greenlifearthub

[bwskj]

NSFW MDI | jjk x reader

- jjk characters reacting to u asking them on call for a moaning audio -

chars: gojo, nanami, megumi, sukuna, yuuji, inumaki

notes: (text) are you; bulleted + written

tags: honestly just a lot of nsfw stuff, pls x away if ur a minor or uncomfy

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gojo

— “baby what?”, he laughs amused, “did you just say you want me to send a moaning audio?”

— you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “ah baby, well i could do that… just not for free. give me something to look at and i’ll make it, how about that?”

output: bro sends a hand held video of him jacking off while sitting on the living room couch. a part of his laptop sitting on the coffee table with your photo/video on it is shown in the upper half of the video, behind the main character that is his thick hard cock. satoru likes talking as if you’re there kneeling in front of him, pretending he’s got your face to tap his dick on before he fully wraps his hand around the girth and starts pumping. he often groans low with the occasional sharp inhales through gritted teeth. eventually, he gets to the point wherein he’s leaking so much pre-cum it’s enough to help him make big smooth strokes over his length. his camera angle ends up wonky sometimes because he’s too zoned in jerking off to you. “fuckkk baby, god you’re so—hot” and “shit… that’s mine, that fucking pussy belongs to me.” he sure loves his dirty talk, “bet you wanna ride this huh, baby? want your tight pussy walls sucking up my cock.” when he finally cums, you can tell he’s trying his best to not hold in his moans (cause ofc that’s what you’re looking for). his thighs tense, spreading apart as his cum shoots up high, loud groans with every shot that spatters all over his bare stomach. he aims the camera down at his messy torso, laying his dick on it as he swipes it across the mess around and on his happy trail. “you better lick this clean off, baby.”

nanami

—“excuse me? a what?” (you repeat yourself)

—hunched over his desk at work, he says, “honey i… don’t do that,” he sounds concerned that you would ask for such thing, “do you need it for… something?” you can imagine the stitch in his brow when he asks this.

— (you reply with a vague and teasing “maybe”) kento lightly huffs, seeming slightly bothered (?)“well, i’m busy right now… just… wait until i get home.”

output: no audio but what did you expect he was at work! not like he would do it though if he wasn’t. instead, on the way home, he’s got one thing on his mind. the thought keeps bubbling up in excitement, making him tap his foot in impatience as he rides the elevator up to your shared apartment. when you hear the jangle of his keys in the doorknob, you spring up from where you’ve been rotting. a smile immediately appears on your face when you see your boyfriend looking even more dashing with the appearance of a man who’s worked hard all day at work. “you’re home, i—“ you’re about to tell him you’ve missed him but he cuts you off when he closes the distance, leaning in and catching your lips with his. he drops his work bag on the floor as the big palm of his hand slides onto your back. he pulls you close, not giving you the chance to speak anymore as his deep hungry kiss keeps your mouth busy. you manage to make at least the sound of, “mphh.. Kento!” when his lips pull back a bit. you can tell he’s trying to hold himself back, his jaw and shoulders feeling rigid when your hands feel over them. “couldn’t wait to get home,” he mumbles when his mouth detaches for a second — basically, yea, he fucks you pretty much the whole night or until you can’t take any more. everything he does is meant to please you; he thrives on giving you, his pretty princess, what you want, feeling fulfilled when he knows he can keep you more than satisfied.

sukuna

— “the fuck? a moaning audio? why would i do that?

— he stretches his jaw, the eyes on his cheeks fluttering a little eye roll. he speaks into the mic at a low volume, “baby if you miss being dicked down just say so…”

— “uhuh yea, keep pretending you don’t want it til you’ve got this cock in your mouth, right? stay put. i’m coming over”

output: no moaning audio. he gets to your place in 10 minutes (how the fuck he got there that quick you’ll never know). when you greet him at the door, mouth ajar in surprise, you can’t stop yourself from cheekily saying, “well, isn’t somebody excited?”

“i wanna know what the bitch who’s asking for an audio sounds like when she gets what she actually wants,” he cockily spits out as he looms over you by the still open door frame.

your eyes widen at his response but you can only stutter before his hand is suddenly holding you by your throat. he welcomes himself in, shutting the door behind him while you almost stumble back into your hallway. your hands instinctively reach to grab at the back of his hand around your neck. not even a second later and his other hand grabs one of yours, tugging it and placing it over the tent in his pants. his fingers sandwiched around your neck begins to squeeze and you accidentally sound out a moan. you can feel his sharp nails pricking your nape. his hand holding yours guides you into palming him. a dark smirk is on his face. “i’m fucking hard. do something about it.”

long story short: he rails you (on your bed, in front of the mirror, doggy style or just backshots in general— he loves pinning your wrists behind you and watching your tits bounce everytime he pounds into you. when you’re on top, he doesn’t even give you the chance to ride him on your own). “how you liking this, huh? sweet little slut. you like this fat cock fucking your stomach? isn’t this better than some shit tease through the phone?”

megumi

— his cheeks warm when he hears the words through the phone, “what’s that?” He asks though he knows full well what you mean (i think megumi would be a secret tumblr user).

— you carefully explain it to him. there’s hesitation in his voice when he says, “oh, i see…”

— alarmed by the way his voice trailed off, you reassure him that he doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.

— he replies with a slightly stammered okay and the call eventually awkwardly ends with exchanged ‘i love you’s and ‘talk to you later’s

— you feel slightly embarrassed for voicing your request but it’s not long before you forget about it. it was worth a shot.

— that night, while you’re snuggled up in your cozy blanket, you receive a single voice note from megumi with no message attached

— megumi blushes as he stares at the file he just sent, wondering if he did it okay. you don’t know that he jack offed and recorded not even five minutes after your call ended.

output: when you press play you’re immediately met with the semi-distant sounds of megumi’s shaky gasps and breathy low moans. it looks like he sent you a recording of the most interesting part of his session wherein wet stroking sounds are being picked up by his phone. there’s oftentimes soft whimpers that slip through, the noise of his bed covers shifting on his skin almost overpowering it when he gets more and more into fucking his hand (or whatever he’s slotting his dick through). you have to replay it a couple times to make sure you heard right—pride blooming within you when you’re certain he’s whimpering and mumbling out your name. his moans rise in pitch and grow more rugged the closer he gets to his climax. “a-ah… mm—hah.. gonna c-cum,” you can hear the strokes getting faster and the sheets being gripped tight. when he cums, he gets even louder, noisy staggering moans falling out his mouth. you just know his throbbing dick is thrusting up while chasing his high. when it dies down, you can hear soft panting and then the sound of his phone being picked up. there’s a silent pause before his voice comes through low and crisp, “i… hope you liked that.”

yuuji

— “a what audio??”, he laughs, “you’re kidding!” His laugh fades when he realises you aren’t.

— “wait seriously, you’re into that? like those audios on reddit or something?”

— (“… you know those?” you ask curiously.)

— yuuji gets flustered, he stutters, “i-i don’t—I accidentally came across them once. kinda freaked me out, ngl…”

— (“freaked you out?”)

— “yea, i dunno, never imagined guys to be doing that for a living. and i didn’t know there were girls who especially liked that.”

— (“really… well a lot of girls actually like that. but yea, i guess you wouldn’t really know, cuz you know,” you lightly tease.)

— yuuji rubs a hand over his blushing cheek, “you don’t have to keep reminding me that you’re my first…”

— (he always reacts like this and so you remind him again [you love reminding him], “sorry my yuuji, but you know, i love being your first, especially knowing that my competition is literally THE jennifer lawrence.”)

— you can hear the smile yuuji is trying to keep down, “and your 100x better than her,” (honestly, you just tease him to hear him say this again)

— (“so what about that audio?”)

— “hm?” yuuji didn’t even realize it until now that he’s got a hand over the boner jutting through his boxers

— you quickly reassure him that he can say no if he doesn’t want to. there’s a silence that hangs for a moment in the call, and when you’re about to say something again to dismiss the topic, he starts, “could you… maybe, talk me through it?”

output: you piece together that yuuji’s turned on. “are you… hard rn?” your voice comes gentle through the phone and yuuji grabs his dick stronger through the cloth, pushing his palm against it. he shudders, “m-maybe.” your voice sounds so good.

“are you…” you trail off, but yuuji knows what you mean. he quickly replies, “is this okay? you can tell me if it’s not, i-i’ll stop.” yuuji doesn’t want to stop but he’s stiffened his hand on his dick to try to stop himself from touching further without your consent.

there’s another short pause before you say, “mm, it’s okay, yuuji… you need help?”

“mhm,” he hums, instantly resuming his hand movement. there’s slight guilt when he clears his throat and says, “s-sorry our call kind of—went in another direction, it’s okay if you don’t want to. I can—“

your laugh cuts him off, “sweetie it’s okay. i’d like to help. we’ll hit two birds with one stone since i wanted an audio anyway.”

yuuji blushes even harder. “I… I’ll try to not… hold it in.”

you grin, biting at your lip as you lay in your bed with your phone planted on your ear. “Good… you’ll give me what i want hm?”

Yuuji’s breaths are beginning to tremble as he continues to rub himself to the sound of your voice. “y-yea, for you… i’ll do what you want.”

it gets more serious when yuuji finally takes his dick out his boxers and starts pumping it up and down; it’s almost fully hard. he loves it when you ask him what he’s doing, what he’s thinking about. his moans start off quiet but when you tell him you wanna hear him, his voice breaks and he lets a louder sound come out his throat. “can you imagine your hand as my hand, or my mouth?” you ask him. at this point your thighs are squeezed together and you can feel the wetness pool in your panties. this makes yuuji moan even louder.

after a couple minutes of this teasing dirty talk, yuuji can’t take it anymore and the needy words, “fuh… i… i want to see you. c-can i?” slip out of his mouth.

it turns into a video call after the both of you move to transfer to your laptops. you can see yuuji’s tip peeking from the bottom edge of the screen. his shirt is on and it’s lightly sticking to his skin, likely because he’s starting to sweat. when you turn on your camera, your pretty face comes into view and you’re in the usual clothes you wear at home: loose shirt, no bra, panties. you can instantly tell yuuji’s back to jerking himself, though you can’t see his whole hand or his face at all.

“let me see you, sweetie,” you say, hand digging between your sticking thighs and going over your clothed crotch.

his movement slows, “shit, you wanna see me?” he sounds embarrassed. you nod. yuuji is obviously reluctant, but he listens, repositioning his laptop further so it captures his face and dick in hand. you feel yourself throb at the sight.

it isn’t long before you’re touching your bare pussy in front of the camera, tits out on display. you’re lewd and so is yuuji, now more confidently moaning as he pleases himself to you. between your own sounds, you softly say, “gosh my pretty baby. you’re doing so well,” knowing how your boyfriend is secretly a sucker for praise. yuuji groans, body jerking as his face flushes even redder. “will you come for me?” you say. you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.

yuuji’s a moaning needy mess, the hand not on his dick pinning the hem of his shirt high up. “fuugh… y-yes… yes for you. I’ll come… i’m about to—about… agh—“

yuuji’s hand pumps the tip fast and he cums strongly, head bowing as his hips thrust up and he shoots white. “Ah~ oh~,” he’s shaky and noisy all the way through his high. when he finally lifts his head up to look at you, you’re sweetly smiling (you came watching him cum but he missed it ://). you stare at one another for a moment before the both of you let out (somewhat nervous) laughter.

yuuji pats sweat off his forehead with the back of his clean hand, careful not to have the other covered in his own cum go near his bed sheets. “gosh, you’re good. i’m so lucky to have you.”

you beam. “and i’m so lucky to have such a pretty, handsome boyfriend. you did great.”

he shyly looks away, biting on his lip to suppress a smile, “thank you.”

inumaki

— you text him asking for a moaning audio (unless u want inumaki to go tuna tuna at u on call lmao)

— “?”

— “how do i make that?”

— you send him a voice note explaining what kind of audio it is, making sure to tell him he doesnt have to do it if he doesnt want to

— “…”

— “okay…”

— “i totally thought you wanted to hear me in pain and i was… concerned.”

— (“??? baby pls no?!)

— “thank god”

— there’s a pause in the chat

— “i would send if i could.”

— (“wdym? if you don’t feel comfortable about it it’s okay maki”)

— “no… um”

—(“?”)

— “i don’t really get hard unless ur here.”

— (you stare at his message before sending an “oh !”)

— “yea… nothing else does it for me. sorry.”

— (you’re both blushing and stricken by his response. “no baby don’t be sorry TT you don’t need to do this. i can always hear you in person.”)

— “sure?”

— (“yes for sure TT”)

— “:p i’ll make those sounds for you next time if you really like them.”

output: next time you see each other, it starts off as usual. a casual date outside before going back to his place for nightly cuddles and eventually… that. it’s clear inumaki remembers you’re conversation without you having to bring it up. he’s nervous at first (he’s always been pretty quiet mostly because he’s mindful of using his voice), and you see it in his eyes. “just let it out okay? it’s just me here,” you whisper when you softly kiss under his neck, a little shy as well. soon, when you’re kissing, touching, and sucking him all over, his moans are tiny sharp inhales and whimpers rising up his throat; they come out somewhat muffled because of his closed mouth. since he can’t really risk saying anything, he’ll tell you that he feels good with a hand combing through your hair or a thumb caressing your skin. he’ll buck up into your throat when he cums, his mouth accidentally opening to sound out a breathier vocal moan. when you pull up, wiping your mouth after swallowing, he doesn’t hesitate to pull your face close, kissing you sweetly. you know it’s his way of saying ‘thank you. i love you.”

—— <3

a/n: wrote smth diff today (context: i usually write leon kennedy stuff) these are just my headcanons so i’d love to hear what u guys think! xoxo i had sm fun writing this hehe

also, can u guess who my fav char is? (it’s not the one with the longest part— mb that some are longer than others, idk how to stop smtms)

[hheaven-sentt]

blood and bone (II)

summary: you want to open him up like the bodies you're used to, and he wants to keep himself at an arm's length | leon kennedy x gn!reader

word count: 5k

warnings: gore, violence, language, panic attacks, child death, a bit of cringe, angst if you squint, death and dying, yearning and pining, probably incorrect medical happenings (again, everyone say thank you google)

notes: i thought i was done after this one but there's more i promise. i have written closer to 15k now, so be ready | ao3

one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s almost two weeks before you see Leon again. He left your apartment sometime before you woke up that night, probably escaping before it could get awkward. You pretend that you haven’t thought about it almost every second since, and he pretends it never happened. Both of you seem content with that.

“Hey, when you get a chance, can you see if Leon’s found anything about the mystery virus?” Rebecca asks one morning, spinning in her chair to look at you. You narrow your eyes in confusion.

“Why can’t you do it?” you ask. She smiles at you like she knows something you don’t.

“Don’t pretend like I haven’t noticed you’ve been avoiding each other,” she says, grinning. “One second he’s like your personal guard dog, and the next, you’re pretending he doesn’t exist,”

“He has his own job to attend to,” you say by way of explanation. Rebecca narrows her eyes at you. “He’s not my guard dog,”

“Just see if he’ll send us whatever he’s found,” she says. “He’ll be on site tomorrow,”

“Why?”

“Probably using it as an excuse to make sure you’re still breathing,” she teases. You hate the way your face heats up at the comment. 

“I’m sure he has better things to do than check on me,” you say, but you’re not as confident in that anymore. Whatever he was doing that night, work related or otherwise, was pushed aside to make sure you were okay. The entire interaction gnaws at your stomach.

Easier that way, he had said. What did that even mean? How could it be easier to pretend to dislike someone? You always found it easier to be on people’s good side, not make them assume you hate them. The thought makes you frown.

Sure enough, you catch Leon in the hallway chatting to someone the next day. He looks good, comfortable. Whether you intend to or not, you fix your hair a bit before approaching.

“Got a second?” you ask, interrupting the conversation. The woman looks at you with a narrowed glare, but you keep your focus on Leon. He glances between you and the woman before nodding.

He follows you to your office, where he shuts the door behind him. You can’t tell why that makes you nervous. It isn’t often that you’re alone with Leon, and the last time you were, you felt far too giddy about it.

“Rebecca wanted me to ask if you’ve found anything on our mystery virus,” you say, wringing your hands together. “I’m sure you would’ve sent it to us already if you had,”

He shrugs. “A few leads here and there. I’ve sent most of it your way,”

You frown, your eyebrows bunching together. “Then why would she..?”

Oh. Curse Rebecca and her cunning nature. Your frown deepens. Leon seems to put the pieces together too, given the way he’s looking at you.

“Sorry to waste your time, then,” you say, looking at your shoes. “I’m sure your conversation with that woman was far more riveting,”

The words come out clipped even though you didn’t mean for them to. Your tone confuses you, like your brain is operating on its own accord.

“We were just chatting,” Leon says, taking a step forward. Your heart leaps into your throat. “Am I not allowed to do that?”

He’s smiling when you look up at him. It’s lopsided and teasing, and it makes your heart rate tick up.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you please,” you say, tone betraying you once again. So what if he pretends like you don’t exist, but then talks and laughs with a woman you’ve never seen before like they’re old friends? It has nothing to do with you.

“Are you…jealous?” he asks. The word comes out of his mouth like he’s mocking you, but you’re not sure he is. You scowl.

“No,” you say, though you’re unsure of how true that is. “Just apologizing for stealing you away for nothing,”

He’s full on grinning now. It makes your cheeks heat up and your insides churn. You hate whatever sickness he’s given you. Maybe you’ll call in sick tomorrow, just to be sure you don’t have a mystery virus of your own.

“I wouldn’t say it was nothing,” he says. “No harm in speaking to each other,”

You think there’s a lot of harm in speaking to him. Something’s changed about you when you’re around him. You’re unable to form coherent thoughts, unable to speak, and unable to act like he doesn’t affect you. You despise it, and despise him for making you this way. Maybe you caught a bug, a cold or something. That would explain away your symptoms.

“No, there’s not,” you say. “I have some work to do, but you’re welcome to wait around for Rebecca. I’m sure she’d have better questions for you,”

He nods, and takes a seat on top of a desk. He folds his legs under him. Your fingers twitch with the urge to reach out to him, but you refrain, and return to your work.

Leon makes it much harder to focus. He’s not even doing anything objectively annoying, unless you count his existence as annoying. Though you might; it’s definitely starting to feel that way. You can’t get through half a report without cutting a glance at him. Every now and then, he picks up a knick knack that’s made its home on your desk, inspects it thoroughly, and then returns it to its place. He does this several times, like he’s trying to dissect your brain without speaking to you. At one point, he picks up a picture of your family.

“Am I allowed to ask, or is that off limits?” he says, looking up at you for the first time since he sat down. You blink at him.

“I haven’t seen them in a few years,” you say. “They live in Oregon,”

He hums, inspecting the picture further. “You have a sister,”

“She’s two years younger than me,” you say, turning your chair to face him. “She’s got this big house and a husband, two kids and one on the way last I heard,”

“And where do they think you are?” he asks. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“They think I’m in Nicaragua right now, doing research on medicinal plants,” you say. There’s a distinct pain in your chest that radiates outwards towards your limbs. “I don’t have cell service there, so I haven’t spoken to them in almost a year,”

Leon frowns, setting the picture back down on your desk. “I’m sorry. That must be hard,”

You nod. “It is,” you say. “But it’s something we all have to do. It’s important to keep them at an arm’s length,”

“I know,” he says. “That doesn’t make it easier,”

“No, it doesn’t,”

The silence returns, but it’s strangely more comfortable. An itch blooms across your skin as you watch Leon. There’s something different about him, has been since you returned home. Sometimes, you find yourself thinking about the way his arms felt around you, and you almost wish he would do it again. For some reason, you think he would if you asked. It’s a working theory, one that has yet to be tested, but you’re nothing if not dedicated to science.

“I lost my parents when I was young,” he says, voice quiet even if you’re the only two in the room. “It’s not something I think about anymore, but I know how hard that could be,”

You feel like your heart freezes in your chest. Leon just told you something about himself, something that has no bearing on his wellbeing or the situation at hand. He’s being open, honest. You want to fling your arms around him and kiss him senseless.

“I’m sorry,” you say instead, your last bit of decorum holding you with two hands. “That must have been hard for you,”

He shrugs. “It was. But you learn to live with it,”

You nod. He’s watching you carefully, an emotion present on his face that you can’t discern. There’s a tension in the air, one that makes you nervous. You really want to reach out to him. You wonder about the way his skin might feel against yours. He’s all calloused palms, rough edges, and stunningly beautiful features. You didn’t even know people could be made this beautiful.

Rebecca cuts through the tension with her entrance. “Good, you’re both here,”

You blink away the interaction, hoping that it didn’t look as intense as it felt. “You need both of us?”

“Not really,” she says. “But it certainly makes my life easier,”

Rebecca bustles through the room, spreading a few pictures out on the desk in front of you. They’re all of ugly, mangled bodies. You wish she would’ve warned you before forcing you to look at them. All the bodies look more or less the same, and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference if it weren’t for a few defining features on each of them. They look eerily similar to the one you dissected a few weeks ago. Missing fingers, toes, noses, jaws. Skin simply falling off their bones and collecting into a sinewy pool beneath them. It makes your stomach churn.

“These are all bodies collected at different sites,” Rebecca says. “See how they’re all in more or less the same condition? We think this might be our mystery virus,”

You nod, inspecting the pictures a bit closer. Leon looms over you to see, too, invading your space. You’re almost never this close to him, and when you are, he definitely doesn’t smell this good. You wrinkle your nose.

“Do we happen to have samples?” you ask, keeping your focus on the images. “I’d really like to cross examine them,”

“Way ahead of you,” Rebecca says. “They’re in the lab right now,”

You hum.

“When and where are these from?” Leon asks, turning the picture in front of you more towards him.

Rebecca moves in between you. “This one is from a few days ago, found only a few miles out from where you guys were. This one is from about a week before that, and it was found about a day’s walk out,”

You furrow your brows as you take in her information. Those two are definitely from the same site, and one could’ve wandered off.

“And this one?” you ask, pointing to the decidedly grosser one of the three.

“That’s just the thing,” Rebecca says. “This one was found here,”

“Here?” you ask, spinning to face her. “Like, here here?”

She shakes her head. “It was found out in New York. Still too close for comfort, though,”

You nod, taking a closer look at the picture.

“What are you thinking?” Leon asks in a hushed voice. You hate the way it crawls across your skin.

“I’m thinking that we need to take a trip to New York,” you say, locking your gaze with him. He grins at you like you’re sharing a secret. You feel your heart hammer in your ears.

“I’ll give Hunnigan a call,” he says, keeping his eyes on you. You finally return his grin.

With that, he’s up and out of the room quickly, bustling past Rebecca, who turns her gaze to follow him out of the room.

“What was that?” she asks, pinning you with a look. You shrug.

“Just excited about a lead,” you say, though you know there’s more to it. You try your best not to let it show on your face.

You return to your reports as best you can. Your brain is still swimming with the prospect of traveling to New York. Before, you’d been out in the middle of Iowa, but now you’re much closer. Although you feel like you’re onto something finally, the thought of it being on this side of the Mississippi frightens you. You try to shake the nerves. Rebecca keeps a watchful eye on you as you hammer through as many reports as you can. You’re certain she can feel your giddiness rolling off you in waves.

Leon wants to go with you. For the first time since you met him, he doesn’t seem completely disgusted with the idea of working with you. It makes you smile.

“I know you don’t have a lovesick grin on your face right now,” Rebecca says, bringing you back to the real world. You wipe the smile from your face.

“I don’t have a lovesick anything,” you say, cheeks growing warm. “The only sick I am is sick of you,”

Rebecca laughs, full and wide, and you know she’s just teasing. It makes you feel like a child. You remember how you felt in grade school when you’d liked one of the boys in your class. He was funny and smart, and he never made you feel outcasted by your interests. Obviously nothing came of it; you’ve always been timid and reserved. But you remember those feelings fondly. They’re akin to what you feel now.

The thought is sobering.

“Oh my God,” you say aloud, mostly to yourself. Rebecca eyes you as you turn to face her. “I have a fucking crush on Leon Kennedy,”

Rebecca sets her mouth into a line, attempting in earnest to withhold a laugh. “I could’ve told you that,”

You put your face in your hands to save yourself the shame of bearing your burning cheeks. You can even feel the spark of heat in the tips of your ears. Suddenly, you feel pathetic, weak.

“This is so embarrassing,” you mumble. You’re not even sure Rebecca can hear you through the muffling of your hands. “I might just have to quit. Run away and start a new life. Fake my death,”

This time, Rebecca does laugh. She stands and puts her hands on your shoulders, and says, “There’s no need to do all that,”

“What other option is there?”

“Everyone has a little workplace crush,” she says, giving your shoulders a squeeze. “It happens to the best of us,”

You fold your arms on your desk and plop your head into the middle of them. You can’t bear to look Rebecca in the eye right now. “I hate this,”

With a pat, she says, “You’ll grow to love it,”

You’re back in the building two days later, bag slung over your shoulders as you wait on the helipad for Leon. You’re bouncing on your heels and shifting your weight between your feet as you anxiously await his arrival. You haven’t seen him since your little revelation, and the thought of spending who knows how much time alone with him is making you nervous. You smooth a hand over your hair.

You’re an adult, act like one, you think, gnawing on your lower lip. This is your worst nightmare. Whatever hell awaits you in New York is nothing compared to the churning of your stomach now.

Leon bursts through the door to the roof, jogging to meet you at the helicopter. “Sorry, I was running a bit behind,”

“You’re lucky we didn’t leave without you,” you quip, the corners of your mouth turning upward slightly.

“Good luck with that,” he says.

It’s only a few minutes until you’re up in the air. You’re hyper aware of the way your shoulder brushes his every few seconds with each jostle of the vehicle. You’re also aware of your breathing. Is it too fast? Too slow? Are you inhaling often enough? You feel like you’re pretending to be a person and this is your first day on the job. You wish you could go back to the cold indifference of before.

It’s almost two hours later when you finally touch down. In that time, you could’ve watched a movie and maybe started another one. Instead, you spent the time holding your breath and giving clipped responses whenever Leon asked if you were okay. The nerves are definitely getting to you. You feel your eye twitch.

You’re at another makeshift pop-up site. There’s a few tents scattered around, a lone porta-potty that makes you cringe, and a group of people awaiting your arrival.

“Listen,” Leon says, hand circling your elbow to keep you rooted in place. “I know you’re used to doing the grunt work, but you’re our star player right now. They’re going to want to talk to you,”

You frown. “Can’t you do it for me?”

Leon grins at you. “I don’t have that brain of yours,”

With a sigh, you nod. He releases your arm, and you sling your bag over your shoulder. The group contains four men and one woman, all of which look equally as intimidating. You feel out of place. These people are former cops, ex-military, and trained to shoot with their eyes closed. You just happened to know how to stitch people closed and read too much about medicine in your free time. The playing field was anything but level, and you were the one going uphill.

You approach them carefully, paying attention to how they react to you. They don’t move much, save for their eyes watching the way you shift on the balls of your feet as you come to stand in front of them.

“Glad you could make it,” the woman says. “We’ve been falling over ourselves trying to figure this out. We hope you can help us,”

You nod. “I intend to,”

There’s not much conversation after that. They lead you to a small tent that’s been set up. Your own workstation. You’ve never had one like this before. Usually, you pick a spot that’s been unclaimed until your arrival, and you only ever use it for injuries. Now, though, you were going to do real work. It almost excited you.

“I’m sure it’s probably different from what you’re used to,” the woman says, having followed you into the tent. You turn to consider her.

“Not really, honestly,” you say, shrugging. “It is nice to have my own space, though,”

She smiles. “We’ve been told you’re not usually ahead on cases, so I hope you know what you’re doing,”

You tilt your chin up a bit higher when you say, “I’m more than capable of handling it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have accepted my help,”

The woman nods, then leaves you to your devices. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. She’s right, you’re not used to being a frontrunner on cases, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t figure it out. You shake the interaction from your bones as you begin setting up.

When Leon finds you later, he seems tired. You feel grateful that he did, in fact, do most of the talking, but you’re sure he’s exhausted from it. He settles down into a chair that’s been left askew in your set up process.

“I’d like to try to find one,” you say, not knowing how else to broach the subject. When you turn to look at him, Leon’s eyes are so wide that you’re worried they’ll fall out of his skull.

“No way,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s too dangerous,”

“I need to see how they operate,” you say. “We’ll never learn anything by studying their remains,”

He frowns. “You’ve learned a lot so far,”

“Not enough,” you huff, wringing your hands together. “I need to know what they do, what they eat, how long they live. I’ll never get that from a corpse,”

Leon grumbles, mulling the idea over in his brain. “There’s a thousand ways for this to go wrong,”

You smile. “You won’t let it,”

Leon comes to collect you the next morning. You’re clad in a pair of boots, an old pair of jeans, and a loose fitting t-shirt. You hope it’s good enough for whatever awaits you. Leon looks less than pleased to be bringing you along. He hasn’t given up his sour mood from the night before. You try to ignore it and the way it makes you feel.

You walk for most of the journey. You’re tailing behind Leon as he scouts the area, watching for anything that moves with ill intent. You’re not sure why. There’s nothing more than rabbits and deer where you are. It isn’t until you happen upon the ruins of what was once a small city that you begin to feel anxious. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but there’s definitely no going back now.

Buildings crumble around you. You can smell the smoke of fires that you can’t see, and the rotten stench of bodies isn’t making it any better. What was once asphalt is now gravel beneath your feet. It crunches under your weight with each step. It’s dystopian. There’s not a single sign of life, not even the chirp of a bird, for miles. Something lurches in your stomach.

You follow Leon towards the city’s center. There isn’t much happening, but there’s an air of apprehension. You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. You gnaw on your bottom lip.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement. Leon sees it too, reaching around to push you further behind him. It’s a person, with jerky and inconsistent movements, hobbling along the broken road. Your breath catches in your throat. Leon ushers you behind a piece of broken concrete, giving you the perfect view of your subject.

It’s covered in blood. You’re not sure of its origin, but you don’t think you want to find out. It’s in a similar condition to the bodies you’ve seen: missing fingers and nose, a jaw that’s clinging to cheek, and skin seems to just roll off the muscle with each staggering step. 

“I need to get closer,” you whisper. Leon looks like you’ve just told him you’re going to shoot yourself.

“Absolutely not,” he says. “You’re lucky we’re as close as we are,”

“I need to see it,” you say. Whatever pleading look is in your eye somehow works. You see some of the tension ease off of him. “Just..cover me, or whatever,”

With a curt nod, he shuffles back a step. You begin your crawl towards the creature. If it notices your movement, it doesn’t react. It continues its stumbling trek to whatever destination. You rise a bit as you approach, and this time, it turns towards you. You almost gasp, but manage to keep it within your lungs. It doesn’t have any eyes, just gaping, bloody holes where eyes should be. It’s wearing the pieces of a tattered dress. You hold your breath as it turns what should be its nose towards the sky like a dog. There’s a scent in the air that it catches. It moves with more ferocity in the direction of whatever it smells.

You turn back to Leon, who beckons you with his hand. You move to follow the creature. You wish you didn’t once you see what it’s after. The mangled corpse of a child stares up at you, unblinking. Her arms are twisted above her head, half eaten. She’s missing so much of herself. Your eyes turn watery as you turn and vomit on the concrete below you.

In your sputtering, you don’t notice the creature has now turned its sights on you. It approaches much quicker than you’ve seen it move, and you scurry backwards until your back connects with a piece of fallen debris. Your heart hammers in your chest as you try to collect your breathing. You hope it can’t hear your racing pulse or the quickness of your breath. Blood roars in your ears as it draws nearer, emitting a sound so inhuman that it makes you want to vomit again.

Two loud pops, and it collapses on top of your legs. In a panic, you kick it away, curling in on yourself once it’s been removed. You claw at your hair, breathing so quickly now that you’re sure you’ll pass out.

Leon’s in front of you seconds later, scanning you for injuries. You can’t breathe. You can’t do anything but stare at the creature and remember the corpse of that girl.

“Stop,” Leon says, pulling your hair free of your rigid fingers. “Stop. You’ll hurt yourself,”

You can’t even speak. You need something to grab. You grip onto Leon’s forearms with all your might. You’re definitely going to black out.

“You’re not going to black out,” he says, voice too calm for what you’re feeling and thinking. “That would be a real pain in my ass,”

Your breathing finally begins to slow, a pain in your chest radiating out towards your limbs. You look Leon in the eyes for the first time, and you feel instantly calmer. He’s here, he kept you safe, he’s helping you now.

“That’s right,” he says, voice low enough to be secretive. “I’m here. I’m here,”

You nod, mouth feeling dry. You’re babbling, thoughts coming out in words that you don’t even recognize. Your racing thoughts begin to slow. You blink hard a few times, trying to refocus. You can’t stop thinking about that creature.

“Eyes,” you say, voice hoarse like you’ve been screaming. Maybe you have.

“Eyes?”

“It didn’t have any eyes,” you say. Leon’s brow furrows in confusion. “Leon, it didn’t have any eyes,”

“Okay?” he says.

“Soft tissue,” you mumble, thinking. “The infection goes for soft tissues first,”

At this, Leon breaks out into a grin. “Good thing this trip wasn’t for nothing,”

“Bring it back with us,” you say, beginning to stand. Leon helps you to your feet. You don’t take your eyes off the collapsed body near you. “It was going to eat. It needs fuel. Not for the body, though. For the virus,”

Leon drags the body behind him. You’re not too concerned. It’s already so tattered and torn that any additional damage won’t matter much. It’s just too fresh to lose.

You arrive back at your site and lead Leon into your tent. He sets the body up on a table as you pull on a pair of gloves. You’re covered in dirt, so you’re not sure why you bother, but the thought of rooting around in the body with no additional layer makes you sick to your stomach. You get to work quickly, searching the body.

“I can’t believe I didn’t look for this earlier,” you mumble. Leon watches you carefully, like you’ll break at any moment.

“Look for what?” he asks. His voice is delicate and sweet. If it weren’t for the anxiety clenching your heart and the circumstances, you would kiss him.

“The stomach,” you say, cracking a few ribs. The sound is gentle, and the bones give way with little force.

You find the stomach after peeling back a few layers of muscle that have been reduced to almost nothing. It’s so thin and flimsy that you’re not even sure you could touch it without it disintegrating in your fingers. The innermost layers have been completely eaten away. The sight makes you giddy. A laugh bubbles up in your throat and a smile cracks across your dry lips.

The virus goes for soft tissues first. It eats them away. This explains the missing fingers and toes. It explains the jaws clinging onto life. Connective tissues are being corroded, which is causing the skin to slough off the bodies in pools.

“Oh my God,” you laugh, grinning so wide that your cheeks hurt. “Oh my God!”

Leon looks at you like you’re crazy, which you can’t blame him for. You’re clutching a half decomposed stomach in your hand and laughing like someone just told you the funniest joke. You’re certain you look crazy.

“I sure hope you figured something out,” Leon says, a teasing tone etched into the words. You laugh again.

“I think I did,” you say. “Let me close this up, and then I’ll fill you in,”

You make quick work of the clean up. You shuffle into a new pair of clothes after wiping the dirt from your skin as best you can. You find Leon, clean and comfortable, sitting in a chair in your tent. Your skin sizzles under his gaze, and you try to remember the events of the day. They’re tinged pink by his presence.

“Gonna tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours?” he asks, smiling slightly at you. “Or do I have to guess?”

You roll your eyes, sitting across from him. “I was getting there,”

You pull a few files out of a box from under the work table. You dig through them for a minute before handing them to Leon.

“What are these?” he asks, looking at you through his lashes. You grin, feeling giddy from your knowledge and his stare.

“Our virus,” you say, breathless.

Leon furrows his brows and begins flipping through the files. When he’s finished reading, he looks up at you, grinning like you’ve told him the greatest news in the world. He stands, rereading the file and pacing. You stand, too, mostly because you can’t sit anymore.

“You’re a genius,” he says, softly, sweetly. Your heart hammers in your chest.

“I knew I’d seen something like this before,” you say, voice a bit far off. “It’s been modified somehow, but that’s our virus,”

Leon discards the file on top of a cabinet. There’s a tension in the room now, one that makes you feel a bit smaller. You’re drunk on his praise. You want him to think you’re smart and funny and kind. And you want him to tell you so.

He approaches you quietly, soft steps entering your orbit. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Thank you,” you say. “For earlier,”

“Don’t thank me,” he returns, studying you. “But don’t ever do that to me again,”

Your cheeks heat up. You wonder, for a moment, if he’s going to kiss you. You want him to. You really want him to. You think you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything. Gently, far more gentle than you’ve ever beheld, he takes one of your hands in his. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, sending a shiver down your spine. You fight the urge to look away from him.

“Please don’t ever do that to me again,” he says. His voice is so soft, like he’s sharing a secret with you. Maybe he is.

“I’ll try not to,” you say, equally as quiet.

For a moment, there is nothing else around you. No stark white tent, no decaying corpses, no danger. Just him. He smells like cedar and smoke. His skin is so smooth up close, so perfectly crafted. His delicate features are so beautiful; soft lips, dimpled chin, round cheekbones.

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but hesitates. Instead, he gives  your hand a squeeze and takes a step away from you. You feel a stutter in your heartbeat.

Easier that way.

Easier at an arm’s length.

You’re not sure you want easy anymore.

[hoffmansgirl]

Honestly, I’m getting tired. It’s literally bts pics from a tv show. He’s not even playing Jesus in the show. People are just looking for a reason to hate him at this point and it’s really pathetic. I was not okay with him posing with those guys and I felt like people had a genuine reason to be upset with him, but I also thought double standards were rearing its ugly head again. Let’s get mad at nick for posing with guys dressed as Lyle and Erik but let’s like and repost thirst edits of Nick and Cooper made up of scenes from a show where they play … Lyle and Erik Menendez. People are holding him to a standard that other celebrities aren’t held to. He can’t do anything without people picking him apart and “canceling” him. It’s honestly annoying.

YES YES YES 🗣️ louder for the cunts in the back!

nicholas chavez is not problematic.

so. i actually feel so bad for him because it must be so hard. he's just gotten popular how long ago... a month? two? and people are trying to cancel him so bad.

he can't do ANYTHING without getting hate - first people started bringing up his love life - since when is it anyone's business? calling him a bop, a man whore. people are feeling way too comfortable nowadays.

next ━ "nicholas doesn't support the brothers", "he doesn't give a fuck" ━ how can YOU know that. he doesn't owe anyone a ny thing. he doesn't need to be as vocal as cooper is about it ━ as i wrote in here aaand here. i honestly won't even talk about it anymore after this post because it's fucking annoying.

the picture with the dicks dressed as menendez brothers ━ disgusting. i'm not gonna defend this one because well. he could have refused to take it. he's a grown ass man, for gods sake. although, as i mentioned before, he is HUMAN. he is LEARNING how to be a big star, what he should and should not do. let's not pretend we are all angels, bffr. we all make mistakes, and sometimes we don't even realise we do something that might be considered wrong.

now... the (hot) god damn pictures... can we stop being so sensitive and fucking annoying!!!!!! 😁 i saw that post and thought that he looks so good, the brat dance made me smile sooo much ━ then i saw the comments... he is not. mocking. religion. he is not mocking your beliefs or your god.

"cancelling" an actor for being an... actor is fucking embarrassing. i just have to laugh.

why is everyone so obsessed with this man, with everything he does? why are haters the first ones in his comment section? god, even i am not that fast and i'm fucking obsessed with the guy. come on... people just hate to hate.

and! surprise! he doesn't owe you an apology ━ if you're offended by the pictures ━ because it's just the show. people think he dressed up as jesus for halloween... do your fucking research. read the caption. stop harassing the poor man i swear 😭

in this house we don't hate on nick ━ of course he needs to be held accountable for the menendez brothers picture, no explanation needed ━ but nothing else.

it's kinda funny because my man is just working, being an introvert and people think he's a soulless narcissist.

i guess people just hate rich, popular and hot men that live their best life... i kinda feel sorry for them, ngl.

and one more thing before i finish... nicholas' love life. the insults i've seen online are so concerning. why are people so comfortable to comment on other people's relationships? why do people believe everything they see on tiktok or twitter? calling him a "man whore" is wayyyy too much. like let this man breathe around another woman? or have female friends? god forbid talk to another woman...

i don't want to comment on his girlfriend because... i want need her man, why would i even talk about her 😭 i have my own opinion but lemme just not...

woof woof i'm yapping. but yes anon, i agree with you. 100%.

and finally! if u wanna talk about it (or just talk about nicholas...) then my dms are open!

and remember!!!! to treat people with kindness ♡ 🫧

(celebrities are also people).

[anjelicawrites]

I think your Aegond poly should involve Aegon in a slutty maid outfit getting fucked until he can’t think but what do I know I’m just a whore :)

Sorry for the long wait, nonnie!!! And don't worry, I think we might share a brain on this one!!!

Warnings: p in v sex, anal, kissing, biting, oral (M and F receiving), tits pinching and slapping, edging and overstimulation.

This is not the way you expected this afternoon to end, not that you're complaining, after a grueling day at work!

NSFW and 18+ please!

You're working your hips fast, riding Aegon's dick with quick movements that make your breasts jiggle in his face; if Aemond wasn't fucking his tight, little arse into oblivion, you know his hands would be playing with your tits, instead, he's grabbing the rug, trying to survive the double onslaught on his body.

The pretty maid outfit he had bought on a whim, on his way home, is beyond repair, covered in dried cum and spit, the front rumpled down to his waist to make way to your hands, and Aemond's to pinch and play with his nipples and slap his tits until they're all red and puffy.

He had expected you and Aemond to react, as soon as you two arrived home to see him pretending to dust the living room, the short skirt of the cheap dress barely covering his naked arse, he didn't expect his brother to march towards him, grab him by the throat, call him a 'stupid whore', before kissing him passionately, barely stopping from biting down on his lower lip.

You and Aemond both had fucked his mouth raw, until he was grasping for air and still he kept your delicious cunt plastered against his starving lips. He had moaned and whined when you had roughly bared his torso and started attacking his chest with bites and hickeys, he had begged when Aemond's lips had wound around his erection, only to let him dangle over the precipice over and over again, denying him with a smirk.

Aegon can't scream, can't beg anymore, his body doesn't belong to him, it's yours and Aemond's to play with, he's just raw nerves being tortured by your perfect cunt and his brother's hard cock. He's drooling and crying when you both change rhythm, going even faster, bullying his body into coming and not stopping once he's painted your walls with his seed.

He squirms now and tries to kick the air, your weight and Aemond's strength keep him open to the newest assault, his cock raw, his prostate fucked brutally, his arse and cock your shared toys to reach your ends.

A smaller orgasm hits him when you and Aemond come at the same time, your honey sliding down his flaccid member, Aemond's seed seeping out his overused hole; he doesn't know why he's naked, what happened to the costume, not that it matters when he's the filling of his favorite sandwich. He's barely coherent when you gently grab his chin and murmur against his lips if he wants a supply of those same costumes, or if he has some other roles he'd like to play.

He's too tired now, he's going to make a list tomorrow.

[cvrnelians]

blue monday

dark!bucky x reader: People make mistakes all the time. As much as he loved you, Bucky knew that you were no exception to the rule, especially after telling him you wanted to cut ties. It was hurtful, sure, but everyone should be allowed a little slip-up every once in a while, right? Sometimes people just needed a little help correcting their mistakes, and help was exactly what he intended to provide. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he wasn’t there for you when you needed him most?

content warnings: stalking, kidnapping. this blog is 18+ only, minors do not interact.

hi everyone. if you think you've seen this story before, you just might've. this is a reupload. i deleted my account and all my fics. i was becoming really overwhelmed by all my WIPs and had a lot of unfinished stories and projects on hiatus. i'm going to be slowly reuploading my finished stories, and will only be uploading multichapter fics if i have them completed in advance. thank you for reading. 🖤 -rina

❄️

Deranged.

You had used that word with him a lot these past several months. A lot. And he would never admit it, but for whatever reason, that—out of any and every insult you hurled his way, that one in particular—still stung.

Bucky didn’t understand it. Or rather, you didn’t understand it. It was you. You were the culprit. This was your fault, all of it. To think you had been damaged to the point of calling someone “deranged” for trying to love you, for trying to show you how invaluable you were…it was shameful, really. Didn’t you know how much it killed him to see you like this, so determined to shut yourself off, to deprive yourself of affection, to push all those thoughts and feelings and memories away?

To push him away.

And for what? To wallow in pain? To suffer so needlessly, to punish yourself for how you truly felt?

Stubborn. You were always so fucking stubborn.

But there were no two ways about it. You did, in fact, care about him. You always cared. Knowing you, you probably always would. Why was that such a crime to you all of a sudden? Why did your love for him now equate to some sort of moral failure?

Kindness wasn’t a synonym for weakness. It was startling. He thought you of all people should know that.

You used to.

You made a mistake. It was just a mistake, that’s all. Completely accidental. You hadn’t meant what you said, the day you tried to break up with him. You couldn’t have. You weren’t thinking clearly. Your family, your friends…they were getting into your head. Of course they were. You wouldn’t have ever come up with something like that on your own. He had tried to warn you about them. He really tried.

But again, you chose to be stubborn.

How did that work out for you?

At least once a week, if not more, he found himself saying it:

“You can’t carry all this weight on your shoulders forever, you know.”

All that crying, complaining, those moments where you pretended to hate him. At some point, you were going to have to let it all go. Otherwise, you would inevitably snap under the pressure, and by that point, he didn’t know if he would be able to put you back together again.

Bucky always thought you were a smart girl. His smart girl. But lately, you weren’t acting like it. Lately, you were acting like you didn’t have a clue what was good for you anymore. And so, he had to show you how much he loved you. Eventually, maybe you would start loving yourself just as much as he did.

Probably not, though. No one could ever love you as much as Bucky.

That was why he brought you here. Not because he wanted to exert control over you, or own you, or any of those sickening things you loved to yell at him whenever he tried to get close to you. You didn’t understand it. You didn’t want to understand it. Where was all that forced vitriol even getting you? You were only angry because you felt like you should be, because your family and friends would want you to be.

But how did you really feel? Were you really that disconnected from your own emotions? Were you really that far gone?

“Aren’t you lonely? Aren’t you lonely like that?”

He knew he could convince you to love him. And if he had to hurt you to help you, if he had to keep you here to make you see just how happy you could be, he would do it. He would do anything for you.

Sure, he could indulge you. Play your little game. He could let you try and escape, but that would almost be cruel. Seriously? Where would you even go? You were miles away from anything or anyone. Even if you did manage to stumble upon something, you didn’t know your way around Sokovia.

You probably didn’t even know you weren’t still in Brooklyn.

You’d come around one day. You had no other choice. You loved him, too. You always had. You always would. You promised him, didn’t you? All those years ago. You promised.

You did.

Bucky wasn’t one to break promises. He wasn’t one to go back on his word.

You weren’t, either.

Not on your life.

[giveafike]

TLDR: Halloween with your boyfriend, Ben!

Word count + info: 4.8k. Dialogue (conversation and azzie commentary throughout).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW but also...lwky PG 13. Suggestive themes, but nothing too NSFW. Mention of a burn injury and gagging in between (in a SFW way) so if that's something to put you off, read cautiously!

Azzie Notes ✚: YAYY halloween post! I couldn't pick what kind of blurb to write so...I wrote a bunch of mini ones! I tried something new, idk if I fw this format or not, you guys lmk honestly how you feel about bulleted posts.

ALSO! Stay safe tonight guys! Idk about you guys but where I'm from, Halloween can get a bit crazy or out of control, so whatever you do tonight, be responsible and sensible for this weekend! And happy Diwali to anyone celebrating - diye jalein aur mithaiyan chalen 🤭 bas khushiyaan hi khushiyaan ho (someone send me ukadiche modak PUHLEASE) 🤍🪔

I'm literally writing this part on the train home from work lmao, I'm gonna get on my laptop and get the big story up too, idk why it didn't upload yday but it's not here in my drafts or scheduled anymore! I'll figure it out tho dw.

Socials + Updates: twitter ( @azziegivesafike)

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Halloween'ing - B.T.S.

It must've been the very first time Ben was home for a holiday that wasn't Christmas or New Year's and God, were you excited.

Sure, losing in Paris sucked but the amount of time you could spend and things you could do together was exhilarating. You were practically buzzing off of the walls with ideas.

Halloween wasn't something you had given much care or notice to since your childhood, but now there was a whole new rush of activities and warmth surrounding the beautiful season, something you welcomed warmly.

how many homemade treats you could make, pumpkin carving with Ben, maybe even dress up together as a couple...

Ben was more eager about the idea of candy (and you in a sexy Halloween costume)

You could drone on and on about how good those Trader Joe Pumpkin Spice cookies were, you never expected yourself to fall for the Pumpkin Spice craze but here you were, talking Ben's ear off.

He rolled his eyes pretending to be nonchalant

even though he'd be reaching for another cookie within a few minutes.

"Just need to check they're not poisoned...are these laced with sumn'?"

A couple of days later, when you and Ben got back from the pumpkin patch, you laid out your carving kit on the island, practically jumping to get stuck in.

Was far from picture-perfect though.

Ben's kryptonite was the damn pumpkin from the get-go.

His shoulders are up to his ears as he leans over his pumpkin, cautiously poking at the hollowed-out insides with a look of pure dread.

You’ve literally provided him with every scooper and tool imaginable, trying to make this as clean as possible, but he’s still staring into the pumpkin like it’s some kind of orange horror show.

He holds his breath, then takes a tentative scoop, immediately gagging at the smell.

“Oh my god…babe, it’s like-” he shudders, hand over his nose, “like mouldy socks and old food had a baby.”

His face scrunches up as he recoils, practically jumping back. “Nah, no way.”

The sight is so absurd you burst into laughter, doubling over as he waves his hands like he’s trying to shake off the memory. "It’s not that bad! See!” you say, holding up a slimy handful of seeds with a wicked grin.

He gags, shuddering and shuts his eyes.

You’re insane if you think this is normal. This pumpkin needs, like, a hazmat suit or something.”

He flinches again, rubbing his nose like he can’t get the smell out of it, even though he hasn’t touched it with his bare hands yet.

He's deadass wearing medical gloves for this.

“Ben,” you gasp between laughs, wiping a tear from your eye. “It’s just a pumpkin. You’re acting like it’s a dead possum or something!”

“Smells like one,” he mutters darkly, gingerly pushing the spoon back toward the orange insides, his hand shaking just enough to make you lose it all over again.

Took maybe like, an hour and a half for him to de-gut the pumpkin

each attempt is met with a new level of melodrama, and by the fourth scoop, you’re clutching your sides, actually having to pause because you can barely breathe from laughing so hard.

He manages to carve out some semblance of a face, albeit a lopsided one with stupid teeth and tiny eyes that look more befuddled than scary.

“See? Told you I could do it,” he says, though his voice is shaky as if he’s barely recovered from a traumatising experience.

Such a diva, oh my god bruh.

You take one look at the pumpkin’s wonky, wide-eyed expression and nearly snort.

It's giving that "dumb ahh pumpkin" TikTok trend.

It’s actually the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen.

“Ben, it’s adorable.”

“S’posed to be scary…”

You glance over at him, lips twitching as you pull out your phone, quietly queuing up that TikTok audio. You hold in your laughter as you film the pumpkin with the distorted “pumpkin!” sound blaring, then pan the camera up to Ben.

The look of stunned betrayal on his face as he realises what you’ve done is absolutely priceless, his jaw dropping before he tries to reach for the phone.

The video catches his reaction in perfect two-second glory, and you both watch it back, his stunned face paired with the ridiculous audio, unable to stop laughing.

As you clean up, (Ben finally taking off his surgical blue gloves and scrubbing his hands away like a surgeon) you set the pumpkins outside and place the tealight candles inside, smiling at your actually scary pumpkin and...

that dumb pumpkin Ben made.

It's cute though, side by side, in its own way.

But you can't spend forever admiring them, it's time to make the snacks for your movie marathon tonight!

It was Ben's idea, he had a list of candy to buy and was on popcorn duty but the real star of the show was gonna be the Halloween classic; candy apples.

You both set up in the kitchen, bowls and ingredients spread out, ready to take on the challenge together.

Ben eyes the setup, grinning and rolling up his sleeves like he’s ready to make a masterpiece, even if you’re still suspicious of his pumpkin-carving skills.

The air is still sweet from the pumpkin guts, but with the sugar and cinnamon in the mix now, the atmosphere feels a bit warmer and cozier.

"Just you watch,” he says, giving you a confident wink. “I can make these apples look better than anything you’d find at a fair.”

It's adorable seeing Ben so confident and yet so easy by your side, almost competitive in his ways but not actually challenging or pushing you.

As you dip the apples one by one into the pot of Ben's hot sugar syrup, the colours come out glossy and bright red.

He might be onto something, these are looking pretty good!

As you both move onto the 4th one, you hear a small sizzle, then a loud, sharp hiss.

“Oh—ow, ow! Damn, that’s hot as fuck!”

You grab his hand immediately, your fingers gently running over the reddening spot on his palm.

“Ben! I told you to be careful! Sugar burns like crazy.”

“I knowwwww, I know,” he whines, wincing.

You lead him over to the sink and run cool water over his hand. You can’t help but smile softly as you fuss over him, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles while the cold water soothes his burn, holding his fingers in your hand as you focus on the pained spot.

“You’re such a disaster in the kitchen, you know that?”

“Hey, I was just…testing the temperature, tha's all.”

You roll your eyes and wrap his hand in a small ice pack for a bit, lingering there in the quiet, the coolness of the ice melting away any sting, until his hand feels better and you’re ready to tackle the apples again.

But no sooner than you start, he picks one up-

idiot

eyeing it as if he’s about to bite down without a second thought.

“BEN, ITS STILL SCALDING PUT IT DOW-”

You grab his wrist moving the semi-hardened apple away before he injures himself more.

"Just testin' your reflexes" he mumbles, laughing a bit.

"Sure."

Ben stepped out to light your pumpkins on the porch doorstep as the sun set, smiling and taking a quick photo, admiring the silly tradition spent together.

The house filled with the scent of caramel, you and Ben settle under a pile of blankets over you both, a bowl of popcorn wedged between your legs, and an assortment of snacks within easy reach for a spooky movie marathon.

He went out for a bit to "go grab something"

only to come back with some stupid clown mask, hiding behind the sofa to startle you.

After you screamed and he apologised with kisses and cuddles (after minutes of laughing and mocking you), you dimmed the lights and settled in, starting with a classic slasher that sets the spooky mood right from the start.

It doesn’t take long for the jump scares to start, and though you brace yourself, there’s one moment that catches you off guard, making you gasp and clutch his arm tightly. Ben laughs, his hand sliding around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“Spooked already?”

“No! Not scared, just…caught off guard.”

Ben nestles his head against yours, finding himself kissing the top of your head, his arm around you as he rubs soothing circles on your arm.

He's doing all that to distract himself from the jumpscares btw.

Bc he's getting just as startled as you, if not more.

He completely zones out while watching and the jumpscares jolt through him, snapping him back to the movie plot, which then scares him even more - like, wdym there's a killer on the loose and he's literally right beside the main character?!?

But comforting you, in its odd way makes him feel comforted and safe too.

He can't help but find himself enthralled in all the silly traditions and festivities around Halloween just because it's by your side.

As the next one rolls in, he glances down at you and peppers kisses along your hairline, his lips warm and gentle.

Though you’re locked in and wrapped up in the tension of the movie, you feel safe and completely at ease in his arms.

Doesn't last long though.

As the hours creep into the deep of night it seems like the movies get spookier, creepier, and more disturbing, and his thumb rubs soft circles on your shoulder whenever a scene begins, almost instinctively comforting you as he whispers soft reassurances.

You can't even listen to what he's saying, your clammy hands gripping his arm as you squeal, failing to tear your eyes away.

"Oh my god, Be- BEN!! OH MY GOD!"

He just covers your eyes with his hand

"Ben, I can't see"

"Good, it's awful, don't watch this scene"

He feels super cool and smart for pulling that move out btw. “Just another day of protecting my girl”

By the time the credits roll on the last film, you’re tucked against him, drowsy, exhausted and a sugar crash hitting you as the remains of the candied apples and popcorn are strewn over the table.

He glances down, his fingers brushing your cheek, and tilts your chin up for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Still scared?” he asks in a soft voice.

“Maybe a little,"

“Good,” he murmurs, his smile warm. “Means I get to hold you all night."

What an opportunist.

It's the night before Halloween before you know it, the excitement of pumpkin carving, candied apples, and scary movies behind you.

Ben suggests a late-night drive!

"Let's see the decorations, it's a trip down my memory lane"

He's got that :D face going on, how could you even resist?

The air is cool and crisp as you both pile into his car, wrapped in hoodies and each other’s warmth.

Ben reaches over, like he always does, lacing his fingers with yours as he pulls out of the driveway, his thumb brushing soft, slow circles over your hand.

The neighbourhood is dressed for the season, with yards filled with skeletons, giant spiders, and strings of orange and purple lights that flicker in the dark.

Some houses go all out, with life-size ghost projections, speakers, massive jumpscare decorations and fog machines casting an eerie glow across the lawns, while others keep it simple with a row of glowing pumpkins along the steps.

It’s like Halloween magic has taken over, and the streets are a soft blend of shadows and a warm, festive glow amidst the golden leaves scattered all over.

“See that one? That’s where the Johnsons live. They’ve been doin’ that witch since I was like, I dunno, 10? Never changes. Every year, same decorations.”

Ben points out more houses, telling you which ones hand out full-size candy bars, which houses skimped out and which ones used to scare him when he and Emma were kids.

“You’d be one of those kids who scoped out the best houses before Halloween, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely. Me, Emma and my buddies’d race for the full-sized bars, but if we made it to Mr. O’Malley’s house last? He’d run outta candy and give us IOU's for his store instead. That was the jackpot right there,” He laughs, squeezing your hand as he reminisces.

You nod, listening as he goes on, getting lost in the stories, the way his eyes sparkle a bit more with each memory. He talks about the high school haunted houses, how his friends would sneak around, trying to out-scare the actors, and the endless piles of candy that took him weeks to finish.

How Emma wouldn't let him tag along with her and her friends because he was embarrassing her.

His voice softens as he describes the little thrills and mischievous moments, almost as if Halloween itself has this permanent spot in his heart.

He drives slower, letting the headlights illuminate the way as you soak in the charm of it all and the softness of being alone together.

You rest your head against the window, his hand warm in yours, the night stretching on in the glow of the lights and the quiet roads.

“Hard to believe I get to spend it with the love of my life this year,” he says after a while, glancing over with a soft smile, his voice is barely above a whisper.

It's almost like he was saying it to himself, more than to you.

You kiss the back of his hand, holding it there, feeling the warmth of the moment entirely.

As you drive past another house, one with an elaborate ghost setup and an old-fashioned lamp swinging like a haunted porch light, he points, chuckling. “Man, they’d have the best haunted houses. I’d be scared stiff. Now? Not so much.”

"Uh-huh, sure, Ben. I reckon you'd still get scared."

"We can pretend like I’m the brave one.”

“Oh, so you’re brave now?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Only when you’re here,” he says, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles.

"So cheesy, Shelton"

"And you eat it up every time" he quips back, smiling.

The drive back is peaceful, almost like you’re kids again, wrapped in an innocent kind of wonder and admiration that the holiday brings.

When he finally pulls into his driveway, he parks but doesn’t make a move to get out.

Instead, he rests his head on the seat, just watching you, studying you.

The moonlight catches in his eyes, and he gives you that sweet, sleepy look that’s filled with all the warmth and happiness you could ask for, both of you bathed in the moonlight together.

The next day is Halloween, and no surprise, Ben forgot to mention something:

there's a party...

and he said you're going....

"Ben, what the FUCK are we gonna wear? I don't even have anything remotely close to a costume and-"

"Victoria's Secret model?"

He gets a punch to the arm for that quip. He had that ready and blurted it out wayyyy too quickly.

Once again, he's an opportunist!

Can't fault him! Don't hate the player, hate the game or whatever those finance bros say.

You both end up going to a costume warehouse, which, to no surprise (except Ben's), is practically ransacked and has just a small selection left.

"Wow! These racks and shelves are almost empty!"

"Yeah Ben, it's quite literally Halloween day..."

"Oh, yeah..."

"yep."

By the time you make your way to the ladies' section, Ben’s excitement is borderline overwhelming.

He's tossing costumes in your direction, with each pick, his grin only grows, that voice of his thickening with each comment.

Bet you can't guess what kind of costumes he's looking at!

“Alright, babe, here’s what I’m thinkin’.”

He hands you a bag with a red devil outfit...

...which is basically a glorified bodysuit.

“This, or-wait, wait, wait…”

He reaches back and pulls out a barely-there nurse outfit.

“Maybe this? C’mon, tell me you wouldn’t look hot as hell in it.”

"Oh my god, Catwoman?! Baby...Catwoman! You'd look so fuckin' good as...wait what's this one? Oh! Or, how about a cop? It comes with handcuffs!!!"

He's practically blushing with several skimpy costumes in his arms, a gummy smile wide, and eyes massive like a teenager looking at a Playboy magazine for the first time.

“I was actually thinking… Fiona, from Shrek. The green body paint, prosthetic nose and all.”

His face falls in sheer horror.

He just stands there, slackjawed, like you’ve crushed his biggest dreams.

“Fiona…as in an ogre? He says the word like it’s filthy like he’s never even wanted to say it out loud.

“Yep! I could even add some fake dirt on my body, really make it realistic…”

Ben’s just staring at you, his face still frozen in disbelief. “Naw…nah, you didn’t just say that.”

He waves a hand up and down in front of you like he’s trying to wipe the thought from his mind.

“Babe, we’re supposed to look good, not…swampy.”

With a grin, you roll your eyes and you eventually head toward the dressing room, pulling on the first costume in his pile that he gave you to throw on.

Of course, it's a flirty Snow White costume; a corset with puff sleeves and tiny skirt, knee-high socks and a headband. When you step out, Ben’s mouth drops again, but this time with a grin that spreads across his face.

“See now that is what I’m talkin’ about,” he drawls, sliding a hand around your waist, fingers tracing the fabric. “Got me forgettin’ my own name…”

You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away. “Ben, it’s just Snow White!”

“Just Snow White?” he repeats, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m thinkin’ you’re the finest Snow White.” His fingers drift just a bit too low, making you laugh as you smack his hand away again.

Back in the dressing room, you slip into the next one, a green Tinkerbell dress that’s even shorter and lined with sparkles.

You don’t even have to walk out fully before Ben’s already there, grinning like he’s been waiting for hours.

“Look at you, my lil’ pixie…” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close, lips brushing your ear. “Darlin’, I don’t think I’m gonna let you wear this one outta my sight.”

“Are you even paying attention to the costumes or are you just looking for excuses?” you tease.

You're trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as his eyes practically undress you on the spot.

“Alright, alright.” He laughs, backing off as you return to the dressing room one more time to pull on the cop outfit.

His eyes roam over every inch, pausing at the handcuffs dangling from your fingers and the baton tucked into your belt, wrapped around your hips.

“Oh, hell yeah,” he mutters, his gaze darkening. He steps up, his hands back on your waist, fingers digging in a little tighter.

“You’re arrestin’ me, right? Pleaseeee say you’re here to arrest me.”

“You need to behave if we're gonna get out of this store with a costume for us,” you say, laughing as he tugs you closer, his eyes glued to the baton you’re tapping on his shoulder.

“Not a chance, babe.” He grins, leaning in. “Now, why don’t I go grab that badge of yours so I can behave just a lil worse…”

You shove him off with a scoff and an eye roll but that smile on your face deceived your annoyed expression.

You had a little plan schemed, all look you’d picked, your surprise masterpiece:

a head-to-toe roach costume with long, wiry legs, little antennae, and bug eyes on top.

You wriggle into the thick styrofoam costume, taking a deep breath before stepping out in all your creepy-crawly glory.

“Benny?” you call in a sing song voice, trying to keep a straight face. “Got the perfect costume.”

He turns, expecting another flirty outfit, and instead just stands there, blinking.

He’s completely silent.

A whole ten seconds pass before he finally clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

“…Nah, babe,” he says, voice almost pitying. “Nah, this…this just ain’t right. Not right at all.”

You hold up your arms and wiggle the little roach legs at him, the same way you wiggled in the Snow White costume.

“What, it’s not cute?”

“I- baby, look- you know I love you…” he starts, trying and failing to keep from laughing as he waves at you. “But I just can’t- I can’t even look at you right now. That’s straight-up trauma in a costume.” He finally lets out a snort, covering his face with his hands.

Finally, after giving him a good laugh, you change into the last one, the one you’ve both been waiting for.

It’s an angel costume with a touch of elegance: a top made of shimmering gold metal feathers that shine under the store lights, a golden headpiece that makes you look almost ethereal, and long, graceful wings. The skirt flares out in layers of white and gold, making you look like you’ve stepped straight out of a dream.

When you step out, Ben’s quiet, the devilish grin on his face replaced by something a little softer, his breath hitching a bit, his gaze a little more serious as he takes you in.

“Now this,” he says, moving closer, reaching for your hand. “This is somethin’ else, darlin’. You look exactly what you are, an angel.”

“Good enough for Halloween?” you ask, giving a little twirl as the golden wings glint in the light.

“Oh, way better.” He nods, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Cause I’ll be right there as your devil.”

He hands you the bag for his costume, a black shirt, unbuttoned pretty low, black pants, and, of course, dark wings and horns.

“We’re gonna make one hell of a pair.” His gaze drifts over you again, taking in every detail.

“Angel like you with a devil like me might just be our best look yet.”

From the look in his eyes, you know this Halloween party is going to be a night to remember.

He paid for the costumes of course, btw.

Only after making a million innuendos about you being an angel.

"Y'know I thought angels were pure, you can get pretty nasty when you-"

"Shut it."

"Yes, m'darlin' ".

As you approach the house party, the bass thumps in your chest, seeing all sorts of costumes around you, some faces familiar to Ben, childhood friends and college peers alike.

After a few shots, a couple of drinking games and slurred conversations, you and Ben melt into each other in the cramped living room, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, fingers dipping dangerously low.

His other hand slips along the curve of your hip, thumb grazing your bare skin, sending a thrill up your spine.

The dim lights reflect off your golden feathers, casting a halo around you, but Ben’s dark eyes are glued to yours, unrepentant, that devilish grin driving you insane.

How in character!

His lips brush your ear, his breath warm and his words slurred and heavy with a bit too much vodka.

“You’re… somethin' else tonight, y’know that?” he murmurs, words melting into the bass line, his drawl thicker, slow and dragging as he pulls you even closer.

“Got every guy in here starin' at my angel…”

You laugh, tipsy, rolling your eyes. “Pretty sure they’re all lookin’ at you, devil boy.”

He just smiles, his hands sliding lower, pressing you tight against him as he lets out a low laugh. “Naw, they’re jealous,” he mumbles, lips grazing your neck as he speaks. “Cause I’m the only one you’re gettin’ all worked up over…”

You feel the heat rising between you two, the music, the drinks, the dim lights casting everything in a hazy blur.

He pulls you in, tilting your face up, his lips finding yours, messy and rough as if he’s been waiting all night to feel your mouth on his.

His hand cradles your face, fingers slipping into your hair, holding your jaw, tugging you close as he kisses you like he’s been starving for it.

He tastes like dark liquor and something a little sweeter, and when you pull away, you can’t tell if it’s his lips that are wet or yours.

He’s breathing heavily, eyes locked on you, that stupid, sinful grin spreading wider.

“Wanna get outta here?” he whispers, voice barely louder than the music.

You don’t even hesitate, nodding as he takes your hand and tugs you through the crowd, your pulse racing.

His grip is tight, his eyes glinting with that familiar, heated look, and you can’t help but laugh as he leads you out of the house and into the warm Floridian night.

You barely make it to outside, stumbling onto the lawn, before his hands are on you again, pressing you against the trunk of a tree, his mouth crashing into yours. You moan into him, hands running over his chest, feeling the heat radiating off him even through his shirt.

“Oh, Ben…” you breathe, leaning back as he drags his mouth along your neck, nipping and teasing, his laughter low and husky against your skin.

“God, you’re perfect,” he slurs, mouth brushing up the line of your jaw as his hand slides around your waist.

You’re ready for him to take you right then and there, leaves crunching underfoot, your fingers slipping under his shirt, tugging it open just a little further when-

“Wait, wait, wait,” he mutters, pulling back suddenly.

His eyes are wide and hazy, his head perks up as he looks over his shoulder for a moment and blinks, his mouth twisting into a grin as he takes your hand again.

“Hold up. Got an even better idea.”

You blink, trying to catch your breath, utterly dazed. “Wha-…what are you talking about?”

He’s already leading you down the sidewalk, back towards the rows of decorated houses, each porch lit up with Halloween lights and pumpkins.

You stop dead in your tracks, your lips still swollen from his kisses, realising he’s actually serious.

“Ben, you’re not-no way, no shot.” You laugh, almost disbelieving as he walks up the first driveway, holding your hand and looking back with that same goofy smile.

No way.

“Trick or treatin'!” he says, completely earnest, already reaching for the doorbell.

He's looking at you all innocent, like he wasn't being handsy with you just 2 minutes ago.

You stare at him, utterly floored. “Ben, you’re seriously…you’re just gonna go trick-or-treating? Right now? Like this?”

“Hell yeah!” he says, as if this is the most normal thing in the world, shrugging.

“I’m in costume, you’re in costume…what’s stoppin’ us?”

Before you can even answer, the door swings open, revealing an elderly woman with a massive bowl of candy. She takes one look at Ben in his black wings, the gold feathers shining around you, and lets out a cackle of laughter.

“Now, I didn’t expect trick-or-treaters this age tonight!” she says, eyes bright with amusement as she holds the candy out. “You two are just adorable. D'ya need a bag, hun?”

Ben grins, holding his hand out. “Thank you, ma’am. I mean…Halloween’s all about free candy, right?”

His boyish cheeky charm works like a treat, even on the old ones. smh.

With a warm chuckle, she drops a couple of candy bars into his hands before handing him a bag before she waves goodbye.

Ben shoves the candy in, already heading down to the next house, practically skipping with that same childish grin.

“C’mon, m'angel, let’s go score some more!”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you trail along beside him.

The night takes on a new light, the alcohol still buzzing through you both as you hit every house on the block, each one adding more candy to Ben’s rapidly filling bag.

He grabs an empty trick-or-treat bag left on a stoop, offering it to you with a dramatic flourish, and before long, you’re both stumbling from house to house, holding hands and giggling like you’re kids again.

Ben feeds you chocolate in between houses, his eyes soft and a little drowsy, that irresistible grin plastered on his face.

The two of you wander holding hands, his devil horns slightly askew, his shirt still messily half-buttoned as you both talk in low, slurred voices.

Somewhere along the way, you both end up sitting on the curb since your feet hurt.

You both go digging through the bags like kids, surrounded by a mix of Reese’s, Milky Ways, and Twix bars.

“Still thinkin’ you’re too old for trick-or-treatin’?” he teases, popping a Snickers in his mouth.

“Fine,” you admit, laughing, leaning into his side. “Guess I can kinda see the appeal.”

He just grins, sliding his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in as the streetlights flicker above you, pressing soft kisses to your hair.

In the quiet night, surrounded by candy wrappers and the warm glow of Halloween night, you’re perfectly happy, just you, your devil, and a bag full of treats.

There was nothing sweeter than spending Halloween with Ben <33

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 31: No Matter What They Say About Us

Prompt: "It's always been you"

For the anon who asked: Awww I love your latest fic! Can I request an expansion on the universe? Can you write something with HR when the two come back to the XF in the revival? And maybe another round of water cooler gossip about Mr & Mrs Spooky once again prowling with allegations. Rating: T, wc: 1,723

(companion piece to: Let's Give Them Something To Talk About)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

Sitting in the HR reception area, his hands neatly folded in his lap, he’s taken back to 20 years ago when they were doing this for the first time.

Today is the day when they let the FBI know that Mulder and Scully are back together – not just as FBI partners, but as life partners. He hasn’t told Scully, but he’s ordered muffins – vegan, of course – to celebrate later. He’s even willing to share with other agents. If they play nice. He’s just too excited that this is happening. Again.

Scully isn’t here yet and he trusts her, so her getting cold feet doesn’t even cross his mind. Not until she’s ten minutes late, that is. His phone is quiet and he can’t help but worry. The secretary is eyeing him and he can’t blame her.

“Agent Scully will be here shortly,” he says, tapping his phone. The young woman just nods and pretends to return to her work.

He quickly types a “where are you” into his phone and waits for her to answer. This wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t gone their separate ways this morning. Scully assured him that she didn’t need him to come to her house to pick up the last few things.

Moving back into their house was a swift affair; she was leaving most of her furniture behind and it was just personal belongings that she was bringing over. Mulder would have personally carried over anything she wanted to have in the house. All he wants – and needs – is her.

“Do you want to postpone?” The secretary asks him.

“No,” Mulder says quickly. “She’ll be right here. I promise.” He tries to give her another smile, but she’s already looking away.

Even HR isn’t what it used to be anymore. There are new forms to fill out. Back in the day, it was enough to just let HR know they were in a romantic relationship. Now they have to put it in writing. It’s going to be official.

Maybe Scully got cold feet after all.

Just as he’s about to postpone the appointment – if for no other reason than to flee from the secretary’s scary glances – Scully comes through the door, breathing hard.

“I’m sorry,” she says to Mulder and the secretary. “I know I’m late.”

“No problem, Agent Scully.” Mulder doesn’t question why the secretary is suddenly super nice. People can’t be mad at Scully for too long. He knows that feeling all too well. When the other woman disappears, Mulder turns to Scully.

“Did anything happen? I was worried.”

“Just traffic,” she says, but the way she’s avoiding his eyes, he knows there’s more. This is neither the right time nor place to probe. So he just puts his hand on top of hers.

“Ready to make it official?” he asks, hoping to ease the moment.

“Hmm.”

“Scully?”

“I’ll be right back.”

And just like that, she’s gone again.

Of course, the secretary chooses this exact moment to return. Her smile slips from her face when he sees Mulder sitting there all alone.

“You can go in now,” she says, trailing off at the end. “Is Agent Scully not joining you?”

“She is,” he says, walking toward the open door. “She just needed the bathroom.”

He hopes he’s not wrong.

*

They fill out the forms, Mulder glancing over at Scully as though trying to compare their answers. They match. They’re both entering this relationship on their own free will. Nothing about their partnership will change. Scully changes her address back to their house and it makes his stomach somersault.

His smile is goofy when they leave HR behind – their relationship once again FBI official.

“How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Scully says.

“I meant about having made it official.”

“Oh.” She chuckles, squeezing his hand. “Good. I feel good about us, Mulder.”

“Should I be worried about you being tired?” he asks as they make their way down to the basement.

“It’s just been a few long days. I’m fine, Mulder.”

He waits for her to say more, but she doesn’t, and the nagging worry in his stomach remains.

He can’t focus on work. He’s focused on Scully. She, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be worrying about anything. She’s wearing her glasses – a different source of distraction – and immersed in research. Their caseload is light at the moment. He doesn’t want to pester her; definitely not at work. They’re supposed to keep their romantic life out of the office. It’s just more difficult than he imagined.

“I’m going to pick up the muffins,” Mulder says, taking his coat. “Do you want anything else?”

“Muffins?” She looks up at him, her expression hungry. It makes Mulder smile.

“Celebratory muffins. Vegan chocolate.” They’re her favorite. He watches her lick her lips in anticipation.

“I love you, Mulder. In case you didn’t know.”

“I did know, but I’m always happy to hear it again. Give me ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” She raises an eyebrow.

“For you, I’ll make it five.”

He hears her laugh as he sprints out the door.

*

In the end, he’s gone longer than ten minutes. He stops at the water cooler, sharing some of the muffins out of sheer goodwill and joy.

He should have known better.

The other agents – all so much younger than him and Scully – treat him like a peer, smile, and thank him for the treat. As soon as he’s out of their sight, but not earshot, he realizes that some things never change.

Including gossip.

“Did you hear about Agent Scully?”

“No, what?” someone asks, their mouth full of muffins. Mulder presses himself against the wall. He knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop; nothing good has ever come out of it, but he can’t stop himself.

“I heard that she’s having an affair – with AD Skinner!”

“No way!”

That makes Mulder chuckle. He has to tell Scully that one.

“Yes way! There’s more. Trish will kill me for this but… she was in the bathroom with Agent Scully today and…”

And what? Mulder wants to scream, all the humor suddenly gone.

“Trish was washing her hands, and Agent Scully ran past her and then got sick.” Mulder hears gasps and he’s certain one of them is his own.

“Agent Scully is having a baby with AD Skinner,” one of the young agents says. “I feel almost sorry for Agent Mulder. Didn’t they just get back together?”

“I’m not sorry,” a female voice says. “I’d be happy to dry his tears and more.” A round of laughter follows and Mulder knows he’s heard enough.

*

Back in the office, Scully greets him with a smile, and once again, he’s just staring at her, struggling to return her smile.

“You were gone a while,” she says.

“Thought I’d share some of these babies.” It’s meant to be a joke, but she winces. He doesn’t believe any of the rumors he’s just heard. But he knows Scully ran out of the office earlier. He knows that she was late to their appointment and that she hasn’t wanted to talk about why.

The pieces fit together – even though they shouldn’t.

“Guess what?” he says, peeling off the paper from one of the muffins. Scully is already chewing on one, solidifying his theory. When has he ever been wrong about a hunch?

“What?” she asks with her mouth full, already halfway through her treat.

“I heard another rumor.”

“About us? Aren’t we too old to be interesting to these people?”

“We’re legends, Scully.” He’s grinning at her and it has nothing to do with them being water cooler fodder. “So, you and Skinner, huh?”

“Excuse me?” She looks like a chipmunk with her muffin-filled cheeks.

“Allegedly you and Skinner are having a sordid affair.”

“Mulder you know that’s ridiculous.”

“I know,” he says with a chuckle, “but you might want to dispel the rumor if, um… well.”

“What else did they say?” she asks, sounding decades younger.

“You weren’t alone in the bathroom this morning,” he says softly.

“Shit.”

“Is that- what the other Agent said. You’re not sick, are you?” He knows she isn’t. It’s a gut feeling. A hunch. Her complexion is healthy. It’s rosy. He’s seen her like this before. Once. Back then, he hadn’t put two and two together, and the next time he saw her, she was ready to pop.

As unlikely as it is - and Mulder can’t quite believe it at their age - but everything points to Scully being pregnant.

“I wanted to tell you at home,” she murmurs. “I’m not even sure that- Mulder, logically it can’t be true.”

“Have you taken a test?” She nods and it all makes sense. This is why she was late. He’s by her side in an instant. His knees will hate him later and into next month, but he’s crouching in front of her, his hands on her knees.

“Hey,” he says, making her look at him. “Guess there’s another meeting with HR in our future soon, huh? Disclose the new situation.”

“Aren’t you at all worried?”

“No,” he says honestly.

“Mulder, we’re old. We don’t know- there are so many things that could…”

“I believe in us. Yes, we’re older. This might be a crazy idea and Scully, I will be with you all the way. Whatever decision you make. How are you feeling? Emotionally? Physically?”

“It’s all just so overwhelming. I feel fine – really fine. Today was the first time I experienced morning sickness. I’m tired, but… I’m feeling good.” He smiles at her, relieved. “I made an appointment with my doctor for tomorrow,” she continues, glancing at him. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course.” He picks up her hands and kisses them, knuckle by knuckle.

“Why do people think I’m having an affair with Skinner?”

“No idea.” He grins. “Skinman is a good-looking guy.”

“You have the affair with him then.”

“I’m happy with what I have,” he says. “We’ll be the number one topic at the water cooler again.” He’s grinning, happiness flooding him. A baby. A second chance at all of this.

“You really think they care about us that much?”

“It’s always been you and me, babe,” he says and she laughs. No matter what will happen tomorrow, or the day after, whether there will be another baby or not, they’ll be just fine.

[barley-st-band]

hey does anyone know how we’re supposed to survive it all. asking for a friend

[devilsskettle]

my workplace is gonna have extended hours coming up so my life is going to be miserable for 2 months starting in 2 weeks

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”

[whoblewboobear]

Knowing that I have to go home after an 8-hour shift at the job I hate to force myself to deep clean the depression nest my room has become while neck deep in the same depressive episode for the past 3 months on top of chronic pain makes me wanna scream like can I just smoke weed and sleep on the couch instead pls?

[justinefrischmanngf]

i will be okay again and that is what matters

[catboywizard]

whelp.

[pepprs]

i do not want to get out of bed omfg. this week has been so fucking insane im exhausted but we have aprogram tonight until 7 and i have to facilitate and there are a million things to do today

[d2myg]

.

[aphroditestummyrolls]

You know that feeling where you’re so anxious you can’t breathe? Well, might I introduce you to: being so depressed that your chest has entirely caved in and your ribs are too heavy, but you still need to force yourself to work out tonight or it’ll just be another goal that you couldn’t meet.