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aubvrns · 2 days ago

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“Love Me Like I Do”

| MCU & Headcanons

Sypnosis — What their love languages are and the kind they want to receive.

Note — Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Agatha Harkness, Rio Vidal

(Female doctor centered, no pronouns used.)

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Wanda Maximoff

• — As the nurturing person she is, Wanda definitely shows her love through acts of service.

• — She’s an early bird and watches you sleep comfortably, knowing you haven’t been sleeping properly. She would tuck your hair lovingly, staring at you as if you’d slip away.

• — Even though you’re a doctor, she takes care of you nonetheless. Cooking for you when you forget to eat in the morning, or sitting on her lap as she does your makeup.

• — Sometimes you put all your energy into taking care of other people, you forget to take care of yourself.

• — She would also send constant messages. Both of you would exchange texts about your day, and she can’t help but glance at every notification. (a huge simp for you)

the hottest witch 👩🏻‍🦰

have you eaten, my pretty girl?

you forgot your phone, by the way

Y/N?

baby gurl reply c’mon

i’m worried, milaya

i know it’s your break right now, please reply

why aren’t you replying?

heyyy ☹️

oh wait

• — You were truly the light of her world, chuckling to herself as she charges your phone beside her as she finishes her mission reports.

• — Though because of your tight schedules, with her Avenger duties and your imperative job, it’s scarce to find time for eachother. Given that, she seeks for quality time.

• — It’s the simplest actions, honestly. Like when you go home early, having time to cook together. When you call in sick when she needs you, or when she has her full focus on her mission, knowing that you’ll be waiting for her when she comes home.

• — “Wands, I’m home!” You call, removing your hair tie.

• — Without a word, she instantly hugs you like a koala, burying her face on your neck, making you laugh softly.

• —Before you could ask her where your phone was, she utters: “It's charging.”

• — You secretly liked it when she reads your mind, especially at the littlest things that make it more domestic. She swayed your body as she hugged your waist gently, with your hands over her neck.

• — Amidst the chaos, knowing that you’ll come home to eachother was a greater comfort.

Natasha Romanoff

• — Natasha shows her uttermost love when she gives gifts.

• — Growing up, she and Yelena were spoiled by Melina often. Their childhood wasn’t like others, but Melina tried her best to give them a somewhat normal childhood. Up until now, she had grown to be very sentimental. Each and every gift meant alot to her, but even more when she’s the one who gives.

• — Natasha would give you gifts regularly, pampering you with things that remind her of you.

• — You would randomly wake up with your favorite flowers and chocolates beside you as she slept, light snores heard from against your chest.

• — “Tasha, what’s the occasion?” You ask, playing with her hair as she blinks away her weariness.

• — “I don’t know. Halloween?” She raspily whispers against your ear before going back ro sleep.

• — It was December and you adored her antics, appreciating every gift she gives you, especially because she sees how tiring it can be to be hardworking.

• — Despite it all, it still amuses you how she buys things that aren’t really necessary.

y/n mcstuffins

Alianovna.

Why on earth is there a kitten in our bathtub?

nat her gf 🙅🏼‍♀️

Hahahahaha um what the sigma idk ⁉️

• — Secretly, you discovered that her heart warmed up for physical touch.

• — In the toughest times, simple hug was all she needed. Natasha has always been independent. She didn’t was to be reliant. But with you, it was easy to ask for help. Especially when you were so warm and gentle with her.

• — “Are you mad at me, krasivyy?” She asked, fiddling with her fingers as you get ready for bed.

• — “No, of course not. But I would’ve appreciated if you would’ve told me beforehand.” You say as you coddle the kitten, laying next to her as she puts her head on your chest.

• — “Okay, I will next time.” Natasha said softly, feeling like putty in your arms that held her ever so loving. As the kitten purrs in between you, she, for once, felt contented.

• — Maybe the things she was always afraid of, was the things she needed. Affection, and cats.

Agatha Harkness

• — Okay, this blood-thirsty witch is so physical touch.

• — Agatha firmly believes that she cannot live without feeling you. She has to have her hand draped over your waist, or your lower back, or even the simple act of holding your hand.

• — At first, you didn’t see her for the affectionate type. But wow, did that change when she started growing comfortable in your presence.

• — “Hey, you. What’s wrong?”

• — With Agatha practically all over your personal space as she hugs you tightly from behind, “Nothing, my love.”

• — She admires your profession, regardless of how contrast it is to her wrongdoings back then. When she first told you about her past, you could only hug her, gently caressing her hair from behind.

• — When you would come home very tired, she would use her purple to ease your tense shoulders. One time, you fell asleep in her arms because she really set the comfortable sensual mood. She smiled at you lovingly, as she lays down beside you.

• — Though, she’ll never admit it was for entirely something else.

• — What she’ll admit though, is how she appreciates every gift you give her.

• — When she talks about her interests, you look forward to searching cute gifts online just to make her smile. The unexpectancy of it all is what makes it so sweet to her, knowing that she didn’t have much growing up

• — But with you, it’s like time hadn’t stopped. Her life had kept on going, knowing she had someone to wake up with everyday.

she who walks in the road

Okay, good news or bad news?

the road in question

Bad news? Is something wrong? I have surgery in 5, babe.

she who walks in the road

I might have blasted a cute rabbit of of fear cus to be fair it was on our bed, and now it’s limping like a dummy. I am so sorry. 🕊️

the road in question

Good news?

she who walks in the road

I’m hot as fuck.

seen

• — Okay, maybe she woke up on the couch the day after. But what matters is that she loves you, immortally.

Rio Vidal

• — Not the Death herself expressing her love in words of affirmation.

• — Being a literal cosmic entity isn’t the only thing she prioritizes, or at least wasn’t when you met her. In spite of her job, she was fond of exploring the world. That was when she met you.

• — She saw you crying on a bench, your tote bag beside you. Your hands were covering your face as you sobbed uncontrollably. It was late at night, and it was dangerous for a person to be sitting alone in the evening.

• — She approached you, asking you what was wrong. You tell her how you lost your patient. You kept on saying that if you could’ve tried harder, she would’ve survived.

• — “It wasn’t your fault. Sometimes, people die because it is simply their time. I can assure you, she lived a long life and went peacefully. You tried your best, and that’s what matters.”

• — And all of a sudden, you found yourself hugging her. Rio was shocked. That was her first time being hugged by a human being, or any being at all. It felt wonderful to be hugged, she wonders if this is what people live for.

• — She was so reassuring, and you trust her with your whole heart. She would compliment you any chance she gets. Knowing someone as beautiful as you, inside and out, deserves it.

• — Years of being together, exploring the vast world with her was nothing but joy.

• — It was either reading old poetry to eachother, or you saying names of deceased people and ask her what age did they die.

• —Though her favorite part is when she hugs you at night. It was just you and her.

• — She then searches on a digital screen about the certain action. Physical touch, it read. She was extremely fond of this physical touch thing. As she spoons you, you press kisses all over her face.

• — Rio tries to hide her blushing face in the crook of your neck, but fails miserably.

• — “I love you so much. I’m glad it was you who I met that night. Otherwise, I would’ve met you in another way.”

• — The witch laughs, rolling her eyes as she laid comfortably beside you. “I love you most and more. I am certainly glad at met you the way I did, mi vida.”

• — And you brought life to death herself.

milaya - darling

krasivyy - beautiful

mi vida - my life

congratulations - my love

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jakesyluslly · 3 days ago

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summary: you're going through a stressful time and you surrender yourself to sylus

𖹭𖹭𖹭

you were going through a stressful time. your mind was too full, you couldn't think clearly. your depressive mood was eating and draining you from the inside. maybe stress was normal, but you couldn't control it. at some point you couldn't even tolerate yourself. you wanted to do nothing, literally nothing.

you sat on the bed, wearing a thin nightgown that reached down to your knees. you pulled your legs up to your chest, put your chin between your knees and just stayed like that for a while. times like these came and went, yes, but it didn't make you feel good at that moment. besides, you didn't want to talk to anyone. yes, not even to him. you didn't want to overwhelm sylus with your problems, you didn't want him to have to deal with your problems when he already had enough of his own. you pretended that everything was fine, forgetting how well he knew you.

sylus opened the door slowly and walked in. he knew something was wrong, of course he did. he sighed when he saw you curled up in a ball on the bed. seeing you upset made him even more upset, you kind of set the mood for him. he approached you slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. ''sweetie…'' he gently brushed your hair out of your face, he wanted to look at you. he grabbed your chin and turned your face towards him, he could read everything in your eyes. ''i'm fine.'' you mumbled, but he didn't believe a word you said. ''don't expect me to believe you.''

he put his hand on your cheek, his thumb stroked under your eye. “if you don't want to tell me what happened, then don't.” he whispered. he took you in his arms and sat you on his lap, made you rest your head on his chest. “but let me keep you company. let me share your silence, your pain.“ his words brought tears to your eyes. all the emotions you had repressed were coming out. you were unable to speak, as if someone was squeezing your throat. ”sshh…” he stroked your hair, massaged your scalp. it was killing him to see you like that. he closed his eyes, lowered his head and inhaled the scent of her hair. ''you don't need to hold yourself back. let your emotions come out. you want to cry? cry.'' you felt his breath in your hair, his presence reassured you. you wrapped your arms tightly around him, you needed him, more than anything. you rubbed your nose against his neck and finally tears started to stream down your cheeks.

sylus held you tightly, rubbing soft circles on your back, stroking your hair. ''everything will pass. everything will be fine.'' he held you close to him, feeling your tears on his skin. you trembled like a wounded bird in his arms, and his heart trembled to see you like that. ''this won't last forever, my love. no pain is permanent.'' he continued to tell you what was in his heart. you were crying as you listened to him, but you felt yourself relaxing. it was as if tons of weight were slowly lifting off you. ''sometimes i feel so helpless.'' you murmured through your tears. ''i feel hopeless, a failure. i… i can't help myself.''

sylus listened to you carefully, pressing soft kisses into your hair. ''you're so strong.'' he whispered in your ear, you could feel his voice deep in your soul. ''you can't imagine what you've been through. you'll get through this, you'll overcome everything. but…'' he held your chin and lifted your head, looked into your eyes for a while. he stroked your lower lip with his thumb as he looked into your eyes, swollen and red from crying. ''…but you don't have to go through it alone. you're not alone. i'm here.''

he took your cheeks in his hands and wiped away your tears. ”i can't take your pain away from you, but i can make you share it with me. i don't want to see those beautiful eyes of yours crying with sadness anymore. haven't you cried enough already?”

you didn't understand his last sentence very well, you weren't sure what he meant, but you couldn't dwell on it. ''i will always hold your hand, no matter what.” he said, smiling softly. he took your hand and brought it to his lips, turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. you felt your heart soften as you looked at him, you were glad you had him.

“get some rest. sleep will do you good.” sylus was about to put you to bed when you stopped him, you had other plans. “sylus… can i sleep on your lap?”

sylus' curious expression was replaced by a smile, his eyes softened. ''of course, of course, my darling. come here.'' he took you in his arms, held you like a baby and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. ''I'll be here when you wake up, right next to you.'' he hummed a soothing melody to help you fall asleep easily, stroking your hair. you felt your eyelids feel heavy, your eyes were already hurting from crying. there was an indescribable pleasure in sleeping after crying. soon your body relaxed and you fell asleep in sylus' arms.

he kissed you from your cheek to your chin, his eyes never leaving you for a moment. “my most precious treasure. from now on i will be with you every moment, i promise.”

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sc0tters · 3 days ago

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What If I’m Cold? | Mat Barzal

summary: when one winter night gets a little cold, Mat has the perfect solution to help you fall asleep.

requested: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, oral (fem receiving!) unprotected p in v, cock warming, swearing.

word count: 2.31k

authors note: merry Christmas to all those celebrating! I really did want to get something out for him for Christmas and I gave up on a different idea so we instead used him for another smut!

You hated the cold.

The different scarves and excuse to stay home and watch Christmas movies with your hot chocolate, couldn’t amount to the way you hated the cold.

Your body would freeze and it seemed that the moment the weather broke through the many layers you were constantly forced into, you were fucked. Most people loved how the snow made the perfect excuse to stay inside, and how the rain made a serene lullaby.

The summer was where you thrived, frozen margaritas and long days in the sun with picnics on the beach were your summer. But as you lived in New York, you had no choice but to suck it up.

That was how you ended up looking as if you were auditioning to be a cocoon with all the layers of thick blankets and duvets on top of you. The heat was as high as it could go without him fully burning up from next to you.

“Baby I can feel you fidgeting.”

The words made you freeze as you looked at the clock seeing the time on his bedside table reading 3:00 in red illuminated numbers “I can’t sleep.” You whined still feeling your cold feet, that hadn’t seemed to warm.

It made him smile as he finally opened his eyes “and what am I meant to do about that?” Mat blinked rolling over to face you.

Even after four and a half years of living together, the sight of your cold body in bed never failed to make him laugh as you really did believe that you couldn’t have enough blankets. His eyes felt as if they dug into your soul “I don’t know.” You batted your eyelashes as you let your foot settle between his legs wanting to warm them up.

It resulted in a high pitched screech that came from his lips as he almost jumped out of your bed “fuck me you’re freezing!” Mat yelled making you softly laugh.

The gesture was innocent as you let a giggle slip from your lips “‘s not my fault.” You grumbled watching him get settled back into his side of the bed.

There was this comfort that settled over you both as he let out a yawn “just try to get some sleep.” His voice was soothing as he watched you frown “can you at least cuddle me?” You pleaded letting out a whine as he remained silent.

“Please.” You begged, dragging out the E making him click his tongue “c’mere.” He mumbled moving the blankets up so that you could crawl into the space next to him. The move was quick as you weren’t going to waste any time, incase he hesitated or even changed his mind.

A snow storm had settled over New York in the late hours of the previous day, so as many cheered for the definite white Christmas. You were cursing the way the cold practically nipped at your soul “stupid snow.” You grumbled causing a laugh to erupt from his lips as he kissed the lobe of your ear.

His hands wrapped around the waistband of your pants. He always found it so funny that even with your hatred of winter, you loved those long Christmas pyjamas.

You softly nodded as you let your eyes travel to the picture on bedside table. It was a framed one of the two of you, grinning as Mat had convinced you to join him for a skate at the Rockerfeller Center. Oh how you laughed so hard that day as you could barely stand upright without landing on your ass.

Mat could feel that you remained awake, even as he tried to let his slumber consume him “what is it baby?” His voice way rough, echoing in your ears “I promise I’ll go to sleep soon.” You tried to brush it off, wanting him to not be tarred with the same lack of sleep as you.

But after all these years, Mat knew that you weren’t just going to fall asleep. In fact, you would happily stare into the abyss until the sun rose if you couldn’t fall asleep.

So instead Mat did the only thing he could as he let his hand grip at your hip “baby.” His voice was sweet as he peppered the side of your neck with kisses.

It made your breath hitch as you gripped at the pillow beneath you “let me warm you up.” Mat knew his suggestions were right as he felt you drive your body back into his.

You rolled over again, getting to look up at him as he smiled “you don’t have to.” You let your cold hands run over his collarbone, a purple hickey decorated the one “ain’t gotta worry about being cold my pretty girl.” Mat cooed as he tucked his fingers through the ends of your hair.

His words made your thighs clench together. He took little effort to get on top of you as he smiled “always did love these on you.” Mat confessed toyed with the buttons on pink pj top that was complimented by blue bows “but I know they are better off.” His voice was devious as he kissed you.

The feeling of his stubble was rough against your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to care as you could taste the minty toothpaste that he had used only a couple of hours ago.

You melted into his touch as he tilted your jaw getting more access as his tongue swiped across your lower lip as he pulled away, pressing soft kisses against your jaw and slowly traveled down your neck “please Matty.” You begged feeling his hands press under your shirt before he began to open the buttons.

Mat sat up to look at you as if he was admitting a statue crafted by the gods “can’t say no when you ask so nicely.” You propped yourself up when you watched him shimmy under the covers, making you realise that you weren’t as cold as you once felt.

The hockey player pulled your pants down, letting out a hum of praise as you lifted your hips to help him “always been my prefect girl.” Mat pressed a kiss against each of your thighs as he let his hand cup your cunt, feeling just how soaked you were.

As the anticipation got the better of you, you pulled the sheet up to see his tooth grin staring back at you “oh fuck-” you brought your hand up to cup your mouth as he chuckled “ain’t even done nothing yet doll.” He smirked reaching his hand up to tug on your arm.

You didn’t put up a fight as you nodded “you know that moaning helps you warm up.” Mat didn’t give you a chance to respond as he ran his tongue through your folds “god!”you arched your back driving your hips further into his hold.

His fingers soon followed suit as he latched his lips into your clit whilst he let his fingers thrust into your cunt “such a sweet cunt.” Mat grunted sending shivers through your body “all for me too ain’t it?” He smiled tugging at your hips.

You nodded as he went back to lapping at you as if you were his last meal “always yours Mat.” You moaned allowing your fingers to latch into his locks of hair.

The feeling of his facial hair against your cunt was a sensation that you had grown to love during the November months as the team always feel into a movember bet of sorts.

His hand slid up your stomach to your breast as he let your nipple roll between his fingers “holy fuck Mat.” Your eyes screwed shut as you pushed your head into your pillow.

There was a pornographic moan that left your lips as your cunt clenched around his fingers that made his cock grow hard as he let his tongue swirl around your sensitive bud. He opted to change to his middle and ring ringer as he could sense that you were close.

Your thighs began to tense around his head “I-i.” Your voice stammered as your chest heaved “I know sweet girl, just let it go.” His blessing made you pant and your body shook.

Mat curved his fingers into a come here motion as the movement of his tongue became needy, as if he was craved your release just as much as you did.

His name fell in a steady stream of repetition as you rolled your hips against his face as your vision grew dark with whit stars painted across your eyelids “so sweet.” He smirked as his lips left your cunt with a pop as he sucked at his fingers whilst he stared at dazed eyes.

A soft smile formed on your lips as your eyes traveled down his body, as if you took a mental image of chiseled torso all the way down to his bulge that popped in his grey boxers “still think I’m pretty cold.” There was cheekiness in your voice as the boy smirked “is that so?” He asked as you nodded.

It was amusing how after all these years the two of you never seemed to lose that playful joy that lived within this relationship.

Mat would have pulled you on top of him but the sight in front of him, was one for the sorest of eyes “still so needy.” He clicked his tongue as he leaned down with barely any space between you both “that’s the pot calling the kettle black.” You rolled your eyes as you placed your hands on his cheeks bringing him into a kiss.

His hips dragged against yours making you jump as your cunt was still sensitive “fucker!” You grumbled as Mat let his head drop to the crook of your neck as he laughed.

The boy left his head there as he focused on tugging down the waistband of his boxers “shit I need you so bad.” He nipped at your shoulder whilst he pumped the swollen head of his cock a few times “please baby.” Your nails scratched along his spine as he nodded.

His cock tapped your clit twice before he dragged the head down your slit as he placed his free hand next to your head, allowing him to prop himself up as he stared into your eyes “fucking hell.” Your hand gripped his wrist as he let his cock get swallowed by your cunt until pubic bone was met with your hips.

The way your walls stretched to the shape of his cock at an instant was enough to make him contemplate cumming on the spot “Mat.” Your voice barely broke a whisper as he nodded, beginning to pull away from you.

A mix of street and Christmas lights shone through a crack in the curtain as it hit the gold necklace that sat around your neck with the little M comfortable between your breasts.

The sight made him grow feral almost as he lifted your thighs wrapping your legs around him “you feel so good.” Mat cooed beginning to thrust his cock deeper into your cunt with the new angle.

Mat kissed your lips as you let out a whimper “just like that.” You whimpered sending him a nod as your lips hung open, lost in the pleasure you felt as he fucked you “shit.” The hockey players eyebrows furrowed as you clenched around him feeling his cock throb.

His eyes traveled down to see where your skin smacked against his as he let out a grunt “wanna hear you.” Mat kissed at your neck, sucking new bruises that were sure to leave a mark.

You let your lip get caught between your teeth as you let your hips grind against his, desperate to chase your high “please.” You nodded letting your hands scratched his back.

Mat continued to hit all the right spots as he let his thumb fall to your clit “just like that.” Your moans echoed against the walls around you as tears formed in your eyes.

Pleasure clouded your mind “fuck Mat so good.” You whimpered feeling your body spasm against him as your toes curled.

For Mat that was what sent him over the ended as his release shot ropes against your walls as his head rested on top of yours “that was so fucking hot.” You swore feeling him pull out of you.

Mat smiled as he rolled off of you, watching as the mix of both of your releases oozed out of your cunt “atta’ girl.” He pressed a kiss against your temple as you let out a yawn “finally gonna get to sleep now huh?” Mat asked as he lay down back on his own side as you let your legs shut whilst he used his hand to bring your pants up.

Just as the boy let his eyes shut you let out a sigh loud enough for him to look at you “what?” He asked seeing that your arms were clearly buttoning up your top.

You let your smile grow as you sucked at your teeth “what if I get cold during the night?” The silence that hung around you both, made it clear he was listening and had taken the bait.

His hands were rough against your stomach as your pants were pulled down just enough for him to move your legs open “you happy?” Mat scoffed thrusting his cock back into your cunt knowing that he was still hard and your cunt was slick with lust and release.

You nodded feeling him kiss your head “absolutely fabulous.” You clenched around his cock feeling him slowly continue to thrust his cock before he let it stop.

His fingers slowly toyed with your cunt as if he was coaxing you into your slumber“such a fucking brat.” He grumbled letting his legs entangle yours “yeah but I’m your brat.”

#amber writes fics #nhl smut #hockey smut #mat Barzal smut #hockey oneshots #nhl oneshots #may Barzal oneshot #mat barzal imagines #nhl imagines #hockey imagines

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 days ago

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Insecurities ~ Love That Burns

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST / EVERYDAY MOMENTS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1,870ish

Summary: You and Logan struggle with some insecurities.

Warning(s): talk of sex, non-con elements, mental health issues, ptsd, possibly triggering, please read with caution

Notes: Please share your thoughts! This fic goes with my series, Love That Burns! Please give it a read!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan had the whole week off, putting him in a great mood. That meant a whole week of solely focusing on you in whatever capacity he could. That also meant that he would have a hard time keeping his hands off of you. He woke up first, immediately pulling you closer, and began to press kisses over your open skin.

You moaned as you started to wake. “Logan,” you rasped, keeping your eyes closed.

Logan shushed you, moving to hover over you as he continued to kiss your skin. “Go back to sleep, princess.”

This wasn't the first time Logan has woken you up like this. And a good majority of the time, you were completely fine with it. But there was something different this morning.

Your past made your mind cruel to you sometimes. It seemed like the anxieties and insecurities were rising once again, ones that you had never told Logan about. Due to what you had to do to survive while you were homeless, sometimes you believed that you were just an object to fulfill men’s sexual needs. Logan never made you feel that way. You always felt special and important, never an object.

But the mind was cruel, and sometimes you couldn’t stop it. And as you lay, still half asleep, as Logan began to have sex with you, you couldn’t help but feel like an object. You knew that Logan was focusing more on your pleasure than his own, as he generally did, but your mind was making you feel like nothing to him. Like you were not his wife who he loved and cared deeply for, you were an object, something he only used to please himself.

Throughout the day, Logan couldn’t keep his hands, among other things, to himself. You never vocalized your internal struggles, letting Logan use you as to not make him upset. Your mind had you believing that if you vocalized what you were feeling, Logan would leave you. Though, deep down, you knew that was farther from the truth.

“Baby,” Logan smirked as you as you finished making the bed. “Wanna shower?”

Logan reached for you, moving to pull you into him, but you recoiled and took a step back. The moment you recoiled from Logan’s touch, he was on high alert. His brows furrowed as he immediately began noting the way your heart was racing and how he could smell your nervousness. And now that he had smelt it, he realized that he had been smelling it all day.

“Sweetheart–”

“I’m sorry. I’m fine. Let’s go,” your words were clipped and almost in the same breath. You weren’t looking at him as you grabbed his wrist, not even his hand, and began to lead him towards the bathroom. “We can shower together. I’m fine.”

Logan shook free from your weak grip. “You’re not fine. What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, still not looking at him. “You wanted to shower together. Let’s just shower.”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Stop sayin’ that, princess. It’s not fine. If you don’t want to do something, we’re not gonna do it.” Logan’s eyes went wide in realization as tears slipped down your cheeks. “Oh, God… Sweetheart. Did I… Did I push you too far this morning? Did I–” He cut himself off, swallowing down the words he needed to say. “Did you… Did you not want to have sex?”

“I’m sorry,” you collapsed on your knees.

Logan clenched his hands together, growing angry at himself for not noticing that you didn’t want to have sex this morning and he pushed you. He couldn’t get himself to get on the ground to hold you, not wanting to push you further than he apparently already had.

“I’m so sorry,” you continued to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Please, princess. It’s not your fault.” He crouched down in front of you, still keeping his space. “It’s my fault. I should have known.”

“No, I should have told you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I… I… Please know that I know that this isn’t true, but on bad days it slips in and I sometimes fail to not believe it.” Logan stayed silent, waiting for more of your explanation. “Because of my… past… I sometimes fail to remember that you want me for more than just my body… that I’m an actual person to you, not just an object… when I get in that mindset, it’s hard for me to stop you.”

“Is this…” Logan had to stop himself, afraid of his own question. “Is this the first time this has happened?”

“Logan–”

“Answer the question, sweetheart.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you answered. “No.”

Logan growled as he stood up and walked out. You cried harder, curling in on yourself as you couldn’t get yourself to follow after him. Apparently, your mind had been right, the truth would cause Logan to leave you.

But Logan wasn't walking out on you; he was trying to calm himself. He was angry at himself for not making sure you were completely okay with having sex and for ignoring the signs that he had subtly noticed all day. He let out a shout as he punched the wall, allowing his claws to go through it. He needed to calm down so that he could fix this and take care of you.

Suddenly, you appeared in the doorway, a sobbing mess. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “It's all my fault. Please don't leave. Please don't leave!"

Logan’s heart felt like it had been ripped down and crushed into a million pieces. You thought he was leaving you. That would be impossible for him to do. But in your current state, you couldn’t see that. He ripped his hand from the wall, hiding his claws, and took a step forward. Before he could even say anything, you had lunged at him. You gripped his flannel like it was a lifeline, though the heat of your hands was threatening to burn it.

“Please don’t leave,” you begged. “I’ll do anything. Be anything. I can’t--"

“Honey, I need you to breathe,” Logan’s voice came out as calm as he could. His hands hovered over you, too scared to push you farther. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“You—You aren’t?"

“No, I walked out so that I could calm down.”

“You're---You're mad at me?”

“No, sweetheart, never… Yes, I'm disappointed that you felt like you couldn't tell me no and that you think I don’t see you as more than an object. But I’m not mad, and I'm not leaving.”

“Can… can you hold me then?”

Logan didn’t waste another second in pulling you into him. “I need you to be honest with me when you're mind is doing this to you.”

“I know.”

“I hate that I… that I did anything without your consent. I never want to do that. Ever.”

“I know... I’m sorry."

“I’m sorry, too… We need to come up with a way for you to tell me when you're feeling this way. I can pick up the changes in your body, and I will not ignore them again, but I also need you to be honest with me.”

“I know… I know... I'll tell you next time it happens."

“Does it happen often?"

“No… not at all.”

“But it's happened before?"

“Yes.”

Logan pulled back and cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. “I love you, baby. I love you. The whole person that you are. Every bit of your brain, your mutation, your body, and your personality. You are more to me than some object and I will do whatever I can to get your brain to believe me.”

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. "Thank you, Logan."

“Always, sweetheart. Always.”

~~~

Logan had gotten used to his adamantium skeleton over the years, but it still didn't change the fact that sometimes he was scared that he could accidentally hurt you. Not just with his claws, but that he could hold you a bit too tight, or crush you during sex, or even just hit you a bit too hard in any of his movements.

The two of you were in town for a quick errand. You jumped out of the truck and came to his side. Before you could grab his hand to hold, Logan stuffed them into his pockets. A tinge of hurt ran through you, but you shook it off. Logan wasn't a fan of PDA, even the simplest of actions, though you were usually the exception. Not trying to think of Logan's rejection too much, you led him into the store.

“I got it,” he muttered, taking the cart from you.

Your head tilted as you caught sight of how tightly both of his hands were gripping the cart. The bar was threatening to give way. “Are you okay, baby?”

“‘m fine.”

You sighed, knowing that it wasn't worth it to push in such a public space. You made sure to get your groceries quickly as you could feel the tension radiating off of Logan. Once the two of you got back into the truck, Logan gripped the steering wheel tightly, where he would usually place a hand on your thigh. You tried not to take it personally as the tension grew in the truck.

Logan was quick to get out and gather all the groceries before heading into the house. You were even more confused and concerned than before. You found him in the kitchen putting the items away. You walked over and went to wrap your arms around him, but Logan tensed, causing you to reel back.

“Honey, are you okay?” You asked, clearly concerned.

“Fine,” he grunted, pulling away from you.

“No, you’re not. Talk to me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Do I… When we… When I…” He stammered. He glanced at you, almost melting at you stood there waiting for him to gather his thoughts with such loving patience. “When I touch you, do I ever hurt you?”

“What?”

“Like when I hold your hand or hug you or when we have sex?”

“Never,” you shook your head, stepping forward. “You never hurt me. Why would you think that?”

“It’s just… I’m stronger than you and then there’s my adamantium skeleton. I… I could hurt you so easily… Are you sure I don’t?”

“James,” you carefully rested your hands on his chest as you kept eye contact with him. “I never feel anything but pure love and safety in your touch.”

“But I—“

“You are stronger than me and your skeleton is much heavier, but the only place I truly feel safe is in your arms. You would never to anything to hurt me like that on purpose, I know it. You are always so careful with me. I always feel treasured by you.”

Slowly, his hands came to your waist, barely holding you. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, honey.”

“I don’t hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Never.”

He sighed and leaned his forehead against yours. “It’s gonna take me a minute to get out of this mindset, princess.”

“Take all the time you need. I’ll still be here.”

72 notes · View notes

ilovedinodino · 21 hours ago

Text

player 066

synopsis: Haechan came to earn money from some strange games and didn't expect to see you, his ex.

paring: player!haechan x player!reader

warnings: blood, fights, literally the same thing that happens in the squid game happens here

wc: 5259

Who haven’t seen season 2 don’t read it!

Haechan didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect some childish games to involve death for losing. After the first game, he was horrified and wanted nothing more than to go home, back to his friends and family. He was certain that during the vote, everyone would choose X—but how wrong he was.

Haechan glanced up at the scoreboard, silently praying that the remaining players would come to their senses and choose to leave this wretched place. He wanted to scream.

“Player 012.”

Haechan turned toward the crowd, and his breath caught.

“Y/N?..”

The boy froze in shock, unable to believe his eyes as he watched you stand there, hesitating over which button to press.

Haechan’s mind raced. Why is this so hard for you to decide? Weren’t you terrified after everything you’ve seen? And why the fuck are you here?

*Ding.*

The blue light flashed, and Team O erupted in cheers, celebrating loudly.

You had chosen O.

—

After the vote, they started handing out food. By the way, four people voted after you, and two of them chose O, which meant you weren’t allowed to leave and should to play next game. Haechan was upset and still couldn’t understand what you were doing here. He wanted to find you, but he lost you in the sea of green uniforms.

Grabbing his food, Haechan began walking toward one of the bunks. Then he stopped. You were sitting on one of the beds, quietly eating.

God, you were beautiful. You had always been beautiful, but Haechan hadn’t seen you in five months, and in that moment, he thought you’d become even more radiant.

Without hesitation, he quickly walked over to you.

You were eating peacefully when you suddenly felt someone standing in front of you. Slowly, you lifted your head, ready to say something to the stranger with number 066, but then you saw him.

Lee Haechan.

The same guy you had broken up with and still couldn’t come to terms with. For half a year, you had tried to forget him, but nothing worked. You thought of him every night in your dreams, before falling asleep, and even in the mornings. Constantly. And now, here he was, standing in this strange place, wearing a strange green uniform, right in front of you.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

“Haechan,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What are you doing here?”

You flinched at the question. What were you doing here? You didn’t even know yourself. You had wanted to escape somewhere far away from everything, and this seemed like a perfect solution—earning some money along the way didn’t hurt either.

“I came to win money, just like you. Is that not allowed?” you said, your tone cold.

Haechan’s expression softened, his heart sinking at your distant words. Still, he sat down next to you while you shot him a wary look.

“Do you need money?” he asked gently.

"I need to pay for my studies."

"You could have asked me."

"You?" You laugh. "You’re here because you don’t have money yourself, and you’re telling me I should’ve asked you? Besides, don’t you think it’s strange to ask for money from your ex—someone you haven’t talked to or seen in six months?"

Haechan falls silent. Technically, you were right. But he wasn’t completely broke—he could’ve helped you if you had asked. He was here to earn more money for his dreams, so he wouldn’t have to take out extra loans. And you were also right about the part with the ex, but Haechan didn’t want to dwell on that. It hurt too much.

"Why did you vote to keep playing? Did that old man convince you?"

You smirk and poke at the rice with your spoon.

"I didn’t want to go home, and the prize money was too small."

"20 million won is too small?!" Haechan stares at you in disbelief. "Aren’t you afraid you might die?"

"I’m not," you reply, avoiding his gaze, while he keeps looking at you intently.

"From now on, I’ll stay with you."

"What?" You lift your head in surprise, finally looking him in the eye.

"From this moment on..." Haechan’s eyes lock with yours. "...I’ll be with you," he says, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"I ran away from everyone to end up with you following me around? No, Haechan, I don’t need this." You start to get up, setting your meal aside, but Haechan grabs your wrist and stands with you.

"Let go."

"I’m not letting you go in a place like this. It’s too dangerous."

"I’m not a child, Haechan."

"I don’t care. You can do whatever you want, but I won’t even consider leaving you alone here."

You stare at each other for a long moment, his grip firm yet not forceful. Deep down, you know he won’t back down—not even with a gun to his head. Haechan had always been this stubborn.

Of course, you were just as stubborn, but the truth was, you were glad he was here with you, even if you refused to admit it.

—

After lights out, you were escorted to the next game. You tried to avoid Haechan, but it didn’t work very well. At that moment, as you climbed the stairs, he was right behind you. You hadn’t even noticed when he managed to fall into step behind you.

"Don’t try to run away from me, sweetheart," he leaned in and whispered in your ear.

You ignored him and kept walking.

"I heard that in the next game, you’ll have to carve shapes out of a cookie, so pick the triangle," he added casually.

You stopped and turned to face him.

"Where did you hear that?"

Haechan simply shrugged and gently turned you back around, nudging you to keep moving forward.

It didn’t feel like a game about cookies.

Somehow, you managed to slip away from Haechan and stood at the far end of the room, nearly alone. Like everyone else, you were surveying the space when a female voice suddenly rang out:

"Divide into teams of five."

Damn. This definitely wasn’t about cookies. You looked around, seeing how everyone began forming teams, scrambling to find people.

You spotted a group of men and cautiously approached them.

"Excuse me. I’m on my own—can I join your team?"

The four men gave you a once-over before exchanging looks.

"Listen, we need strong and smart people on our team..."

You didn’t need to hear more to understand their implication. They didn’t want women—they wanted men. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you turned and started searching again.

—

Haechan was losing his mind. He had searched the entire damn hall, and you were nowhere to be found. The thought of you being stuck with some random weaklings or sketchy players made his blood boil. You had to be with him—right now, no, right this second.

"Hey, want to team up with me?"

Haechan turned toward the voice and saw a guy around his age grinning at him.

"I noticed you’re walking around alone. I’m on my own too, so if you don’t mind, we could team up and look for more people together."

The guy’s wide smile seemed genuine, and Haechan figured it wasn’t the worst idea.

"Yeah, sure. But there’s going to be a girl with us. Is that okay with you?"

The guy waved his hand dismissively, his grin unwavering.

"Of course! That’s even better. I’m Hendery, by the way."

He extended his hand, and Haechan shook it firmly.

"Haechan."

"Nice to meet you! So, where’s the girl?"

Haechan’s jaw tightened as he scanned the room again, his frustration bubbling.

"That’s what I’m trying to figure out."

Hendery glanced at the timer and nodded.

"We still have time, so we’ll find her. What does she look like?"

Haechan opened his mouth to reply but suddenly froze. His eyes caught sight of you—standing just behind Hendery. But you weren’t alone. You were with some guy.

Without thinking, Haechan shot up and strode toward you, his sudden movements making Hendery follow in confusion.

"Y/N! Where the hell have you been?!"

You flinched as Haechan grabbed your arm unexpectedly, letting out an exasperated sigh when you realized it was him.

"God, could you be gentler?!"

"Gentler?!" Haechan’s voice dripped with frustration. "Where have you been? Why did you—" He cut himself off abruptly when his gaze locked onto the tall guy standing next to you.

The boy fidgeted under Haechan’s intense stare before mumbling awkwardly, "I’m Sungchan. Nice to meet you." He extended a hand hesitantly, and Haechan shook it reluctantly, his grip firmer than necessary.

"Oh! We only need one more person now, and we’re set!" Hendery exclaimed enthusiastically, his bright demeanor completely at odds with the tense atmosphere.

Haechan, however, wasn’t sharing in the excitement. His sharp eyes darted between you and Sungchan, while you glared back at him with irritation. Sungchan seemed ready to disappear under the pressure of Haechan’s silent judgment.

"I’m with you," a deep voice suddenly cut through the awkwardness.

All four of you turned to see an incredibly tall man with long hair stepping toward the group. His commanding presence left everyone speechless for a moment.

Hendery, however, didn’t miss a beat. "Perfect!" he cheered, practically beaming at the addition.

But Haechan’s attention was still fixed on you and Sungchan, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. This wasn’t how he imagined things would go.

—

Once the announcement was made to assign one person to each of the five games, the team gathered, exchanging uncertain glances.

"I’ll take Jegi. That’s literally the only game I can play," you declared, breaking the silence. The guys turned to look at you, and the tall man with the long hair chuckled, tilting his head.

"Alright, but who’s the strongest here? We’ll need someone for Ddakji."

The group fell silent until Sungchan nervously raised his hand.

"I… I think I can handle it."

Haechan was about to say something when you cut him off, pointing directly at him.

"Haechan will play Gong-gi!"

"What?!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"You’re practically a pro at it! Come on, don’t pretend you’re not." You nudged his shoulder, and he glanced around nervously.

"Really? We need someone skilled for that game," Hendery chimed in with his ever-optimistic grin.

Haechan sighed in defeat, muttering, "Fine, I’ll do it."

"I’ll take Flying Stone," the long-haired man said calmly, crossing his arms.

"Guess that leaves me with Spinning Top," Hendery shrugged, still grinning as if this was all a casual game night.

—

*Bang.*

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the room, followed by the horrifying thud of bodies hitting the floor.

You violently, your gaze glued to the bloodied corpses of the first two groups. They hadn’t made it. They hadn’t been fast enough.

Fear surged through you like ice. What if your team wasn’t fast enough? What if you couldn’t hit the shuttlecock five times in Jegi? What if—

"Y/N," Haechan’s soft voice broke through the storm in your mind.

His hands gently landed on your shoulders, steadying you.

"Hey," he whispered, carefully turning you away from the blood-soaked floor. "Don’t look at that. Look at me."

You hesitated but finally met his gaze. He smiled at you, warm and reassuring, his hands still resting on your shoulders as if to anchor you.

"Everything will be fine," he said, his voice soft but firm.

You stood there, frozen, staring at him. Slowly, his calm confidence seeped into you, easing the rigid tension in your body. For a moment, all you could focus on was the safety in his eyes.

—

“Damn, we’re last. That’s sad,” Hendery joked, his tone light despite the tension.

Your team stood still as the staff locked the metal restraints around your ankles, the heavy weight of the game’s stakes settling in. And you were here alone. Only with another team.

The game began.

Sungchan wasted no time. Grabbing the Ddakji square, he struck with precision, flipping the paper on his first try.

"YES!" you all shouted in unison, voices echoing in the room as you sprinted to the next game.

"One, two! One, two!"

The second game flew by in a blur. The tall man threw the stone with ease, landing it perfectly before swiftly striking it back to the start. Another victory. You jumped up and down, cheering wildly as the group moved cautiously to the next station.

The third game was Gong-gi. The group waited as the guard placed the table and handed out the small stones.

Haechan’s hands were trembling. No one seemed to notice, riding the adrenaline high of their earlier wins, but his heart was racing. He sat down, staring at the stones as he picked up the first one.

Focus. Just focus.

He dropped it.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, gathering the stones again.

"Haechan, it’s fine! Don’t rush, we still have time," Hendery said from the side, his encouraging words meant to ease the tension.

But it didn’t help. Haechan’s hands shook even more, and the stones slipped again.

“Come on,” he whispered, frustration bubbling in his chest. He started over, but his nerves betrayed him, the stones scattering across the table once more.

Haechan glanced at the timer, panic surging as he realized how much time he’d wasted. He hadn’t even cleared the round.

“Crap, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I—”

"Donghyuck."

Your voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. He felt your hand gently rest on his shoulder, and he turned to look at you.

His face was drenched in sweat, his expression on the verge of breaking completely.

You didn’t say anything at first. Instead, you reached out and placed your palm softly against his cheek, stroking it with a calmness that seemed out of place in the chaos around you.

“You’ve got this,” you said softly, your voice steady and warm.

Haechan blinked at you, the fear in his eyes slowly giving way to something else—something calmer, more grounded. For the first time since the game started, his hands steadied.

“You’re okay, Hyuck. You’ll get through this. You’ve always done it for me, right?”

Something tugged at his chest when he heard the nickname only you used for him. Feeling the warmth of your hand on his cheek, Haechan steadied his breath.

He started again, his movements faster and more precise this time. One by one, he flipped the stones with skill, catching them all in the end. He slowly raised his fist to show the guard, who silently gave an “O” gesture.

“Success.”

Cheers erupted as you all celebrated, moving on to the next game.

"One, two! One, two!"

—

The last two games were grueling, but somehow, you all managed to finish with just five seconds left on the timer. It was a narrow escape, but an escape nonetheless.

Now, back in the main hall, the atmosphere was somber. No one spoke as the weight of what you’d just been through settled over the group.

Haechan had quietly moved away from the rest of you, sitting by himself in the corner. His head was low, his shoulders slumped.

“Haechan, why are you sitting there?” Hendery asked, his concern evident as he got up and walked over.

The rest of you followed, though you sat a bit farther from him than the others.

“I’m sorry…” Haechan mumbled into his hands, his face buried in his knees. “Because of me… you all almost died… I shouldn’t have—”

Hendery wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a reassuring hug.

“Hey, come on now,” Sungchan chimed in, patting Haechan’s back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. After everything we’ve seen today, who wouldn’t be shaken up? No one could focus in a place like this.”

“This place is insane,” Sungchan added, his voice filled with frustration.

You glanced at him, noticing a cross on his chest. A quick look at the others revealed the same symbol on Hendery and the tall man.

But when your eyes dropped to your own chest, you realized you were the only one with the O.

“It's because of me that we’re still here...”

Everyone’s attention shifts to you as your words hang in the air.

“I voted to continue the game…” You glance down at your hoodie.

“Come on, guys, stop!” The tall, handsome guy says, trying to comfort you. “We all make mistakes. The important thing is that we’re still alive. Besides, you weren’t the only one who voted to continue. So you’re not to blame.”

Haechan, who had raised his head when you began speaking, watches you silently while you focus on your sneakers.

“By the way, my name is Johnny. I’m from Chicago.”

“Chicago? I was there once when I was a kid. Im Hendery!” Hendery says, introducing himself.

“I’m Sungchan!”

“Lee Haechan…” Haechan mutters quietly, and everyone turns their attention to you, waiting for your response.

Noticing the silence, you lift your head and hesitate for a moment. “I... Y/N...”

“Nice to meet everyone!” Johnny says with a cheerful grin.

—

The second voting began. This time, you were certain that you were going to leave. After such a brutal game, you were sure that everyone else would want to leave too. There was no other option. Could they really be this stupid?

*Ding.*

The blue team jumps in joy.

24 – 28.

What the hell?

Soon, the score is tied, and the red team starts to win. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Guys, why are you so boring? Let's all vote for the circle, okay?”

“God, this freak again,” you mutter to yourself after the guy with purple hair votes.

“Yeah, he's definitely strange,” Haechan agrees with you.

Fuck.

The last person went to vote, and the blue team won. They celebrated loudly while you, the red team, sat quietly, frustrated and angry.

"Let's see how they’ll celebrate when they all die," you turn at the harsh, blunt voice of Hendery.

"What?" He glance at you. "I just want to go home, and because of these stupid assholes, I’m back on the edge of death again.” Hendery kicks the floor and heads to the bed.

You all exchange glances, taken aback by this unexpected side of him.

“He can be like this?”

—

After the food was handed out, you left it with Songchan and went to the bathroom. You couldn’t stay there, you had no appetite. How could you think about food after everything you had seen? You walked to the sink, turned on cold water, and washed your face. The bathroom was empty, and you finally felt some peace. But suddenly the door opened, and Haechan stepped in.

"Why are you in the women’s bathroom?" you asked, surprised. Haechan smiled and replied:

"Women’s? This is the men’s bathroom, Y/N." You stepped out and saw that the door did indeed say "men’s bathroom." Haechan grinned and said:

"Didn’t you notice anything strange?" He walked to the sink and started washing his face.

"I didn’t pay attention to anything except the sink..." you ignored the fact that you were still in the men’s bathroom, since no one else was there except Haechan. What difference did it make?

"Are you okay?" Haechan asked as he wiped his face with his shirt. You slowly turned to him.

"I... yeah... ah, fuck, of course I’m not okay! How could I be okay when I’ve seen so many people get killed right in front of me? When my clothes are soaked in their blood? When I was almost killed myself? Who could be okay after all that? Only crazy people, Haechan!" Haechan stood in shock at your loud outburst. You both stood there, looking at each other, until you spoke again:

"Sorry... I just want to go home and live a normal life." You leaned over the sink again, splashing your face with water and wiping it. Haechan stayed silent, then approached you and gently lifted your face.

"Y/N, I understand, don’t apologize. I’m going crazy here too, from this place and these people. You saw how I almost got us killed? I lost my mind completely."

"Don’t say that, you didn’t do anything," you interrupted him.

"You didn’t do anything either, so don’t blame yourself for the first vote. Just calm down. I said I’d always be here for you, and I kept my word, didn’t I?"

You looked at his face for a long moment and quietly said:

"You haven’t been here for me the last five months."

Haechan smiled softly and stroked your face.

"It’s not about that now, Y/N. Let’s not talk about it."

"Why? Because you stopped loving me and left? Now you're pretending like nothing happened?"

"Y/N, it's not like that, and you know it. I never stopped loving you."

"Sunghoon said you didn’t care about me, that you didn’t care about our relationship. He said you found someone else…"

"Do you believe that jerk?"

You flinch at his sharp, cold tone.

"I..."

"You're still listening to him? I told you he's ruining your life. Didn't he make you fight with Karina? Why are you still falling for it?"

"I'm not falling for it..."

"Then shut up and stop talking about him. Everything he tells you is a lie, especially about me and our relationship. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. You know why we broke up, and it wasn’t our fault. It just happened."

You feel hot tears on your cheeks and start to sob. Haechan wipes your tears away and leans in to kiss them.

"Please, don’t cry. We... we’ll fix all of this when we get out of this game..."

You stay quiet, just looking at each other.

"Promise?"

"I promise." Haechan smiles, then slowly leans in to kiss you on the lips. Without thinking, you kiss him back. At first, it’s slow and calm. You place your hands on his neck, pulling him closer, and he moves his hands to your waist, doing the same. He presses you against the sink, and the kiss deepens and quickens. Haechan moves his hands from your waist to your hips. You’re running out of breath and pull away.

"Not here, Haechan…"

Haechan looks at you with dark eyes and slowly nods. He leans back in and kisses you again, but this time more gently.

"Oh my god, guys! You scared me! So this is where you disappeared to!" The door suddenly swings open, and Hendery walks in. You quickly pull away from Haechan and fix yourself, but Haechan seems unfazed that you were caught and quietly laughs at your reaction.

—

Third Game: Mingle!

Huh?

You were standing in a huge hall with carousel horses placed in the center. The host explained the rules while the five of you listened intently. After last night, Haechan stayed even closer to you, almost lying down next to you to protect you. Though you couldn’t help but wonder, protect from who?

The game began.

They spun you around so you nearly fell, but Haechan caught you in time. As you stood there together, a familiar voice echoed:

"Five!"

"We’re five!" Sungchan shouted, and you all ran to the door in a panic.

Everyone was scrambling, rushing to find their groups. You could’ve been left behind, frozen in shock, but Haechan held your hand tightly and pulled you toward the red door with the others.

5… 4…

The five of you quickly squeezed in and shut the door.

3… 2… 1…

Silence.

Standing beside Johnny, you peeked through the peephole to see the remaining players who hadn’t found their groups. Suddenly, you flinched as gunfire erupted. They were being executed one by one. You should’ve been used to this by now, but every time it left you frozen, unable to believe your eyes.

Haechan grabbed your wrist and pulled you close.

"I told you not to look. Look at me, only at me. Stay by my side, okay?"

You nodded quickly.

When the door opened, the smell of blood hit you like a wave. Red puddles spread across the floor.

"If people still want to play after this game, I’ll just shoot myself right here," Hendery muttered, walking toward the carousel.

Song began again.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“3!”

The lights flickered, and the room descended into chaos. People were running again, panicked and screaming.

"Sungchan and I will find another group. You three stick together!" Johnny yelled.

You stood frozen, watching your friends, terrified to let them go. But the two guys grabbed your hands and pulled you toward the yellow door.

You barely managed to squeeze through before the timer ended and the door slammed shut.

You rushed to the door, frantically looking for Sungchan and Johnny, but they were nowhere to be seen. You could only hope they were safe.

When you exited, two tall guys immediately approached you.

"You’re alive!" Hendery exclaimed, hugging them.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“4!”

The five of you looked around again when Haechan suddenly shouted:

«Go as a group of four! I’ll find someone on my own»You stared at him in shock, grabbing his hand.

«Are you crazy? I’m going with you!»

Haechan gently removed your hands and smiled.

«Y/N, please go. There’s no time.»

You shook your head, refusing, but Sungchan pulled you away by the arm. You tried to break free, yelling:

“Haechan, no! You idiot, don’t leave me! You promised to stay with me!”

But Haechan disappeared into the crowd. Sungchan managed to push you into a small room just as the door closed.

“No! Open it! Open the damn door!” you banged on the door, desperately peering through the peephole to find Haechan.

In the darkness, everyone looked alike, and with horror, you noticed someone who resembled Haechan. Right in front of you, they were shot. You stumbled backward, tears streaming down your face, and turned sharply to the others.

“What if it was him?! This is all your fault!”

“Y/N, calm down. He’s a smart guy; he must have found a group” Sungchan tried to reassure you.

“I just saw someone get killed! What if it was him?!”you cried hysterically, your vision blurring. You sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, until Hendery approached and carefully tried to comfort you.

“He’s alive, Y/N. It’s going to be okay,” he said gently.

You were on edge, unable to think clearly. The games had pushed you to the brink, and the fear of losing Haechan consumed you. The pain of him leaving you again mixed with the terror of the moment.

When the door opened, Hendery helped you stand. You rushed out, scanning every door, but there was no sign of the one you were looking for.

“Guys!” a familiar voice called from behind.

You turned sharply and saw Haechan. He stood there with an elderly woman and two men.

“I found these wonderful people, and they saved me...” he began.

Before he could finish, you ran to him, throwing your arms around him so tightly it felt like you feared losing him again.

«Hey, Y/N, I’m here. Everything’s okay.»

«Don’t you dare leave me again,» your voice trembled with emotion.

You lifted your head, pouting slightly, and Haechan smiled softly at your adorable expression, brushing his hand over your hair.

“I promise, I won’t leave you.”

“This is the final round!”

“Thank god” Hendery said.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“2!”

Haechan immediately grabbed your hand, pulling you close, and glanced at the others.

“Split up. Only one person is needed here, i can do it” Hendery said and smilled to you.

You and Haechan sprinted toward the door. He opened it and was about to step inside when you suddenly broke free from his grip. Someone shoved you roughly, pushing you aside.

A man dashed past you, slipping into the room with Haechan and slamming the door shut.

You froze, staring in horror at the closed door.

Haechan turned, realizing your hand was no longer in his. When he saw a stranger instead of you, his expression darkened with fury.

“Get out!” he shouted, shoving the man.

“There’s no time!” the man argued, resisting him.

Haechan said nothing. He punched the man in the jaw, then shoved him toward the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

The timer hit zero, and the doors locked.

Haechan stood motionless, staring at the door in disbelief. Then he heard gunshots.

No. No way.

"This is all because of you, asshole."

Haechan furiously lunges at the guy, punching him in the face.

"I’m sorry! I just wanted to survive! I accidentally went into your door!" the guy pleads.

"You pushed her! She was with me!" Haechan yells, continuing to hit him. But he suddenly freezes when he hears the guy’s next words:

"I didn’t push anyone, I swear! I was just running, trying to find someone, and I saw you were alone! Please, stop, don’t hit me!"

The guy covers his face with his hands as Haechan, still holding him by the collar, breathes heavily, staring him down. After a few seconds, the door opens.

Haechan immediately rushes into the hall, frantically scanning it for you. But you’re nowhere to be seen.

"Please, no…" he whispers, panic overtaking him.

A minute earlier.

You stare at the door in terror, watching another guy enter and shut it behind him.

You’re going to die.

You don’t even try to get up in the chaos around you. You’ve accepted it—this is the end. Is this really how it’s going to end? You didn’t even get to do anything with your life.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a hand grabbing yours and pulling you up. You stand and see Hendery in front of you.

"Hendery?"

"Quick, run! There’s only one door left!"

You spot the open green door, and the two of you dash toward it together.

There’s barely any time left, and you’re running as fast as you can.

4… 3…

No. You didn’t want to die. You couldn’t die now.

2…

Hendery pushes you through the door and quickly shuts it behind you.

1…

Click.

"Damn. We made it… I really thought I was going to die back there."

You sit on the floor, wide-eyed, staring at him. Hendery turns to you, his gaze softening.

"God, I’m so sorry. I pushed you too hard. I was panicking—we were so close to running out of time."

He rushes over to you, helping you up and checking for any injuries.

"I’m fine! Really, I’m okay. Thank you for saving me."

"You’re the one who saved me. If I hadn’t seen you, I would’ve died. But, wait… where’s Haechan?"

"Someone pushed me, and he got shoved into a room… That’s how we ended up separated."

"Man, people here are seriously insane."

You laugh and nod in agreement.

As Haechan gets closer to the carousel, he spots you standing next to Hendery. The moment you see him, you both run toward each other.

"Haechan, we made it! Hendery and I are safe!"

"If it wasn’t for her, I’d be dead! Some girl ditched me, and I was in complete panic!" Hendery adds.

But Haechan doesn’t hear a word. He simply pulls you into a tight embrace, breathing shakily. Then he starts inspecting your face and body, searching for any injuries.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did you fall? Did he push you too hard?!"

"I’m fine, Haechan. I’m okay."

With a sigh of relief, he hugs you again.

"Don’t ever leave me like that again."

“I won’t i promise.”

note: squid game doesn’t have the end yet thats why this story doesn’t have too…

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grapejuice32 · 23 hours ago

Note

Could you do Spencer + reader who is away fro work a lot and when she comes home with a few days off and important news to tell Spencer he has to leave before she wakes up because there was a case he had to go work

Make it work

Spencer Reid x reader

Notes: I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

When you woke that morning to the lack of Spencer's presence besides you in bed, you tried to push away the tears that stung your eyes. Obviously you knew that if he got the call from work, even on a day off, he would take it, it had always been that way and he was clear about that when the two of you first got together. It's not like today was an incredibly special occasion or anything, but it was one of the only days when you were not working and he had taken the day off of work to spend time with you. Your schedules were constantly clashing, with you being a rising star in the acting world, every opportunity to promote you new film was one you would take which at the moment meant you were currently travelling a lot for interviews, premiers, talk shows etc. You had only just come back to Washington the night before after a month of being away filming something new and you had taken the short 3 day filming break as an opportunity to deliver some important news to Spencer. He didn't know that you had anything to tell him, so you couldn't really fault him, after all, his role at work was vital and you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if you held him back from work while other people lost their lives because he didn't go and help out. And yet, you couldn't help the tears that lined your eyes, you felt pathetic you knew you could tell him over the phone, but you wanted to tell him in person.

You told yourself that perhaps they would be able to wrap up the case quickly and that he'd be able to make it home before you had to go back to LA. You sniffled and made you way out of bed and to the kitchen, a small smile making an appearance on your lips as you noticed a note in Spencer's scrawly handwriting on the counter besides a now cold cup of coffee he must have left out for you before he went to work. You picked up the note and couldn't help but bite your lip as a wider mile spread on your face at the sweet words.

Hi angel,

I'm so sorry I left but the team needed me on a case and I couldn't say no after I got given the details. I’m so sorry to leave you when we were meant to spend the day together, I hope you're not too upset but I'd understand if you were. Hopefully we can wrap up the case before you have to go and we can spend a bit of time together. I left you a coffee on the side but knowing you, it will probably be cold when you wake up. I love you, I'll try and give you a call later.

~ S

A sigh escaped you're lips, you weren't upset, disheartened perhaps but not upset. How could you be? There had been many occasions when you had be away for work when he got to have his weekend days off, and while it wasn't the same, travelling was a vital part of both your jobs and you were just lucky that the both of you were able to understand it and manage to make your relationship work even with the constant long distance time.

The two of you had been together for a year and a half and the majority of that time was spent apart, his team weren't really aware of you yet and you were okay with that. With the little time that the two of you got to spend together, going home to each other and knowing that you were both just each other's secret was exciting and strangely comforting in a way. Especially for you with so much of your life now being public, to know that you had Spencer, who was only yours never failed to bring a giddy smile to your lips. But he had told you the team knew something was going on with him, and that didn't surprise you with his being in a team of profilers. He'd also mentioned that possibly the main reason they were suspicious was that before you, he had such a lack of days that he took off from work that he was made to take compulsory holidays and after meeting you, he would actually request the days off and would leave the office at a reasonable hour to go home to you, sometimes before the rest of the team would. Even though you loved your and Spencer's relationship being a secret from his work life and your work life, you were also aware of the fact that his team were his family, and you knew that with the news you had to tell him, it wouldn't be long before he told the team about you. The thought of meeting them excited you, you wanted to meet the people that were so important to Spencer and the ones who looked out for him when nobody else did.

You spent the day tidying the apartment, you hated tidying but it was something that needed to be done, the apartment having fallen into Spencer's organised chaos. Your phone wasn't on silent like it usually was as you didn't want to miss is Spencer called, every notification you received you hoped it was a text from him but you were left disappointed. By the time it hit 1am, you had come to terms with him probably being too busy with the case so you sent him goodnight message and let him know you were okay before going to sleep. In the morning, you checked your phone to find a message from him that read 'Sleep well, I love you honey' and that made you feel better. It was clear to you that the case had him very busy, as they always did so you didn't expect to hear from him today either but you left the ringer on your phone on just in case. Not having much motivation to do anything and wanting to use your time off of work properly, you spent the day binging Gossip Girl and ordered Chinese takeout. Eventually you grew tried so, exactly like you had the night before, you sent him a message and went to sleep.

When you woke up, the first thing you did, after checking your phone, was pack your things. It was the last day of your break in filming and you would be catching a flight back to LA later that night as the first shot you had was an early morning shot so you had to be on set at 4.30am for hair and make up. After packing your things, you heard the sound your phone ringing, you were ecstatic to see Spencer's name on the caller ID.

You: Hi, Spence S: Hi, angel. Sorry it took my so long to call. You: Don't worry, you've been busy. I understand, Spence. How's the case going? S: It's...it's really tough, I doubt I'll be back in time to see you before you go back to LA. 'M really sorry, sweetheart.

You: Oh...

S: I'm so sorry, I know we were supposed to spend some time together but the team needed me.

You: I... um, 's fine, I get it, it's your job, it's important.

S: You're important too. 'M sorry, I really am.

You: Don't need to keep apologising, you can't control when people commit crimes.

S: When's your next filming break? Do you know yet?

You: Probably not for another month at least...

S: Oh, well we'll be able to make it through, we've done it before and for longer periods of time.

You: I know, it's just I...I really needed to um, I needed to...

S: Yeah?

You: It doesn't matter.

S: Sounds to me like it matters.

You: No it's whatever, you've got more important things to deal with right now.

S: If it's important to you then it's important to me too.

You: I just needed to tell you something, is all. But I um...yeah.

S: Sweetheart, you know you can tell me anything right?

You: Yeah, I know.

S: Whatever it is, you can tell me, angel.

You: I'm um, it's...well-

S: Fuck, 'm really sorry but I have to go, think we've had a break in the case.

You: Oh, oh yeah, okay.

S: Call me when you land, yeah?

You: Yeah.

S: I love you.

You: ...I-

The line beeped as the call disconnected, meaning he hung up on you before you got to finish what you were saying. You were mumbling though, talking slowly, maybe he couldn't hear you. Yeah, that's what it must have been, you nodded, trying to convince yourself.

You spent the hours leading up to your flight doom scrolling in bed before you had to make your way to the airport. On the flight back, you got lucky and had nobody sat next to you, you spent the time going over you script for tomorrow, not even able to drink to make you feel better. When you landed you shot him a text letting him know you were back in LA, when you arrived at the place you were living at for filming, you shot him another text letting him know you were home safe.

You continued on as normal for the next week, spending your time either filming, learning lines or sleeping with minimal contact from Spencer. He hadn't called you again and the only contact from him would be a short response to the messages you sent before you went to sleep. It was a week and a half since you had come back to LA when you finally got the message from him saying that they'd wrapped up the case and that he was on his way home. You were glad, you responded by telling him to make sure he got some proper rest, knowing how exhausted he would be when he came home from cases, only to stay up doing paperwork.

The following morning, you were woken up by a knock on your door which confused you since you didn't have anywhere to be until your evening filming and you hadn't made any other plans. You begrudgingly got out of bed and flattened your hair down as you made you way to the door. When you opened it, you were shocked to be met with the sight of sender stood there with a bouquet of pink lilies in his hands. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, thinking you must have been imagining it, but you weren't. Before you hugged him, you ushered him inside and then jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck. The sound of his chuckle as his arms wrapped around your waist instantly bringing you a comfort only he could give you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked in excitement as you let go of him, taking the flowers from his hands and putting them down on your coffee table.

He shrugged, "I wanted to see you." He spoke nonchalantly as he hung his jacket on the coat rack.

"You're crazy." You laughed, letting him follow you as you went to brush your teeth.

"Crazy for wanting to see my girlfriend? I don't think so." He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, his eyes locked on yours through the mirror.

After you brushed your teeth, the both of you went to lay in your bed, your head resting on his clothed chest while you spoke quietly to each other.

"Hey, what did you want to tell me?" He suddenly asked in the midst of a conversation.

"Oh, um," you nervously sat up, your legs crossed as you anxiously began to pick at your fingernails.

"Hey, none of that," he tutted as he too sat up, placing his hands on yours to stop you from picking and accidentally hurting yourself.

"I um, I have news..." you softly spoke.

"Okay, good or bad?" He asked, his voice gentle and calm.

"Well that depends, its..." you started, before stopping again afraid to tell him. You glanced up at him, his eyes as patient and understanding as ever. You let out a deep breath before deciding to just get it over with, "I'm um, I'm pregnant."

You were met with silence, you tried to gauge his reaction but the only immediate one you received was shock. After a minute of the silence killing you, you whispered, "Spence?"

To which he only hummed in response. You bit your lip before trying again, "Can you say something...?"

He blinked quickly, as if pulling himself from a trance, "That's great, angel. Really."

"You're not upset?" You frowned, not understanding the way he reacted.

"Of course I'm not, it's wonderful news!" He spoke with a smile now on his face, "Was just shocked is all, I thought we'd been careful. I was trying to get my head around it. ' M sorry if I scared you."

A long exhale of relief escaped you, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. He pulled you in for a hug and neither of you said anything, it felt more real now for you that you'd told him.

"I'm scared," you whispered in his hold, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"Me too, but we'll be okay. I'd be worried if we weren't a little scared," He joked, causing you to laugh tearily, he pulled back from you so that he could look dow at your face, "it's going to be okay, really. Means I'll have to finally introduce you to the team and face Derek's teasing but it's worth it and it's exciting."

You nodded, smiling softly up at him, "We're gonna have a baby."

He laughed in what sounded like disbelief, tears now lining his eyes, "Yeah. Yeah, we are."

You were glad you had him, you'd never been with somebody you had understood you as effortlessly as he did. You knew it would be tough, but you would make it work, you always did.

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3

#cm spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #bau team #spencer x you #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fic #reid criminal minds #criminalminds #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #dr reid #mgg x reader #mgg

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dominiquelucalover · 2 days ago

Note

AHHH I LOVE THE PLAYLIST REQUESTS.

#302 with Deacon! ♥️

Don't Bring Me to Tears When I Just Did My Makeup So Nice | Deacon Kay x Reader

Summary: your friends told you not to date a cop, that there wouldn't be much of a relationship that way, but you assured them differently. However, as time goes on, you begin to see what was always there and you feel the need to tell Deacon how it's really going to be.

Song: Please Please Please - Sabrina Carpenter | Game Link

CW: age gap, relationship problems, angst and fluff, this is not meant to be hate against Annie.

Not proofread.

Deacon Kay was one of the hottest men you'd ever met. He was smart, strong, and sexy. He was also kind, considerate, and had a heart of gold. Aka, everything you looked for in a man. You couldn't deny the attraction you had to him, so you went for it, especially since he was obviously single.

Your friends weren't so thrilled to hear about this older man you'd met, especially when they heard he was a cop with kids. They warned you about how little time he'd have to spend with you, how his job and kids would always come before you, how it couldn't and wouldn't be a real relationship like you'd hoped.

You brushed them off, but their words were always in the back of your mind. You worried they could be right, but then Deacon took you out to dinner and on many other dates before he introduced you to his kids. His children loved and adored you, which seemed to be a sign in the right direction for your relationship with Deacon.

But after a few months of dating, you started to see what your friends saw...

It started with his job taking him away. You supported him and what he did, so it didn't bother you in the beginning. You may have under estimated the realities of dating a S.W.A.T. officer but you got used to it. You assured him when he asked if you were happy with him, sending him texts to read during or after his shift so that he knew you cared for him. Good morning and goodnight texts were a must and he made sure to send them to you too.

But then when he wasn't working, he had to take care of his kids, which you totally understood. He was a single father with a handful of kids to take care of. Sometimes they got sick, sometimes they needed help with homework, and other times they just wanted to spend time with their dad. You offered to help however you could because you cared for his kids as much as he did, but most of the tike he didn't want to push that responsibility onto you. He couldn't ask you to help parent his children just like that, but you argued that you'd love to, if he'd allow it.

His ex was a problem you didn't think to expect. She had walked out on Deacon and their marriage for reasons unknown to you, not that you wanted to speculate or pry, so you reasonably thought that she wouldn't come around. But she did, a lot, usually to see the kids or take them for a weekend, and sometimes that entailed her seeing you and making a face - as if Deacon could do better. You didn't think she had any place to judge since she was the one that left, but you never said anything to Deacon about it and you mostly tried to keep Annie out of your mind.

The final straw came when he stood you up at a restaurant. You were supposed to be on a nice date, a little spoiling for the two of you since it had been so long since you'd gotten to really go out together. But he didn't show up. You texted him, but he never replied, so after an hour of waiting at the restaurant, you left.

You drove straight to his house in your nice dress and pretty makeup. You knocked on the door because it was already dark out and you knew the kids were likely getting ready for bed. They were supposed to have a sitter, and Deacon's car was in the driveway, so you knew he was home. After all, he would have told you if he had to go into work.

He opened the door looking a little frazzled, but as soon as his eyes landed on you, they sorted with regret. "I'm so sorry."

You shook your head. "You're home for a reason," you said, making him aware that you still understood everything he did and why, "You're not the kind of man to leave me waiting without a reason, but I need to know if this is all real for you. Because I can't keep doing this, being priority number three. If I'm going to be with you, I want to be with you. I-"

"This is real to me," he said, cutting you off because he couldn't stand to hear the strain in your voice anymore. If you started crying, he didn't know what he would do with himself. "I just- You're still young and have so much ahead of you. I wouldn't want to hold you back."

"Never," you tell him, bridging the gap between you to wrap your arms around his neck. Looking up into his eyes, you said, "I want nothing more than you and everything that you are."

His hands came to settle on your waist and pulling you impossibly closer, holding you to his chest. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure," you told him.

He kissed you passionately, bringing a hand up to cradle your neck. One of your hands went into his hair to hold him close to you, not wanting to break the kiss too soon. It was perfect, in the soft glow of the light outside. Everything was so perfect, you thought you were in a movie for a moment.

He pulled away and breathed you in, then said, "Move in with me."

"Really?" you asked softly, almost in disbelief.

"Really."

A small voice came from behind him, "Daddy?"

You both looked over to see his daughter rubbing her eye, her bunny rabbit stuffed animal tucked under her arm. Her hair was a mess and she didn't look like she felt very well, further proven to you by the hacking cough she let let a moment later. However, her eyes lit up when she saw you and she rushed over to hug you as she called out your name.

You hugged her back and gently walked her inside so Deacon could shut the door and stop the cool night air from coming in. You picked Lila up and sat her on your hip, asking her if she was feeling okay. As you walked with her back to her room, Deacon watched fondly.

When you looked his way before going upstairs, you flashed him a smile, and knew this was real.

#deacon kay x reader #david deacon kay #swat deacon #deacon kay #swat cbs #swat x reader #swat 2017 #swat #playlist ask game

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niyafics · 5 hours ago

Text

ᯓᡣ𐭩better every time˖ ݁𖥔

paige x reader (18+)

𐙚 part 1🐈‍⬛

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ wc : 2.5k

𖥔 ݁˖ cw : SMUT, first person p.o.v, petplay ahhh, the word sl*t, swearing, all that great stuff

˖ ݁𖥔 summary : a package arrives from paige, what could it be?

˖ ݁ a/n : hii srry if this sucks i haven’t written smut in years. not rlly edited.

p.b

did you get my gift,kitten?

yes, but i haven’t opened it

this kitten thing is just forever now huh :/

p.b

lol open the box and you tell me

We hadn’t seen each other in a week now, and even our last time was brief. Practice, games, school preoccupied all Paiges’ time, and I was getting swamped with work and my demanding minimum wage job. Still managing to slip a suggestive message or picture in between.

We had responsibilities. It was best for it to stay that way. For me to stay busy. That time apart would help me ground myself from getting completely enthralled in the tall girls icey eyes.

I felt embarrassingly moody last month when we didn’t meet up for a week opposed to our normal 2-4 times throughout it. Which in truthfulness, was too often. A few times us not having the sex our relationship was supposed to be exclusive to.

Like when she invited me over her place to watch the worst movies we could find on Netflix, intertwined lazily on her couch until I had to go to work.

Staring sleepily at the ceiling in the dark talking to each other about anything. Everything. Until one of our tired states doesn’t let us respond anymore.

Or when she’d pleaded to come over after a long practice, showering and plopping into my bed like it was hers. I had been the big spoon, combing my hands through her hair that was still damp, until she fell asleep. This one happened more than once.

I sat up on my elbow and watched her breathe slowly, my arm wrapped around her waist from behind, thinking how she was so effortlessly cute, and sexy.How she smelled good. How she blurted out my name without me giving it to her, our first night together.

I still haven’t gathered the courage to ask how she knew it.

“God, (y/n), you’re even prettier up close...”

It rolled out like she moaned it a million times.

By now, she probably has.

I wondered, if our meeting was such a coincidence after all.

My theory made me feel full of myself. How could have Paige known me? No mutual friends, and mine sure as hell wouldn’t have forgotten to tell me Paige Bueckers asked about me. We had no classes. Paige was a year ahead of me. Sure, I seen her on campus. She never seen me. Had she? I’d have to ask if I wanted to know.

Regardless of why we saw each other, we were getting dangerously closer than usual fuck-buddies. Pushing past the boundaries of friends with benefits. The special time together, the vulnerability.

Especially now, with her sending me stuff. First, it was [your fav flower] which I offhandedly mentioned I liked. We hadn’t talked in days and then, there was a delivery guy holding them in a vase of my favorite color outside my door.

She was thinking of me. couldn’t she just text it? No, this was way more sentimental than a text. It was meant to leave me thinking about her even more than I was. To show me she was thinking of me. It wasn’t just store bought, she had to have gotten it from a florist.

I almost knocked her over the next time i saw her, saying it was the sweetest thing anyone had done for me, because it was. Paige held me while I gushed, swaying me slightly, with a smirk that read I successfully stroked her ego.

“A good way to say ‘thank you’ is for you to let me between those pretty thighs, kitty.” A chuckle escaped as she said it, though she was serious, she lets me know this with a firm grip behind me. That damn nickname. Whenever I wasn’t completely under her spell, I felt almost embarrassed hearing her say it. Responding to it. Then wasn’t one of those times. I was on my back with her perfect mouth wet from me in minutes.

p.b

omg y/n

p.b

open it alreadyyy

My phone snapped me out of my thoughts. I shuffled to my kitchen counter to open the package waiting for me. I took a picture of me from above so the box was also in frame. Smiling to myself before I hit send, knowing the sight of me in her hoodie with nothing but panties she couldn’t see underneath would drive her crazy.

[image]

patienceee, i’m about to rn

p.b

[hearted an attachment]

oh yea? i’ll teach u alllll abt patience ;p

Blush crept to my cheeks with a grin I couldn’t help, while I wondered what she meant.

I tore the tape down the middle and the box opened slightly on its own before I peeled both tabs back all the way. My mouth slowly falling and flustered giggles erupting from me.

It was a pink collar with a silver bell hanging from it. Next to it was a shiny chain leash, with a handle to match waiting to be attached.

ohmygoodness

p.b

:) yeahhhh???

p.b

you like it or you luv it ??

you’re insane

p.b

insanely attracted to you. yes.

p.b

now be a goodgirl & put the collar on, i’ll be there to hook the leash to it later <3

She was coming tonight? I felt nervous as if I hadn’t been on my knees for her a few nights ago, congratulating her on a win. I looked closely at what I was getting myself into.

That tingling feeling came while I went lifted it near my neck.

This girl was awakening things in me.

I’m up to the door in seconds when I hear a knock against it. It’s in a goofy rhythm, so I know exactly who it is. My hands go to fix my hair even though whatever condition it’s in is going to be gone in a minute anyway. I open it a little, then step away, and Paige happily invites herself the rest of the way in.

“My kitty.” Her pink lips give me a smile that’s so warm I feel it. That could be something else. She’s in sweatpants, air forces that always seemed to look new, and another graphic hoodie I’m eager to collect. I’m in the skimpiest nightgown I could find, with the collar snug around my neck.

She opens her arms beckoning me to hug her, it’s tight and I melt in, getting a whiff of her shampoo, her laundry detergent. Paige pulls me back and runs her hands to my butt while she takes my appearance in.

I know she’s pleased from the way she licks her top lip slightly, while her slim fingers slip underneath the fabric that stopped at the beginning of my thighs.

“Look at you, such an obedient sweetheart for me, aren’t you, mamas?” Her voice hums in my ear. “So gorgeous. I knew it’d be perfect on you.” I’m pulled into a deep kiss that makes a thick smack when we pull away, I can’t help but whimper. She goes at the crook of my neck, which is her favorite place when we see each other. Well, one of them.

Paige leaves hickies on me that I stopped bothering to cover up since the second time she proved she couldn’t help herself. I remember her telling me how it turns her on knowing I walked around with her love bites all over me. The way she knows my friends will ask, and I’ll just blush in response.

Pulling away like it pains her to, she admires her work. Her muscular body pressed against me still.

“Missed you so bad..” She says in an innocent tone, flicking the bell on my neck and mouth curling into a mischievous expression when it rings back in response. “Where’s the leash, hm?”

“Bedroom.” I tilt my head towards its direction. Blood starting to rush thinking of which scenario in my head was about to happen next. I knew she’d surprise me anyway. She grabs my hand and gently guides me there, and I follow, unapologetically looking at her with needy eyes.

As soon as we walk in it’s like a switch flips in Paige. Pushing me onto the bed, her lashes low, and her ponytail falling over her shoulder as she stares down at me, eyes full of lust, and ideas. Both her hands hold my face then they move down my neck to my shoulders, so she can push the straps to the gown away. Her mouth is on mine again as she slides it down, beyond ready to feel what’s underneath.

Traveling down my neck again with her lips that seem to get softer every-time I feel them, but this time she stops and pays special attention to my nipples that are already hard from her touch and the air. When she’s not sucking, running her tongue over, and slightly biting one she’s fondling the other gently. Moaning even as she’s doing that, which is making deep inside me stir knowing she’s just as wet as I am right now. I can’t take the teasing anymore. I need her.

“Paige..” I drag her name out with a soft whine. “I..” Stopping because she knows what it is. Her clothed body is pressing against my heat, I roll my hips so she feels it. That’s the only way she snaps out of her trance with my breasts, she gives me a mocking pout.

“Aw, what, kitty?” Her full bottom lip pokes out, but the smile she fights back still curls in the corner. “hmm? tell me, ma..”

“Fuck me,” I breathe. Her smile is full fledged now. But she waits for more. “Ugh, please, baby..I need you..” my body loved the way she forced words out of me. If she opened my legs right now the teasing wouldn’t stop, it’d just move to how wet I am.

She doesn’t open them. Paige gets up and grabs the leash from my dresser, before returning back to standing over me, legs pressed tightly together on the bed, dress down my chest nearly off.

“Turn around.” Paige says. Not asking. More than happily, I sit up. Before I can turn over she flips me herself by my hips. I let out a gasp, it turns grows into a giggle that doesn’t hide how much that turned me on. Turning to look at her, my hands and knees on the mattress, batting my lashes, my back arching. From how she mumbled profanities, as she crawled near me, my taunting did what it was supposed to.

Her fingers go in my hair to pull it to the side, and the other hand loops the collar to the leash with a satisfying click. I start to squirm.

“Too cute...” She slides the dress further down my legs, I’m basically naked, getting unreasonably flustered at her staring at my wet slit. I hear an amused grin in her voice. “Don’t you dare move.” Paige mumbles. I feel a tug on the collar, the bell chimes, a moan hums in my mouth. My eyes closing, immersing into her taking care of me.

I hear her start to slide her clothes off, them dropping to the floor. Then she’s back hovering over me, and her finger slides down me slowly. I can’t help but let my head lower down, Paige grabs the leash up.

“Noo, I wanna to hear you kitty…” She coos, leaning down near my ear. The leash making me arch until I see her face, upside down, eyes still visible against the darkness. She slides her index inside of me, I sharply inhale, and breathe out a low moan.

More are pounded out of me as she adds another digit into where I’m now practically drooling from, twisting and curling them, trying to coax my orgasm out of me. Paige stares down at me, entertained, her mouth slightly open while she works inside me. Fingers so close to her lap she’s moving her hips and hand, bouncing me up and down off them, with the help of the leash.

My eyes are hitting the back of my head, I have to concentrate to focus back in on her gaze. Her expression making my sounds of pleasure louder, closer together. I hear her grunts in her throat each time my ass hits her hips, coming down on her hand.

A knot ties tight inside me. It’s about to snap. Paige doesn’t lighten up on the leash or her strokes. The collar chokes me, and instead of complaining, I wish she’d pull tighter.

“You’re such a slut..gripping me like this…” She huffs. Her fingers rub profusely on my G spot. “About to cum, hm kitten?” Paige breaths out with a small chuckle, leaning down to kiss my back, sweat on her upper lip.

I yelp in response, barley able to grip the covers anymore, reaching back to put my hand on her hip, it makes her add another.

“P-paige, I love-“ I force myself to stop and squeal instead.

“I know, baby. Me too.” She grunts lowly back. My head is spinning, even though we probably thought the sentence ended in different ways.

My legs start trembling as a wave relief and instant exhaustion ripple through me. I feel myself go limp, the third finger sending me over the edge.

Paige lets me face plant into the duvet, letting go of the leash, cold metal hitting my sweaty back. We’re both panting, I hear Paige’s stop in between while she’s licking herself clean of me. She rubs my back with her free hand, an exhausted satisfied laugh comes from behind me. I’m not looking, I just know a smug look is plastered.

Rolling over to look at her, and she’s undoing her hair tie with the facial expression I predicted, blonde strands falling down her back, studying my flushed face. She was still naked, which makes me giddy for some reason, knowing she used to rush to throw her clothes back on.

“Come here..” I lazily wave her over. This time she does what I say. I think about saying it to tease her, but she looks so cute when she crawls on top of my chest and looks up to me, doe eyed, I kiss her forehead instead.

“It was good?” Paige asks soft, seeking reassurance, like I’m not still feeling the after effects of her hands on me. I stroke her hair tenderly, getting turned on by her warm body pressed against mine, her face on my chest.

“Great. Amazing.” I chirp back with confidence. “It gets better every time.”

“Really? I dunno if I believe that…” A toothy grin stretches on her face instead. “I guess we’ll have to go again to test it out..” she shrugs, watching me as she glided her palm up my stomach to my chest again.

I nod eagerly in agreement. I had something to ask her. I can’t remember what.

niyafics©️

#paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #wlw smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x y/n

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madly-enthusiastic · 1 day ago

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Uhhh, GUYS.

I think I wrote the first chapter of a Radioapple fanfic...

Just- Tell me if it's good, 'kay? It still doesn't have a name cuz it's a work in progress so, I'm still thinking of a name, I can't ask you for help with the name without telling all the story's AU so, I'll resort to the one thing I trust. My sister.

______

How much love can a parent express for its child?

If you asked Lucifer, he'd start rambling about how much his daughter is an amazing woman, already planning her own hotel with... redemption?

"Redemption, you say?" A voice Lucifer much liked and adored asked.

"Yeah... It's a bit silly and in my opinion, impossible even. But I trust her and I know she'll reach great lengths, heck, maybe Heaven itself!" He answered back, chuckling a bit. "I'm currently helping her to find a territory she can estabilish as hers, I could just give her a part of my territory but she says she wants to win something on her own. Regardless of what she wants or needs, I'm very proud of her!" He soon added, gesturing vaguely to the North as to show where the hotel was most likely to be constructed.

A comfortable minute is passed between them until the soft laugh from Lucifer's company interrupts it.

"Perhaps I'll visit it later."

_______

Lucifer's dream was interrupted by the sound of his alarm going off, he groggily sat up on his bed before he slipped his hooved feet in his duck slippers. Another dream, another memory, I guess... Lucifer thought as he stood up, letting his wings strech so his back wouldn't feel sore later on.

He grabbed his phone and checked the messages he received. Satan's email for a new meeting... Charlie inviting me over... Goetias- He froze for a minute before he checked his phone again to make sure he didn't misread it. Charlie is inviting me over?!

Needless to say he cleared his agenda just so he could visit his daughter, it has been 7 years since they last spoke after... No! Don't think of that, Lucifer! Think of your precious daughter and how she invited you over despite years of not talking to her! Lucifer interrupted himself from going to dark memories.

He took a deep breath before he called her. Thankfully, Charlie picked up right away as if she was expecting her dad to call back.

"Oh! Hey Dad!" Her voice was like music to Lucifer's ears, it had been so long since he spoke with her, he almost forgot how the sound of his daughter's voice was!

"Hey Char-Char! I... just read your message, are you inviting me over to that hotel of yours? What was it again... The... Happy Hotel?" He asked, unsure if he got the name right.

"Ah, yes, dad! Actually, we changed it to the Hazbin Hotel! I had some help with the name!" She answered, happy that her dad remembered the hotel's old name, it meant that he was interested enough to learn it.

Thank Father. Lucifer thought, letting out a sigh of relief that didn't go past his daughter but she just laughed at it. "Sorry for the reaction, Char-Char... The old name was horrible, I never said anything 'cause I wanted to support you." He explained, chuckling awkwardly.

"It's alright dad! I don't blame you for that, the old name was... something, I guess? Well! What do you think of the new name? Is it hellish and ducking enough for you?"

Lucifer couldn't see Charlie's expression, but he was sure she was grinning while he blushed heavily. He felt embarrassed whenever his daughter brought up his ducks but he tried to ignore her teasing and focus on her question.

"Well... The Hazbin Hotel does have a nice ring to it! I also liked the joke... The 'has been' hotel, it's somewhat clever, I guess!" He answered, the joke was funny enough to make Lucifer laugh, it remembered him of the dad's jokes he used to do with Charlie and his friends.

"I'm happy you like it! Anyway, I was wondering if you could visit us! I mean, I know your agenda is kinda tight and you must be pretty busy with Hell and stuff but—"

"No, no, no! Don't worry about that, I didn't had much to do today," Besides a maybe important meeting with Satan about Hell's hierarchy. Lucifer didn't say that part out loud, though. "I can arrive there in, uh, let me check... Two hours! Is that good for you, Charlie?"

Charlie stayed quiet on the other side of the line before she started jumping out of happiness (Lucifer couldn't see it but he assumed she was jumping by the sound of the ground being hit by a pair of hooves many times). "Yes, yes! That's perfect, dad! It's enough time for me to clean up the place, arrange some decorations and—" She stopped to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "... Thank you, dad. For everything, really."

Lucifer smiled as he heard his daughter. Even if he thought redemption was impossible, he'd have support Charlie no matter what, he loved his daughter and there was nothing that could change that fact. "Don't thank me sweetie, you were the one that achieved that. Not me, I just helped you through it."

"I'm still thankful, dad. You helped me when I need and you keep helping me whenever I need something... You're an amazing dad. I love you." Lucifer couldn't barely contain the tears that risked to fall from his eyes, but he held back until he answered he loved her back.

As Charlie hang up, Lucifer finally let the tears fall, they fell like a waterfall but he didn't try to stop them. His daughter still loves him after all, she still appreaciates all the silly things he did for her.

After a few minutes of crying, he wiped his eyes and checked the apple shaped clock on his bedroom. Two hours... He sighed, looking around the mess in his room. I could just teleport there but... I should get some things done before I visit Charlie, it's better to do it now than to do it later. And for the next two hours, Lucifer cleaned his room, organized his books, explained the situation to Satan, who was mad at him but he allowed Lucifer to postpone the meeting to Saturday. Thank Father...

When it was finally time to visit Charlie, Lucifer made sure to wear his best clothes. Charlie already knows me but what if she has residents there? Sure, this is Hell but it's better to be safe than sorry!

He took a deep breath before he opened the portal, staring at the hotel's door for two minutes before he stepped in.

It's time to do this.

____

AAAAAnd that's the end... It's more of an epilogue than a chapter, just to give a quick explanation on Charlie's relationship with Lucifer:

• Charlie and Lucifer's relationship is better than in the original series cuz Lucifer would have helped Charlie to create the hotel, they managed to bound through it

• Lucifer was an absent father, that is no difference, what changed was that his friends told him he should try to spend more time with Charlie and that's what he did

• Charlie and Lucifer stopped talking for 7 years after an event on both Charlie and Lucifer's lives that left them scarred, principally on Lucifer's side of the story.

And before you ask, there're some differences on my characters from the originals designs. For example: Lucifer has goat ears, Charlie has them too, both have hooves and it goes that way with many characters! Husk is the same cuz he's already perfect, Angel changed a bit and Nifty is... still Nifty.

Pretty please, tell me your thoughts about it!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #radioapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #fanfic #charlie morningstar #IDK IF THIS IS GOOD #SOMEONE TELL ME IF IT IS OR NOT-

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dullgecko · 2 days ago

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Thanks Tumblr for eating that ask, not like i wanted to DO something with it -_-..... I read the ask, I liked the ask, i go to actually write something for it and it's dissapeared into the ether.

For the person who sent the ask about Fabian being a dork and trying to manufacture a 'there was only 1 bed' scenario with Riz.

---------------

It wasn't often that Riz's solo cases dragged him out this far but sometimes you just had to follow the lead wherever it took you. Even if where it took you was nearly twelve hours drive away on the back of a grumpy hellhound bike. Not quite in the Red Wastes, well past The Baronies, just far enough into the middle of nowhere that they were lucky to have even FOUND an inn for the night.

Sure, Riz liked to boast that he 'didn't sleep' but even he had his limits. The fact that they'd found the artefact they'd been looking for (stolen from his client, then sold to a pawn shop, then tracked through a good two dozen buyers until Riz found it for sale in a tiny, sketchy store full of OTHER stolen items and had stolen it back) meant that yeah, his job was done and now he could get some sleep. This was how Riz found himself trying desperatly not to fall asleep on his feet while Fabian negotiated for a room. Sure there wasn't much on offer, that was to be expected for an inn that was literally the only place around for MILES with soft beds and warm food, plenty of other adventurers had stopped here on their way down to the Red Wastes to help deal with a giant spider infestation and they were lucky there even WAS a room leftover for them to use. He wasn't really paying attention as Fabian spoke in hushed tones to the innkeeper, jumping slightly when his friend tapped him on the shoulder and jiggled the key to their room in front of his face. "Wakey wakey The Ball, at least wait until we get upstairs to fall asleep." The half elf chuckled, stooping slightly to steer Riz towards the stairs and up to their room with a gentle hand in the middle of his back.

Riz was actually looking forwards to a good long sleep, especially on a tall man sized bed. Plenty of room to sprawl out and get comfy, with probably more than enough pillows and blanket to spare. Needless to say that, when Fabian opened the door and ushered him inside and there was just a single double bed pushed against the far wall, he was a little disapointed.

"Sorry The Ball, this was the last room they had availible."

"No this is... fine." Riz pinched the bridge of his nose, weighing up his options as he poked around the room. There were spare blankets in the wardrobe against the wall and, well, plenty of space INSIDE said wardrobe. "You can take the bed Fabes, I'll just... make a nest in the cupboard or something."

Fabian sputtered, making little noises of protest even as Riz half-climbed the furniture to yank the spare blanket down off the shelf and set about arranging it comfortably on the floor of the wardrobe. His weapons and breifcase getting tucked inside as well as he stripped down to his comfortable undershirt and boxers as he prepared to go straight to sleep.

"No, don't. Come on there's PLENTY of room on the bed." Fabian blustered, hands hovering over the goblin as he fought the urge to pick him up and just plop him down on the matress himself. "There's no reason for you to sleep in the damn wardrobe and mess up your back, we can just share."

Riz might have been half a blink away from falling asleep but he wasn't stupid. He tipped his head back to squint critically at the half elfs face, noteing the slight blush at the tips of his ears, the way he couldn't maintain eye contact... the fact that it for SURE didn't sound like every single room in the inn was occupied right now. Right, there was only ONE room with ONE bed left in the whole place. He couldn't just say he wanted to cuddle?

The rogue just rolled his eyes, gathering up the blanket and his gear (there was NO way he would sleep without his sword and arcubus within arms reach) and heaving the whole lot up onto the bed. Nest getting hastily remade in the corner up against the wall.

Fabian, for his part, bit back a frustrated sigh as Riz shoved half the pillows into his little pile in the corner of the bed. 'Accidentally' snuggling in the middle of the night was a lot harder when you had to breach the walls and wiggle halfway into a nest of blankets to do so. So, defeated, he carefully got under the covers on the outer side of the bed. The lump mostly hidden under blankets and pillows getting a fond 'pat pat' as he settled down to sleep, sadly without his crush tucked against his front so they could both fit comfortably on the bed.

Riz let him sulk for a good fifteen minutes before taking pity, arm lifting the corner of his blanket to blink out at the pouting half-elf who was trying his best to pretend to be asleep.

"No? You're not going to give up the ruse and just ask to cuddle?" He whispered, amusement tinging his voice as he reached out to tuck a dreadlock behind Fabians ear. The half elf failing in his efforts to pretend to sleep when he quirked a smile. "That obvious?"

"Even exhausted my perception is high, and you weren't being subtle." Riz snickered, shuffling about until he he was under both Fabians blanket and his little nesting pile at the same time. The goblin quickly getting grabbed as Fabian skootched over so he was also half under the haphazard pile of bedding, only now with a captive rogue tucked against his front.

#fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #oh no only one bed

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xf-cases-solved · 2 days ago

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ayyyy, @numinousmysteries, guess who it is! it's me, your secret santa for the @poangpals gift exchange, here to gift you words that are kinda angsty, kinda hurt/comfort-y, and kinda (or more than kinda) horny. i've written a lot of cancer arc lately and was like "hmm, maybe i should branch out..." BUT, when i saw your ideal episode was "memento mori but they bang at the end," i was like, "okay, well, obviously this was meant to be." so that is what i have brought you! a post-memento mori fic where they bang at the end! thank you for everything you bring to this community. you're a baller and i hope you enjoy your gift <3 -diz Title: Memento Vivere Word count: ~6500 (bc i can't shut the fuck up to save my life) Rating: Explicit Here's the link to ao3, or save yourself a click and read below!

***

Memento Vivere

She is in the middle of grimacing at her own reflection in the small compact mirror she found at the bottom of her overnight bag when Mulder shows up at her hospital room, keys jangling in his hand as he hovers in the doorway, neither outside nor inside, like he's uncertain about what kind of proximity he's allowed this morning. Like she's a skittish cat he's trying to win over. And what grates at her isn't his tenuous disposition—it's that it's completely warranted, and it's so jarring to be known so well.

She knows that he knows that she bared her heart to him last night, and is now grappling with mortification. She's never been good with emotions. In college, she could do a walk of shame with her head held high, but when a lover would voice their affection for her she would suddenly become incapable of looking them in the eye. Her heart is in a lockbox and sometimes she goes so long without opening it she almost forgets the combination, and when she does manage to pop it open she gets frantic, wanting to immediately slam it shut.

"You about ready to go?" Mulder asks casually. Too casually. He's assessing her like he would a suspect, adjusting his tone to meet her mood and make himself more approachable, and she wants to snap at him for profiling her, but she won't. She can't. Not without confirming his analysis of her, and she doesn't need to open the spine of her book any wider when he can already read her with such clarity.

In her writings—the filled pages already torn from the notebook and shredded into pieces in the wire trash bin next to her bed—she had thought she was divulging the secrets of her heart to him. It occurs to her only now, as he watches her from across the room with a purposefully mild expression, that while he may not know her every thought, he is the only other person who knows the combination to the lockbox in her chest. He could open it at any time, but he doesn't. He could reach inside her and hold her beating heart in his cupped hands, learning every detail and committing it to memory, but he would never take from her anything that wasn't freely given. His respect is almost more overwhelming than anything, because it's a reminder that if he weren't an honorable man he could ruin her. He has access to her nuke, and she can do nothing but trust that he won't hit the button.

"Yeah, just a second," she replies—casual.

She slips the compact mirror back inside her bag and gets to her feet. She tries to summon the woman inside her who walks down the hallways of the Hoover Building—confident, assertive, and unaffected by stares or assumptions—but it's difficult without her body armor. Even though she only had one infusion of the chemo, her body still feels frail and hungover, like the day after a bad twenty-four hour flu, and she's wearing flats with her yoga pants and sweater, highlighting the height disparity between the two of them in a way her heels usually help to mitigate. There wasn't a hair dryer to use after her shower, so the natural curls she usually irons out are taking over, absurdly making her feel disorderly and sloppy. And she's not wearing makeup, and it's not the dark circles around her eyes or even the mole above her lip that she's self-conscious about—it's the freckles that spatter across her cheeks and nose. Well put together women don't have freckles, and she's sure he's going to interpret her vulnerabilities on her sun-kissed skin like the soggy tea leaves at the bottom of a china cup.

The worst part of dying, she's starting to think, is the discovery that her walls that felt sturdy like concrete are actually made of straw, and there's nothing like an illness to come sweeping through to blow your house down.

On the way out of the hospital they pass the room Penny died in. She looks away from the door, and Mulder looks at her. In a blink-and-you-miss-it moment he reaches over and squeezes her hand.

They don't say anything.

Scully thinks his choice of silence says more than words ever could.

When she wakes up on her couch she isn't sure if it was the nightmare that roused her, or the relentless throbbing in her head.

The ride back home from Allentown had been uncomfortable in every sense of the word. Mulder had rambled theories at her—about Dr. Scanlon and MUFON and government agendas—until her lack of engagement made the conversation eventually dissolve, first into him nervously chattering about the most ridiculous X-Files cases he could think of and, when that didn't work either, into nothing, a pall falling over them as she shifted restlessly in her seat, unable to find a position that didn't feel ill-fitting like a shirt that she couldn't untwist. They didn't once speak the word cancer.

She hadn't meant to fall asleep after he dropped her off, but ten minutes into some daytime talk show and she was suddenly dead to the world, and judging by the low light that surrounds her, she has slept all the way from early afternoon well into dusk. The TV still flickers at her, now playing the evening news, and she's sure that there aren't going to be any headlines about manufactured brain tumors and shady oncologists who betray their Hippocratic oath by purposefully poisoning women who look to them for salvation. The types of horrors she witnesses rarely make the news. Not with all the facts attached, at least.

She pushes herself up with a groan. Her head really hurts, and although her first instinct is to attribute it to the mass in her sinus cavity, when she reaches up to swipe under her nose there are no remnants of dried blood, and the dryness of her tongue and hollowness of her belly makes her think that the rhythmic throbbing in her skull is probably because she can't remember the last time she had a glass of water or a single bite of food.

She goes about the motions of getting together what she supposes is technically dinner, even though she forgot to proceed it with breakfast or lunch, and when she gets it all together—a hearty meal of half a banana, a slice of buttered toast, three ibuprofen, and a tall glass of ice water—she settles back down on the couch and assesses the other ache she'd awoken with.

The nightmare is formless in her memory, lacking a cohesive plotline now that she's in the waking world, but nevertheless, the emotions it stirred up inside her are visceral. There is a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, bottomless as the abyss. It's a type of fear that grips her from the inside, putting her adrenal gland into a chokehold and activating her fight or flight, except she can't fight her own mind anymore than she can flee it.

This is how she knows, even without the details, that her dream was about dying.

These types of dreams have been coming to her more frequently nowadays, starting the night Leonard Betts spoke five chilling words to her in the back of an ambulance. She's had friends who have been pregnant, and they would often tell her about the constant dreams they would have on the subject throughout the entire nine months. In a way, she figures, it's a similar concept; she and her friends all have had dreams about what their body is growing inside them—the notable difference of course being that they grew something into life, and she's growing something that takes it away.

Tomorrow she is going to have to start making phone calls. Make appointments and discuss treatment options and try not to get discouraged when the options are limited. When she first told Mulder about the cancer, he had been so insistent, saying, "There must be some people who receive treatment for this," and at the time she hadn't been able to bring herself to tell him that she wasn't sure she was going to be one of them. The odds were, and are, so heavily stacked against her, and as a medical doctor she is very aware that sometimes quality of life outweighs the quantity of it. Her experience in Allentown hasn't really endeared her toward the idea either, if she's being honest, and not because of Scanlon, or even because of Penny, but because she had not felt sick at all, up until she tried to treat the illness, and then suddenly she'd been in hell.

But while she may be uncomfortable with how much of herself she bared to him last night, she knows that she made promises that she can't take back. She is loyal to a fault, and she gave both him and herself her word that she would continue to live as long as she could, and so she will.

She's just not convinced much of her life in the upcoming days and weeks and months and maybe even years will feel much like living. In fact, she's pretty worried—down to the very depths of her subconscious, if her dreams are any indication—that she's going to feel like she's dying.

They say doctors make the worst patients. Sometimes that's because of stubbornness. Sometimes it's because they know exactly what to expect.

She finishes her meager meal and drinks down the last of her water. She slips an ice cube into her mouth and bites down on it, shattering it into pieces. The enamel of her teeth has always been sensitive to temperature, but instead of being off-put by the pain that spikes through to her jawbone when the ice touches her nerves, she revels in it. Her head, while somewhat improved, is still aching, and she finds herself appreciating that as well. She finds she is grateful for the signs her body is giving her to tell her it's still here, and maybe that's the trick. Maybe to get through this she has to go into it with a respect for the pain. This only hurts because I am alive, she'll have to train herself to think.

She can do that. She's certainly stubborn enough.

She wishes it didn't all have to be about pain, though. She doesn't want to forget that a body can feel good things too.

Ice crunches between her teeth, shocking her like a root canal, while she thinks about the signs of life that are enjoyable. Warmth. Comfort. Pleasure.

Pleasure.

On the TV, the news anchors are tying up their reports that are lacking things they don't even realize are missing. In her mouth her internal temperature warms the ice water, and the ebbing of the pain is a brief moment of gratification that acts as a sampling of what endorphins can do.

Tomorrow she is going to have to make plans to put herself in a varying, yet indefinite state of pain, and she will have to learn to appreciate it in order to remember how to be alive.

Tonight, however, she could remind herself in a different way.

It is a terrible idea.

It's an idea she has had a million times before and has stamped down just as often.

Ten minutes later and she's out her front door and getting into the driver's side of her car. Muscle memory guides her down the streets toward Alexandria, while she spends the whole drive telling herself to turn back.

She doesn't.

"Hey," Mulder says in surprise, eye widening slightly at the sight of her standing at his door. He's got on a white tank top and dark grey sweatpants, looking nothing like the federal agent he usually does. Instead of seeing a professional, albeit a tad bit crazy, government official, she sees her friend in the way that is much easier to ignore when he's wearing a suit and an ugly patterned tie. Like this, he exudes masculine energy, and her eyes are immediately drawn to the slopes and curves of his muscular shoulders and biceps. There is hair peeking out on his chest where the neckline of his shirt dips low. He hasn't shaved for at least a day, an even stubble shadowing his cheeks and jaw. She drops her gaze to the floor before he can catch her roaming eyes, and she sees his feet are bare. For some reason that's the most intimate part of it all, and the reality of what she's come here to do hits her like a freight train and she flushes with what must be a particularly spectacular shade of red.

In contrast, she's feeling a lot like she did this morning, like a soldier out of uniform. She's wearing the same pair of yoga pants, and under her coat she has on a faded souvenir t-shirt her parents gave her after an anniversary trip to the Outer Banks well over five years ago. It occurs to her only now that she'd left in such a rush that she hadn't even bothered with a bra, and she becomes instantly aware of the oversized shirt brushing directly against her breasts.

At least she wore boots with a heel this time, but in reality it's not doing much to level the playing field. Mulder's six-foot frame still dwarfs her completely, and while she normally feels like a peer in his presence—like a respected intellectual whose gender is totally irrelevant—tonight she is feeling a lot like she did the first time she entered a university science lecture and found herself surrounded almost entirely by men. The difference is that back then she had felt, ridiculously, embarrassed by her femininity, hyper-aware of every questioning stare, asking the same question: What is she doing here?

But like with most things, Mulder—simply by virtue of being Mulder—challenges her way of thinking. While she has long since stopped viewing her womanhood as a flaw, she is always viscerally aware when the people around her view it as one, and over time that has bred resentment. Standing here before him, though, she holds no animosity toward the difference in their sexes. Like the way her science complements his reckless belief, so too, in this moment, does her feminine ying balance his masculine yang.

She doesn't even worry about the freckles on her makeupless face.

"Scully?" He sounds concerned, and she realizes she's been standing here in silence after appearing at his apartment unannounced, and the last time they saw each other it had ended with her muttering a curt goodbye as she all but bolted from his car to escape the suffocation of her own self-imposed belief that emotional vulnerability was akin to disgrace.

But what Mulder isn't privy to yet is that the shame from this morning about being so transparent has been wholly replaced by the need of a dying woman to be reminded of the good parts of being alive. Scully is ready to be bare, by every definition, and she can only hope that he'll let her.

Refusing to give in to cowardice, she forces herself to look up from the floor to meet his eye.

"Can I come in?" she asks.

"Yeah, of course." He angles himself to place a hand on the small of her back, ushering her inside, and even through her coat and shirt the contact burns like the ice touching her enamel. She kicks off her boots, sinking back down to her natural five foot two—three, if the height gauge at the doctor's office chooses to be generous—and lets him take her coat and hang it up, before leading them both over to the couch. He plops down, leaving a purposeful vacancy beside him, and looks up at her expectantly, but she doesn't sit. Cocking his head, he asks, "Are you all right? Why are you here? If you needed something you know you could have called me and I would have come to you. I know you only went through one day of treatment, but I'm sure it had to have taken a toll on your—"

"I'm fine," she insists, cutting him off. She doesn't say it harshly, but she doesn't leave room for him to argue against it either, even though she can tell he desperately wants to. Instead, he chooses to heed her command, and presses his lips closed, waiting for her to tell him why she's standing here when earlier today they drove over three hours and she had barely said a word the entire time.

It's possible she didn't think this far ahead. More than that—it's possible she hasn't thought this through at all.

But she's committed now, and she's starting to feel feral, her needs centered around primitive instincts. It is in every species' nature to fight for survival at any cost, but she is burdened with a human's intellect that can allow her to deny herself continued survival if doing so also means prolonged suffering. If she is to keep her promise—if she is to fight for her life with treatments that make her feel sicker than the disease they're targeting—then she has to go into it with a memory that reminds her why it's worth it to stay alive.

She walks over to his desk and leans against it, mindlessly thumbing through documents strewn carelessly across the top. There are pieces from casefiles, and pages photocopied from obscure books on phenomena she'd never believe. There are scratch pieces of paper with notes scribbled on them, written in a shorthand that she's sure only makes sense to him. There are newspaper clippings and articles torn from tabloid magazines he would call source material, and she would call a scam. She doesn't read any of it, but she keeps her eyes trained on them as she considers her next steps.

Gaze pinned on a faded picture of some kind of creature that has clearly come off a printer that was running low on ink, she finally says, "I want to ask you for a favor, but I should warn you that it's a bit unorthodox."

"Unorthodox, huh? I dunno, Scully, I'm a pretty conventional guy, I'm not sure I can handle anything out of the ordinary."

A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. How does he do that? she wonders. How does he know how to calm her when he doesn't even know that she's feeling frantic in the first place?

That you should know my heart, look into it, finding there the memory and experience that belong to you. That are you.

Those were words she had written only days before, placed inside a journal that was meant to be a confessional, but again, she should have known better. What use is there in inviting someone into your heart when they're already there?

She stops fiddling with the contents of his desk and looks over at him. He's regarding her with an expression of concern that on a different day she would construe as pity and detest, but right now she has the capacity to accept that he's looking at her like that, not because she's weak, but because he cares. Because he's worried. Because he wants her to live.

"Last night, when you said you read some of what I wrote... how much did you read exactly?"

Mulder rubs the nape of his neck and shrugs.

"A bit," he says, which she takes to mean "all of it." She can picture him, after confirming she was safe, sneaking into her hospital room and sitting on her bed, skimming each page, and then going back through a second time to take it in more fully. It should feel like an invasion of privacy, but instead her impulse is to huff a small laugh. She tries so hard to hide from him, and yet he finds her every time.

"So you know about the treatment. What it feels like." He nods slowly, like he's trying to piece together what she's getting at and hasn't quite formed a cohesive picture yet. She sighs.

"Tomorrow I'm going to set up a meeting with Skinner and take him up on his offer in getting into contact with an oncologist. We can still pursue the case—that is, if any new evidence presents itself to give us any new leads—but in the meantime, I need to figure out what treatment options are available to me. Time is of the essence in these sorts of situations."

Mulder nods again, still waiting for the clarifying piece of the puzzle.

"Mulder, without talking it over with a specialist, I can't know for certain what treatment route they're going to have me take, but with my medical background I can make an educated enough guess to safely say that, whatever it is, it's not going to be pleasant."

"Any help you need, Scully, you know I'm just a phone call away. And don't worry about work. If you have to take leave that's fine. What matters most is that you get yourself health—"

"I know. I know that, but that's not what I came here to talk to you about."

"... Okay." He gives a small shake of his head. "What then? What's the favor?"

Scully draws her lower lip between her teeth.

"I need your help," she says slowly, "in reminding myself that my body can do more than feel pain. That it's more than just a vessel to get me from one place to another... I need you to help me remember why it's worth saving."

"I don't..." he starts, but his sentence trails off as she makes her approach over to him with a purposeful gait. She goes to stand between his legs and he opens them wider to give her space like the action is automatic. He tilts his head back to look dumbly up at her, and the change in dynamic—her above and him below—makes her feel some type of way low in her belly.

She reaches out and cups his face, tracing the line of his cheekbone with her thumb, and she sees his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. She thinks the picture may be becoming clear to him now.

"Scully—"

"You can tell me to leave," she cuts him off. "You can say no and I won't hold it against you. We don't ever have to talk about it again. But if you're willing..."

Mulder gives a breathy, disbelieving laugh.

"Scully, trust me, it's not a matter of whether or not I'm willing, but look at what all you've been through in the past couple days. I don't think you're thinking rationally, and I don't want to take advantage—"

"Not thinking rationally? Me?" She smiles a little as she pulls her hand back, making a point to drag her fingers slowly across his skin on the way, and she doesn't think she imagines him leaning into her touch. "Mulder, I appreciate your concern, but why don't you let me decide what I do and don't want to do."

"Scully..."

"Do you trust me?"

He lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Of course I do."

She takes hold of both of his wrists, and when she tugs his arms out to settle his hands on her hips she's met with slight resistance, but she knows it's just for show. She's not weak, but he's got plenty of strength to get away from her if he really wanted to. Instead, the pads of his fingers press into her pelvic bone, even after she's dropped her hold on his wrists.

"Then trust me when I say this is what I need from you," she says. She smirks and adds, "I told you it was unorthodox."

"You weren't kidding," he mutters, and fuck, his eyes are boring into hers so intensely she nearly shudders.

Sweatpants are not exactly ideal when it comes to maintaining modesty in sensitive situations, and Scully's effect on him does not go unnoticed. Her eyes dart down to the significant bulge between his thighs, and then back up to his face where he gives a bashful half-grin accompanied with a one-shouldered shrug, as if to say "can you blame me?"

"I won't hold it against you," she tells him again, "but I do want this."

"Fuck," Mulder breathes. He shuts his eyes for a beat, like he's trying to compose himself, and then blinks them back open, embers of an impending fire starting to glow behind his dilating pupils. "This is a bad idea," he tells her, stating it more like a fact than as a deterrent.

"Maybe," she agrees.

"We have to work together tomorrow. And the day after that. And after that one, too. You don't think this will... change things?"

"Not if we don't let it."

"You really think it's that simple?"

She considers the question. Considers whether or not she can learn what it's like to have him explore her body tonight, and then pretend like she didn't come morning.

"We're two consenting adults," she says, evading the question. "Has the thought of doing this really never crossed your mind?"

"That... That feels like a leading question."

"Would it make you feel better if I said that it has definitely crossed mine?"

"Jesus, Scully," he breathes, shifting in his seat and clutching her hips so tight that she won't be surprised if later she finds finger-shaped bruises on her skin, reminiscent of dusted prints at a crime scene.

"It's just sex, Mulder," but even as she says it, she knows it's a lie.

He knows it too, judging by the muscle twitching in his clenched jaw as he holds her eyes with a steady look.

"Is it?" he asks evenly, and they both know the answer is no.

No. Of course not. Sex could never be "just" anything between them, but the reason why is a topic they've come to an unspoken agreement to never acknowledge aloud. But Scully isn't stupid. She knows that the way electricity behaves between them—constantly thrumming and sparking, in tense situations as well as banal—isn't normal. Four years ago she dropped her robe in front of him in a candle lit hotel room, and she hasn't stopped feeling his gaze on her lower back since; the tender way his eyes roved over her delusive mosquito bites is as permanent a tattoo as the blood red ouroboros that has only recently lost its scabs.

The term "something more" is a vague and fanciful concept she would sooner dismiss as nothing but a perpetuation of commercialized romance, if she herself wasn't subjected to it on a near daily basis. Since day number one there has been an elusive "something more" surrounding them, fighting for their attention, even as they so ardently deny its existence.

So no, it isn't just sex, but Scully also didn't come here to give voice to the elephant that follows them from room to room. To put it plainly, she came here so he could fuck the will to live back into her body, and she refuses to lose sight of her mission.

So in lieu of a response—because she can't animate any elephants, but neither can she lie to a man who treats truth like the core tenet to his religion—she instead throws caution to the wind, swoops in, and kisses him.

Ice touches enamel. She wants it to burn.

Whatever reservations or protests he may have been fighting against must not be too hard to cast aside, because his response to her is instant, tilting his head to slot their lips together and kissing back so forcefully their teeth clack together. But even that doesn't, or maybe can't slow them down.

Mulder's hands move from her hips to her ass, and in a single swift movement he lifts her onto his lap. He swallows her surprised gasp as she straddles his thighs, his hard cock brushing her center, the layers of their clothing teasing her relentlessly when right now she needs skin-on-skin more than she needs air.

Mulder seems to be of the same mind, because one second she's sitting astride him fully clothed, and in the next he has somehow stripped her of her shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Returning the favor, she peels his off too, feeling like a kid at Christmas unwrapping the box she knows contains the best present under the tree.

Scully tries to recapture his lips, but he stills her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. He then leans back to get a good, long look at her.

"God, Scully," he whispers reverently, eyes trained on her chest. He reaches out to touch her, and when he does her breasts fit perfectly in his hands. Tentatively, and with such profound focus you'd think he was attempting to split an atom, he pinches her left nipple and rolls it experimentally between his index finger and thumb. It's such a simple touch, but it goes straight to her leaking cunt, and when she moans Mulder's attention darts back up to her face, the embers behind his eyes now a full-fledged forest fire, blazing a warpath through the trees. He makes it a point not to break her gaze when he leans in and takes the same nipple into his mouth.

"Mmm," she hums, letting her head loll back. He sucks the nub of her nipple taut, and involuntarily she bucks her hips in response.

Mulder mumbles something incoherent against her breast, and when she asks for clarification, he pulls away with an obscene pop and then nuzzles his face in the crook of her neck, saying, "You're everything."

Everything. Like he ran through the full gamut of adjectives and found himself wanting. Like she is so many things at once that there isn't a single word that encompasses the breadth of her worth to him.

You're everything.

It's the most overwhelming compliment she has ever received, because she wants, more than anything, to live up to it, and yet she's not even sure if she is going to be able to simply live, period. She's not sure when her greatest fear became failing him. It might have been the first time he ever challenged her. When she stood in front of his projector, veiled by the illuminated slides he'd already prepared for her arrival, as he quizzed her on chemistry, and causes of death, and the supposed limits of science in a vast and complex universe. She had wanted to prove herself to him then, and then just never stopped.

The truth of his influence over her is too much to handle right now, so she decides to kiss him again—an act that is quickly becoming her new favorite strategy for deflection—and then buries her fingers in his hair. She oscillates her hips in slow circles, taunting them both with light but consistent pressure on his cock. She feels him twitch in anticipation for her, and her pulse throbs in her cunt in turn.

"I want you," she whispers against his lips, but he shakes his head.

"No," he murmurs. "No, not yet."

Before she can ask him for clarification, he's lifting her up with a firm grip on the backs of her thighs, and then proceeds to lay her down lengthwise on the couch.

There's a manic energy wafting off of him in waves, and yet, in total contrast, the way he slides her leggings and panties down and off her legs is so purposeful and leisurely that she has the absurd thought that nobody has ever undressed her with such respect before.

When he kisses her soundly on the mouth and then begins making a trek down her body with his lips and tongue and an occasional nip of his teeth, she feels—for the first time since she stepped foot inside his apartment with this ludacris idea—a pang of apprehension.

For the most part, she isn't a self-conscious person. Once she got past the awkwardness of adolescence, she's had a fairly healthy relationship with her self-image. But that said, Mulder's intended destination is obvious, and she's had enough sexual partners turn their nose up at the suggestion that for a moment she worries he's only doing it because he thinks she expects it of him.

But then he settles himself in between her thighs and peers up at her with a hunger better fit for a man so far into starvation he's about to succumb to it, and she realizes then that while he may be able to read all the words on her every page, it is not a one-sided transparency. If ever there were to be a scholar on the topic of Fox William Mulder, she would be the one.

The apprehension, already fleeting in the first place, dissipates entirely, and she lets her legs fall open in invitation.

There is no hesitancy in his acceptance. He uses two fingers to part her labia, and then starts off by dragging the flat of his tongue from her soaking entrance up to her swollen clit in one long stroke, and that alone has her crying out, unconcerned about how she sounds or how thin the walls might be.

Never a man to miss important details, it's unsurprising the speed at which he masters the intricacies of her body. She knows he's paying attention to every miniscule shift in her body language by the way he adjusts the pressure and speed and direction of his mouth and tongue. When he slips one finger inside her, quickly following it up with a second, and pulses a come hither motion as he sucks on her aching clit she wants to sob. He eats cunt with the devotion of a holy man, and he makes her feel deserving of being worshipped.

This is why it's worth it to live. Because for every twinge and ache and pain her body is capable of, it is equally capable of so much good feeling that it could constitute a religious experience. That while there are always going to be moments of suffering, there are also going to be moments of pleasure, and to truly live you have to accept the full spectrum of what it means to possess a human body.

When the coiling heat in her cunt finally boils over, and she arches her back and cries out Mulder's name while a rapturous climax works through her, suspending time and space, she thinks to herself, over and over like a mantra—like a promise: This is what I'm fighting for. This is what I'm fighting for. This. Is what. I am fighting for.

When she comes back to herself enough to spring into action, she is barely conscious of her own movements, acting more on primal instinct as she yanks Mulder up and kisses him sloppily, licking into his mouth and tasting herself on his tongue as she manages to flip them so that he's lying on his back, panting up at her with blown pupils and parted lips.

She gets his sweatpants and boxers pulled down past his knees, and he kicks them the rest of the way off. He curses when she takes hold of him and guides him to her entrance, unable to wait to be filled by him any longer.

He's so big, and even with the slickness from her orgasm she has to take him in slowly, letting her cunt adjust to the stretch of him.

"There's so much of you," she groans, rocking her hips, slipping him in further inch by inch. He's holding onto her hips again, gripping her like she's a life preserver as he clenches his jaw, clearly trying his utmost not to thrust into her before she's ready for it.

"You feel... Jesus, Scully, there aren't words to describe how you feel," he says, strained between gritted teeth, and she's so thankful for him. For his patience. For his attention. For the "something more" between them that she doesn't dare give a name to, even in the privacy of her own mind.

When she finally takes him to the hilt, it feels like an accomplishment. Skewered between her legs on his massive cock, she has the same sense of satisfaction she gets when she pins him into a corner during a debate. Already he has infiltrated almost every aspect of her life, and now he's inside her body as well, and she understands what he meant before, because it's everything. He's everything.

She tells him so, and that's more than he can handle. After the words spill from her lips, he thrusts up into her, making her shout, but on the next thrust she meets him in a counter-rhythm, driving him impossibly deeper inside her. The apartment is full of the sounds and smells of sex as she begins to ride him in earnest. She plays with her own tits, and he watches her, rapt with attention, and when his breathing starts to hollow, he puts a hand between her legs and lets her rub her clit against him.

"Yes," she moans, riding him harder, shocked that he has her teetering on the edge again so soon. "God, yes. Mulder, I—I'm going to—"

She completes her sentence nonverbally, falling over the edge once more, and this time Mulder follows her. He's chanting nonsense syllables that are probably supposed to be her name, as she clenches around him and milks his cock dry, letting him fill her fully and completely. She wants to feel his spend leaking out of her later. She wants to feel bruised when she walks. She wants to remember every last second of tonight—even if they never speak of it again—because she is going to need the memories in order to face what's waiting for her come tomorrow.

When they've both returned to Earth, they stay joined together in silence for just a little longer, searching each other's faces, possibly for signs of regret, or maybe just for the sake of looking. He pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear and she lets her eyes flutter shut, leaning into the touch. Between her legs he's starting to soften. Her unorthodox favor has been fulfilled, and reality is hurtling back to them at speed.

"Thank you," she says, not opening her eyes.

He doesn't respond for a few beats, and then he says, "It's worth it, Scully. Remember it's worth it."

She nods.

It's so easy, she thinks, to be aware of her own mortality. To remember that she will die.

She vows now that, in the face of every upcoming obstacle, she will remind herself, often, that she can also live.

#poangpresents2024 #msr #msr fic #txf #txf fic #the x-files #diz writes conspiracies

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thesecondface · 6 months ago

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found myself belligerently staring at google maps today looking at some massive unnamed seamounts off the coast of scotland and thinking surely these must have been named. surely. if only because they are so big.

anyways they ARE named (this is the site for the naming of bathymetric features; pity google does not have an option to view these: https://www.ngdc.noaa.gov/gazetteer/ ) and look at what I found on the rockall plateau:

also quite appallingly from my quick 3am skim of google scholar there seem to be very few morphometric studies of sea floor features and even fewer geomorphological maps. would be SO interesting to do especially as these sorts of studies – based off morphology alone – are excellent for comparative planetology, except of course on Earth one can ground truth observations with (comparatively) easy sampling. This would be particularly useful for Venus – the higher atmospheric pressure suppresses vesiculation, so you get less explosive volcanism (lavas >> pyroclasts). Submarine volcanism would provide a pressure analogue to that. Pressures are 92 atm at the Venusian surface, which is about the same as volcanism 1km underwater on Earth – remembering that despite 3-4km depths here these seamounts have sunken, and so do not represent the water depths at the time of formation (hotter more buoyant crust during volcanism; cooling and subsidence after etc etc).

and LOOK at this beauty, the Edoras Bank – a chain of seamounts (sunken and eroded volcanoes) following a lineament. It's a shorter scale alignment than, e.g. the Emperor Seamount chain (c.2000km tracking plate motions over a stationary plume) so it's possible that the difference by an order of magnitude accounts for different genetic processes e.g. fault-controlled volcanism. Need to find a paper or something to find out.

And look at this, zoomed in – TONS of parasitic seamounts and guyots. Of course, on Earth things are very much shaped by erosion (on Venus the effects are much smaller). Also very interesting that there is one very sizeable seamount and a chain of smaller seamounts trailing on. Reminds me of pit crater "tadpole" chains on Venus (though that's a negative relief feature, while this is positive).

I'm rambling and really this has not much of a point (started with oh look, tolkien names and ended with venus rambles). Feel like I want to maybe in my spare time start digitising bits of this. Morphological mapping of the seafloor and whatnot on QGIS may be just the fun I need when procrastinating. also it's now 4am goodnight.

#geology #volcanology #help. I was meant to read and go to bed not this #tolkien #because why not right

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spotaus · 5 months ago

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Me frfr ^

I've been reading a fic today as a treat for finally being on vacation, and when I say I've just been entranced I mean it. (Also. The fic in question is @ancientschampionau 's well, Ancients & Champions fic lol! It's captivated me >:])

#spotatalk #N #I have to take a quick shower break and perhaps go consume some more food #but I wanted to do a quick doodle that turned into an animation because I love drawing N's tail lmao #and the blue blob was meant to be a Blahaj but I did not give enough energy to that one-#and RIGHT as I finished this Ancients posted a new git dang drabble for realage au so I know what I'm digging into later haha!#(bonus unrelated fact: my legs are too long for my bed so I usually end up doing exactly as pictured above lmao #doesn't help I don't actually use pillows but don't move them either si there's a chunk of unused space... ANYWAYS)#hi mutuals and followers and strangers you shoukd totally go read this fic #I'm on chapter 42 and am MUNCHING on it #one last note: me actually drawing my persona? huh??? that doesn't happen often?

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chloelouygo · 2 years ago

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Vent journal time babeyyyy

#i think the big quote is by one of the gallagers but idk which lmao #from a 2017 copy of NME i remember it so vividly ???#the old gods sticker is by Rogue Prints Co #the eden quote is my writing from 2017 also from nme #the good mental health line was from another old magazine about toursim in the city i used to live in (from an article on gardening)#tapes from paperchase (rip)#help us lines are from an old leaflet on social care i found at work #if anyone cares about any of that lmao #ive been feeling A Lot lately #about a lot of different things #and i haven't worked through most of it and im not aboit to start right this minute since im in a good mood rn #but lately I've felt crushed and numb and empty #i haven't been enjoying anything #every day I've pushed myself to do things that are meant to be good #ive been on top of doing my teeth and washing my hair #writing my diary and my duolingo practice #washing my face and reading and going to bed before 1am and eating fruit and veg #but i just feel like shit #every day i spend time outside and i exercise and idk i just do “what youre supposed to do” to fix depression #tryna CBT myself and it's failing hard lmao #i feel happy for a while and it fades away and im miserable again #i smile at everyone and i eat properly and talk to people and go through the motions of geing a human who isn't #isn't trying to worry anyone about how numb they feel #im just very good at looking like im happy when i actually feel very indifferent #and like im fine i feel okay right now but just ugh can i skip to the bit where i feel emotions besides apathy again please lmao #anyway #chloe's diary #journal #scrapbook #vent post

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acourtofquestions · 2 months ago

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Kingdom of Ash Chapter 54

Chapter; Highlights

Before battle tomorrow-before they might stand a chance of actually saving Anielle.

He was still working through all that had transpired these months he'd been gone. The battles and losses. Where Dorian had gone with Manon and the Thirteen. Chaol could only pray his friend was successful-and that he didn't take it upon himself to forge the Lock.

Needing to unravel all he'd learned, he'd left Aelin and the others near the Great Hall to find whatever food they could, immediately.

Part of him half wondered if the mare knew that his back ached, that he needed his cane, but that he chose to be here.

He ran a hand down her ebony mane, then patted her strong neck. "Ready to trample some Valg grunts tomorrow, my friend?"

Farasha huffed, angling a dark eye at him as if to say, Are you?

Chaol smiled, and Yrene laughed softly. "I should head back to the hall," his wife said.

"See who needs help." But she lingered. Their eyes met over Farasha's powerful back.

He came around the horse, still mindful of her biting. "I know," he said quietly. Yrene angled her head. "Know what?"

Chaol interlaced their fingers. And then laid their hands atop her still-flat abdomen.

"Oh," was all Yrene said, her mouth popping open. "I- How?"

Chaol's heart thundered. "It's true, then." Her golden eyes scanned his. "Do you want it to be?"

Chaol slid a hand against her cheek. "More than I ever realized."

Yrene's smile was wide and lovely enough to fracture his heart. "It's true," she breathed.

"How far along?"

"Almost two months."

He studied her stomach, the place that would soon swell with the child growing inside her. Their child. "You didn't tell me, I'm assuming, because you didn't want me to worry."

Yrene bit her lip. "Something like that."

He snorted. "And when you were waddling around, belly near bursting?"

Yrene whacked his arm. "I'm not going to waddle."

Chaol laughed, and tugged her into his arms. "You'll waddle beautifully, was what I meant to say." Yrene's laughter reverberated into him, and Chaol kissed the top of her head, her temple. "We're having a child," he murmured onto her hair.

Her arms came around him. "We are," she whispered. "But how did you know?"

"My father," Chaol grumbled, "apparently possesses better observational skills than I do." He felt, more than saw, her cringe. "You're not angry I didn't tell you?"

"No. I would have appreciated hearing it from your lips first, but I understand why you didn't want to say anything yet. Stupid as it might be," he added, nipping at her ear. Yrene jabbed him in the ribs, and he laughed again.

Laughed, even though every day they'd fought in this battle, every opponent he'd faced, he'd dreaded making a fatal mistake. Had been unable to forget that should he fall, he'd be taking them both with him.

Her arms tightened around him, and Yrene nestled her head against his chest. "You'll be a brilliant father," she said softly. "The most brilliant one to ever exist."

"High praise indeed, coming from a woman who wanted to toss me from the highest window of the Torre a few months ago."

"A healer would never be SO unprofessional."

Chaol grinned, and breathed in her scent before he pulled back and brushed his mouth against hers. "I am happier than I can ever express, Yrene, to share this with you. Anything you need, I am yours to command."

Her lips twitched upward. "Dangerous words."

But Chaol ran his thumb over her wedding band. "I'll have to win this war quickly, then, so I can have our house built by the summer."

She rolled her eyes. "A noble reason to defeat Erawan."

Chaol stole another kiss from her. "As much as I would like to show you just how much I am at your command," he said against her mouth,

"I have another matter to deal with before bed." Yrene's brows rose.

He grimaced. "I need to introduce Aelin to my father. Before they run into each other." The man hadn't been near the hall when they'd arrived, and Chaol had been too worried for Farasha's well-being to bother hunting him down.

Yrene cringed, though amusement sparked in her eyes. "Is it bad if I want to join you? And bring snacks?"

Chaol slung an arm around her shoulders, giving Farasha a farewell stroke before they left. Despite the cane, each step was limping, and the pain in his back lanced down his legs, but it was secondary. All of it, even the damned war, was secondary to the woman at his side.

To the future they'd build together.

As well as Yrene's conversation with Chaol had gone, that's how badly things went between Aelin Galathynius and his father.

Yrene didn't bring snacks, but that was only because by the time they reached the Great Hall, they had intercepted his father. Storming toward the room where Aelin and her companions had gone for a reprieve.

"Father," Chaol said, falling into step beside him. Yrene said nothing, monitoring Chaol's movements. The pain in his back had to be great, if he was limping this deeply, even while her magic refilled. She had no idea where he'd left his chair—if it had been crushed under falling debris. She prayed it had not.

His father snapped, "You fail to wake me when the Queen of Terrasen arrives at my castle?"

"It wasn't a priority." Chaol halted before the door that opened into the small chamber that had been vacated for the queen and knocked.

A grunt was the only confirmation before Yrene’s husband shouldered open the door enough to poke his head inside. "My father," Chaol said to whoever was inside, presumably the queen, "would like to see you."

Silence, then the rustling of clothes and steps.

Yrene kept back as Aelin Galathynius appeared, her face and hands clean, but clothes still dirty. At her side stood that towering, silver-haired Fae warrior-Rowan Whitethorn.

Whom the royals had spoken of with such fear and respect months ago. In the room, Lady Elide sat against the far wall, a tray of food beside her, and the giant white wolf lay sprawled on the ground, monitoring with half-lidded eyes.

A shock to see the shift, to realize these Fae might be powerful and ancient, but they still had one foot in the forest. The queen, it seemed, preferred the form as well, her delicately pointed ears half-hidden by her unbound hair.

Behind her, there was no sign of the golden-haired, melancholy warrior, Gavriel, or the utterly terrifying Lorcan. Thank Silba for that, at least.

Aelin left the door open, though their two court members remained seated. Bored, almost. "Well, now," was all the queen said as she stepped into the hall.

Chaol's father looked over the warrior-prince at her side. Then he turned his head toward Chaol and said, "I assume they met in Wendlyn. After you sent her there."

Yrene tensed at the taunting in the man's voice. Bastard. Horrible bastard.

Aelin clicked her tongue. "Yes, yes, let's get all that out of the way. Though I don't think your son really regrets it, does he?" Aelin's eyes shifted to Yrene, and Yrene tried not to flinch under that turquoise-and-gold stare. Different from the fire she'd beheld that night in Innish, but still full of that razor-sharp awareness.

Different-they were both different from the girls they'd been. A smile curved the queen's mouth. "I think he made out rather well for himself." She frowned up at her consort. "Yrene, at least, doesn't seem like the sort to hog the blankets and snore in one's ear all night."

Yrene coughed as Prince Rowan only smiled at the queen. "I don't mind your snoring," he said mildly.

Aelin's mouth twitched when she turned to Chaol's father. Yrene's own laughter died at the lack of light on the man's face. Chaol was tense as a drawn bowstring as the queen said to his father, "Don't waste your breath on taunts. I'm tired, and hungry, and it won't end well for you."

"This is my keep."

Aelin made a good show of gaping at the ceiling, the walls, the floors. "Is it really?"

Yrene had to duck her head to hide her grin. So did Chaol.

But Aelin said to the Lord of Anielle, "I trust you're not going to get in our way."

A line in the sand. Yrene's breath caught in her throat.

Chaol's father said simply, "Last I looked you were not Queen of Adarlan."

"No, but your son is Hand to the King, which means he outranks you." Aelin smiled with horrific sweetness at Chaol. "Haven't you told him that?"

Yrene and Aelin were no longer the girls they'd been in Innish, yes, but that wildfire still remained in the queen's spirit. Wildfire touched with insanity.

Chaol shrugged. "I figured I'd tell him when the time arose." His father glowered.

Prince Rowan, however, said to the man, "You've defended and prepared your people admirably. We have no plans to take that from you."

"I don't need the approval of Fae brutes," the lord sneered Aelin clapped Rowan on the shoulder.

"Brute. I like that. Better than 'buzzard,' right?"

Yrene had no idea what the queen was talking about, but she held in her laugh anyway.

Aelin sketched a mocking bow to the Lord of Anielle. "On that lovely parting note, we're going to finish up our dinners. Enjoy your evening, we'll see you on the battlements tomorrow, and please do rot in hell." Then Aelin was turning away, a hand guiding her husband inside. But not before the queen threw a grin over her shoulder to Yrene and Chaol and said, eyes bright—with joy and warmth this time, "Congratulations."

How she knew, Yrene had no idea. But the Fae possessed a preternatural sense of smell. Yrene smiled all the same as she bowed her head-just before Aelin slammed the door in the Lord of Anielle's face.

Chaol turned to his father, any hint of amusement expertly hidden. "Well, you saw her."

Chaol's father shook with what Yrene supposed was a combination of rage and humiliation, and stalked away. It was one of the finest sights Yrene had ever seen.

From Chaol's smile, she knew her husband felt the same.

"What a horrible man." Elide finished off her chicken leg before handing the other to Fenrys, who had shifted back into his Fae form. He tore into it with a growl of appreciation. "Poor Lord Chaol."

Aelin, her aching legs stretched out before her as she leaned against the wall, finished off her own portion of chicken, then dug into a hunk of dark bread. "Poor Chaol, poor his mother, poor his brother. Poor everyone who has to deal with him."

At the lone, narrow window of the room, monitoring the dark army hundreds of feet below, Rowan snorted. "You were in rare form tonight."

Aelin saluted him with her hunk of hearty oaten bread. "Anyone who interrupts my dinner risks paying the price."

Rowan rolled his eyes, but smiled. Just as Aelin had seen him smile when they'd both scented what was on Yrene. The child in her.

She was happy for Yrene-for them both.

Chaol deserved that joy, perhaps more than anyone. As much as her own mate.

Aelin didn't let the thoughts travel further.

Not as she finished her bread and came to the window, leaning against Rowan's side. He slid an arm around her shoulders, casual and easy.

None of them mentioned Maeve.

Elide and Fenrys continued eating in silence, giving them what privacy they could in the small, bare room they'd be sharing, sleeping on bedrolls. The Lord of Anielle, it seemed, did not share her appreciation for luxury. Or basic comforts for his guests. Like hot baths. Or beds.

"The men are terrified," Rowan said, gazing out at the levels of the keep below. "You can smell it."

"They've held this keep for days now. They know what's waiting for them at dawn."

"Their fear," Rowan said, his jaw tightening, "is proof they do not trust our allies.

Proof they don't trust the khagan's army to actually save them. It will make for sloppy fighters. Could create a weakness where there shouldn't be one."

"Perhaps you should have told Chaol," Aelin said.

"He could give them some motivational speech."

"I have a feeling Chaol has given them plenty. This sort of fear rots the soul."

"What's to be done for it, then?" Rowan shook his head. "I don't know." But she sensed he did know. Sensed that he wanted to say something else, and either their current company or some sort of hesitation barred him.

So Aelin didn't push, and surveyed the battlements with their patrolling soldiers, the sprawling, dark army beyond. Baying cries and howls rent the night, the sounds unearthly enough that they dragged a shudder down her spine.

"Is a land battle easier or worse than one at sea?" Aelin asked her husband, her mate, peering at his tattooed face.

She'd only faced the ships in Skull's Bay, and even that had been over relatively quickly.

And against the ilken who'd swarmed them in the Stone Marshes, it had been more an extermination than anything. Not what awaited them tomorrow. Not what her friends had fought on the Narrow Sea while she and Manon had been in the mirror, then with Maeve on the beach.

Rowan considered. "They're just as messy, but in different ways."

"I'd rather fight on land," Fenrys grumbled.

"Because no one likes the smell of wet dog?" Aelin asked over her shoulder.

Fenrys laughed. "Exactly because of that."

At least he was smiling again.

Rowan's mouth twitched, but his eyes were hard as he surveyed the enemy army.

"Tomorrow's battle will be just as brutal," he said. "But the plan is sound."

They'd be on the battlements with Chaol, readying for any desperate maneuvers Morath might attempt when they found themselves being herded and crushed by the khagan's army.

Elide would be with Yrene and the other healers in the Great Hall, helping the injured.

Where Lorcan and Gavriel would be, Aelin could only assume. Both had peeled off upon arriving, the latter taking watch somewhere, and the former likely brooding. But they'd probably be fighting right alongside them.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Gavriel slipped into the room. "The army looks quiet enough," he said by way of greeting, then unceremoniously dropped to the floor beside Fenrys and hauled the platter of chicken toward him. "The men are rife with fear, though. Days of defending these walls have worn on them." Rowan nodded, not bothering to tell the Lion they'd just discussed this as Gavriel ripped into the food. "We'll have to make sure they don't balk tomorrow, then."

Indeed.

"I was wondering," Elide said to none of them in particular after a moment. "Since Maeve is an imposter, who would rule Doranelle if she was banished with all the other Valg?"

"Or burned to a crisp," Fenrys muttered.

Aelin might have smiled grimly, but Elide's question settled into her. Gavriel slowly set down the chicken. Rowan's arm dropped from Aelin's shoulders. His pine-green eyes were wide. "You."

Aelin blinked. "There are others from Mab's line. Galan, or Aedion—"

"The throne passes through the maternal line-to a female only. Or it should have, Rowan said. "You're the sole female with a direct, undiluted claim to Mab's bloodline."

"And your household, Rowan," Gavriel said. "Someone in your household would have a claim on Mora's half of the throne."

"Sellene. It would go to her." Even as a prince, Rowan's own heritage connecting him to Mora's bloodline had thinned to the point of being in name only. Aelin was more closely related to Elide, probably to Chaol, too, than she was to Rowan, despite their distant ancestry.

"Well, Sellene can have it," Aelin said, wiping her hands of dust that was not there. "Doranelle's hers." She wouldn't set foot in that city again, Maeve or no. She wasn't sure if that made her a coward. She didn't dare reach for her magic's comforting rumble.

"The Little Folk truly knew," Fenrys mused, rubbing his jaw. "What you were."

They had always known her, the Little Folk. Had saved her life ten years ago, and saved their lives these past few weeks. They had known her, and left gifts for her. Tribute, she'd thought, to Brannon's Heir. Not to... Gavriel murmured, "The Faerie Queen of the West."

Silence.

Aelin blurted, "Is that an actual title?"

"It is now," Fenrys muttered. Aelin shot him a look.

"With Sellene as the Fae Queen of the East," Rowan mused.

No one spoke for a good minute.

Aelin sighed up at the ceiling. "What's another fancy title, I suppose?"

They didn't answer, and Aelin tried not to let the weight of that title settle too heavily. All it implied. That she might not only look after the Little Folk on this continent, but with the cadre, begin a new homeland for any Fae who might wish to join them. For any of the Fae who had survived the slaughter in Terrasen ten years ago and might wish to return.

A fool's dream. One that she would likely not come to see. To create.

"The Faerie Queen of the West," Aelin said, tasting the words on her tongue.

Wondering how long she'd get to call herself such.

From the heavy quiet, she knew her companions were contemplating the same. And from the pain in Rowan's eyes, the rage and determination, she knew he was already calculating if it might somehow spare her from the sacrificial altar.

But that would come later. After tomorrow. If they survived.

There was a gate, and eternity lay beyond its black archway.

But not for her. No, there would be no Afterworld for her.

The gods had built another coffin, this time crafting it of that dark, glimmering stone.

Stone her fire could never melt. Never pierce. The only way to escape was to become it—dissolve into it like sea-foam on a beach.

Every breath was thinner than the previous one. They had not put any holes in this coffin.

Beyond her confines, she knew a second coffin sat beside hers. Knew, because the muffled screams within still reached her here.

Two princesses, one golden and one silver.

One young and one ancient. Both the cost of sealing that gate to eternity.

The air would run out soon. She'd already lost too much of it in her frantic clawing at the stone. Her fingertips pulsed where she'd broken nails and skin.

Those female screams became quieter.

She should accept it, embrace it. Only when she did would the lid open.

The air was so hot, so precious. She could not get out, could not get out—

Aelin hauled herself into waking. The room remained dark, her companions' deep breathing holding steady.

Open, fresh air. The stars just visible through the narrow window.

No Wyrdstone coffin. No gate poised to devour her whole. But she knew they were watching, somehow. Those wretched gods. Even here, they were watching. Waiting.

A sacrifice. That's all she was to them.

Nausea churned in her gut, but Aelin ignored it, ignored the tremors rippling through her. The heat under her skin.

Aelin turned onto her side, nestling closer into Rowan's solid warmth, Elena's muffled screams still ringing in her ears.

No, she would not be helpless again.

#Chapter 54 #Kingdom of Ash #Sarah J. Maas #Chaol Westfall #Yrene Westfall #Lord Westfall #Fenrys Moonbeam #Aelin Galathynius #Elena Galathynius #Aelin Ashryver Galathynius #Rowan Whitethorn #no spoilers please #first read #read with me #read along #First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 54 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below #Hellas Horse aka Butterfly-Never again-A chance-let’s go babies!-waddlebeautifully lol-he wants to build her a house😭-maybe a nursery #when it’s all gone-together-prettier with you-they scared her from the flame-worse marks were left-she’s tired but she will #she fought she’s fighting-what’s real what is what was-whatever was left-the weeping always eases in the end-it’s lovely fracturing joy #dam Sarah not future you quote again ITS ALREADY BURNED ME ONCE-one foot in the forest-they share meals-don’t ask-line in the sand #wildfire touched with insanity-I mean how would she not be a little insane-admirable-and please do rot in hell lol-the meeting we needed #congrats they meant-they loved it about her-and Rowan-the casual easy lean on him QoS how far we’ve come *good for once*#it’s either laughing or crying so-the sort of fear that rots the soul-what then they didn’t know-he knew-lol the wet dog-watch and brooding #It’ll save her-not a coward-Mab again-the dearie queen of the west-HER-a fools dream but a dream nonetheless-he will do whatever he has to #the world didn’t know-never helpless again-he let her steal the warmth-finally their all having those talks-hi cousins again-2places at onc #Him taking care of the horse was kind-shes always helping-Farasha congrats ur the other1st2be told-happy moment cuz their having a bb #At least he was smiling again-all the names-faerie queen-couldve been worse noone got stabbed shes shad worse dinners-@her side #stood that towering Fae warrior-spokeWsuch fear&respect-Aelin shifted fae again-AGREED YRENE-i knew she’s a blanket hog lol41wfire powers #A line in the sand the titleOnly sweetness when its horrific Fae BastardLaughed anywaysBuzzard she said w love-tru joy&warmth #its bad if Elide hates you-l luv her feist-as her own implying Yrene is-wanting joy4them-No Maeve-no bed-the truth-just a name-stars

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