#if you saw me post this before I had the right format… no you didn’t shush

[xthe-moonletx]

“You mean, like a sudden rainstorm forces them together beneath a canopy

they look into each other’s eyes

and realize they were made for each other.”

_____________________________________________

Here’s a revamp of a piece I drew about a year ago, now fully rendered and refreshed! It’s a spin-off of Pierre Aguste Cott’s The Storm that I thought fit the ineffables perfectly :)

[bearambles]

Okok little request if ur up for it. Just Hamzah x reader (gn if mentioned) where they have a smoke sesh together in his new apartment but reader gets too comfortable and accidentally falls asleep on Hamzah with the cats.

Just pure fluff lmaoo I just can't get the thought out of my head I need to grip his shirt like a child he just looks so comfy :')

Also idc what format it can be headcanon or a small fic, whatever u feel!!

close to you 🎀 (hamzah)

words: 1.1k

warnings: use of weed, making out, fluff, established relationship

note: hi lovelies!! im so sorry for the lack of posts recently - im on vacation and ive had no time or motivation. on the ride home though, im gonna try to catch up to requests!! and im thinking abt writing smut again 🤭

“do you wanna smoke?”

hamzahs head turns from looking at the ceiling to looking at you. he looks almost nervous, his eyes darting across your face like he did the first time he kissed you. you smile at the thought and sit up on his bed.

he’d invited you over to see his new apartment (finally). you’d ended up in his room playing with his new cats, blue and red, who seemed to take a liking to you. blue sits in your lap now, and you scratch behind her ears as you speak.

“like, a blunt?”

he stays laying down, red lying on his chest. he pets her and laughs softly.

“nah, i have a pen. but it’s the same idea.”

he raises an eyebrow, “you have smoked before, right?”

you blush, your face heating up. you look down to the kitty in your lap, and bring both legs up so they’re crossed.

“duh. just like. once or twice in high school, though. and…” you trail off.

“and?” he asks, picking up red in his arms and sitting up next to you.

“i don’t think i did it right. like, i didn’t really feel anything.” you admit

“oh okay. that’s okay. i mean like- if you don’t wanna-“

“no, i do.” you say quickly, “i just - like you’ll have to teach me i guess. that sounds stupid. but the first time was like, a bong and i totally didn’t inhale shit.”

he laughs, and the sound makes you crack a smile, even after embarrassing yourself. he’s wearing his camo hoodie, and his curls are just the perfect amount of messy. one falls into his eyes and he blushes it away with his palm.

“that’s okay, i can show you. though, i don’t know how great a teacher i’ll be.”

he places red in your lap next to blue and gets up from the bed, going to dig through his drawers for his pen. you watch the way he moves, the way his sweatshirt rides up and shows a bit of his back. the way his pants fit. you look away when you catch yourself being a creep.

he finds it and goes to sit in front of you this time, near the end of the bed. he’s closer now, his legs matching yours in a sort of lazy criss-cross. he observes the device in his hands for a second before bringing it to his lips and inhaling.

when he releases the smoke, he tilts his head up and you stare at his neck. the smoke leaves his lips slowly and quickly disappears. he looks back to you and holds it out for you to take.

“it’s gonna die soon so we can just finish it today.” he says as you grab the pen from his hand, “unless you like, go crazy after a few hits.”

you roll your eyes and look at the pen in your hand, before lifting it to your mouth. you look to him for confirmation and he nods, so you deeply inhale like you saw him do.

“okay, now inhale again, and you’ll feel it in the back of your throat.”

you do as he says and feel it - it sort of burns. after a moment you puff out your cheeks and then release the smoke, slow at first. that is until you cough, and the rest comes out.

he laughs and takes the pen from your hand.

“you okay?”

you nod, but keep coughing for a moment. sitting up, you reach your hand out again, wiggling your fingers to ask for the pen back. he raises an eyebrow at you.

“you want it again already.” you nod. “alright, but be careful, for real. don’t do too much just to impress me.”

you give him a look.

“i’m not, i swear. just, lemme try again okay?”

he hands you the pen and you take another hit, this one burning less. you feel it in your head, and you smile as you let out the smoke into his face. he waves his hand to get it away, but he’s laughing.

“thatta girl, hey, you feel good?”

“i feel great.” you say, going in to kiss him. he kisses back and leans forward, wrapping his hands around your waist. you uncross your legs and sit up on your knees.

his mouth is soft and you moan into it as he moves his hands down to the back of your legs, lifting you onto his waist. from there he moves back so he’s up against the bedframe with you in his lap.

it’s like that for the next hour - slow kisses and the pen passed between you two. neither of you suggest anything more despite your closeness (and hamzahs obvious hard-on). there’s a soft sort of feel to the moment.

“i wanna try something.” he says eventually, taking the device from your fingers and moving it to his mouth.

you look at him with curiosity and lean back slightly to watch. he pushes the smoke around in his mouth a bit before taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you close. you open your mouth to kiss him, but he stays just an inch away, and while your lips are parted, blows the smoke into your open mouth.

inhaling it, you smile against his mouth and properly kiss him. you can feel his grin forming too. he deepens the kiss and his hold on your waist tightens.

when he pulls away, his eyes dance across your face and his mouth rests in a lazy smile.

“what?” you ask, regarding his staring problem

“just so…so fuckin pretty.”

you bite your lip to hide your grin and shake your head. your hair is a mess after all that’s happened and your makeup is smeared. still, hamzah seems mesmerized.

you bury your head in his neck for him to hold you. his hoodie smells like the smoke and a bit of his cologne. you breathe in and out repeatedly, smelling him. he smells so good, so safe.

slowly you slump down to lay on his chest. on instinct, his hand reaches to play with your hair, pushing it out of your face.

it’s funny, hamzah never seemed handsy before this. you never considered him someone who likes physical touch - not with friends or even family, mostly. but with you it’s different. he didn’t expect it either, but as soon as he felt your soft skin on his, he never wanted it any other way.

the motion of him stroking your hair makes you sleepy and eventually your eyes drift closed. you sleep for hours - if you had any actual plans for the day you would wake up stressed and anxious. instead, you wake up and see his head above yours, resting against his pillow.

he’s fallen asleep too.

-

i hope you enjoyed! requests are open! >_<

[tkwrites]

Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

1.

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

“So it’s okay?” 

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 

2.

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 

 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 

3. 

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 

4. 

The fourth time wasn’t planned. 

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 

5. 

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked. 

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 

Bonus scene: 

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Quinn 

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[ragingbookdragon]

To Die For A Friend Is An Honor

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Okay, so I changed the reason a little bit but I like this more :D

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

Post-mission, the celebration at Hard Deck was off the wall. Beer and food flowed as conversation and cheer erupted at every table. The team was gathered at the back pool tables, drinking, and enjoying each other’s company, for once, no one was sniping at each other. Even Hangman and Rooster were leaning off one another, joking and laughing. Phoenix sat next to Bob at the table beside the pool game, quietly chatting when Bob’s gaze flickered around, taking in the sight before he stopped on someone coming in.

His eyes widened and he patted Phoenix’s arm. “Natasha,” he said, and she frowned, pulling her arm back.

“What? What?”

He nodded to the woman in a wheelchair talking to a pilot who was pointing towards their group. “It’s her. It’s Hangman’s wingman.”

Phoenix looked in her direction, her own eyes widening. “Ja—Hangm—dude,” she called out and Hangman looked at her.

“What?”

She nodded behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder in a disinterested fashion until he saw her wheeling over, and his eyes went wide, jaw going slack as she stopped in front of the steps leading down to the pool table.

“Pretty girl?” he breathed, arm falling from Rooster’s shoulder as shock coursed through him.

“Hey you,” she smiled. “Congratulations on another confirmed.”

Jake walked on shaky legs to her and bent over, pulling her into a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” he breathed, and she recognized the way his voice held unshed tears.

She wrapped her arms around his back and patted it. “Vice Admiral Simpson called me and let me know when you’d all be having this fun little shindig.” As he pulled back, she looked at him. “I figured I’d come and see you.”

He was quick to wipe his eyes, taking her hand; he squeezed it tight. “It means a lot that you came,” he murmured.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Jake,” she said softly, and Bob walked over, looking nervous but excited.

“It is such an honor to meet you,” he said almost enamored, and she smiled, holding out her right hand.

“The honor’s mine…?”

“Bob, Bob Floyd,” he answered and shook her hand. “I was on sea duty when you got your medal. We all watched it on the TV in the wardroom.”

“Then my reputation precedes me,” she smiled, and the others walked over.

“What medal?” Coyote asked and Bob huffed.

“Only the greatest achievement you can get for exemplary service!”

All their eyes widened, and Rooster looked over Hangman’s shoulder. “You got a Medal of Honor?”

“I did,” she answered. “For service above and beyond the call of duty while defending a fellow airman in combat.”

Hangman went quiet at the mention, but the others dragged tables and chairs up to her wheelchair to hear the story and she laughed lightly as they did. After they ordered her a beer and some food, she sat there and began telling them the story of her and Hangman’s flying history.

“Jake and I actually went to flight school together. We were neck and neck during all drills and exercises, just always trying to top dog the other. When we graduated, we actually got commissioned in the same squadron on the same ship. Our Lieutenant made us wingmen, but that rivalry never stopped even when we grew closer.”

Fanboy leaned up. “How’d you get paralyzed?” he asked, and the others whacked at him and tossed fries his way; even Hangman glared at him. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, it’s okay,” she smiled softly, and looked at Hangman. “You okay if I tell?”

He nodded quietly and murmured, “It’s your story to tell…not mine.”

She patted his leg beneath the table. “We were doing routine flybys in the Gulf of Oman. Jake took behind me in formation as I had just been promoted to LTJG and maintained rank above. We’d been doing flybys for almost a week without an issue. We got…complacent,” she said. “We didn’t think the enemy had SAMs.”

She took a sip of her beer. “Jake’s radar pinged incoming first, then mine.” She went quiet, thinking for a moment. “I didn’t think, I just acted. Hit my brakes, went high, let Jake fly under me.” A chill settled among everyone. “I remember pulling the ejection handle just as one hit me. It was so hot. So loud.” She shook her head. “The next thing I remember was hitting the water and then I was waking up in sickbay on a bed.”

“And you got paralyzed?” Fanboy asked.

Another round of fries flew his way.

“I don’t remember if I pulled my chute late or if I did at all, but when I hit the water, it was like hitting concrete. The force shifted through the water, to the seat, into my legs and crushed my pelvis and spinal cord. I’m actually lucky I didn’t end up quadriplegic from the crash.”

She took another sip of her beer. “Once I was out of sickbay and back onto land, they had me in rigorous PT to build back strength. Of course, my Naval career was done. I was medically discharged, with honor, but I was still let go. It was a few months after that, that I was contacted by SECNAV and White House rep and told that I was being awarded the Medal of Honor. And the rest is history.”

She smiled at everyone, and Rooster looked at her. “Would you do it again?” he asked. “If you knew you’d die?”

His words caused silence, and she met his gaze, a firm, but respectable look on her face. “To die in service of country is our duty. To die in service of a friend? That’s honor,” she answered, then looked at Jake. “And I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Everyone sat impressed and humbled by her words, and she smiled. “Now, you have got to tell me about this mission! Jake hasn’t told me anything, and of course I understand complete secrecy, but I won’t tell a soul.”

***

He locked her wheelchair in place, smiling when she swatted his hands and pulled herself into the bed. “I can do it myself,” she sniped. “I’ve only been doing it for years.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I’m just trying to help you into bed. Isn’t it sexy for a man to carry a woman to bed?”

“Mmm, there’s not enough rose petals or wine for that,” she teased, and he smiled as he watched her get comfortable, pulling the covers up over her.

She patted the bedside, and he kicked off his shoes and socks before he striped to his boxers and crawled in beside her. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she closed her eyes as peace settled between them.

“I missed this,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time since we did this.”

“About a year,” he murmured, laying on his back, head turned in the side of the pillow to look at her. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“I did,” she answered. “Your buddies are a good group.”

“Do you miss it?” he asked.

“Sometimes. Working with veterans, it’s not exactly like it was in the Navy, but there’s still that camaraderie there. If anything, I miss the absolute structure I had. Without it, I had to make my own schedule and that shit sucks.”

He smiled, looking at her; she appeared so peaceful with her eyes closed. Jake reached over, laying a hand on her lower stomach, thumb gently brushing over the blanket.

There was something about being in her presence that broke him down to more than just a cocky pilot.

It broke him down to a man.

“What you said at the bar…” he said softly. “Did you mean it?”

“Which part?” she asked, eyes still closed.

“That you’d do it again if it meant you’d die for me.”

“I did.”

When he didn’t respond, she opened her eyes and turned her head, expression falling when she saw half of his face not covered by the pillow, tears in his eye.

“Jake…”

“I’m not worth dying for,” he choked out. “God, I’m not worth your life.”

She shifted onto her side, gently laying her arm on his chest, hand cupping his cheek as she thumbed his tears. “Oh, honey,” she murmured.

He shut his eyes amidst the torrent of emotions flaring in his chest. “Don’t die for me, God, please don’t die for me.”

“Jake…”

“I can’t lose you, pretty girl. I can’t.”

“Jake,” she said again, stroking his cheek. “Honey, look at me.”

He opened his eyes, lashes slick with tears, lips pursed to keep from wobbling.

“I made that choice that day to protect you. Not as your commanding officer. But as your friend.” She searched his gaze, her own firm. “I wasn’t scared. I knew if I died, I’d be giving my life for my friend. For my best friend. And I didn’t regret it. Honey, I will never regret that choice. And I will always put the lives of the people I care about above my own. Then, and now.”

Jake looked at her. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

She smiled tiredly. “Well, unless they make a jet that paralyzed people can fly, I won’t be doing it anytime soon.” She wiped his eye again. “Now stop crying, you’re too handsome to cry like this.”

He moved his hand from her stomach to take hers in it, gently pressing his lips to her palm. “I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you, Jake,” she smiled and poked his nose. “Hey, float like a butterfly?”

“Sting like a bee,” he answered softly, smiling at her. “Command gave us two weeks before we return to posts. Do you wanna spend it with me?”

“Of course,” she said. “Whatever else would I do in Nevada?”

“Wanna go to Vegas?”

“Hell yes.”

He kissed her wrist and laced their fingers, laying their conjoined hands on the pillow between their heads; she reached up with her other and turned out the bedside lamp.

“Goodnight, Jake,” she murmured.

“Goodnight, pretty girl.”

Jake waited until her breathing evened out in the night before he shut his eyes, pulling their hands closer to him as he drifted off into sleep.

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ slip 'n slide ; tz11

➪ summary: pro tip: if you're going to play slip 'n slide hockey, make sure not to play it with professional hockey players

➪ warnings: fractured shoulder, hospitals

➪ word count: 0.6k

➪ cupid's notes: it has been so long since i posted writing on here so i'm super excited to be back doing it. i remember exactly what sparked the idea for this fic and i couldn't be happier with how it turned out! um let me know if you like the new-ish formatting (the tinier font) or if you would prefer it to be bigger for the writing. also, i am working on that quinn fic and let me know if there are any of your favorites of mine you want me to reupload, they are all on my masterlist if you want to browse.

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen, her sitting in a hospital room with her arm sporting a sling. Sure, maybe the idea was a little stupid, and playing with professional hockey players also didn’t help. But, what was she supposed to do when she was scrolling on Instagram and saw a video with ‘slip-and-slide hockey’? Not tell her brothers and their friends about it? Not a chance. 

After seeing the video, she immediately brought it up to her brothers who agreed and started calling some of their friends to come to the lake house. She had called Trevor, much to Jack’s annoyance at the reminder of their relationship and Quinn’s distaste for him, and he said he would be there as soon as he could. When all the boys arrived, it was officially ‘mission slip-and-slide hockey’ time.

In hindsight, maybe she should’ve worn pads or just not played at all knowing how rough her brothers get with not only her but with their friends as well. Jack was being Jack, of course. He had gone to go around Trevor when he slipped and knocked into his sister, who then fell and weirdly landed on her shoulder. She didn’t scream, growing up with three rowdy brothers gave her more pride than she probably would’ve liked sometimes. 

She just laid there, staring at the sky with her right arm across her chest and her left one lying by her side. It took everyone a little bit to realize, and it was only when they saw Quinn kneeling next to her that they did. 

Quinn looked down at her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “You okay?”

She nodded, looking a little dazed as her eyes glassed over in pain, “Mhm.”

“Y/n/n come on, move your arm for me.”

She lifted her left arm and then dropped it, “See, I’m fine.”

He gave her a look, “Your other arm.”

And she was prepared to do it, except when she tried, she couldn’t and teared up more. Quinn sighed before waving Trevor over, “Come on, let’s go to the hospital.”

“I’m fine.”

Trevor’s head came into her sight, his hair flopping and framing his face, “Let’s go, princess.”

She smiled up at him, “You're pretty.”

He laughed before helping her stand up, having her lean on him for support. Jack came up and spewed apologies from his mouth as they walked to the car, “It’s okay, Jack. I’m fine.”

He shook his head and sat on one side while Trevor sat on the other and Luke got into the passenger seat as Quinn drove them to the hospital. And that’s how they ended up here, y/n sitting on a hospital bed with her arm in a sling due to her fractured shoulder. Trevor sat on the bed next to her while Quinn called their mom and Luke and Jack sat on the chairs in front of them. 

She leaned her head against her boyfriend’s shoulder, “Ugh how am I supposed to work now?”

“You don’t have to work, y/n/n. You’re boyfriends rich.”

Y/n sent her younger brother a glare before closing her eyes again, “Do you think they could give me drugs for my head?”

Jack shook his head at her choice of words before standing up, “I’ll go find a doctor. Maybe you got a concussion too, though they didn’t say anything.”

He kissed her head before leaving to find a doctor, or a nurse at the very least. Luke followed after him, protesting being stuck in a room with the two of them. Trevor pushed a piece of her hair out of her face before kissing her temple, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Besides the headache now?”

She nodded a little, wrapping her left arm around his right one, “Yeah.”

He gave her a small smile, “You know Luke wasn’t totally wrong. You don’t have to work.”

She went to hit him but he laughed and held up a hand, “I know, I know. You love your job, I wouldn’t take that away from you, lovely.”

“Good.”

The two sat in silence for a little while and then she spoke once more, “Cuddles when we get back?”

“Of course, my baby fractured her shoulder. Got to give her all the princess treatment in the world.”

“Dork.”

TZ11 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[inquisimer]

something loosely inspired by the Rook Codex Prompts by @shivunin - it was an idea I had, but the format didn't come together for me until I saw this list. It also fills multiple possible prompts, but I didn't write it with any specific one in mind? So I'm just posting it like this asldgjlkdfh.

Arlow de Riva & Viago | 449 words | @dadrunkwriting - da4 spoilers, a letter written before Tearstone Island, for Neve to deliver in the event of Arlow's death

-

A letter written in Antivan, crumpled and smoothed out many times over. It is pinned to the library table by a dagger embossed with the sigil of House de Riva.

Viago, If you knew I was writing this, you’d slap me upside the head. But I’m writing it anyway, because you should hear it from me. It isn’t your fault. Whatever happened, if you’re reading this, it is not your fault I’m gone. And it’s not Lucanis’ either, so don’t blame him. I made my own choices. I hope they were the right ones, and that I’m not gone before the job was done. A Crow always finishes their contracts, right? I hope I didn’t let you down, in the end. (Here’s a break for you to yell at my ghost. Come back when you’ve calmed down.) You saved my life, you know? You didn’t have to. I know you would have made Talon, regardless. But you saved me—changed me, so much I don’t even know who I would have been otherwise. And I’m glad for that. I wouldn’t have wanted to be anyone other than who you made me. Yes, I mean that. Yes, I’m sure. Don’t argue with me when I’m not there to argue back. Just—believe me, for once. It doesn’t matter how it ended. We had a good run. A really good run. And despite it all, I wouldn’t have changed a thing, except maybe that I’d like to be hearing your lecture in real time right now. Wherever I am, I’m missing you. But don’t spend too much time missing me. The others need you—if the job isn’t done, help them. For my sake—a contract signed with my last breath. You help them save the world, and then you take Teia back to Treviso and you live. Have a really good cup of coffee; watch the sun rise over the canals. Keep going, because even when the world fell apart in my hands, you were the one thing that stayed the same. If there was anything I could leave this world knowing, it’s that that hasn’t changed. So. Keep living. For me? We’re not big on words, and I’ve already used up most of mine. But the seal on this letter wasn’t poisoned—as you undoubtedly tested—and that should tell you all you need to know. I love you, Viago. I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough to make it back and tell you in person. But I always have. Thank you. For everything. -Arlow de Riva

The loopy signature is blotted with tears. Some smear the ink; others appear to have been left after the letter was opened.

[kaleidoscopecth]

Just Take Off Your Mask

MDNI!!!!

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: after going MIA for a few days, luke shows up at you and your best friend michael’s shared apartment on halloween, desperate to make amends.

warnings: smut, overstimulation, toy usage, slight knife play, blink and you’ll miss it hint of a slightly toxic relationship

word count: 4.6k

a/n: Okkkkayyyyy, so I saw someone request a Ghostface Luke fic somewhere and it got me thinking. Originally, I wrote this with an OC from a fic i’m working on, but ended up switching to an x reader format. This is my first post here on Tumblr, so bear with me if it’s a little wonky or if I make any mistakes. I also edited this myself, so if you catch anything I missed, please let me know!

anyway, this is for my twt gc, i love u freaks

Copyright © 2024 kaleidoscopecth. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You sat slouched on the couch of your shared apartment with Michael, mindlessly scrolling through Netflix in a futile attempt to find something that could distract you from Luke’s absence. No matter how hard you tried, your focus kept slipping.

Michael had begged you to come with him to a Halloween party earlier, but you’d refused. Not for the first time, you had turned down something you would have enjoyed—all because of Luke.

Your gaze drifted to the phone on the coffee table, the absence of notifications glaring back at you like a silent taunt. You forced your eyes back to the TV, but your thoughts refused to cooperate. Three days. It had been three days since he disappeared without a word. He’d promised to spend Halloween with you, yet he hadn’t shown.

The creeping fear you always tried to suppress began to rise. It was the same fear that gripped you whenever Luke disappeared, leaving you in the dark without so much as a message to say he was okay. You hated how easily it consumed you, how it made you question what you even meant to him. Were you really his girlfriend? Or just a convenience?

Before the spiral could go any deeper, your phone buzzed sharply, its ringtone breaking the heavy silence. You nearly launched yourself off the couch, scrambling to grab the device, only to fumble it in your haste. The phone skittered across the table, but you snatched it up, heart racing as you answered.

Luke’s name flashed on the screen.

Your heart leapt, but you forced your tone to remain steady as you answered. “Was starting to think you were the victim of a bad horror movie,” You mused, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your pajama pants while you awaited his response.

The line crackled with his heavy, slightly muffled breathing before he finally spoke. “So,” he began, drawing out the word, his tone laced with cocky amusement. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Your brow furrowed at his breathy voice, noticeably deeper than usual. “Yeah,” You replied, the confusion in your tone clear. “It’s you, dummy.”

A low chuckle rumbled through the speaker, sending a shiver down your spine. “Open your door, Y/ N,” Luke drawled, his voice dripping with something dark and teasing. “You’re looking… lonely.”

You froze, pulse quickening. “What the hell has gotten into you?” You asked, scrambling off the couch and padding cautiously toward the door. “You can’t see inside.”

Your hand hovered over the handle, thoughts racing.

Luke didn’t answer, offering only a low chuckle from the other side of the door. Irritation bubbled in your chest as you gripped the doorknob, mentally rehearsing a speech about the importance of communication. With a sharp exhale, you flung the door open, ready to confront him—only to freeze mid-breath.

You let out a loud gasp, any annoyance momentarily forgotten.

Luke stood there, leaning casually against your doorway, dressed head to toe in a Ghostface costume. The dark fabric clung to his broad shoulders, the mask in place, giving him an eerie, almost theatrical presence. Your eyebrows shot up as your eyes swept over him, caught between surprise and intrigue.

Slowly, with deliberate precision, Luke slid the mask up, revealing his face. Your breath hitched at the sight of him. His hair was artfully messy, most likely due to the mask. His pupils were wide and dark, the dim light catching the sharp gleam of his lip ring as it contrasted against the soft pink of his slightly parted lips.

A lazy, knowing smile spread across his face, one corner of his mouth quirking up just enough to send a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t help the way your lips parted in response, your gaze lingering on him longer than you intended.

“Happy Halloween,” he drawled, hanging up the phone his voice low and smooth, as if he had no idea—or perhaps full knowledge—of the effect he was having on you.

“Happy Halloween?” You echoed, anger surging through you as you stepped aside enough to let Luke inside. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Luke didn’t waste any time, grabbing your face in his gloved hands and pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Even though you were mad, more than mad, the feeling of his lips against yours was enough to send a shiver down your spine, your hands instinctively intertwining behind his neck.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice low and earnest as he kissed along your jawline. His hands moved to your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the breakfast island near the door. His lips trailed down the sensitive column of your neck, licking, nipping, and leaving you gasping for air. "Let me make it up to you."

Your eyes fluttered shut as heat pooled in your stomach, but you fought the pull. "No," you sighed, trying to steady your voice. Luke pulled back just enough to fix you with an exaggerated pout.

"I'm mad," you added, your tone unconvincing even to yourself.

Luke rolled his eyes, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as his hands settled on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Sure you are," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. Slowly, his hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt.

The rough texture of his gloved fingers against you soft skin made your breath hitch, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine despite your resolve to stay annoyed.

“I’m serious,” You insisted, your frown deepening. You hated how easily your body betrayed you, responding to Luke’s touch despite the simmering anger still coursing through you.

“So am I,” Luke replied, flashing that infuriatingly charming lopsided grin—the one that made your stomach flip no matter how mad you wanted to be. “And I really want to make it up to you.”

You let out an exasperated groan, your hand hesitating before tracing the line of his stubbled jaw. The contrast of roughness against your fingertips sent a shiver down your spine. “I want to stay mad at you,” You murmured, though your voice softened, betraying your resolve.

“Then stay mad,” Luke teased, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in to nip at your earlobe. His breath was warm against your skin, making your heart race. “It’ll make it more fun. Please, baby, I missed you.”

Your resolve crumbled further at the sincerity in his tone, your anger quickly being replaced by something softer. “I can’t be mad when you look at me like that,” you grumbled, your eyes fluttering closed as the heat of his lips against your neck made your breath hitch.

You felt him grin against your skin. "Good thing I brought a mask, then," he whispered huskily. With a teasing laugh, he pulled back just enough to capture your lips in a searing kiss. It was harsh, needy, his teeth grazing your lower lip as his hands roamed up your thighs, igniting a trail of fire with every touch.

Abruptly, Luke pulled away, leaving you breathless. Sliding the Ghostface mask back over his face, he tilted his head, the eerie blankness of the mask only adding to the tension.

Your breathing quickened as you stared at him, the stark white mask concealing his face but doing nothing to hide the magnetic pull between them. The faintest shiver of excitement coursed through you at the sight, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

Without a word, Luke swept you off the counter, eliciting a soft yelp of surprise. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms clinging to his shoulders as he carried you to the bedroom.

Luke dropped you onto the bed with little ceremony, his posture dominating as he loomed over you. Tilting his head again, he studied you intently, his breathing heavy. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and charged.

"Strip," he commanded, his voice muffled but firm behind the mask. Your eyes widened in surprise as he pulled a small compact knife from his pocket. He brought the tip of the blade to your jawline, dragging it lightly along her skin without breaking it.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his tone softer now, almost breathless.

You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew Luke would never hurt you—he would rather die than see you in harm's way—but the adrenaline coursing through your veins only heightened your excitement. Slowly, you nodded.

Your hands moved on instinct, crossing your arms to grip the hem of your shirt. With one swift movement, you pulled it over your head, tossing it aside. You could feel Luke's gaze on you even through the mask, his presence heavy and electrifying.

Reaching behind you, you unclasped your bra, letting it slip down your arms and onto the bed. The cool air brushed your bare skin, making you shiver as you waited, your breath hitching in anticipation of what he’d do next.

Slowly, Luke dragged the tip of the knife along your skin, never pressing hard enough to break it. The cool, faintly ticklish sensation sent a cascade of goosebumps down your arms. When the blade traced lazy circles around your nipple, your breath hitched, your body responding to his calculated movements.

"Take off your pants," he commanded, his voice low and steady behind the mask.

"Leave the panties on."

You nodded, fingers fumbling slightly as you shimmied out of your pajama pants. The intensity of his gaze—or what you imagined was his gaze behind the mask—kept you on edge, anticipation crackling in the air between the two of you.

Without saying a word, Luke pushed you back onto the mattress, his hands firm yet careful. Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned and began rummaging through your bedside drawer.

Your stomach fluttered as you realized exactly what he was looking for. Your throat went dry as he pulled out your vibrator—a bright pink wand you’d grown far too accustomed to during Luke's recent absence.

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement, pulse quickening as his grip tightened around the toy. "Looks like you've been keeping busy," he murmured, his tone tinged with amusement as he tilted his head. The mask obscured his face, but you could imagine the smug grin beneath it.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "Someone had to pick up the slack."

Luke chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"Oh, I plan to make up for it. But first..." Luke clicked the vibrator on, the low hum slicing through the quiet tension of the room as he stepped closer. "Let's see how well you've been taking care of yourself."

Instead of removing your underwear, he pressed the vibrator directly against your clothed clit. The sensation was immediate, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You arched your back, a gasp tumbling from your lips as your thighs trembled involuntarily.

Even with the thin barrier of your panties, the vibrations were overwhelming. Luke stood silently, watching your every reaction, the anonymity of the mask amplifying the heat between you two .

Your breath hitched as you glanced at him, the stark white of the mask hiding his expression, but you didn't miss the way his free hand slid down to rub against the growing strain in his pants. The sight sent another wave of desire crashing through you.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Luke murmured, his voice dripping with guilt and heat as he pressed the vibrator more firmly against you.

He leaned over you, bracing himself with one hand on the headboard while the other held the toy steady against your soaked panties.

"Sorry I left you all alone to take care of yourself. Bet you're so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

You let out a strangled moan, your hips bucking instinctively against the relentless vibrations.

"Yes," You whimpered, your voice trembling. Your head tilted back as waves of pleasure coursed through you, thighs shaking uncontrollably. You gripped the bed covers like a lifeline, your fingernails digging into the fabric as your body tensed.

The wetness soaking through your underwear made it impossible for you to ignore how close you were. Your clit throbbed, oversensitized but still chasing the high that was just out of reach. The familiar burn of your orgasm built steadily in your core, your breaths coming in sharp gasps.

Luke watched you intently, his masked head tilted in mock curiosity. The tension in his body was palpable, his free hand twitching as though resisting the urge to touch you further.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your hand shot up to remove the mask, desperate to see the expression on his face, to connect with him beyond the teasing. But Luke caught your wrist with lightning speed, his gloved fingers wrapping tightly around your arm.

"Ah, ah," he tutted, a playful edge to his voice. "You hate me, remember? Let me make it up to you without ruining the fun. No need to see my infuriating face."

Infuriatingly beautiful, you thought to yourself, biting back the words. Your breath hitched as the vibrations pushed you closer to the brink. "Please, Luke," you pleaded, your voice cracking with desperation. "I want to come."

Even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that Luke was smirking under his mask, staring at your squirming body with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, you will,” Luke chuckled. “But let me enjoy my apology, too.”

Luke's gloved hand slid down to your chest, gripping your soft flesh with a possessive hunger. His fingers kneaded your breast before pinching your hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your already oversensitized body. The sensations were overwhelming, and you let out a breathless gasp, your chest heaving as you struggled to hold yourself together.

"I'm so sorry," Luke murmured again, his voice a low rasp that seemed to reverberate through you. The apology was a trigger, pushing you completely over the edge. Your body tensed, and you came with a sharp, breathless cry, your eyes squeezing shut so tightly you feared you’d never open them again. Your back arched off the bed as waves of pleasure wracked your body, leaving you trembling and gasping for air.

Your hand instinctively reached up to grip Luke's forearm, desperate for something to anchor yourself with as the intensity of your orgasm left you shaking uncontrollably.

"That's it," Luke purred, his voice velvety and low, laced with satisfaction. "Good girl." But even as your body fell limp beneath him, the vibrator remained pressed against your clit, the relentless hum prolonging you overstimulation.

You whimpered, your thighs twitching as the sensitivity became almost unbearable. You squirmed beneath him, your breaths shallow and ragged. "Luke-" you gasped, pleading for mercy, but your words were swallowed by another tremor that shook you to your core.

Luke tilted his head, watching you writhe beneath him with a smug satisfaction that even the mask couldn't conceal. "Oh, no, baby," he murmured, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "I don't think l've apologized enough yet."

"Stay still for me," he commanded, his tone soft but firm as he reached for the knife he had discarded on the nightstand. The metallic click echoed in the room as he flipped it open, the gleam of the blade catching the dim light. He dragged it lightly across your skin, pressing just enough to leave faint red marks in its wake but never breaking the surface. The deliberate slowness of his movements made your core pulse with aching anticipation.

“Luke, please,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as unshed tears blurred your vision. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, heat spreading through your body like wildfire. “I’m so close—please—”

Just as you neared the edge, Luke lifted the vibrator from your clit, drawing a sharp, desperate cry of protest from your lips.

"I'm making this up to you, pretty girl," he said in a low, intoxicating tone, his voice laced with an almost possessive intensity. "Every second you were left alone, I'll make up for. I promise."

Your breath hitched, your chest rising and

falling as your trembling hands gripped the sheets. You nodded eagerly, your mind clouded with desire, barely able to form coherent thoughts.

Luke's gloved fingers trailed down your flushed skin, his touch featherlight yet electrifying. The cold blade followed the curve of your chest, gliding down your stomach in an excruciatingly slow path. The contrast between the cool steel and the warmth of your skin sent shivers coursing through you, leaving you utterly at his mercy.

Without warning, Luke pressed the vibrator back against your throbbing clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. Your body jolted at the sudden onslaught of sensation, the relentless hum pushing you closer to the brink once again.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his masked face tilting as if studying your reaction. His words, his touch, and the intoxicating rhythm of the vibrator all worked together to unravel you completely.

"Do you think you could forgive me?" Luke mused aloud, his voice muffled but still dark and teasing through the mask. "Or was it worth the wait? God i, you're so wet, baby. I can't wait to see that pretty little pussy. Can't wait to fuck it."

You let out a soft, broken moan, biting the inside of your cheek as his filthy words sent another rush of heat straight to your core. The vibrator rested against your oversensitive clit, its hum reverberating through you, while Luke's gloved hand slowly traveled up and down your trembling thigh.

"Please, Lu," you begged, your voice cracking under the weight of your desperation. "I need more. I want more."

Luke chuckled, low and sinful, dragging the knife across your stomach with deliberate slowness. He traced lazy patterns on your skin, careful not to press too hard, his gentleness juxtaposed with the danger of the blade. The contrast made your head spin, desire clouding your every thought.

"You want more?" he echoed mockingly. "So greedy, aren't we?" His grip on your thigh tightened, and the blade shifted lower, gliding over your panties with just enough pressure to make your hips jerk.

"Say it," Luke demanded, his tone dropping, leaving no room for refusal. "Tell me you want my cock. That's what you're begging for, isn't it? Say it."

You shivered, cheeks wet with tears that streamed freely down your face as you let out a strangled cry. "Please, Luke, I want your cock. Fuck me—please—"

Luke's chuckle was dark and satisfied as he moved the knife with precision, slicing through the delicate fabric of your panties in one swift motion. The shredded material slid down your legs, leaving you bare and utterly exposed to his gaze.

For a moment, you held your breath as the vibrator's relentless hum continued to torment you, but mercifully, Luke pulled it away. Your thighs quivered as the overwhelming sensations subsided slightly, only for your need to grow even stronger under his unwavering attention.

Luke tossed the ruin fabric aside. “Such a shame,” He whispered, climbing on the bed and working open the button of his jeans. “I really liked those.” His gloved hands grabbed your trembling thighs, spreading them open enough to make space for himself.

He took his time admiring you, wet and glistening before him. Although the mask hid his face, you could still hear his heavy breathing. You didn’t doubt that he was devouring your body with his eyes.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He whimpered, his gloved thumb brushing over your swollen clit, making your hips buck up in response. “So ready for me, aren’t you? This is what you’ve been thinking about, haven’t you? Me fucking you until you can’t even raise your head.”

“Yes,” You whispered, shaking with anticipation as your eyes flickered down to where he strained against his underwear. “Luke— I need you, please.”

He pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, his thumb still teasing your clit. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he pulled down his underwear, his erection quickly freed from its confines.

Luke's tip was flushed and slick with precum as he wrapped a gloved hand around his length, guiding it to your entrance with an infuriating slowness. "You've been such a good girl for me," he murmured, dragging himself along your slick folds and pausing to tease your swollen clit. His voice was thick with desire, each word dripping with intent.

"But do you think you can forgive me?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but before a single word escaped, Luke thrust into you with no warning. Your breath hitched as a sharp cry tore from your lips, back arching off the mattress as he stretched you in a way that felt both overwhelming and perfect. The days without him only amplified the sensation, the ache and fullness making your toes curl.

“Fuck,” Luke groaned, his voice slightly strained and breathless in your ear. He pressed deeper into you, burying himself to the hilt and stopping briefly to enjoy the feeling of it, of your walls wrapped tightly around him. “You feel so fucking good, so good f’me.”

“Only for you,” You gasped, feeling his gloved hand as it settled against your hip and gripped tightly. His other hand braced against the mattress next to your head.

“Y/N,” He rasped, still not moving. You clenched around him, whimpering in a desperate attempt to get him to move again. “I missed you so much.”

"I missed you,” You gasped, your voice a soft whimper as you writhed beneath him. The white mask loomed above you, adding a tantalizing mystery to the moment. You couldn't see his face, but you could imagine it perfectly—his blue eyes screwed shut, his teeth digging into the black lip ring he always toyed with when he was consumed by desire.

Your body tightened around him, adjusting to his size as waves of pleasure spread through you. Each second felt like an eternity, your core burning with need as your fingers clutched at his forearms for stability. "Lu," you whimpered, your voice breaking. "Please, I need you to move."

Luke's low chuckle reverberated through the room, the sound dark and teasing, making you clench around him involuntarily. He hissed sharply, the grip on your hip tightening as his gloved fingers pressed into your soft skin. "You're so needy, baby," he murmured, his tone dripping with smug amusement.

But he didn't make you wait any longer.

Slowly, he pulled his hips back, only to thrust forward again with deliberate intent. The drag of him inside you sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, and your head fell back against the pillows, a moan spilling from your lips.

Luke’s hips snapped hungrily against you, setting a punishing pace that made you screw your eyes shut in pleasure. He watched you writhe beneath him, your moans filling the room and mixing in with his.

You couldn’t help the way your body responded to Luke’s grunts and gasps, and you arched against him— the friction driving you wild. You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm and overstimulation, so every thrust made you see stars.

“You feel so good around me,” He whimpered, his voice muffled by the mask, but the strain in his tone was evident. “So tight and warm.”

You whimpered, your legs tightening around Luke’s waist as he continued to fuck into you. The mask obscured your view of his face, but the way his body moved with such fervor made it clear that he was just as affected as you were.

His chest heaved with every thrust, and your arms slid to his broad shoulders in search for an anchor. “Luke—“ You gasped. “Harder, please, fuck me harder.”

Luke laughed darkly, his hands tightening on your waist enough that she thought it might leave bruises. You found that you didn’t quite mind. “So fucking greedy,” He growled. “But you’re such a good girl, and I can’t say no to you.”

Luke’s pace picked up. His thrusts grew harder and deeper, more desperate as he felt you clench around him. The sound of your bodies clashing together and moans filled the room, and you felt yourself begin to grow close again.

Your head trashed against the pillow. “I’m close,” You sobbed, the intensity making your body fizzle with energy. “Oh, God.” Your nails dug into Luke’s shoulders.

“Come for me, Y/N,” He commanded. Luke leaned his masked face down, brushing against your ear. “Show me how much you missed me.”

His words were all the permission you needed, arching your back off the bed as a second, more forceful orgasm washed over you. A broken moan escaped your lips, your heels digging into the small of Luke’s back.

“That’s it,” Luke cooed, his voice filled with raw desire and pride. “So beautiful when you come for me.”

Your walls fluttered around him and you whimpered, meeting his hips with your own as you rode out your high.

But Luke didn't relent. Instead, he pulled off his mask, revealing his flushed, sweaty face.

His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, his movements never slowing as his hips continued to thrust into you with relentless force.

You let out a strangled yell, your body trembling from the overwhelming sensation. "Lu—" Your voice cracked as you gasped, breathless. "I can't—too much—"

But Luke didn't seem to hear you, driven by something primal, his need for you blinding.

“No,” He growled. “You can take it, baby, you’re doing so good. I’m not finished apologizing yet.” His thumb found your swollen clit again, rubbing firm, harsh circles on you.

You whimpered, shaking your head. But the newfound attention to your sensitive bud rekindled the flame low in your belly. The buildup was so much faster this time, so much more intense and tears slid down your face.

Luke's rhythm faltered, his movements growing erratic as his breathing became heavier. "God, you feel so good," he rasped, his voice rough with raw desire. "So fucking perfect."

The tidal wave building inside you finally crashed, pulling you under with an intensity that left you breathless. You screamed his name as your orgasm tore through you, a release so powerful it left you trembling uncontrollably. Warmth flooded between them, wetness pooling beneath you and soaking the mattress.

Luke froze for a moment, his eyes widening as he processed what had just happened.

"Holy shit, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with awe and arousal. "You squirted—"

The slickness and the rhythmic tightening of your walls around him pushed him past the edge he'd been teetering on. With a guttural growl, Luke buried his face in your neck, his body trembling as he drove into you one last time, deep and hard.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned, pressing a kiss to the soft flesh of your neck. You were breathing heavily, your mind a foggy mess as you looked into your boyfriend’s deep blue eyes.

He slid down your thighs, gently prying them open before leaning in to lick you clean. You let out a tired whimper, your body still slick and hypersensitive. The touch of Luke's tongue sent shivers through you—equal parts pleasure and overstimulation.

When he was satisfied, he rolled off you and climbed out of bed, peeling off his soaked costume while you watched in a cozy, contented silence. Once he was done, Luke settled back beside you, brushing a tender kiss against your lips, a soft contrast to the intensity that you had just shared.

When Luke pulled away and glanced at the mess on the mattress, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “So, I’m taking this as your way of saying you’ve forgiven me?” he teased, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your still-trembling thigh.

You ran your hands through his messy, sweat-dampened hair, your nails grazing his scalp. “I don’t know,” you murmured, a teasing smile curving your lips. “Throw in a Plan B, and we’ll call it even.”

Luke chuckled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to smirk. “Deal.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

send in your requests pls!!! hope you guys enjoyed 🤞

[chishiyaisasnack]

Shower time

Here’s a fic that I’ve been working on for a good while now and I’m finally content with posting it. It’s sfw even though it’s a shower scene. Mostly fluff (?) and a tiiiiiny but of angst.

Disclaimer! This story is based in the Borderlands and it mentions blood, wounds and trauma from it. It’s not about how they got injured, but more so very mildly describing that they are injured. I consider it sfw but it does contain nudity since they’re taking a shower, but I’m not describing bodyparts or anything. Also, small references to sex just for humor, but there is no smut whatsoever.

Oh, and the reader doesn’t know that Chishiya is a doctor.

I’ve written and am posting on mobile so I’m sorry for any formatting issues.

”I’m going to take a shower.”

With strong steps - actually more like a wobble - you walked into your room at The Beach, Chishiya following close behind you, watching your every movement just in case you would trip over your own feet, like you already had done about 30 times since you left the game area. It had been a rough one and it had left you wounded, exhausted and a bit lethargic. Not to mention the strain it had taken on your mental state, like the games always did, but you had turned off your feelings for now and had only one goal in mind: a long, warm shower to wash off all the remnants of the game.

”No you aren’t, it can wait until tomorrow.” Chishiya sounded like he always did, bored and condescending, but you knew that there was some worry in there somewhere. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered to follow you all the way back to your room, offering to catch you when you’d eventually fall.

”I feel gross. I’m covered in … stuff.” Blood. You were covered in blood. You raised your arms to make your point clearer, in case he missed what an absolute mess you were right now.

”Fine. Come on then.” Chishiya sighed, walked around you, and went towards the bathroom while you stood confused, watching him open the door and look back at you before stepping inside.

”Wait, what?” you asked, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Why was he joining you?

With slow steps you followed him, wondering if he got the wrong idea. He was gorgeous, but sex was the last thing on your mind, especially shower sex. Didn’t he say that you were in no condition to even take a shower to begin with? You stopped in the doorway and waited for a response.

”You most likely have a concussion, you’re wounded and you’re exhausted. You’re going to collapse by yourself.” He turned on the shower and let the stream of water fall, waiting for it to turn hot.

”Okay, okay, doctor.” The smirk you got back confused you even more. Did he have a thing for being called ’doctor’? It wouldn’t suprise you, he was a mystery. But even him would surely have preferrences. Wait, why were you thinking about sex again?

You shook your head as you walked inside the bathroom, limping past Chishiya as he was making his way out again. Or so you thought. In the corner of your eye you saw him stretch, but it wasn’t until you turned around that you saw what he really was doing.

”Uhh, why are you taking your clothes off?” Your eyes widened as his hoodie hit the floor. He had no shame, appearantly getting naked with you without warning was completely normal in his world.

”I’m getting ready to help you when you realise that I was right. Don’t worry, I won’t join you until you ask me to. Which will be soon, so I’m preparing for that.”

You didn’t know if you should feel thankful or offended by what he said.

Chishiya however, smirked again, cocking an eyebrow at your dumbfounded look. He was enjoying this. While still looking at you he started to pull down his shorts. Your eyes were fixed on the pile of clothes he had created on the floor, which thankfully wasn’t added with more pieces since he decided to keep at least his boxers on. The daring look he had on his face when you turned your eyes back up was annoying. Did he like that you were looking at him? Not that you were looking at him like that anyway. You just wanted to take a shower. Or so you told yourself.

With his shirt and pants off he sat down on the toilet seat, turning around so that he had his back against you and the glass wall of the shower.

”Go ahead” he said, a hint of amusement hiding in his voice. ”I won’t look.”

”You better not” you huffed back at him, watching him carefully while you started to remove your own clothes, ripped apart and stained with blood. Instead of putting them in a pile you threw them straight into the trashcan. Once removed, you looked into the mirror over the sink and you almost gasped at how wounded you actually were. Cuts and bruises covered your arms, legs and back. Patches of your skin were stained red, even your face still had traces of blood left on it. You looked terrible.

Sighing, you stopped studiyng yourself and looked over your shoulder. Chishiya was still sitting with his back against you, shoulders rising and falling slow with every breath, the muscles of his back tensing when he moved. He looked soft. You wondered what he would look like wet.

No! This was not the right time to daydream about Chishiya and his pretty back, his blonde hair that fell in waves over his shoulders, those shoulders that probably would feel great to hold on to while your lips were… Oh, for fucks sake, just get in the shower y/n.

After disrupting yourself from your thoughts you made your way into the shower, closing your eyes as the water started cascading down your body. The glass wall seperating the shower and the rest of the room was conveniently half covered with frosted glass so that it covered most of your body, from your shoulders down to your knees, making you a bit less embarrassed over being naked in the same room as him. Being naked in front of someone when it wasn’t sexual wasn’t your idea of calming, and even though he had no shame, you still had. This was too intimate, too casual. But if it was what it took to take a shower then you’d do it. Even though you didn’t like to admit it you did trust Chishiya to treat you with decency and respect. He might be considered one of the people you shouldn’t trust in the borderlands, a bad person perhaps, but not bad enough to overstep someones boundaries like this.

”Let me know when you need me.” Chishiyas voice rang somewhere in the distance. Not even a ’if you need me’. He was too confident and it just made you even more stubborn. You were definitely able to take a shower by yourself, you were damned to not let him win this one, you told yourself while reaching for the soap. With unsteady hands (no, they absolutely weren’t unsteady because you were tired) you started to scrub the dirt off yourself, one part at a time. You hissed whenever you discovered a new wound you weren’t aware of and eventually the pain from it made you a bit dizzy. No, you could do this.

You clenched your jaw as you continued, slowly moving from head to toe, covering yourself with suds. Finally, everything you could see and feel was gone, so you let the stream of water fall over you once again, closing your eyes, enjoying the warmth that it gave. You felt your muscles relax, your breathing slowing down, your eyelids getting heavier…

”Chishiya…” you mumbled weakly, mad that he was right, again.

”I’m here.” A voice right behind you made you jump. You turned around and swung your fist towards him, ready to punch him out of pure panic, but he caught it before it landed on him. The borderlands had really done a number on you, you were constantly prepared for survival and appearantly even Chishiya was a victim of your anxiety. ”Calm down, it’s just me.”

”How long have you been standing there?!” You wobbled to the side as you tried to fight your bodys urge to fall onto the ground from the sudden movements. Chishiya steadied you by holding your upper arms, and helped you turn back around so that your back was facing him again.

”You moved slower and slower so I was ready when you called for me. I haven’t been standing here ogling.”

”So you have been watching me?” You didn’t even think about the fact that you probably flashed him completely just now. Well, if he saw something he didn’t care about it, which was comforting in this situation.

”Of course. I couldn’t see anything other than your head anyway. It wasn’t quite the show you think it was.” Chishiyas voice was dripping with amusement.

Once again, you didn’t know if you should be thankful or offended.

”Give me the schampoo bottle.” Chishiya asked, or rather commanded, reaching his arm out next to you so you could hand him the bottle. Once he got it you could hear him shake it before opening it and pouring out some of the liquid in his hand, followed by a low thump as he put it on the floor behind you.

Slender fingers moved over your hair, softly massaging it with his fingertips, giving you full body shivers from the way his fingers drew circles between the strands. It felt nice. Safe. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes again and just relish in the warmth radiating from his hands. He was so careful with how he touched you, slow and gentle while he worked his way through all of your hair.

A part of you wished that he would step closer so that you could feel the warmth from his body wrap around you, so that you could lean back and relax in his arms, just enjoying how your body would feel so at ease while being comforted, but you had no idea how to ask him for that without it sounding sexual.

”Shower head, please.”

You did as he asked and handed him the shower head, turning up the water pressure while doing so to make it easier for him to rinse.

”Close your eyes and bend your head backwards. Tell me if you feel dizzy.” Chishiya didn’t sound so stern this time. His words were soft and comforting, asking you to trust him. So you did.

He rinsed your hair in silence. One hand holding the shower head while the other one kept massaging your scalp, making sure to rinse out the schampoo properly. Even though you desperately tried to relax and just enjoy the feeling of being taken care of, you couldn’t stop your emotions from seeping back into your mind. Pictures of the game were flashing before your eyes. People screaming. Fighting. Lasers going off.

”Chishiya…” you whispered, no longer able to stop thinking about what had happend earlier.

”Mhmm..?”

”There was a child there tonight.”

He didn’t answer but you could feel the movements in his hands stiffen as he continued to rinse your scalp free from schampoo.

”I didn’t know that there were children here” you continued, trying to get the thoughts out of your head so you wouldn’t be tormented by them during the night. ”I thought maybe we were sent here to repent or something like that, that we were getting what we deserve. But why would a child deserve this? Even if we are all randomly sent here, without any reason behind why it’s us in particular, why would they choose a child?”

”…I don’t know.” He sounded emtpy when he answered, not that you were expecting his words to be comforting. They rarely were. There was a long pause before he spoke again. ”Did the child make it?”

”Yeah…” A shiver ran trough your body when Chishiya stopped rinsing your hair, already missing the heat from the water. Another thump came from the floor when he put the shower head down. ”Some of us worked together and protected him as much as we could.”

”Do you have conditioner?” he interrupted, sticking his hand out next to you so that you could hand it to him. You placed the bottle in his hand and watched him retrieve it. A click of the bottle cap was followed by another thump when he put it down on the ground. You wondered how many times he must’ve stared at your ass by now.

”Anyway,” you continued, shaking the image of him smirking at your butt away. ”That’s why I look like this. I took the hits for him.”

”That sounds like you.”

You hummed at his words. It was reassuring that you were considered to be a nice person, even in this hellscape.

Gentle fingers threaded through your hair again and you leaned into the touch. It went by faster this time since he didn’t need to scrub, although you wished he would keep doing this for hours. Every time he let go of you - this time to pick up the shower head again - the ache in your body took over, making you tremble ever so slightly even though the steam from the hot water was surrounding you. You were relieved when you felt the water against your back, contently closing your eyes and bending your head back into Chishiyas palm.

”I envy you sometimes.” Chishiya mumbled, so quiet that the sound of the water almost drowned it out.

”You do?”

”I wouldn’t have helped someone else if it meant that I would have to work for it, let alone get hurt from it.” Chishiya paused briefly, like he was choosing his words carefully. ”Especially not a stranger. You didn’t think twice about doing so.”

”I don’t believe that.” You cut him off before he got the chance to put himself down even more. ”You’re better than you think, Chishiya. Just look at what you’re doing for me right now.”

”I’m washing your hair, I’m not saving you from dying.” You could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

”You don’t have to save me from death to help me. This is helping me. Besides, from the sound of your attempts to stop me from showering, I could die in here if you didn’t help me.”

”Maybe I just wanted to see you naked” Chishiya joked with such a monotone voice that anyone else would think he was serious, but you knew better. Well, if he was serious he had gotten his wish - paired with a fist coming at his face.

”Right” you snorted, too tired to laugh. A blush still crept over your cheeks, imagining his eyes on you in that way. ”Keep telling yourself that if that makes you feel better.”

”There” Chishiya ignored your answer and handed you the shower head. Cold air rushed to your skin as the water left it, leaving you almost begging for him to continue. Would it be so bad if you did?

”You can turn off the water now. I’ll get you some towels. Stay there.”

With a pout you put the shower head back into it’s place and turned off the water. Behind you, you could hear how Chishiya was gathering towels from a drawer, his footsteps making their way back over the tiled floor that would be cold and uninviting for your own feet in a second.

”Lift your arms a little.” You did as he asked and lift your arms halfway up, stopping waist high, only to see Chishiyas arms poking out from under them, holding up a towel that you thankfully grabbed a hold on and quickly wrapped around yourself to try to regain some of the warmth that the shower had given you.

”You’re safe to turn around now.”

”Thank you” you quitly replied as you gently spun around, just to be met by a still undressed Chishiya with his own towel hanging around his neck and a soft expression on his face. If you didn’t know better you would think that he was worried about you.

A smaller towel was in one of his hands - which soon landed on your head, covering your face at the same time. Your sour expression that was revealed as you peeled it off made him grin.

”Do you want help to dry it?” He asked, eyes shiny from amusement, and watched as you stubbornly started to squeeze the ends of your hair, too tired to lift your arms up and dry it completely.

”No, I’ll just put the towel over the pillow when I sleep. It’s fine” you replied, following his example and put your own towel over your shoulders. The chill in the air was starting to really get to you, and you decided that you couldn’t get to the bed fast enough. Just thinking about laying down, surrounded by warm covers, maybe even a pair of socks on your feet at first, burying your head on the pillow…

”The wounds on your back looked fine but I still need to cover some of them with bandaids. I need to examine your front too. Let me know when you’ve covered up so that I can check your arms, legs and stomach.”

Ugh, why did he have to interupt your dream about your bed with another naked request? You just wanted to sleep.

”I’m sure I’ll be fine Chishiya” you groaned back at him, slowly (and unsteadily) making your way past him and towards the bed. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, just a few more steps and you’d reach the doorhandle, that doorhandle that would open the gate and lead you straight towards the nice, warm, fluffy….

You groaned even louder when you felt a hand grip your arm, stopping your weak attempt to get out of the bathroom and keeping you still while Chishiya made his way around you so that he was facing you again. That calm face was back and you didn’t like it.

”Please, Chishiya, just let me sleep” you pleaded but to no avail.

”Come here.” You had no choice but to move after him, not being strong enough to even attempt to break loose from his grip on your arm, that was keeping you somewhat steady as you plopped one foot in front of the other until you reached the end of the bathroom. Then - lo and behold - Chishiya opened the door and led you out into the hotel room, making your way straight towards the bed. Right as he reached the foot of the bed he stopped and slowly turned the two of you around in a circle so that your back was now facing the bed, and then pushed you back so that you fell down on the soft duvet cover with a yelp. It felt like heaven to finally lay down, like a cloud was enveloping you and taking you with it to the land of dreams.

”Where are your underwear?” Chishiya once again interrupted your inner monolouge.

”Why? Wanna see them so badly even though you’ve already seen me naked?” You rolled your eyes and leaned your head to the side so that you could watch him dig around in a dresser until he grabbed the first, best pair of panties he could find and threw them at you.

”Put them on please, unless you want me to examine you naked. I’m fine with either way.”

You just huffed at him, secretly liking the playful look he was giving you. When he turned his back to you, you managed to shuffle around and get your panties on, just to let your legs fall back down onto the bed with a loud thump. God, you were exhausted.

”I’m done, doctor.” Once again, he reacted with a grin and you were now positive that he had some wierd doctor patient kink and that you were so going to make him confess that. A mission for another day.

Chishiya sat down next to your legs and reached over them to pick up a first aid kit you didn’t even know was laying next to you. Was he a wizard too?

You kept still, listening to the opening of packets, a liquid poured onto what you imagined was a cotton ball, and then your own hiss as he touched the first wound on your leg. It wasn’t the liquid that hurt, it was just the tender touch from the gauze he dabbed against your skin that hurt enough to make you wince. He must have started on a bad one.

”Try to keep still” he murmured gently, sounding like he was completely occupied with his task of tormenting you just a bit more before letting you sleep.

You stayed as still as you could, trying to concentrate on his hands and fingers working their way over your legs, dabbing it with the liquid, letting it dry, then putting a compress and some adhesive tape over it like a home made band aid. His touch was so gentle that it was barely there.

Your eyelids turned heavier with every touch of his fingertips and even though your wounds were stinging, his warm skin eased the pain afterwards and comforted you without knowing so. Before falling asleep you murmured a ”thank you.”

The last thing you remembered was the feeling of being enveloped in something warm, probably the cover that wasn’t underneath you and a soft whisper.

”You’re welcome.”

[darks-ink]

Welcome back! I saw you are taking story ideas so I wanted to submit two of the prompts I wrote for Phic Phight.

1) Danny's excuse when someone notices the resemblance between Fenton and Phantom and comes too close to his secret: The ghost is his dead twin who he ate in the womb. This might have more truth to it than he originally thought.

2) Long ago Clockwork had and lost a child, the young Ancient of Space. Even with his Sight of time, he could never see what became of them, only that they disappeared. Now another being that evades his Sight has crashed into his existence. Another child, and this one a boy with the stars in his eyes and the cold of space in his veins.

I hope you like either of these!

Thank you! I went with #1, but admittedly it turned out a little short.

Duplicity

Rating: Gen Warnings: focuses on vanishing twins & the formation of ghosts, especially in connection to each other Words: 770 Additional Tags: Post-reveal, Good Fenton parents

[AO3]

---

“You know, one thing still confuses me about ghost cores.” Danny resisted the temptation to fidget when three pairs of eyes turned to him. “Or, uh, the cores of half-ghosts, at least?”

“Do tell, Great One, and perhaps I can answer.” Frostbite turned further to face him.

“Well, um.” Danny’s eyes darted over to his parents, briefly, before returning to Frostbite. “Isn’t it kinda weird that my core is more stable than Dani and Vlad? Like, I thought Dani was just because she was a clone, so she was destabilizing, but apparently Vlad got really sick as he was developing his powers? But I was, well, fine?” He shrugged, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words.

His mother hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything. Neither did his dad, though he did frown.

“Of course not. Both other half-ghosts you refer to had to develop their own cores, growing them from scratch. You, on the other hand, absorbed yours from another ghost, thus stepping past the initial growing pains.”

Danny felt his heart stop. His core freeze. Thoughts grinding to a halt.

“Excuse me?” he blurted out, automatically, incredulously. “Are you telling me I killed another ghost?”

“No, no.” Frostbite lifted his hands, voice dropping into a soothing tone. “Although it is not unheard of for proper ghosts to fuse together into one, this sort of core-binding is only possible with blob ghosts.”

“And blob ghosts aren’t truly sentient, right?” Maddie hummed in thought, saving Danny the effort of trying to figure out what, exactly, Frostbite meant. “They’re barely more than free-floating ectoplasm, which is common here in the Ghost Zone.”

Frostbite nodded. “Indeed. A more developed ghost couldn’t have been absorbed in such a manner, so there is no need to worry, Great One.”

“That’s a relief.” Danny heaved a sigh. It still felt weird to imagine that his core wasn’t originally his, that it had developed separately, but, well. At least he hadn’t killed someone in the process.

“Although,” Frostbite suddenly started, interrupting Danny’s thoughts. “It is very unusual.”

“Oh?” Danny felt like slapping himself. Why did he ask for more information? He regretted asking in the first place. Knowing more wasn’t going to make himself feel better, was it?

But his parents would probably have asked if he hadn’t. Right? Yeah, definitely.

“Typically, ghosts require some form of connection to be present to bind together. Two fully-formed ghosts can fuse over shared goals or other such traits, but such a thing isn’t possible with a blob ghost. To absorb one of those, a more tangible connection is required.”

Frostbite eyed Danny, but he couldn’t quite read the emotion in his eyes. “Obviously the power of the Ghost Portal let you bypass the part where you weren’t a ghost yourself—” or perhaps he was dying and turning into a ghost anyway, “—but that connection would’ve still been necessary.”

But how. What? Who? The blob ghost must’ve come from somewhere, something, someone, but Danny couldn’t imagine, couldn’t think—

“Oh, that makes sense,” Maddie said, voice casual. “Danny absorbed his twin in the womb, so it makes sense for him to do the same thing with his twin’s ghost.”

“What?” Danny blurted out, turning to her in shock. “I had a twin? A twin I absorbed?!”

“Well, yes.” Maddie nodded, looking at him in confusion. “Of course, it happened fairly early on, so he wouldn’t have become a real ghost. But the impression of it, the potential of a twin gained and lost, that would’ve been enough form a blob ghost.” She turned to Frostbite. “Right?”

“Right.” Frostbite nodded back. “And yes, a connection like that would have worked quite well. A connection of blood and spirit, an action repeated. An echo between life and death.”

Danny shook his head. Well. Jerked his head side to side. “Are you serious? Why are you all acting like this is—this is normal, totally expected?”

“I thought you knew, honey.” Maddie was frowning at him now, confusion deepening. “Weren’t you the one who started using it as a cover?”

“What?” He blinked at her, then realized. Yes. Yes, he had been using that as an excuse for the resemblance between Danny Fenton and Phantom. A dead twin, a ghost which looked just like the living Danny. “I didn’t—I didn’t think it was real.”

“Oh.” She shot an uncertain look at Jack, then Frostbite, then turned to him. “Well. You know now?”

Danny stared at her, incredulous. Then shook his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do now.”

But what the hell was he supposed to think of all this?

[forestkniight]

Quitting I.M.P.

So... this is my first post on Tumblr! I'm not sure if I formatted everything correctly, but I hope it's somewhat readable! I decided I would go a bit tame on my first post since it's also been a long while since I've written anything for fun, but I hope y'all enjoy!!

Pairing: Blitz x Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

You felt the anger boiling over as you and the other I.M.P. crew crossed into Hell from where you were on Earth. 

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Kill some cheating husband or something of the sort. It should have been a quick in and out, and to be fair, it was. That’s not what bothered you. 

For the past couple of missions, Blitz had taken away your chance to kill anyone. Every time you set up to kill the target, he would swipe in and kill them first, or he would have Millie or Moxxie take care of it. You knew you were one of the more recent additions to this business, but you had done more than prove yourself working with them in the first few weeks. It pissed you off, and this time around wasn’t any different. 

You were packing away your lunch quickly as you tried your best to mask your frustration and anger. 

“Are you good? You look like you want to bite off someone’s head,” Loona said as she took notice of how hard you were clutching your bag. 

“Just peachy,” you muttered as you began heading out. 

Luck, however, was not on your side as you remembered that the entire crew was supposed to go out for drinks that night. 

“Took you long enough, (Y/N)! The fuck were you doing anyways,” Blitz asked as you stepped back into the main lobby. 

You had to fight off a snarl that threatened to come out. Both Millie and Moxxie noticed something was wrong since your sweet demeanor was nowhere to be found. You took a breath before responding.

“I was packing up my stuff for the night,” you calmly responded, ensuring your emotions weren’t showing. You knew leaving it all pent up would end up bubbling over, but it hadn’t happened yet.

“You could just leave it here! Drinks are on me tonight!” 

You clutched your bag tighter and saw Moxxie looking back and forth between you and Blitz. 

Moxxie was the only one who knew about your crush on your boss because he happened to find you drunk at a bar one time and wanted to make sure you got home safe. Boy had you spilled a lot of information about your feelings that night. Luckily for you, Moxxie wasn’t the meddling type, though he did encourage you to tell Blitz how you felt. 

“Respectfully, sir, I’m really tired, and I just want to go home,” you said with a bit more hostility than you meant to.

The crew looked at you, confused. 

“Maybe we can do this another-“ Moxxie tried to interject, but Blitz interrupted him.

“The fucks got your panties in a twist?” 

You felt your eye twitch as Moxxie cringed. 

“I don’t know SIR. How about the fact that these past few clients we’ve had, you’ve managed to take the opportunity from me to kill them,” you spit out in exasperation. 

“Are you fucking serious right now,” Blitz moved closer to you, “You’re getting paid regardless. Why the fuck does it matter?” 

You clenched your fist tighter but stayed firm where you stood.

“I didn’t join this fucking business just to stand around and look pretty asshole!” 

You saw Blitz’s eye widen at the curse word since he wasn’t used to hearing it come from your mouth. 

“If you think I’m shit at my job, then fucking fire me or tell me what I’m doing wrong,” you yelled at him.

He remained speechless before you saw his expression change.

“Maybe I fucking should! At least someone who is actually pretty to look at, just in case, you bitch!” Blitz yelled in your face.

The silence that followed was extremely tense, as you and Blitz were suddenly very much in each other’s space. You felt your heart completely break, and Moxxie saw the quick, pained expression you couldn’t hide before becoming stoic. 

“Sir, that was uncalled for. They are highly skilled at their job. It would be a mistake-“ 

“No, you know what Moxxie? You heard it from the boss himself,” you laughed mirthlessly, cutting Moxxie off.  

You backed away from Blitz and picked up the bag you had dropped at some point during the screaming match. You began walking towards the door. Moxxie tried to stop you, but one stare showed that you weren’t fucking around. You heard Blitz sigh behind you.

“(Y/N), wait-“ Blitz started as you turned around quickly with your hand on the door handle.

“No, Blitz. I’ll make this easier for you. I fucking quit. Find someone better than me in all aspects,” you say harshly. 

You couldn’t help the tears that were pooling. Blitz’s eyes softened when he noticed, but you didn’t see it. You were ready to go, so you pushed open the door.

“You can’t just quit like that! On such short fucking notice! I can’t find someone that fucking quick,” Blitz yelled.

You couldn’t hear the desperation in his voice, only that he was yelling at you. 

“Don’t fucking yell at me! This business is no longer my fucking problem! God, I can’t believe I ever had feelings for you,” you scream at him as you walk out the door and slam it behind you. 

You were unaware of the chaos you left behind when that door closed.

~~

It had been a week since you quit I.M.P.

Luckily, you were wiser with your paychecks than Blitz, so you had enough to tide you over while you searched for a new job. 

Everyone except Blitz had come to visit you separately. The first and shortest visit was Loona. You had forgotten your favorite necklace in the office and begged her to drop it off. 

When she arrived, she was surprised to see you in disarray. Your hair was slightly messy, your eyes puffy, and you hadn’t changed out of your PJs. It was the day after, and you were utterly heartbroken. 

“Thanks, Loona,” you whispered as you took your favorite necklace back.

“No problem. Blitz saw me leaving with it, though. Moxxie managed to step in before he could reach me. Not like I would have handed it to him anyway.” 

There wasn’t much conversation before she decided to return to the office.

The following person to visit was Millie. Luckily, she saw you in a better state than Loona did, but your eyes hadn’t lost their puffiness. 

“Me and Mox miss you, (Y/N). It’s not the same without you,” Millie said as she passed you a pint of ice cream. 

“Right…”

“I’m serious! We know you’re good at killing, but you were also fun on the field!” Millie looked at you, and you knew she was being genuine. You thanked her, and she stayed with you that night, watching many movies. 

The last person to visit was Moxxie, who had much more to say.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but what made you think that was the best way to confess?” Mox said as he stood right next to you in your bed. 

“It just came out, Mox. I didn’t mean to,” you sighed as you tried to fight off the tears again, “I wanted my words to hurt him as much as he did.”

After speaking those words out loud, you curled into yourself and silently cried. You heard Moxxie sigh.

“(Y/N), I really think you should talk to him,” Moxxie said, something in his tone. 

Still, you didn’t respond.

“I know he can be- “

“Moxxie….I need you to leave,” you said with a tear-filled voice. 

“(Y/N),” Moxxie tried to start again. 

“Please,” you begged. 

“Fine…I’ll be back, though,” he said, sighing. 

You felt a kiss on your head, and a few seconds later, you heard the door close. You let yourself cry and spend the rest of the day in bed.

~~

That was two days ago. You finally had enough and knew the money wasn’t never-ending. You began your job searching, but you weren’t having any luck.

You sighed as you dropped face-first on your couch, trying to forget all the horrible interviews you had been on today. You weren’t a perfect fit for any of the jobs, and you were beginning to wonder if it was worth it to return and get your job back.

You looked at the time and realized that you had been out all day. You decided to change into your comfy pajama shorts and tank top, deciding you weren’t going out anymore. If you were still working at I.M.P., you would have much more to do on a Friday night. 

You turned on the TV, letting it lull you to sleep as you spent another night alone.

~~

You were awoken at 1 AM by knocking on the door. You groaned as you wondered who could be waking you up at this hour. Moxxie did say he would be back, but you didn’t think it’d be in the dead of night. You yanked the door open, speaking before processing who stood before you.

“Damn it, Mox, I was slee-“ You cut off your words when you realized it wasn’t Moxxie in front of you, but Blitz.

You moved to shut your door again, but he shoved his foot in the door frame before pushing the door open and inviting himself in.

“That’s fucking rude,” Blitz said harshly as he took a look around your apartment.

“Says the asshole who’s inside an apartment that he wasn’t invited into,” you spat back at him. 

You saw Blitz roll his eyes and turn back to face you fully. You avoided his eye contact as you walked to your kitchen to get a drink of water. You heard the clicks of Blitz’s boots as he followed you.

As you filled your cup, you tried to think of what to say, but luckily, you wouldn’t have to.

“Can we talk?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Blitz,” you said as you moved past him to walk to your bedroom, “I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Christ on a stick (Y/N), can you stop being a bitch for 5 seconds,” Blitz told you as you set your water down on your nightstand.

“Get the fuck out of my room! No, out of my house,” you yelled, walking towards him, having half a mind to toss him out. 

“No, not until we fucking talk,” Blitz said as he closed your bedroom door and walked towards you.

“I’ve already said there’s nothing to talk about,” you yelled in exasperation.

“Fucking fine,” Blitz yelled back. 

You watched him turn to your door, hand on the handle. You were confused as to why he wasn’t leaving.

“Are you waiting for an invitation, Blitz!? Get the fuck out,” you began walking towards him again. 

“Fuck this shit,” you heard him mutter before he abruptly turned around.

You had no time to react before Blitz pulled you into him and kissed you hard. You let out a squeak of surprise, and Blitz used this to deepen the kiss. After the initial surprise, you began kissing back. The kiss was desperate, your teeth clashing and your pulse rising significantly.

You had no idea this was where the night would take you.

I hope that was fine! Please bear with me as I try to get used to Tumblr (and forgive any formatting errors)!

Also, please always let me know if I forgot to tag a warning!

[lucvly]

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS ! — chris sturniolo. ♪

warnings › smut, lowkey sub!chris but not really, toxic dynamics between reader and chris if you squint. NOT PROOFREAD.

author’s note › hi i miss writing so i might spam post all my drafts ?? also i’m trying a new format w my posts so have mercy ! 🙏☹️ talk to me through my inbox i miss you guys So bad. — this is somehow the longest fic i’ve written ? the ending is sloppy Sorry i got lazy.

being friends with benefits with chris would be such an ordeal and such a chore, knowing that the same chris who held your head against the mattress as he rutted into you was also the same chris who barely even talked to you at friendly gatherings.

at first, you didn’t mind it– that was what you agreed upon after all, no in person contact, nothing that would give out the fact that you meet almost everyday. however, after a while of being on the down low, you started to feel somewhat neglected, though you knew you didn’t have the right to. you weren’t even together, so there was no reason for you to be questioning your place.

but oh, all that willpower crumbled when you saw the prettiest blonde indecently close to chris, laughing at every single word that came out of his mouth, her head seductively tilting to the side as she looked up at him, batting her eyelashes at him as her hand rubbed his shoulder innocently.

the grip on the red cup you were holding tightened, biting down on your lip, forcing yourself to look away and forget you even saw the whole scene that was right in front of your eyes.

you made your way towards the pool, almost managing to fully forget about him and the girl in front of him as you took small sips of whatever was in your drink. you didn’t even know what was in the small red cup, you just knew it had alcohol and that was more than enough knowledge.

the cool water was definitely a relief against your skin, instantly making you feel more at ease as you sighed pleasantly, and somehow you could feel a presence behind you, the water moving around to confirm your suspicions– then suddenly, a gentle tap on your shoulder, causing you to turn around and face who you were hoping you weren’t going to run into for the rest of the night.

“you gonna keep ignoring me the whole night?” his tone was playful, a half smile– almost a smirk spreading across his lips, and even though he was teasing, you knew he still meant every word.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you retorted, a slight venom to your voice he couldn’t quite put together or figure out. your eyebrows were raised in amusement, almost at the audacity of the question itself.

“okay attitude.” he teased once again, his eyebrows furrowing as he ever so slightly tilted his head to the side, indicating confusion and curiosity towards your tone. “what’s up?”

he made his way closer to you, his hands traveling to your hips, thumbs rubbing small and comforting circles into your skin. the water incorporating as he massaged the sides of your hips making it even better.

“you have fun with the blonde?” the question just slipped from your lips. you didn’t mean for it to sound as aggressive as it did, but you couldn’t help it, the scene was annoying– and overall just uncomfortable to watch.

“oh, that’s what this is about.” his lips curled into a smirk, his hands still resting on your hips. “jealous?”

“no, just curious.” you answered quickly, attempting to not show any sort of emotion aside from curiosity just to avoid feeding into his inflated ego.

“i’m kidding, she was just complimenting me, relax.” one of his hands left your waist and surfaced from the water, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “couldn’t stop staring at you,” his voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“yeah?” you whispered, your lips curling into a smirk as his hand went back to your waist, pulling your body closer to his, his eyes not so discreetly looking down at your lips, then back at your eyes.

“yeah.” he spoke under his breath before crashing his lips onto yours for a heated kiss, you could feel the neediness as your tongues fought for dominance, deciding to let him take over.

your arms snaked around his neck, pulling yourself even closer towards him as the kiss became needier, hungrier for each other. you slightly jumped as his hands now moved to your ass, helping your legs wrap around his waist.

you two never normally did this publicly, never even thought about it. it was always just between you two. sure, your friends had their suspicions, that’s why this situation of yours was always kept on the low.

you were suddenly pulled out from your thoughts, feeling his hard on against you, making you let out a small giggle into the kiss as one of your hands traveled down his chest painfully slowly, finally landing on his crotch, causing him to let out a soft groan, his hips uncontrollably bucking up slightly to meet your hand.

you could tell he was growing desperate, which just made it ten times more fun, your hand continuing to palm him through his swim trunks, the pleas he was letting out of his pretty mouth were almost music to your ears.

“shit– keep going,” he whispered, his voice soft and needy, his hips still gently bucking up into your hand as he slightly threw his head back, his mouth open agape.

you complied to his request, this time now slipping your hand into his trunks, stroking him directly with a bit more speed. you could tell he was close– his breaths were heavy and unsteady, and he was bucking into your hand more desperately than before.

“i’m so close– fuck,” he panted out, his breathing was heavy, his eyes glossy as he focused on your every stroke and small movement, when all of the sudden– he was pulled out of the blissful trance, your movements completely stopping.

“seriously?” it came out as a soft whine and almost– barely, a choked sob. you let out a small chuckle, placing a quick kiss to his lips and pulling away.

“go tell the blonde to get you off,” you joked, a smirk on your face as you moved towards the stairway to exit the pool, feeling chris chase you around like a lost puppy.

“you’re insufferable. i’m not putting up with this anymore, come on.” his voice suddenly shifted, grabbing your hand and pulling you to follow him. you could tell he was fed up– what he didn’t know is that this was your plan all along, and he walked right into it.

[tuliptired]

One-shot for Egon? Egon and the reader that constantly throws him off guard with their flirting?

Shut Up, You're Stupid, Just Kiss Me

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Gn!Reader

if you saw me post this to the wrong ask you actually didn't

better formatting on Ao3 😔

Another one of these benefit-things. Egon understood the whole spiel- show up and look nice so the city doesn’t shut them down and a few nonprofits can look generous. But they got repetitive quickly. He didn’t even know why they were invited to this one. But, Ray insisted that it’d be good for them- and possible investors. Everyday sacrifices.

Ray and Winston always handled the networking part of the night, while Peter sat next to him at the bar, absolutely bored out of his mind as he toyed with an empty glass, head in his hand. Egon didn’t drink, but for some reason these bars were the only seats in the entire ballroom. It never made much of a difference, as he always spent the majority of his time observing the guests or the bottles on the wall, or wondering what he’d do when he got home. 

“Egoooooon,” Peter whined for the 10th time that night as his head hit the bartop. “I don’t know what to do.” They’d been through this. 

“Do what you always do. Get drunk. Talk to women.”

Peter’s cheek lay against the wood as he turned to face him, eyelids lower than usual. “But I miss my girlfriend.”

“Halfway there.” Egon righted his forgotten glass as it threatened to roll off the bar.

“You don’t get it, man. I’m committed now.” If that was a solemn vow or a complaint, it was hard to tell. 

A pair of women stood next to them at the bar, giving quick apologies for the close proximity. Peter notices Egon’s shoulders square, and suddenly becomes very interested in tonight.

He perked up quickly, leaning into Egon. “Y’know what would make my night? Seeing you take a chance. Don’t shake your head- you know I’m right.” Egon shut it down silently, shrugging off Peter’s hands. Peter was right, he hadn’t “taken a chance” in what felt like forever. Peter’s voice continued to try and convince him, as it was tuned out into a low vibration of sounds. 

Romance- or love, didn’t scare Egon. He was a grown man, after all, and he figured he understood it well enough. But that was his downfall. Person A is attracted to Person B, and they start dating- it was a simple equation. Peter and Dana defied the equation at times. But they put themselves back into it. Louis and Janine bent the rules of the equation. Could he do that? Could he break the rules, make new ones, to law that evolves every moment? Peter’s voice turned into a ring. This didn’t matter. People didn’t look at him.

He first experienced that realization in high school, the week of a dance. Big ears, big glasses- but Peter had a date. Peter always had a date. Did he want a date? Someone to hold when it was dark? To blush with as they got dressed up together? He was only human. But would he ever get that? All signs pointed to no. So, he stopped worrying about it all together. It was easier to ignore while his nose was in a book. 

Peter was practically draped over his shoulders. “Do you want me to die, Spenges?” 

“Can’t you bother someone else?” He didn’t mean to snap. It was just an unpleasant moment of awareness, it always was. 

Peter was unmoved. “Oh, Egon. Is it ‘cause they’re girls?” He jumped from his stool as Egon decided to remove himself from the bar. “Sit, sit, sitsitsit. I’ll go and find Ray. I think you need a nap, anyway.” Peter disappeared into the crowd before Egon could join him. 

Loneliness. Maybe he really should start drinking. Or, coat tailing after Peter found Ray to get out of here sooner.

He couldn’t stew in his increasing misery for long, as he felt a presence behind him. As he turned around to be freed from tonight, to stick to Ray or Winston’s side like a lost kid, he was met with a different sight.

Oh god.

“Mr. Spengler!” Your cheery face beamed. “It’s been a while. Is anyone sitting here?” Not anymore, you were already lowering your butt into it. 

He remembers you well. He was required to take an Humanities class, something about ethics and morals in STEM students. You were a TA, the professor explained  not necessarily going into that field, but taking the opportunity anyway. Egon considered himself to be well-rounded academically. But you were near tyrannical. In a class of liberal arts, english, and history majors, he stuck out like a sore thumb. You picked on him relentlessly, engaging in back and forth discussion that the rest of the lecture watched on. Even the professor.

Independent analysis- each student assigned a poem and asked to dissect it. “But, Mr. Spengler, surely you’re not insinuating that the speaker didn’t grow throughout her poem?” Your voice was loud, though the hall was smaller than normal and his seat was much closer to the front than he remembers it being yesterday.

You were always on the side of emotion and subtext, him on the side of logic and literalism. “In 6 stanzas, she wrote about flowers. I’m insinuating that her perspective did not grow in those 6 stanzas.”

You turned your back to him, moving to the large chalkboard. “Are you sure you’re not dancing around the fact that your assignment was an allegory for sex?” The class broke, and his face flushed into a bright, knowing red, as you flashed him a bright, knowing smile.

Relentless torture. You’d stop him before he could leave the hall, a timed essay in your hands that you’d returned to everyone but him.

“Interesting topic,” you offered, after an hour of grilling him. As he reached for the paper, you pulled your hand back.

“Your writing is improving. You do exceptionally well when it’s something you enjoy.” You let him take it.

You start for your things by your desk, before calling out into the empty room. “And you’re cute when you actually try!”

So he decided that he hated you. It was the only plausible explanation. He left your debates cherry pink , stumbling over his own words. He could have sworn that he was beyond intelligent. But when he stepped into that room with you he became a bumbling idiot. And hate was a powerful thing. He found himself contemplating what would occur that day as he made his trek across campus. He was sure he’d understood the essay he was assigned to the point of being able to recite it. That would show you. But you shut him down, and up. No matter how calculated and practiced his responses were, you tore down his guard with your comments. How could someone who made him feel so stupid say such…things? He sat alone at night, pondering his ailment. You confused him to an intense degree. Sweaty palms, increased heart rate- this was hate, white and hot. 

The morning before he graduated, preparing to return in the fall for his doctorate, he appeared in the desolate classroom, as you cleaned out filing cabinets. 

You looked up from underneath the desk, the smile he’d seen for a whole semester spreading on your lips. ��Your reception outfit is nice, Mr. Spengler.”

God damn it. Why was he here again? The grip on his bag tightened as he scoured through his brain for any recollection. You had a box in your arms, simply passing him.

“Don’t change,” and the door shut behind you.

How he hated you. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” you managed to order a drink while talking directly to him.

“Of course.” Sweaty palms, increased heart rate. 

You sipped your glass. “You finished your doctorate? No more school?”  

He adjusted to spontaneous conversation, albeit slowly. He didn’t face you as he responded. “No more school.” You let out a noise of surprise.

“Doctor Spengler. I like that.” His ears burned. 

“And you’re doing the ghost-thing?” Oversimplification. But he found himself not caring when the words fell from your lips. 

“Full-time.”

“I get your ads 24/7. You look great in a jumpsuit.” His long legs jerked against the underside of the bar, and he heard you stifle a laugh. His stomach soared. Vitriol.

There was a hand on his arm. That commanded his attention. If he wasn’t full of…rage then, he was now. 

You murmured. “I don’t still make you nervous, do I, Dr. Spengler?”  He couldn’t breathe. As he opened his mouth, the only sounds that came out were stammers. You just laughed, squeezing his arm as you rose from the stool.

“I’ve gotta get going. Goodnight, Dr. Spengler.” You were gone before he could blink.

Nights later in the firehouse, in the safety of his lab, he couldn’t focus. How ironic? As he trotted down the steps for fresh air, the phone rang out. Janine was out for her lunch, and the others were still on the road from a last minute job. He sighed.

“Ghostbusters.” 

“Hey, Dr. Spengler. I enjoyed seeing you again and,” He held the phone to his ear with two hands. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner tomorrow night?”

He hated you. He’d show you just how smart he was by hanging up, ending this (one-sided) college feud.

“We’re back,” Ray’s voice startled him as he leaned against the desk’s edge staring at nothing. “Did we get a call?” He looks to the phone, resting on the tabletop rather than its proper place. Egon swallows.

“Just one.”

“Okay?” They wouldn’t accept his answer. He averted his eyes.

He conceded, letting himself lean back against the desk again. “An old TA.”

Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “The one who used to needle you all the time?” Ray had never met you, but he recalled Egon’s bad moods after having left your class. 

“Egon’s got a bully,” Peter directed at Winston as he did something in his own open office, behind Janine’s desk. “What’d they want?”

He took a short breath. “Dinner.”

Peter whistled. “Gutsy,” Winston offered as he sent Peter a look of shared surprise. Ray kept his attention on Egon.

“Good on you for saying no.” Egon was silent.

Peter reappeared. “You said no, right?”

More silence. Egon was a weak, weak man. Peter put him in a headlock, pulling him in tight as Ray’s eyes blew out, wide, and Winston laughed in disbelief. 

“Spenges is a big fat masochist!”

A woman walked in for an in-person consultation, confused at the sudden spectacle.

“Would you be quiet?”

You were (fashionably) late. 5 minutes and 23 seconds, to be exact, but he wouldn’t mention it. Not while you were going on about losing your house keys before you were about to leave. As you talked, he couldn’t help but notice how nice you looked in the warm lighting of the restaurant. Jealousy, perhaps?

So he let you talk. And talk. But he didn’t find himself searching for other stimuli like he normally did with characteristically chatty people. You seemed nervous, cringing a bit after every poorly measured story or unintentional confession. He had a bit of an upper hand. He smiled to himself, albeit small.

“What?” You grinned back, probing him. 

“Nothing,” he took a sip from the water he’d been nursing in place of wine. His expression was smug, hidden behind the lip of the glass.

“How’d you stay single, with a face like that?”

He choked on his water, setting the glass down as he coughed into his elbow. You had your head in your hand, leering at him like he was food. “I beg your pardon?”

“When you were post-grad? Guys and girls lined up outside your office to speak to you. And it wasn’t for your brain.”

You were messing with him, like you always were. But he’d bite. “They were eager to learn.”

You drew your hands up, incredulously. “Yeah, eager to learn what you looked like naked.” For the first time in his Jewish upbringing, he felt compelled to utter the name Jesus Christ.

The night went on for a bit longer. Against his better judgment, he started to find you funny. And witty. And incredibly alluring. You strung him along for 10 minutes about a classic of fiction, only to reveal that it was a personal story of your sexuality. And then you did it again, this time making a comment about his rear end. He couldn’t help but be startled every time.

You let him go on a tangent about his studies at one point, watching and listening intently. He felt the feeling rise in him again. This must have been full revulsion, because he couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. His cheeks began to grow sore from prolonged, uncontrollable smiling- what he considered to be himself reverting back to primal reactions from how hot his hatred burned. You fell into your old ways, going back and forth about a classic he’d read between then and college. He felt like he did in that lecture hall, temperature increased and body leaned towards yours.

“Assine point of view, Dr. Spengler,” you crossed your arms. The name made him feel like he’d collapse onto the floor every time you said it, however the scene was made in a fancy restaurant. 

Begrudgingly, he spoke up, voice weaker than it had been in hours. “You can call me Egon.” He absentmindedly picked up his glass.

You shook your head, twice. “Dr. Spengler is fine. It's pretty fun to say in bed.”

The glass in his hand shattered in his white knuckled fist. That’s how you both were escorted out the establishment, partially for the glass now strewn into the carpeting as well as his palm, in addition to his failure to react to the staff shaking him around. You guided him outside, the cool air doing him some good as his hand was wrapped haphazardly in white napkins.

“Sorry. About your hand.” You broke the silence, assuming an arbitrary direction as you continued in the path of your apartment. 

He was in his own world. Nay, his own universe. He stopped you as a cool wind blew through the sidewalk, rustling a nearby tree. 

“I don’t understand. I don’t know what I know anymore. I hate you. And you hate me.” 

His face was one of desperation, while yours was one of dismay. He continued.

“When I talk to you- when I see you. I feel the intense-st emotions, most of which I never thought I’d experience. I sweat. Too much. I forget what was on my mind. I look like an absolute moron. And- I never knew what that meant. So it had to be hate. That’s why you treat me the way you do- you laugh and smile and call me an idiot while calling me handsome because you hate me, too.”

He never vomited his soul out like that to anyone. Only a handful of times, really, to his closest friends. You only blinked, before a new expression drew over your features. Your face melted into a smile, to his surprise, as your arms suddenly found their way around his neck. 

“Come inside, Dr. Spengler.”

He woke up the next morning- in your bed as you slept soundly. How he hated you.

[confirmeddead]

My thoughts on the SDCC season 3 Vampire Lestat teaser 🩸

Really excited about the format! I knew they’d switch it up from what we saw in Dubai and this is literally what I was hoping it would be. I think I mentioned it in my season 3 greenlit post that I wanted it to be Daniel interviewing him in various cities as he toured. Lestat is too unpredictable to want to sit and recount his story in such a stale way ala Louis in Dubai.

I *think* this is just a teaser that gives the vibes on what we can expect, I don’t think these are actual clips from the season. This had to have been filmed recently given Sam’s fresh balayage 😂 (I KNEW he’d done it for a reason…) and I DO think filming will begin this year and go into next year.

Daniel being part of the interview was, of course, expected. He was so excited to write a sequel, release vamp sex toys, etc. Of course he said yes to Lestat (I think Lestat went to him because TVL was Lestat wanting to tell his story- so this is all agreed to and on his terms).

The dynamic between Daniel and Lestat will be so fun. Sam said somewhere that of course they’d fight but they’d also get along. Daniel is a wise-cracking, experienced person. He’s been through a lot and I’m sure Lestat will like going back and forth with him.

So no cast reveals! I can’t think when they’ll reveal the big three (Gabrielle, Marius, and Akasha) but I’m hoping it’s not just a press release. These are MAJOR vampire chronicles characters, I need them to be revealed in front of fans! New York Comic Con is in October 2024. While I’d like for them to be filming by then, maybe this could happen right before filming begins? Idk

I won’t pretend to have any idea what they’ll do with Louis 😭 it won’t be anything from the books, of course, because he was barely in TVL.

With how much a fanboy Rolin is for TVL (like, totally valid), I don’t expect a lot of present-day Armand. Of course we will see him in the 18th century! Okay idk why I made this into a theory post but I’ll cut it out.

This teaser was really, really good. TVL was when I started loving Lestat as a character and everything about him (his past, his family) made him make a lot of sense to me. He’s so chaotic and Sam is gonna kill it. If this becomes a Vampire Lestat stan account, don’t say I didn’t warn you (but Armand/Assad will always be my #1 🩷)

[elposting]

SAW THE BOOK OF MORMON ON TOUR LAST NIGHT IN PHILLY!!!

little debrief/review post 😛

Bought these tickets for $30 right after i saw it on west end, was originally going to take my brother but he didn’t want to go so i brought my friend lol (thanks anna i hope you had a good time 😋)

bought the enamel pin set! its now on my updated TBOM/matt stone trey parker shrine lol. I wanted to buy a shirt for when I go in January but they were all so expensive!! does anyone have any like shirts on etsy or redbubble recommendations?

Anyway rest of post below cut! Some photos and videos as always!

- The show was still fantastic as always but I definitely did not have as good a time as i did on west end- my seats were allllll the way back

I kinda felt like i was dreaming through the show, i had to squint to see and the seats were so small and everyone around me smelled like alcohol 😭

- The highlight of the show was absolutely Diego Enrico as elder cunningham. He was so good and so so so fun to watch and he is so cute lol

- i felt like the only characters I could connect to were cunningham, nabulungi, and the doctor/gotswana for some reason?? like they were the only characters that i was really really excited to watch

I know price is the leading man but i feel like I barely saw him- idk if I just was zoning out when he was on stage, he was still amazing, I just felt like this watch around he was more of an accessory to cunningham and his arc than his own independent thing. His most memorable moment in the show for me was end of i believe and his part in I am Africa (and anna’s reaction to that was priceless her mouth was wide open 😭) also the intro to and all of smhd

Also- mckinley- he is usually like one of if not my favorite character and i BARELY got to see him I was trying so hard to pay attention and stay invested but like i was not getting anything i could barely see him 😭 for some reason he did not feel like a main character at all in this performance and I have no idea why (maybe because i was so far away?) i was so sad about it lol- craig was wonderful though and his voice is heavenly and it was not his performance at all

- in the mission hut, instead of the couch, there was just a bunch of old office chairs?? did they change the set or is it just for the touring productions?

- the little golden moroni at the top of the stage didn’t move :(

- on occasion they had the lights go out into the audience and it was really cool/pretty

- fun overhead spotlights!! people who were doing handheld face on spotlights sometimes forgot to turn them on though so sometimes people would just be like… half in the dark

- being so high up i got to see a lot of the blocking and formation I hadn’t seen before, that was really cool. The dances looked great from so up high!! There were even parts of the show I didn’t even know there was dancing I finally got to see so that was cool

- the villagers were the other highlight of this. They were so fun to watch and so funny and I loved them so much. JSAM I think was my favorite part of the show it was so great

- sam (elder price) was like just a tiny tiny bit flat at some parts on occasion? I feel bad for saying this lol. he sounded fantastic most of the time though! His acting and dancing were flawless though, I loved watching him in AAP and SMHD specifically

- there was no mcpriceley in this like AT ALL and I missed the mcpriceley almost kiss AGAIN erghhhh idk how it keeps happening 😭

they were leaning into pricingham a lot and at the end price picked him up and like twirled him around it was really cute lol

- felt like the arnaba chemistry was more platonic than romantic but idk 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

OKOK stage door!!

This was the best part of this whole thing everyone was so nice and I had so much fun

I gave out the tbom themed friendship bracelets I made and they all really liked them 😋😋

they were like all surprised to get them too lol 😭

Me and my BESTIE 💜 diego ENRICO 💜

and me and pookie sam mclellan 😭 I accidentally got sharpie on his hand and flannel I felt so bad

i keep embarrassing myself in front of elder mckinelys bc i gave my orlando bracelet to craig (i was giving them out at random and at that point i wasn’t sure if sam was coming out) and i was like “look it has the fancy charms!” this man just blank stares at me and is like “😀 wow!! 😀 ill take this to orlando with me when we go there in a few weeks! 😀” and then i was like “cool!! some of my friends are going to see you guys in orlando!” and he continues to stare blankly and smile at me until i asked him for a picture. i was dying. pj when i come to new york i promise i will try to have a normal conversation with you 🩷

and ill reblog this with some more pics bc i reached the limit lol

stage dooring was my favorite part, and i am SOOOOO excited for January!!! 😋😋

[zabala0z]

Okay. So. Hi. I’m your host who is rethinking life??? Or just thinking a lot right now, my brain got so much information. I would’ve posted sooner but I needed a couple hours to get my bearings yall ⛹️‍♀️ anyways! The final 4 episodes of TMA s2!!!

I’m not gonna do my usual format but to start with: I knew Elias was a bastard. I knew it, I CALLED IT. I mean it was pretty obvious but I’m just happy I figured it out. Although I’m very destroyed over the fact Sasha is definitely dead. Like I heard Dekker in MAG 78 and even then I was still in denial until Leitner said “yeah no she’s dead”

In MAG 79, I’m mostly pissed at Michael. Like the moment it put Tim and Martin through its creepy ass doors, I was just like full wheezing out of shock. I wheezed a lot today. Michael does not seem to know shit about humans too since it was like “I…I think it’s called a sport”. Love Michael but also stop being so cryptic oh my god. Also Not Sasha was low key horrifying. Like props to Michael and Not!Sashas voice actors because man I have never felt my muscles seize up like I did when hearing them.

Not Sasha mentioned like being sent to the house of its enemy that had the biggest eyes you ever saw. I thought the enemy was the institute but later I found out…no. Oh yeah! Mag 80! What the hell!

Jurgen Leitner being like “yeah my assistants kinda were killed a lot” like okay go supporting boss. I did not predict it was LEITNER who was living in the tunnels. It’s nice he worked with Gertrude though.

Also, these entities. Again, I was vaguely aware of some since their name was thrown around but I didn’t really realize the extent. Jon mentioned Michael and Leitner refers to it as “The Distortion” and that’s its part of “The Spiral”. AND THATS WHERE FRACTALS COME FROM. God.

Also, when Leitner and Elias are talking, Leitner talks about “the Stranger” and Elias asks what they call it which is “The Unknowing”. The last episode, Not Sasha says that Jon will miss the Unknowing but he wouldn’t understand so I’m assuming the replacement things fall under The Stranger

One final thing I noticed was that he mentioned his assistants getting killed on that day of the attack and all the ways they got killed or I dunno attacked, corresponds with different themes from other statements

“Stabbed through the throat by something with too many teeth and weird limbs”- the replacement things (The Stranger)

“Pulled into a cavernous maw that opened beneath her”- I think this is related to The Butchers Window where Jared Hopworth would throw bones down that pit with teeth

“Gregory Todd ran into a door that shouldn’t have been there”- Michael. What are you doing 💀 (The Spiral)

“A great hand reached down through the roof” -I actually don’t know. Thought it was Freefall but misremembered it.

“Pulled into a great, pulsating pile of meat”- literally every episode with a meat theme. (EDIT 9/2/24: this is related to MAG 18 actually!)

“Doors with darkness and doors on fire”- so the cult I think is related to the darkness but with the fire, I know that Burned Out and that statement with Agnes could be related

So I’m guessing every way an assistant like got killed is one of those entities. I know The Vast is somehow related because Michael Crew mentioned that name before throwing himself out the window and then like changing. Guess he’s like a servant now or something?

Oh god that’s most of it. I’m wondering where Jon is now and I hope Tim and Martin don’t like fully believe he murdered a man. Also I swear to god, Elias, if I catch you. Like Leitner was not a super good guy but come on. I’m glad Not Sasha is gone but…my OG girl 😔😔😔

if you got this far in reading me descend down into my little obsession thank you 🫶🫶🫶 like all this is for fun but everyone I talked to in this fandom is so chill and doesn’t try to spoil which is nice. As someone who was in crazy fandoms, this is pretty calm for such a horrifying media. I’ll probably continue these posts for s3 but I’ll try to condense it I swear guys.

[bartxnhood]

sorry’s never enough | c.h

calum hood x fem!reader

summary: you’re betrayed again by your boyfriend, who just can’t seem to keep his promise

warnings: angst, no happy ending, kinda toxic relationship, arguing (it’s a short one)

a/n: surprise ! this is kinda weird for me to post randomly and not tell anyone but i this randomly hit me. also i feel like i should note, i know i’ve written many fics of this scenario and it seems to be a common theme with calum fics but this in no way shape or form represents calum hood as a person. this is strictly fiction and written for entertainment purposes. thank you.

not proofread

requests open

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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you should’ve expected it, from the moment he stepped out the door and got on that plane. you should’ve known better.

he was going to do it, it was only a matter of time before the evidence got back to you. it was just a waiting game for you. would he keep his promise?

no. he doesn’t care.

that morning you woke up, like usual, nothing was out of the ordinary. you got out of bed, made it, and took duke outside to do his business. everything was going normally. until it wasn’t.

you finished breakfast, put away the dirty dishes, and decided to take a scroll on your phone. your boyfriend's tour was coming to an end and it had been one beautiful tour. he seemed to be having the time of his life, and he was even happier it seemed. and it made you feel better about your relationship. you thought, for just a second, that maybe, just maybe, he kept his word.

but when you got the notification from sierra your heart sank. the pictures and the videos of calum at a bar with another girl. his arm slung around her waist as he kisses her, his hand on her jaw. it made you feel sick to your stomach, looking at the photos. sierras message ended with ‘im sorry, hun.’ you felt the tears swelling in your eyes and the aching in your chest had returned.

how could he do this to you?

“hey babe” calum enters the house, walks to you and presses a kiss on your cheek. he noticed you didn’t acknowledge him, so as he was setting his bags down he turned to you. “is everything okay?” you laid your phone down on the counter and slid it over to him. “i don’t know, is it?” you asked, your voice stung like venom. calum looks down at the phone which revealed an article that read: “calum hood spotted with mystery girl at a london nightclub. what happened with his girlfriend? or now, ex-girlfriend’

you saw his expression sour, pushing the phone back towards you. “so?” you asked again. he had no answer, and you saw the gears turning in his head trying to come up with another excuse. “i’m sorry.”

that’s all he had to say? after everything? everything you’ve done for him. all the sacrifices you made just to be with him. that’s all? "don't apologize if you are just going to keep doing this shit, apologize when you're actually going to change because im tired of having my hopes crushed every time" you were livid, your chest burned with anger. even looking at him made your feel sick. calum tan his fingers through his hair, huffing quietly. “if you would ever go on tour with us, this would never happen.” "oh, so i'm the one at fault?" "that's not what i'm saying-" "well, it jolly well sure sounds like it!"

“I don't want to do this with you." "that's what you always say whenever I'm trying to talk some sense into you." you rubbed your temples. talking was him wasn’t always this hard, in the beginning, he was the most caring person but as time went on he grew distant. “i’ve given you my life, calum. i made sacrifices for us to be together. i dropped everything just to be with you, you choose to do this to me? after everything?”

you heard a groan come from his side followed by yet another huff. this wasn’t the first time calum had cheated on you, and you should’ve known it wouldn’t be the last time either but you chose to talk it out and overcome the pain and suffering. you thought it had worked, but obviously, it didn’t. “i never asked you to do anything of that either, y/n. you chose to put your life on hold because of me. i didn’t”

“and you never stopped me!” you yelled, throwing your hands up in the air. “what do you want from me, calum? am i not good enough for you anymore? what am i doing wrong, please just tell me!” by this point, you were starting to break. tears welled in your eyes and your face flushed red. “it isn’t you.” he stated matter-a-factly. you couldn’t help but laugh at his response. “it isn’t me?” you repeated, and once again pushed your phone towards him. “the evidence proves otherwise cal.”

calum knew he was hurting you, he knew he put you through hell and back and that you didn’t deserve it. there was no excuse for what he did to you, he just never wanted to face the truth. “you never change do you, calum? you never fucking change.” you snatched your phone away from the counter, and looked at him one last time. “i’ve had enough, calum. i’m done. i can’t believe i loved you” you pointed in his face, and maybe it came out harsher than expected but at that point, you were so tired.

his eyes shot up at the word ‘loved’ it made his heart stop. surely he heard that wrong, right? “loved?” he asked, following you into the hallway where you were heading but you didn’t respond. you entered the shared bedroom “i’ve been pretending to love you for a long time, calum.” he saw the bags sitting atop the bed. two duffel bags and a large suitcase, “what do you mean?”

a dry chuckle left your throat, “i mean, i’ve been faking it since the first time you done this, i thought for a while that you had changed but obviously you didn’t. and frankly i’m tired of waiting time hoping you’d come around.” you grab a few of the bags ready to head out the door as your friend had texted you that she was on her way. “calum, i did love you. i loved you for years, and maybe we were meant to be together but i can trust you when you go out and get with these other girls. i’m sorry”. you pressed the softest kiss on his cheek.

“don’t come looking for me, just focus on yourself, calum.”

you saw the tears in his eyes, he was guilty and regretful for what he has done to you. “i’m sorry.” you nod, “i know you are.”