#i’m just constantly begging for attention and i’m so sick of it

[diaz-fox]

how do i stop being the one that cares more in most (if not all) of my relationships because i’m honestly getting kinda tired of it

[00-jammy-00]

YAN FUCK BOY HAS ME FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

Can you do a one-shot where he is constantly trying to get reader to sleep with him, but they are busy trying to maintain their own athletic scholarship?

-🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 anon

Yan!Fuckboy HC’s

Yan!Fuckboy x GN! Athletic! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, pathetic yan, nsfw mentions, horny yan

A/N - I wasn’t sure if you wanted this as an established relationship so I just made it like that anyway, I also tried to leave the sport as unlabelled as possible 😭 This is also a bit short so I’m sorry 🙏🙏

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Yan!Fuckboy who was never known as a patient man, especially when it came to things he wanted. So when his own partner decided that they would rather be playing sport than be around him? He felt like strangling the next person who came near him.

Yan!Fuckboy who will never deny that he loves seeing you play. I mean seeing your ass in that tight uniform stirred up all different kinds of feelings inside of him but when you were neglecting him for it? No.

Yan!Fuckboy who tried his usual tricks to get you to pay attention to him. When you closed your locker, he stood there leaning against it with a rose in his mouth, he would walk you to and from classes, he would drag you to his practices to show off how cool he was while also going to yours to cheer you on from the stands and yet none of it worked.

Yan!Fuckboy who quickly got irritated and started to whine, he clung to your arm constantly while begging you to touch him. He was soooo horny baby! Why couldn’t you see that?! Even when you were over at his house you told him that a comp was coming up so you couldn’t have sex. Now he had to play fucking animal crossing alone and he couldn’t even rant about his ugly villagers because you were too busy doing fucking sit ups.

Yan!Fuckboy who got sick of it when you stopped mid make out session to go practice because your alarm went off. You’re fucking joking. He was seething. You were so pretty when you were training but he’s getting so sick of it. He’s horny! He needs you!

Yan!Fuckboy who eventually just ripped you away from practice. He was your boyfriend, you were his. You were going to win anyway, he bribed every referee for your games so why the fuck were you worrying about this?!

Yan!Fuckboy who practically drags your ass into the bedroom. He was going to get his dick wet whether it was by him fucking you or you pounding him with your usual sweet, sweet hate sex. He was only satisfied after you both passed out

Yan!Fuckboy who cuddled you for days afterwards. He finally had you to himself without a single book in sight. Safe to say, when you won your next games, he gave you a good celebratory dinner and some even better sex.

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[artdcnaldson]

ARARARRARARARRARA

HIS RACKET

stop. ✋. i am unable to control and contain myself. i need mean mean mean art to fuck pats sister with his racket after losing a match because she was distracting him. she was constantly crossing and uncrossing her legs, short short skirt, flashing him her pretty panties. need him to taunt her and tell her how his racket barely fits in her tiny little virgin pussy :(((( but stuff her full of it anyway :((((( he really is doing anything to keep himself from putting his cock in her :(((( i need him i feel sick and horny. it's now his favorite racket and his lucky charm i'm dying

-🐞

RAHHHHHHHHH

Like god. Just thinking of you showing up to one of his matches in a little denim miniskirt and one of his Stanford tennis shirts you stole <3 you look so sweet, you cheer the loudest every time he manages to get a point.

He usually wouldn’t be able to see you very well from down on the court, but, god, you’re front row and he can see the flash of white panties beneath your skirt, the bounce of your tits when you excitedly cheer. And maybe you were earnestly cheering for him, you didn’t even realize what you were doing, but that brainless look you give him when he confronts you after the match just frustrates him even more.

“I’m sorry you lost, Art,” you say as you follow him inside his dorm like a lost puppy. The fact that he didn’t stop you was exciting, like maybe he as going to break finally, that he saw how much you cared. “But you looked so great out there. You should’ve won. I think the line judges totally fucked you ov—“

He has you pinned against the door and you go quiet. “I would’ve won,” he says firmly. “If you hadn’t been flashing your panties like a fucking groupie.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh… I didn’t mean to.” Which was a lie. Of course it fucking was.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes you fucking did. You’d do anything if it meant you’d have something filling your pussy.”

Something flashes in your eyes. Excitement? Shock?

His hand moves between your thighs, feeling the damp spot on your panties. “How long have you been wet?”

A shaky breath escapes you as his fingers press against the seam of your pussy, avoiding your clit with each pass. “Art—“ you whine, embarrassment dripping from your tone.

Why should you be embarrassed, though? You were the one slutting yourself out for his attention, weren’t you? Flashing your panties, throwing yourself at him at any chance. He’d done much worse to you, touched you in ways that were unforgivable. At least, they would be to Patrick.

It’s infuriating, that you have the audacity to act like some demure fucking virgin. Like you haven’t fucked yourself on his bed, haven’t gotten off to him degrading you and cumming down your throat.

But you don’t even have to answer. He knows that you’ve been soaked since the second you sat down in the stands, that your little body has been absolutely thrumming with need and want. That you’d dressed that way with the intentions of getting him so riled up he’d need to take it out on you.

And he would. He’d give you something to stuff you full, keep you satisfied.

“Lay down,” he says, and you obey so easily. You settle on top of his bed, chest heaving with anticipation. He slips your panties down your legs, he can practically smell your need. He wants to just bury his face between your thighs, lick at your core until your taste is all he knows. Make you cum again and again and again until your clit feels numb and you beg for him to stop. “You want me to fill you up, hm?”

You nod, irises practically swallowed by your lust-blown pupils. “Mhmm. Please, Art.”

A smile spreads across his lips. “Yeah? And you’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?”

You nod, almost frantic. “Yes, anything.”

He wants to save the image of your expression in his memory forever. Your wide eyes, the way your teeth dig into your bottom lip. As he grabs a racket from his bag. It’s new, the handle freshly wrapped. You let out a soft noise, involuntary as you look at it. “Art—“

He tosses the racket a few times in his hand. “I thought you said anything?”

You make a face. “I don’t think it’ll fit. I’m a v—“

“A virgin,” he finishes for you, dripping condescension. “Sure, but I know your fingers aren’t cutting it when you fuck yourself. What do you use, huh? Did you and your little friends buy pink sparkly dildos at the mall?”

Your face burns and you look away. It’s too specific of a description, and you know he knows. That he’d snooped one of the times that he had to carry you back to your dorm and found your stash of toys and the fucking spank bank under your bed. Which was mortifying in and of itself— you had fucking clip outs of him from the campus newspaper and posters of the Men’s tennis team in there. You hated that he knew just how obsessed you were with him.

“It’ll fit,” he says. “I’ll even warm you up first. I’ll give you my fingers. I’m not that mean.”

Your tongue darts out, wets those pretty lips of yours. And you nod.

His finger slides in so easily that he almost moans. You’re so warm, so tight around him, slick and obscenely wet. One finger and you’re reduced to mewls and whines. Little pants of yes, so good, thank you, art art art.

Your body accommodates him so easy, opening up like a flower for him. A second finger plunges inside your cunt and your juices drip down his fingers, down your ass. You’re wetter than anyone he’s been with before. It’s not just that you’re a virgin— he’d fucked virgins before— it’s that you’re so fucking obsessed with him.

“You really are tight,” his voice comes out a little shaky, affected. How could it not when he has three fingers knuckle deep in your sweet, virgin pussy? When your walls clench and flutter around the intrusion, when you get wetter and wetter so his fingers squelch with each thrust in? “I don’t know if it’ll fit. But we’re gonna try, aren’t we?”

Yes, Yes, Yes. The response falls from your lips like prayer, like worship.

He waits until you’re all pliant and relaxed beneath him, moaning prettily. When your pussy feels supple and opens like it needs to take more. He grabs the racket and he almost backs out, almost stops himself, but you look at him with hunger and want. You need to impress him so badly— to accept whatever he gives him.

There’s a first time for everything. He tries his best to slick up the handle with lube, not that you’re lacking in that department. He watches your cunt pulse, your hole clenching as he practically jacks off the tennis racket. Oh, you want it so bad.

“Hold your legs up,” he instructs. You’re chewing on your lip as you do, tucking your hands beneath your knees, leaving your cunt exposed and glistening in the shitty light of his dorm room. “Relax. You wanted it, so lay there and take it.”

He presses the handle against your cunt, listens to the slightest intake of breath as it breaches your tight entrance, as your body stretches to accommodate it. It’s a stretch, god, it’s obscene. Your tiny little pussy wrapped around the handle like it’s a dick.

“Ah, f-fuck—“ You’re whimpering, crying for it, little feet kicking as he presses it in deeper. “Big— it’s big.”

He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, and you’ve pushed that limit many times before. He’s fantasized about it before, the idea of it. Of some faceless, nameless woman lying all spread out beneath him, crying out with pornstar moans while he fucks her with the handle of his racket after a game.

He blamed Patrick for that one. For planting that seed.

But now he has you. Lying beneath him with your face screwed up in pleasure, your mouth ajar as he pushes it deeper, deeper, deeper. “Tell me how it feels,” he goads once it’s fully sheathed inside of you.

It takes a moment for the question to register— he sees it in the lazy blink in your eyes, how they’re glassy when they meet his.

“Mmm… so— so full,” you moan. Your expression is akin to disappointment as he slowly withdraws the racket, only to push it back in. Your eyes roll back, toes curl and flex.

“You don’t feel gross? No shame at all?” He asks.

You should. You definitely should, but right then you can’t find it in yourself to. You shake your head. “I just— nghh— just want whatever you give me.”

God. You shouldn’t tell him that, shouldn’t willingly hand over that much power. His head swims with it.

“No fucking self respect” he mutters. “Jesus Christ. Such a fucking slut.”

But that just encourages you. “Just your slut, Art, all yours.”

God, you’re so fucking wet, dripping down to your asshole, down onto the sheets. He figures he could make you squirt, that you’d let him play with your pussy until you gushed like a fountain. He could probably do anything he wanted and you’d take it with a smile.

“You need t’ cum?”

You nod quickly, moaning. “Fuck— yeah, so bad, Art, so fucking bad.” Your cunt squeezes around the handle of the racket, like your body is trying to suck it deeper. “Touch me— touch me, I need—“

He knows what you need. And he shouldn’t. But what the fuck is he holding back for at this point? He moves his free hand to your clit, rubs in firm circles as he shallowly thrusts the racket.

The cries that escape you are like music to him, so delicious, so fucking debauched. Your feet kick pathetically, your back arches off the bed. It’s almost adorable.

“You have ten seconds before I stop,” he warns. You cry weakly, grind your hips up against the handle as he fucks you with it. He counts aloud, watches the way your breath heaves as you get closer. He can practically feel your racing heartbeat in your clit.

“C-cumming, cumming—“ you whine. He’s at two— your body is right on the edge, you want it so bad.

“Come on, give it to me,” his voice is low, rough with need. He meets your gaze, and he grins at how wrecked you are, how pathetic he can make you.

You cum just like that, leave a ring of cream at the top of the handle as he fucks you through it. He reduces you into weak moans, makes you go limp beneath him.

When he eases the handle out, he marvels at the sight of your pussy, smeared with arousal, swollen and open for him. He rubs his thumb against your clit and he watches your hole twitch for him, still wanting anything you can give.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. He should have taken a picture.

[velocesainz]

Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to

A/n: this was a very interesting request and it took me quite a while to really get the plot line. Hope you enjoy!

One heart broke six hands bloody

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: Charles and Lando are in a relationship with reader and they slowly stop paying attention to her and missing important events. The last straw is when they miss your birthday.

Warnings: sad, angstyy, hurt

Pairing: Charles x Lando x reader

Reader pov:

It had been nearly five months since they started acting distant to me.

I don’t know why.

We were so good all together

It was like we completed each other

But recently they’ve really started to distance themselves and ignore me.

Constantly say they have meetings and leave home when I know they don’t drive I’m in contact with their teammates

Were they both cheating on me?

I woke up in our shared bed with nobody by my side.

I went on about my day realising they both had left for some sort of meeting with their respective teams

They returned home late at night completely wasted

“Where were you two? I’ve been worried sick! I called you both so many times, why didn’t you guys pick up?” I questioned

“Oh shut up mom.” Was all Lando said before they both left to go to bed

The next day was one I would usually be excited for but maybe not this year

My birthday

I would usually celebrate it with my two boyfriends but they seem to not want to spend time with me at all

I walked into the kitchen to see them scrolling on Charles’s giggling and whispering to Lando about something. They would do that with me too but I guess not anymore.

“Hey guys, what’s for breakfast?” I asked them seeing they had made their breakfast already

“Oh..we didn’t make you any. We thought you would do it yourself” Charles said

I sighed and went upstairs to get ready, my appetite knocked out by his words

I got dressed and left the house watching them not care

I hung out around Monaco since I had no friends here, just Charles and Lando

It started raining and I was freezing on my way back to our apartment. As I walked in I found them on their game not bothering to focus on anything but that and each other

“Hey I’m back” I announced as best as I could in my feverish voice due to the intense shivering

“Yea yea whatever just make us dinner” Lando said

What is up with them?

“You can do that yourself. In fact you guys should have done it for me at least today of all days”

They looked at me and asked “What are you talking about?”

I give up on these two

“It was my birthday today and you guys didn’t even bother to wish me or spend time with me. You both have been so secretive and distant from and it feels like you have fallen out of love. I’m leaving. I’m not dealing with this shit any longer”

I walked up to my bedroom and started packing the essentials

Charles pov

How did we not realise we were hurting our dearest so much?

We were ignoring her as we were going to propose to her and knew Lando wouldn’t keep his mouth shut if he started talking

We were so stressed about getting the perfect rings that we completely neglected y/n

Me and Lando looked at each other and chased after her to the bedroom to see her packing her things

“Cheri please don’t leave us we apologise for our horrible behaviour” I begged

“We were working on something very important and in that stress we completely neglected we’re extremely sorry” Lando said

“I don’t care for your explanations. My state of mind has not been good thanks to you two and I refuse to worsen it. I’m leaving and that’s final” she said

All our hearts were breaking as she said this. We ruined a beautiful relationship because we cared about materialistic things over our actual love for each other.

Now there was nothing we could do anymore.

She packed her bags and left the apartment telling us not to follow her and we’d broken her heart enough I’m sure she wouldn’t want to listen to us anymore.

One heart broke and left six hands bloody.

A/n: I’m sorry I took super long to finish this request. Hope you enjoyed and make sure to leave feedback! Kissies ✨

[aajjks]

please please PLEASE! (m)

synopsis. He’s a determined man, and he knows a magical word, please.

warnings. ännöyïng köö, hë häs göt thë fättëst crüsh ön yöu, përsuätïön, bêggïng, tsündërë yn, evïl bräïnêd köö, cütê köö, mänïpülätïön, cöcky köö.

He is kinda cringe but yk yolo.

note. HEYYYY I already miss him so.. I wrote this in like 37 minutes.. kinda rough kind of cringe but you know… and based on the interactions and reactions, this will get this may become a little Drabble series. OK OK NOW ENJOY. AND PLEASE SEND ME SOME FEEDBACK OR ASKS THEY MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY.

“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE YN!”

When are you ever going to agree?

Do you know that he cannot sleep because of you? Do you know that he’s not even able to eat without feeling sick to his stomach, ALL BECAUSE OF YOU.

You are very evil. Jungkook thinks that you are very mean, insensitive! You are evily beautiful, frustratingly sexy and awfully perfect.

He HATES you.

“You evil woman! I hate you!” He’s crying, he’s devastatingly frustrated right now. He has been persuading you for a month. But you still haven’t agreed.

He looks up at you, you look bored. He’s on his knees, his hands resting on your thighs, he’s got tears in his eyes, “JUST ONE DATE!” He chokes out.

He’s looking at you constantly, but it doesn’t have an effect on you, you’re looking at your nails while he’s begging you. “I said no.” You shrug, he scoffs. What is your problem? He’s hot. He earns well. AND HE LIKES YOU A LOT.

So why won’t you give him a chance?

“JUST ONE DATEEE PLEASE.” he sounds really cringe and desperate. He’s a grown man. But he’s on his knees, begging you. “Ynnnnnnn!” Are you enjoying this? he’s sure.

He doesn’t mind entertaining you, but… he really wants you.

“Yn!” He whines, he’s even tired of crying and screaming. His throat feels dry now. He stares at you dumbfounded. You are one stubborn woman.

But he’s also very stubborn, and he knows you very well, your reason to not go on a date with him our date is very ridiculous in his opinion..

He rolls his eyes. You are about to say it.

“No kook. You’re my best friend.”

Of course he’s your best friend, that is the problem.

“BUT I LIKE YOU.” He argues back, biting his lower lip, he doesn’t know how to get you to agree. Even though he knows you very well… he’s not sure.

But one thing is for sure, he won’t stop annoying you until you agree.

You don’t reply, still looking at your manicured nails. They take his attention as well, distracting him. They are a pretty color of brown, with a gray sparkly French tip.

He loves your hands so much.

“FINE.” Jungkook pouts. “because of you, I’m gonna die alone.” of course guilt tripping has to work. You’ll have to agree now.

He has been your best friend for the longest time ever, and he knows that you cannot see him sad. He’s liked you for as long as he can remember.

And you know that very well.

“Yn… you make me very sad.” He turns his eyes away from you. And he feels your gaze shifting to his face. He can feel the heat of your gaze suddenly.

He smirks.

He feels kind of evil, but he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.

“Y-You know I’ve liked you for the longest time! A-AND IT CAN BE KIND OF WEIRD TO DATE YOUR BEST FRIEND, BUT… just one chance.” He speaks in a very low sad tone.

Crossing his hands across his chest. And then he hears you sigh. “You are a very evil man, kook.” His ears perk up, you are definitely about to agree.

His hard work is finally starting to pay off. Maybe begging you for the last couple of weeks… was worth it after all. He’s got a goofy smile on his face, you can’t see it because he’s turned his face away from you.

“Ugh… don’t give me the silent treatment… I can hear your pout.” he is sure you’re rolling your eyes right now. The thing is that you both know each other very very well.

That’s why you are perfect for each other.

Go on… go on go on!!!

“Okay fine. UGH DON’T MAKE ME REGRET IT.” You say, finally giving in.

And at the speed of light, he turns his head, almost breaking his neck. Jungkook is looking at you with wide eyes. His mouth is agape.

Did he hear you right?

“SAY THAT AGAIN!” Standing up, he giggles. Clapping his hands like a toddler. He knows he’s annoying the fuck out of you right now, but a man’s got to celebrate.

“OH MY GOD YN Thank you I promise you won’t regret it and you will want to date me every single lifetime of yours.” He smirks, his changing from desperate to cocky in 00.0 seconds.

He winks at you while you give him the middle finger.

“You are going to want me so bad after this. I WON.” He Throws his hand into the air, doing a dramatic pose.

“Now I’ve gotta go!!! GO TO PREPARE FOR THE DATE. It has to be perfect. Bye bye ynnnnnn!!!! I love you.” He blows you a flying kiss before yeeting out of your home.

You just hope you won’t regret this.

[borathae]

"Using your safeword isn't easy for you."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Angst, Hurt and Comfort

Warnings: this is angstier than I wanted it to be, implied sexual situation, use of handcuffs, she uses her safeword, she gets hurt because she panics, panic attacks, mention of past sexual abuse during her sexwork, besties this is really angsty like omfg, it has a happy ending!

Wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: i wanna give her the biggest hug ever. this was requested by anonie, have fun(?)dude it's angst idk if you can have fun) reading 💗

You are roleplaying tonight. Jungkook has the lead while you are the sub. You feel good. He is gentle, sexy, attentive and constantly asks for consent. You feel so good until suddenly you don’t. 

You can’t explain what triggered it. Maybe it was the way he touched your knee. Maybe it was the sudden loud noise of a motorbike driving by. Maybe it was nothing and it just happened. 

But all of a sudden the good turns bad and you feel incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Red!” you blurt out and then everything becomes just a little blurry, “red! Red! No, I don’t want this! Red!” you are begging even if there is no need to beg because Jungkook is already scrambling to get you untied. 

“I’m getting it! Everything’s okay! You’re safe!” he is almost falling over his own words, feeling dizzy in worry. He wants to work fast, but it is difficult because you are fighting the restraints. Like a scared, captured animal trying to escape, “p-please don’t m-move so much. I-I’ll hurt you, please.”

You consented to wearing handcuffs and up until two seconds ago, you liked it. It was hot and sensual and made you feel relaxed because it meant that you could give up control without being tempted to intervene. 

Right now it means that you have zero control over what will happen to you and you would rather cut off your own hands than be restrained even a second longer.

“Red! I don’t like this”, you are fighting the handcuffs and that’s when it happens. You hurt yourself. 

Because of the excessive wiggling, the handcuffs dug into your wrists and forced a nerve to squish between your muscles. 

“Ah, oh my god it hurts”, you get and cry. You rarely cry, but right now you are scared and anxious and in pain.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. Please stay still, I’m getting you out”, Jungkook says with a trembling voice and undoes the handcuffs with shaking hands. He is panting for air, feeling sick in anxiety. Seeing you cry is rare. Seeing you cry from pain is even rarer. 

Once free, you clutch your own wrist, pressing it against your chest.

“It hurts”, you get out, sobbing loudly.

“Oh god”, Jungkook gags out, reaching for you only to stop in case he scared you, “my love, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m such an asshole, oh god I’m sorry.”

You can’t assure him right now. You aren’t scared of him, neither are you angry at him. And yet you still can’t reassure him. Not when you’re that scared. 

“I don’t want this”, you sob, reaching for him like a drowning person would a lifeline.

Jungkook catches your hands and holds them tightly, staring at your hurt wrist with tears streaming down his face.

“My love, I’m sorry.”

You can’t reassure him yet. You need to be held. To be comforted. To be reminded that you aren’t going to get hurt. It happened so many times. You didn’t want to continue and yet your clients didn’t care. You were tied up and literally helpless and they took advantage of it. 

You need to be reminded that this isn’t your reality anymore. That you are safe.

You seek out Jungkook, getting between his legs and pressing yourself against his chest. You are so much smaller than on other days, as if your own anxiety was shrinking you. 

“It’s okay, my love. It’s okay, I’m here”, Jungkook assures you, hugging you tightly as his fingers smooth over your hair. He is swaying your bodies slowly, pressing kisses to whatever parts of your head he can reach, “I know, baby, I know. I’m here, baby, I’m here.” 

This isn’t your normal panic. Jungkook knows every pattern, inhale, exhale and shake. This is one of your panic attacks. It has been years since he last witnessed something like this, but he still knows what to do. He won’t ever forget the remedies to your attacks. They’re in there next to how you like your coffee in the morning and what weather makes you happy. They’re proof that he loves you and that he always will.

“Breathe with me, baby. It’s hard, but I need you to breathe with me”, Jungkook speaks gently, showing you how it’s done patiently. It’s difficult for you to follow at first, but Jungkook gives you all the time you need, which takes so much pressure off of you. It gets easy to try and match your breathing with his’ when he is so incredibly patient with you. 

“That’s it. Breathe with me, babygirl, breathe. That’s it”, he whispers, breathing with you. 

It calms him as well. He is sick in anxiety. To hear you scream your safeword and start crying in panic is awful enough, but to have you hurt yourself on top of everything and cry because of it, ruined Jungkook. He is so upset and anxious, that showing you how to breathe is calming him down as well. It’s sweet in a twisted way that in providing you your remedy, he is healing himself as well. 

You don’t want to lift your head at first. The attack stopped, but you don’t want to lift your head. You feel humiliated. 

You haven’t felt that embarrassed in front of Jungkook ever since you met him. 

You get a panic attack because of a stupid fucking noise. You feel fucking pathetic. 

You push yourself off of him and out of the hug, getting off of bed without looking at him. 

“___ my love?” he calls for you, staring at you with teary eyes. 

“I need to be alone”, you say and leave the playroom. You’re too embarrassed to face him. 

If one would ask you how to define this moment in your relationship, it wouldn’t be a good one. Dark. That’s how you would describe it. Dark and fucking heartbreaking.

Jungkook follows you, calling your name which you try to ignore. You are so embarrassed.

Jungkook runs after you as you descend the stairs in stumbles and sobs. You are so humiliated, feeling even worse because you have no clothes to cover yourself with.

“My love, please talk to me, please”, Jungkook begs, “I’m so sorry for triggering you. I didn’t wanna trigger you, please don’t run away. Please, I’m so sorry.”

You flee into the bedroom. Jungkook catches the door you try to slam close and slips inside after you.

“Please talk to me, please”, he squeaks out, “I’m so sorry.”

You try to hide in the bathroom. Jungkook isn’t fast enough. The door closes before his nose and locks.

“Please”, he begs, resting his head against the door, “I’m so sorry please believe me, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t think that the panic attack really stopped. Maybe the worst stopped, but you still feel anxious. Having Jungkook beg for your forgiveness behind closed doors isn’t helping. You are prancing, gripping your own hair in distress.

“What can I do? I, I want to help.”

Why did your life have to fuck you up so fucking bad? Why did men do this to you? Why did you have to go through this? Questions you haven’t asked yourself in years come back to haunt you. Why? Why? Why? The word repeats itself in your mind over and over again.

“I’m so sorry, my love.”

Why were these men so cruel? Why were your screamed words silent to them? Why did they hurt you so much?

“Please don’t hate me now.”

Your head turns into the direction of the door. Jungkook’s sobs broke through your racing thoughts and reminded you that you weren’t alone right now, that you have your person looking out for you. And that you currently make him feel as if you hated him.

“Please don’t lock me out, please. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t mean to trigger you. Oh god, I’m so fucking sorry, my love.”

The door unlocks and opens. Jungkook stumbles because he didn’t expect it. He blinks his tears away, meeting your teary eyes.

“My love”, he presses out, contorting his face in painful guilt, “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, hoping that he understands that he doesn’t need to feel sorry. You reach for him. Jungkook meets you in the middle and tugs you close, guiding your arms around his waist and cradling you in his arms seconds later. He presses your head against his chest, hiding you away from the world.

“Kookie.”

“Come here, babygirl. I’m here”, he gets out, holding you safely.

The once bared state of your body doesn’t feel humiliating anymore. He is naked as well, reconnecting with you skin against skin. He smells like home. Warm, sweet, safe. As long as you are in his arms, it’s not scary out there.

“I have to tell you something”, you get out.

“Okay. Okay, yes. Tell me baby, tell me”, Jungkook gives you the chance and so you tell him why you reacted the way you did.

Jungkook knows that your life before him wasn’t easy. You told him enough that he isn’t surprised when you flee from anxious situations and why you sometimes revert to pulling away. He knows that such trauma responses can come back even if your life is safe and happy these days. He knows because you told him enough. He also knows that the work you had to do to survive hurt you a lot before you started working at Paradis. He never knew how it hurt you however.

You didn’t feel brave enough to tell him. Tonight it is finally spilling out of you, leaving you in sobs and hiccups and struggles for air, but it is leaving you. Jungkook understands you even when you are crying and fighting for words. He will always understand you, even if he wishes that tonight he didn’t. He can’t believe that the world hurt his treasure in such ways. He feels heartbroken, sick to the stomach and unbearably angry. He keeps asking you what their names were, telling you that he will hunt them down and bring them so justice. You can’t tell him their names because you never learned them. And eventhough you feel humiliated in sharing something so fucking embarrassing with the person you love so much, you can’t stop. It feels so good to finally relief yourself of those memories and in the process, find comfort in his arms.

“I’m sorry”, you whisper. You are in bed by now, lying in his arms with your face nuzzled against his chest.

“For what?” Jungkook whispers, staring at the sheets with dark eyes. He is so fucking angry at the men who hurt you.

“For telling you all of this.”

“Don’t apologise for that. Holy shit baby, don’t ever fucking apologise for that”, he assures you, tilting your head up gently, “I, I just wish that I could do more. That I could make those motherfuckers pay.”

“Yeah, me too”, you whisper, looking into his eyes. You feel numb from all the talking you did, shivering even when under the blanket, “you don’t see me differently now, do you?”

Jungkook shakes his head vigorously and vehemently, furrowing his brows to showcase how serious he was.

“Of course I fucking don’t. I’m glad you told me. Thank you”, he says and brushes his thumb over your cheek. You close your eyes, melting into the gentle touch. It feels so good to be loved by him. Jungkook continues caressing your cheek as he talks, looking at you with soft eyes, “I know it wasn’t easy, so thank you for trusting me and I wanna carry this burden with you from now. Yeah?”

“No. No, please don’t call it like that. I don’t wanna burden you”, you say, looking up at him with anxious eyes.

“You don’t burden me.”

“I, I don’t wanna be looked at differently, please Kook. Don’t, don’t look at me differently now.”

“I won’t, baby. I won’t”, he assures you, kissing your forehead in hopes of calming your thoughts.

“I just s-struggle with submitting. I, I do. It’s so hard to, to do for me be-because of what they did to me and, and the bike was so loud and it triggered me and I’m sorry. I don’t wanna, wanna burden you, I don’t-”

“Shut up”, Jungkook whispers softly, hugging you against his chest, “stop saying that you burden me. You don’t. Let’s take a deep breath together, yeah?”

You breathe with Jungkook.

“There we go”, he praises and caresses the back of your head, “I need you to listen to me now without getting upset, okay?”

You nod your head, listening to him with closed eyes.

“You just told me something which you kept deep inside and now it’s out there and other people know it. I get it, shit like that embarrasses you.”

You shift because he is reading you like an open book and it is just a little uncomfortable. Jungkook lets you wiggle, but still holds you safely, kissing the crown of your head to let you know that you were safe. He keeps talking with his lips against your head.

“And when shit embarrasses you, you wanna run away. I get it, shit like that’s scary, but you don’t gotta be scared alone. I’m right here. With you. And I’ll stay with you. Fucking shit ___, you’re my person. My fucking person”, he says, squeezing you against him gently. He continues talking even if his voice is muffled from the close proximity, “I met you when your life was messy as fuck, I fell for you despite the mess and eventhough we fixed our messy lives these days, I’m aware that darker days can sometimes happen.”

He buries his fingers in your hair as deep as your texture allows it and begins massaging your scalp.

“___ baby, I don’t only love you when life’s good and nice and bright. I also love you when it’s messy and shit and fucking dark. And when you tell me stuff from your past, I’ll get a little upset yeah, but not because of you but because someone hurt my fucking babygirl. Shit, I just wanna protect you from what you had to go through and fight whoever hurt you, but I won’t ever see you differently. Because you’re my person, ___ baby and you’ll always be my person. Okay?”

You nod your head, letting out a small hum of acknowledgment.

“Okay”, he says, kissing your hair, “now, can I take a look at your wrist or do you not feel ready yet?”

You nod your head, “yeah”, you say and scoot back to show him your wrist. You are lying down while Jungkook props himself up on his elbow. He seems so much taller and bigger than you like this and tonight you really need this feeling. You’re strong, confident and rarely need another person to lean on. You are also proud of being so strong and so independent, but all the strength in the world doesn’t mean that you will always feel this way. That you will always be the one wanting to take care of Jungkook or that you won’t ever need to feel small and fragile. You’re just a fucking human and person with feelings which can be hurt so easily. You don’t feel strong tonight or independent. You feel tiny and weak and need Jungkook to take care of you without judgment.

“I can’t see anything. Where does it hurt?” he says, holding your wrist gently as he runs his thumb over your tender skin.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I think I just squeezed a nerve”, you speak quietly because you can’t do it any other way, “I’m sorry for wiggling so much and for using my safeword.”

“Hey”, he shakes you by your wrist gently, “sorry’s your forbidden word tonight.”

“Sorry, I mean, yeah I know.”

Jungkook guides your wrist to his lips and kisses it gently.

“I’m glad you used your safeword. Thank you for trusting me. I just hope that you don’t feel unsafe with me now.”

“No, I don’t. I feel safe”, you say, looking up at him from the pillow. Jungkook studies you and how small you make yourself in his presence whilst looking so relaxed doing so. He also knows how much this means with you, feeling reassured that what you are saying is true.

“Thank you for telling me”, he says, relaxing his shoulders, “I felt like throwing up when you cried and then you ran away and I seriously thought that I fucked it.”

“You didn’t.”

“Good yeah, that’s good. You know”, he says and cups your cheek, “I like it when I’m dominant and we can switch the roles, but if you don’t want to switch, I won’t be angry at you. You don’t have to sub just to make me happy. Especially when it means that you have to think of what those assholes did to you.”

“I normally don’t feel this way or think of it. I don’t know why this happened tonight.”

“Something triggered it. It’s sometimes impossible to explain triggers, I get it”, he assures you, “I’m just saying all that because I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything you’re not a hundred percent comfortable with.”

“I know”, you say, gazing up at him, “I feel safe with you and I didn’t feel uncomfortable whenever we switched in the past. I even wanna try it with handcuffs again, I do. I just…I don’t think today was a good mental health day for me. It all got too much.”

“And that’s okay. It got too much and you stopped it, that’s all that matters. I know it was hard for you because of your past experiences, but you did it despite that and you did it so well.”

You look at him because you have to make sure that he is real. He makes you feel so safe without even trying, healing wounds you thought never able to heal. So this is what it feels like to have someone to rely on. It’s been years with him and yet you still sometimes have to pinch yourself to make sure it’s real.

“I feel like I ruined it, seriously”, you confess.

“No you didn’t ruin anything, my love. You really didn’t”, he assures you.

“I’m so embarrassed”, you tear up, “I feel so much shame around my past.”

“Don’t, please don’t. Especially not with me”, he speaks softly, shaking his head vigorously, “this isn’t something you need to be ashamed of. Those assholes who hurt you should be the ones to feel shame, but not you.”

You sniffle, speaking squeakily, “can you tell me one more time that you don’t see me different now?”

“I’ll tell you a million times more if you need it. Of course, I don’t see you differently. You’re my person and I fucking adore you”, Jungkook promises, giving you a reassuring smile.

One you retort honestly and gladly. It feels good to be able to smile after everything which happened. Life really doesn’t seem that difficult when you’re with Jungkook.

“Thank you. I love you so much”, you whisper.

“I love you too, baby”, Jungkook says without hesitation, tracing the small smile lines next to your eyes, “now, why don’t you let me take care of you for tonight, mhm? I’ll run you a hot bath, give you a little face massage because I know your jaw’s tight from crying”, he smoothes his thumb over your jaw, “then we’ll order snackies from your favourite place and watch your favourite show, where I’ll give you so many snuggles and kisses until you fall asleep and I can carry you to bed for even more snuggles. How’s that sound?”

You nod your head.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Amazing”, he says and giggles, “then we’ll do that, baby. Now come on, wrap your arms around me. I’ll carry you. You don’t gotta be strong tonight.”

He’s right. You don’t have to be strong tonight. He’s got you and he always will.

[em-harlsnow]

there’s a huge difference between the way frank and terry were as parents and i’m not just talking about the ‘levels’ of abuse.

so we see that frank has his ‘good father’ moments with most of the kids. we don’t see it with ian or lip, but we see it with the other kids. we see how carl idolises him when he’s young and thinks frank is trying to save him by shaving his head when frank said he had cancer. we see how debbie adores him when frank ends up in mexico and how frank completely ruins that. we see how fiona sometimes shares these moments with her father where you can tell she loves him and cares about him, no matter what he’s done.

and then there are the very few moments when frank does actually seem like a good dad. like when he took the fall for some of carl’s drug things with the police. and when he was sober for a week and making everything fun and happy. there are probably a couple more that i can’t think of right now.

but all that makes it SO much worse when frank fucks up again. it’s as if every time he does something shitty it’s a huge shock to everyone. you can see the complete surprise and devastation on fiona’s face when she finds out it was frank who called CPS (maybe she didn’t think he’d stoop so low, but still) and when he called out sean at her wedding. you can see the anger when frank ruined debbie’s school project and the shock for everyone when frank headbuts ian.

we know frank has been an awful parent for a while, based on fiona’s stories in court and ian’s stories about being locked in the basement, but every time it’s a bit of a horrible surprise because he does good things every once in a while. it’s so sad, because lip says that he didn’t know frank would go back to his usual shittiness when he got sober again when lip was a kid.

terry was very different though. we don’t know as much about how he was when mickey and mandy and the others were kids, but we know a little. so, terry was much more physically abusive than frank was, and had fewer ‘good father’ moments. therefore, none of his kids were surprised at anything he did. mickey isn’t shocked when terry brings svetlana round, he thought terry would actually kill him.

so it’s hard in a different way, because then terry will every so often drop in a little compliment. like when mickey says that terry was ‘proud’ when he caught a knife. and when terry tells mickey he could’ve been a good son. it’s these stupid compliments which leave the kids constantly begging for that positive attention no matter how awful he is.

the bar is at a constant low for terry, so the highs seem more amazing. for frank, i think the bar is at a low as well, but slightly higher because he’s not constantly abusing the kids, he’s more neglectful, and frank has more peaks in his ‘goodness’ which make him so much worse when he has the awful moments.

frank leaves his kids with hope for a good future when he’s sober, which is always disappointed. terry leaves his kids with a constant feeling of needing to be better as they strive for his approval.

frank is inconsistent, which hurts a lot, and terry is consistent with a few sick compliments about what should be considered bad behaviour in his kids.

i don’t know if this made much sense, but i wanted to blab about the different styles of abuse and emphasises the fact that frank is made MORE awful by the ‘good’ things he does for his kids, not less awful.

[tiredfox64]

Hi Hi! I love you’re writings for Havik, it’s so hard to find any good Havik fics. Could you do Havik with an s/o who’s ex was abusive and they’re use to being bossed around and doing chores for their partner (like cooking, and cleaning for them and waiting for permission to do things)

You Have Freedom

Prior notes: Tbh using Havik is genius ngl. Make me wanna give him a kiss.

Pairing: Havik x Gn reader

Warnings ‼️: Mention of abusive/ toxic relationships, mention of violence, angst with happy ending

Relationship after relationship. It’s amazing that you are still standing. Though mentally you may have gained some issues since people in this world can’t act right.

Some partners never got over their ex. Some partners never took care of their own health. Some partners were just sick in the head and liked to mess with you.

It wasn’t you, you just had some bad luck and ran in the arms of the wrong people. You found comfort in the chaos that you were so used to. It wasn’t your choice it’s just how your brain started to be molded into needing. Your heart wanted something better. You deserved better than this. Not being forced to make a man who barely looks at you to cook him a meal or discourage you from wearing the clothes you want. But how does one break out from the cycle without getting hurt? Well, you might need some outside help.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Another crumby date with your sleazebag of a boyfriend. He couldn’t even give you a decent date night. Going to the bar and ignoring you to talk to his buddies while flirting with other people in front of you is not a date. But he will gaslight you and tell you so many things.

“You’re crazy, that never happened.” “You’re so insecure this is why I don’t take you out.” “I was buying you drinks the whole time is that not enough attention for you.”

You don’t even like drinking let alone constantly having Jägerbombs which he took for himself. He just wanted an excuse to get drunk that’s why he called this a “date”. You hate when he’s drunk. He gets more irrational and occasionally violent. He’s currently going off about how you are ruining the vibe by sulking. Now he says the clothes that he approved are too slutty while a priest would beg to differ that you are extremely modest. You’re on the verge of crying when suddenly you both hear footsteps coming your way in the dark night. Only a quarter of the moon is showing which makes it harder to see who is coming. Closer and closer these heavy footsteps come your way until what little natural light could be shined shows a man. A very scary looking man.

He’s hunched over yet he still looks taller than you. You could see his head is not aimed towards your direction but your boyfriend’s. Your boyfriend in his drunken state starts yelling and cussing him out when he has done no wrong. You tried to make him stop but he pushed you off of him, almost making you fall while he begin to yell derogatory terms at you. This seemed to displease the other man who came closer and closer until he was right at your boyfriend’s face. When he stood up straight you saw that he was much bigger than your boyfriend. He was tall and seemingly stronger. The moon light finally showed some of his face when you saw the lower half was mangled. You were frozen, unsure of what to do.

Your boyfriend booked it out of there, not even looking back at you. He was horrified and knew he fucked up. You were left alone with this scary looking man.

“Heh, pathetic. I’ve never seen such a weak man before.” He spoke in a gravely voice.

You just stared without saying a word. He began to walk off and you kept looking at him. He sensed you were still staring and turn back.

“What, too afraid to move? Did I scare you that much?” He might have been teasing you but you’re not sure.

“I’m afraid to walk home alone.”

Well that was a shock. You weren’t scared of him but you were scared of being alone. He won’t lie that seemed kinda cute. Your prick of a boyfriend did leave you behind so he felt like you deserved to at least get home safety. He walked back to you, staring down at you with that mangled face, before gesturing you to follow him. You did so without hesitation.

The ball started to roll without you knowing. This was the start of something good. The start of something with a Seidan who calls himself Havik.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Letting Havik into your home after he walked you back was the best decision you’ve made in a while. Though at first you were scared by his scars and his violent attire that didn’t change the fact he was calm with you. That calmness never went away.

Yes, he isn’t the most stable person around. You’ve seen him rip his own arm off to smack someone but that person he was smacking was your ex so it’s okay.

He never told you to stop crying. Even on the walk home you bursted out crying from that whole night. Havik didn’t immediately comfort you but when you were almost done crying he lightly wiped your tears away with his clawed hand. The metal that grazed your face was slightly confronted. And then he proceeded to lick the tears off his hands but let’s just overlook that.

You have felt safe with him around. He’s like a scary guard dog that you see as a protective softie. But in the back of your mind you worried that he would turn on you just like all your other exes. It’s starts with caring about you, than they slowly start to get aggravated and aggressive, then the love bombing starts, and a new vicious cycle starts.

This time is different, I promise.

You first tested him when your friends invited you out. A new club opened and you are still young you just had to go. They thought you were single now so they said you could dress however you wanted. But your concern was if Havik would be okay with it.

When you walked up to him he was sharpening the blade he usually had on his left arm. You swallowed hard as you hoped this wouldn’t turn nasty. You had the clothes you wanted to wear in your hands.

“Havik, my friends asked me if I could go out with them tonight. Am I allowed to go.” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself to be yelled at.

“You don’t have to ask me. It’s up to you. Do you want to go?” He responded so quickly you wondered if he took in what you said.

“Yes, I want to go. And I want to wear this,” you showed him the outfit, “Am I allowed to wear this?”

“Wear what you are comfortable with. If you want to go out with your chest out go ahead, you should be allowed to do that without anyone holding you back.” He grumbled not because of you but that the fact that if you did go out with your chest out you would be shamed.

This wasn’t the usual response for you. Usually it’s a no, why do you need to go out, are you gonna hook up with other guys, stupid incriminating things like that. It’s not that Havik doesn’t care, it’s more like he doesn’t care what you want to do just as long as you are sure you want to do so.

“Did you need me to cook you something before leaving? Does something need to be cleaned?” You were sounding all panicky as if you were being tricked. Like there was a catch and you had to do certain things before you were allowed to leave.

Havik stopped what he was doing and looked at you. For a second you thought you messed up by asking too many things and you ended up annoying him. He got up from where he was sitting and slowly made his way towards you. You flinched but didn’t run since that usually got you into more trouble before. Once he was right in front of you his hand went up and started petting you at the top of your head. You were calm again. This man in front of you is not like the others in your past.

“Were you looking for an excuse not to go out or are you worried something bad will happen when coming home?” He asked.

“No I just…was making sure,” you seemed almost out of it, “I’m gonna get ready now.”

You walked off and did as you said. You got ready and let your friends know that you would be going out. They were more than happy to hear that news. You checked with Havik one more time if it was alright but just one look at him told you it was alright. Actually wait! He has something to say. He came up to you quickly and you thought this was the moment. Nope, he just ripped his arm off and tried to hand it to you.

“Carry this with you if anyone decides to bother you.” He advised.

“I can’t carry a severed arm around! Are you crazy?!”

Uh duh, he is a little coo coo in the head.

“It’s fine. You can just smack them with it and they’ll be out. You should try it, it’s liberating.” He’s still trying to make you take his arm.

“Havik, no, stop. I’ll go to jail.”

“I will break you out. It is your right to beat someone up if they are bothering you.”

He’s not getting it but the gesture is nice. No Havik, they won’t take the knife either. Clubs don’t allow that.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

This was a big change for you and it was a good change. Your friends saw how happier you were now. They thought it was the single life. No, it was because you started to see that you were finally in a healthy spot in life. You are with a man who lets you know that you have a choice.

The night ended and your friends brought you back home. The house was quiet. When you went all the way up to your bedroom you saw Havik seemingly sleeping in your bed. And of course he was taking up the whole bed.

You started to undress and put on your sleep wear before you heard him speak in a sleepy voice.

“Did you enjoy yourself? Did anyone bother you?” He asked.

“I enjoyed myself and no, no one bothered me luckily.” The tone in your voice portrayed how happy you were which was a nice change.

“I can’t go hunting for someone?” He asked

“You can’t go hunting for someone, no.” You replied

Havik is glad no one bothered you but he did want an excuse to go after someone. Oh well, he’ll just pick at random again.

You slipped into bed with the little space you had on your side. As you were about to ask Havik if he was fine with cuddling you he was already on it. He dragged you in, nuzzling his face against yours as an act of affection. He would give you a kiss but…ya know. But you can still give him a kiss!

You kissed him all over, even the exposed flesh since you didn’t fear it anymore. You were happy to have him in your life now. A man that many would fear but you see as the sweetest guy you have ever dated. Knowing how long it took for you to get this lucky made you cry. It was hard to tell if it was from joy or the fact that it took time before you gained something good. He licked your tears away before he rested his head on top of yours. He squeezed you tight to him, almost giving off a sort of comfort that a weighted blanket would give.

“One day, I will give you a world where you are free to do whatever you want. No one will tell you what to do or what you need to do. You will be free. I’ll set everyone who has been controlled free. If I can’t free everyone, at least I can free you.”

He knew exactly what to say to you. He knows what you’ve been through. Never again. As long as he lives and thrives he won’t let that happen. He opposes control. There is only freedom and love with that freedom. Do what you want, wear what you want, cook what you want, eat what you want, do you boo boo. He will support you. And you will support him with whatever he wants to do.

There is no insecurities, denials, cheating, lies, and manipulation. There is only freedom and love between you and Havik.

Now rest, you’ve had a long eventful day. Your new beginning has started and you are excited to see what will come of this.

Though I advise you keep a towel near your bed. Havik drools in his sleep. Like a lot. Don’t be surprised when you wake up with wet hair, that was him. Sorry, I don’t make the mangled man’s rules.

After notes: Truly I hope no one ever goes through shit like this. It’s not even something like a you should have this experience once type of thing. I hope none of y’all experience what I’ve experienced in past relationships cause it is no joke. But I hope something like this can bring others comfort. Adiós!

[zer0brainc3lls]

Newtmas headcanons pt2!

Newt and Thomas both read and they just sit in bed together reading all the time, ever so often gasping and going "you'll never guess what just happened-"

Newt is a chronic clothes THIEF. he doesn't buy baggy clothes because he will just go and steal Thomas's stuff 😭 "its not your shirt, its OUR shirt. big difference." "I BOUGHT IT?!" "AND I PICKED IT FOR YOU!" "YEAH I SEE WHY NOW"

Thomas would see little trinkets or flowers and just give it to Newt with little to no context except maybe "for you!" "i found this" Newt has kept every single one. he presses the flowers and keeps them in a book, the trinkets are in a box.

Newt got told by a doctor he should be using a cane, Newt refused but made the fatal mistake of complaining to Thomas about it.. Newt now has a cane decorated with stickers.

before Newt got the flare he had a weaker immune system then the other guys (aka they have really strong immune systems and his was just normal so everyone thought his was weak) but after he got the flare and got cured it ACTUALLY got weak, like a cold for someone else will have him in bed for days vomiting :( Thomas however almost never gets sick.. so he takes care of sick Newt OFTEN

Newt loves taking care of plants, Thomas cannot keep them alive.

Thomas is wearing shorts in the freezing cold, Newt is in multiple layers the moment the temperate gets even slightly cold

Newt is a flower crown/bracelet WARRIOR. Anytime Thomas comes home with flowers he found if he has enough Newt makes them into bracelets for Thomas to wear around (sometimes he makes crowns but he usually makes bracelets because it’s more practical for Thomas)

Thomas won’t take the bracelets off unless he’s showering/sleeping (so they don’t break) and will wear them till they have withered off

Thomas BEGGED Newt to teach him how to plait hair, once he got it down he plaits Newts hair for him

Thomas sometimes has a hard time focusing, and will sometimes not look at people while they are talking (not in a rude way!!) and Newt will just tap him on the shoulder if it’s someone else but if Thomas is “ignoring” HIM.. yk that move he did to frypan when he was looking at Teresa? Yeah. That gets Thomas’s attention alright 😭 example:

Newt: yeah so then-

Thomas: *staring off into the distance, fiddling with his hands deep in thought*

Newt: *rolls his eyes and grabs Thomas’s face and makes him look at him* y’know you’re s’pose to look at people when they talk to ya Tommy

Thomas: *red in the face* uhm- yeah you’re right- sorry what did you say hun?

(Newt knows this gets Thomas flustered btw. Uses it to his upmost advantage)

When Newt got the cure (I’m insane) he still suffered from the rare burst of anger/paranoia and on very very bad days hallucinations, since he was past the gone when he got the cure. No where near as bad to when he had the flare but still bad none the less, Thomas reassures him constantly and helps him calm down.

Being sick is a massiveee trigger for Newt. Fever, flu, vomiting you name it he’s on edge. Sometimes he gets in his own head and second guesses if he’s really cured but once again Thomas saves the day and is always there for him when he’s sick, staying home more to make sure he’s ok. (Writing a small fic about this btw!!!)

Newt is a back rub fanatic. Loves them. Receiving end or giving he does NOT care!! Thomas figured this out and whenever Newt is upset Thomas rubs his back

Fav kiss placements (giving and receiving):

Newt: gives cheek and neck kisses, loves receiving normal, forehead/hair kisses & neck kisses

Thomas: gives normal, just all over Newts face & neck kisses, loves receiving neck kisses and cheek kisses

More on neck kisses specifically there is a reason beside lust!! Its pulse points, reminds them that this is infact real and the other is ok :)

When they hold hands they sometimes check each others pulses out of habit, if in a uncomfortable scenario one will check the others and if it’s higher they gesture with a head nod if the other wants to leave

They both underestimate their own injuries, the other freaks out when the other is slightly sick/injured because in the scorch tiny cuts or the flu were very dangerous. Not much medicine or anything. Even in the safe haven, it’s a habit they won’t get rid of convinced it keeps them safe. They had a rule in the scorch that they had to tell the other if they were injuried since they own they themselves won’t see it as a big deal. Example:

*in the safe haven*

Thomas: hey Newt I got this cut on my hand today *shows palm, slight cut still bleeding*

Newt: *eyes widen in shock, grabbing Thomas’s hand careful not to touch the wound dragging him away*

Brenda: where are you going?!

Newt: to bandage it!! *tugs Thomas’s faster*

They do the whole deal. Cleaning, bandaging double checking etc :( poor boys

Newt tops, Thomas bottoms. No further questions!!

They are NOT picky eaters. At all. Plates fully clean, they do have favourites though

Newt: he loves sweet foods but also loves spicy food, adores pineapple with his whole heart

Thomas: loves salty food, not the biggest fan of spice. Loves carrots and apples though (the carrot one is canon I think)

Going on about food, they share food without question. Apple? Cut in half. Got a snack? Got extra for the other. The other still has food on their plate (very rare) the other will finish it off.

In the wicked facility whenever Thomas ever saw Newt besides sneaking out (rare af) sometimes they would purposely bump into each other just for an excuse to say hi, very very quickly whispering anything important before being ushered away

Sometimes, the others wouldn’t be there when Thomas snuck around so there were a handful of times it was just Thomas and Newt. Newt remembers this and told Thomas, Thomas however doesn’t and is very sad about it. :(

They have perfected lip reading to a tee. Having full on silent convos while everyone else is just like “really?! AGAIN?” Example:

*Newt and Thomas silently talking, gesturing a fuckton with there faces*

Minho: *whispers to Brenda* I’m slowly figuring out that lil shucking language they got going on

Brenda: *whispers back* how?!

They started learning in the scorch, since they rarely got a moment alone they would silently talk strategy. Slowly but surely it turned into silent flirting in the safe haven so Newt will just mouth something and and Thomas will go OUTLOUD “NEWT. NOT HERE!!” “Tommy they don’t know what I’m saying remember??” “… oh yeah”

Before they got together they got into heated arguments and even got slightly physical, all jokes of course but they would shove eachother around and grabbing each others shirts to “emphasise their point” (GAYYYY 🫵🫵🫵🫵)

Another long yap session, expect more. Also new lil fic on working on but do not threat!! I bet on losing dogs chapter 4 IS COMING OUT SOON. And I may write a short lil spin off of Thomas’s worst flare moments in his pov if yall would enjoy that. And soon one of my moots requested a Jeff x reader fic I usually don’t write those but that will be out soon too!!

[woso-fan13]

Whumptober 2023: 15 (Barca)

No. 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

It was so easy to hide. Although you were usually relatively active on social media, you had a backlog of photos that you wanted to post. Nobody noticed that you were posting photos from previous months, and, if they did, nobody cared. 

You had mastered the art of ignoring a phone call and texting the person back after a few minutes apologizing for missing their call. Your teammates knew that you lived on a random schedule, it wasn’t hard to convince them that you actually had completely missed the dozen calls that you had received that day. You hadn’t, watching your phone screen, waiting for the call to go to voicemail every time. 

You called out of practice for the week, insisting that you were sick. Once this week had passed, there were a few scheduled days off. You could take almost two weeks to try and regain control over yourself. You were spiraling, but no one could know. No one would know. 

—-

A persistent knock grabs your attention. You had previously been zoned out in the living room for an undetermined amount of time. You try to ignore the sound and go back into your haze, but the pounding repeats. Again and again. 

Finally, you pull yourself up from the floor, making your way to the door. Expecting a delivery that needs to be signed for or a salesperson, you open the door without looking through the peephole. 

That was a mistake. A very mad Lucy Bronze is standing, hands on her hips. 

“Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N,” she says sternly, “where have you been? The whole team’s been worried about you, you’ve been ignoring us.”

You don’t respond, staring down at the floor in the doorway. Lucy grows more impatient. 

“I’m waiting. You better have a bloody good explanation, young lady.”

“I’m sorry.”

It's barely a whisper. It’s all you can say, but you know it won’t satisfy her. 

“You’re sorry?! You’re sorry?! No, you’re sorry when you hit someone with a football, or when you make a mistake. You’re not ‘sorry’ when you disappear. You’re not ‘sorry’ when you leave the team.”

Lucy is ranting at this point, her anger clear. Every ‘sorry’ she said was spit, mocking you harshly.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Lucy heaves a sigh, breathing in deeply. She’s trying to control herself, you know it. You would understand if she kept yelling. She should keep yelling, you have let everyone down. That’s all you do- constantly disappointing people. 

It’s silent for a moment, Lucy refocusing. She looks at you for the first time, really looks at you. She sees the lack of colour in your face- your normally rosie cheeks drained to an almost translucent. She sees the dark circles under your eyes, begging for rest. She sees the red rims around your eyes, sees the dried tear tracks. She also sees the fresh tears pooling, likely a result of her harsh words. 

Oh. She feels like a terrible bully. 

“Y/N, kiddo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that, I was just scared. No one’s heard from you in over a week, we were all worried. I shouldn’t have shouted, I’m sorry.”

You shrug, whispering, “it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” she says firmly before lowering her voice to just above a whisper and repeating, “it’s not okay.”

Silence fills the air, neither of you know what to say. Lucy’s deciding how to best convince you to let her in, you’re deciding if it would be more effective to talk Lucy into leaving or to simply slam the door and lock it quickly. You’re leaning towards the second option. 

“Can I come in?” she asks. 

Every part of you is screaming not to let her in. Every part of you is screaming that if you let her in, she’s going to find out everything. Every part of you is screaming that if you let her in and she finds out the truth, she’ll leave you. 

And, yet, you nod. You step aside, letting her in. 

She smiles softly, stepping forward. She waits until you shut the door and turn to head back into the main area, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. She pulls you tight to her side, the touch firm. 

The two of you walk to the living room, settling on the sofa. It’s quiet again, the silence suffocating. But neither of you can say a word. 

“I’m okay,” you insist, knowing that’s what she needs to hear, “I can handle things myself. You should go.”

That was good. Maybe she would leave, walk right out the door. Maybe, maybe, if she walked out now, she could walk back in later. If she stayed, she would walk out and stay away. 

Lucy looks closely at you, as if trying to read you. 

“You’re not okay.”

You go to insist that you’re fine, but as your mouth opens, you’re cut off. 

“You’re not okay.”

And something, somewhere breaks. You throw towards Lucy, tears already dripping off of your face. You bury your head into her chest, your breath stuttering. She doesn’t know what to do. 

“That’s it, get it all out,” she says. 

She pulls you to be sitting in her lap, facing her as she hugs your body tightly. Your head is pressed into her neck, the skin instantly turning wet. 

“Good, get it all out. Nice, deep breaths. Good girl, big breaths. Keep taking those nice, big breaths. You’re going to be okay, everything’s going to be okay. I’m right here, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

She continues speaking quietly to you, the words soothing. One of her hands is cradling the back of your head, the other running firmly up and down your back. The pressure helps calm you, and Lucy knows this. It’s also the reason that her cheek is pressed to the top of your head, grounding you. 

Lucy knows you. And Lucy’s here. She’s not going anywhere, firmly connected to you now. 

[witchthewriter]

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!    

Warnings: book & show spoilers

a/n: I’m trying to write the characters as a mixture of the book and show. Some of the characters act quite differently in the books and it’s a bit difficult to pin point their personality, but I hope I do them justice. Thank you for reading xx

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿  

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: Everyone is settling down into their own homes. I don’t care what is canon and what’s not.

𝐊𝐚𝐳

・Likes things to be in their place. If they aren’t where they left them than he goes into a bit of a tizzy

   “Y/n! Y/n I specifically left them right here and they aren’t right. Here. Where have they gone??”

  “No, you moved them because you thought they were too vulnerable sitting there. Look in the third shelf down to your left.”

*Does what you tell him to do* *is embarrassed* *thanks you but not above a whisper*

・You have a lot of nice things in your home, but the most expensive things are usually the jewels and the jewelry that Kaz has gifted you

・He has a lot of the same clothing, so when you open his side of the closet there’s just ... black ... oh and grey

・His cane is never too far from where he is

・Despises the idea of getting a pet

・And you have to beg and beg

・But none of it worked

・So you had to come up with a plan. It was quite manipulative but hey, how else would you have caught Kaz’s attention?

・The dog you have now was once a puppy who had “accidentally” followed you home

   “How did it follow you home? We live in Ketterdam, there are a million homes here.”

“I guess it liked...me...”

・He ordered it out

・But you didn’t listen and somehow, the pup had wiggled its way into Kaz’s heart

・He swore he wasn’t going to pick up any poops, but that too was a lie

𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚

・Once settled in, she comes to realise that she really enjoys the finer things in life

・Big bed, silks, many many pillows

・A big bath with hot water straight from the tap

・She adores a long hot bath, lots of bubbles, with lavender and chamomile, candles, and a good book to read - or just to lay there and soak

・She hates waking up early, but is the first one to crawl into bed (she just really likes being in bed)

・Has her own drawing nook - a desk near a big window where she can get natural light. Many types of pencils, quills, inks, etc. She draws people, memories, landscapes, dreams

・Her drawings are framed and are all over the house

・There’s also a library; a room with a cosy corner that has all kinds of books; fiction and non fiction - historical, religious, fantasy etc

・Oh and she adores having the fire going. She wants it on even if it’s barely even cold

・But she hates chopping wood, so when you tell her that it isn’t cold enough for a fire, she’ll go outside and use The Cut to get the wood.

・Loves when you braid her hair; loves it even more when you give her head a lil massage too

・She fusses over you whenever you’re sick. Making you soup, remembering remedies from her upbringing in the orphanage.

・If you burn yourself, cut or have any other injuries, she is constantly checking on it to make sure it doesn’t get infected

・She doesn’t mind doing the laundry - if it means you’ll fold afterwards

・There are a lot of different oils, perfumes, bath products, hair products all over the bathroom

𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢

・Yes, he is used to being treated like royalty

・But he’s also experienced life on a ship - and that isn’t pretty (at all...it’s quite awful)

・Yet he has seen his destiny as being a ruler, so the biggest change in both of your lifestyles is ... you

・You would have to learn how to live during court

・You couldn’t just leave your chambers in your pajamas (I mean ... you could but drama would start at court most definitely)

・Both you and Nikolai obviously share the same chambers, and actually you both have your own wing in the castle (So I guess you could just stay in your pajamas if you wanted)

・It’s basically having your own home - or huge apartment

・The majority of the decor is white with gold trimmings and accents. Nikolai said you could change whatever you want

・The castle is never quiet, and there are always people coming and going, but your chambers are very very quiet.

・Nikolai doesn’t snore but does talk in his sleep

・It’s nonsensical, but it’s usually about the dreams he’s having

・You have servants that come and clean up after both you and Nikolai

・When Nikolai is finished for the day, he trots up to your shared wing and slumps against the door once it’s closed

・He sighs undoing his buttons, but you like to be the one to do that

𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐣

・Still very quiet around the home, so you get used to seeing her in different parts of the house in a small amount of time

    “I swear, sometimes there’s two of you!” You once grumbled, while cleaning up a broken tea cup because she popped up out of nowhere

・Doesn’t like loud sudden noises, so you live a bit from civilisation. Not too far though.

・She gets on really well with cats

・You’d end up adopting two kittens that were the only survivors of a litter

・They were tiny, covered in fleas and skinny as can be. But you both fed them, bathed them and made sure they survived

・One is called Umbra, and the other Sol

・You both take on the styling of the home. Inej quite likes the cottage-esque look. However she does want to honor her heritage and there are a lot of colourful cloth that drapes across the ceiling

・Inej had Jesper insert a rod that holds a long silk cloth so that she can practice her acrobatic skills

・Jesper visits as often as he can, and is usually found hung over in the spare bedroom

・As does Nina, who likes to ask what’s for dinner hours before dinnertime (usually an hour after eating lunch)

・You own the land, with Inej’s name not involved - you didn’t want her to feel tied down. And that she could leave whenever she desired

・Although it’s Suli culture to be travellers, Inej said she did want to be apart of the deed and you were more than happy to change it

・Inej doesn’t sleep very often; she knows when her body needs it but other than that, she really cannot get to sleep

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐬

・Loves the feeling of a cosy home

・Has actually gone off to cry because living with you in such a lovely, warm, safe environment made him overwhelmed with happiness

・I have this feeling that you would be the type of person to rescue animals and Matthias has to put on this ‘No we barely have enough to feed ourselves, we can’t look after these animals,’ but his stance changes so quickly

・So you have about five dogs so far

・But you still go into town and feed as many as you can

・Matthias thinks he’s in charge, but after a few months together he comes to realise that you will always be in charge

・He actually really enjoys gardening

・Has those well-planned and established herb gardens. The ones that are held in perfect square timber raised beds

・Matthias absolutely threw himself into gardening. Bought books about it, spoke to the elders in town about how to perfectly grow herbs. He was both fascinated and in need on something to focus on after the tragedy he had endured

・You encouraged him, but said he had to promise not to make a mess inside.

・Is a very loud snorer, and hogs the bed, as well as the sheets. It’s just easier to sleep underneath him - not that he would notice. Once his head hits the pillow almost nothing can wake him until morning

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚

・Safety; that’s what she wants, that’s what she desires most

・A place that she can let her guard down and not have to worry about being used

・She doesn’t like uninvited visitors, and has special locks on all the doors so no one can break in

・When you introduced the idea of a guard dog, she was apprehensive.

  “What if it can sense ... the darkness in me?”

“There is no darkness within you, Genya.”

・So you got a Cane Corso, a beast of a dog. That scared even Genya the first time she saw her.

・Is a very light sleeper, but once getting your pup, Genya let it sleep on the end of the bed

・Even now, after your dog, Neith, has grown to full size, she still sleeps at the end of your bed (you know exactly when she jumps up and when she leaves because the bed moves...significantly)

・When days seem especially difficult for Genya, you like to leave little notes around the house, reminder her of all the things you love about her

・She likes to wake up before you and move the hair from your face and just watch you sleep

・Isn’t the best at cooking, so you usually take up that job. But she does bake pretty well. Very good at making tea cake 

・Knows a lot about healing so you have a lot of herbs, spices, flowers, vegetables that aren’t for eating per say, but for when someone is sick or wounded 

・Genya hated mirrors for a while, until you helped her get over the change in her appearance. You helped her on the road to confidence and self love. 

・You’re both still involved in helping the Grisha so you see Zoya, Nikolai, Tolya, Tamar etc 

・Genya doesn’t really like having people at the house though. It’s her sanctuary where there are no reminders of The Darkling or the nichevoya

𝐌𝐚𝐥

・Wants a simple life

・Doesn’t care for anything fancy, so you’d be the one to arrange everything

・I can see him as a farmer

・Out in the country, living off the land, but never taking too much and giving back

・We know from the books that he ends up running the orphanage with Alina, living a simple life. Looking after kids who need a home - and I think he would do that whether he was with Alina or not (and in this case...obviously not)

・He would be content with a slow life with you

・But he also wants to be of use to the community; to give back

・So you spend your days finding jobs for people who need them - with the help of Nikolai. You do the paper work while Mal meets the people and waits with them until a horse and carriage arrive

・You also have a huge vegetable garden that you allow the community to use as they please

・In thanks they give you something; knitted blanket, baked bread etc

・You have cows, goats, sheep and horses

・There are stable hands that tend to the horses. Usually the young people from the village (both boys and girls alike)

・The milk isn’t just for you and Mal but you go into town and give it to the people who need it most

・You don’t live far from the village. In fact you can see your neighbours just by looking out the window. They may look far, but really it’s only a ten minute walk

・You also teach people how to read and write

・Mal is absolutely head over heels in love with you

・Always makes sure you feel protected and safe

・Is actually very sensitive and feels things deeply. That’s why sometimes he has to take time to process his emotions alone

𝐙𝐨𝐲𝐚

・We know that Zoya is destined for greatness, hence she would end up living in a castle

・But if not a castle than a quaint chateu will do

・Is a stickler for mess

      “There is no reason for there to be so much untidyness!”

・Has a lot of pictures/drawings/paintings of her family up around your home

・She always needs the bed to be made every day; if you’re the last to get out of bed than you have to make it

・You see a different side to Zoya; yes a softer side but also the undone, sloppy version of her. She actually didn’t let you see her like that until a month into living together

・If you snore she makes you sleep on the couch

・No. pets. She’s the one who wears the pants in this relationship and her decision is final

・Until you start feeding an old cranky cat who doesn’t stray far from your home. You name him, but keep him a secret and sneak him inside when Zoya is away

・She pretends not to notice and lets you have your hidden pet

・Although you’d think there would be servant or maids, that’s not the case. You and Zoya split the chores equally; she doesn’t want another person touching her things

・She actually colour co-ordinates her clothes; they’re in colour order and when she’s especially stressed she’ll do the same for yours

・When clothes are folded, they have to be folded neatly- 

・Is a very, very good cook. She makes these pastries with goats cheese inside that are to die for 

・Has a vanity with ridiculous amounts of make up. When she has a bit to drink she always wants to give you a makeover 

・Takes her coffee and tea very strong 

     “What’s the point of polluting it with milk and sugar?”

・Is the last to fall asleep and the first to wake, but she stays in bed for 20 minutes because she likes being so close to you 

・Whenever guests come over she is the perfect hostess. But if they overstay their welcome she won’t hesitate to tell them it’s time to leave

𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫

・IS SO DRAMATIC WHEN GETTING READY

   “This outfit worked better in my head”

・Wanted to have multiple mirrors in the bedroom so he could “see himself at all angles” but you told him “the fuck we are”

・He relented ... not without whining

・But Jesper’s clothes do end up EVERYWHERE

・He’s awful at picking up after himself in the clothing department

・But he does keep the bathroom really clean ???

・Even if it’s shaving or after a bathe, he’ll make sure it’s exactly how he found it

・Hates weird smells so he sprays perfume everywhere

・Liked the thought of living in the city to be close to the rest of the crows, so you accepted

・But you made him promise not to do anymore gambling -

・Your home is like an escape for Jesper

・Likes to go shopping with you. He likes picking out things so that you can match (you’re against it at first but ... also submit to it)\

・He always knows how to make you laugh, so whenever he forgets to do a chore he can wiggle his way out of it

・Will do all the grocery shopping and any errands you don’t want to do

・Also loves candles, especially scented ones but has been banned from having them burning unless you’re home too ...

・Moves around a lot in his sleep and has whacked you a few times

・Misses you whenever either of you are away. Keeps a piece of your clothing to smell

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

・Although he spends a lot of time at the Little Palace, he wanted a place where it was just you and him. Where he wouldn’t be disturbed by questions or problems.

・A lot of his focus is on his plans, but he keeps maps and the like all in one room

・He wants to keep the bedroom for ... bedroom activities. As well as all the other rooms for their proper uses

・Aleksander doesn’t want his ambitions to hinder your domestic life

・He hates overhead lighting

・Prefers candles or lamps

・Always buys you new clothes, new shoes, new accessories etc. Wants you to have the best of the best 

・And he gets headaches very easily so you have tinctures and remedies on hand as well as around the house

・He prefers the quiet, and too much noise overwhelms him

・Pets aren’t really his thing ... maybe a bird though, but it wouldn’t have to make much noise

・He does love horses though. And would spend hours on them if he could. Just galloping away, far from his troubles.

・Has a maid that comes and cleans the house

・The only time you’ve seen him truly peaceful is in sleep, but that’s only when the nightmares haven’t started 

・He wakes up a lot during the night and doesn’t want to wake you. But you’ve told him whenever that happens he’s more than allowed to wake you up. Being in your arms help him go back to sleep

・100% lets you steal the blankets, without ever complaining 

・He’s more likely to remember things than you are, so he makes/buys you a calender and writes down everything you’d need to remember 

𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚

・Isn’t very tidy. There are a LOT of food crumbs (especially in the bed)

・Her hair is actually very long, she just keeps it up and out of the way, so you get to see Nina with her long hair down

・But you also find a lot of Nina’s hair ... everywhere

・She does like when you give her head scratches - a lot of golden retriever energy

・You’ve actually been collecting it to prove to her how much she sheds

・Is always hungry and asks if you want to get food nearly every hour and a half

・She’s not that bad of a cook, but you aren’t much better. So a lot of your food is bought rather than made

・Always makes sure you’ve had something to eat though, especially after a long day or after a big gig with the crows 

・You, Nina, and Inej have a close friendship; so Inej likes to ... appear ... in your house

・Most of the time it’s because of an injury. So you keep your storages stocked up just in case.

・But other times it’s for a sleep over! Eating, all sleeping in the loungeroom, telling each other stories and secrets

・You invite Jesper and Wylan aswell... and have asked Kaz but he always declines. Well actually he doesn’t even decline he just doesn’t say anything or show up 

・Is a heavy sleeper when you’re in the house. But when she’s alone she can barely sleep

・Always kisses you when you walk through the door and before you leave. It’s become a ritual and if it isn’t done then it’s bad luck

・Learns your little quirks. Like if you like your sandwiches cut diagonally or straight 

・Nina is very romantic

・She loves going on little dates with you. And always makes sure you have time for a date. At least once a month. Even if it’s just going out to eat and then taking a walk underneath the night sky

[buckleysjareau]

i took the medicine, but i’m up in the middle of the night again

Here’s the thing, Buck has always been an anxious person.

or

An exploration of Buck’s anxiety, accepting help no matter how scary it is, and how the 118 come to help him in their own ways.

READ ON AO3 HERE

Here’s the thing, Buck has always been an anxious person.

Underneath his big, extroverted personality was someone who was constantly overthinking every little thing he said and felt. His mind was constantly a mess of why did I just say that, what did that look mean, where’s the closest exit in case something bad happens and can I sit there?

In high school, when he just could not get himself to focus no matter how hard he tried, those thoughts would slowly get louder and louder and louder until they completely overtook him, drowning out everything else around him until all he could hear and feel was his heart trying to beat through his ribcage. He never seemed to remember how he got to be sitting on the bathroom floor, only ever being able to recall thinking I need to get out, get out, abort.

That call definitely got his parents’ attention.

“You’re skipping class now? It’s that football team, isn’t it? What’s next, selling drugs?”

Maddie finds him that night on his bedroom floor struggling to breathe. She helps sit him up, pushes his head between his knees and tells him to match her breathing. When he’s finally able to breathe in sync with her, he tearfully begs her to tell him what is wrong with him and why this keeps happening.

Having a name to what he was experiencing should have made him feel better, but it doesn’t. Having panic attacks is just another reason on a whole list of reasons why his parents can’t love him.

He doesn’t tell them about his panic attacks and begs Maddie not to tell them either. He makes her pinky swear that it stays between them.

It only happens one more time before he graduates.

He gets accepted into Penn State on an athletic scholarship and finally escapes the suffocating expectations of living with his parents.

He quickly learns that even though he’s not under their roof physically, he still feels stuck there. It’s like his body is at Penn State but his mind never left Hershey.

It’s like he never left.

The overwhelming feeling of having to be perfect or hurt to keep someone’s attention. The constant pit in his stomach and the dread that follows him wherever he goes. The only time he feels even remotely like a functioning human being is when he’s too drunk to forget he has anything else to worry about.

The drinking affects his studies, and his poor studies affects his athletic scholarship, and he’s forced to move back to a place where he has to get himself hurt in order to not feel invisible.

A screaming match with his parents ends with his first panic attack since high school. It’s truly like he never left.

He enrolls in community college just to have something to do so he’s not stuck inside that hell all day. He meets people his second week there and soon enough, his partying habit is back in full force. His parents are beyond angry every time he returns in the middle of the night, but when he doesn’t come home at all for days at a time, they don’t notice his absence. Much like it was when he was growing up.

He uses the tuition money on modifications for his motorcycle and bankrolls a few of frat parties. He’s not surprised when he’s kicked out of that school, but he was definitely sick with anxiety. His parents were going to kill him.

He’s thinking that as a car pulls out and he has no time to brake before he’s crashing right into the car.

The medics bring him to Presbyterian to get checked out, but as soon as they discharge him he gets a ride to his only other option, his safe space, to his sister.

When she turns him away with sad eyes, he has to swallow back his panic. It’s not Maddie’s fault he’s a fuck up. She shouldn’t have to deal with his bad decisions.

He just about manages to stave off a panic attack by the time he needs to face his parents. Then Maddie shows up with a ticket out of here in the form of her Jeep and he feels the weight ease off of his chest.

He’s mad, and he’s hurt, so fucking hurt, when Maddie stands him up with no more than a note but it doesn’t stop him. He leaves in Maddie’s Jeep without her steady, supportive energy next to him. He sits with it for a while and then he starts living.

He still feels anxiety but it’s not consuming him the way it used to. He can do things and it wouldn’t matter because he’d be off in a new city in a few weeks anyway.

—

LA was good for him. The fire academy was good for him.

It was good for Buck.

His first four months as a probie were a little rough, but after his wake up call that came in the form of him getting fired, being fortunate enough to have a second chance, and meeting Abby, it all seemed to settle down again.

Bobby, Hen, and Chimney seemed to fully accept them into their little family and what a concept that was; he had a family.

A family who didn’t look through him as if he was invisible.

They saw him.

Which is why Hen can see through his half-assed ‘I’m fine' when his anxiety is too much to push away, he presumes.

A lot has happened within two weeks and it all seemed to be piling up, one thing after the other and Buck could feel himself slowly losing the tight grip he thought he had on his anxiety.

Abby stops responding completely. Their communication slowly dwindled down to nothing, a short phone call once a day, a text here and there, an update every time she went to a different country, and then nothing. He couldn’t help but obsess over what he could have done wrong. The dread that he somehow messed up, that he wasn’t enough to yet another person, keeps him up at night. He explains away the circles under his eyes by complaining about Abby’s loud neighbors. He thinks they believe him.

Then Eddie Diaz joins and the team treats him like he hasn’t just graduated from the fire academy. It took four months for the team to trust that he knew what he was doing, and it’s Diaz’s first day and they let him lead. He can’t stop from spiraling over the fear that the team won’t think he’s as good as Eddie and that’s all it will take to replace him. He reverts to old habits and lashes out. Fortunately for himself and everyone around them, Buck gets over it after he bonds with him over a live grenade but it does nothing to alleviate his anxiety.

In the middle of all of that, Maddie comes back. The sister he hasn’t talked to in three years. While he’s so relieved to see her, it brings up feelings he had buried deep down. He finds out why he hasn’t heard from her in three years and he has to try with everything in him not to have his first panic attack in years and make it about himself. Because it wasn’t about him.

Then the earthquake happens and he almost loses Hen.

All of the anxiety from the past two weeks starts to bubble over and it becomes harder to hide. He picks at his cuticles until they bleed and finds it hard to stop bouncing his leg even, even — especially — after a sleep deprived Chimney tells him to knock it off when they’re on the way to a call.

Hen notices, of course she does. She hands him a band aid, gesturing towards the cuticle around his thumb starting to drip blood at the look of confusion. He tells her he’s fine with the most convincing smile he could muster.

She lets him think she believes him for the first half of the shift, but after a particularly difficult rescue that leaves Buck shaking and carefully counting his breaths so as to not hyperventilate, she pushes.

He’s pacing back and forth, tugging at his hair with a grip so tight that his curls are messily on show, when Hen finds him.

She’s leaning against the door to the bunk room when he finally sees her. He’s startled enough to lose count on his breathing and that’s all it takes to slip into panic attack territory. His breaths immediately get faster as he tries to force out a lie.

Hen clocked it right away. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine right now, Buck. Talk to me.”

“I–I, uh, I ca–” As if that’s easy. “I–”

Hen seems to take pity on him as he starts to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to talk. Just breathe for me, okay? Can you do that?”

“I can’t b-breathe, I c–”

“Yes you can, Buck. You just gotta slow it down. Just let me count and you follow, okay?”

Buck nods.

—

Hen gets him through that panic attack. He begs her to not tell Bobby about his weakness and no amount of reassurance that it wasn’t a weakness made him back down.

After that, it’s never talked about again.

Not until he finally decides to go therapy and Dr. Copeland suggests that he try medication for his anxiety.

An actual diagnosis. That his therapist highly recommends getting medicated for.

He’s stuck on that fact for days after that session and even Eddie has a hard time getting through to him. He keeps this diagnosis and his contemplation to himself.

Until his parents come to LA and blow up his life.

He has a panic attack in Chimney’s passenger seat and happens to spill his guts in the midst of it.

“There’s nothing shameful about taking medication, Buck. You take medications to improve your physical health, why is it so different when it comes to your mental health?” He gives Buck a pointed look. “And look, after everything this week, a mental breakdown or a panic attack was definitely due but you said yourself, it’s getting to be a frequent thing and it’s affecting your physical health now too. What’s stopping you from at least trying it out?”

“What if it doesn’t help? What if I’m too messed up for medication to cure me?”

What if all he is is just his anxiety and nothing he does will be able to fix it? What if living with this is his big punishment for not being able to save his brother? What if this is all he is and all he ever will be?

“Daniel dying is not your fault, Buck.” Chimney starts off, making Buck realize his spiral was spoken out loud. “And the anxiety you feel? That’s not who you are and that’s not all you’ll ever be. You’re Buck, a damn good firefighter and an even better friend. You deserve to get help, man. Accept it.”

As if accepting help is truly that easy.

“Thanks, Chim.” He mumbles instead.

—

All the medication does is make him more anxious. He feels like he’s going out of his mind and finds himself regretting letting Chimney talk him into getting help.

“That’s not who you are and that’s not all you’ll ever be.”

Doesn’t seem like it to him. Not as he’s on the verge of a panic attack even after taking the medication that would supposedly help him feel less anxious.

He’s halfway through his shift and it’s just past family dinner. He definitely doesn’t want to jinx it but the shift has been relatively not busy so far, however he feels the anxiety of a call gone wrong layered on top of a sense of dread that something will actually go wrong.

His eyes hover over Eddie sitting across from him, book in hand, seemingly immersed in what he’s reading. He tries to pull comfort just from seeing him, knowing that he’s okay, but images of Eddie on asphalt surrounded by a pool of his own blood flash behind his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he tries to pull his attention somewhere else and lands on Bobby at the sink, not paying attention to the glasses he’s washing, instead choosing to look over at Hen and Chimney who are laughing at something Buck couldn’t hear over the sound of his racing heart. All he can focus on is the knife Bobby is so carelessly washing off and what if it slips and hits something serious? What if something can go so horribly wrong just from washing dishes? It’s not the first time something’s happened like that. He can’t lose Bobby because of a simple slip of a knife he was washing. He can’t lose him at all–

He’s pulled out of his spiral by a sting of pain. He looks down at his hands to see his cuticles practically torn to shreds. His anxiety has never made him pick at them as much as it has right then and he’s on medication so obviously the problem was him, he’s not fixable. The anxiety is all he is. The medication isn’t helping. This really was just a perpetual punishment for not being able to save his brother. He’s always going to–

Buck stands abruptly, catching the attention of his team. The only excuse he can think of to not worry them is gotta pee, brb.

He’s too focused on getting somewhere safe he doesn’t have time to cringe at the lame excuse.

The second he’s down the stairs, he stops. He can’t go into the bunk room knowing Harmer is still in there, taking a nap before he loses the opportunity to. He thinks maybe the back of the engine, but someone would hear that door shut and realize he was lying. The only option he found was Bobby’s office.

The second the door is shut, Buck’s body seems to give out from under him and slumps down the side of Bobby’s desk and is powerless to the panic that takes over him.

By the time he’s not actively having a panic attack, he has no idea how much time had actually passed while he was curled in on himself. What he does know is that he feels completely spent and devastated that there was no fixing him. He was broken, cursed to a life full of sometimes debilitating anxiety.

The sob that leaves his throat is completely involuntary and he can’t seem to stop it. He tries to keep his cries quiet so as to not bring attention to Bobby’s office, but little did he know there was already someone right outside.

“Buck?”

He freezes at the concerned voice of his Captain. He can’t find it in himself to find a response so he says nothing at all.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Bobby’s voice is closer now and when Buck looks up, their eyes meet and all Buck can do is shake his head as more tears gather in his eyes.

“I’m not fixable.”

“What are you talking about?” The concern is radiating off of him.

He feels guilty, extremely guilty, for making Bobby feel like this, so much like when he told Chimney all of those weeks ago, he spills his guts.

He’s surprised to find out he feels a little lighter than he felt before and he lets himself accept the comfort of his Captain.

“You’re not broken, kid. We’ll figure it out.”

For the first time, he starts to believe maybe he wasn’t broken.

—

Bobby was a godsend when it came to his anxiety after that.

That morning, after they were done shift, Buck followed Bobby back to his and they came up with a plan and he was filled with hope for the first when it came to his anxiety.

Bobby convinced him to give the medication a little more time to even out before he gives up on it. He’d continue taking it and whenever his anxiety got to be too much, he’d text Bobby or let him know and they would work through it together.

The plan was really utilized the first couple of weeks after he continued his medication. So much so that Eddie started to ask questions. He can only assume that the only reason Chimney and Hen weren’t asking questions was because they already figured out what was going on.

The only answer Eddie ever got from both Buck and Bobby was that there was something Bobby was helping him. Though Bobby tried to convince Buck to confide in him as well, the fact that Bobby even knew was mortifying enough.

Eventually, the meds started to work and he started to level out and things were easier from there on out. Of course, the anxiety still got the best of him after high intensity moments. It was especially bad after Eddie had been shot, released, and recovered. He was still constantly anxious whenever it came to Eddie, but he’s aware that it would have been a lot worse if he wasn’t on them.

The grounding techniques his therapist and Bobby taught him gave him the knowledge on how to help Eddie with his. Even seeing someone else having a panic attack was enough to make him anxious, especially Eddie, but he was able to keep himself calm and help Eddie with his own.

Everything eventually settled down with Maddie and Chimney back in Los Angeles, and Eddie back at work. He often found himself calm and collected more times than not, and that’s enough for him to let himself get comfortable again.

Maybe he let himself get too comfortable.

First Bobby doesn’t consider him for interim captain, and then Len dies in front of him in the middle of telling him the secret to happiness, and then something that should make him feel good like helping someone out to have the one thing they want more than anything only makes him spiral more. He says yes, but then everything in the universe makes it seem like it’s giving him a sign not to do it. He finally makes it but now everyone knows, not just Hen. Bobby finds Wendell, and seeing someone he finds strength in so disconnected makes something hurt in his chest. Kameron and Connor are pregnant and he feels happy for them, he really does but there’s something there that Buck can’t seem to shake.

And then his parents come. Albert brings Chimney’s dad and step mom.

It all starts to feel a little too much to deal with.

He distracts himself by cooking and tries to get Bobby out of his head as well by asking him for advice on what he was missing. It makes Bobby laugh which makes him feel a little bit better.

The anxiety gets a little too much during dinner at Maddie’s when everyone starts fighting about him. It’s at this moment that he realizes with everything going on, the fact that he had to refill his prescription two days prior slipped his mind. He’d taken his last pill three days ago and completely forgot to call in a refill.

He slips out when Maddie comes in with Jee and goes through a grounding exercise. He thinks about calling Bobby but the exercise itself is enough to calm him down enough to reassure himself that it’s okay that he forgot, he’ll just call it in the next day and pick it up before work.

Except that doesn’t happen. He oversleeps and he rushes to work and man, someone must have said the Q word because they barely had a break. By the time he has any time at all to call in the refill, the pharmacy is already closed.

Then they’re called to an apartment fire. Everything feels okay. No sense of dread. Chimney and him start up banter and then he’s up the ladder. Everything is fine.

And then he dies.

For three minutes, apparently. He wakes up in a world that is so much like the one always wanted growing up. Until it isn’t anymore.

Maddie’s with Doug. Bobby is dead.

He doesn’t want to be stuck there any longer.

When he comes to, all he feels is relief to see his sister. His parents are standing over him next to his doctor crying, but all he can focus on is Maddie.

And then he sees Bobby alive and well. That’s enough to calm his racing heart for the moment and everything feels okay.

Until he’s home. His parents went back to Pennsylvania, not before buying him the most uncomfortable couch in existence. He’s carted to doctor appointments after doctor appointments, test after test, and still has no answer on if he’s medically cleared to go back to work. He feels dread about going back to work.

While he appreciates Maddie and everyone’s visits, he’s starting to go a little crazy.

He caves after Sudoku and heads over to Eddie’s.

Eddie’s place is always peaceful. It feels more like home than his own loft.

“Hey!”

Buck steps in as Eddie moves aside to let him. “Please don’t ask me how I am.”

“Kay.” He breathed, amused. “Want a beer?”

“Ah, probably more than one.”

Eddie chuckles, walking away as Buck gets himself comfortable and closes his eyes. “Guess all that company wore ya out.”

And that’s the last thing Buck hears before the exhaustion takes over.

When his eyes flutter open, he notices he’s at Eddie’s house and it’s night time. That’s enough to ground him and make him realize that this was real life, that he wasn’t back in that reality.

There’s something about the way he’s feeling that makes him feel particularly fragile though.

So fragile he almost breaks when Eddie finally asks him how he is.

When Eddie reminds him that he died, and that he’s going to feel a lot of different ways about it, it’s said in a way of comfort but the dread that comes back through his entire system seems to have the opposite effect.

“I found the best way to process it is to allow yourself to feel it.”

“But you, uh, you do eventually right? You process it.” He hopes he’ll get reassurance from his answer.

“Everyday you open your eyes in the morning you feel a little less surprised the world is still there.”

Buck is silent after that. He can’t understand why after all of this reassurance that he would eventually be okay, he can only feel this dread. Something is wrong.

It only hits him as he’s settling back in on the couch, Eddie next to him this time, that Bobby never answered his text from the afternoon.

He texts him again and then settles back as Eddie puts on the TV as a distraction. He’s so grateful for how well Eddie can read him at that moment. Simple, quiet company was what he needed after an entire two days of people coming to constantly check on him.

The distraction worked for a little while, but Buck notices that Bobby still hasn’t texted him back.

Hey Bobby, how are you?

Delivered.

Surprised you weren’t involved in Operation Drive Buck up a wall with visits. Haha

Delivered.

Hey Bobby, haven’t heard from you today. Is everything okay?

Delivered.

Fear floods Buck’s entire body as he begins to spiral about why Bobby wasn’t answering. He was positive he wasn’t back in that coma dream because he was at Eddie’s and it was night time but his mind couldn’t help but spiral there anyway.

Is he back? Is Bobby actually dead and he’s not actually at Eddie’s and it’s all just some weird elaborate dream inside of a dream? Is he out of the coma dream and there is actually something wrong with Bobby? What if the people that killed Wendell killed him, too? His call went straight to voicemail. He’s dead. Bobby’s dead in this life now, too. Why isn’t he texting him back? He always texts him back. Athena hasn’t answered either. What if they’re both dead? He can’t do this without Bobby. He’s panicking right now and Bobby isn’t alive to help him through it this time. Bobby—

“Buck!”

His eyes snap open to find Eddie sitting in front of him on the table and feels a hand on his. He can’t breathe again. His body is shutting down. Did he run out of time? He was stuck in this hell forever. He ran out of time.

“Buck, just keep your eyes on me. It’s okay, I promise, everything is okay.”

“Bobby–”

“Is okay. I’m not so sure about you right now though, so just try to breathe through it with me.”

“No, no, he died. He was dead. He isn’t answering me like he usually does. Something’s wrong.”

Buck felt like he was dying. He’s not so sure that he isn’t. It’s like he’s back there.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay. Hey, Buck, what’s your favorite flavor of Jell-O?”

Through everything, that makes Buck pause. What?

“What are– what are you–”

Dear God, this was the worst panic attack he’s had in a while. Why the fuck is he asking about–

“St–strawberry.” He chokes out.

“Okay, okay, good choice. Buck, I want you to close your eyes for me again, okay? Can you do that?” He shuts his eyes. He’ll do anything to stop this feeling. “I want you to think about your feet, okay, and feel them turn into soft, strawberry Jell-O.”

His eyes snap open. “Eddie–”

“Just trust me. Can you do that?”

He nods and closes his eyes again. Trusting Eddie was as easy as breathing…ya know, when he’s not having a massive panic attack.

“Think about your feet turning into soft, strawberry Jell-O.”

So he does. He doesn’t understand but he does. “You feel that?”

“Yeah.” He chokes out.

“Good, good. You’re doing so good for me, Buck. Now let that Jell-O go up your calves… now up to your thighs, up to your pelvis, and stomach.”

Buck can feel him lighten the grip he didn’t even know he had on Eddie’s shirt. Breathing starts to get easier.

“Your whole body is turning into squishy, bouncy Jell-O.”

Buck huffs out a small laugh at how ridiculous it sounds but thanks God that it’s working.

“Now let it run to your chest, your arms, your head…”

He takes in a deep breath and opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. He’s smiling softly at him, pride in his eyes along with relief.

“You are one giant Buck Jell-O mold.”

That has Buck’s entire body relaxing, body collapsing forward into Eddie’s chest and keeps breathing.

It’s quiet for a little bit until Buck’s phone buzzes on the table next to Eddie. His head shoots up and grabs his phone with enough speed and force to almost knock Eddie off the table.

Bobby

Sorry I missed your texts, kid. It’s been a crazy day. How about I stop by with breakfast in the morning if you’re feeling up to it.

Buck lets out another cry at the sight of Bobby’s message. He ignores the look on Eddie’s face that means they’re going to talk about what just happened and focuses on texting Bobby back.

You know I’m always up for your cooking, Cap. Glad you’re okay :)

After he puts his phone down, he looks back up at Eddie and sighs. “Guess you wanna know what that was all about, huh?”

“I’ll admit I’m concerned but I’m not gonna make you talk if you’re not ready. That was a pretty bad panic attack, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Buck huffs. “Yeah, probably one of worst ones I’ve had since–”

Oh.

“Since?”

He never refilled his prescription.

“Since Bobby convinced me to stay on the medication they gave me for my anxiety.”

The anxiety he tried like crazy to hide from Eddie.

“Oh.” Eddie doesn’t seem surprised. “Can I ask what caused it this time?”

His voice is so soft and understanding that Buck can’t hide what happened in his coma dream any longer.

“Bobby was dead in my coma dream.” He starts to pick at his cuticles as anxiety starts to flood his system once more. Eddie doesn’t allow that to continue though, taking both of his hands in his and rubbing circles into the tops of his hands. “I have to text him every time I wake up so that I know I’m still here and not in the reality where he’s not alive.”

He hates that he can start to feel himself start to panic again. He feels like if he’d remembered to refill his medication that it wouldn’t be this bad. So, so stupid.

“You’re not stupid. It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, anyone could forget to refill a prescription with everything that’s happened to you.” He needs to stop spiraling out loud and not realizing it.

“The psychiatrist warned me to not go off of these cold turkey. Said something like this could happen if it did.”

He bows his head in shame for the tears that well up in his eyes once again. God, he’s a mess.

“Not a mess.” Eddie states. Shit. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to get some real rest in a real bed and then in the morning, we’ll go to the pharmacy and get a refill of your meds.”

“What if I have to start all over again, Eddie? It took me nearly a month to stop having panic attacks because of how anxious they made me at first. I can’t do this again, I can’t.”

The grip on Buck’s hand tightened just the slightest and brought him back from another spiral.

“Then we’ll deal with it together. I told you, I’ve got your back. It’s going to be okay.”

And all Buck can do is trust that it would be okay.

Eddie has his back. Bobby is okay.

He will be okay.

[monstrousvoice]

Sleep Easy

Fandom: Elden Ring

Relationship: Morgott X Fem!Tarnished

AN: I'm sick as a dog and plagued by horny thoughts. I do not condone doing anything like this in real life, its just a really self indulgent kink of mine to be used and taken advantage of by monster men. 

This is also an un-official sequel to this post.

Hopefully this will tide ya'll over while I work on chapter 2 of Court of the Immortals. (Next chapter will have Boc in it btw 👀🥰)

Tags: Smut, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Dubious Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Consent is not spoken about but very much given, Somnophilia, Consensual Somnophilia, Drugged Sex, Tarnished being into that shit, Slight Yandere Morgott, just a pinch, Pining, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior, Breeding Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Cum Inflation, Morgott being a pervert, Female Tarnished

Read it on AO3!

It's been days since he caved and started stealing your clothing, and continued to do so, as shameful as it was…It was torturous, this hunger you started in him. He wanted to feel your velvet heat around his cock, squeezing his knot, so bad, but he didn't want to take the chance of confessing. He wasn’t brave enough to face your rejection. 

And one night, when he returns to his office, feeling worn out and frustrated over your constant teasing and his lack of courage, he spies one of his elixir potions on his office desk. It's his sleep potion, one that the castle physician makes for him due to his nightmares. 

And he has an idea.

The next evening, you're working in his study together, as usual. You've been teasing him all day with light touches to his broad frame, and whispered words that he knows have to be mocking in some way. 

"Morgott my king, would you ever want to have children? I think I'd like to, with the right person. The tiny pitter patter of little feet down the hall..." You mumbled as you pressed against his back. He could feel the soft cushion of your breasts through his robes, so tantalizing...His head filled with images of you waddling down the castle hallways with an engorged belly, your hand being pulled by a much smaller one as children surrounded you and demanded your attention.

You, sitting on his cock above him, cupping your belly and begging him to move your hips for you, please my love I need you to fuck me, please-

His quill snapped in his grip.

He saw your expression out the corner of his eye, mouth open in an adorable 'o' as you stared at the broken stationary. 

"Excuse me." He had growled, standing from his desk to grab a new quill (and get away from your sweet cloying scent-deep breaths Morgott, deep breaths-)

And you still continued, even during your shared meal.

You sat across from him, wearing a dress with a deep 'v' that showed off the supple curve of your tits and tummy, crossing an arm underneath the swell of your breasts to push them up even further for him to stare at. You're talking about the things you saw on your ride around the land today, and he still finds himself enraptured by your words.

"I'm glad to see less and less bandit camps lately. I think it's a very good step in the right direction."

Even as he listens to you talk and is distracted constantly by your dress, he's worried his nerves betray his plan. His golden eye darts down to the soup you're enjoying, one sip at a time from your perfect lips.

You don't comment on it tasting any different than usual.

He can see the sleep potion taking effect however, the way your words slow down as you hide more and more yawns from his intense gaze. At one point, you catch his eye as he watches you swallow another mouthful. You smile at him.

"Thank you for ordering my soup for me Morgott. I don't know what the chef did, but it tastes especially yummy tonight."

"...It may be a new ingredient." He offers hesitantly. 

"Maybe so...I hope to taste it again soon~" You practically purr at him. He swallows.

Do you know...? No, you couldn't. If you did you would be outraged, right? Jump from your chair to throw the steaming liquid in his face and run away from here, from his perversion. If you had any idea, you would be long gone by now.

You sip another spoonful.

It isn't long before you're saying goodnight through a yawn.

"Oh-dear, I don't know what happened. I felt so energetic earlier and now I'm-" Another stifled yawn, "Hmm, I think I'll head to bed Morgott." You stand from your seat and make your way over to him. You lean against his broad shoulder, your face getting close - so impossibly close - to his cheek.

"Goodnight my King~" You whisper, a soft pressure on his cheek following your words. It isn't until you're closing the door behind you that he realizes you kissed him.

His heart beats wildly in his chest, blood roaring through his veins. His fingers come up to caress the spot your sweet lips had been against a moment before, and he feels his soul thump in his chest. 

He thinks about his plan for tonight and feels the guilt settle at the base of spine, swirling and bubbling at his terrible sins. 

He slams a fist against the hardwood table. No, no. Guilt or not this is the only way he can truly have you. It's just for one night. Just tonight, he'll have his fill and be done with the whole situation. He can keep the sweet memory of how you feel for the rest of his life and you'll be free to go on with your life, unaware you had been tainted by him. 

You could even fall in love with some lucky fool who would never treat you as well as he would, but you'd be happy and unaware of what he stole from you. Just...one night of pleasure. 

The only thing he ever let himself want before.

He waits a half hour before he attempts anything.

In the cover of night, the servants are sleeping. Guards watch the hallways, but none so much as flinch at seeing his hulking form. They haven't been spooked by him in...years now. What a strange thought.

Your room is unguarded. Normally he would want a guard patrolling this hallway even more strictly than usual, your precious sleeping form is vulnerable to attack after all. But tonight, he has them scheduled to come later during the night, so no one may see him slip inside your dark room.

As he closes the door behind him, his sensitive ears catch the sound of your soft, gentle breathing. His nose catches something else.

Arousal.

Thick and cloying, the scent permeates your room through and through. He feels dizzy from the sudden onslaught of scent, blood rushing south to swell in his cock. It's already half hard from the smells alone, his sheathe pulling back to reveal its pink head to the cool air. He bites his bottom lip hard, grabbing himself and hissing through his fangs at how sensitive he feels. Precum smears across his palm and drips to the floor, a thick vein along the underside of his cock throbs in time with his heartbeat.

By the Greater Will, what were you doing? What would prompt you to-...to smell like this before you went to sleep?

He can't wait to think about it-his mind pushes the mystery away for another time, another place where your soft, pliant form isn't waiting to be ravished by him. He all but rips his cloak off as he climbs up your mattress, pulling himself to hover over you. 

Your face is buried in your pillow as you lay on your stomach, your plush ass facing him. Without even thinking his hands find their way there, squeezing and playing with the flesh as you sleep onwards. You're covered by a thin sheet, unusual for the colder weather you've been having lately, but he doesn't have time to dwell on it. He pulls off the sheet, and his heart stops.

You're completely naked...except for a small satin pair of panties.

His breath leaves him in a rush, a low groan escaping his chest as his eye travels along the skin of your back. His hands join in, pushing and molding the skin beneath as he marvels at how soft and squishy you feel. 

Curious, he slips his hands under you, lifting your chest up to squeeze and play with your tits. They feel just as soft as he imagined, and you don't stir from the movement. You lay prone and asleep, in a deep dream. 

Satisfied you won't be waking up anytime soon, he lays you back down.

He sits himself carefully across your legs, moving downwards to get a better look at your hips and thighs. His fingers slid under the cloth covering you from him, his gray skin looks so right pressed against your own and tangled in your panties...

He pulls them down, the soft fabric sliding over your skin with no resistance till he stops at your knees. Moving back up, he places both hands back on your ass. You're so small and delicate compared to him-his palms easily cover the expanse of your hips. 

It makes his cock throb.

He hooks his hands in between the folds of your cheeks and thighs and spreads them. The scent of your arousal hits his nose full force, and a deep, husky groan leaves him. Slick is leaking from your adorable cunt and all over your closed thighs, gooey strands webbing between lips and skin as the opening to your pussy flutters and squeezes around empty air. 

He feels hypnotized by the sight.

Swallowing the drool collecting in his mouth, the Omen leans forwards and licks. Slick cream coats his tongue immediately, warm wetness greeting him. You don't stir from your sleep, still lying against your pillow. 

Emboldened, Morgott presses his mouth firmly against your welcoming cunt, his thick tongue sliding out to rub against your folds as his lips suck along your flesh. His reward is more of your slick oozing out, your muscles fluttering against his tongue like a silent call for more. His chin is soaked in your combined juices and his drool, dripping to the sheets below you. 

His tongue moves farther down for a stronger lick when it rubs against your engorged clit. For the first time that night you react. Your hips jump as a squeak leaves you, and the Omen feels his blood turn to ice. He freezes in place as your hips drop back into his hold and a small sigh leaves you.

Carefully, he pulls himself away from the tasty treat offered to him to look you over. He leans up and close to your face, watching for any sign that the elixir has worn off and you're about to wake up.

Nothing.

You lay still and silent once more, face relaxed and calm. Breathing perhaps a bit faster than when he first started, but definitely still asleep. He breathes a sigh of relief, falling back to sit on his haunches as his shoulders droop. 

You still manage to keep him on his toes, even now.

Morgott shook himself, ruffling his fur and lashing his tail. Foolish, so foolish of him. He's still so nervous about this because he knows how wrong it is.

A glance down at your glistening cunt and he knows that he can't back out now. He...he needs to finish this. To feel that sweet release of cumming deep in your womb, of your gummy walls squeezing him tight as he fucks you...

He moves back over your thighs, settling down comfortably on the soft fat of your legs. His tail wavers back and forth in the air behind him, muscles tense as he continues. 

His cock is fully revealed now, pink and gray as it slips out of his sheathe with a slick sound of precum. He gives a sigh of relief as his knot finally pops free, the tension in his abdomen finally relieved. Strings of precum dribble over your skin, pooling in your folds and smearing everywhere his wandering hands massage.  

His thumbs hook once more against the warm folds of your cunt, spreading them open to reveal your leaking hole. The muscles still flutter with arousal from his touch, looking so damn empty and fuckable...

You'll be filled soon though. He'll make sure of it.

With firm hands he grabs your hips, making sure no sudden movements from you mess this up. He lowers his throbbing cock towards you, rubbing against the sweet heat of your pussy. He throws his head back and pants into the night air, eye closing in bliss at the feeling. 

So warm and soft...such a perfect little fuck hole for his cum, to breed full of his seed and start a line of heirs to the Lyndell throne...

Taking a steadying breath, the King looks down, entranced by the sight of his cock pressing against your opening. He's wanted to do this for so long now...To see his fat cock spread you wide and ruin your sweet cunt for any other man. You won't ever know he did this and yet, the next time you lay with any man, you'll feel the difference, feel how their cock doesn't stretch nearly enough, doesn't go deep enough to press against your womb the way his would.

You'd play with yourself and desperately wish to feel so full again...you'll think of him and cum on strangers' cocks all the while calling his name...

He uses a thumb to press his head against your tight hole, hissing at the squeeze. It seems like it's about to go in when-

It's pushed back out, sliding towards the front of your cunt and rubbing the spines lining his dick against your clit. He pulls back and tries again, and again, and again, each time being pushed back to rub against your sweet folds instead of inside.

The Omen hisses low and quiet, frustration making him impatient.

"Damn thee, little tarnished...of course such an adorable cunt would be so difficult to fuck-" Morgott adjusts himself on his knees, hands gripping your thighs and pulling them further apart. He grunts and pushes the head of his cock against your still too tight opening until finally, with a satisfying 'squish’, the fat head of his cock pushes through and slides inside like your cunt was made for him.

He moans low in his throat as his hips keep moving forward, his cock going deeper, deeper, deeper-

He catches himself from falling on top of you with a shaking hand landing on the pillow next to your face. He hovers above you, panting and shaking, eye closed as he experiences bliss for the first time. Under him, your sleeping form is trembling, your brow furrowing and your mouth open in a silent gasp as small pants leave you. Your hips give a weak buck against his when he finally bottoms out, cock head bumping against the opening of your womb. His ears strain to catch the sound of words leaving you in your sleep.

"M...mor-mmm..." You sigh, nuzzling further into your pillow.

The King sighs as well, dropping his forehead along the curve of your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to the skin under him. You're so beautiful...So beautiful and precious, so sexy and sweet and all his...all his...his...

He pulls his hips back, relishing the tight suction of your cunt refusing to let him leave, to keep him inside you, with you, and thrusts back in hard. The 'smack' of skin against furred skin echoes in your bedchamber followed by the harsh panting and bitten back moans of a desperate King trying his best to breed his chosen mate.

He wants it, wants it all. His left hand moves to grasp your limp one, fingers interlocking as he imagines a ring on your finger, one that's as bright and beautiful as you are. Doing this over and over until your womb is filled with his cum, swollen and heavy till you cry and beg for mercy from him, that you couldn't possibly take one more load in your full tummy. Laying together as his hands rub against the small bump you made together, daydreaming names for your future children as you drift off to sleep.

The fantasy he had this afternoon...of your belly big and round with his child, body changed from having multiple children. Your breasts, big and leaking milk, your body covered in sweet stretch marks for him to trace and kiss as he thanks you for bringing him the gift of life, of family. Your thighs, thick and warm against his ears as he eats your sensitive cunt out for hours at a time to prove his devotion to you. 

To worship you like the goddess you are to him...

With a full body shudder he cums, hard, inside your waiting cunt. Fast, hard thrusts over and over as he growls through his teeth, biting his bottom lip so hard it splits and bleeds. 

A stray tear falls down the Omen's cheek as he experiences mind blowing ecstasy and heartbreaking disappointment.

His breathing is harsh and fast as he comes down from his high. His eye finally opens to look at the work he's done, the mess he's made of you. 

He's not disappointed. 

White sticky cum leaks from your abused cunt, a noticeable bump in your opening from his swollen knot stuffing you full. He stares, mesmerized, and watches his cum slowly leak out more as his knot deflates, a small pool of viscous fluid mixing on the bedsheets under you.

Within seconds he starts thrusting again, visions of your womb stretched full of his cum filling his mind. He won't stop till his instinct to breed stops clawing at him.

When dawn breaks, he's no longer in your room. You wake up to the sound of songbirds outside your window, smiling to yourself after such a good sleep.

You are not at all surprised when the slightest movement has you gasping in ecstasy, your cunt spasming as thick globs of cum seep out from your well fucked hole. Your tummy feels bloated and full, and when you turn over and lay a hand over it, you smile at the feel of a noticeable bump under your palm.

Your fingers move down to rub your aching cunt, your clit making you jump and moan from how sensitive it feels. Just a few quick rubs and your cumming hard against your fingers, moaning for your King, lamenting that he's not here now to fuck you again.

A servant knocks on the door.

"Lord Tarnished, are you awake? Shall I fetch you some breakfast?" You think for a moment, a smile coming to your face.

"Not now thank you, but please, do send the King here as soon as possible would you? Tell him it's urgent." You hear footsteps fade away fast, the servant no doubt nearly running to pass on your message.

When Morgott knocks upon your door and steps in, he finds you still laying on your soiled sheets, legs open wide to show off his dirty work.

Your fingers are moving furiously within your stretched hole, your head thrown back as you cum again under his gaze. The King can only stand there, mouth agape as you turn to look at him through hooded eyes.

"Now that your confidence has been built up, this time my love, can I please be awake the next time you ravish me? I promise it's more fun~"

[justamessedupdisneyprincess]

I need help or something I’m not sure

I told myself I would never vent online again. But I really have no one. Everyone around me is too busy to have anything to do with me so I’m left on my own.

My self esteem is really bad atm. I have struggled with self esteem since puberty, I’m sure most of us had. But since I had to deal with intense cyberbullying, death threats and abusive online relationships my self esteem is constantly really bad. I have two names and it’s Izzy and disgusting freak, the name I’ve been called the most. I’ve been called many names, none of them that are good but that one was most common. It’s burned into my brain forever now. Like a label that has been stapled to my chest for all to see and for me to feel that stinging sensation forever. People look but see the label that had been forced onto me instead of someone who needs help. They believe the label. They listen to the label even if I can provide them with proof it’s a lie and beg for help to have it removed and taken down. It’s all hopeless. At least that’s how my life was before I deleted all my old accounts to get the fuck away from those evil twisted monsters who did this to me.

This is gonna sound kind of stupid but now instead of being hurt by name calling I’m hurt by how I am just not seen. Tumblr has been shockingly good, which is ironic as most of my tormentors are from this site. I had to delete accounts multiple times on this website before. Who knew third time could be a charm? I guess the reason I feel down is that on my old DA account I did have over 1000 watchers. I have about 20 now, which is good considering how I only have like 1 person for months and literally none of my stuff was liked of favourited. I just feel like I’ve went from being a disgusting freak to a nobody. I ripped off the label best I can and created a brand new one but no one pays attention to it.

I think the reason why I’m worried about this is because there are only bad memories of me out there, that they associate me as the disgusting freak who faded away. I want to be labeled as something positive so maybe just maybe they can forget I ever was considered that. A “disgusting freak”. A way to redeem myself…even when in truth I was just trying to fight to be myself back then.

This is my passion but also my way of trying to prove myself and fight some more. Some days I enjoy it other days it makes me feel sick.

[shallowcrypts]

Avoidants are unfairly demonized.

And you know what? I’m sick of seeing anxious-attached folks being treated as if they’re fully the victim and totally blameless.

They just cannot ever admit that they might make mistakes, especially serious ones. Can't apologize. Self righteous as hell, and so, so blaming. It's such bullshit. It’s so often that the avoidant partner is forced to take “accountability” for whatever the issue and the AP gets to be relieved that its “not them” and they don’t have to look at their own outrageous behavior that may have contributed to the original issue.

AP’s get all the sympathy because they are usually the loudest, therefore we all have to center around their feelings. It's not that the avoidants DON’T want help, it's avoidants are more likely to avoid and if someone doesn't like conflict and the AP is constantly having a temper tantrum... so who is going to get heard? Have the most attention to their problems?

I was recently talking to a friend about couples therapy with her avoidant partner & even in listening I could tell that she didn't realize how much she dominated the therapy sessions, while simultaneously complaining he wasn't there enough. When he finally broke down and cried about something she had said, her response? You've never cried about that before but it bothers you NOW?

And that’s the thing, it's never good enough for APs. It is hard to be a person when an AP is suffocating the room, and it's easier for them to blame avoidants because we are the only people who will continually put up with their shit, because we ignore it and somehow they are the victims in that too. The goal post is forever changing with them, and nothing is ever good enough. They complain and put pressure on to be, think, feel a certain way and when you manage to come close, you're still somehow in the wrong. I would rather shove everything down and suffer silently than possibly trigger an AP into an episode because THAT is pure psychological torture.

And don’t even get me started about how they then proceed to be the "humble brags" of self-work:

"I just have too big of a heart and I over-give because I'm too generous.”

If all the APs I've known ACTUALLY took accountability it'd sound like:

"I make comments with the intention of making you feel ashamed and guilty so that in your diminished self-worth you might be insecure enough to come to me. Maybe if you're upset we can have a conversation or emote at each other, which is a form of connection, so I force that since I can't force you do do whatever I want at any given moment. I push and push and push and push you so that when you break A) again, I can feel the connection that comes with conflict, at least, and B) I can feel victimized by how 'mean' you are by finally breaking at my prodding. I do not ever stop to consider how this might be tanking your life and our relationship... because I always find a way to blame you for that. I have the audacity to purport to know what your problems are and your inner work should be, and though I'm begging you to open up to me, I don't listen when you do. I just cry because whatever you say scares me, and my fear is still ultimately more important than any of your experiences." APs don't "care" anymore than Avoidants as a default, though they may try too hard, sure.

The issue is that the “I care too much" gets recognized as "and that causes problems for ME” and they're like "oh look I'm taking accountability!" But they never get to the part about how them "caring too much" caused problems for OTHERS and they never want to earnestly apologize. Their behavior can be seriously, seriously, damaging to be on the other end of.

"I'm impatient, have unrealistic expectations, and I over-perform for love. I'm going to work on this with my therapist because I'm realizing now how this is backfiring and causing me pain."

^That would be accountability.

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector’s Edition: Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part III)

Here we are again: Part III, a list dedicated to all the fics that are (unfortunately) not given enough attention for their different achievements.

Loose chronological order below~

@pilotinthestars's (Ao3) a green nursery (Ao3)

The convenience store worker said and did nothing but eye him up and down. He supposed most tuxedo-clad men didn’t come into this establishment for the purpose of buying pregnancy tests for the little black dress-clad women they had brought with them.

AU-- Hollywood A.D. Mulder realizes Scully's new symptoms add up to pregnancy. He convinces her to take a test; and both are relieved and delighted that the night ends-- literally-- on a positive note.

@enigmaticdrblockhead's

Mountains Crumble to the Sea

...I’m scared.

God?

//God is a spectator-//

Ah, right, I remember. Is He watching, are You watching, is anyone watching? //He just reads the box scores.// Baseball, I loved- no love, baseball; I’m not dead yet.

But I can’t remember and it hurts. I can’t remember what your voice sounds like, it hurts so much. I can’t remember what anything sounds like. All I can hear, is pounding in my head. Loud and slow, once methodical but now erratic.

What will happen to me after this?

TINH Mulder is relentlessly tortured, thoughts rambling away as his body slowly "dies."

AliveDead

He is nothing but empty pockets. Leaning against the stone building he sits and watches them go by. Moving forward and walking past, they ignore his plight and give only isolation....

His right hand almost seems stiff. Fingers are curved upward to show a gray palm. He begs for whatever they can give. He is never lucky.

AU-- Deadalive Mulder is returned, sick and amnesiac, to wander the streets without knowing where to go.

Darkness (brief)

I feel like I’m falling down to earth and floating up to the heavens at the same time.

I’m tempted to blame someone but I can’t. My training exposed me to this, but like most things I chose to ignore it.

Three Words Mulder has risen from the dead horrified, not awed.

Ascension

He must be weak, either that or they drugged him. His feet drag towards me and his masked face hangs low. He trips on a bump in the carpet and tumbles at my feet. The father kneeling before the son....

The way his body lunges forward every second or two, tells me that he’s out of breath or perhaps he’s in pain. The blanche, plastic mask with small slits fixates on me. It doesn’t stop and he doesn’t struggle. He isn’t shaking or attempting to break free like all the others. He just breaths and watches me. 

Stop it. Stop watching me. Look down. Look away. Don’t watch me in this moment. The moment where I kill you.

AU-- Colonization was thorough and unyielding; and Will, like all other children under the regime, must kill his father to "ascend."

Looking Forward to the Abyss

“People think when you die, you go to heaven or hell. But people never think about what happens if you come back.

“Well, Mrs. Scully…I do. Because I did die, on a case. They killed me, and they foolishly thought to bring me back. They were religious too…although…”

He couldn’t help but smile now. It was a joke and he knew the punchline. How could he not smile.

AU-- Mulder, demonic and unrepentant, recounts the horror he was forced to inflict on Scully... and the unhinged revenge he doled out afterward.

@spookytheory's Fire, But Better

Fox Mulder’s sharp smile strikes across Dana. She ignites, the flames spelling out her new titles: FBI Agent. Spy. Scully. Scully emerges from the fire, brushing the ashes of deference from her shoulder pads.

Pilot Scully is trying to put Daniel Waterston and her past behind her, easing into the newness of being referred to constantly by her "father's" name.

@fabulouspatsystone's

I don't want that anymore

His heart sinks into his entrails and becomes heavy as stone. Who is she talking to and, even more important, what is she saying? The air around him seems to disappear and all he can hear is a distant muffled humming. He feels like he’s under water and everything just rushes by. All he manages is to hold on to the mail he collected with a tight grip.

S1 Mulder overhears and misinterprets Scully's phone call. He fumes, then silently figures it out.

Unnamed

She was gone all day. They hauled her off to Quantico early this morning leaving him with a short message on his answering machine that she will not be in today. She sounded sleepy and a little cranky, probably hadn’t have her coffee yet. And she sounded adorable.

Mulder, bummed after a case, thinks about his love for Scully's smiles, notes, and little quirks and habits.

Unnamed

Mulder’s voice sounded way to chipper for this hour. He pretended and she knew.

Mulder messed up the filing system; and successfully bribes Scully to help him out later.

Something Better

“A curious fella you got there, sweetheart. And very handsome...how do you get anything done?”

“Excuse me?” The surprise about this question made her choke on her last bite.

Even the old lady handing out gingerbread cookies asks why Scully and her young man are investigating Christmas trees instead of enjoying each other's company.

On the Outside

He walks by her apartment. Not by accident or by chance, but on purpose. He's never been in there but he's been here on this side of her street looking up. It is usually dark, no sign of life, just glass windows that hide her loneliness behind closed curtains.

Breakup Mulder roams to Scully's, surprised to note how dull and Christmas-less it looks.

@pedalinginhummus's

Happened Before

"Oho, Scully!” He said as he lifted her arm by the elbow towards the ceiling. “Don’t get too comfy as the medical doctor on this team. I think I can give you a run for your money with this,” he said proudly, admiring his work.

Mulder helps Scully bandage her wound; and the two start their tradition of thumb warring after injuries.

Unnamed

With a muffled voice she says “If only you could grow another hand out of your chest,” aching to feel pressure at every angle.

Mulder chuckles. “Kind of like in Alien?"

Post Memento Mori Scully has a headache; and allows Mulder to massage it away.

@blackcoffeeandteardrops’s (Ao3)

XF episode: Die Hand Die Verletzt?

“The human mind can be very persuasive, Scully. There are documented cases of people under hypnosis or otherwise suggestive activities doing things they report they normally wouldn’t do. Things like driving a car four hours away in the dead of night, buying an excessive amount of cheese, and in one case, even getting married,” he said, not missing the way she sighed.

Post Die Hand De Verletzt Scully calls Mulder, nervous about Mrs. Paddock out and about.

I know it’s probably been done before but Three Words for your episode prompt

There’s a silence that settles between them, a solid weight that somehow does not feel heavy. For a few moments, Mulder swears his ears are ringing. “In Oregon,” he replies, leaning in. He furrows his brow, slowly putting the pieces together.

AU-- Three Words Mulder wants space but goes to Scully's apartment with a frog blanket, anyway. He has no memories of his torture; and is thrilled to find out that the baby is his.

Home To Me

“Hi baby,” she said, planting a kiss against his hair. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him close, drinking in the scent of of his No More Tears Shampoo. She tucked the tag of his pajamas back in and carded a hand through his auburn curls, preemptively mourning the day his hair would straighten out. They did the best they could with him, but she knew they couldn’t keep him young forever.

AU-- Mulder, Scully, and Will enjoy life as a family, bedtime stories and Quantico opportunities included.

Better Now (Ao3) 

“I know it sounds odd, Mulder, but considering everything we’ve been through, I’m glad to see us facing something so...normal.”

“Be that as it may,” Mulder replied, setting the bowl of soup in his lap. He held a spoon of broth to his lips, blowing on it before taking a taste.

AU-- Scully catches a cold; and Will brings her purple flowers.

Dulcet (Ao3)

Beside her, William gasped, his eyes honing in on a water gun that had been left on the ground a few feet away. He sprinted to get it and ran right back to Scully, shaking it near his ear, listening for the sound of water sloshing around inside. “Here, mom, it's still got water in it,” he said, his cheeks red and his breathing heavy from the exertion of running. “Get him!”

AU-- Will's 5th birthday: water balloons and Toy Story reruns.

Reprieve

Tucked between the pages of the books was a picture of William and Scully, one he’d taken the day before he left. He knew it was in the book, knew it because every night before he fell asleep, he’d hold the picture and stare at their faces, and he’d hope he’d see them soon. The picture had been a source of comfort before, a talisman that kept him grounded and reminded him why he had to keep fighting, but seeing it again filled him with something kin to sadness mixed with anger. He closed the book as the bus took off, and he stared out the window, trying to convince himself the anger wasn’t at Scully, but rather at the impossible situation they’d been faced with.

AU-- Post William Mulder calls up Skinner for information, tracking down Will just in time to save his son from murderous operatives. Scully panics, angered, at first; but the two eventually reconcile.

Small Steps

 Still, the ice between them had been thawing, especially since they’d returned to the FBI together, but Mulder remained afraid that he’d somehow be overstepping his bounds. He turns to offer something lighthearted instead, but stops, reaching out to grasp her arm & get her to stop walking. “Scully, you’ve got a little something--” he trails off, free hand gesturing up to his own face.

Revival Scully's nose bleeds after she and Mulder conclude a case. He panics, dabbing at it with his tie. Both hope it's just the high altitude.

Mashed Potatoes

“My mother used to make mashed potatoes every year. Some of the other side dishes would change, depending upon what ingredients were available or how many people would be present, but her mashed potatoes stayed the same,” she said, worrying the surface of the coin as she stared off into the distance. She didn’t come to until she felt something pressing against her waist, not realizing at first that William had crossed the room to pull her into a hug.

AU-- My Struggle II William and Scully talk about their individual losses fondly, eventually waking up a recovering Mulder.

Enough For Now

When Scully brought in the flyer advertising for the local county fair, she never expected anything to come of it. She’d laid it on the table with the other junk mail she’d go through whenever she had the time, taking care to save any coupons that might prove useful. But when William sat at the table one night for dinner, he pulled it from the stack, talking about how back in Wyoming they’d go almost every year when he was a kid, and she knew before he even asked that they’d go.

AU-- My Struggle III Mulder, Scully, and William start bonding as a family while visiting the fair: basketball, roller coasters, and pizza.

Keep On Wanting

 Mulder reaches for her seatbelt, unclipping it, and when he gets out to open her door, she lets him lead her inside.

Mulder takes her coat, hanging it on the rack by the door, before doing the same thing with his own, even though it’s still caked with blood. He’ll handle it later, either by having it cleaned or burning it, he’s not sure which. 

Post My Struggle IV Mulder calms a chilled, anxious Scully. Both feel hopeful after a good night's rest.

Livewire (Ao3)

“Who says I need protecting? I was just shot because that creep thought I was you,” Jackson replied, trying but failing to push away from him.

Any other time, that response would’ve pained Mulder more than it did, but he looped an arm around his son’s shoulders and started wading back toward the docks, determined to get them there with or without Jackson’s help.

AU-- Post My Struggle IV Mulder drags Jackson out of the water, refusing to let his son leave before they've all ironed things out.

Commonplace

He couldn’t see her face, but if he could, Mulder was almost certain there would be tears in her eyes. After everything they’d been through in the last year, that fact wouldn’t be a surprise. “I’m just as concerned as you, Scully. The best thing we can do for him now is to work as hard as we possibly can to keep him safe. To protect the best thing that’s ever happened to either of us.”

Post My Struggle IV Mulder and Scully are delighted to have Jackson around, lightly parenting him about bedtime and schooling.

Little By Little

Despite the added inch or two the skates gave her, as Scully caught up to William and he laid a hand on her shoulder, it occurred to her again of how much taller than her he was. “Are you having a good time? If you want to go faster, you don’t have to wait for me or Mulder, you know. Just be careful,” she said, though she secretly hoped he wouldn’t.

Post My Struggle IV Jackson bonds with his parents over ice skating and last names.

Signs of Light

 It wasn’t until several months passed, until they’d begun to creep past the awkwardness that came with getting to know the teenage son whose entire life they’d missed, that she even mentioned the headaches.

It’s nothing, Mulder, I’m fine, Scully had said, pinching the bridge of her nose and fanning her face with a file as they sat outside a warehouse, waiting on a suspect to exit the building. 

AU-- Revival Scully's cancer returns. Mulder refuses to promise to stop searching for a cure; and Jackson slowly starts hanging around, warming up to his parents.

@mchalowitz​’s (Ao3)

fic; un-mulder

It’s so un-Mulder, embellished with white detailing, small pine pones. There’s little gifts attached and a few are just hanging swatches of metallic paper, the clear result of curious fingers in years long past. 

The wreath rustles against the door as it swings open. There’s a bright smile on Mulder’s face. 

Pre-TGTSC Mulder surprises Scully with a Christmas door wreath.

after

Being the believer in the office is exhausting. 

Scully is telling him as much, even giving some actual merit to being one with the unbelievable views, when she notices Mulder is sleeping upright, his head propped up with his hand.

She slides herself to the edge of the couch to push herself up but feels his hand on her arm. 

“I’m awake,” Mulder insists, “I was listening.” 

Post Vienen Scully is glad Mulder is back, even if he is pushing and pulling away from impending parenthood like a pendulum.

34 + 28 msr for the OTP prompt List 💚💚

Remain calm. That’s what all the pregnancy books say.

AU-- S8 Mulder and Scully are horrified over a pregnancy complication.

hack job

Scully’s rarely frantic. The peaceful foil to her overwrought partner. Russians seized their home and she careened over the side of the porch level headed. 

She’s pulling drawers open so hard they’re coming off their tracks. They crash to the floor. She finds a pair of scissors in the third one. They’re not for hair cutting but they’ll have to work. 

Revival Scully gives herself an emergency haircut while Mulder burns critical evidence.

fic; a little snow

She heads down to start the coffee maker and adjust the finicky heater. Every morning she descends those stairs, thinking the man she loves will have returned to her.

Pre-IWTB Scully, though worried for her partner, is heartened a little when Mulder warms up her car and shovels out the driveway.

@lovesicks4pphic's (Ao3) Effective Communication (Ao3)

“Sir, you can’t seriously think this is a good use of our time?”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t think, Mulder. Besides, I know full well the two of you bailed on the last seminar you were supposed to attend.” 

Scully felt Mulder’s eyes dart in her direction. 

AU-- Post Triangle Kersh forces Mulder and Scully to attend a conference, which causes Scully to unduly overthink in anguish. Mulder is clueless; but the two work it out and take their relationship to the next level.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!