Tumgik
#multific
multific · 9 months
Text
Mattheo finds You crying alone - Short
Tumblr media
Imagine crying alone in the Astronomy Tower, hoping to escape everyone but Mattheo finds you
Tumblr media
Lately, nothing seemed to be good.
You weren’t good, your grades weren’t good.
You didn’t receive any letters from your family. Your friends became distant.
You had no one to talk to, not even the paintings.
So, you went to the place you thought to be safe. Where no one could find you but you were wrong.
“What do you want, Riddle?” you said, trying to hide your tears.
“Why are you crying here alone in the dark?” he sounded angry as if he was ready to fight the person who made you sad.
But you didn’t reply. You felt like a failure. A misfit. You felt even more tears fell as you turned you back to him.
But he didn’t leave, instead he moved close to you and hugged you. You clung to him as if he was your last hope. Perhaps because in that moment he really was.
“It will be all good.” you heard him say with such a soft voice, you swore you never heard him be so kind and gentle. Slowly the pain in your chest slowly got better.
You never liked him, he never liked you but for some reason, in that moment you believed him.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
601 notes · View notes
phntmeii · 7 months
Text
✰ Phntmeii's Headcanon Masterlist ✰
Tumblr media
✰ You can request general ideas or characters you want to see more of or specific requests. (EX: 'Vinsome Sanji Fluff'. Or request 'Jon Snow x Wildling!Reader at the Wall headcanons'.)
✰ NSFW content will often be AFAB or GN for readers and often have a Dom!Character unless specified otherwise. (AMAB terms are unfamiliar to me so may not me fulfilled). Minors DNI. Will be blocked.
✰ I will only write for characters that I know to not provide too OOC content. Please refer to my current fixation list for fandoms that I'm apart of or the already listed fandoms I've done headcanons for!
✰ Headcanons/Requests may not be fulfilled in order! I will generally bounce around different lists based on my preference so it may take a bit to get around to certain characters!
✰ Regular Headcanon Lists generally range from 25-35 bullet points with sections that include characters' love languages. Compilation Headcanon Lists have a scenario listed with characters listed under a specific reaction.(Can be a simple sentence or two or a drabble for each character.)
Tumblr media
REQUESTS: Working on current submitted requests!
✰ Current Fixations: Across the Spider-Verse, COD:MWII, Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, Live Action One Piece, Horror Slashers, Mortal Kombat 1
NSFW Headcanons are highlighted in RED. WIP Headcanons are highlighted in PINK. This list will be updated as time goes on with more characters and links directly to the posts. Compilation Headcanons with several characters are highlighted in PURPLE.
ASOIAF:
Aegon II Targaryen Aemond Targaryen Jaime Lannister [Kingslayer] Jaime Lannister [Redemption] Margaery Tyrell x Snow!Reader Robb Stark Sandor Clegane Sandor Clegane x Snow!Reader (20% Done)
ATSV:
Hobie Brown Miguel O’Hara Miles Morales Miles Morales x SelfHarming!Reader Miles Morales [E42]
One Piece Live Action:
Luffy w/ Breeding Kink OPLA Characters and Physical Touch OPLA Characters Makeout Sessions OPLA Characters “Only One Bed” Trope OPLA Characters "Only One Bed" Trope PT. 2 (Coming Soon) OPLA Characters x disabled!Reader Possessive!OPLA Characters x shy!Reader (Coming Soon)
Random things OPLA Characters would Do Roronoa Zoro w/ Breeding Kink Sanji Cooking w/ Reader (Coming Soon) Sanji w/ Breeding Kink Sanji x Reader w/ ED (Coming Soon) Sanji x shy!Reader (Coming Soon) Jealous!Sanji x Pirate!GN!Reader Straw Hat Crew when You’re Sick Usopp w/ Breeding Kink
Slashers:
Angela Baker Brahms Heelshire Bo Sinclair NSFW Alphabet Corey Cunningham Hannibal Lecter (Coming Soon) RZ!Michael Myers (Coming Soon) RZ!Michael Myers x Russian!SO Sinclair Twins [Artist!Reader + Bimbo!Reader] Slashers and Hanahaki Disease Slashers Thoughts on Having Kids Slashers x depressed!Reader (Coming Soon) Slashers x Fanfic Reading SO Slashers x Naive!Sunshine!SO Slashers x Shy!SO Slashers x StrictLatina!SO Slashers x Petite!Strong!SO Thomas Hewitt
Tumblr media
HOTD Texts:
Aemond's Texts After Season 1 HOTD x SO!Reader: "Are You Cheating on Me?” HOTD x SO!Reader: "Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Team Green Incorrect Quotes
Tumblr media
⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
180 notes · View notes
emesesworlds · 3 months
Text
THERE'S A THIEF AMONG US
I think I speak for many people when I say, I DISPICE thieves.
I find it absolutely disgusting that there are people out there who steal.
Someone else worked hard for the things they have and there you are, a slimy disgusting bug, stealing it.
@yautjabeast this one is for you, sweetie.
Or should I say POPPYTANJI123 ?!
The poster (because you are not the writer, hun) of Yautja Imagines off of Tumblr
I noticed recently while I was reading Wattpad that a supposed number 1 book is a freaking REUPLOAD.
How absolutely disgusting.
51 chapters of pure stolen content.
51 chapters most of them NOT EVEN CREDITED.
But it doesn't matter, since I saw NONE of the authors gave permission.
THE BOOK SHOULD BE DELETED.
YOU reuploaded other people's works and then decided to take credit for it, take likes for it and views!
HOW DARE YOU.
In one of your Wattpad posts you even ADMIT that @mintymarabell has too many and you won't copy that! your words! COPY.
Tumblr media
"Authors note"
You have balls... some kind of an "author" you are when none posted is actually yours!
People like you are the reason many amazing authors have stopped posting or deleted their blogs!
So many amazing works LOST. Because of people LIKE YOU.
DON'T DO THIS.
And if you are a follower/reader of the above-mentioned person find the actual writers and give them the credit. NOT the thieves.
And now, to credit all the authors like you are supposed to.
@thefoldedbird
@mintymarabell
@partofmycharm
@multific
After words:
If you like a post, you are not showing your support by stealing it and republishing it! You are doing the opposite.
You are harming their page by taking views and feedback from them.
This will NEVER BE OKAY.
And we, as readers have to stand up and do something about this kind of people!
66 notes · View notes
intothemultifandom · 11 months
Text
Auld Lang Syne || Chapter One
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Han Gyeong-Su x Reader
Summary: Class 2-2's Vice President: VP.
In which the sensible Vice-President does their best to keep their little band of survivors alive.
Tags/Warnings: reader insert, character death, swearing, canon divergence, pre-relationship, angst + more
Tumblr media
Chapter One
Harabeoji lays on the hospital bed, unaware that the world continues without him.
You're his only visitor today. The room is cold, and his heart monitor fills the silence since you won't.
You don't know what to say, where to start.
Do you tell him that he needs to wake up? That since he fell sick, your step-grandmother used his coma as an opportunity to move everyone from your family home (sans yourself) and that her son, your half-uncle and proxy, is already making deals to have the line of succession passed to him instead?
Seoul is too far from Hyosan for you to visit him, to remind him to keep fighting and to keep vigil at his bedside, but they moved his treatment here anyway. Have already brought themselves a sky-line apartment right in the centre.
If you told him that they've left you alone, that they've left you behind, would that be enough to wake him up?
On your lap, you've brought a collection of Western comic books you've been reading to practise your English and since you need to fill the quiet somehow, you pick one out to read:
The Walking Dead, it says.
If Harabeoji finds your pick distasteful, he doesn't say.
(You wish he would).
Tumblr media
In a class-room setting, the Vice-President is meant to ensure that there is strong communication between the Class Reps and the President. When the President is absent, it is up to them to act in their stead. To lead the class through ever-changing situations with a clear head and mature outlook.
At times, you enjoy being responsible for such tasks. The position gives you a sense of purpose on days when you feel set adrift, makes you feel more present as you tend to your responsibilities and resolve minor conflicts. Those are the days you feel like an ordinary student, responsible only for the happenings of your class.
Other times however, it's a bitter reminder. Of Harabeoji who's counting on you to do good, of the dynasty you're set to inherit in his name and of the interests you've had to sacrifice in favour of activities more appealing for Universities overseas. Like being Vice-President.
Joon-Yeong insists you should have been Class President when the positions are first announced. It's unfair Nam-Ra gets the position because of her Mother's bribery when you're not only first in class but have given up more to commit to your school's night self-learning programme and your new role.
He says it with an air of indifference as he crosses his arms, but his eyes burn behind his glasses. You think it's because losing the Presidency to a friend will make the loss hurt a little less, and because it would excuse you from not hanging out with him and the others as much as you used to.
You don't point it out to him, though. Joon-Yeong has to come to his own conclusion for things to stick. Instead, you make a show of pointing your finger right at his nose as you order him–and the others watching–to call you "VP" henceforth.
It's not much, but if you show that you're not upset with the position you're given then your friends have no grounds to be angry on your behalf. You just hope that overtime, they'll come around about the Class President you do have in the meantime.
You did in the end, hadn't you?
Tumblr media
Speaking of your Class President, Nam-Ra always complains about the music playing on your headphones whenever she slides into her seat next to you, but it doesn't stop her from leaning over your textbook to assess your work.
You respond by turning your volume all the way up so the melody of Auld Lang Syne rattles your ears, mouth curling when she nods begrudgingly at your answers.
There isn't much she'll find to begin with, but it's routine; Nam-ra grumbles about your music in the morning as she looks over your work (way better than her rhythm techno beats, mind you), and you pretend this isn't her odd way of showing her friendship.
Silently, you offer her a piece of Poki from your half-opened bag, your own show of friendship, and she accepts the treat after a long, drawn out moment. Even though she doesn't say anything, you can see her face soften in the corner of your eye, and beyond the obvious, you're glad that she's not actually mad about your song choice for today.
"Wake me up when Ms. Park comes," you say after a moment, falling into your normal position as you cross your arms over your textbook, cushioning your head as you close your eyes. Nam-ra predictably grumbles at your command, but doesn't make a move to disturb you.
And drifting off, you hope that today is another calm day.
Tumblr media
It's not.
Hyeon-Ju's bloodied entrance is too shocking for the day to be anything but calm.
Even when she's whisked away by Ms. Park, Su-Hyeok and a few others to the infirmary, the shock gives way to unease and the feeling settles under your skin before you can do anything about it. It makes you itch to do something, anything.
Ms. Park instructs you all to resume studying but hearing what Hyeon-Ju said and seeing her state in general, more than half the class group together to brainstorm what happened between your classmate and Mr. Lee.
Nam-Ra seems to be the only one actually studying and while it looks like you are too, with all your pens laid out and your head tilted down to your book, you're actually listening in on the chatter around you. Pulling out your stationary was just a show of solidarity, if anything.
From what you gather, no one seems to say anything that corroborates your unease or the sense of foreboding that's taken root. Dae-Su's idea is perverse, Wu-Jin is quick to slap him on the back of his head, and I-Sak returns with a troubled face before the others can chime in.
At once, everyone turns their attention towards her, even Nam-Ra, but the weight of someone's stare grows heavy on the side of your face so you turn to other side of the room instead, catching Gyeong-Su's gaze just as he snaps his head back to I-Sak.
You're sure he knows you caught him staring at you because the tips of his ears are pink, and his posture is rigid as he faces the front. If you weren't feeling so agitated, your skin still itching, you'd smile at his embarrassment.
How long will he wait before he confesses?
"–What happened? Is Hyeon-Ju okay?" Wu-Jin chimes. He kneels next to I-Sak when he asks, and you begin tapping your finger on your desk when she speaks, pulled back to the matter at hand.
When you saw Hyeon-Ju last, the poor girl was delirious as she stumbled into the room, eyes fluttering as she tried to stay awake. Her face was bloodied, her hair was matted and when she collapsed by Ms. Parks' feet, she could could barely move.
However, the Hyeon-Ju I-Sak left in the infirmary sounds like a completely different person.
Having to be restrained as she thrashed on the bed. Hissing. Biting.
She scratched Ms. Kim, I-Sak says.
There's a cold sweat running down the back of your neck the more you imagine it, different scenarios flitting through your head in quick succession, but when I-Sak mentions some weird shot Mr. Lee injected her with, the agitation you feel reaches a crescendo.
You stop tapping, deciding that you need to see things yourself.
Nam-Ra glances at you from the corner of her eye, and you hope the look you flash her doesn't belie your nerves.
It turns out though that the Class President must consider you more of a friend than you realised (the kind of friend that you cover for), because her mouth twists like she knows you're up to something but doesn't push.
"I'll find a mop to clean up the mess," you lie, grabbing your bag.
"Hurry back," is Nam-Ra's cool reply.
Tumblr media
This is a multi-fic story. 
I intend to post this story on Wattpad and Ao3 shortly. Maybe even Quotev and FF.net, too. 
93 notes · View notes
Text
2 Widows, 1 Witch & 1 Boring Avenger- Chapter 1
Tumblr media
Back to masterlist
Tag List: @mxxnmocha​ @madamevirgo @fl0ating @natasha-danvers @lesbian-x-blackwidow @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @summergeezburr @natashasfirefly @sighsam @nowthisisliving27 @captain-josslett @hcartbyheart​ @stop-drop-and-drumroll​ @tribblemakingalicorn @aaron-despair​ @becka107​ @peggycarter-steverogers​ @rooskaya-yelena​ @cpt-bolter​ @natashadeservedmore @indiavance555 @thewidowsghost​
Hello Hello everyone! It’s been a while but i’ve got a new series for you all! This is set directly after Black Widow but Civil War never happened so the Avengers are all one big happy family and Yelena stays with Natasha! Let me know how you like it and if you want to be apart of my tag list!
Word Count- 1714
Y/n POV
“We are coming into land should be about 5 minutes, make sure there is no medical there we shall go to medical later. Thank you Steve.” I say quietly into the comms link on our quintet, Nat and I took ourselves off on a mission to take down to the Red Room and we have come back with an extra passenger. 
I feel a warm hand come to rest on my shoulder before I see a battered and worn out Natasha come to sit in the co pilot seat next to me, I give my love a small smile before grasping her hand. I can see how much stress this impromto mission has caused her, knowing the high amount guilt she is feeling all because of the young blonde girl who is asleep behind us is coursing through her veins.
“I’ve told Steve to keep medical away until we decide to go, so we should have some quiet to settle Yelena in” I speak to my partner, she smiles softly at me but she still has a far away look in those enchanting eyes. 
“I left her there, I let you and Clint take me away but I didn’t come back for her. I left my little sister” Natasha’s voice cracks slightly as she speaks, a small tear escapes her making me gently reach up to wipe the tear away making her gently lean into my touch.
“It’s not your fault Nat, that place is pure evil and you couldn’t be certain that she was dead. You had a chance to rescue yourself and you took it, anyone would’ve done the same thing and that’s why Yelena doesn’t blame you. You saved her when it mattered in the end.” Natasha gently nods at my words, smiling at me with a grateful look on her face, she leans her head on my shoulder as I begin to descend on to the compound. 
I land with no problems and I turn off the engines before I follow Nat to wake Yelena, when Natasha gently shook her awake the blonde flinched massively and her green eyes franticly looks around the surroundings before she lands on myself and her sister. You can see her whole body un tense when she finally regains her bearings. 
“We’ve just arrived, come on follow Nat I’ve got your bag” I softly say earning a nod from the blonde, walking behind the pair with the bags slung across my body. Yelena tucking herself into Natasha’s side as we walk into the big compound, surprised to see no one waiting for us since we never told them to stay away. 
“Ok so here we are, this is mine and Nat’s room but you can stay in here until you feel comfortable enough to use your own room, I’m going to leave you two to it and sleep in another room. We will go to medical tomorrow after we all get some much needed sleep” I explain to Yelena as I see Natasha has already started to take off her dirty, blooded suit, I go to move out out of the door but I am stopped by a small voice with a thick Russian accent. 
“Stay, Talia can’t seem to move without groaning so I’d feel safer having someone else here too. Please stay” shocked I turn to look at a timid looking Yelena who is avoiding eye contact with me and an equally shocked Natasha with a hint of a smile on that face, I shake myself out of my shock as I put on a measuring smile walking towards to the bed and start undressing myself.
“God my bloody back is killing me, who’s idea was it to blow us up in the sky?” I ask teasingly towards my girlfriend, she shakes her head and punches me in the arm hard making Yelena snicker at us both.
“Get into bed L/n or so help me god” Natasha trails off as she glares at me, I throw my hands up in mock surrender before I get into the bed with Yelena stuffed in-between us. Friday turns the lights off and I pass out straight away, feeling safe for the first time in the past week now we are back home.
I am awoken by a sharp kick to my injured side making me let out a groan of discomfort, the kick intensives making my eyes snap open turning around to see Natasha trying to wake her sister from a rather distressing nightmare. 
“Please don’t hurt me, I’m sorry! I want Tasha!” Yelena pleads in her dream, I look at Nat to see tears filling her eyes as she looks helpless so I take charge and I pick up the blonde girl and I cradle her close to my chest.
“You are in the Avengers compound with myself and Nat, you are safe Yelena. Wake up and come back to us” I chant out loudly to the sobbing blonde in my arms, Yelena clings to my body as I rock her back and forth. 
Natasha has pulled herself together and is now sat next to me running her fingers through the blonde hair, not long after her sobs stop and Yelena’s eyes fly open. I feel Yelena tense once she notices that I am the one holding her so I gently pass her over to Natasha, who quickly pulls her to her chest pressing kisses to the forehead of her little sister.
“It’s ok sestra, you are safe with me now” Natasha coos out to Yelena as she rocks back and forth, I quietly leave the room and go to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for Yelena. As I begin to fill up a glass a small sound in the kitchen alerts me to a new presence, instantly smiling when I see the red glow in darkness. Wanda.
“Hey Wands, I was expecting you to meet us when we got off the jet” I say kindly to the strawberry blonde witch in front of me, she shrugs with a smile as she steps up to me. 
“Steve told us about what has happened, he said it would best for us to give you all space this evening” She softly says as she grabs her own glass of water, I raise my brow at her in jest.
“Since when do you listen to Steve witchy?” I tease her, Wanda like Yelena is a troubled 24 year old who has been through more shit than anyone should ever have to go through. I think that��s why myself and Natasha took her under our wing, why we became a small family inside this bigger family.
“Is she ok? I know how daunting it can be coming into a safe space after a world of shit” Wanda softly asks me, I smile sadly at her as I bring her in for a hug. That was one the big reasons why we all love Wanda, no matter how bad people have treated her she will always have such a giant heart.
“She’s ok, she’s got a lot to deal with but with us with her she’ll get through it. Just like you did sweetheart” she smiles softly at me when I say that and with a kiss to the crown of her head I bid farewell, taking the glass of water back into mine and Tasha’s room.
Yelena has stopped crying and instead is laid in Natasha’s arms taking deep breaths to calm down, I quietly walk over to the pair and I kneel down in front of the pair handing out the glass of water to the young blonde. With shaking hands she takes the glass and groans in relief as the cold water soothes her sore throat, Natasha gives me a thankful smile before returning her attention back to her sister.
“I’m sorry Y/n, I didn’t mean to kick out at you.” Yelena softly whispers out into the room, I give her a soft smile before shaking my head. 
“No you have nothing to be sorry for, besides Nat here once broke my jaw during a nightmare. Isn’t that right babe?” I say to the redhead, who nods through a wince at the horrible memory. 
“Yeah she’s right, I was dreaming about a particularly bad day in the Red Room. She held me in her arms but I panicked, not noticing that it was her I lashed out and broke her jaw. Didn’t stop her from comforting me though, she refused to let go of me until she knew I was 100% out of my dream. She won’t let a little kick in the side piss her off Yel” Natasha tells her sister as she leans into my side, I press a kiss to the crown of her head and I cheer internally when I see a gentle smile fall upon the blonde’s face.
“See! You can break my jaw and I wouldn’t care… just please try not to do that” I joke happy to hear a small chuckle break out of Yelena and of course Natasha. 
I groan in pain slightly as I rise from my crouching position, my back is killing me from diving through the sky after Yelena. I had caught it on some flying debris and I’m pretty sure my back is still bleeding a bit from it, something that I had tried to cover from my girlfriend. At the sound of my groan Natasha quickly rolls up my shirt and letting out a soft tut as she sees the blooded bandage.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was still bleeding?” Natasha softly chastises me, I hear Yelena laugh slightly at the scene playing out in front of her but I could see the guilt in her eyes as she knew my injury came from saving her.
“Ahh it’s alright, just a scratch.” I say turning to look at my worried love, I give a look indicating to let it go for Yelena’s sake and thankfully she does just that. 
She leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips before moving back into bed with Yelena. I get into bed with them and with a kiss goodnight from Tasha we all fall back asleep, this time with no more rude awakenings.
164 notes · View notes
ineverwrite · 1 year
Text
All Good Things- Chapter 3
Long time no see! I don’t know if anybody is still here, that’s okay, I know its been over a year. I finally felt like writing a little more and continue this fic- enjoy? Feedback is always appreciated! 
------ All Good Things Chapter 3 ------
Word Count: 818
The revelation of her crush on the oldest Weasley twin weighed heavy on Y/N’s mind. The thought of her friends, all of her friends, finding out was beyond horrifying. As was the visualization of him possibly rejecting her- she couldn’t bare it. So, she didn’t. From that moment on she swore it would never get in the way of their friendships and would never act on her crush… unprompted at least.    
  Fortunately for her, school kept the girl so busy that her crush could hardly stand in the way of her responsibilities. Fourth year meant preparing for O.W.L.S next year, and their teachers were unrelenting. Many nights she stayed in the library, not only doing her work but also helping Neville with his schoolwork. Magic, it seemed, was not coming easy to the boy and it was beyond devasting for the poor lad. She called him a late bloomer, he called himself a squib. Their arguments could go back and forth for hours. Eventually she discovered that Neville’s round face would light up talking about Herbology. He could go on for hours about the different plants and their functions, and sometimes after a lesson would retell it. Y/N let him, even though she had heard this lecture two years before, as it was interesting- and he was so excited.
           Of course- such heartwarming or pleasant topics came to a screeching halt at Halloween. The Chamber of Secrets had been opened, and member of the castle were attacked. Their safety felt like it had been ripped away, the very real threat of one of their friends being killed weighed heavy. Fred and George tried, as they always do, to make things lighter with their comedic commentary. It didn’t work all the time. Poor Harry Potter was even further outcasted than before, and Y/N didn’t know how students could even think that a 12 year old boy would want to murder people. Neville seemed to believe Harry anyway, so that was good enough for Y/N.
           One night, with the dormitories emptying out due to the late hour, the usual group of fourth years laid around. Not saying much, thinking too hard. They all had contemplated the suspects of who could be the heir of Slytherin, nobody daring to mention Harry’s name, and several offering Draco Malfoy’s instead.
           “He’s got to be it. Little creep called Hermione a mudblood,” George stated, anger crossing his features making his face almost the color of his fiery hair. Undoubtedly remembering the fight that broke out between him and Malfoy.
           “Plus his family, the whole lot was in Slytherin,” Fred added, twirling his wand between long fingers.
           Y/N straighten from her spot on the floor, angling herself to face the twins better as they were sitting on one of the couches in the common room.
           “Good points- But he is only a second year, how could HE be the one to figure out how to open the bloody thing after all this time, and don’t you think he’s been a little bold about the whole thing? It’s too obvious.” Y/N offered an open question to the group.
Angelina nodded in agreement, her chin resting on her folded hands. Alicia looked away thoughtfully and yawned. With a sigh Fred stretched his arms out wide and said,
           “I think you’re right Y/N.”  
           The affirmation from him made Y/N glow on the inside, even as morbid as the subject was. A sudden thud broke the comfortable quiet of the group, Alicia had fallen asleep and slipped from her upright position against the sofa and onto the stone floor. A booming laugh erupted from the fourth years, with Alicia joining in when she realized what happened. They quickly went to their respective beds for the night. The warm and familiar feeling was too good to last.
           The night that Ginny Weasley was taken into the Chamber of Secrets was one of the most frightening nights of the young wizards lives. The fourth year Gryffindor girls huddled together in the common room, crying quietly as they thought about the fate of the youngest Weasley, for their best friends losing their sister, and fear what was to happen next. It didn’t take long for anybody to notice that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were nowhere to be found, chaos ensued. Neville shakily found his way next to Y/N, crying for his friends and shaking like a leaf. It was a long night- but, emerging out of the depths of the school the following morning came the best whirlwind of news. Ginny, Harry, Ron and Professor Lockhart all were safe and sound, having escaped the Chamber. Rumors abounded, how they escaped, the battle that was fought, others dismissing it completely. Y/N was just happy to have the younger Gryffindor’s back, to see the relief on the Weasley’s faces, and hope for a better year to come… it could hardly be worse- right?
17 notes · View notes
brokebonewritings · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Hello all of my loves! I've decided that since I want to continue to better myself at writing fics I would create a Masterlist post so I can keep it organized for you. Please enjoy! ♡
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Steven Grant
Knowing How to Romance
♡ Steven Grant never could figure out how to flirt with the ladies of each season. That is until you become the Diamond of the Season. (18+, Smut and Fluff)
Part 1 Part 2
Close Enough to Kiss
♡ You and Steven spend a nice evening at home, this includes your first kiss. (Fluff, Imagine)
Marc Spector
When the World Caves In
♡ You are sent on a special mission to become an avatar for a Goddess in need. The boys go on a mission to bring you back home to them. (18+, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)
Goodnight Starlight
♡ You spy on Marc putting your little one to sleep for the night. Both of you get a little carried away when you get back to your own bedroom.
Country Drives (Fluff, Short Fic)
Jake Lockley
Professor?
♡ Office hours were for questions, and going over materials. Maybe too many questions can lead to an assignment not in the syllabus. (18+, Smut)
Headcannons
In the Kitchen (18+ Minors DNI)
Little Sister (Ask Request)
Tumblr media
Matt Murdock
Bless me, Father
♡ Seeking a priest for guidance. You just weren't expecting this priest to be an ex, and a vigilante. (18+ Smut, Violence, Angst)
15 Ways to Love Matt Murdock (Songfic Series)
Ask Box Requests
Sincerely, Anxiety. (Fluff)
Jupiter, Bringer of Jollity (Fluff)
♡ You and Matt go to a candlelight concert for your first date. You learn something new about music, and he leaves you with a new sense of love.
Tumblr media
Peter Parker
Faltering
♡ You meet Peter Parker in your GED class. Who knew that the blip would allow two people to meet and become friends? Though, you didn’t remember a Peter Parker at Midtown High.
Tumblr media
Ask Box Requests
God Only Knows (Eddie Munson)
♡ Ask request by Kaidalorian; Eddie caught you sneaking back into your trailer, and offers a warm place to stay for the night. (18+, Smut, some Fluff)
Headcannons
Hair Ties (18+, Minors DNI)
Tumblr media
dividers (used in most fics) : @cafekitsune
66 notes · View notes
freckleslikestars · 2 years
Text
Battle of the Sexes
Prologue
DAY ONE
The Experiment Begins
10606 words, Read here on AO3
Other than Scully drawing his blood and later presenting him with a clean bill of health, they had both refrained from discussing the plan for the week leading up to it. Skinner had called them up with confusion on the Monday morning, asking why, dear god, they both submitted PTO requests at the same time in the middle of the night. They did a good job, with hangovers raging, to bluff their way through comments about needing some space away from one another and the work, both having gotten too wound up as of late with one another. Whether he believed it or not, he granted it, and they skulked back down to the basement with only a subtle congratulatory bump to the hip as they entered the elevator.
Midday Friday, Scully had given him a sheet of printer paper with the address and check-in details for the hotel, as well as her neat handwriting listing all the things they had agreed he would bring. She had then bowed out of the office, telling him breezily that she was taking the afternoon to prepare and that she suggested he did the same.
He gave it half an hour more in the office, memorising the paperwork she had given him, before tucking it in his pocket and making his way home.
To say he was anxious was an understatement. He knew that she was just doing this out of curiosity and that it wasn’t because she harboured deep-seated feelings for him as he did for her, but he was still shopping for condoms in anticipation of spending a week in a hotel room of much higher standards than their usual with the love of his life. He had every right to be a little nervous.
Truth be told, he hadn’t really had much of a stake in the argument, had only debated it because he loved how riled up Scully had gotten, how passionately she had parried with him, and because it prolonged the amount of time she spent sat on his couch next to him, beer in hand and little feet tucked up next to his.
And part of him knew it was wrong. Of course, he did. He was going in under false pretences; felt almost like he was smuggling his feelings in past her walls and defences, across the drawbridge she had lowered for him (there was a joke about wooden horses and condom brands in there somewhere, though his nerves had him too on edge to really contemplate it.) But there was also a part of him that had been dreaming of spending a week with a very naked Scully in a very nice bed for the past five years, and hell, considering this was probably the only chance he’d ever get at that, he wasn’t going to turn it down any time soon.
Still, it had been a while since he had been with a woman, and he was going to have to bring his A-game if he was going to defend the prowess of men everywhere to her.
 ~~~
After emptying her underwear drawer onto her bed, Dana Scully decided she had nothing to wear. No, that wasn’t true. She had plenty to wear. She had plenty of sensible bras and cotton panties. But there was nothing enticing. Nothing that she could see making Mulder salivate.
Well, there wasn’t nothing...there was the matching black lace set she had bought a few months back for when they went to the team-building seminar in Florida, but she had retired that set after one night, unable to look at them without feeling the shame of him running off into the forest from her.
At least this time he had nowhere to run.
But no, she had nothing to wear. And so shopping was necessary.
It did cross her mind, as she fingered racks of lace and mesh and silk, that this was perhaps cheating just a little, that she was using attributes that were not truly her own to weaken him. But then, there had never been any discussion on whether or not lingerie was allowed, and in any case, she was really just framing her own attributes. The right frame, after all, truly made the picture, but it was the artist’s work that was being showcased.
There was a niggling thought, at the back of her mind, that perhaps engaging in such an investigation with her partner was not such a bright idea considering the unrequited feelings she harboured for him, that the heartache of letting him go was going to destroy her at the end of the week. But she also had to consider that this was possibly the only chance she’d ever get to experience him like this, and if she couldn’t have him for always, then a week was better than nothing.
She’d had her legs, armpits and bikini line waxed on Wednesday and with her bags packed, hair washed and dried, and final preparations done by seven-thirty, she was left nervously twiddling her thumbs and trying to figure out a plan for the upcoming week to tire her brain out enough to sleep. It was going to be a long night.
 ~~~
She arrived first, overprepared physically, underprepared emotionally, and radiating an aura of nervous energy that crackled around her like static. She checked in, mentioned that her husband would be coming by for a second room key when he arrived, and made her way up to their room.
It was nice. Nicer than their usual standard, at least. Nice bed, crisp sheets. Spacious. Good bath. Decent sized shower. Working aircon. Even if the week was a bust and everything went wrong, at least they’d have a comfortable stay. There was a small anteroom at the entrance, just enough for a pair of armchairs and a small loveseat, but she had made sure they had it, so there was at least the option of getting some space from one another should they need it.
Having examined each inch of the room, she started unpacking. Atop the dresser, she lined up three boxes of granola bars and two hands of bananas, a pack of dry-erase pens and a small aluminium whiteboard she’d snuck out of the lab that had barely fit in her suitcase. Across the top she wrote the heading orgasms given and split it into two columns, writing their initials at the top of each one, ready for the tally to start. She was a scientist, after all, and they were doing this for accurate results. She clicked the pen cap back on with a snap and lay it neatly in front of the results board before biting her lip and looking around.
Upon each bedside table, she arranged a bottle of water-based lube, a stick of roll-on deodorant in her preferred brand, a Chapstick and a packet of wet wipes. The same bouquet of supplies was then set up on the small coffee table between the armchairs in the anteroom and on the counter in the bathroom. Perhaps it was overkill, but she wanted to be prepared, and every minute she focused on setting everything up for the maximum efficiency of the experiment was another minute she wasn’t focused on what a big mistake this was all going to be.
Her personal items were next to be unpacked. Shampoo and shower gel in the caddy, toothbrush – and a spare for Mulder, who was notoriously bad at needing to make a stop on their travels to get one as he nearly always forgot his own - toothpaste, mouthwash and floss by the sink. A jar of bath salts sat on the rim of the tub, next to a bottle of silicone lube, just in case. Underwear in one of the top two smaller drawers of the dresser.
She hadn’t really known what to pack in terms of clothes. They weren’t planning on going anywhere, didn’t really have any plans other than to not leave the hotel room. So she’d gone with a bit of everything. A cardigan, a couple of pairs of comfortable slacks, a few t-shirts, a sundress and a pair of jeans. And then the beige skirt and sweater combo she had put on that morning. She wasn’t exactly imagining they’d be needing a lot of clothes for what they had planned.
She’d hesitated in her bedroom, with her suitcase open on the bed and her hand hovering over the drawer of her silk pyjamas. Had debated the appropriateness of them for their week. On the one hand, they were there for sex and only sex and pyjamas were just one more obstacle between them. On the other hand, she wanted them both to sleep comfortably. She decided, eventually, that having fucked her he probably wouldn’t be overly bothered with what she slept in, and that if in doubt she could always borrow some of his clothes.
That decision, however, was starting to haunt her. What if she was too presumptuous? What if it was too suggestive of her? What if he didn’t feel comfortable sleeping next to her when she was in nothing, or next to nothing?
It was as she was standing in front of the gilt mirror hanging over the dresser having these concerns that there was a familiar knock on the door, followed by the beep of a key-card in the door and Mulder poking his head around, ‘only me.’
‘Hi.’
‘Hey. So...nice place, good choice,’ he, like her, had a suitcase and a duffle bag. He looked good. Casual. God, she loved him casual. Hair still a little damp and spikey from a shower, all heather grey and jeans that cupped him just right. Goldilocks considering the perfect meal. She could devour him in an instant looking like that. And, by the beautifully sculpted bulge in his jeans, and the hungry eyes that raked over her, he looked like he might devour her too. But then their eyes met, each knowing they’d been appraising their victim, and he cleared his throat and averted his gaze.
‘Thanks,’ she smiled awkwardly, not sure what to do with her hands or her posture as she shifted from foot to foot. ‘Uh, I’m done unpacking if you want to...I can...head out for a bit, let you settle in?’
‘No,’ he said far too quickly, his cheeks warming as he shook his head, ‘no, no. Stay. You can show me where you think everything should go.’
She nodded, ushered him further into the suite, taking one of his bags for him and placing it on the luggage stand, ‘so, uh, I’ve put food on the cabinet here. Minibar’s here,’ she opened the cupboard door of the dresser, showing him the small refrigerator, ‘I was thinking water and Gatorade can go in here, best to keep them cool, and have a few bottles out at all times.’
He nodded, unzipped the duffle and pulled out two six-packs of water, a six-pack of Gatorade, and a bottle of white, ‘I figured we might want to relax a little. Y’know, this is gonna be a lot of hard work.’
She sniggered at him, shook her head, took the wine from his grasp, raised her eyebrows and nodded in approval, ‘not bad.’
‘I know what you like, Scully.’
‘Hmm, we’ll see.’
A tour of the room, odds and ends from his bags being arranged to both of their approvals. She managed to find a pair of martini glasses at the back of the minifridge and set them on the bedside tables, emptying a box of condoms into each of them and placing one by the bedside, before doing the same with the two coffee mugs that were provided for them on the coffee table and the counter in the bathroom.
‘I got some funny looks, buying four boxes,’ he said as he put his clothes in the drawers she’d left open for him whilst she was going through the bottles of moisturiser and deodorant he’d bought, taking off the seals.
‘I got funny looks buying the five bottles of lube. Although, more pervy than funny.’
‘You should have said, I’d have bought it for you.’
She shrugged, shook her head, ‘I’m used to it, and I’m not going to shy away.’
‘Of course not,’ he nodded, caught her eye, ‘I just wish you didn’t have to deal with it.’ He cleared his throat, and pulled out one final bottle from his suitcase before moving it to sit atop Scully’s empty bags, ‘I got some massage oil, too. Sweet almond. Just in case we get any sore hamstrings or anything.’
‘Good idea,’ she bit her bottom lip, looked around the now-prepared room. ‘I think perhaps we should talk about what we’re comfortable with before we jump right in.’ He nodded, moved over to take a seat on the bed, patting it for her to join him. She sat opposite, folding her legs underneath her. ‘No anal. For either of us.’
He choked at her sudden statement, coughing and nodding, ‘okay, got it.’
‘No marks that can’t be hidden with a blouse.’
The possessive, territorial part of Mulder resisted that, but agreed anyway, ‘we should have a safe word, too. Just in case either of us needs to stop.’
‘Anything spring to mind?’
‘How about flukeman? That seems like the ideal way to cool the heat, imagining that big old wormy guy?’
She snorted but nodded, ‘sure. Works for me. How do you feel about being woken with sex?’
‘Scully, I don’t think there is a man alive who doesn’t want to be woken with sex.’
‘Okay, so that leads to the question – is there any time the experiment is not happening?’
He considered for a moment, ‘unless we’ve called a time out for whatever reason, so long as at least one of us is awake the experiment is in progress if you’re comfortable with that. It doesn’t mean we have to be...engaging, it just means we can initiate whenever.’
‘That makes sense,’ she nodded, ‘any other orders of business?’
‘We keep an open exchange of conversation. This is an experiment, not a bet. We talk and discuss how things feel, what works and what doesn’t.’
‘Agreed,’ she stood and cleared her throat, held her hand out for him to shake, ‘I believe, Mulder, that we can commence with the experiment.’
Hands shaken, they stood opposite one another, tension rippling. ‘So, uh...where do we start.’
‘Well, since we’re not actually trying to seduce one another, a candlelit dinner isn’t exactly required to set the mood, so...’ she cleared her throat, cast her gaze away from him.
‘Should have bought a pack of cards, could have played strip poker.’
‘Or...we just strip, sans poker?’
He swallowed thickly, ‘right down to it, huh? Uh, sure.’
‘Unless you’re uncomfortable with that?’
‘Me uncomfortable? No. You?’
‘Nope. Nervous?’
‘No, God, no,’ again, a statement that rushed out of his mouth far too fast, belying his lie.
‘Yeah, me neither,’ the slight hitch of her voice betrayed her and he smiled shyly at her. They remained standing, fully dressed, before one another, hands occasionally tugging at clothing as their gazes darted around, neither wanting to be the first to disrobe.
‘Wine,’ Mulder choked out, lurching across to the minibar and pulling out the barely-chilled bottle he bought, ‘why don’t we start with wine?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, good idea,’ she smiled, wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt whilst his back was turned. Her heart sank at the thought that drifted through her mind and she grimaced just as he managed to find a corkscrew, ‘wait.’
‘You okay?’ he turned to her.
‘Yeah, I just... Wine will screw with the results. We can maybe investigate the effects of alcohol later in the week, but I think we should create a baseline, first. For the sake of science.’
‘Right. Of course,’ he nodded, ‘for science.’
‘That’s what this is all about, after all. Science,’ there was a sadness to that thought, the idea that the only reason she was getting to sleep with him was for science.
‘I...I think we should just get it over with. Just...on three, we take off our clothes. Maybe that will make this a little easier.’
‘That’s probably best. Yeah,’ he inhaled deeply, locking eyes with her as he stepped out of his shoes and she followed his lead, ‘one.’
‘Two,’ they each undid their zippers, harsh sounds in the hush that had fallen over the room.
As they both whispered three, she peeled her sweater over her head and he shucked off his jeans, stepping out of them when they pooled at his feet. Her skirt and his t-shirt were pulled off, and they were each left in just their underwear. Boxer briefs for him which didn’t leave much to the imagination, and one of the sets of bra and panties she bought for the week that left even less to imagine on her. Her eyes flicked down to the defined shape of his cock in his boxers, straining against the cotton. She might have smirked at how easy it was to get him hard, made a comment about wearing Chantilly more often, if only she wasn’t plagued with the exact same arousal.
‘Jesus, Scully, you’re...’ he took a deep breath, ‘fuck. I’ve spent all week trying to prepare to be a little suaver right now, but...’ she wasn’t even naked and he was struggling to keep his thoughts straight. He didn’t know where to look; the soft swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the glint of gold at her belly button.
She bit her bottom lip, blushed, ‘I guess I’ve spent a lot of this week trying to figure out what I’m going to say right now,’ to tell the truth, it had been more than a week that she’d been thinking about what she’d say right now. Perhaps not in this exact situation, but in some combination of her in lace, him in briefs and a large bed not two feet from them.
‘Come up with anything?’
‘No,’ she chuckled, bashfully tilting her head down.
‘You’re beautiful when you’re nervous. Do you know that?’
‘You don’t have to do that, Mulder. It’s a foregone conclusion what’s about to happen. You don’t need to-‘
‘I’m not trying to flatter you or anything. I’m just making an observation.’ Her cheeks and chest flushed a warm scarlet, and she tried to hide a smile in her shoulder. ‘So...’
‘So...’
‘How exactly are we going to do this? I mean...do we just dive in, or...?’
‘Well, I guess foreplay is probably where we should start. Perhaps we should have made an itinerary.’
‘Nah, I think there are some variables that you can’t control. Perhaps we just see what comes naturally. For example, right now I really want to touch you, Scully. Can I?’
‘I...yes,’ she nodded, running her tongue over her lips before taking a step closer to him, just as he stepped towards her, meeting in the middle like always.
‘Hi,’ he whispered softly, running his forefinger along her shoulder, down the strap of her bra.
‘Hi,’ she swallowed thickly as his finger traced the top of her breast, along the line of her bra cup, gasping when he brushed his finger lightly up and down the cleft between her breasts. She reached a hand out, combed them through the dark whorls of chestnut hair that adorned his torso, followed them as they lead down to the waistband of his boxers.
‘I wasn’t sure of your preference for hair, so I trimmed, but didn’t shave. I can do, if you want, I have a razor with me, and I don’t mind either way, so if you’re not comfortable with it you can-‘ he was rambling, suddenly nervous with her touch on his body, and she slowly raised her gaze to his.
‘Mulder?’
‘Hm?’ he squeaked as her fingers made a glancing pass at his erection, barely a feather-light touch through the cotton of his underwear.
She leaned forward, darting her tongue out to lick a path up the middle of his chest before moving to graze her teeth across a nipple, ‘shut up.’
He nodded, holding their eye contact, as his hand moved to cup a breast through the filmy lace that covered them. God, she fit perfectly in his hand; a firm, full handful that felt so natural, like his hand had been moulded precisely to hold them. Her nipples were pebbled below the fabric, a combination of the gentle stimulation of the lace and the chill of the aircon. And, just perhaps, the arousal she felt at their proximity. He brought his other hand up to join in, began gently squeezing and massaging, feeling out the size and weight, the softness of her skin and the hardness of the little buds, becoming acquainted with them. She took a step back slightly, maintaining his contact whilst giving him more room for his exploration, and she reached behind herself to unclasp her bra, sighing softly, blissfully, when it was released and he tugged it down her shoulders, watched as it slipped from her arms and to the floor between them.
Framed in pink lace they were beautiful but bare and natural they were a work of art, perhaps even a work of her God. Perhaps this week might prove the existence of Him more than anything had before. He took her shoulders as he turned and backed himself down to the bed so she was standing before him between his knees, her tits just about mouth height. And what could he do, when they were presented so perfectly to him, but to take one in, lave and lavish it with attention whilst his hand fondled the other, drawing a gasp and a moan from her as he sucked, nipped.
One of her hands joined his on her breast, guiding him just how she liked it, just how hard to pinch and squeeze as she meshed her fingers with his, and her other hand moved to rake and tug at his hair, nails scraping at his scalp and digging into the nape of his neck. ‘God,’ she breathed, eyes slipping closed as she dropped her head back. His free hand had been dancing up and down her spine, fingering the notches like the fretboard of a cello, and it was on her whispered blaspheme that he slipped the tips of his fingers below the lace of her panties to grasp her ass, tug her closer to him so her knees hit the edge of the bed.
He continued kneading her buttock, grinning against her tit when she gasped as his hand delved lower, his middle finger smearing the wet heat seeping from her opening across her perineum. ‘You’re wet, Scully. Is that all the anticipation you’ve been building up? Getting yourself worked up all last week and not allowed to relieve it?’
Her breaths were coming out in heavy pants as she bit her lip, rolled her head down to look at him, ‘y’know, Mulder,’ she murmured, tugging his head away from her breast and moving to straddle him on the bed, nose brushing his as she looked into his eyes and dragged her panty-clad pussy over the tip of his erection, ‘I could ask you the same question.’
‘And I’d say yes.’
‘Glad we’re on the same page,’ she whispered into his ear, before running her tongue around the conch of it, making him jump, his cock bumping into her, ‘but perhaps I could guide you to the paragraph I’m on,’ she took his hand, the one still plucking at her nipple, and led it down her body to rest his palm on her mons, his fingers grazing over delicate lace to rest against her sopping pussy.
He swept his lips back and forth across her shoulder as her soft, lust-filled moans filled his ear and her hips shifted in his hands, her pelvis grinding against his open palm. She was gripping his shoulders, using them as leverage to rock herself into him, working herself up and making herself more and more desperate.
She whimpered when he curled his fingers, dragging them up to dip below her waistband, slipping down in the confines of her panties. For a moment he just held himself there – held her there – his hand cupping her heat as her cunt wept onto his fingers and her hips strained to slip him inside of her. He could feel the coarse tangle of trimmed curls and the way she was so swollen and hot in his hand. He wanted to see her, see that pink little pussy, the way it glistened in the light of the room.
But then she whined, whispered his name, and he was jolted into the realisation that he had Dana Scully’s pussy in his hand and he was going to make her come so hard, not just for science, but for her, and for him. Part of him wanted to shed his briefs, slam her down onto his painfully hard cock, making her cry out for him as he rammed into her again and again and again, whilst another part of him wanted to lay her down, lick her and taste her and suck her until she was a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him and pushing slowly into her, just the two of them coming together in the blissful oblivion of love until the end of time. But this was Scully. His Scully. And the only reason she was even allowing him to do this was the experiment. Science. And he’d do anything for her, including making her come so many times she ran out of room on her little whiteboard to tally it up. So he swiped his middle finger, gathering her slip as he drew it up and down her slick opening, skirting past her clit each time until she had her forehead dropped to his, her hands white-knuckling his hair as she wriggled her hips, just trying to get him where she wanted him.
‘Please?’ she groaned, a tone of voice he’d never heard issued from her, throaty and whiney and desperate.
He wondered briefly if they should tally the number of times each of them begged, wanted to hear that tone for the rest of his life, and knowing full well that he was so close to begging to find his home within her himself. Perhaps something to bring up when they were done.
Try as he might, he couldn’t deny her; slipped his middle finger into her, smirking into her neck when she moaned thickly and pulsed her hips against his hand. He tilted his wrist so he could slip his ring finger in as well, curling them towards himself in come hither motions, dragging the tips of them up and down her front wall, hooking them against her pelvis as he slicked his thumb through the wetness squelching out of her and dragging it up to her clit, pressing hard, fast circles into her as the rhythm of her whimpers increased and her hips rocked faster, ‘you’re gonna come so hard Scully, aren’t you? I can feel the way your pussy is clenching on my fingers, you’re so close, so close.’
She cried out, eyes slammed tightly shut and fists balled tightly in his hair. If his cock wasn’t so painful, he’d probably have a problem with how much she was pulling it, but right now all he could think about was the woman soaking his hand. ‘Keep talking, Mulder,’ she grunted out between gritted teeth as she chased her own release. Talking, huh? Dana Scully liked dirty talk. Another thing to experiment with over the week: just how far could he take it?
‘Those panties are going to be ruined after this. Such a shame, they look so pretty on your little cunt. Can’t wait to take them off though, see how wet you are for me, for this. Soaking. I can feel you. God, Scully, I can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock, all tight and hot. I don’t think I’m gonna last, I really don’t. Not with how tight you are, and the way your cunt’s trembling and clenching right now. Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure I ruin you before you ruin-‘
‘Fuck,’ she bit out, bearing down on his two fingers as she came, her body trembling in his arms as she slumped into him, her hips bucking as her clit pulsed under his thumb and her walls clenched his fingers until he thought they might fall off. ‘Fuck,’ she huffed, the occasional quake still shaking her body as he pulled his fingers out, leaving a trail of slickness up her abs as he dragged them up to her tits before locking eyes with her and sucking them into his mouth.
‘Think you can beat that?’
‘Wanna bet?’
‘Isn’t that what we’re already doing?’
‘Touché,’ she smirked before pushing him backwards on the bed and settling herself on his stomach. Her panties were soaked through as she pressed herself into his abs, rocking herself back and forth a few times, sighing blissfully. Her breasts swayed with her gentle movements and he felt like a teenager as he averted his eyes so he didn’t blow his load early. To come just from her sat on him would not give the greatest impression, and, after all, the prestige of men across the world was weighing on his shoulders. She plucked at the elastic of his waistband, snapping it back into place with a grin, ‘these need to come off.’
She helped him out of his briefs and slightly further up onto the bed, situating herself between his thighs as she took a moment to admire his erection. It really was quite a specimen, one might even say beautiful. She licked her lips, thought about consuming him whole, only to lock eyes with him with a laugh when he audibly gulped. ‘You know,’ she said, reaching her hand out to run a finger up the underneath of his shaft from base to tip, collecting the bead of precum leaking from him and smearing it across his velvety head, ‘I’ve noticed this week you were more distracted than ever at work. Were you thinking about this? Thinking about what I was going to do to you?’
‘Yes,’ eyes shut tight, he nodded.
‘And you didn’t touch yourself once?’
‘No. No, we agreed not to.’
‘Hmm, must have been very hard, Mulder,’ her voice was sweet, silky like butter as she purred over him, her fingers wrapping around his swollen member. She ached to take him in, to sink down on him and ride him to the end of his life, but by the look of his tightly clenched jaw and the angry, pulsing redness of his cock, the end of his life wasn’t looking to be that far away, ‘I’m so proud of you for resisting,’ she pumped once, twice, ‘saving yourself for the experiment, for me and my satisfaction,’ a gentle squeeze, her forefinger darting out to swipe another droplet of precum from him, bringing it up to her mouth and sucking, ‘mmm,’ it could possibly have been considered cheating when she dropped her hand to his sac, manicured nails grazing delicate skin, as she asked, in that deep, throaty voice from his dreams, ‘do you want me to suck your cock, Mulder?’
God, if ‘cock’ was all Scully had to say to make him come, it was going to be a very short experiment.
She continued pumping him through his orgasm, cooing over him as he spurted onto her hand and across his stomach, and then, when he was done, licked his come from her hand and used her finger to collect some from his stomach, ‘do you want me to clean you up?’ He merely grunted, his hands over his face, and she bent down, lapping tenderly at his flesh.
‘Scully-‘ he gasped, hand dropping down to tangle in her hair, ‘just...give me a minute.’
‘Of course,’ she nodded, stood up and marked each of their columns on the whiteboard once to give him a moment to catch his breath. Her underwear was unpleasantly wet, and though it had not bothered her whilst she was jerking Mulder off, it was now, so she slid them down her legs and tidied the clothes that littered the room into neat piles. She grabbed two bottles of water and sat next to him on the bed, passing him one over.
‘Sorry.’
‘What for?’ she asked, taking a gulp of water and looking at him out the corner of her eye.
‘Y’know, arriving early.’
‘You didn’t,’ she shook her head. ‘I gave you a hand job and you came. That is perfectly normal.’
‘You didn’t want sex?’
‘Well, sex would be good – y’know, for science. But I figured you’d find sex easier and more pleasurable if I relieved some pressure first. It will make it more enjoyable for both of us,’ she gave him a shrug, grabbed a wet wipe from the table and started carefully cleaning him up, avoiding his tender dick.
‘Do you need cleaning up at all, Scully?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Well, I figure you’ve cleaned me up, and it’s only fair I repay the favour,’ there was a wicked glint in his eye as she looked over at him and before she could say anything he had rolled over and knocked her backwards, coaxing out a squeal of laughter from her as he moved to hover over her. He allowed his eyes to run down her naked body properly for the first time. From taut, rosy nipples across porcelain skin broken only by the smatterings of freckles that peppered her shoulders and chest. A stomach toned, yet still soft, garnished with a pearl embedded in a loop of gold; the jut of sharp hipbones. And then heaven; the holy grail – a neatly trimmed thatch of auburn hiding her most precious secret, the slight glisten of her come in the daylight filtering through the windows.
When lit properly, a marble sculpture glows. It’s the translucency of good-quality marble that gives it the soft, lifelike quality. Sculptors choose to work with marble because it’s pliant enough to carve without excessive force but hard enough to hold small details.
It looks, when carved, like skin.
She looked when observed, like marble.
She was a work of art, with her slight, aquiline nose, alabaster skin and a gaze that could turn men to stone. Her neck, that fine column, so pale that the fine tracery of vessels brushed the surface with a bluish hue. Her hands, always cold, refined and honed with the dexterity of a doctor’s study.
She had the demure elegance and grace of Strazza’s Veiled Virgin and the rippling strength and force of Athena.
In place of gauzelike billows, she wore rigid pantsuits; her bulky armour against the world of men.
In place of spear and Aegis, she wielded a SIG Sauer and a bi-fold badge.
Bestowed with the courage of Arete and the beauty of Helen, she could have been a Greek heroine, auburn hair curling to frame her face.
She was an angel, for sure: he was dead, Bruckman was right. He must have wanked himself to death and now here he was, in heaven with this Scully-angel; her dark, lusty eyes fixed to him as he lowered himself to her core, inhaled deeply the essence of her sweet ambrosia before pressing a tender kiss to her mons. He would worship her, fall to his knees at her feet and fulfil her every wish and whim.
He nudged her legs open and lowered himself; started with her left thigh, the whisper of his heated breath followed by the brush of his lips and a lap of his tongue, dragging the remains of her come from where it had dried on her soft skin. He licked her thigh clean, erasing any trace of her pleasure so he could start all over again. When he reached the crevice between her leg and her cunt he paused, took his time tracing up and down it with the very tip of his tongue, holding her legs open and still when she squirmed. And then, before he could lose himself in her divine warmth, he diverted himself to her other thigh, repeating his path, licking and sucking and biting as he teased her and her soft moans filled the room, the musky smell of her sex flooding his nose every time she tried to subtly roll her hips.
He had never thought of Scully as wanton. Had spent five years shoving with little success the idea of her as a sexual being from his mind, lest he forget his place beside her as partner and friend. And whilst, in his lonely nights, he had failed, imagined her atop him or below him, surrounding him and completing him, he had never truly thought how openly she would beg and plead for it.
But beg and plead she did, with her hands fisting in the sheets and her chest heaving, she whimpered his name, asked him for something, anything: asked him for more.
He promised himself he would ask her to be more specific later, ask her to tell him exactly what she wanted, tell her not to mince her words, but right at this minute, he was nearing full hardness and still hadn’t even licked her fucking cunt. He was most certainly not going to last the week. She would kill him, and he would go willingly, happily, if only he could spend the rest of eternity with the taste of her on his lips.
And that first, true taste of liquid nectar as it hit his tongue straight from the source – the water of life. Ponce de Leon was wrong, the Fountain of Youth wasn’t in Florida, it was between Scully’s thighs.
One long lick, cleaving her open from bottom to top, a lash or two of his tongue against her clit had her whining, and oh, oh, what a sound. A slurp at her labia. A gasp wrenched from her as he bit down on her clit, tugged and let it go. The delving search of his tongue as he sought depths and truths never before imaginable; the way she writhed, the rhythmic curling of her fists in his hair, just how perfect her nails felt scratching against his back as she coiled over him, pulled herself upwards to rock into his mouth. Her eagle’s grip released him to grasp at a breast, her other hand reaching back to prop herself up as her head lolled back. He adopted a swirling, sucking, nipping rhythm as he buried his face into her sweet pussy, his nose bumping the swollen bead of her clit as he ravished her and her hips frantically bucked, cries of want issuing from her as she begged for more, more, more.
And so he gave her more: two fingers, slick with her juices, glided into her and he found the spongey spot he had earlier discovered, quick little pulses bringing her to climax with a sob and a shout of his name. He held pressure there, rolled her clit under his tongue to elongate her pleasure, grinning into her when the hand that had been tugging at her tit balled to a fist between her teeth, muffling her grunts and groans as she became oversensitive to his touch.
He pressed sloppy, sucking kisses up to her chest, hovered himself over her as he wiped his cheeks and chin with the back of his hand, ‘good?’
‘Mm, very,’ she sighed, bringing her hand up to pet his rumpled hair down.
‘Still want more?’
‘Got more to give?’
‘I think I could find some from somewhere,’ he grinned as ground his cock into her slit, rocking against her. She licked her lips as she tilted her hips up, arching her back so she could reach over to the end table to grab a condom from the martini glass there.
‘Why thank you very much,’ he bowed his head, accepting it from her as she rolled onto her side, propped herself on her elbow as she watched him flip onto his back beside her and roll the latex down his thick length.
She sat up and her fingertips skimmed up his thigh before she guided him back to slouch against the headboard, straddling him once again and stroking his firm shaft, hot and heavy in her hand through the latex, before slicking him through her moisture, sinking down onto his head with a gasp and a sigh, rising on her knees before sinking further down again, pulsing until she settled flush, pelvis to pelvis with him. She stilled for a moment, allowing the feeling of fullness to flood through her, experimentally rippling her muscles around him as he stretched her between the boundary of pleasure and pain.
‘Okay?’
‘Mmm,’ she moaned, lifting herself to drop back down, building a steady rhythm that allowed them both to adjust to the new sensations being experienced, ‘feels good.’
‘Just good?’
‘Great,’ she chuckled, breath hitching as his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, assisting with her movements. He leaned in, dragged his lips up her neck, found just the place that made her squirm and flicked his tongue against it before sucking. Head tilting to give him more access, she whinnied. The roll of her hips, the sweat that glistened across her flushed skin, her sweet, musky smell and the taste of her still lingering on his lips; it was intoxicating, driving him mad. She was gasping, chest heaving with pants as she increased her pace, as her voice, husky with arousal, started to mewl, ‘please, please, Mulder. More.’
‘More what, Baby? What do you need?’ his mind was fuzzy with the thrum of desire that was pulsing through him, craving their mutual release. She took his hand in her own, showed him just how she liked her clit touched, fast and hard circles bringing her crashing around him, teeth digging into his shoulder to muffle her cries.
With a grunt, Mulder rolled them over, straining to stay still and stave off his orgasm as she rode out hers, maintaining the smallest of rocking in and out of her until she opened her heavy eyes, shifted beneath him and flexed her muscles, ‘you didn’t come.’
‘I reckon I can make you come once more.’
‘Hmm, not sure you will,’ she smirked on a sigh.
‘Well, I won’t with that attitude,’ he shrugged, gliding his slick cock into her on a hard thrust and she yelped, arching her back off the bed when he pulled out and slammed back home again.
He took one of her thighs in hand, opened her up further as he pounded into her, luxuriating in the wet sounds of her arousal as it pooled around the base of his dick and dripped down onto the bed. He was fucking Scully. She was gasping and keening beneath him, biting down hard on her lip, one hand grasping and kneading a tit whilst the other frantically flicked at her clit until her whole body clenched tightly, her cried ‘harder’s flooded the room and he was slave to everything she wanted, doing everything he could to tip her over the edge just one more time, until she broke, shattering around him with her mouth open on a silent cry and her cunt spasming about him and dragging him down too, her walls clenching around his hard cock milking him as he came hard into the condom sheathing him.
He pulled out of her and rolled off before he could crush her, gasping for breath and slinging an arm across his forehead as he stared at the ceiling, ‘fuck.’
‘Quite,’ she heaved a sigh as she caught her breath, hand on her breast and a sheen of sweat cooling on her skin, leaving gooseflesh pinpricking in its wake. She tilted her head to look over to the clock on the bedside table, hummed at the hour, ‘it’s half four. I think I’m going to take a shower before dinner.’
‘Mm, ‘course,’ he nodded, a smile tugging at his lips when she didn’t move from her spot beside him.
‘You haven’t worn me out, you know.’
‘Really?’ one eye cracked open as he turned his head to look at her.
‘First day off from work in a while, that’s all.’
‘Ah, of course. Same here.’
She snorted and grinned at him as she rolled over and patted him on the stomach before standing up, ‘take a nap, Mulder. You look like you need it.’
 ~~~
With the bathroom door shut to him, she slumped against it. She could feel her heart thumping away in her chest, and very little of that had to do with exertion. Perhaps she was stupid, having gone along with this. In truth, there was no perhaps about it. God, she was a fool.
How was she ever going to forget about it? The way he touched her, made her feel. The fucking amazing orgasm. Had it ever been that good before? Not that she could remember. And yes, they were challenging one another, but still, she didn’t think she’d ever been with a man who had been so mindful of just how pleasurable it was for her; that she’d been with anyone who was so in sync with her. That was the key problem. How was she, at the end of the week, going to just...move on. Perhaps she should call it off, cite how unprofessional they were being, how inappropriate the whole thing was. They could be written up for it; could be reassigned, lose the files.
But oh, how could she do such a thing and not take the rest of the week with him first. It would make no difference in the end, except for perhaps how hard it would be to leave him. Besides, she’d paid for the week at the hotel already. And he wasn’t going to catch her backing down from a challenge so easily.
It was for science. Yes, science. That’s all she had to keep telling herself. And, at the end of the week, when they parted ways, she’d at least have some real evidence of what he was like in bed to keep her hands and mind occupied on those sleepless nights.
And, perhaps one day, she’d find someone who loved her as much as she loved Mulder. Or, at least, someone who was nice to her, and didn’t go running off into the forest on a bi-weekly basis.
She turned the shower on, twisted the heat up to high, and stepped under the scalding stream of water. She was resolute, she’d spend a week experiencing the many sins of the flesh with Mulder, and when they left she’d keep her memories hidden away in a drawer whilst she tried to move on.
 ~~~
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she called through to him as she tallied up their orgasms on the whiteboard, ‘the female ability to experience multiple orgasms is going to put me at a disadvantage if we’re judging the better at sex on who can give the most orgasms. I mean, one round and you’re already ahead of me by two. I think we need another category to balance the playing field.’
‘What do you suggest?’ he poked his head out from the bathroom, hair a tousled wet mess and the toothbrush she bought him in hand.
It took her a moment, as she stared at him with her lip trapped between her teeth, to remember what they were talking about. God, he was good looking. And oh, how her stomach twisted at the thought of seeing him like this for the rest of her life – rivulets of water on his bare chest, boyish grin. She was worse than the trashy novels she hid under her bed, but oh, what it would be like to come home to him and wake up to him and have lunch with him until the end of time.
‘Scully?’
‘Hm?’ she cleared her throat, ‘I was thinking, who lasted longest before needing a break? Stamina and sustenance is another important factor.’
‘Sounds fair. I was also thinking perhaps we should add begging to the categories.’
‘How do we define begging?’ she asked, eyebrow quirked. Was that a dig at her, perhaps? Did he think her weak for wanting him so much? Did he see through to her thinly veiled need for him, and his love and attraction and affection?
He shrugged, ‘it’s like porn, Scully. You know it when you see it.’
 ~~~
Each showered and dressed in jeans and t-shirts, they made their way down to the hotel’s restaurant, a companionable silence filing the elevator and accompanying them to their table. They talked about everything and nothing over dinner, chicken alfredo for her and Parma ham wrapped salmon and potatoes for him. A glass of wine each as they discussed first kisses and the state of the economy. Tiramisu split between two.
He couldn’t look away from her as she ate, each morsel savoured, each sip delicate. She wasn’t trying to seduce him, he knew that, but still; what could be more vitally attractive than the act of consuming? He hadn’t seen her enjoying food so much since before her cancer, her appetite taking longer than he thought it should to return. He’d noticed, when she’d been in his arms, that she was filling out a little, her broken-angel body softening again so that the sharp jut of wing-blades and hip bones found some cushioning again. He’d caught sight of her as she’d dressed in hospitals and motel rooms, watched as her skin sallowed and shrunk to define her rib bones and the notches of her spine, right up until the point where he thought there could be nothing left of her.
He'd been so close to losing her.
‘You’re staring,’ she murmured, looking up at him through her lashes with a small smile playing on the corner of her lips.
‘Am I? I hadn’t noticed,’ he grinned, taking a small bite of tiramisu and leaving the rest for her, pushing it across the table. ‘I was just thinking how good it is to see you hungry.’
‘Hmm. I worked up an appetite earlier.’
‘Clearly,’ he smirked, watched as she scraped the last vestiges of cream and crumbs from the plate, felt his pants tighten as she moaned around her fork, eyes flickering shut on the final laps of her tongue. ‘You, uh...you want coffee before we...retire, or, uh...’
‘I think I can forgo coffee,’ she leaned forwards, closer to him, as she placed her fork down and licked her lips, ‘I was thinking, really, considering how this is for science and all, we should probably get some more work in on it.’
‘Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right,’ he nodded hurriedly, balling up his napkin and nodding over to the waiter. He passed him a tip and asked for the bill to be put on the room tab, before standing halfway up and dropping back down to his chair again almost instantly.
‘Mulder?’ she asked, having stood up already and moved next to him.
He looked down to his lap, cringed, ‘I, uh, have a...small problem.’
She glanced down to his lap too, smirked, ‘only a small problem?’ she bent down to his ear, ‘looks like quite a big problem to me.’
‘Fuck, Scully,’ he hissed, staring up at her as she held her hand out to him and pulled him up, taking his hand and tugging him close to her so he was walking right behind her, his hard cock brushing up against her lower back. He groaned, squeezed tighter on her hand as she led him through the lobby of the hotel to the bank of elevators. She giggled when she reached over to press the call button and he yanked her back into his torso, wrapping his large hands around her waist and holding her there. She rolled her ass against him and he growled, tightening his grip on her, ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Scully.’
‘And why would that be, Agent Mulder?’ an innocent smile and eyelashes batted at him, he groaned, tried to avoid grinding up against her with all the hotel staff to watch. Just that thought had his blood racing south even faster, his jeans uncomfortably tightening further.
‘You’re going to get us in trouble.’
‘I am? Oh, but Mulder,’ she craned her head around to look at him with a piteous pout, ‘I’m not the one wandering around with a raging hardon in public.’
‘Keep talking like that and it won’t be a problem in a minute,’ he ground out, eyes clenched tightly shut as he tilted his face to the high ceiling so he wasn’t burying his nose into her hair and inhaling constantly the enigmatic scent of her shampoo.
‘Are you threatening me?’
She was smirking, damn it. She was having fun. ‘I’m telling you that if I do not make it to the room in one piece, you will not get fucked. You may read into it as you please.’
‘God, where’s this fucking elevator?’
‘You know, I don’t ever think I’ve heard such filthy language from you, Scully. Not even about the vilest of men.’
She heaved a breath as she tried to clear her head, pay attention to what he was saying and what was going on around them. It was taking all of her restraint not to grind back into him, to not reach a hand up to grasp a breast or wrap an arm back around to his hip to hold him in place, ‘maybe monsters simply don’t do it for me, Mulder. Ever thought of that?’
‘Frequently,’ he murmured, sending his own praises up to God as the elevator pinged and the door slid open. He pushed her inside, reaching a hand out to jab rapidly at the button for the fourth floor before anyone else could join them in the carriage. They both held their breaths as tense moments slid by before the doors swooped shut and they both gasped their relief at being alone. She pressed herself back against him and they each moaned, the blissful pain of their exertion at waiting, knowing that soon it will be relieved and they will be satisfied.
‘We can’t fuck in the elevator,’ she breathed as his hands slid down from her hips to the vee of her thighs, his thumbs rubbing a line from her hipbones to where his fingertips pressed into her fleshy inner thighs and back again, ‘there’s a camera.’
‘Get the key card out and ready, then. I don’t know how long I can wait for that door to be unlocked, and I don’t think the staff will take kindly to us getting come on their corridor carpet.’
She moaned something that could have been his name as she fumbled for her key card in her pocket, grasping it victorious between two fingers as they both lapsed into silence watching the number flick from three to four and the ding of the elevator. They tumbled out through slowly opening doors and hurried down the corridor to their room, Scully pulling slightly ahead of him and giving herself a moment extra to get the door open. When it was he pushed her through and spun her around so her back was against it as it slammed shut, her fingers already working at the button of her jeans whilst he focused on pulling off her t-shirt and fumbling with the lace of her bra, eventually giving up and simply tugging the cups down below her tits to take one into his mouth. With her own button and zipper undone, she left the shimmying off of her pants to her legs and gravity whilst she went to work on his, grateful he had forgone a belt as she tugged them down his legs, giving up when they reached mid-thigh. She squealed as he hoisted her onto his hips, pressing her between himself and the door, and she took no hesitation in dropping her hand to slick through her wetness before grasping his steely cock and slathering him in herself before guiding him to her, encouraging him with locked eyes and a nod. He slammed home with a grunt and she cried out, her fingernails drawing blood where she clung to his shoulders.
She felt primal as he thrust into her, and his mouth on her neck drove her wild as her hands roamed his body and hers, scrabbling against the wooden door for a moment to try and find purchase before returning to his flesh. His fingers dug into her buttocks as he supported her, his mouth making a circuitous route around the top of her body as he sucked and nipped and bit at her as she panted and whimpered, driving her closer and closer to the edge.
‘Give me your fingers,’ he grunted, opening his mouth to catch them and suck three of them in. He sucked and lapped at them like they were her pussy, locking eyes with her as he soaked them with his saliva, taking pleasure in the wild hunger he saw in her. He pulled back, letting a final dribble of his spit coat them, before growling, ‘touch yourself, Scully. Touch yourself how I tell you to,’ her cunt grasped him tightly at that command, and he thought she might come, but she dropped her head back and lowered her hand, fingers hovering over her clit until he told her what to do. He slowed his thrusts down; long, deep drives having her whining and crying out, ‘slowly, Scully; hard pressure and slowly, in little circles.’ She gasped as her wet fingertips made contact and her head dropped to his shoulder, ‘oh, good girl, good girl, watch what you’re doing, watch my cock and your sweet, beautiful pussy as it swallows it.’
She whimpered, her whole body trembling as she teetered on the edge, and as he slowly dragged his thick member out of her his hands slipped on her sweat-soaked ass, jolting her down hard on his cock. She seized, every inch of her tightening and clamping down on him, her teeth biting into his shoulder before her inner walls spasmed around him and she soaked his cock with her juices whilst she moaned and stuttered various blasphemes mingled with his name. Without giving her time to ride through her orgasm he pulled out and dropped her down, turning her and bracing her hands on the arms of one of the chairs, lining himself up behind her and grinding himself along her seam twice before frantically pushing into her.
She panted as she took him, white-knuckling the wooden frame of the armchair. She felt like his hands were everywhere, moulding her ass-cheeks, guiding her hips back onto him as he pounded into her, running up and down her spine, around her torso to pluck and pull at her nipples. She grunted when his fingers took up a hard and fast pace on her already overly sensitised clit, treading the border of pain as she felt a second climax creep up upon her and take her over, leaving her body struggling to maintain the strength to stand as he continued to rut into her until she felt him explode inside of her.
She felt as he wrapped an arm around her waist and used his remaining strength to drag her with him as he slumped down onto the loveseat behind them, keeping his softening cock tucked within her still as she reclined her body back onto him with an exhausted but sated sigh. ‘Can I ask you something, Mulder?’
‘No. I don’t think I have any brain cells left after that.’
She snorted, held his arm that was still wrapped securely around her stomach, ‘was...has it ever been...like that, for you?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like that; that...good?’
‘Hmm,’ he thought upon it, without needing even a moment to think of his answer, ‘no, not that I can remember,’ never, he wanted to say, never because it was never you before now.
‘Why do you think that is?’ she asked, even post-coital her scientific brain never shutting up for a second, ‘scientifically speaking, of course.’
‘Of course. Perhaps we’re both just so horny and sex-starved it’s like an oasis with the best water one could ever imagine.’
‘Whoever said I was horny and sex-starved?’
‘You, for suggesting this experiment: nobody getting any at home would think this up.’
They both pondered that in silence as she ran her fingers through the soft scrub of his arm hair, ‘do you miss it? Sex?’
‘I have my tapes, Scully. You know that.’
‘Ah, finally accepting that they’re yours, then?’ she smirked, ‘no, that’s not what I mean.’
‘I know what you mean,’ he murmured quietly, ‘I guess I do. I miss sex with the right person.’
‘What do you mean?’ she frowned, tilting her head to look up at him, only able to see the bottom of his chin where his head was rested against the back of the sofa.
‘I don’t miss casual, one-night stand sex, but I miss sex with someone I love. Someone I care for and have a connection with. Don’t you?’
‘I guess I’d never really thought about it like that,’ she turned back to face the empty anteroom in front of them, ‘has anyone ever told you how much of a romantic you are, Mulder?’
‘Who, me?’
‘Mm. You hold some very romantic notions,’ she sighed, gasped slightly when she shifted to allow his flaccid cock to slip out of her, ‘I’m going to use the bathroom and get ready for bed.’
‘M’kay,’ he nodded, casting his gaze across her body as she stood and bent down by the door to gather her discarded clothes. His sight landed on the glisten between her thighs as he watched a trickle of his come seep from her, ‘shit.’
‘What?’ she looked over her shoulder at him as she walked towards the bathroom.
‘We, uh, we didn’t use a condom.’
‘Oh,’ she frowned, looked down at the evidence of his statement between her legs and his, ‘okay.’
‘Okay?’
‘Mm. I won’t be long in the bathroom, then it’s all yours.’
He’d still been in the anteroom when she’d left the bathroom and crawled into bed, remained there until she flicked the light on her side of the bed off. She feigned sleep when he returned from the bathroom, tried to even her breathing out as he laid down beside her. And whilst he wasn’t on top of her, he was closer than was necessary for such a big bed; though he did seem to make a concerted effort not to touch her. She wondered if she had offended him by pointing out his romantic notions, her chest twisting inexplicably when he didn’t say goodnight as he flicked his light off – whilst there was no precedence for it, she still felt somewhat hurt that he hadn’t.
She knew Mulder, knew how plagued he was by insomnia, and had spent the week commencing the experiment wondering if he would actually sleep at all, but to her surprise, he seemed to drift off faster than her. Perhaps she had worn him out.
Day Two
Chapter Masterlist
Tagging @today-in-fic
55 notes · View notes
Text
Enchanted
Chapter 1!
Chapter 2: Have We Met? 
AO3!
Word Count: 2,990
Keith’s POV 
It had been a week since Lance had become his guard, and they quickly fell into a routine. He would meet Keith outside of his room in the morning, follow him to breakfast, follow him to training, the library, the garden, and anywhere Keith wanted to go. 
He would accompany him to lunch but never ate anything himself; even if Keith offered. He would wait outside the conference room when Keith was required to attend a meeting, stand behind him during dinner, and then check his room for intruders or anything out of place and leave Keith for the night. 
Keith was convinced he would be annoyed having someone follow him all the time, and in the past he was. But Lance…Lance was different. He was quiet, following Keith like a shadow. Sometimes he forgot he was even there until he turned around. 
He blended into his space, into his daily routine. Keith liked it. 
He glanced at Lance over the book he was reading. Lance stared at the dusty bookcase, his eyes scanning the worn leather. “You can touch them if you want.” 
Lance looked at him, and an easy smile on his face. “I’m okay, I just…these books are old y’know.” 
Keith raised his eyebrow at his knight, “uhh yeah.” 
“How many do you think were printed before Zarkon? Before the war? What did they endure or see?” Lance questioned, his fingers hovering over a couple of books. He never physically touched the books, just kept his fingers an inch or two over the spines. Almost as if they would turn to dust under his fingers. 
Keith closed his book gently, “forty-seven.” 
Lance turned towards him, “excuse me, your majesty?” 
“Forty-seven books are from before Zarkon, most were destroyed during his reign but some were saved. Some Galran knew their importance and did what they could to preserve and hide them." 
Lance gave a slight nod, “how many of these books have you read?” 
Keith looked at the shelf, “all of them on that shelf, and the next shelf, and the one after that, and so on. Every book in this room.” 
Lance turned his body some, letting his eyes look at all the shelves. “Do you ever get bored of rereading them?” 
“Yeah…but every time I ask for new books I only get one or two. I think they're tired of me asking.” 
“I see,” Lance dropped his hand, “forgive my questions. I won’t interrupt you again.” He bowed quickly. 
Keith smiled to himself, he found the other boy enduring in a weird way. “Feel free to ask questions. If we’re going to be around each other for the foreseeable future I want you to be comfortable.” 
Lance balled his hands into fists, quickly unclenching them. “I don’t want any of my questions to be rude. Or insensitive. I’m just your guard after all.” 
Keith placed his book on the table beside him. “I want to play a game."
“Uhh…what kind of game?” Lance looked at him with a borderline childlike curiosity. 
“A mirror game. Any question I ask you, you have to ask me.” 
The knight grinned slightly, “if that will make the crown prince happy then ask away." 
“Then sit down and get comfortable.” 
“As I’ve said before, I’m fine standing.” 
Keith rolled his eyes and released an exaggerated sigh, “just sit down. That’s an order.” 
Lance chuckled, “okay.” He sat in the chair across from him, sitting on the edge of the seat. 
Keith felt himself freeze slightly, he hadn't heard Lance laugh like that before. He found all he wanted to do was preserve it to memory. Have it play on repeat. He cleared his throat, suddenly remembering Lance was waiting for him. “What’s your favorite color?” 
“Easy, blue.” Lance closed his mouth, his jaw tightening briefly before he repeated the question. “What’s your favorite color…?” 
Keith flashed him a small but encouraging smile. “Red. What’s your weapon of choice?” 
“Uhh, that’s tough. We are issued an Altean Broadsword as standard so I’ll just say that.” Lance’s fingers subconsciously lingered on his sheathed weapon. “What is your favorite weapon?” 
Keith crossed his arms, sinking back in his chair some. “I like swords, short swords to be exact. What’s one of your favorite places to go?” 
Lance smiled softly, more to himself than at the prince. “Anywhere with water. Altea has these beautiful bodies of water. And Earth, if you ever visited, has bodies of water as well. They call them oceans, they’re also spectacular.” 
Keith felt a smile tug on his lips, he could watch Lance talk about the ocean for hours. “I’ve heard of Earth’s ocean, but I’ve never been.” 
“I hope you can one day. What about you?” 
Keith turned his body so he could look out the window, “I like walking the garden…it’s peaceful. Nobody bothers me, I don’t have to be the prince when I’m there.” 
“Do you not like being a prince?” 
Keith shook his head slightly, turning back so he was facing Lance. “Maybe if I wasn't next to the throne it would be okay but,” Keith paused. He hadn’t really had an actual conversation about this. People knew about his discomfort and annoyance but he never verbalized why. “I have no say over my life really. It’s already been decided what my life will be like…” he trailed off. 
“It’s suffocating…it’s it?” 
“Yeah, that’s a good way to describe it.” 
Neither boy said anything for a couple of moments before Lance snapped his fingers. “What’s your least favorite prince duty?” 
“Meetings.” 
“Why?” Lance leaned forward some, staring at Keith with excitement. 
Keith couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, trying to breathe around his fluttering heart. “They’re boring.” 
Lance made a grunt of agreement, and sat back in his chair; finally moving off the edge of the seat. “Your turn to ask a question.” 
Keith gave the other boy a questioning look, he had an unshakable feeling Lance was planning something. He ignored the feeling and before either of them knew it, three hours had passed. 
“It does not rain fire on Altea.” 
“It does! It can poke a hole right through your head,” Lance responded as they made their way to the dining hall. Walking side by side, instead of Lance a foot behind him. 
“Ah Keith and Knight McClain, happy to see you two getting along.” Kolivan round the corner with his wife, grinning at both of them. 
Lance immediately bowed, taking a step back in his proper space. “Your highnesses.” 
“Rise, Knight McClain. Where are you two off to?” 
 “Dinner, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.” Keith took over the conversation. 
His parents smiled, “will you join us later for family night?” 
“Yeah…we’ll be there.” 
---
Keith ignored his parents' questioning stare as he and Lance entered the family den after he finished dinner. He sat in his normal seat, Lance standing a bit awkwardly behind him. He couldn’t blame Lance’s tension, guards weren't supposed to invade this space. 
His parents stared at his knight, their eyes shifting to each other; a silent form of communication. His mother cleared her throat, “Knight McClain, feel free to sit down.” She gave him a warm smile, trying to ease his stiffness. 
“I’m okay standing, but thank you, empress,” Lance bowed at her. Quickly straightened his back, his right hand wrapped around the handle of his weapon. 
“Oh come on, we insist!” His dad cheered, raising his glass to his lips. 
Lance eyed the couch Keith was sitting on, seeming to be silently arguing with himself. He eventually gave a stiff nod and stepped around the furniture to sit on the cushion next to him. Trying to press himself as far away as he could from Keith; who just happened to be in the middle of the couch. 
Keith and his parents chatted back and forth for a bit, Lance sitting in silence, staring at the coffee table in front of them. “Did you see the gardeners adding a new species of flower? They’re from Earth, oh what were they called.” Krolia furrowed her eyebrows in thought. 
His father hummed in thought, “I can’t remember. They were yellow, with long petals and the center was a brown color.” 
“Oh! And it had seeds in the center. Very interesting and beautiful.” 
“Sunflowers,” Lance said, his eyes still on the table. He seemed to remember where he was since his face turned a deep red, his marks glowing a bit with embarrassment. “My apologies.” 
His parents chuckled slightly, “no need to apologize. You said ‘sunflowers?” Krolia questioned. 
Lance nodded, meeting Krolia’s eyes, “yes. They were one of my favorite parts of visiting Earth. There were fields upon fields of the same flowers, and the seeds are edible.” 
“You’ve been to earth?” Kolivan questioned. 
“Yes, your majesty. I went when I was younger and again around sixteen. King Alfor works closely with some earthlings on technology.” Lance squeezed his hands closed, his eyes drifting back to the wooden table.  
“Fascinating,” Krolia said, his eyes filled with wonder. 
Keith glanced at his knight, his expression more composed than a few minutes ago. He felt a strong urge to brush his fingers against the marks that sat under his eyes. Or maybe even through his hair. He shifted so his hand was under his thigh, unsure where the desire came from. 
His parents ended up playing a movie about an hour after Keith and Lance entered the room. It was a drama about politicians. A classic. Keith found his eyes slipping close after the movie hit the halfway mark, his body leaning to the right some. 
His head was pressed against a hard and cool surface. He felt Lance stiffen beside him, he could tell he wasn't even breathing. He should push himself up, mumble an apology and head back to his room. But sleep tugged on him, enticing him to slip into slumber right there; so he did. Unaware of his parents' glances, and how Lance’s marks glowed a bit brighter. 
He was awoken with a gentle shake, his father peering at him with his soft yellow eyes. “I think it’s time to stop using your knight as a pillow and head to bed.” 
Keith allowed his dad to pull him up some, Lance standing as soon as the weight was off him. “What time is it?” Keith rubbed his eyes, trying to stretch his neck some. Maybe that wasn’t the most comfortable way to sleep. 
“Time for bed, Knight McClain, could you escort him to his chamber please?” Krolia asked in a soft voice, staring lovely at her son. 
“Yes your majesty,” Lance gave her a small bow, making his way to the door; waiting patiently. 
Keith gave his parents a quick hug, a rare occurrence for Galrans. But he was groggy and for once was feeling a bit affectionate. The walk to his room was silent, only the sound of their feet on the marble floor. “Why doesn’t your armor make any noise when you walk?” Keith questioned, rubbing a hand down his face; he just wanted to collapse in his bed.  
“It’s enchanted. The alchemy used makes it silent and lighter without losing its protectiveness of it.” 
Keith hummed, “sounds badass.” 
Lance laughed softly, “it’s not completely foolproof. I can still get injured or killed wearing it and if I trip and fall it will make noise.” 
Keith stifled a yawn, his eyes finally falling on his bedroom door. “Is that all it can do?” 
“It has another ability.” 
“Conversation for another day?” Keith allowed Lance to open the door, entering the room first. He only waited for a couple of seconds before Lance opened the door wider; beckoning him in. 
“Yeah, I’ll check the bathroom before your nightly routine.” 
Lance quickly checked the bathroom, deeming it safe and Keith entered; quickly turning on the shower. He stretched out his muscles under the hot water, quickly scrubbing himself down. It took him a bit longer to finish getting ready for the night, finding himself staring at his own reflection in the mirror. 
He touched his face, the same spot where it was pressed against Lance. It wasn’t a comfortable position, and the metal was borderline bruising on his skin. Yet; he found himself missing the contact. Missing the closeness to Lance. 
Did he only want it because it was Lance? Or was he simply feeling more affectionate tonight? He wasn’t sure. He quickly slid on his pajamas and stepped out of the bathroom. 
“Do you need anything else before I retire for the night?” Lance asked as he stared out his bedroom window. His hand was still placed on his weapon. 
Keith ran his towel over his hair, taking a moment to look at Lance. He couldn’t deny that he found him attractive. Was it weird to find another man attractive? It wasn’t unheard of, he had met politicians and generals who were married to the same gender. But, had he ever found another man attractive? If he did find another man attractive it was in the past; blurred by the countless people who wanted to be with him.  
Lance wasn’t blurred in his mind, it was a stamp on him. A symbol he wanted to memorize and take everywhere with him. And his eyes, the never-ending blue made Keith feel breathless. 
“Prince?” Lance turned to look at him, a worried look on his face. 
Keith blinked, trying to pull himself out of his internal crisis over the boy in his room. “Sorry,” he looked towards the ground. His brain was at war with itself. He wanted to follow the routine they silently created. He wanted to tell Lance goodnight and climb into his sheets. But the other part wanted Lance to stay longer. To sit with him until he fell asleep. 
“...Is something bothering you, your highness?” Lance took a couple of steps closer, seeming unsure of how to approach him. 
What was bothering him was something that would remain trapped in his mind. Keith dropped his towel on the ground, closing the distance between them. His hand holding his jaw. “Have we met before?” 
Lance stared back at him, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times before he spoke. He didn't shake or try to get away, he wasn't scared. “Yes.”
Keith didn’t drop his hold, his grip was light enough that Lance could easily slip out of it. But he wanted to see his eyes. “When?” 
Lance looked lost in thought for a moment, quickly recovering from the random question. “Eleven years ago. When you visited Altea.” 
Keith stared at the other boy intently, trying to will his memories to find Lance. He hardly remembered his trip to Altea, he was young and it was frankly a boring trip for a nine-year-old. But he couldn’t remember seeing Lance, he couldn’t remember his eyes. “I don’t remember you,” his voice dropped slightly, suddenly feeling guilty for the confession. 
“We didn’t speak, I was standing behind Coran. You only met my eyes once, but after the initial meeting we didn’t see each other again.” 
“I’m sorry I don’t remember that.” 
Lance laughed, “please. You were on a trip around the universe, I never would have expected you to remember a random Altean boy you saw briefly.” 
Keith dropped his hands, quickly realizing the position he put his knight in. “I’m…sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” 
Lance cleared his throat, leaning back some. “Did you need anything else?” 
“No…I’ll see you in the morning.” 
Lance gave a small nod, “goodnight prince.” He stepped around him silently, the door clicking shut behind him. 
Keith sat on his bed, staring down at his hands. He forgot Lance, even digging through his memories he couldn’t find him. He closed his hands, trying to ignore the burn from where he was holding Lance. He would never forget those blue eyes for the rest of his life. 
---
Lance’s POV 
He briskly made his way down to his room, trying to keep his breathing even and his marks dull. Today was too much for him, too much close contact with the prince. 
He opened his door, locking it behind him before he slumped down against the wooden material. He released a shaky sigh, pulling his knees up to his chest the best that he could. 
He hated himself. 
His job was to guard the galran prince, not have feelings for him. He tried to squash them down, tried to bury them under his duties but he couldn’t. He knew he was done for the moment he laid eyes on the prince. 
His soft purple eyes, his slender, but strong build. The way he held himself, the quiet moments they shared, and everything Lance learned about him just added to his affection. He pressed his forehead to his knees, was he going to get yelled at tomorrow when he saw the empire? 
He made sure he didn’t touch the prince during the movie but everyone could see how his mark glowed. Maybe he could pass it off as discomfort? He shook his head, he didn’t want the prince to think he made him uncomfortable. 
Lance touched his jaw, where the prince had gently grabbed him. His skin felt as if it was one fire, the prince's touch burning him. It didn’t hurt but it made it hard to focus on other things. 
He pushed himself up from where he was slumped, quickly snapping off his armor. Placing it neatly in a pile on his desk, next to the Altean royal decoration he wore the first night on Daibazaal. He sat on his bed, pulled a small box from under his bed, and quickly set up what he needed to polish his sword. 
He gently unsheathed it, laying it on his lap as he started to polish it. 
He was a fool to like a prince. 
-----
Oh poor baby :( 
I hope you liked it 
Thank you for reading <33333
17 notes · View notes
dreamsontheirway · 9 months
Text
Bait | Ch. 1 | S.R. x OC
Summary: Willow Brooks is a kind-hearted, but spitfire red head who treats each case with the upmost compassion and care. But when an unsub is targeting women who look just like her, she's faced with the dilemma of acting as bait for the unsub. Spencer Reid, her boyfriend, is absolutely not keen on the idea. Warnings: mentions of murder/the case Word Count: 1k
Navigation
Join Taglist
Tumblr media
"Look at you, so small and fragile... and your beautiful red hair," a deep, bellowing voice spoke.
Whimpers sounded in the dark in response to the low groaning of the male voice. The chopping of scissors sounded next, a sob erupting into the echoing chamber of the dingy underground cell.
"Oh magpie, I love you so much."
-----
Pulling her fiery auburn hair up into a tight ponytail, Willow Brooks entered the bullpen of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Her satchel bag was slung across her frame lazily as she trekked the short distance to her desk. As she placed her bag down at her feet, she couldn't help but let out a long yawn.
If there was one thing that Willow was, it was dedicated to her job. She loved being a profiler, sometimes too much. In fact, she had stayed up far too late the previous night completing files and prepping for the next day. She suffered from chronic anxiety, and sometimes the only way for her to feel safe was to over prepare herself for work. Everyone had their coping mechanism, but Willow wished hers allowed her to get more sleep.
"Tired?"
The voice of Spencer Reid chimed in her ears, and she turned to smile at him. She and Spencer had been together only a short time, but it felt so real for both of them.
“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Willow spoke, pushing stray hairs behind her ear.
Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at her with his big, brown eyes.
“How many times do I need to tell you the importance of getting enough sleep? In fact,” Spencer attempted to ramble before he was cut off.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”
Spencer smiled lovingly at her in response to her apology. He recalled the day they had finally professed their love for each other. After months of innocent pining, all it took was a local officer hitting on her for Spencer to do something about their relationship. The officer had flirted with Willow throughout the entire case, and it culminated with him resting his hand on the small of her back. Spencer recalled the heated feeling that rose up his face upon seeing the interaction; one that quickly turned to rage when the officer's hand began roaming downward.
Willow had grabbed the officer's wrist, twisting it, and Spencer recalled his heart swelling with pride and admiration. Her actions didn't stop him from bolting over to her anyways, intent on giving the officer a piece of his mind. After the ordeal, and after Spencer apologizing to her on behalf of the entire male population, he had finally, and bashfully, admitted his feelings.
Back in the current moment, he reached out, pushing back the strands of auburn hair that had fallen in front of your face once again.
"I'm sorry, I just worry about you."
Willow smiled softly at him, her core filling with warmth at his sweet confession. The moment was short-lived, Agent Hotchner's voice filling the bullpen.
"We've got a case. Roundtable in 5." His rugged gaze traveled across the room before he turned and went back to his office.
"Shall we?" Spencer spoke, and grabbed Willow's bag from the floor.
She just chuckled and rolled her eyes before following him up the stairs. She had protested many times that Spencer did not need to carry her belongings every day, but her efforts were futile.
Garcia was already in the office, and prepping the materials for her presentation. Spencer and Willow took a seat at the opposite end of the roundtable, next to one another, as they often did. Soon enough, the rest of the team piled in and claimed their seats, pulling out notebooks and case files.
"Rough one today, heroes," Garcia spoke before muttering, "as always."
She pulled up a photo of a young woman on the overhead screen. Willow's chest constricted slightly at the sight. The woman bore a striking resemblance to herself; vibrant auburn hair and piercing green eyes. She let out a breathe she didn't realize she was holding before noticing Spencer's jaw clenched tightly beside her. She placed a light hand on his lower thigh to relax him.
"This is Hannah Rogers. She was taken on Monday night and found early this morning in Rochester, New York." Garcia spoke solemnly, stealing a glance at Willow and Spencer.
"It seems the unsub is only holding these women overnight, and their bodies are found the following morning. That means he is most likely dumping them in the very early morning hours." Hotch chimed in, and Garcia clicked to the next slide.
"There clearly seems to be an infatuated with the color of the victim's hair. A lock of hair has been missing from every crime scene, right behind the left ear."
Willow could hear Spencer exhale shakily at the sight of the next slide, showcasing what this unsub did to their victims. She rubbed his thigh again, hoping to ease some of his worry and remind him that she was right here, next to him. His hand traveled to hers, gripping it tightly.
The entire time Willow and Spencer had been dating, he had been extremely protective of her while on cases. They had not discussed it, but Willow could come to the conclusion that it stemmed from his trauma with Maeve. He never wanted her to be put in harm's way, so she could imagine that this case was especially hard for him.
"As you may have noticed, the victimology resembles our own Agent Brooks significantly. Because of this--" Hotch had started, before Spencer interrupted him.
"No." His voice was stern, angry. "I know what you're going to say, and absolutely not."
Hotch eyed him, unimpressed by Spencer's unprofessionalism.
"As I was saying, because of this, we would like to use that resemblance to our advantage. Agent Brooks, we would like to use you to get close to the unsub."
-----
A/N: Thanks for making it to the end! I'm trying something new here, with an original character. Please let me know what you think, and if you're interested in hearing more!
Join Taglist
69 notes · View notes
multific · 9 months
Text
The Interrogation
Tumblr media
Kai Anderson x Reader
Summary: Your husband is a suspect in a murder case that he most definitely committed. So, the cops bring you in for questioning.
Tumblr media
"Mrs Anderson, we just have a couple of simple questions about your husband." two detectives sat down in front of you, you just wanted to roll your eyes but instead went along with it. "You do know why you are here right?"
"No. I do not." you said and from that point on, it was game on.
"Beverly Whells was found dead a week ago near the college your husband teaches at, in fact, she was one of his students. We suspect him to be the killer. And we have a couple of questions, such as where were you last Wednesday between 3pm until next morning."one of them asked as he put down pictures of Beverly in front of you on the table.
"Last Wednesday, I went home from work and stopped by a store to grab some things for dinner. I arrived home around 6pm and started to make dinner."
"Where was your husband at that point? Or rather, where did you believe he was?"
"He was already home by the time I arrived as he usually is. He gets off early on Wednesdays and Fridays," you replied as you leaned back in your chair.
"Did you know Beverly?"
"I might have seen her on campus once or twice. I never pay much attention to the students."
"Where was your husband last Wednesday night?"
"In bed with me. As he always is."
"How can you be sure he didn't leave to meet up with Ms Whells?" asked the other detective.
"I'm a light sleeper, I wake up to the smallest things. I would have noticed if he moved." you let out a long sigh, so he was the bad cop.
"We believe it was your husband who killed this girl. Now, we are not sure if you were also a part of this or not Mrs Anderson."
"Why would any of us want to kill her?"
"Maybe you got jealous? Young woman, always around your husband... Perhaps they had an affair and you took revenge." you laughed at that.
"If it would have been me, you wouldn't have found her." the way you said it with such confidence and with that cold stare, sent shivers down the detective's spine. "My husband and I were sleeping that night. I can give you our home camera footage, we never left the house. Can I go now?"
"Yes, and we do want the camera footage." you nodded at both detectives before heading out. 
Kai was waiting for you next to your car.
"How did it go?" he asked with a childish smile.
"They are just as stupid as you said they would be." he pulled you close and kissed your temple.
"One step closer to complete my plan," he said with a wide grin and you smiled at him as you leaned up to give him a kiss.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
129 notes · View notes
cannot-be-cyn · 5 months
Text
i wish to see the kkoma yoo joonghyuks meet the kkoma kim dokjas…
38 notes · View notes
isekyaaa · 1 year
Text
Tbh the reason why I even considered writing Genshin fics is because I wanted to write for characters like Chongyun, Xingqiu, and Bennett. They're all very interesting characters with a lot of potential
22 notes · View notes
aureatchi · 17 days
Text
aureatchi’s annual angst era begins
5 notes · View notes
prompted-wordsmith · 9 months
Text
Is it patriotism if it's an American's ass getting railed. Americans discuss
8 notes · View notes
kastlequill · 10 months
Text
wishing i had the power to write very fast because i have so many ideas for so many vastly different ships but so little time and speed. and thats how i end up with lots of half-written first drafts :<
9 notes · View notes