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luveline · 12 hours

Note

oooh what about a lil blurb about bombshell r and spencer where it's the first time in their relationship that one of them is super sick and the other has to take care of them?? if you're feeling up for it ofc!! love u jade <333

ty for requesting<3<3 fem, 1k

“I’m sicker than a sick dog. I’m half cough.”

Spencer frowns at his phone where it lays on speaker at the breakfast table. “You are? What kind of cough?”

“It’s awful, I can’t tell you. You’ll stop loving me.”

Spencer smiles even though he wants to grimace. He told you he loved you a few days ago, and you hadn’t said it back, but you certainly hadn’t stopped liking him. You’re more obsessed with him than before, he’d argue. It’s a great feeling, almost as good as an I love you in return would’ve been.

(He doesn’t blame you for not saying it. You’ve been officially dating for less than a month. He shouldn’t have said it, only he’d been lying in your bed about to go to sleep with your hand in his and he’d never felt anything like it, not home but safe, not home but comfortable, and so so wanted.)

“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer says.

“I’m gonna order some soup I think. What are you gonna do today?” Your voice is thick like you can’t breathe through your nose, but still yours.

“I’m gonna put my shoes on and come see you, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

It’s a no brainier. “What soup do you want, Y/N?”

He says your name like a compliment. You laugh down the line, which turns into a cough, and a pained moan. “Any kind of soup, babe. You’re really gonna come and see me?”

“Someone has to take care of you. Ideally me.”

“Too right.”

When Spencer gets to your apartment thirty rushed minutes later, you’re already worse. He knocks on your door and you answer with a hand covering your face, your breath audibly shallow. “I forgot that being sick makes you ugly.”

Spencer takes your wrist in his hand kindly. “Nothing can make you ugly. Come on, let me see.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I!”

You aren’t pretty, you’re stunning. You’re gorgeous. You’ve been the most beautiful woman Spencer’s ever seen since the moment he saw you, not just because of your looks, of which you take great care, but because of your heart, how kind you’d been to him and continue to be. Your confident personality has never once made you cruel. He couldn’t say the same for most people, so you could have snot running down your lips and a zit the size of Quantico on your forehead and he’d still think you were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

“Come on,” he says again, “I know you’re still beautiful.”

You let him pull your hand down, unveiling your puffy eyes and chapped nose. “I don’t know how I got sick so fast.”

The tote bag he’d brought with him slips into his elbow and pulls down his sweater sleeve as he grabs your shoulder. “You said you looked ugly.”

“I do!”

“All you do is lie.” He gives you a small smile. Am I doing this flirting thing right?

“I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Your audible heartbreak is convincing. “I’ll still kiss you.” His desperation is even more evident than yours. “I’d love to kiss you.” Even if it’s usually you who kisses him.

You close your eyes and lean in for a kiss at the same time. Just one kiss, firm for a millisecond, no parting lips or tongue to be seen but just as good a kiss as any other. Spencer must’ve had about thirty of them now, yet a kiss from you never feels real.

“I’ll look after you if you get sick,” you promise, pulling away.

He was counting on it. He hates germs, hates being sick, but he loves you. Whatever happens is out of his hands.

You seem a little unsteady on your feet, now Spencer’s looking at you. You’re wearing loose white pyjamas with blue flowers, and on your feet you have a pair of shoes somewhere between slippers and boots, brown fabric with fluffy white insides he’s seen you sporting on the jet from time to time when you’re at your most achingly tired.

You look adorable and tipping. He eases out of his shoes, sliding the bag of tinned soup, crackers and about seventy dollars worth of cold medicine onto the sideboard so he can put his hand under your arm.

“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, wrapping you in a supportive hug.

“Forward,” you tease.

You shouldn’t. Spencer thinks about intimacy with you and goes insanely pink everytime, though you’re far from new to one another. He especially doesn’t wanna think about it as you cross your room and flop down into bed with a tired sigh. “Come lay down?”

“I’m wearing jeans.”

“Did you sit down on the subway?”

“No, I drove here.”

“Come on, Spence. Your germs are fine.” You smile at the ceiling as he sits down at the top of your bed. “You drove here? You hate driving.”

“It was quickest.”

You drop your head into his lap. Your breathing is laboured.

“You okay?” he asks you.

“Just missed you.”

“I brought you some stuff. Vapour rub and decongestant spray, painkillers, vitamins, everything.” He leans down as he wraps his arms over your front, a promise to look after you. “Try to take a deep breath, angel,” he advises sympathetically. “You sound really out of breath.”

“Too much standing up.”

“Standing up can be good for you when you’re sick. It stops you from getting idle diseases and bed sores, and walking is even better for you if you can manage it, it helps unclog your sinuses.” He finishes his fact, and he looks down at you all poorly in his lap, remembering very quickly how lucky he is to have found someone who listens. You didn’t interrupt. You wouldn’t have even thought about it, he’s sure. “But no more standing up or walking around. I’m gonna get you anything you need. You’ll be better in no time.”

You give him your own grateful smile. “Thank you.” You scrunch up your nose.

“Are you gonna sneeze? I got balsam tissues.” The damage to your nose has already been done. “Do you have any chapstick? We’ll rub some on your nose to stop it from getting any drier.”

Your wrinkled nose worsens. “Thank you for coming to look after me,” you say weakly.

He wants to say you’re his best friend in the whole world, but you’re more than that now. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly, ducking down to plant a kiss near your eyebrow. “I always want to look after you. This is just the first time you’ve let me.”

You smile contentedly, your voice falling to a whisper. “Will you tell me you love me again?”

Spencer doesn’t think he’s in any position to deny you. “I love you,” he says truthfully. “Thank you for letting me come over.”

You turn your face into his arm. “Thank you for wanting to, handsome.”

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds

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worldlxvlys · 2 days

Note

I have a request, if you’re taking them

can you do a dwb!Matt where reader relapses badly, and he has to help her through her withdrawals

if not that’s totally cool, but I’m a sucker for angsts so I thought I’d ask

help you

dealer! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, drug addiction/ withdrawals, mentions of nausea, cursing

a/n -> please read with caution !!

i love you all and my dms are always open if you need to talk <33

MATT’S POV

“i’m fine, matt” she said for what had to be the millionth time.

she smacked my hand away with her own, while she attempted to pour water into a cup with her free one.

her hands were so shaky, she could barely get any of it in the cup. she let out a frustrated sigh, setting the pitcher down onto the counter.

“here” i spoke as i poured the water for her, handing her the glass.

“you hungry?” i asked as i grabbed a paper towel, cleaning up the spill.

“no” she spoke, moving her arm to her forehead to wipe the sweat that began to accumulate.

“when’s the last time you ate something?” i asked her.

“can we turn down the heat?” she asked, continuing to wipe her sweaty skin.

“the heat isn’t on, here” i spoke as i grabbed a washcloth, soaking it in cool water. i folded the washcloth in half, guiding her to sit down on the couch.

she placed the washcloth on her forehead, laying her head back with a sigh.

“is there anything you actually want to eat?” i asked, moving back towards her refrigerator. i was aware that she didn’t have an appetite, but she hadn’t eaten all day long.

“no, matt. i just don’t want to feel like this, i wanna go back to normal” she replied. “how long is this gonna last ? i don’t think i can take much more of this”

“hey, it’s ok. i’m gonna help you through this” i spoke as i made my way back to her, a granola bar in hand.

“no, you don’t get it. i feel like i’m dying, matt. my entire body aches, the thought of food makes me nauseous, i’m covered in sweat, and i’ve never felt weaker in my life. you wanna help? let me take something, anything. please, i need it matt” she looked at me with her eyes slightly widened, clutching onto my shirt.

i’d never seen her look so helpless.

“you know i can’t do that, baby” i spoke, grabbing her hand. “i’m gonna run you a bath, ok? how hot do you want the water?” i asked her.

“a bath isn’t gonna do shit, matt. you know what i need. let me take something or leave me alone”

“i’m trying to help you-” i started, quickly being cut off, “help me? you did this to me. this is your fault. tell me, what do you think happens when you sell drugs to people? do you know how many people you’ve made just like me? you’re no saint, matt. you’re actively helping people ruin their lives”

she didn’t mean it. of course, she didn’t . she’d say anything to get her fix. but that didn’t make her words hurt any less.

she wasn’t telling me anything i hadn’t told myself before. and i hated that i let her end up like this. she was right, this was my fault.

i should’ve done a better job at protecting her, at keeping her safe. i couldn’t do anything about failing in the past, but i damn sure could prevent it from happening in the future.

“you’re right, this is my fault. but letting you erase your progress now would only end up hurting you more in the long run. the only way i can help you is by being here for you. so you can yell at me, be mad at me, be annoyed with me, i don’t care. i’m not going anywhere, okay?”

instead of saying anything she just blinked up at me, nodding her head gently.

“now, how hot do you want your bath water?”

dwb! matt masterlist

main masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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pellucid-constellations · 12 hours

Text

If It All Fell (8)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Angst, pining, injury

a/n: I appreciate thoughts and reactions more than you know!!! <333 Italics indicate flashbacks.

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

The next two weeks were interesting.

In the first few days after the accident—the ones filled with confusion and incorrect suspicions—you had spent most of your time alone or sleeping. Mor visited your bedroom every morning to share limited information about your past, but there was no routine beyond that. Everyone tiptoed around you, too afraid to set off the timebomb they assumed was your mind.

But Helion had disputed that assumption.

You were allowed to know who you were, to become the person you had been.

So, a routine began to form.

Breakfast early in the morning, usually with a random assortment of the inner circle. Mor was always present, keeping up with her responsibility of telling you about yourself. Cassian joined more often than not—an early riser, he deemed himself. Azriel made it when he could. He was always busy in the morning. Doing… something, everyone told you.

Rhysand would join you after the meal, whisking you away for an hour or two to work on the powers you still could not call upon. He would have a different objective in mind every day and it was your job to parse out what it was.

You failed.

Obviously.

He started bringing in random Velaris citizens instead, but you still felt nothing. It was nice to see the smiling strangers; they were all kind to you, all apparently knowing who you were. The vagueness surrounding them leveled the playing field more. They didn’t know your whole life story and you weren’t supposed to know theirs.

“You’ve explained it to me before,” Rhysand had said. “It’s a vibration, sometimes a light or a color. You see it around them, feel it. You understand a deep part within them that they don’t even know they’re revealing.”

Well, there was never any light or vibration or color. You could never tell that the fae were lying or that Rhysand was planning something big for his anniversary with his mate. None of this otherworldly intuition that the Night Court seemed to value so highly. It was all just stagnant.

After spending some time failing with Rhys, you got to explore Velaris. You had insisted that you didn’t need a chaperone, and your family believed you—for a time. You had three whole days of walking around the city alone before that privilege was revoked.

Granted, it was your fault that it was revoked, but that was neither here nor there.

It hadn’t been your plan to get lost, just as it hadn’t been your plan to get caught up in a street brawl over a cart of potatoes. But when you weren’t at the designated meeting spot for Cassian to bring you back up the house, and when he found you with a bleeding nose an hour later, what you meant to do didn’t matter.

“Y/n?” you heard a voice shout, heavy footsteps shaking the ground beneath you. “Shit—y/n, look at me, you okay?”

Warm hands enveloped your shaking ones, drawing them back and catching sight of the red staining your fingerprints. It was Cassian, you realized, with his broad wings cloaking you in their shadow. The General’s expression hardened when he took in your face.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low, comfort combatting fury. “Where have you been? We have about 10 people looking for you, sweetheart.”

You grimaced—both at the pain in your nose and the notion of your family scouring the streets of Velaris. “I’m so, so sorry, Cassian. I got turned around and then I was in this alley and there was a boy—”

“Hey!” Defeat washed through you at the sound of another voice in the alley, all hopes for a peaceful return home washed away. “Is your girlfriend over there gonna pay for the product I lost?”

The Illyrian before you paused, body going still at the accusatory tone. Cassian’s jaw clenched and he turned, keeping you well behind him. You still caught a glimpse of the scene from between his legs, and the merchant—to his credit—had the mind to stop his taunting.

And to look afraid.

Really, truly afraid.

“You did this to her?” Cassian growled, fists clenching at his sides.

The merchant swallowed. “You’re—and she’s…”

“Did you. Do this. To her?” Cassian asked again, words broken up by malice.

A beat of pressing silence, only whispers of the street meeting your ears. The merchant took several, shaky steps back, but the movement damned him. His hands swayed with his backtracking feet, and red glistened on his knuckles.

Cassian’s wings flared at the sight. It only took a small uptick of his brow for the smaller man to fall to the floor in a plea.

“Please, please don’t kill me! I didn’t know who she was. Don’t turn me over to the Shadowsinger, I won’t make it! I have a family to care for—a wife! I was only trying to protect my crops and she butted in. I didn’t want to hurt her!”

The General hooked his chin over his shoulder and sent you a questioning gaze, one you were sheepish to answer. With a harrowing breath, you revealed, “There was a little boy stealing potatoes. He was going to hit him. I stepped in the way.”

A tug at your chest had you gasping as Cassian turned back around. The feeling had been persistent the moment you got lost, increasing after you’d been implicated in the merchant’s conflict. It pulled and pulled, a desperate winding around your ribs that you didn’t know how to relieve.

It had to have been fear. Or stress.

Cassian eyed the man crumpled to the floor. “Is the boy okay?” he asked, the question meant for you but directed across the alley.

“Yes,” you confirmed, pressing your hand to the blood running down your chin. “He ran away.”

Cassian grunted, sent a harsh warning to the man, and then crouched back down to your place on the ground, shaking his head in frustration. “Let’s get you home.” And then he grumbled, “I might get my ass kicked but…”

Cassian had not gotten his ass kicked when you got home, but many other things happened. Mor just about cried in relief, her arms thrown around your neck followed by a string of commands to never do such a thing again. Rhys rubbed at his jaw as tension lifted from the House. He also had a command—that you wouldn’t be traveling alone anymore.

And Azriel… Azriel looked like he would vomit, his shadows flitting angrily around him before bridging a path to you. He had cleaned the blood from your face, eyes haunted by misplaced grief, and pure guilt replaced all else in your myriad of emotions.

You agreed an escort would be better.

Azriel volunteered. Every day.

And so you got to know Azriel.

Mor had described him as reserved, not one to offer the intimacy of touch or personal information so readily. That was not your experience with the Shadowsinger.

Fleeting touches had become commonplace between the two of you, whether it was his hands or his wings or the brush of his thigh as you sat by the Sidra. You weren’t sure if he was doing it consciously, but you welcomed the familiarity. You found he did it most when he wasn’t paying attention—when he was deep into a story about your past or listening to your opinions intently.

He was open, sharing pieces of himself you didn’t have to pry to receive. He told you about his mother, about his scars, about how he overcame them. He shared with you how important you were to him many, many times, slipping it into conversations so causally. A thread connected the pieces of his life, and you, it appeared, made up the spool.

He did not speak of his mate, despite being prompted.

A sadness came over him at any mention of her, one so achingly melancholy that you told yourself you wouldn’t ask again.

He loved her deeply, but something had happened there.

You tried not to get too close. This was friendship, a deep familial love that he relied on. That you seemed to have relied on for so many years.

And Azriel was hurt. Even if he and his mate were no longer intertwined by their bond, he didn’t need the onslaught of emotions his amnesiac friend was suddenly overcome with.

Because you were—overcome by emotions for him.

It was wrong.

You wished you had the context to separate those feelings. If you understood your history—if you had memories beyond the few weeks of sweet stories and brushes of his fingers along your hair—maybe you wouldn't be feeling this way. Maybe your heart wouldn’t beat painfully against your ribs each time he entered the room… each time his eyes met yours as if he could feel your admiration for him within his own chest.

You wouldn’t be feeling this way, surely. Because no one had told you that you should be.

You only had the recounts of your friends, and the three of them had made no insinuations about you and Azriel.

You wished you could meet the rest of the inner circle.

There had been plans to, but then you came home with blood on your face and a disorientation in your eyes and that was suddenly off the table.

After your time exploring Velaris, you read.

Mor would pile your favorite books beside you in the small reading room you had come to love and rave about how great of an opportunity this was for you.

“You would kill to be able to read these for the first time again,” she’d laugh. “So have at it!”

Reading felt easy.

Books did not pressure you to remember things you weren’t able to.

You could see it all in their eyes, the way your family clung to each of your words for even a hint of reminiscence. They’d make a joke and hold their breath, desperate for the laugh that should be bubbling out of you. But you never got it, never making the connections that they did.

Azriel was the only one who’d catch the shame you felt at your lack of deliverance. Although he was the one with the most torture in his expression, he was also the one with the most understanding. He’d lean his head down and whisper what you needed to know in your ear, and then you’d giggle—for show—and hope would return to the room.

But nothing had returned to you.

You were still a shell.

“What do you think?”

Cassian’s question blanketed the table, forks halting their movements atop plates. Breakfast had just begun and you were dressed for a morning in Velaris at the theater, this time with Cassian.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Mor questioned, eyeing the General beneath a raised brow.

“Were you there last week when I brought her home all bloody? I think it’s a great idea. Rhys agrees.”

“And Az?”

Cassian continued his breakfast, reaching for his drink. “Cassian—”

And so you found yourself steps away from the roof of the House of Wind—no longer in the comfortable daywear you’d been sporting—squinting into the morning sun. Leathers fitted for your body were laced up at your back and waist, stretching with a groan as you reached up to block the light from your eyes. Although the pain in your head had subsided to practically nonexistence, it often flared up in brightness or in times of stress.

Like when you stood atop a mountain and stared into the sun. Or got punched in the nose by a potato merchant.

“This is where I go while you go galavanting around the city,” Cassian chimed in, a grin evident in his words.

“Charming,” you muttered, still adjusting to the jarring assault of the sun.

The sound of grunts and clashing metal oriented you quicker, and as your eyesight settled you were met with the image of Azriel. He was bare-chested, leathers donning his legs as he pressed further and further forward, the knife you always saw at his hips hacking away at the metal dummy before him.

He moved so quickly that it was difficult to track him, one swipe after another, so carefully skilled and practiced. Sweat beaded down his tattooed skin. His wings rippled and spread in time with his footwork.

He was mesmerizing, a force of nature only halting as his shadows wound around his ear, whispering. Azriel whipped around, sheathing his knife at his side and staring out beyond the training ring with a narrowed gaze. He spotted you instantly, without looking near or around—a magnetic force.

Until he wasn’t looking at you, instead glowering in Cassian’s direction. “What are you doing, brother?” he bit out. The back of his hand made a quick pass along his forehead.

Cassian didn’t look the slightest bit sheepish, ushering you to the outskirts of the ring. “She’s going to train. Now that we know she won’t break at the slightest thing.”

Hazel eyes slid back to you, a softness overcoming them as you quickly averted your gaze from the broadness of his chest. You were not ogling him.

You bit into your cheek to stave off the embarrassment.

“I thought we agreed—”

“Az, come on. It’s been a couple of weeks now. We need to get her back in the swing of things.”

A crack of defeat edged its way onto the Shadowsinger’s face.

What had they agreed on? To wait it out? To treat you like glass until you were their version of yourself again? Something ugly licked up into your chest, something raw.

For a moment—just one—you stood on the sidelines and felt pathetic. While the two Illyrians stared at each other, a silent conversation between eyes, you let yourself feel like an outsider. They had had discussions about you, but not really about you. About the you that they loved—the one with memories and reciprocation.

“Will you be careful?” Azriel’s even voice snapped you out of the spiral you had initiated. His expression was uneasy, a hand pressed to his chest. “And tell us if you need to stop? If your head—”

“My head has been completely fine for a while now,” you assured, hands coming up to grasp the rungs of the training ring. “Promise.”

Azriel pressed his lips into a line but motioned you in with a nod of his head.

Despite the conflict still raging within your mind, you smiled at Cassian, the two of you letting out a small cheer and high-fiving before the General lifted you by your hips and past the rungs. You regained your footing and stood before the spymaster, meeting his level gaze with your own.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Cassian began, a loud clap resonating behind you. “Muscle memory is going to play a big role here, but I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you’re just with this guy for now.” He patted the shoulder of the dummy Azriel had been practicing with.

You scoffed, dropping your hands to hang by your thighs. “What? I still have the same muscle tone from before and last I checked my face was beaten in by a real person, not a chunk of metal.”

“And that will not happen again,” Azriel cut it. “Ever. But especially not when you’re… in this state.”

You ignored the unsettling remark. “Okay, well I think sparring one of you would be more effective in the prevention of that, don’t you?”

“Cassian and I could hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“We can’t guarantee—”

“I trust you,” you interrupted, your view of Azriel partially obstructed by the shadows that wound up your body. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Let me do this, Az.”

The male before you faltered, his eyes darting quickly between yours. His chest, gleaming in the sunlight, rose and fell with strenuous effort. A clench of his jaw. Another pass of silence.

“Okay,” he nodded, gaze roving over your features. “Okay, y/n. Get warmed up and we can spar.”

You warmed up with Cassian, stretching and relishing in the feel of your body moving. He went over a few basic maneuvers with you, and you tried your hardest to pay close attention to how his feet slid around the ring.

It was a rather hard task, seeing as Azriel had continued his blade work on the dummy. Still shirtless.

After the General was satisfied with your progress, he passed you off to his brother. The Shadowsinger’s posture had softened a hair from when you first entered the ring, his wings coiled back and his shadows creating uneven shapes along the floor. He kept his hands by his sides, his feet relaxed—not a fighting stance in the slightest.

“Come on,” you teased, cocking your head to the side. “You have to at least try, Az.”

“I did not spar with you often before your memories were lost,” he admitted. “I do not enjoy the thought of hurting you.”

Guilt immediately flooded you. You hadn’t even thought about what this would be like for him, too caught up in your own strife. Your stance dropped, the fists at your chin loosening and falling.

“Oh, Azriel, I’m sorry. I can have Cassian—”

“No.” He dragged his left foot back. A ghost of a fighting position. “Only me.”

You took a painful breath in.

He didn’t move, allowing you to lead.

You shook your hands out and then your body moved of its own accord.

You swiped at his legs first, unsurprised when he leaped back with practiced grace. The two of you fell into a dance of drawn arms and calculated shifts and you were almost unnerved by how your body moved without you willing it to.

Cassian had said that muscle memory would play a role.

It seemed to be the only thing driving you.

You went for his knees, but in a way that maneuvered past his wings.

You used his shadows as cover, taking advantage of their familiarity with you and cloaking yourself in their mist.

Azriel swung a halfhearted punch at your shoulder and you bypassed the motion, grabbing his wrist and twisting at his back.

It felt right. Your actions were not your own but they were ingrained in your being.

This was your body.

Something that remained unchanged.

In your newfound joy, you missed the open palm Azriel carefully directed at your chest. The impact caught you off guard, stealing your breath from your lungs as you were pushed to the ground. As your back hit the floor, another shocking burst of air was ripped from you.

You laid frozen for a moment before a shadow cast over your body, the sun no longer beating down on your skin. Through the ringing in your ears, Azriel’s voice flowed through.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—y/n, take a breath.” A scarred hand rubbed along your clavicle. “Breathe. You’re okay. Breathe.”

A startling gasp of oxygen entered your lungs. You were fine, completely unharmed, only shocked and disoriented. Azriel bowed his head as you continued to circulate the air into your body, and it was then that you saw it.

A chain hung between you, dangling from his neck and brushing against your chin. It swayed back and forth, a grounding point as you blinked back the tears lining your eyes. The ring glinted in the sun, rubbing against the golden chain, looking as if it did not belong there.

Azriel tracked your gaze as he raised his head, looking down at the object of your attention. He sat back on his ankles and the diamond followed him, resting close to his chest.

You raised yourself to your elbows. “Who’s—” You coughed. Azriel winced. “Is that yours?”

A stupid question, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. A guarded look passed over the Shadowsinger’s face and you regretted it instantly. He reached up and clutched the necklace in a closed fist.

“No,” he responded. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t release the ring.

“I’m okay,” you confirmed. “I’m not hurt. It just knocked the wind out of me.”

Azriel nodded. A grim line formed between his brows.

“Hey! She alright?” Cassian called. He had moved clear across the roof when you began to spar with Azriel, mentioning something about inventory or knives or something you hadn’t paid attention to. You had been too focused on the warmth you felt from being so close to Azriel’s skin.

The sound of Cassian’s voice did nothing to break the hold Azriel’s eyes had on you.

Another beat of silence passed.

The wind blew a strand of his hair across his forehead.

“I—”

“I have a mission. I was supposed to meet with Rhys before midday.” He spoke the words apologetically but his hand shook when it lowered to his knee.

The sun was already past the high point in the sky. It was no longer midday.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I want to thank you for—”

“Don’t thank me. Please, just—Be careful. I have to go.”

A quiet collection of parting words fell from your lips and Aziel twitched, looking as if he would move forward but thinking better of it.

But you had thoughts too, and they worked against Azriel’s

You raised to your knees and brushed the hair on his forehead back, a small smile gracing your face, trying so hard to melt some of the tension that had grown between you. Azriel’s breath caught as you moved, but you only doubled down, softly dragging your nails along his scalp.

He shuddered, eyes falling shut for a brief, unguarded moment.

His shadows consumed him.

Azriel was gone.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel angst #acotar #acotar fanfiction #fanfic

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cutielando · 18 hours

Note

Can we have a Lando x reader who's a little chubby?

a/n: as a chubby girl myself, i love this ❤️ but please remember guys, you are beautiful just the way you are and nobody should tell you otherwise !!! ❤️❤️

so sorry it took so long, uni has been kicking my ass and i haven't had much time to write :((

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

You hadn’t always had doubts regarding the way you looked.

Seeing so many models around you at every step, feeling the eyes burning into the back of your neck and scrutinizing you for simply the way you looked. But you never cared about any of that.

You weren’t ugly, far from it. You were as beautiful as they come, but slightly a little chubby. You had some meat on your thighs and you weren’t afraid to show it off or feel confident in your body.

Well, that was before.

Ever since you started dating Lando, everything changed.

The amount of eyes that were on you before was nothing compared to the moment when you were introduced to the world as Lando’s girlfriend.

You had decided to keep your relationship a secret for the first couple of months, just until you tested out the waters and figured out what would come of the whole thing. You had tried to limit your expectations from the very beginning, knowing that Lando could leave you for anyone and nobody would ever know.

But it didn’t happen, and you were sure that what you had was real after months and months of expecting the worst.

After many talks, both you and Lando decided that it would be best for you to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix as your first official race as his girlfriend. It was his home Grand Prix, at the end of the way, he wanted you there with his family, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Are you sure you want me to come? I can stay back, I don’t mind” you said as you were waiting for Lando to finish getting ready so you could all leave for the track.

He looked at you, blankly staring at you. You’d had the same conversation 10 times since you guys woke up, and he didn’t know how to stress it well enough that he wanted you there with him.

“Baby, I don’t know how else to say this. I want you there with me, my family wants you there as well. Why are you so nervous?” he was holding your arms, softly running his finger up and down your soft skin.

You had the answer, but you didn’t want to give it to him. You already knew what he was going to say and how he was going to react, but you couldn’t lie to him when he looked at you with those eyes of his that stared deep into your soul.

“I know what people are going to say when they see you with me” you mumbled, staring down at your shoes.

Lando frowned, not understanding what his fans had to do with anything. Why would you care about what his fans would say? He didn’t, why would you?

“What do you mean?” he asked, bringing you closer to his body.

You sighed against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist loosely.

“People are going to say things when they see you with me” your voice was small, unsure of your own words.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what you meant. But he didn’t say anything when you sighed, letting you get everything off of your chest.

“I don’t look like the girls you are usually seen with, and people noticed that. They always have something to say about the way I look next to you and that I’m not like your exes and that you don’t really like me and are using me for clout. I know it’s not true, but sometimes they get to me” you confessed, a weight slowly lifting off of your conscience.

You weren’t used to being in the public eye as much as Lando, so you’d never before had to deal with people commenting about your appearance and judging every single thing you did or said.

It was something you took a while getting used to, but it was worth it if it meant being with Lando. And Lando was very grateful for all the sacrifices you had made for him.

“Baby, look at me” he said, taking your face in his hands so you would look him in the eyes. “I don’t care what anybody has to say about you. I love you for who you are, just the way you are. You’re gorgeous in my eyes and nobody could ever convince me otherwise” he said, speaking slowly so you could absorb his words carefully.

You looked at him, biting your lip as you studied his face and especially his eyes. They were sincere, holding more honesty and love than you thought you could ever comprehend.

“You mean that?” you whispered, feeling hot tears building into the corners of your eyes.

Lando smiled and leaned down, kissing you deeply. “I love you, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about us. We’re happy, nobody else matters”

You bit your lip again but nodded, prompting a big smile to break out on Lando’s face.

“Then let’s rock Silverstone”

♡♡♡♡♡

The paddock was buzzing when you arrived with Lando and his family. Dozens of fans were screaming your boyfriend’s name, and even though he smiled and waved at them while keeping his distance, you could tell his smile was not 100% honest.

You tried not to look at his fans if you could help it, knowing you would be met with some looks you’d be better off not seeing. Lando saw that, and he only wrapped his arm around your shoulders to keep you even closer as you made your way together to the garage.

“How are you feeling?” Lando asked once you were in the safety of his driver’s room, away from the screaming fans and photographers.

You smiled, your heart warming at the fact that his most pressing concern, even on the toughest race weekends, was you.

“I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me” you reassured him, smiling lightly.

He looked at you for a moment, studying your face and eyes intently. He didn’t like knowing that his fans were not supportive of his relationship and of you in particular, he thought it was absolutely ridiculous.

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable being here” he said, sighing before pulling you into a hug.

“I’ve known from the beginning that being in the public eye wouldn’t always be sunshine and roses. This is just an example of that, we can’t control it. People are allowed to have opinions, I just have to learn how to deal with them” you said, enjoying the warmth emanating from his body.

Lando nodded, but still felt like he should make it clear how wrong everybody else was about you.

He pulled away from the hug, only to take your face in his hands. “I want you to know that, no matter what anyone might say, I love you just the way you are. I don’t care if you’re skinny, if you’re a little chubby, if you have short or long hair, I care about you in any form. I love you for who you are, not for the way you look” he said, making tears well up in the corners of your eyes.

You had always known Lando loved you, but this right there proved it to you 1000 times over.

Not being able to resist, you practically threw yourself against his body, kissing him so fiercely you both became lightheaded. Pouring every ounce of love you felt for one another into a kiss, sealing a promise that you would always be there to lift each other up, no matter what.

Why?

Because nothing else mattered besides you two.

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heart4gyu · 7 hours

Text

wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!!

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

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in1-nutshell · 2 days

Text

Bot Buddy being Rodimus's older sister and having a crush on Swerve

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Hinted Romance, Cybertronain reader

Buddy is a near carbon copy of Rodimus.

Key word ‘almost’.

Instead of sporting the red and oranges being her main color on her frame, Buddy has more blue tones with some yellow around.

That is where all similarities end.

Buddy being related to Ultra Magnus makes more sense than her being related to Rodimus.

“Hey Buddy! Watch this!”--Rodimus

Rodimus on the top of a tall shelf.

“Rodimus No!”—Buddy and Magnus

Buddy and Magnus look at each other in surprise.

“… I hate when you two do that.”--Rodimus

“Don’t care, get down here before you break something or hurt yourself.”--Buddy

“But—”--Rodimus

“Rodimus.”--Magnus

“…”--Rodimus

She was in fact close to him though.

Being a part of the Elite Guard for most of the war can do that.

The other part was stationed around communications and message relay for the Guard or the Wreckers.

That was where she first met Swerve.

It was purely by accident.

Swerve had been given the wrong number and connected her instead.

“Hello? How may I help you?”--Buddy

“You’re not Blurr. Who are you?”--Swerve

“You have the help line for the Wrecker’s and Elite Guard, do you require any assistance?”--Buddy

“Oh, no not really. I thought I had Blurr’s number. You know Blurr?”--Swerve

“Yes, I am familiar with the racer.”--Buddy

“Isn’t he the best! We were going to hatch a plan to build and run a bar when the war ended.”--Swerve

“Really? Blurr agreed to that?”--Buddy

“Absolutely! He even gave me his number, but I must have punched in the wrong digits and contacted you instead. Not that you haven’t been nice and all!”--Swerve

Buddy laughing a little bit.

“Its all right… umm… what is your designation?”--Buddy

“The names Swerve! And who might I be speaking with if you don’t mind?”--Swerve

“I’m Buddy—”--Buddy

“You’re THE Buddy!? Wow! This is just my day! I’ve heard so much about you and your work with the Elite Guard, The Wrecker’s…”--Swerve

Buddy gets a bit more comfortable on her end ready to continue this pleasant conversation with Swerve.

It was a slow day anyways… it felt nice.

That started a slow friendship between the two.

The chats had to happen on scheduled days since Swerve had a habit of talking too much and Buddy didn’t like to stop him.

Buddy refused to talk to Hot Rod about this.

Swerve was her friend.

Finally, someone that hadn’t been friends with Hot Rod before knowing her.

She was going to protect her friend’s identity as long as she could.

But of course, Hot Rod had a feeling his sister was hiding something from him and was going to get to the bottom of it.

Hot Rod dramatically draping his frame on Buddy’s berth.

“Why won’t you tell me!”—Hot Rod

Buddy rolling her optics.

“I’m not telling you squat Roddy.”--Buddy

Hot Rod suddenly sitting up.

“What if its… someone?”—Hot Rod

Buddy frame stiffens a bit.

“It is someone!”—Hot Rod

Hot Rod flopping on her back and starts popping her side annoyingly.

“Who’s the lucky bot who’s got my stuck up of a sister like this?”—Hot Rod

Buddy grabs his digit and slightly bends it backwards.

“Hey! OWW!”-Hot Rod

“Keep it up and I’ll bend more than your digit Hot Rod. Got that?”--Buddy

Buddy lets go of his digit and crosses her arms glaring at him.

“Fine, fine, I wont start talking about your secret—”—Hot Rod

Buddy judo flips her brother to the floor.

Hot Rod was over the moon hearing that there might be someone out there for his stuck-up sis.

Maybe it would help loosen her up.

Primus knows she needs to stop stressing so much.

Buddy just wishes that Hot Rod would drop the subject… but is secretly pleased to hear that he is happy that she found someone she likes.

…then came Rodimus Prime.

Buddy felt their sibling bond significantly weakened thanks to the matrix bonding.

Rodimus didn’t seem to notice but Buddy did.

But she refused to acknowledge it to him.

He was a Prime now, he had other things to worry about than her.

Just pushing through trying to get her work done.

Timeskip to the Lost Light…

Buddy was not aware that Swerve was on the ship until she got wind of the bar.

She walked in and zeroed in on the minibot.

Buddy walking over to the bar where Swerve had his back to her.

“Welcome to Swerve’s you see anything you like?”--Swerve

Buddy smiles a bit.

“Hmm… I don’t know you recommend anything Swerve?”--Buddy

Swerve stops cleaning the glass in his servo and turns around, wide eyed.

Buddy smiles a bit more seeing Swerve’s own face light up.

“Buddy!”--Swerve

Swerve reaches over the bar to hug his friend.

Several bots at the bar stop seeing the small bartender hugging one of the most strict bots on bourd.

“… 20 shanix that Buddy tells Swerve off.”--Skids

“Deal.”--Chromedome

“Domey--”--Rewind

“Wrong. 50 and she throws him out.”--Whirl

“She wouldn’t do that… right?”--Tailgate

Buddy hugs Swerve back while silent chaos ensues behind them.

So many bots thought that Swerve was going to die that day.

Rodimus had so many com pings within that hour.

He brushes the pings off like a rumor.

Especially when he hears about something potentially happening between Buddy and Swerve.

… That changes when Rodimus starts to notice Buddy hanging out more and more at Swerve’s.

This was the first flag to be raised.

Buddy doesn’t ‘do’ crowded bars.

But he brushes it off as Buddy finally letting loose.

Rodimus is talking with Drift when he notices Buddy at the bar.

“Isn’t it nice seeing Buddy happy?”--Drift

“Hmm? Yeah… but it’s a bit weird seeing her out here.”--Rodimus

Drift raises an optic.

“She doesn’t like big, crowded places, it’s ‘Too loud and too much engex being spilled all over’.”--Rodimus

Drift looking at Buddy happily talking with Swerve at the counter.

“Maybe she’s here for someone?”--Drift

Rodimus downing the rest of his drink laughing at the end.

“Ha! That’ll be the day.”--Rodimus

One time a rather rude bot had come to the bar and demanded to know why he was cut off from the drinks.

All while he was slowly tipping to the side.

Buddy tried to de-escalate the situation.

“Listen, we are all civilized bots here. Lets just get you back to your habsuite or the med bay if—”--Buddy

The bot looks at Buddy and spits in their face.

“Can it! Your nothing more of a has been-washout-guards-bot who is only good for a pretty paperweight!”—Random Bot

Buddy wipes the spit infused engex from her optics, glares at the bot harshly, about to unleash the Pits when she gets interrupted.

“HEY!”--Swerve

Swerve stands on the bar counter gaining some height, his servos shaking at his sides.

“Don’t you EVER talk to her like that! Now. Get. Out. Of. MY! BAR!”—Swerve

Buddy feels her spark skip a pulse looking at the mini bartender.

The bot tries to take a swing at him, but Buddy grabs the fist in her’s.

Buddy’s optics blazing in fury.

“You heard the minibot.”--Buddy

Buddy kicks the bot in the back of the knee and throws the frame across her shoulder.

Marching outside and kicking the bot several feet away from the entrance.

“Get. Out.”—Buddy

“… She gonna be my Amica.”--Whirl

“Whirl, not the time.”--Cyclonus

“Well, I can’t be her Conjunx. Swerve has that covered; this is the next best thing.”--Whirl

“Swerve does not—”--Tailgate

Whirl points at Swerve still standing on the counter with a lovesick smile on his face.

“…Maybe your right.”--Tailgate

“Tailgate, Whirl no.”--Cyclonus

“Hold on Cyclonus, they might have a point.”--Rewind

“Rewind—”--Chromedome

Cylcnous puts a servo on Chromedome’s shoulder shaking his helm.

Chromedome sighs giving in as Whirl, Tailgate, and Rewind scheming in silence.

Buddy managed to cuff the bot and send him to Magnus.

The bot never came back to Swerve’s.

Swerve has heart shaped optics behind his visor.

You’d have to be blind not to see his clear ‘admiration’ for the former member of the Elite Guard.

But he is convinced that all of this will pass.

It’s not like Buddy would actually have feelings for him.

Meanwhile Buddy has started creating Swerve/Love playlists in secret.

A secret that she is taking with her until she goes offline.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #idw mtmte #mtmte x platonic reader #mtmte x reader #mtmte rodimus #mtmte swerve

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mrwavellswaps · 2 days

Note

Swap, Hypno, TF

Henry Cavill, Ryan Gosling, Jake Gyllenhaal

Another great set of options here! But I think I already know who I’m swapping with.

Jake Gyllenhall. Like come on it’s gotta be. That man is just so fucking gorgeous. I’ll be honest though it’s a very close call between him and Ryan Gosling. I adore both of them and if Jake hadn’t been there I absolutely would’ve swapped with Ryan no question. It’s one of those that’s so close that my mind could change depending on the day but right now I’m dead set on Jake and his incredibly sexy looks.

That said I think I’ve just gotta go with another technology based swap for this. A special pair of headsets perhaps. How I’d get Jake to put it on is the tough part. I’d need to find a way to get close to him first. Maybe I use this device to switch bodies with multiple other people who are close to Jake. Every switch getting me closer to him until finally I’m in the body of someone he trusts deeply. Enough that can convince him to put the device on for a laugh when the two of us are alone. Slipping one headset onto him before slipping the other onto myself and without a second thought, activating the device.

Both my face and Jake’s going slack as the swapping device does its thing. Transferring everything that made us who we were through the currents flowing between the two helmets. Slowly flooding my consciousness into Jake’s mind and vice versa. And of course both of us getting massive erections in the process which seemed to be a common side effect when switching bodies with men.

It would’ve been a long and tiring process to finally get this far but it’d be well worth it once I finally had Jake’s body. Immediately throwing off the headset as soon as the swap was complete and standing up to get a good look at the body I’d been striving towards. Meanwhile the real Jake would be too confused and dazed by what had just happened to even make sense of the situation. Only looking up at me in horror as I tested out my new voice and felt up the new body I had hidden underneath the suit he’d been wearing. The newfound bulge in my pants threatening to break out at any second as I reach down and rub a hand across the outline of Jake’s thick cock.

Of course I need to take care of the original Jake somehow but I don’t think that’d be too hard. Once he finally processes what’s happened, he’ll probably start to panic at the sight of his imposter feeling himself up and slowly undressing. By this point I’ll have already stamped on the headset to ensure it can’t be used again before letting him know that the swap can’t be undone now. Giving him the choice to either keep quiet and I’ll make sure he has an easy life from now on or I’ll find some other way to keep him quiet. And since I’d just stolen his body, I don’t think he’d doubt my threats.

Moving on however I then need to hypnotise someone. And I think you all know who I’m going for. Ryan Gosling of course. And now that I’m in Jake’s body it shouldn’t be hard for me to get close to these other high end celebs like myself. As soon as the opportunity presents itself, I’ll lace a drink of his with a hypnotic potion that’s got my new body’s cum mixed into it. And as soon as he drinks it, he’ll become a complete hypno slave to me.

Can you imagine? Ryan Gosling kneeling at the feet of Jake Gyllenhall. Willing to do anything he’s told. A former straight man being turned into a gay slut. Always eager to let me ruin his tight and once virgin hole at any chance we got. Practically begging me to cum inside him every time as each load I bred into him with Jake’s cock only drove him further under my control.

With Ryan being so attached to me I doubt he’d ever want to leave my side for long. Telling the world that the two of us have decided to become a couple would be inevitable in the long game I imagine but that wouldn’t be all bad. The publicity would probably do wonders. I’d have to make sure Ryan acts as normal as possible when we’re in public though… but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let a few of his new slutty elements shine through the cracks from time to time. Maybe with him telling a reporter that I really “opened him up” to a new world of possibilities with a quick wink.

Lastly though a TF is in order and we still have Henry Cavill on our list. I’ll be honest I had no idea what to go for TF wise at first but I think I’ve finally figured it out.

Once again getting close to Henry at some point or another shouldn’t be too hard thanks to my new body. And as soon as no one is looking I’ll whip out an ancient spell. One that if performed correctly will immediately begin to transform Henry’s body. Or rather force it to shrink away into nothing. Or so you’d think at first glance.

As his body seems to vanish, his clothes would fall to the floor in a heap. But there would be something left underneath those clothes. I’d pull apart the heap and reach into Henry’s crumpled pants only to pull out Henry’s cock and balls!? It was the only thing left of his body though at first glance it would certainly be mistaken for a dildo. However upon closer inspection it looked and felt very real from the way the balls swayed to how the cock reacted to the slightest touch.

Now for the real test though.

Assuming I was alone where nobody could walk in on me, I’d slip the disembodied cock into my mouth and started sucking. Feeling as it swiftly began hardening in my mouth. Being sure to use every dick sucking trick in the book until Henry’s cock finally blew a load in my mouth. And as soon as it did, the suit I was wearing started to rip.

Henry’s body and soul essence had all been trapped inside this dlido-like form of his cock. However this meant that anyone who drank his cum would gain his strength and muscle mass albeit temporarily. Hence my suit tearing a fair bit after I swallowed thanks to my body bulking up quite a fair bit. And naturally I didn’t waste any time checking out the results. Loving the look of an even bigger and buffer Jake Gyllenhall staring back at me.

Needless to say I was gonna be using Henry’s cock a lot. Thankfully it replenishes itself endlessly as far as I know so there isn’t a real limit. I can drink from it as much as I want and bulk Jake’s body up whenever I please. Hell I might even let Ryan drink from it as well. Lord knows it’d be hot to see him hulk out with some extra muscle as well. Giving Ryan and even thicker muscle ass for me to dominate! But I think I can say for certain that I’ll be the one using it’s power most of the time. All the extra muscle is bound to feel addictive. And who know? Maybe my body will start to adapt and hold onto some of that extra size even after the effects wear off. Only one way to find out I guess.

Now this one was fun to type up! Also wanted to give a quick shout out to an old story by @fantasyvessels called Trading Places With Gyllenhall which definitely inspired me a little here. Glad I was able to track down where they got those images from and make a hot gif outta it. Go check that story out as well if Jake is your thing!

#asks #swap hypno tf #male body swap #permanent #male body theft #identity theft #male transformation #male muscle growth #musclegrowth #celebrity swap #celebrity tf #technology #magic #male hypnosis #male hypno #celebrity hypno

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five-rivers · 1 day

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Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 17

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

Danny reappeared in the entryway of Clockwork’s house in a swirl of blue. He met Clockwork’s eyes for just a moment and saw the muted concern in them.

He couldn’t stand it.

He darted to the side and made for the stairs.

“Daniel–” said Clockwork, behind him, but he ignored him.

He reached his bedroom and dove under the covers of the bed, wrapping himself up in the quilt, because he missed grabbing the sheet underneath it. He pressed the nearest pillow into his face and tried to stop crying.

“Daniel,” repeated Clockwork softly from near the doorway. Danny hadn’t closed the door.

Danny shook his head. Whatever Clockwork wanted right now, Danny just couldn’t–

The edge of the bed sank down as Clockwork sat on it. He put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “It will be alright, Daniel. You are safe here.”

“You know– You know what they did.”

“I do.”

“How could you just let me– How could you let me go there?”

Clockwork sighed. “I am bound by the limits of the role I have taken on. I could not tell you.”

Typical. Danny rubbed angrily at his eyes. “How did I get away? Do you know?”

“I know,” said Clockwork. He didn’t say anything else.

“But you can’t tell me, is that it?”

“If I were to tell you,” said Clockwork, carefully, “I would be removed from my current role and replaced by someone… less able. The Observants are ever eager to exert control.”

Danny sniffled. Clockwork’s explanation was reasonable, from a certain perspective. It still hurt.

“Why did they do it?” asked Danny. “They said they wanted to understand, but they– Who could do that if they wanted to understand?”

“I cannot say that I understand their motives,” said Clockwork. “I certainly couldn’t imagine acting like that.” He began rubbing a small circle into Danny’s back. “But you need never see them again, if that is your wish.”

A sob caught in Danny’s throat, and before he knew what he was doing, he had twisted around to throw himself into Clockwork’s arms. Clockwork received him with a remarkable amount of grace.

“I don’t know why– I don’t– Why I’m acting like this, I barely know them, knew them, it shouldn’t feel like–” He didn’t know how to describe it. “I don’t know why.”

“The why of it does not matter so much as the fact that you do feel that way,” said Clockwork, continuing to pat Danny’s back.

“It matters to me.”

“Ah, I see,” said Clockwork, soothingly. “I’m sorry. Of course it matters to you. Of course.”

“I’m sorry,” said Danny.

“No, no,” said Clockwork, “it’s quite alright.”

“I’m crying on you.”

“It’s fine,” said Clockwork. “Tears wash out.”

“I don’t know why.”

“You learned about something very upsetting. This is natural.”

“I don’t remember it.”

“It still happened, and is responsible for your present circumstances. It’s alright to cry. I will be here.”

“I made oatmeal today,” said Clockwork, putting a steaming bowl down in front of Danny. “I thought that something simple would be best, after last night.”

Danny grunted and picked up a spoon to stir the oatmeal. It wasn’t as simple as all that, really. Clockwork had put raisins and cinnamon sugar in it. It probably tasted just as good as all the other food Clockwork had made for him.

“I’m supposed to choose now,” said Danny, listlessly.

“This is the stage of the trial where you choose, but you need not do so immediately. I cannot advise you on how to choose, or how to weigh your options, but it would not be out of the question for you to contemplate the matter for several days.”

“Right,” said Danny. He scrubbed at his face. Even after he’d sent Clockwork away, he’d cried on and off all night. His skin around his eyes felt grainy and salty. “What happens, when I choose? Do you just teleport me back and the doors start working again? And I, um, get my memory back?”

“That is a portion of it,” said Clockwork. He sat down at the table across from Danny. “First, however, the power involved in the ritual that is the trial would coalesce into a bond between you and your chosen guardian. This would include the power involved in altering your form, so you would shortly thereafter regain your original appearance.”

“I kind of like the ears and tail, though.” He ran his hands over his ears reflexively. “They’re fluffy.”

Clockwork smiled. “There are ways you can either regain or retain them. Once that has occurred, the Observants will come to return your memories, and, finally, you will be escorted to your guardian.”

“Huh,” said Danny. He poked at the oatmeal some more.

“You should eat,” said Clockwork, gently.

Danny sighed, and did his best.

“I should make a list,” said Danny, having given up on breakfast.

“Of what?” asked Clockwork.

“Names,” said Danny. “Of people. Choices.”

“You already have one of those,” Clockwork pointed out. “In the folder.”

“Oh. Yeah. Where did that get to, anyway?”

Clockwork slid it across the table, along with a pencil.

“Thanks,” said Danny. He flipped the folder open. “I guess I can start by crossing off the people I’m definitely not going to choose.”

“That seems like a logical way to proceed,” agreed Clockwork.

“So. Not the Observants, obviously.”

He looked up at Clockwork out of the corner of his eye. He could swear he’d seen him smirk at that pronouncement. Just a little.

“And not Skulker, Ember, and Technus,” he continued, moving down to the next entry he could safely cross out. “And not, and not, um. Not Jack and Maddie. Those’re– those are the ones I can’t, who won’t, um. Yeah.” He looked at the rest of the list. “Vlad is okay, but he lied to me a bunch, and I don’t really get why we were enemies, so when I get my memory back, I might hate him again, so not him. Jazz…”

Danny licked his lips and tapped the eraser of the pencil against the table. He liked Jazz. And she was his sister. Given everything else, he could sort of understand why she was lying, but… No. Vlad had a point, saying that he shouldn’t choose her.

“Not Jazz,” said Danny, finally. “I don’t want to do that to her. Which leaves Pandora and Frostbite.”

“A difficult decision indeed.”

“Yeah,” said Danny. He sighed. Either one of them would be good. Different. Very different. The culture shock would be hard. Ancient Greece and the Far Frozen were both very different from what he was used to. But Frostbite and Pandora would take care of him, and that’s what really mattered, in the end.

But he had to wonder if there wasn’t another option.

“Clockwork, you knew me before, didn’t you?”

“I cannot tell you that.”

“Right. But Jazz knew you, which sort of implies that I knew you. So. You knew me.” Danny bit his lower lip, thinking. “You, um. Why didn’t you join in? As a guardian, I mean. Why didn’t you, um. Apply? Is that the right term?”

“It’s as good as any.” Clockwork leaned back in his chair. “There are still limits on what I can tell you.”

“Yeah, but tell me what you can tell me.”

“If I were to adopt a child,” said Clockwork. “Any child, not necessarily you; you understand that I cannot speak of such specifics.”

“Right,” said Danny.

“But, if I were to try to adopt a child, the Observants would be very cross with me.”

“Why?”

“Because my responsibilities to such a child would supercede my oaths and duties to them. They would not appreciate the loss of control, and would do everything in their power to prevent it.”

“Like, by making you be a neutral party. Taking you out of the running.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork. “That would be something they might do.”

Danny fidgeted with the edge of the paper folder. “If you– Did you– Would you have applied? If you could? You know, hypothetically.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork, simply.

Danny took a deep breath and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “Then… Then, if I… I can choose anyone, can’t I? Anyone I want, right?”

“Correct,” said Clockwork. “That is the base rule upon which this whole trial is based.”

“So… what happens if I do? If I, um, if I choose you?”

“That would be a nonstandard ending to the trial,” said Clockwork. “It would not end as smoothly, perhaps, as it normally would. The pathways that the power involved would travel upon may be confused. You may not regain your original form. The Observants would certainly withhold your memories.”

“And that would be… bad,” said Danny. “That would be…” He shook himself all over. “I, um. I don’t think…” He faltered, looking down at his hands. “That wouldn’t be much of a loss. Really.”

“Fifteen years of memories is not insignificant,” said Clockwork, a note of warning in his voice. “This is not a decision to make lightly. It will affect your entire life. There may even be other side effects that I have not listed. Things that even I cannot foresee.”

“I don’t think I want to remember. Not if it means remember what…” He swallowed, with difficulty. If what had been written in that binder had actually happened, he didn’t want to remember it. “I’ve been thinking about this decision for months, right? Every moment I remember. I’m not making it lightly. I know how important it is.”

Clockwork inclined his head towards Danny, acknowledging the point.

“Pandora and Frostbite are great, but…” Danny took a deep breath. “But it’s you. I choose you.” He braced himself preparing for rejection. A sort of tension built inside his chest until the feeling scraped the edge of pain.

Then Clockwork was next to him and reached out to him, putting one hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek. “Oh, Daniel,” he said.

The tension abruptly collapsed, and Danny let himself fall forward, into Clockwork’s arms. Clockwork carded a gloved hand through Danny’s hair, ruffling his ears.

“It’s okay, right? It’s okay for me to choose you.”

“Of course it is,” said Clockwork. “Of course. I cannot tell you how glad I am.”

“But you can tell me other things, though, right? You’re not neutral anymore.”

“Quite right,” said Clockwork, and Danny could hear a smile in his voice. “I have so many things to tell you.”

“What kind of things?” asked Danny, settling his head against Clockwork’s collarbone. Or whatever ghosts had instead of collarbones.

“All sorts,” said Clockwork. He chuckled. “You’ll be able to see my actual lair.”

“Is it purple, too?”

“You’ll see.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 1 day

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Insomnia

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~1.5k

Summary: Sleepless nights

A/N: Can you tell I've been thinking a lot of angsty thoughts?

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence, and death

Her gasp echoes inside the otherwise silent room as she jerks awakes. She looks around the room frantically only to realize that she’s in her bedroom, and it’s the middle of the night. At least she thinks it is, she’s not sure, but the bit of moonlight that shines through the window is only enough to illuminate the end of the bed.

Wanda fists the sheets beneath her as she struggles to get her breathing under control. She shakes her head with a grimace, trying to forget the images she’d seen before she’d been startled back to consciousness.

She hates that even days later she’s still haunted by the shootout that nearly killed her. Her grimace turns to a wince when she feels pain shoot up her left arm from the death-like grip she has on the sheets. She mutters a curse before turning toward you when she hears you shifting beside her.

Both you and Wanda had been understandably rattled when your wife had returned home bloodied and bruised. You hadn’t been awake, but the sound of your dog barking and multiple sets of footsteps a little after midnight was enough to rouse you from your sleep.

Wanda still feels guilty when she remembers your expression. You’d looked terrified when you saw her arm in a sling with blood gushing from her nose.

She’d told you what happened because lying to you wasn’t an option. Even if things had been resolved, you wouldn’t accept a brush off when she looked like this. After explaining what transpired, and sending Steve to try and tie up loose ends, she’d finally gotten you to go back upstairs and back to sleep.

She’d only found and executed the man who shot her yesterday, but she hates that the thought of his cold smile and deadly promise can still send a wave of fear through her.

You won’t be at the top forever, Maximoff. You won’t be seen as the best if you can’t even protect your own…

He hadn’t said it outright, but he didn’t need to. He had threatened her friends, her family, and as soon as she’d escaped the shootout, she’d had someone check in on you.

The feeling of helplessness when she’d raced home not sure if you were okay had terrified her. She’s convinced it had taken years off of her life.

Then again, you’d claimed the same when you’d walked downstairs to see your wife bleeding all over the floor.

“Wands?”

Your voice is raspy from sleep, and Wanda can’t help but sigh heavily as a hand reaches out for her. She feels herself relax beneath your touch as you slide an arm around her waist and shoot her a sleepy, curious look.

What’s wrong?

You don’t have to ask because Wanda’s awake at two in the morning looking spooked. Even if she hadn’t been shot at just three days ago, you would guess that it was work that was bothering her. It usually was.

Your suspicion is confirmed when Wanda squeezes your hand and holds it against her as she takes a deep breath. She doesn’t answer you yet, and you wait patiently as you watch her try to push down her anxiety. You still don’t say anything as she glances to the door to double check that it’s closed. As if it would ever be open. You’d joked once, although you had been completely serious, that only sociopaths slept with their doors open.

When Wanda finally meets your gaze, you can’t stop yourself from frowning.

“I wonder…”

Wanda trails off as she considers her words carefully. She knows that her job is a source of constant stress, and sometimes disappointment for you. You’d love her to find a different job, but it wasn’t that easy and you both knew it. You’d had a conversation about her work many times before, but you’d never made much headway when it came to finding your wife a different career.

She knows that anything she says can come back and bite her because she’s the one that can make the decision to leave. Only her. You won’t do it for her despite how much you want to. So anything she says has the ability to be turned around on her which would only make her feel worse than she already does.

She tries to find words that are both sincere and contrite without seeming self-pitying. It’s a balance she’s not quite sure she manages at 2 in the morning.

“I wonder if I’ll ever feel safe.”

She feels your hand tense in her grip but she keeps going before you can reply.

“If I’ll ever be able to leave.”

You force yourself to sit up and you frown as you study your wife’s exhausted expression. You realize that you’ve underestimated how this shooting affected Wanda. She was always stressed when it came to work, but only a couple times a year did she really talk about leaving.

As much as you want it to happen, you know it can’t be rushed. You keep this in mind as you reach out for your wife’s hands and squeeze them tightly. You want to hug her, but her arm’s still bothering her, and you don’t want to hurt her.

You raise your joined hands in front of her with a sad smile before you kiss them with an inaudible sigh.

“You will, love. I know it.”

Wanda doesn’t seem convinced which doesn’t work for you. You’re not going to let your wife who was likely woken up by a nightmare sit here all night and stress. You want to reassure her that what she’s feeling right now, the paralyzing fear is only temporary. You know that she’ll get you all out someday.

“Wands. I know it may not be for years, but we’ll be safe-and together someday. We’ll have kids once we know it’s okay.”

Wanda has to pull one of her hands free to wipe the tears from her eyes, but still, she can’t help but smile as she turns to meet your earnest gaze.

“We may have to settle for another fur baby first, detka. It might be a while.”

You laugh at this and the sound lifts Wanda’s spirits in a way she hadn’t expected. You lean closer to kiss her cheek and she feels lighter when you brush your lips against hers.

“And that’s perfectly fine I could use the practice.”

Wanda hums in response and she allows herself to imagine this future. She feels like it won’t happen until she’s much older, but she considers what it would be like to raise a child with you. She’s certain you’ll be a pushover for them, just like you are with your dog, and she can’t wait to see how you spoil them rotten.

Just as quickly, Wanda wonders how it will ever be safe enough for you two to have children. She’s been involved in organized crime for longer than she’d care to admit, and it’s something that will take years to break away from. She doesn’t even know if making a clean break is possible. If this week taught her anything, if her enemies smell even the barest hint of weakness, they’ll jump on it; determined to try and destroy you.

Wanda’s thoughts of murder are interrupted when you gently pull your wife toward you. You carefully wrap your arms around her and hold her against your front before resting your head on her shoulder. You kiss her temple smiling as she hums in response.

“It will happen, but I don’t want you to worry about that right now. I need you to stay safe so we can live to be old and grumpy grandmas, okay?”

Wanda’s laughter fills you with warmth, and when she relaxes in your hold you have to stop yourself from smiling victoriously.

“Okay, Y/n. I can do that. I’ll take care of you.”

Your smile turns down when Wanda says this and you shake your head against her shoulder so she can feel it. She turns back to face you, and the look in your eyes makes her stress melt away.

“No. We’ll take care of each other. We’re in this together, Wanda.”

Wanda responds by turning in your arms so she’s leaning against you despite it being on her bad arm. She shifts so there’s not too much pressure on her wound, and you adjust as well so you can hold her close.

“You’re right, detka. We’ll do this like we do everything else.”

You kiss the top of Wanda’s head before sinking back into the pillows behind you. You’re exhausted but you only care about making sure your wife feels safe. Even if it’s just for tonight. You breathe out a sigh before your lips curl up into a smile. You nod more to yourself than to Wanda, but she hears what you mutter under your breath before you drift off.

“Together.”

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #silver springs #silver springs drabble #mob au

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magpiepills · 2 days

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Made Me Love You

Chapter 2

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY! MDNI

Pairing: Tommy Miller x AFAB reader, Joel Milled x AFAB reader

work count: 3.7

Summary: you and Joel are left to your own devices after a night of debauchery with Tommy and emotions run high.

Warnings: smut, PIV, Unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, infidelity, size kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cum eating, feelings, angst. No use of Y/N no established age gap, no physical description of reader, angst, etc.

A word from the author: this is a repost! I don’t normally like to get too plot heavy because I prefer to jam-pack my writing with wall to wall smut, but I didn’t think I could continue this story without some plot. Don’t worry, though, it’s still plenty explicit. I think I may have one more chapter in me to finish out this story, maybe two. I can’t make promises, though. If you see spelling and/or grammar mistakes, just ignore those. I write all this on a phone with a broken screen. Hope you enjoy! Big kiss to the ✨magic sluts✨ for the inspiration.

Tommy didn’t wake you before he slipped out for a long day checking over a new job site. He had left you sleeping peacefully, alone in the bed you’d shared, where he and his brother had both fucked you thoroughly last night. Your sleep was deep and dreamless. Just like you had wanted, and you awoke slowly, tangled in the sheet, naked and warm. You looked around and let the memory of the night before play back in your mind. It made your heart ache. The room was quiet and still, with sunlight slanting in through the curtains. When you rolled over, Joel was there, in his own bed, face squished into his pillow, looking at you as if waiting for you to tell him what to do, but you just met his gaze and looked into his eyes for a while across the narrow space between your beds, each of you at the end of an invisible tether.

Joel had woken up early, he never slept well but it was pointless to even try after what had happened.

“Hungry?”

“Mm. Coffee maybe.” You kept the conversation simple, not wanting to get into the messy tangle you’d tied with him last night at 8am. You stretched, arching your back into the mattress. You realized that you were still naked under the sheets, and debated asking Joel to hand you your robe but the little part of you that liked teasing him won out, and you slipped out of bed naked to saunter to the bathroom. You didn't check to see if he was looking.

You took a long shower, repeating your routine while replaying everything that had happened in your mind, remembering everything they had said. Everything Joel had said. You didn’t regret it exactly, but you hadn’t given any thought to how things would be between the three of you now. Part of you hoped you’d never speak of it again, never acknowledge it, wipe the whole thing from your memories, only revisiting it when you were all alone and certain that no one could hear you thinking. Another part wanted every night to be an encore, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm of generous sex in dim hotel rooms. That couldn’t happen, though. Another part, a quiet part, wanted Joel to be all yours- wanted him to be the one you would go back home with.

By the time you clicked off the bathroom light, everything was made up in your mind. Last night didn’t happen, there would be no repeat, no need to talk it over, and everything would be just as it had been before. It was easier that way. No proof anything had ever happened existed. If anyone found out it would be because Tommy or Joel had told. You would deny the whole thing, play it off as an inside joke and let them sort the betrayal out for themselves. It was the only option that could make sense, even if it made your chest ache a little, knowing that Joel was everything you wanted and would never have. Not the way you really wanted him, anyway.

You finished primping, put on some sunscreen and your favorite purple swimsuit, and went in search of your book to read by the pool.

Your resolve nearly shattered before you could make it out of the room. Sitting on your bed, next to your book, looking warm and inviting in a dark blue t-shirt and cargo shorts, holding an iced coffee as if he had dropped straight from boyfriend heaven, was Joel. Damn him. He smiled and held out the coffee, and you wanted to melt into his chest. Damn him. “Got donuts too.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he worried he would frighten you away. His eyes are so big and dark and soft and full of things he wanted to tell you. Things he would tell you later.

Your plan hadn’t included a section on explaining to the brothers that none of you were to speak of the event, and were to act as if it were a strange dream. You flipped your book out of the way and sat beside him, hoping that your nerves would settle with some caffeine. Your plan didn’t include him looking this good, either.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do this.” You tried so hard to sound casual, like you hadn’t cried his name into his shoulder while he fucked you better than anyone ever had before, and that you weren’t still dabbing his cum, commingled with his brother’s from your pussy. He clearly didn’t get the message from your tone, because after he handed you a donut, his hand was on your thigh in an impossibly casual gesture of intimacy.

“I should be taking you out to breakfast after last night.” His voice was an octave lower, and slower. Oh no. “We don’t have to… we can…we could act like that didn’t happen.”

“Is he good to you?” So much for that.

“Yeah, Joel. He’s good. It’s good.”

“He’s away a lot.”

“It’s his job. He’s got to be at the sites. You understand that. You’re away working a lot too.” You can hear the waver in your own voice. You can hear how it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.

“I’m here now.” He said, moving a little closer and gently dragging two thick fingers back and forth across your shoulder.

“We should go to the beach. Make a day of it. Tommy said he wouldn’t be home until late and I don’t want to waste a nice day like this.” He made it easy to read between the lines. “How late did he say?” How much time did you have alone with Joel before Tommy came back? “Six. Maybe later. He’s going to a meeting with the building inspector. We have the whole day.” His eyes searched your face, desperate for you to understand him. Last night wasn’t enough for him.

He watched as you dug through your drawer for the swimsuit you wanted, admiring the soft curves and slopes of your body, greedily staring at all the things he'd only imagined before. Once you were tied into your suit, you turned to Joel and saw he’d changed into the ugliest trunks you’d ever seen in your life. “Joel ..” you gawked at him, they looked too big and the pattern was a garish yellow, blue, and black pattern that your brain couldn’t even make sense of. “What? What’s wrong with them?” He ran his hand over the front, adjusting his half hard cock in the mesh lining, watching you watch him touch himself. “Nothing. Ready to go?” He pulled on a stretched out white t-shirt, zipped a key card into his back pocket, and you slipped out of the hotel into the morning sun. You walked up the beach, avoiding the most obvious topic, and falling into comfortable silence. Your mind swam with conflict. Thoughts of Tommy, your relationship, and how what you really wanted was to stay in the room and fuck Joel again.

When you made it down to the beach, Joel held the little cooler he’d packed in one hand, and took your hand in the other while you carried the bag with your towels and sunscreen. You walked further, looking for a more secluded spot away from your hotel and his arm was around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. It felt so natural to be with him like this that you could easily ignore everything that was wrong. Finally picking a place to set up for the day, Joel rented an umbrella and you laid out the towels side by side, making a solitary little island in the sand for the two of you to live on disconnected from reality for as long as possible.

You took turns rubbing sunscreen into each other. He started with your back, then slid down your arms. He took his time on your chest, his fingertips dimpling the plush swell of your breasts, dipping under the fabric of your top, watching intently how your body responded to his touch. Marveled at how your nipples were hard and pressed against the triangle of your top. Satisfied with his work, he guided you to lean back into your elbows. He squeezed more Hawaiian Tropic into his palm and spread it across your belly. You could have done this yourself, but he didn’t stop and you wanted every bit of contact you could get today.

His touch was tender and slow, working his way over your hips, thighs, calves. He felt like he was getting away with something when he touched you like this. When he was done he handed the bottle to you and laid on his stomach. You straddled him and as you slicked him up, making him smell like an island god, you teased him. “I should leave a bare spot in the shape of my initials. Give you a sunburn tramp stamp.” He scoffed, “Do it. Brand me. Then I’ll put my name on you. Once my name’s on it, it’s mine.” He squinted up at you with one eye and gave your knee a squeeze and rolled under you to lay on his back, his new position letting you feel his hard length against your pussy. You rubbed your core against him as you covered his chest in SPF 50, admiring the freckles that made constellations over his shoulders.

When you were done you moved off his lap, pulling away from his grasp. You took a nectarine from your bag and took a few bites before Joel held your wrist and pulled the fruit to his mouth, holding your gaze he took a bite right over where yours had been in what felt like a small, but profoundly intimate act.

“Come swim with me.” Joel was a strong swimmer, and it was one more thing about him you liked. You always knew you were safe with him. He always knew what to do, he stayed calm, he was strong and big and decisive. Tommy was a good swimmer too, but you knew he couldn’t save you if you were in danger.

Out as far as you could go in the water, you swam, paddling over the waves, floating on your backs, diving under or getting knocked under by early breakers. Joel was always there to turn you right side up, helping readjust your swimsuit while you got your bearings. When it felt like it must be lunch time, you motioned toward the shore. He hesitated, then wrapped his arms around you and took you a little deeper and kissed you. He tasted like saltwater and the nectarine you’d shared.

He held your hips,and pulled you close until his thigh was between your legs, letting you feel how hard he was. No one could see you and no one could stop you from grinding against him, aided by his big, strong hands now palming your ass under your swimsuit. Joel kissed your neck, and slid his right hand over until his fingers covered your pussy, making you whine at the sensation and tighten your grip on his shoulders. He kissed your ear and spoke into it, sounding equal parts surprised and proud. “Wasn’t sure I’d get to touch you like this again, but I think you want it.” He was getting bolder in the privacy of the water. “I think you wanted this before.” He emphasized his point with another firm press against your increasingly sensitive folds. If this was an interrogation, you were folding. “Yeah. Yes. Wanted you before. Wanted this.” You reached between your bodies into his stupid, ugly trunks and found him hard. You stroked him as he continued his ministrations and breathed into your ear as you told him how you’d thought of him when you were alone, making yourself come on your fingers. How you’d pictured him instead of Tommy when there was a cock spurting down your throat, and how you wanted him to overwrite all of your memories and color himself in their place.

He had enough. He pushed you away from his body, and pulled you slowly to shore, taking time to think of baseball, gravel, traffic, bugs, anything to draw the blood away from his cock long enough to get back to the hotel. Back on land, he threw his towel around his neck and wrapped you in yours, rushing you back toward the room the two of you shared with your boyfriend. The walk was silent and heavy with anticipation. Joel kept you tucked tight against his side. In the elevator he took your hand and squeezed it tight, looking down at you and not bothering to hide his desire, but still silent. It was a long ride up. Every time the doors opened and closed, letting other guests on and off at their floors you wanted to scream. Finally, finally back at the room, you barely made it in the door before he was crowding you against the door, holding you, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses over your neck and jaw, before gently pushing you onto your knees. “Just for a minute. Please. I’ve gotta see your lips around me again.”

You liked how he looked when he begged. You made a show of looking up at him as you tugged down those hideous trunks, letting his cock spring free before your face. You grasped the base and gave him a few light licks up the length of his shaft, kissed the blushing head, then wrapped your hand around his shaft to gently pump him while you lavished attention there. His foreskin was smooth and soft on your tongue and slipped back and forth just a bit with your movements. You dropped both hands to your knees and took him further, slowly down, slowly back up, letting him hear you breathe, holding his gaze. He was babbling half coherent praise as you sucked “yeah, just like that. Fuck. So good. So fuckin’ good. Look at you.” You thought he would come in your mouth, but instead he pulled you up and walked you backward toward his bed, guiding you onto your back.

He leaned over you, boxing you in with a muscular arm on either side of your head and a knee between your thighs, tantalizingly close to where you needed to feel him most, but frozen by the charge in the air between you. Joel was looking down at you with a look of menace and tenderness, want and victory. It made your pussy ache. He watched your chest rise and fall, the flush that crept up your chest and neck giving away how needy you were for him.

“Take this off.” He pulled at the strings of your top while you untied the bottom and dispatched it across the room.

He wanted everything all at once. “Hands and knees for me, angel. Come on.” He urged you and helped you position how he wanted you, legs spread wide and back arched in lewd presentation. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” He held you steady with both hands firm on the globes of your ass as he leaned down and licked a broad stripe from your clit to your entrance, taking his time to taste you before retracing his path, firmer this time, pushing his tongue inside you, bringing his thumb to your clit to stroke it softly. Pulling his mouth away, Joel watched himself use his thumb to spread your wetness all around, loving how you wriggled and sighed. “You’re a mess. So wet. Look at that.” He sealed his lips around you once more and sucked firmly on your clit, making you cry his name while your thighs quaked in an all consuming orgasm.

You sank into the soft bedding and caught your breath as he rubbed up and down your thighs. “Fuck me, Joel. Please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He asked, almost surprised. “Yeah. Ok, baby. Anything you want.”

He stroked himself and notched at your entrance, pushing inside slowly so you could adjust to his size. You whined at the stretch and groaned when he was fully seated, Joel stilled there, letting you feel his weight, his heavy cock, and kissed your jaw. “I don’t think I can let him have you back.” He didn’t give you time to absorb what he was saying, he pulled back slowly, then thrust forward a little faster, angling his hips to grind his pubic bone against your clit while letting him watch himself fuck you. His filthy narration had you on the edge.

“I love how you take me. Squeeze my cock so fucking tight.” He moaned into your shoulder, a deep, rough sound, he had to stop himself from sucking dark purple marks into your neck. “Look so pretty on this big cock. Gonna come for me one more time?” Joel kept his pace and babbled to you, letting one hand wander to your tits to brush over your sensitive nipples, or down to grab your ass and pull you tight against him. “Won’t last much longer, baby I’m sorry. Where do you want me?”

You really wanted him to come inside you. Wanted to feel it again, wanted a filthy souvenir dripping from you later while you were laying in bed with Tommy. But you weren’t ready for that conversation, so you said simply “not inside.”

Joel nodded, understanding that he couldn’t make the decision for you, so he just hitched his left leg under your hip for better leverage and drilled into you hard and fast. The angle let him hit just perfectly over that spot inside that made you see god. Your orgasm hit hard and it was all Joel could do to pull out and rut against your mound, smearing cum between your naked bodies.

Rolling off of you, Joel went to fetch a towel. He let you use it first, but you swiped a finger through his spend and brought it to your mouth, tasting him at last. There may as well have been stars in Joel’s eyes as he watched.

It was still early, 2:30 when you got into the shower and Joel went out to bring back lunch. Alone again under the hot spray, you thought. You thought about Tommy, about the perfectly adequate life you had together for the last eight months. He was good, he took you out, he was a generous lover, he has friendly and optimistic and he was so, so into you. And you liked that. But he was also immature, drinking a lot, getting into fights, losing jobs until Joel let him come to work at his small company. You wanted to bend time, make it so you met Joel first.

When you got out of the shower it was a bit of deja vu. Younfreshly showered, Joel waiting to feed you. This time it was a sack from Five Guys, and a big cup of sweet tea. Exactly what you needed. You and Joel talked while you ate, avoiding the obvious topic, and instead talked about movies you liked, books you had read, music you listened to, Joel told you about things he was doing to his house, a fixer-upper he had bought recently. “Maybe when we can get back you can come over and see. Give me some paint colors that would look good. ‘M not good at that part. Needs a woman’s touch I guess.” You dug a few fries from

The bottom of the bag and drifted away for a second to a reality where you and Joel could live together and be together and everything worked out for the best. Then you just nodded. “I’d love that.”

After Joel showered you only had about an hour until Tommy was expected back. You made the most of it, naked under the covers in Joel’s bed, legs entwined, mouths melded together while he made you come again on his long, thick fingers. “We don’t have to tell him anything, sweetheart. This can be whatever you want. I don’t want to make all this hard for ya. I won’t say anything to him if y’dont want me to. And if y’do I’ll handle him. Been handling him his whole life.” Joel looked pretty like this, naked and warm in the white hotel sheets with his tan skin and freckled shoulders, his big dark eyes, his pretty sloping nose and his untamable curly hair. “I want you, Joel.” Your voice was soft and light, he almost wasn’t sure he heard you. “Tell me again. Slowly.” You said it louder, you said it again, you said it as you kissed him. Joel beamed as he hugged you right to his chest and kissed you once more, pouring all of his unspoken feelings into you the best he could.

You’d just barely gotten buttoned back into a pair of shorts and tank top when Tommy came into the room. You went to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smelled like sun and sweat and dust. He pulled you up to him in a deep kiss that trailed down your neck, and cupped your ass with one hand. “Missed you today, baby.” “Missed you too, Tommy.” You nuzzled into his neck as you spoke, since again letting your imagination shape shift him into his brother. His brother who was out on the balcony, with your scent still on him. “Where’s Joel? What did you do with him today?” It was an innocent question, but you felt guilty as you quickly glanced around the room, afraid that there would be some glaring sign that would tell him you spend the day fucking his brother. Of course there wasn’t, but Tommy noticed the way you tensed and shifted his weight to one foot, cocking his head to the side. “Something wrong?”

“No, just uh, just hungry.” You lied.

Tommy studied your face in silence before kissing the top of your head. “Go get changed and we’ll go get some dinner. You nodded, relieved to have any suspicion out of Tommy’s mind for now. You weren’t even sure if he would be mad. He had enjoyed seeing you with Joel last night, so maybe you should just be honest about fucking him today. You rolled the idea around in your head as you put on your dress, and Tommy picked up the damp piece of purple fabric from the floor at the end of Joel’s bed.

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters #bat writes #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #Joel miller x you x Tommy miller #smut

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Text

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 4/34 - phone battery

[Read on AO3]

After a bit of a drought of decent cases, their latest, honest to goodness X-File was a welcome distraction. It hadn’t taken too long to wrap up either, which was a double win for Scully, who could only handle so many nights in a dilapidated motel room in a row. With the case now solved, more or less, all that remained for the morning was a bit of paperwork and a drive to the nearest airport to get back home.

“Your mom called me last night,” Mulder says, sitting in the driver’s seat of their rental car.

“Last night?” Scully asks, furrowing her brows. “What for?”

“It was when we got back to the motel, after your phone battery went dead. I told her to give it a few minutes and try again, give you a chance to get it charged.”

Scully doesn’t respond immediately, and when Mulder turns to look at her, he sees a puzzled look on her face, a crease forming between her brows.

“She didn’t call you?” he asks, matching her expression and turning his attention back to the road.

“No,” Scully answers, concern marring her features. “What did she say?”

“I think she was going to ask you something about Christmas, figuring out plans or something,” he says. “I did mention we were on a case, maybe she decided she’ll just call when you get back and aren’t busy.”

“Probably,” Scully says, then sits back in the passenger seat and gazes out the window at the passing scenery.

He steals another glance at her, thinking about the heavy weight that hung over his brief conversation with his future mother-in-law on the phone the night before. It really had been a short talk, with her asking if he knew where Scully (rather, Dana) was, and then how he’s been doing since his unwitting brain surgery.

He made polite conversation, of course, but keeping such a gigantic secret from a woman like Margaret Scully has a way of making one feel guilty for things they aren’t even guilty of. If the call had gone on much longer, he fears he would have started confessing like a Catholic over the phone, and he couldn’t have that.

Clearing his throat, he asks, “You think we should tell her about us?” then quickly corrects, “I mean– the adoption, eloping…”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Not yet,” she answers.

He shoots her another glance—only for a moment—but to be honest, that wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting.

“I know you said you don’t want a big wedding or anything, but if you want to tell her, you can. I doubt she’d give you any real trouble for it,” he reasons, having a hard time believing Mrs. Scully would be anything but supportive once everything has been explained to her.

“It’s not that. I just—” she struggles to explain. “With Emily, it was so stressful and confusing for her. I don’t want to put her through more of that unless…”

Ah.

He reaches over and places his hand on top of hers, which rests on her knee.

“Unless you’re absolutely sure this is going to work out,” he finishes, and she nods, grateful she doesn’t have to conjure the words herself.

“There are so many variables at play here, Mulder. Any one of them could go wrong,” she says. He knows she’s mentally making a list, calculating how likely each factor is to throw a wrench in their plans. She’d be here a while if she wanted to plan for every possibility, but that won’t stop her from trying, he knows.

He squeezes her hand once. “I hope you know that whatever happens, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere.”

That earns a small smile, and she looks down at her lap in that way that she thinks hides her blush from him. Thankfully, it does no such thing.

“No, the Mulder variable is one that I have on good authority is fairly constant,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Oh? And are those findings available in a peer-reviewed journal article, Dr. Scully?” he teases back. “If you don’t cite your sources, I’m afraid your claims may be dismissed as unsubstantiated by the wider scientific community.”

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” she says, “I’m still working on gathering all my evidence. Research takes time, you know.”

“Maybe run some more tests,” he suggests.

She reaches out, running a hand through his hair, gently brushing over the place where his head had been drilled into.

“I’ll try to keep it less invasive than your previous experiences,” she teases, a small smile pulling at her lips.

He breathes out a laugh, forcing his focus back on the road instead of on the feeling of her nimble fingers tousling his hair.

-.-.-

Their discussion picks up again on the plane, perhaps serving as a distraction for his partner who isn’t all that fond of flying.

“You agree with me, don’t you?” she asks.

He gives her a look, his best impression of the Skeptical Scully Brow.

“Is that a blanket statement? Because in general, no, I think that would be factually incorrect, Scully, that’s kind of our whole thing.”

“I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes, “that we should wait to tell people. At least my family.”

He turns toward her. That she’s bringing this up again shows that it’s something she’s really worried about. If it’s reassurance she needs, he’s happy to give it to her.

“Sure, Scully. You know them best.” Really it isn’t his place to decide this, but if she’s asking, maybe she wants it to be. They will, in a way, be his family too if all this works out.

She takes a deep breath, her usual flying anxiety momentarily forgotten in favor of whatever new kind of anxiety this was. “I just mean– If we even get approved, and if we get matched with someone… there’s always a chance the birth mother changes her mind at the last minute,” she says, talking through the scenario aloud. “This will be hard enough with just you and I to worry about. I don’t want to have to think about protecting my mother from heartbreak on top of everything else.”

He has to suppress a sigh on hearing her pessimistic view of what he’s hoping will be a very joyous process. But then again, this is what he loves about her. She’s the yin to his yang. The day to his night. Together, they cover all their bases, leaving no stone unturned in their search for the truth. Why should this be any different? He won’t get very far on nothing but blind hope. She’s here to ensure they are prepared for everything, come what may. Unfortunately, that means her taking on an extra burden of worry, one he hopes he might help alleviate.

“We can wait to tell them,” he vows, hoping that will put a stop to her spiraling. “I’m with you on this, don’t forget. We’re a team.”

She leans back, her head resting against the back of her seat, a sign he knows means she’s relaxing a little.

Success.

Still, the idea of telling no one at all feels dangerous. They need to have someone in their corner besides each other, for a whole slew of reasons. Character witness, taking time off work, filing necessary paperwork so that everything looks totally above board when they make it official… Really, there’s only one person he feels they have to tell, and that’s—

“What about Skinner?”

She turns her head to look at him, confusion playing on her face. “What about him?”

“I think we should tell him. Sooner than later.”

Maybe he should have planned out his pitch a little better. He can tell she’s not immediately drawn to the idea. He should have made up a list of reasons why it is a good plan, not just blurted out his half-formed thought before it was ready.

“But Mulder, what if they split us up?”

He turns in his seat, his attention intensifying. “That’s why we only tell Skinner. Ask him to keep it quiet in case things don’t work out.” She’s gonna need more than that. Think! Tap into those persuasive skills! "But, Scully, there’s going to be times we might have to take an afternoon off for a meeting or something. It will be easier if he knows.”

His focused gaze implores her to consider it.

“I won’t let him split us up. It won’t happen.”

He can’t promise that, she knows, but they know Skinner well enough by now, don’t they? Sure, there may have been times when their trust in him wasn’t so strong, but it has been years now. Surely he would keep this to himself if they asked, right?

“Okay. You’re right…” she says tentatively, turning over his proposition in her head. “Just Skinner. No one else?”

His pinkie finger finds its way to hers and nudges it playfully. When she looks up at him, he smiles.

“Just you, me, and our big, bald boss makes three.”

~~~

SURPRISE - that was a short chapter, so here's another to make up for it

Chapter 5/34 - rulebook

“Hold on, go back to the IVF,” the follically challenged Assistant Director says, his hands tented in front of him. His brows furrow in concentration, and he breathes deeply through his nose, looking up at the two agents across the desk from him. “In vitro fertilization, right? So you’re saying—”

“Agent Mulder and I attempted to conceive a child through scientific means last year, yes.”

Scully’s answer is straightforward, perhaps hoping it will be like ripping off a band-aid. Judging by his stoic reaction, his pursed lips, the vein popping out of his forehead… her nonchalance does not really soften the blow.

His gruff voice returns after a moment of staring at them, his expression unreadable. “Right. Okay. Just wanted to make sure I was understanding.”

“It was unsuccessful,” Scully offers, continuing. “The ova that were fertilized unfortunately were not viable, probably due to the inconsistent storage conditions in which Mulder found them.”

“Yes, that– that’s where you lost me. The part about your abduction and then the cancer…” He sets a hand on top of one of the files Mulder had brought him, as if any of the words in that folder made a lick of sense to him.

“Believe me, sir, it’s just about as confusing to us as it is to you,” Mulder says.

Skinner clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Well, I’m very sorry about what happened to you, Agent Scully. I suppose that also explains the existence of… well…”

Emily. A story he never had fully explained.

“Yes, Emily was somehow part of all this. She was an experiment, never meant for me to find.”

Skinner balls his hand into a fist, tamping down the rage he feels bubbling up inside. “These men need to pay. What they’ve done to you– to you both… ”

“With all due respect, sir,” Mulder breaks in, “we’re not here to talk about revenge. We’re just trying to move forward.”

That’s… a surprisingly healthy outlook, coming from Mulder. What had Scully done to him? Whatever it was, the man owed her a heckuva lot more than whatever her last birthday and Christmas gifts had been.

“Of course, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “So, what is it that you were asking for?”

The two basement-dwelling agents glance at each other, words being passed unspoken between them. It’s unnerving, the way they do that. Downright spooky.

Evidently, they come to the decision that it’s Mulder who should say the next part.

“Well, since we’re looking into adoption, sir, we thought it might be easier if we got married.”

Silence fills the room, an inadvertent staredown commencing between all parties.

“Married.”

Mulder nods. “That’s right.”

Scully is sitting bolt upright in her chair, a picture of professionalism on the surface, but in conjunction with the topic of discussion, it feels distinctly forced. Mulder, on the other hand, is bouncing his knee so severely that it’s a wonder he hasn’t worn a hole in the carpet below him yet.

“We just don’t want there to be any issues here on the bureaucratic side of things, if at all possible,” Mulder adds. “In fact, we’d prefer to keep this quiet, at least until we know if this will work.”

Skinner presses his lips together, shifting his gaze between them once again.

“Well, your personal relationship will have to be disclosed to HR at some point. I can pull some strings—”

“Sir—”

“Although it would have been good to know a little earlier on. Say, around the time you were making some pretty serious medical decisions that may have affected your ability to do your jobs…”

“Sir, I—”

Mulder’s attempts to interrupt go unnoticed.

“You know, I have to commend you. You’ve really kept up appearances around here. I had my suspicions, of course, but you continued on like normal, I almost wouldn’t have guessed—”

“Sir, we’re not actually… together.” Finally, Mulder is able to get the words out, leaving an awkward hush in their wake.

Skinner leans forward, turning his ear toward the younger man as if he hadn’t heard him the first time. “What do you mean?”

A pink tinge blooms on Mulder’s cheeks. “We’re not– Sir, this marriage is a formality, to make the application process easier and hopefully give us better chances of getting approved.”

“A formality,” Skinner repeats.

“Yes. We– We’re just trying to do whatever’s best to improve the odds that this works out.”

One of these days he’s just going to disappear to Cancún. Seriously, he’ll do it. This can’t be good for his health. He suppresses a groan, storing up a massive eye roll for whenever these two idiots leave the room. Only they could think up something like getting married and adopting a child platonically . Not to mention everything else they’d evidently been doing when left to their own devices.

“Right. That’s– Okay, sure. So then, the IVF…”

Scully pipes up. “I asked Mulder, and he agreed to help me.”

“As a friend?” He feels like this bears clarification.

“Is there something against that in the rulebook?” Mulder asks challengingly.

The look he gives them in return is withering. “I don’t think there’s a rulebook for all the insane stuff you two get up to, but I might have to make one, after this.” The two of them have the decency to look chastised at this, though he knows from experience it will do no good in the long run. “You know this is not normal, right?”

“Come on, Skinner, when have I ever been referred to as normal?” Mulder laughs.

“ You , I might expect this from,” he says, pointing a finger in his direction. “It’s Agent Scully that surprises me. You’ve really done a number on her, haven’t you?”

He takes a little solace in the fact that all this IVF business happened under Kersh’s watch, not his own. Imagine if it had worked…

“Will you help us or not, sir?” Scully asks, impatience beginning to make her uneasy in her seat.

He waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah. I thought this day might come at some point, but… definitely not like this.” His mind is wandering already, thinking back to any signs he might have missed, things that may have gone wrong in his career to lead him to this exact moment. “You have my blessing, or whatever it is you came to get from me. You need anything, just ask.”

Scully lets out a sigh, and her shoulders visibly relax.

Mulder moves to stand without another moment’s hesitation, bouncing up with far more energy than a man of his age should have. “Thank you, sir. I promise, this is the last time we ask you to cover for us.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Agent Mulder,” Skinner warns, though his words contain no malice. If anything, he’s resigned.

As much as these two make him tear his hair out (what little he has left), he holds a certain fondness for them that is undeniable.

“And, hey– I’m happy for you. Seriously. The things I’ve seen you go through over the years, everything you’ve lost… You deserve this. Even if I don’t understand it.”

Mulder holds out a hand for him to shake. “Skinner. Thank you. Really.”

He nods. “Good luck with everything. And if you need any advice on adoption, my ex-wife’s sister has gone through it before. I can get you in touch, if you want.”

“We’d really appreciate that.”

They’re gone before he knows it, heads bent toward each other in secretive conversation before they’re even out of sight.

Skinner lets out the eye roll from earlier, leaning back in his desk chair in exhaustion.

They’d figure it out sooner or later, of that he is certain. It’s just taking a little longer than he expected, that’s all.

-.-.-

"I want to get married Christmas Eve."

The proposition comes out of nowhere on a Thursday afternoon, and Mulder nearly spills his coffee mug all over his desk instead of setting it down gently like he was trying to do.

"Next week?" he sputters, the burning liquid nearly going down the wrong pipe.

She purses her lips. "...That's when Christmas is, yeah Mulder."

"I knew there was a reason that guy on the street corner with the bell was dressed as Santa Claus," he jokes, wiping a few splattered droplets of coffee from his tie.

"Mulder..."

"Okay, okay,” he says, dropping the jokester act. “But don't you want to spend the day with your family?" he asks.

She shrugs. "Maybe.” Her eyes are locked on the desk in front of her, pointedly avoiding his concerned look. “I'll go for a little while, but they don't... understand me like they used to. Maybe it's just me, but when I'm with them for too long, I get this sense that they're... afraid of me. Or somehow uncomfortable around me. Ever since Emily..."

He stops her. "That's their problem, Scully. I'm sure they don't mean it."

"I know, it's just... hard."

He bites down on his bottom lip to hold back the slew of words he'd like to say to Bill Scully, Jr. He knows that's not what Scully needs right now, as much as it would make him feel better to have a go at him.

"Is that why you went ghostbusting with me last Christmas?" he asks, his heart softening at the thought.

"I don't know, maybe a little,” she shrugs. “It helped get my mind off things." She looks embarrassed to admit such a thing, but it only serves to make his heart twist in his chest.

"Well, too bad we don't have more time to plan. Could have had a Christmas Eve wedding in a haunted house," he deadpans.

This succeeds in getting her to look at him, and she emits a nervous giggle he doesn't often hear. "Absolutely not.”

He grins, leaning back in his chair and twirling a pencil between his fingers. "Come on, don't you think Maurice and Lyda would like to know we’re getting married? I'm sure they'd have a field day with all our issues from the past year."

"Stop it, that didn't really happen."

"Well even if it didn't, I found it enlightening."

"Good for you. No, the courthouse will be fine."

They fall silent, the jovial atmosphere settling.

"And you don't want to invite your family?” he asks, clarifying. "Since they'll be in town?"

She shakes her head. "No, I think it should be just us."

Just us. He likes the sound of that. But still, one problem remains—

"Alright, so let me get this straight... you want to get married—to me—the one day a year your brother is in town? Are you trying to get me killed?"

Her lips quirk up at the corners. "He won't find out, Mulder."

"You like the danger of it, don't you?” he teases, leaning toward her. “You're a rebel at heart. I knew it. Probably snuck out every night in high school to run around with Johnny from the football team."

She stares at him unwaveringly, not dignifying him with a response. "Is it a yes or a no?" she asks, arms crossed in front of her.

He sobers, meeting her eyes with startling honesty. "I'll marry you any day of the year, Scully,” he says, and it's the truth. It has been the truth for years now. “Just remind me to wear a cup in case he figures it out."

"You're ridiculous."

-.-.-

The next week passes in a blur. Arrangements are made, paperwork acquired, work winds down for the holidays, and for once, Mulder isn't bored out of his mind this time of year.

"I was thinking… for tomorrow..." her voice crackles over the phone.

"Not having second thoughts, are you?" Mulder asks, his tone light and teasing despite the tinge of genuine concern he tamps down.

"No, of course not,” she assures him. “I was thinking, I'll need an excuse to leave Christmas at my mom's."

"No problem,” he says with a shrug. “I'll give you a call and make up some case we have to work."

He hears her sigh and gets the distinct impression that his suggestion was somehow wrong. "I can't ask you to do that,” she says. “They already blame you for last year."

"Gee, that's reassuring,” he chuckles, leaning back on his leather sofa. He adjusts the phone cradle on his chest, stretching the power cord to its limits.

"Not all of them, but, you know—"

"Bill."

"Yeah."

He waits for a second, but when she offers no further thoughts, he asks, "Then what do you suggest?"

She waits a moment more before responding.

"Before you say anything, just listen to what I have to say…”

Oh boy.

"Why does that not give me a good feeling?" he muses aloud, his fingers twirling and tangling with the cord on the phone.

"The only way for you to be in the clear is if you're... with me, when we get called away."

"Scully—"

"We can just leave straight from her house, it's closer anyway."

"All excellent points, except for one thing..."

"Skinner can call us in."

Silence. He wants to argue but he can't.

"He already knows what's happening, I'm sure he'd be happy to help us," she reasons.

"I'm not gonna be able to talk myself out of this, am I?" he asks, a wry smile on his face. He's all out of excuses.

"Mulder, if this works out... Well, there's a chance that by this time next year, we'll be a... family... of some sort, anyway. You might have to get used to it."

The word family sends a thrill right through him. He never thought he'd have one of those again. Never in a million years.

"You're right,” he says regretfully, running a hand over his face. “And it's not that I don't like your family, Scully, it's just I'm not sure they like me back."

"My mom loves you,” she says decisively. “And we'll only be there a few hours anyway. The courthouse closes early for the holiday."

He closes his eyes. He can't believe he's about to agree to this.

"Alright, I'll go. Just so you can get your thrill in doing something wildly irresponsible and rebellious right under your mother's nose."

She protests, "That's not why I—"

"I know you, Scully,” he teases. “You're not as strait-laced as you like to pretend."

After they hang up, Mulder stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought. His stomach flutters with nerves, unrelated to his worries about crashing a family gathering in the morning.

‘I am getting married tomorrow,’ he thinks. To Dana Scully.

It's a Christmas miracle.

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

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hockeyboysimagines · 2 days

Text

I’ve loved you three

Summers

Chapter 3

Warnings: language, kissing, mild sexual content, some angst and mentions of manipulative/abusive relationships.

Hello friends! Happy this is starting to catch on a bit. @cellythefloshie s chapter should be up soon! When it’s posted I’ll link it here!

Thanks!! Enjoy and let me know what you think.

The grocery store was mostly empty at this early morning hour and Madison was thankful because she had Seth on the brain.

They’d parted ways last night with more kissing and she hadn’t seen him since then.

And she was kind of glad.

She hadn’t even begun to process what had happened the night before and was still not totally sure it wasn’t a dream. The situation with her and Seth could go one of two ways. It could either be a wonderful amazing adventure or she could run the risk of losing a lifelong friend. It really just came down whether it was worth the risk, which she already decided it was. But it wasn’t only up to her. She had no idea how he was feeling.

If she hadn’t been thinking about Seth, she would have been paying closer attention, but she didn’t even see him coming till it was too late.

“Madison?”

She turned and felt something that could only be described as dread start to settle in her stomach.

Darren was standing a few feet away, fake smile plastered on his face, the same one he wore the very first time she ever met him. She did not return it.

“Hey how are you?” He moved closer and she took a small step back. Annoyance flickered across his face.

“Fine.” She moved to walk away from him but when he followed and she turned to face him fully, arms crossed with a frown.

“Is uh-is Harper here?” He asked glancing over her shoulder.

She scoffed “No Darren. She’s not here, but I’m guessing you knew that already. Leave my sister alone.”

“How is she?”

“Did you hear what I just said? It’s none of your business. If you wanted to know that I guess you should have spent the last 6 years treating her better.” Madison’s brows were pulled low over her eyes which were blazing with anger. She wanted to punch him right in the throat and run him over with the cart.

“You don’t know anything!” He snapped loudly at her, drawing the attention of the few people nearby.

But Madison wasn’t having it and stood her ground.

“You might have been able to bully my sister but don’t think for one second you’re going to bully me.” Madison was glaring at him “Stay away from Harper. If you ever really loved her you’ll let her move on. Or if you want to tempt fate show up to the house. I dare you.” Madison smiled a little and for the first time Darren’s confidence faltered. He knew better.

“Can you tell her-“

“Fuck off.” She turned away from him, heart beating loudly in her chest. Darren didn’t scare her, but her sister potentially having to suffer for it did.

She didn’t want to tell Harper and upset her but it would also upset her if she didn’t and Harper found out later. She was glad she had elected to take the grocery store errand and that Harper didn’t or it would be a very different conversation they’d be having

Madison checked out, not even sure she'd gotten everything, and made her way home, noting Seth’s car absent from his driveway, but that Harper’s car was parked in theirs.

She made her way very slowly inside, dreading the conversation she was going to be forced to have with her, and found her at the island in the kitchen.

Harper glanced up with a big smile but it faded a little when she saw her face “You didn’t hit another car in the parking lot, did you?” she teased.

Maddie shook her head and cleared her throat “I ran into Darren while I was at the store, i was just grabbing-“ she sighed, it didn’t really matter what she was grabbing “Nevermind, when he approached me, he acted like he just happened to be there at the same time, which was fine, until he started looking around, waiting, as if you were just going to walk up to us right there in the store, and when you didn’t he got really….” Maddie trailed off “Angry. He started asking where you were, how he could contact you. If I could give you a message-“

Harper’s face was unreadable, and Maddie wasn’t sure if she was mad or sad or even maybe a little bit scared. It had upset Maddie that she’d seen him and he made a huge scene like that, but it would upset her more if this upset Harper.

Sighing, Harper ran her hand through her hair, and sat down with her sister at the island shoulders slouched “He knows where I am,” she sighed, “He’s just too scared to come here.”

They shared a smile and Maddie said, “Dad.”

“Exactly. I can be safe here-” Maddie frowned hoping that Harper wasn’t alluding to what she thought she was “Hey,” she took her sister’s arm, “He never hurt me. Not in the way you think. And he didn’t hurt you, right?”

“I would have cut his hand right off if he had touched me.” Harper laughed and hugged Maddie to her.

”You still going out with your friends?”

Maddie nodded. She had lunch planned with friends mostly as a distraction and to give her some extra thinking time before she saw Seth later on. She would be prepared by then.

“Good, you go get ready, I’ll put the groceries away. Before you go, my new number is on the fridge, and if you need me and I’m not in here, I’ll be by the pool.”

Madison stood and squeezed her hand “I’m really glad you left him Harper. He never deserved you.”

She made her way through the house and up the steps to her room to ready herself for lunch with friends.

**********

Seth was sitting on his bed with his arms crossed staring at the opposite wall. His house was completely silent, which was unusual under normal circumstances but now with Svech living there it was even more. He’d watched Madison leave early, and then leave again and had been sitting in silence since then thinking about her.

He’d done a lot of reflection over the last few hours, having not slept barely at all, and he’d come to the conclusion that he and Madison just made sense. The writing had been on the wall for years and he’d been so wrapped up in hockey that he hadn't been playing close enough attention. If he had it wouldn’t have taken him 21 summers to realize that there’d always been something there just under the surface. It couldn’t be undone now, and it almost made him laugh at how dumb he was. Things he’d forgotten about were starting to come back to him. Most of their close friends knew that their friendship was strictly a friendship. But there had been some questions about them and their relationship over the years.

“So what’s with you and Madison Alexander?”

Seth looked up and frowned at Meghan, a girl he’d been kind of hanging out with for the last week or so. She was picking at a manicured fingernail and glanced up.

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged and crossed her arms “Well you guys seem close and she’s the most popular girl in school.” She said it with some bitterness. Madison was in fact the most popular girl in school and for good reason. She was gorgeous, friendly and approachable, and Seth could tell Meghan was jealous. Madison’s popularity wasn’t anything new to him though and he never really thought about her the way others did. But Meghan was obviously insecure and he could sort of understand why.

She was popular but not Madison popular and the one times they’d crossed paths Meghan had been standoffish. Maddie seemed to not notice, but Seth did and it was starting to make sense now.

“And that’s got what to do with anything?”

Meghan shrugged “Just wondering.”

“Mads is my oldest friend. We basically grew up together.”

“And you like her?”

Seth paused and turned to her “No….? Not like that anyways-“

“Then why’d you blow me off for her last night?”

He hadn’t.

Well sort of. He was supposed to hang out with Meghan the night before but he’d spent the afternoon with Maddie and Harper next door. So when they’d insisted he come with them to get food, he had cancelled plans with Meghan and went with Maddie and Harper instead, unbeknownst to them.

He liked Meghan but she could be a lot, and hanging out with Maddie and Harper was so easy.

“I just-“

“I think your hanging out with me and hooking up with her or the other one behind my back.”

“Woah woah hang on.” He held up a hand “First of all, I’m not hooking up with Madison and if I was I wouldn’t be hanging out with you, and second of all, Harper is 23 and used to babysit us. What is your problem? Maddie’s been nothing but nice since you met her.”

“I don’t want you hanging out with her.”

Seth’s mouth fell open “Are you kidding? Your telling me who I can and can’t hang out with? We’ve been talking for like a week.”

“Okay well let me make it really easy for you then. If you wanna continue to talk, and you wanna date me, you can’t be friends with her.” She crossed her arms “Pick one.”

Serbs mouth fell open and he scoffed “Okay. Her.”

The smile slipped from her face and her mouth opened “Wh-what did you say?”

“Her.”

Meghan started yelling and pointing and calling him names, which he wasn’t surprised about, and next thing he knew he was making his way through his backyard and into Madison’s.

She smiled and waved “Hey you okay?”

He sat down on the chair next to her “Fine why?”

She raised an eyebrow and he sighed “You know that girl? Meghan that I was hanging out with?”

“Mhm.” She curled a leg underneath her and pushed a strand of hair from her forehead.

“She-I blew her off to hang out with you guys last night-“

“Seth why would-“

“And she told me that if I wanna date her I can’t be friends with you anymore.”

Maddie looked alarmed and her lips parted “Wow. That escalated uh-fast. So what did you say?”

He gave her a long look “You’ve been a great friend so it sucks that we have to stop being friends this way -“ but he couldn’t even get the words out before he started laughing.

A smile broke out across her face “You douche.”

“I’m kidding. I told her that I didn’t think it was gonna work. I’m not going to give up my friends.”

“I get it but still. That’s not fair of her to ask in my opinion and for her to think we’re hooking up is crazy.”

He chuckled and leaned back arms crossed “Not really. She thought I was hooking up with Harper too.”

“WHAT.”

A splash from next door interrupted his thoughts and he pushed himself up into a kneeling position on his bed. From his room he could see clear into both the Alexander’s back yard, Maddie’s room and part of the kitchen. It had made for one hell of a vantage point for years of hide and seek.

But what surprised him even more was that the splash from the pool was not only Harper, but Svech as well. A bold move he thought to himself with a smile and a chuckle.

Oh he was so getting in on this.

**********

It was late afternoon when Maddie returned home, now noting that all the cars, except her dads cruiser, were accounted for in both driveways, and that Seth and Andrei were both out front.

Fuck.

She hadn’t talked to him all day, assuming he too was deep in thought about what had happened the night before or he was avoiding her. She’d also been a little worried that maybe he hadn’t been thinking about her at all. Maybe it was just another kiss with another girl and things would go back to normal. Either way, she wasn't about to reach out first. She didn’t even know what to say to him.

By the time she got out of the car Andrei had all but disappeared and Seth was making his way over looking at her apprehensively and smiled “Hi.”

She felt her knees get weak and sucked in a breath “Hi.”

She shut her car door and made her way to the front meeting him in the middle. He looked nervous, and she reached forward grabbing his hand and motioned towards her house with a smile “Come on.”

Harper wasn’t in the lower half of the house, and was presumably unpacking in her basement apartment. Seth followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom, which he’d been in before but that was before he’d kissed her in the backyard.

She shut the door behind her and turned to him, brushing past him and sitting on her bed. She patted the space next to her motioning for him to sit. He felt nervous and sweaty and he had no clue what was going on with him. He never got nervous to talk to girls but kissing her last night had rattled him.

Maddie was different. But thinking back he realized she’d always been different to him.

He cleared his throat “So about last night. Should we talk about it?” His arm brushed hers and sent goosebumps across it and despite the warm weather she gave a little shiver.

Maddie looked at her legs dangling off the bed and smiled “Probably..” she had her hands resting on her knees and tentatively he reached out to hold one, resting it there a second before he spoke.

“You know I really care about you right?”

She nodded, her thumb sweeping across the skin of his hand “Yes.”

“And I would never jeopardize our friendship if I didn’t think that maybe we were more than that?…Are we more than that?”

“I think we could be. If you want that is.” She smiled at him, hair spilling over her shoulder as she turned her head to the side. If she hadn’t been holding his hand he would have thought this was a dream. She’d smiled at him more times than he could count, but never like this. It made his stomach churn, and his heart start to pound.

“More than you know. So does that mean I can kiss you again?”

She smiled and nodded, meeting him halfway fingers still intertwined with his. He kissed her very slowly and sweetly, the hand that wasn’t holding hers came up to slide up her neck and rest on her cheek.

It did not last.

Years of feelings and sexual tension began to bubble over like water on a stove. She gave him a little tug and they moved over the bed, her underneath him as he slotted himself between her legs and a hand tangled in her hair. She lost track of what she was doing and let out a breath when he ground his pelvis into hers.

“Is your dad home?” He murmured against her mouth, breath coming out in gasps.

“No.” She pulled the back of his shirt up, tugging it over his head and tossing it down on the floor. She unbuttoned the tank top she was wearing as he sprung the zipper on her shorts and pulled them down her legs, leaning forward to kiss her again as she pulled at the waistband of his shorts. Her heart was beating so loud it was drowning out the hearing in her ears but not enough that they didn’t hear the front door slam from downstairs startling them apart.

“Girls! You home?” Her dad called. She heard his footsteps start to come up the steps and Seth jumped off of her, looking around in a panic. She jumped up nearly falling over as she yanked her shorts up and threw on his shirt, shoving him inside her closet just as her dad knocked on the door. She took a deep breath and opened it.

“Oh hey dad-what uhm. What’s up?” She was breathing heavy and leaned against the door.

He was frowning at her “Are you okay?”

“Yeah why wouldn’t I be okay?” She chuckled a little.

He looked past her into her room and then down at her clothes “Who’s shirt is that?”

“Oh it’s-mine, it’s mine. I found it in my closet.” She was a terrible liar and she could see her dad didn’t believe a word she said.

He nodded slowly eyebrows raised “Right. Is your sister home?”

“I think she’s in the basement.”

“Okay are you staying in for the rest of the day?”

She glanced at the closet “Mhm.”

“Great. I’m going to go talk to Harper and then get some sleep.”

“Okay sounds good. Get some rest big guy, you deserve it. Love you.” She called leaning out the doorway with a big smile.

He chuckled “Love you too Mads.”

She closed the door casually and locked it, letting out the breath she’d been holding and creeping across the floor to open the closet. Seth was crying with laughter inside the closet, hand over his mouth as he leaned on the wall and whispered “He definitely knew I was in here. He’s gonna kill me I-“

“He’s definitely going to kill you if he hears you in here now shh!” Madison shushed him with a giggle and made her way across the room to close her curtains, and flipped her tv on, leaving them in partial darkness. She pulled Seth’s shirt over her head and handed it to him, reaching for her own shirt on the end of the bed.

He sat on her bed and shrugged it back on “This looks better on you.” He watched her with admiration as she pulled the tank top back on over her shoulders and buttoned it, pushing her hair over her shoulder.

She smiled at him and turned the volume on the tv up enough that they could talk undetected and seated herself next to him, getting as close as she possibly could. Though this was the first time she’d ever laid next to him in bed in a romantic way, it felt so natural. Like they’d been doing this since forever, almost as if it was meant to be. He ran a hand up her arm to her shoulder, turning slightly so he could lean down to kiss her again, but she pulled away, instead running her lips over his jaw, tongue sliding across his neck.

She could feel him squirming around and smiled a little.

“Stop.” He pulled her mouth off his neck, holding her face in his hands.

“Stop what?”

“You know what. If you keep doing that I’m gonna start yelling. And then you know what’ll happen.”

“My dad finding you in my room half dressed? He’d probably shoot you.”

“Your dad loves me.” he ran a hand up the side of her neck.

“Not that much.” She sucked in a breath as he leaned down to kiss her again, hand brushing up under her shirt. As his fingers moved across her waist, goosebumps bloomed across her skin and she gave a shiver. She wanted to so bad, but her sisters room was directly under hers and her dad was just down the hall.

He pulled back to look at her, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek “You know we can’t do this right?” He said quietly with a small frown “Not with an audience. And I wanna do this right.”

She nodded and sighed “I know. Where though?” She added with a chuckle.

He laughed and ran his fingers through her hair “We’re in our 20s. It’s supposed to be easier to find places to hook up, not harder.”

She chuckled and sighed “I know. But I live with Elliot Stabler and the genius who’s spiraling in the basement and these walls are paper thin. How do you think Harper knows about all the bad shit we did growing up.”

He laughed and ran a finger across her collarbone “True. My house is out of the question too, between my parents and Svechy. Hey we-“

“Absolutely not.” She said putting a hand up.

“You don’t even-“

“The Tiguan is out of the question Seth.”

His mouth fell open and he deflated a little “Okay okay. Just a suggestion sheesh….but out of curiosity why not? Is there something wrong with my Tiguan?”

“That thing is one hopped curb short of being held together by duct tape. Too much movement and it’s falling apart.”

“You have a lot of confidence in my abilities.”

She rolled her eyes and gave the skin on his waist a squeeze “Guess that means you’ll have to really wow me.”

“Oh I’ll wow you.” He said leaning down to kiss her.

Hours later, she’d managed to sneak Seth out undetected and sent him back to his house with another quick kiss and a wave and she was now lying across her bed fighting the urge to kick and squeal because her dad was still asleep down the hall.

She felt her phone buzz and picked it up to see a message from Seth.

What are the odds you can sneak out later?

She smiled and glanced up through the curtains at his window Not so great. That’s the trouble living with a trained investigator.

Damn. Guess I’ll just have to visualize. So what’re you wearing?

Madison giggled and put a hand over her mouth eyes swiveling to the ceiling An oversized shirt and socks.

That’s it? Nothing else?

Like what?

Nothing underneath?

Maddie grinned evily Why would there be? I don’t wear underwear

Across the yard, in Seth’s room a phone slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. He let his head fall back and huffed.

She was killing him.

He’d kissed her on two occasions and she had him wrapped, but before he could have any more thoughts about Madison, or her underwear or anything, Svech burst through the door to his bedroom startling him.

“Do they not practice KNOCKING in Russia Jesus Christ.” He said grabbing the spot over his heart.

“What are you smiling about? And where you been all afternoon?” Andrei asked him sitting at the end of his bed.

“None of your business nosey. How goes the plan to get Harper to acknowledge your existence? Or are you still invisible?”

“Ha ha.” He said squinting at him “We’re not talking about me.”

Seth laughed and shrugged “I’m just having a good day is all.”

“And does that good day have a name? Madison maybe?”

Seth kicked at him “Never you mind about my good day. What’s the next step in your master scheme? You’ve tried stalking, complimenting-“

“I did not stalk her-“

“You.” Seth said sitting up pointing at him “Showed up at her job to go running when she didn’t want you there. I don’t know what they call that in Russia but here that’s stalking my guy.”

“And you.” Andre said pointing at him “Went with me so that makes you an accomplice. And I did it at the suggestion of your good day.”

“My good day never explicitly told you-“

“Aha! So she is your good day.” Andrei said slapping him on the shin and grinning.

Seth sputtered at him for a second before he broke out into a smile “Fuck off.”

“Joking, I’m joking. Is that what Harper meant by “Being good to my sister? Or whatever she said.”

“I think so. Maddie must have said something, I don’t know. Harper knows everything about everyone so maybe she just guessed. She’s smart.” He tapped his temple and Andrei rolled his eyes.

“So tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Don’t be an idiot okay?”

Seth was laughing and shrugged “It’s been nice. We gotta get you your own Alexander sister buddy.” He slapped him on the back and stood “Come on, can we go eat I’m starving. We can hatch a plan to make Harper fall in love with you before the summers over.”

Andrei watched as Seth stood and cleared his throat “So you think she might like me a little bit? Maybe?”

Seth grinned “ She will if I have anything to do with it.”

**************

Maddie made her way through the house looking for Harper. She couldn’t talk with her dad about it, and her friends had been too wrapped up with their stuff to pay Maddie and her summer dramas any mind. In fact it had been over a week since she’d even seen or spoken to them. While Harper gave great advice, she was also uniquely qualified to speak about her and Seth because she’d basically raised both of them. Harper wouldn’t steer her wrong.

But really Maddie just wanted to talk. As a teen, before Harper moved out, they’d spent many nights talking and giggling together until their dad finally had to enforce curfew because they were keeping him up at night.

But as Maddie opened the basement door to descend the steps, she heard Harper crying. She paused and stood at the top of the stairs for second before she backed up and shut the door quietly. She wouldn’t bother Harper with this. As she made her way through the kitchen she spotted Seth and Andrei making their way though the driveway to Seth’s car talking and laughing. Seth spotted her through the large kitchen window and smiled and waved at her, which she returned before she made to turn and ran smack into her dad.

“Jesus dad I-“

“You going out with them?” He nodded to the Jarvis’s driveway.

“Me? No im going to sketch a while. Why would I be going out with them?”

“Did you or did you not go golfing with them yesterday?”

She chuckled “How did-Yeah but what’s that have to do with anything?”

He crossed his arms and peered down at her “And which one was in your room when I came home?”

Maddie wanted to shrivel up and die right there on the hallway rug as she looked up at her dad. Though historically he wasn’t a yeller, she and Harper had never really tested his patience. Maddie had always been more trouble prone than her sister but having a boy into her bedroom closet was a new one. They’d always followed the house rules, and their dad was laid back for the most part.

But he didn’t seem angry. He stood staring at her eyebrows raised “Hmm?”

Maddie felt her face get red and cleared her throat, straightening up and looking her dad in the eye “Seth.”

Surprise registered across his face and his mouth opened “Really?”

She hoped that because her dad loved Seth and had watched him grow up that he wouldn’t be as upset about it if it had been Andrei, a guy who had just shown up a week ago. She cleared her throat, crossing her fingers behind her back and smiled hopefully at her dad “So how much trouble am I in?”

He shrugged “Why would you be in trouble?”

“Because I lied. I had a boy in my bedroom….i lied? Really nothing?”

He frowned but looked amused “Do you want to be in trouble?”

She shook her head “No.”

“Okay then. But don’t do it again.” He warned pointing a finger at her.

“Yessir.” She said with a salute and a stifled giggle as she moved past her dad and up the steps pulling out her phone to text Seth with a small smile.

M: My dad knows you were in my closet. He said he’s looking for you.

S: WHAT.

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lolathestoryteller · 22 hours

Text

mission (im)possible (April 30th prompt; Rational) @jilymicrofics

Lily shares a quick look with James, both of them now seated at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place, facing their son.

Their almost seventeen years old son.

“So…what’s up Snitch?” James asks, and as always, he seems perfectly able to keep his grin on, although Lily knows they both feel uneasy.

In fact, they’d both hardly been able to think of anything other than this moment for the entire day, ever since Harry’s asked them about a chat after dinner.

Now, he looks just as worried as them. Though, Lily would think that that’s hardly possible.

“I’ve got a plan.” he replies his Dad, clasping his hands together on the table. “And…you probably won’t like it.”

Lily purses her lips. She is already sure she won’t like it. “A plan?” she asks, raising her brow. “What for?”

It’s unnecessary really, to ask that, for it could only ever be one thing, yet Lily still hopes it wouldn’t be that.

Anything but that.

James stirs next to her, leaning onto his elbows. “You’re not dropping out, kid, are you?” he jokes, chuckling amusedly—

Until they both see the sinister look on Harry’s face.

James falls quiet at once, glancing over at her before he looks back at their son. “You’re not—“

“I am.” Harry‘s decisive voice cuts James off. “I’m sorry, but I have to.”

Lily can only stare back at him — at the boy, their boy, with way too many burdens, all unjustly placed upon his young shoulders. It’s painfully overwhelming, because she still remembers, like it was yesterday, how he used to be so much smaller. How he’d held onto her hand whilst going out, or asked for bedtime stories and good night cuddles.

Lily’s heart clenches. How fast did the years pass? Spiting any rational thought, she can’t help but wish she could have frozen time, just for a little while.

Because now, she can’t help but mourn for the carefree little boy Harry had been. How could she not? When her son looks so utterly worn and tired these days.

“You don’t have to,” James protests, and Lily can hear the frustration clear in his voice.

She places her hand upon his arm to calm him, whilst her eyes bore intently into Harry‘s. “Why do you think that?” she asks him calmly.

Harry looks away, towards the small kitchen window. “I…can’t tell you.”

James sighs, before he takes Harry‘s hand into his over the table. “Yes, you can. Common Snitch, you know we want to help.” he tries. “Tell us.”

Lily nods her head eagerly. “Your Dad’s right, love.” she adds, taking his other hand. “You can tell us.”

For a moment, when their son‘s green eyes flicker up to look at her and James, he seems so close to tell them — tell them everything that’s been worrying him so much. But it’s too fleeting a moment for Lily to even be sure she hadn’t just imagined it.

“I can’t.” he insists instead, pulling his hands away. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

Lily can see the truly apologetic look in his eyes, though that doesn’t help to ease her worries.

“I promised Dumbledore I wouldn’t.”

Dumbledore?

Lily’s eyes flutter closed for just a second, as she silently curses the man that, although he’d always been a good friend, had more than once now disappointed her.

Even in death, his mysterious plans still seem to be continued, with Harry as their main act — which goes against everything she and James have wanted for their boy.

James’s hand clutches into a fist on the table. “What?” he asks angrily. “Why would he want you to promise him that?”

He’s angry. Lily can tell that he’s so very short of raising his voice. She can understand him for it too, for she feels just as frustrated.

Harry on the other hand remains almost stoically calm. “Because he knew it wouldn’t help if I did,” he explains. “You can’t help me this time.”

And just like that, Lily’s resolve crumbles.

“Don’t say that.” she argues fiercely, her unnaturally pitched tone a clear reflection of her own despair.

“Mum, it’s fine—“ Harry sighs tiredly, as though he’d known this would happen. As though no matter what Lily says, he’d already made up his mind.

“It’s far from fine!” she retorts anyways, fighting best she can the sudden feeling of tears in her eyes. “I don’t care what Albus told you. We can help, and we will.”

Harry opens his mouth to reply, but Lily’s too deeply upset to let him. “You can’t just decide to do this on your own, Harry. I won’t let you. We’re in this together, we’ve always been—“

“We’ve never been in it together!” Harry interrupts, jumping to his feet.

Lily can’t help but flinch, her words dying on her tongue as she stares at him, utterly shocked by his uncharacteristic outburst. She can’t recall him ever reacting like this in her presence before.

“Harry,” James warns. “Don’t talk to your Mum like that.”

But Harry only shoots him a quick look, ignoring his warning, before his blazing eyes lock with her’s once more. “You can’t help me.” he insists. “And you should stop trying to convince yourselves otherwise.”

His words rip Lily’s heart into shreds. Not only because he’d said it with such unwavering conviction, but because deep down, Lily knows he’s right.

It hurts worse than any torture curse ever could.

“Harry!” James exclaims loudly, standing up as well.

“What?” he bites back, but where any other person might see anger, Lily now sees her son‘s very best attempt to steel himself.

It’s better they’d be angry with him, rather than heartbroken, before he’d leave. Suddenly, it all makes sense.

Slowly, she stands up, and without another word, walks around the table until she’s just an arm’s length away from her son. “You don’t have to go.” she says quietly, tears once again filling her eyes. “Please, sweetheart.”

Harry turns away from James to look at her with sad, but unwavering eyes. “Mum—“

“No, please,” Lily repeats quickly, taking hold of his arms. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. You can’t— Dumbledore could be wrong.” she implies, biting her lower lip. “I can’t let you go.”

It’s finally out. Lily can’t let go, not when there’s a chance that she’d never—

“I can’t let you risk your life.” she says fiercely, as she pulls him closer to her, until their foreheads almost touch.

“Like you did?” Harry asks knowingly.

Lily curses her son‘s wit in that moment. “It’s different,” she argues, although she knows that really, it isn’t different at all. “I wanted to protect you—“

“I know.” Harry smiles slightly. “And now, I can finally return the favour.”

#harry potter #james potter #lily potter #jily microfic #jily #harry potter and the deathly hallows #horcruxes #jily lives #angst #last day last prompt

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slippinmickeys · 2 days

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Prompt: more from the "Funfetti" universe? Is that even a thing? (Can it be a thing?)

William marched through the door of their house and angrily threw his backpack to the floor.

Scully, who had only just gotten home a few minutes before and hadn’t even taken off her shoes, whirled around.

“Whoa!” she said, setting down the mail she was sorting.

The doorway darkened behind William and Mulder made eye contact with her with a slight lift of his chin.

“Little trouble at school today,” he said, coming inside and shutting the door behind him.

William huffed his frustration at his father’s words and kicked off his shoes, then whipped his jacket into a chair.

“How about,” Scully said, with an eye toward mediation, “we have a snack and then sit down and talk about it?”

William clenched his jaw in a way that was purely Mulder and then said “Can I have cookies?”

Scully, knowing a hangry William would be far harder to deal with, just said “yes” rather than suggest an apple and a couple cheese sticks. She suspected William was hip to this tactic and couldn’t fault him for playing her.

Several bags of Famous Amos cookies and two full glasses of milk later, Scully had him sitting in a chair in the living room while she lowered herself onto the couch.

“Want to tell me about what happened?” she asked.

Mulder, who had followed them into the living room, said, “His teacher told me that-”

At this, William bristled. “I’ll tell her,” he said, and Mulder just held up both hands in surrender and backed out of the room.

William went on to detail how he’d been ganged up on at recess while out in the woods past the edge of the playground.

She and Mulder had picked the school because of the extensive grounds and the fact that many classes were held out of doors year round, using a teaching philosophy that was immersive and geared toward experiential learning. William was thriving there, but kids would be kids. And teachers couldn’t be everywhere at once.

“It’s not fair,” he grumbled in conclusion.

“What did they say?” she asked gently.

“They called me a freak.”

“You’re not a-”

“Mom!” he said, stopping her from finishing the platitude. “Come on.”

Scully sighed. She could hear Mulder tinkering around in the kitchen.

“Did something happen that precipitated this?”

William huffed a breath himself and fell back into the cushions of the chair.

“I don’t know,” he said, noncommittal. “I don’t think so.”

She tried not to worry. If something had…happened, they’d have gotten a call rather than a teacher pulling one of them aside at school pick-up.

“You can’t control what people think,” she finally said. “But you can control how you treat others. You’re still pretty new. Just be kind,” she went on. “They’ll come around.”

“They’re not going to come around, Mom,” he said. “They’re assholes.”

“William!”

“They are though.”

Some people were assholes. And there wasn’t much you could really do about it.

“William, what do Dad and I always say to you? When they go low, we go…”

“Lower!” came Mulder’s voice from the kitchen.

Good lord, Scully thought.

“We go high,” she said with a little more emphasis than she normally might have put into it.

Mulder wandered over to lean against the wall where the kitchen met the living room. There was a steaming mug in his hand.

“There’s something to be said for a well-timed knee to the groin,” he said.

William looked from Mulder to her earnestly. “I like Dad’s idea.”

“Dad’s idea is going to end up getting you suspended,” she said to her son, but swung her head to glare at Mulder. “Will, you know we have to be careful,” she added softly, turning back to the boy. She reached out to squeeze his knee.

“That’s not fair either,” he grumbled. At this, he stood, swiped his backpack off the floor and marched up the stairs. Scully could feel his frustration and waited for his bedroom door to slam, but he closed it quietly.

“That was less than helpful,” Scully said, turning to look at Mulder, who pushed off the wall and flopped down into the chair that William had just vacated. He handed over the mug in his hand. He’d made her a cup of tea.

“They’re picking on him because he’s different,” Mulder said.

“The less attention he pulls to himself, the better, Mulder, you know that.”

“My solution ensures that they’ll leave him alone.”

“Not necessarily,” Scully said.

“And what would you have him do?” Mulder asked. “Scully, you know his powers are harder for him to control when he’s upset. The more we let these kids pick on him, the more likely it is that he’s going to go off on them. In a way that’s a lot more disruptive than a trip to the principal’s office.”

Scully sighed and leaned back into the couch, rubbing a tired hand over her eyes.

“What if I talk to the other kids’ parents? Explain what’s happening?”

Mulder took a turn to sigh, himself. “Half of them won’t believe that little Joey could ever, and the other half are going to knock some heads together which will only make things worse for Will.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“What should we do?” Scully asked earnestly.

“I could show up to drop-off tomorrow strapped.”

“Carrying your Glock to a gun-free school zone is a wonderful idea. Why didn’t we think of that before?”

Scully’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on Mulder, but he remained silent with a thoughtful finger to his temple. When Scully blew a raspberry and put her feet up onto the coffee table, Mulder reached forward and pulled her boots off, digging his thumb into the aching arch of her nearest foot. She groaned in rapture.

“We could move again,” Mulder said as he worked his magic. “Or try homeschooling.”

“He’d be miserable,” Scully said sadly. “He likes this school. We like this school.”

It was their third school in five years and by far the best of the lot. Which it should be–they paid enough in tuition.

“We could talk to his teacher. Talk to the Head of School.”

Scully sighed. “I think we’ll have to. They’ll have to do something.”

Mulder switched feet. “We’ll figure it out.”

Scully closed her eyes and felt the day’s stresses evaporate with each deep swipe of Mulder’s thumb. They would figure it out. They always did.

“If that doesn’t work,” she finally said, eyes closed and head resting on the back of the couch. “I’ll pretend not to notice if you teach him a few moves you learned at Quanitco.”

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #au #prompt #asks #funfetti

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