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captainsophiestark · 11 months

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Bad Timing

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

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Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day 25 Prompt: "Do I look like I knew that?"

Summary: When Eloise needs help with a problem, she knows she can count on her brother and his new wife for help.

Word Count: 1,047

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"You know, lazy days like this are by far my favorite," I mused, curling into my husband's side as we laid in bed together. "No galas, no gossip from the Ton. Just the two of us."

"I certainly have to agree," said Benedict, my husband, as he traced patterns on the bare skin of my back. "Although, I do enjoy watching Colin wade through the swarm of Mamas every time we go out, now that he is the only unwed Bridgerton son. At least until Gregory gets a bit older."

"I'd say you were being mean, but he did ditch you and Anthony for quite a while in his travels."

"Yes, he did. So he deserves this."

I laughed, shaking my head a bit at my husband's antics. A moment later, he pulled me tighter to his side, rolling us so I laid completely on top of his chest. I rose up on my elbows to meet his eyes and found him looking at me with a mischevious smile.

"You know, it's just occurred to me," he started. "There are quite a few ways I can think of that our time would be better spent than talking about my brother."

"Oh really?" I asked, grinning and leaning down closer to Benedict. "And what might those ideas be?"

"Well for starters..."

With that, he brought his hand up to the back of my neck and pulled me into a searing kiss. I rested all my weight on him, kissing right back, until a knock at the door jarred us both out of the moment.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, and Benedict let me. We shared a look.

"Maybe whoever it is will go away if we ignore them," he whispered in suggestion. As if he'd willed it into happening, a voice from the other side of the door called out.

"Y/N! If you're in there, please, I need to talk to you."

Eloise. Benedict's little sister, who I'd become close with throughout the course of Benedict courting me. I gave Benedict an apologetic look.

"No," he whined as I rolled off of him, quickly wrapping a robe around myself and heading for the door.

"I have to," I replied. "I can't ignore her. Make yourself decent."

With that, I turned from my husband and went to open the door just wide enough to see Eloise on the other side, and for her to see me.

"Oh, thank goodness!" she cried, moving to push past me and into the room. I let her, just hoping that Benedict had done as I'd said. Eloise and I had done this a few times as we'd gotten closer, and whenever it happened, I knew she really, truly needed me.

I turned around to follow Eloise back into the room after shutting the door behind me, only to find her frozen just a few steps from where she'd come in. Benedict stood next to the bed, looking tired but resigned to our new morning activity as he laced up his shirt.

"Good morning, Eloise," he said, a little edge of teasing in his tone. "You know, I was trying to enjoy the morning with my wife-"

"Do I look like I knew that?" she cried. I fought back a laugh as I walked forward to wrap my arm around her shoulder.

"It's alright, Eloise," I said. "Benedict and I were about to get up for the morning, anyway."

Benedict shot me a look with his eyebrows almost into his hairline, and I glared right back, imploring him to go along with me. He cleared his throat.

"Right. That we were. What did you need help with, sister?"

She hesitated, so I walked around to face her, putting both of my hands on her shoulders and blocking her eyeline to Benedict. I gave her a small smile, so she'd know everything was alright, then spoke in a low voice that I knew Benedict wouldn't be able to hear.

"If this is a ladies' problem, or one you don't want your brother to know about, El, I'll throw him out of here right now and we can talk, alright? But if you're embarrassed about knocking when you did, then you truly don't need to be. We love you, and we'd both drop far more important things to help you whenever you need it."

Eloise sighed, nodding a little as she did. The bright red blush that had risen to her cheeks started to fade, and she at last met my eyes again.

"Thank you. I... suppose it wouldn't hurt to have Benedict's input as well," she said. I nodded, giving her a bright smile before turning around to face my husband.

"Put your problem-solving hat on, Benedict," I said. I started drifting for the couches by Benedict's turret window, one of my favorite features of his room. "We've got a family matter to deal with."

They both beamed at me as they started following me over to the couch. I'd considered a few of Benedict's siblings as good as family for a long time now, but it felt amazing to be able to say that and have it be completely true.

Benedict and Eloise settled into the couch on either side of me, Benedict resting his arm across my shoulders. Those kinds of casual touches would've been scandalous before we were married, but now we could do them whenever we wanted to, which also made my heart sing.

Eloise gave us both one last look with a raised eyebrow, then launched into her explanation of the problem that had brought her to our doorstep, which had something to do with a boy of virtually no social status who'd caught her attention. Benedict and I spent the rest of the morning, helping her as best we could, in the way only we could.

Although I hated that Eloise had to deal with the problems she dealt with, a small part of me sang the entire morning as Benedict and I worked together, the perfect team, to help his little sister. This was going to be the rest of our lives, with Eloise and maybe someday with children of our own, and I couldn't be happier thinking about that future with Benedict. We made the perfect team.

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Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

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lovebugism · 11 months

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OK the fall prompt "rainy walks" got me thinking like... what if reader got upset about something and went for a walk and got caught in the rain, and ended up running into Steve who is just out walking and loving the fall gloomy vibe

ty for requesting! — steve runs into his ex while trying to escape a bunch of freaks and finds out you're running from something of your own (exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, tw mentions of toxic relationships, 1.9k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve doesn’t usually smoke. He dropped that habit when he graduated high school and realized he only needed a cigarette when his group of asshole friends were around. He smoked because it felt cool mostly, but also because it felt good to be distracted from his lingering feelings of non-belonging.

Now he’s got people around him who make him feel like he belongs.

It’s too bad they’re all a bunch of freaks.

After being cooped up in the Munson trailer all day, he thinks he’s developed something short of cabin fever. Desperate to get away, he swiped one of Eddie’s cigs and a forgotten zippo before heading out to smoke on the back porch.

He exhales grey smoke from his pink lips. It leaves in invisible wisps beneath heavy storm clouds. He thinks he hears a voice over the muffled sound of Dustin Henderson’s yelling. “Fucking asshole— who do you think you are?” the voice speaks, familiar in a way that makes his stomach ache. “Like, fuck you, dude. You don’t get to talk to me like that. No fucking way.”

He peeks around the corner, and there he finds you — an old ex from a lifetime ago that he hasn’t quite gotten over yet. His chest starts to tighten. He can’t tell if he’s happy to see you or utterly horrified.

You’re still dressed in your pajamas despite it being early afternoon — if an oversized t-shirt that certainly doesn’t belong to you can be counted as pajamas, anyway. It’s a white and red Metallica tee that falls to your knees, slightly frayed at the hem.

It probably belonged to Billy before it belonged to you. If Steve had to guess, you probably stole it like you did all his shirts. He still isn’t sure what came of his favorite Hawkins Tigers sweatshirt.

You come down the road from the Hargrove-Mayfield trailer, looking like you left in a rush. You’re barely dressed and shivering in the cold, walking fast like you’re angry and desperate to get away.

You and Steve broke up a long time ago, but his heart still swells with the familiar urge to protect you.

“Are you okay?” Steve calls to you as he rounds the corner of the Munson trailer.

The crunchinggravel beneath your feet goes quiet when you still. Your head whips toward the sound of the familiar voice, eyes widening when you find Steve there. Your heart starts to race — not because you’ve just run into your ex, but because you’ve run into your ex who you kinda sorta ditched several months ago.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay,” he repeats with a quiet, lopsided grin. He flicks the end of his cigarette with his thumb and tries to meet your gaze. “Sounded like you were giving someone a hell of a talking to.”

Your face flares with embarrassment. You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest — partly to shield from the crisp cold but mostly to comfort yourself. “Yeah. I’m just— I was just talking to myself,” you stammer, flashing a wavering smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m good.”

Steve nods, then squints like he doesn’t believe you. “Okay… Are you sure?”

A laugh tumbles from your mouth. It’s cynical and bitter and utterly forced.

“Yes, Steve. I’m fine,” you assure with a bite to your tone, colder than the grey autumn around you. You smile through it anyway, like you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as him. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. You’re not my boyfriend.”

Steve knows this. He hasn’t been your boyfriend for a while, but something about the way you say it makes his chest ache. He isn’t sure why.

“No, I know,” he nods quickly, shrugging with his brows pinched. “But I’m never gonna, like, not worry about you, you know?”

The empty feeling in your chest starts to warm. Your nails dig crescent shapes into your arms.

“Why?” you murmur.

“I don’t know. Because you were really important to me, I guess— you are really important to me. And that doesn’t just, like… go away,” Steve rambles, shier than you’ve ever seen him. He swipes an anxious hand through his cinnamon locks. The rouge strands hanging over his forehead fall back into place a second later.

Even though your boyfriend forced you not to talk to any of your friends, he wants to say. Even though you’re not mine anymore.

It’s been so long since someone’s been this soft with you. You’re not used to it anymore. You’d much rather him be mean because at least then you’d have a place to put all your anger.

“That’s… That’s nice,” you mutter under your breath like an idiot because you don’t know what else to say.

Steve takes one last puff of his cigarette, if only to distract himself from the awkward silence. He takes a deep breath in and tosses the stick to the gravel, exhaling the smoke as he snuffs out the ash with his sneaker.

“Where were you, uh— Where were you headed?”

“Nowhere. I was just… on my way back home.”

His brows furrow. He doesn’t bother to hide his concern. “Do you have a car?”

“Nope,” you answer with a sigh. “Still don’t have my license, so…”

“Still?”

You nod, scrunching your nose all sheepish. “I know…”

“We used to practice all the time!”

Steve’s golden laugh makes you smile despite yourself. “Honestly, I’m still a little scarred from when I almost hit that deer.”

He nods at the memory, quietly nostalgic and warm with it.

That was on the way to Deep Green Cove, where the two of you were headed to meet his parents at their over-the-top lake house. He let you drive because he knew you’d been wanting to and thought the vacant countryside road would be easiest for you to practice on.

It hadn’t been.

And you did it all for nothing because his parents didn’t even show.

It was a good weekend, though. He can’t believe he forgot about it until now.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I guess,” Steve shrugs with his head tilted to his shoulder. “It took me three days to get you in the car again.”

“I’m pretty sure I cried, like, all night after that.”

“Yeah, my t-shirt still has tear stains on it, actually,” he teases with a boyish chuckle.

Your own giggle sputters from your mouth. You hide it with your palm — like you feel guilty about it. It feels good to laugh, though. To remember that you used to cry over stupid stuff like that and not shit that actually breaks your heart.

A fat raindrop plops cold on your shoulder. You wince. “Oh, fuck— I gotta go.”

“Let me take you,” Steve offers without thinking twice.

You stumble back when he steps towards you, shaking your head to dismiss him. “No. It’s okay.”

“C’mon. Just let me drive you home—”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not letting you walk in the rain.”

“It’ll be okay—”

“You’ll freeze.”

You scoff a bitter laugh. “It’ll be better than what Billy does to me if he finds out I was alone with Steve The Hair Harrington.”

You say it like it’s a joke, and it isn’t, really, but Steve isn’t laughing anyway. His chiseled features twist in concern, like your words have somehow pained him. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you answer, perhaps too quickly, laughing as you shake your head. “It was just— It was a stupid joke. I’m just being dramatic.”

“Are you saying he’ll hit you?” he wonders in a quiet murmur, far too somber than you’d like.

“No— what? No!” you stammer quickly, face as screwed up as his scruffy one. You start to ramble before you realize it. “Billy isn’t like that, okay? He’s just— He’s a fucking baby, and he’s dramatic, and I’d love to go one day without being fucking gaslit. That’s all. I’d rather just freeze on my ten-minute walk back home than have him berate me about hanging out with my ex.”

A few more raindrops fall. Spots of ashy gravel turn to a darker shade of grey.

Steve grows quiet, letting the gentle cadence of water on tin roofs fill the silence. His chest aches all over again. He can’t decide if he’s sad for you or angry at Billy or grieving that he ever let you go in the first place. Maybe a mix of all three.

His hands tremble with the intensity of the swirling emotions, but it’s still in his nature to be soft with you.

“Do you wanna come inside?” he wonders, nodding back towards the trailer.

“To Eddie’s?”

“Yeah.”

“…No,” you answer with the shake of your head, face twisted like the offer offends you. It does, but only because you’re almost sure Eddie hates you now. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. If your best friend chose some asshole over you, you’d hate them too.

“No?”

“I haven’t talked to him in forever— I haven’t talked to any of you in forever.”

“It’s okay,” Steve nods, so gentle it makes you writhe.

“No, it’s not, Steve. I ditched all of you. I was awful to you.”

You don’t want his gentleness. You want him to hate you. You don’t deserve his warmth or the one inside Eddie’s trailer, practically aglow with the laughter of all the friends you left behind. You deserve the isolation. You deserve to stand in the rain and freeze.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, a newfound insistence in his tone like he wants you to really hear him. His bushy brows raise and his honey eyes sparkle, golden even in the grey. “We know why. We know it’s not your fault.”

You falter, swallowing through a closing throat. “You do?”

“Yeah. And we don’t— we don’t blame you for it, okay? For any of it. We miss you, actually.”

The crooked pink grin he flashes should comfort you, but it only makes you shrink inside yourself. “You’re just saying that,” you murmur, disbelieving and dripping with self-loathe.

“Ask Robin if you don’t believe me,” Steve tells you, smiling wider now. “Actually, she was just talking about how making fun of me isn’t as fun without you.”

You don’t want to believe him, but you glow with the faint hope that he’s telling the truth, anyway.

“Really?”

“Really,” the boy nods, then grimaces when the light rain grows suddenly heavier. His brows scrunch as he holds out an arm towards you. “Screw your boyfriend, okay? Just come inside. We can take care of everything else after.”

You want so desperately to take the hand he holds out for you. Your fingers twitch at your side with the longing to hold him, but you don’t let yourself — even though it goes against all your human instincts not to.

You’re made slightly braver than he had said we. “We can take care of that later,” he’d promised, a subtle assurance that you aren’t as alone in all this as you feel. But you often feel like you’re a black hole at times — you don’t want to suck anyone else into the mess you’re in.

“I don’t know…” you waver, teeth threatening to chatter when a breeze makes the rain colder.

“C’mon, before both of us get soaked—” Steve laughs when it starts to rain harder. All the clouds begin to pour at once. You rush to him before you can think twice about it. His palm is warm at the small of your back when he ushers you towards the trailer.

Beneath the high-pitched squeaking of the screen door, you hear Steve mumble behind you. “Dustin’s gonna fucking flip when he sees you.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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lady-ashfade · 5 months

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╰･ﾟ✧☽ I only make fics for readers, y/n's. Please read the rules because I feel bad when you request something and I can’t do it because you haven't read the rules. But I love all of you the same. You can call me ash, or anything you want to really. Also a chubby person runs this account.

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Fictober Calendar/Fics 2024

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╰･ﾟ✧☽ Baldur’s Gate 3

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jarofstyles · 1 year

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FICTOBER DAY 11- Smile

FICTOBER Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

1.3k

Warnings- incubus/succubus, smut, threesome mention/ sex w other people mention, mmf/ffm mention, demons, blood, halloween etc

“It’s never a good thing when you smile like that…” Y/N whispered as she tugged her partner’s arm towards her, eyes narrowed in humorous speculation as she watched his smirk grow. The club was dark and foggy from that god awful fog machine the hired DJ had brought, the scents mixing in the room making her want to plug her nose.

Halloween made it much easier for them to be their authentic selves. Harry and Y/N often had to hide their eyes, curtain them with human presenting ones when they went out to search for trouble. Tonight, Halloween night, had to be the best of the year. Mischief and sex, costumes galore, sin city personified. Their black eyes were assumed contacts, Y/N’s sharp black nails dragging over the front of Harry’s chest. A short black skirt barely covered her thighs and a lacy black corset top was doing little to hide her swirls of black markings down her neck and back. Harry’s were slightly more hidden, but his form always got attention. It’s what made them so good at what they did.

Succubus and Incubus.

“It’s a good thing you love to be bad, isn’t it my love?”

Y/N chuckled, trailing her fingers up his bare skin and catching his jaw, nails digging into the skin as she turned it back towards him. “What’s the point of wearing a shirt if you’re barely going to button it, hm?” She squeezed his face, her own saucy smile rising on her lips. “Who’s caught your eye, darling? Someone pretty that we can feed on?” Her eyes met his, reading that he had done exactly that.

When they normally went on the prowl, they’d take their time- but it was like a buffet tonight. People ready and willing, eyeing both of them up. They were made for pure sexual attraction, humans being drawn to them like a magic spell as their energy infiltrated a space. To be chosen by both of them? The human would have stories for days. Being in a threesome with two of the best looking people they’d ever seen, bragging rights for days. They wouldn’t miss the blood that either of them took, nor would they mind their sexual energy being feasted on. For humans, it was a magical experience. No loss, no hurt, only one of the most pleasurable and euphoric experiences of their lives. The haze would follow them for days and they’d feel their touches for weeks on end, but it wasn’t harmful. Wistful, perhaps.

The only drawback? No one would ever compare.

They’d search the world for a human who’s cock was able to press right into that spot like Harry’s had, someone’s tongue that swirled around their most sensitive bit the way Y/N’s did, desperate for a taste of either of them, but they wouldn’t. Not unless they came about another of their kind.

Their routine varied, as Harry claimed that ‘Variety is the spice of the afterlife’. Sometimes her chose, sometimes she did. It wasn’t like there was a lack of interested participants who approached them either. But Halloween was a night that all sorts of guidelines were lifted, and their rule for only having one encounter a day was lifted. With the ability to keep the spread of diseases, they didn’t have to wait to leave from one club to another, working on their third now. The high was lifting them up, their first two playmates safely tucked in cabs to get back home and surely sleeping off the exhaustion they had given them.

“Show me, H. I chose last time, so it’s your turn now.” She watched his eyes flutter shut as she dragged her nails back down his throat to rest at his chest, a subtle growl leaving his throat. He loved pain, loved her nails, and his one and only soul mate. The sex with others was fun and games, a way to provide energy, but his real lifeforce was loving his sweet goddess. No one would ever compare to her, to the way she made him feel both inside and out of the bedroom.

There was a difference between fucking for fun and for their needs, versus the love they made to one another. Their lovemaking varied between soft, soppy morning sex to bloody, rough, primal sex. There was no doubting what they preferred, and it was always each other. His arm wrapped around her waist, swinging her swiftly in front of him as he dipped his face to press cheek to cheek. “The one in the little devil costume.” He murmured, brushing his cock against her ass. “We did an angel earlier, but I’d like to see what the little devil has in store. Bet it’ll be a lot of fun, don’t you think?” He brushed his lips against her cheek, pecking it lightly. “Messy girl. Still have a bit of blood on you.” Swiftly, his tongue licked against the corner of her lips and hummed before tightening his grip on her. “We’re only halfway through the night. Already getting messy for me?” He clicked his tongue at her, feeling her eye roll despite knowing her arousal was at the top.

“It’s the one day we can be. I can get blood all over my outfit and no one will blink an eye, think m’just a sexy creature.” She laughed, turning in his strong arms to peer up at him. “You know how much I love a mess, but you’re worse than me, aren’t you?” Her thumb was gentle now, brushing his bottom lip. It was still swollen and some of her lipstick stained them a cherry red, enhancing his pale skin even more. His clean shaven jaw was sharp as a tack and his white teeth tried to nip at the pad of her thumb playfully, but she was too quick. Her man was too handsome for his own good. “Mm… I know you love to bury your tongue in holes, any of them, and get all wet.” She had seen it firsthand just 30 minutes ago, the woman writhing under them as Y/N sat pretty on her face and watched Harry lose himself in the taste of their new friend. “I can still smell that girl on you. She was a fun one, wasn’t she? Had to revoke those wings as soon as you touched her.” She purred, wrapping an arm over his neck. “And you love when they choke on your cock. The other boy I chose did such a nice job taking you into his throat, hm? Amazed him a little with how much you can cum… All over his face, and his ass too. So don’t tease when you’re just as bad as me.” Her voice floated to him, making him groan. His cock was against her tummy this time, perpetually hard and her words only made it worse. “And if you want to take care of the hard time you’re currently having, throbbing against me, you better go pick up our playmate and bring them back to me.” Her hand slipped rom his neck, dow between them and cupping his erection.

His cock was her favorite and alway would be. Perfectly thick and curved, she’d never met a person who didn’t like it, but to her it was perfection. Her prized possession. Having a soulbond with someone who pressed right where she needed, that filled her up to the brim and fucked her good enough to have her growling was all she needed. Leaning up, her lips pressed against his own with a soft ‘pop’ as she pulled away, not getting too carried away yet. “Go on, pretty boy. Since you know how much I love to be bad… get us a slice of our trouble for the night. We’ve got so many more friends to meet.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #Harry styles Halloween #Harry styles incubus #Harry styles succubus #demon harry styles #harry styles smut imagine #jarofstyles fictober 2023 #jarofstyles fictober

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marvelslut16 · 1 year

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The Incident

Prompt number: 14 "If you don't stop now-"

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Swearing. Cannon typical gore- but not too detailed. Insecure reader. Mean Steve. Nightmares. Demodogs. Embarrassing parents.

A/N: This bad boy has been sitting in my drafts for over a year now, I'm so glad I found the motivation to finish it and post it for Fictober!

You’re leaned up against the counter at family video as Steve complains for what feels like the thousandth time about how much he misses Nancy. You roll your eyes at Robin who’s standing behind the counter as Steve’s voice carries over the shelves of the empty store. The entire time you’ve known Steve he’s been obsessed with Nancy, and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. She’s not that special and she clearly doesn’t love him.

“You’re such a masochist,” you sigh when he comes back to the counter to get more VHS’ to put away.

“A what?” his voice is hard, he’s confused by the word but he knows the implication is insulting.

“A masochist, it means you like pain and humiliation,” Steve is glaring at you, and not a playful one you're used to, this one is full of hatred. You know you should stop, especially with the look he’s giving you, but your mouth has a mind of its own and it just keeps talking. “I mean seriously, that's the only reason I can think of that you’re still acting like this. Nancy’s with Jonathan, she’s in love with him. Hence why she’s visiting him in California over break right now. She’s also told me that she doesn’t want kids and you’ve said more than once that you want your own little basketball team, you two will never work out. I don’t mean to be rude or mean in any way, I just don’t want you to keep hurting yourself over someone who isn’t into you.”

“I don’t know why you think I’d take relationship advice from someone who’s never been in one. You were a nobody before I met you, and let’s face it, you’re still a nobody now,” you can feel tears welling up at his words, but you refuse to cry in front of him, refuse to give him the satisfaction of your tears. It hurts so much because he’s voicing your inner fears, he must not be lying if he feels how you imagined he must be feeling. “The only reason you have friends is because you clung to us after the whole demodog incident, you didn’t give us a choice.”

“Steve!” Robin jumps in, seeing the hurt on your face and the tears in your eyes. She knows Steve is only lashing out because you’re right and he doesn’t want to admit it, but she can also tell that he’s about to lose your friendship. “If you don’t stop now-”

“It’s fine Robin,” you can’t muster a voice louder than a whisper. “Steve’s right, I have no room to talk. My break at the arcade is almost over, so I better get going.”

You spend the rest of your shift behind the counter as silent tears slip down your cheeks. Steve’s words replaying in your head over and over again, your heart fracturing more and more each time. You’re disappointed, but not surprised, when Steve doesn’t stop in to check on you and apologize when his shift is over. You know Robin would have stopped in to talk, had Steve not been driving her home after work.

The next few days are a blur of tears and work. You don’t go over to family video once, and he doesn’t come to the arcade. Robin calls you every night to try and get you to open up about your feelings, but you never do. You wish she would just let it go and let you go back to not having friends, just like Steve said. And when the party, minus Mike- who’s still in California, come into the arcade and you hope they won’t notice you.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Dustin spots you almost instantly, you sigh at the promise of his meddling. “Are we still on for movie night this weekend? Forcing Steve to watch the best trilogy known to man?”

“I can’t this weekend Dustin,” your heart hurts a little when the boy's excited grin turns into a frown. But you have to remind yourself that none of them actually care for you, they only include you in things because you’ve forced yourself on them.

“Okay, when are you free next week?” he tries to reschedule, but you won’t fall for his caring act.

“I’m not, school starts back up next week and I won’t have time between that and work to have a movie night. You two have it without me, you’ll probably have more fun anyway.”

Dustin walks away confused and dejected, but there isn’t much else for you to say. It’s awkward the rest of your shift, the party spending all day there, where they throw glances your way the whole time. As if your day couldn’t get any worse, when your mom picks you up from work, she wants to go to Family Video and rent a movie for family night this weekend.

“So you’re Steve and Robin?” your mom asks, setting Back To The Future on the counter. It took her twenty long minutes to decide on a movie that she’s already rented, twice.

“Yes ma’am,” Robin answers, using her professional voice. You take small steps back, seeing the writing on the wall, you desperately want to get out of there before she can continue.

“Well I’ll be,” your mom lets out a little laugh. “When my (Y/N) said she was friends with the Robin and Steve that work here, I never would have guessed she meant Steve Harrington, former star of the Hawkins basketball and Swim teams.”

“(Y/N/N) is great,” Steve says awkwardly, like he’s trying to force something nice about you out. “We’ve been friends for a few years now.”

“Mom, can we go now?” you practically beg, wanting nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“C’mon sweetie, I’m just trying to meet your friends,” she turns back to the two behind the counter. “She just goes on and on about you two, all good things of course! I’m just so happy she’s made such good friends.”

“Okay mom,” you whine, taking another step back. “You’ve embarrassed me enough, let's just hurry up and rent the movie.”

Thankfully, Robin takes pity on you and quickly starts ringing your mother up, but not without trying to upsell her some candy because it will give her a commission. Your mom finally settles on buying some Sno Caps, and you can practically taste sweet freedom as she hands Robin some cash. But Steve ruins that when he opens his big fat- gorgeous- mouth.

“(Y/N/N), we finally got Fright Night in, if you still want to rent it,” you wrinkle your nose, it was a movie you were supposed to watch with him and Robin, far far away from your parents.

“That horror movie?” your mom asks in disgust, giving you an obvious look of disappointment. “She’s not allowed to watch horror movies, especially not with all of her nightmares!”

“Mom, please,” you mutter, trying to pull her away from the counter, away from Steve, and out of the damn store.

“Nightmares?” Steve asks, his face instantly softening. “You’ve never told me about your nightmares.”

“She wakes up screaming about some stupid dogs,” your mother tells him, and your eyes well up with tears of embarrassment. “It’s every single night.”

Steve’s words from earlier this week play in your head on repeat ‘you clung to us after the demodog incident, you didn’t give us a choice.’ It feels like all of the air is being sucked out of your lungs as your mom reveals your deepest darkest secret- one she’ll never understand. She’ll never understand what it was like that day, wandering through the woods when all of a sudden this dog-like creature with a cone head is standing in front of you and its face opening like a deadly flower. She’ll never know what it was like being knocked off her feet when that thing jumped on her and only being saved at the very last minute when the King of Hawkins himself whacked that thing off with a nailed bat. She’ll never know what it was like to be that close to death, that close to just being another Barb, disappearing without a trace.

Of course it haunts you, it was a near death experience, and you certainly can’t talk to a professional about it. No one would believe you, and they would probably lock you up in some mental institution if you ever muttered a word of it. You do your best to forget it day in and day out, but every time night rolls around you always remember every single detail; like how hot the demodogs breath was, or how many rows of teeth it had, how heavy it was on top of you.

“I’m gonna go now,” you hold back the tears as you race out the movie store’s front door. You can feel the burning gazes of both Steve and Robin on your retreating figure, but you can’t be by them. You can’t explain this to them. You’re going to have to move within the next day or two so you don’t have to face them ever again.

The ride home from the movie store is dead silent, not even an apology from your mother for telling your friends about your nightmares. All you get from her are side eyes and glares, you can tell she’s silent seething because you were planning to disobey her and watch a horror movie. What she doesn’t understand is that horror movies help, the fake gore and the illogical plots somehow comfort you and make you feel better about what you’ve gone through.

You go straight to your room, forgoing dinner to just sob into your pillow. Not only have you lost your friends, but now they know just how pathetic you truly are. All you have are nightmare after nightmare, waking up screaming and crying more times than you can count. This time Steve doesn’t come to rescue you, he just stares from the sidelines with that same glare he gave you the day of the fight, and no one else tries to step in and help you. You’re all alone.

No matter how bad of a night you had, or how much you begged to stay home from work, your mother forced you to go. She drives you there and waits outside until you go in, you can see through the windows that she waited a whole five minutes before leaving so you can’t sneak out. The drive over she was going on and on about responsibility and being an adult, and how you can’t just bail on your duties because you had one bad night. You would’ve come to work today no problem, tired but with no complaints, if the Arcade wasn’t right next to Family Video. Right next to Steve.

Most of your day goes smoothly, just rowdy preteens playing the twenty arcade games you have squished in there, nothing horrible happening. That is until around two in the afternoon when the door jingles and your eyes zero in on that unmistakable hair in the doorway. You contemplate running and hiding in the back room, but losing your job for leaving the floor unmanned is the last thing you want or need to add to the very large load of crap your life is becoming.

Even if you had decided to hide in the back room, Steve is in front of you at the counter quicker than you could have hid. You refuse to look him in the eye, instead looking at the shiny nametag glinting in the few overhead lights. He stares at you for what feels like forever before finally sighing and then talking.

“Why didn’t you tell me you have nightmares?” he cuts right to the chase,, his voice is monotonous and you can’t tell if he’s trying to sympathize with you or come off condescending.

“We all have our secrets,” you sneer, not understanding why he’s being nice to you all of a sudden. “It’s not like you care, so just drop it.”

“You don’t mean that-” you cut him off with a glare, finally looking into his puppy dog eyes. The ones you used to melt in every time he looked at you.

“Like hell I don’t!” you whisper harshly, not trying to draw attention from the kids in the Arcade. “You don’t care. Steve. So for both of our sakes, please stop pretending like you do. What I said the other day was harsh, but I meant it from a place of love and caring. What you said the other day was a low blow and said to hurt me. Let’s just go back to how things used to be, neither of us acknowledging that the other exists.”

You turn to go hide in the back room, job security be damned, you just need to get away from Steve. He can’t see you cry over him, you refuse to let him. But his hand catches your wrist, spinning you around to face him again.

“I do care about you (Y/N), and I didn’t mean what I said,” he grips your hand harder, pulling you closer to the class case that divides you. “I was embarrassed because you were right, you always are, and I wasn’t ready to hear it. If I could go back and keep myself from saying those things, I would do it in a heartbeat!”

“Your life will be just fine without me, and soon enough you’ll just forget about me, I’ll just be that girl you see around town, the one you used to know.”

“No it won’t, don’t say that!” Steve cups your face, making sure you make eye contact with him before continuing. “Life without you would suck, it would be so boring. What would I do without that adorable little giggle you make when I tell a horrible joke? Or the way you ramble excitedly about the things you love? Or the cute way you scrunch your nose when you're confused or embarrassed? What would I do without your goodnight calls and our coordinated lunch breaks? How would I survive without you lighting up every single room you walk in? Without you lighting up my life? You’re everything to me (Y/N), and I’m sorry it took me losing you to realize it. And if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to you for what I said and doing my best to scare away those nightmares.”

“Do you really mean that?” you sniffle, a single tear falling from your eye.

“I do, I mean it,” Steve says with so much conviction as he wipes the tear from your cheek. “I love you. Not Nancy, you. It’ll always be you.”

“I love you too, I always have,” your wet laugh is cut off by a searing kiss.

#fictober23 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things one shot #steve harrington one shot

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reluctant-mandalore · 1 year

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🍂 Fictober 🍂 Day 1: Cold Weather (Din Djarin x gn!Reader)

During the chilly fall season on a new planet, you go on an afternoon outing with the Mandalorian and his son. Though of course you forgot your coat.

Warnings: Fluff, found family, crushes, pre-relationship, little bit of flirting, not beta read Word Count: 1771 Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader a/n: I slept for most of the first day and then my back was achy when I was trying to edit this. So its late. But it's here. And thats all that matters. Enjoy a fall afternoon outing with our fave clan of two. Day 2's prompt should be out later today (hopefully lmao).

“Grogu, we’ve been over this, you need to wear your coat.”

The child had huffed at the Mandalorian’s words. His large ears lowering, as he frowned and shook his head. You had watched them be trapped in this standoff for quite some time now. Neither father nor son wanted to budge. It was starting to get colder on this planet in recent days. But despite the chill—and despite his fathers lecturing—the little one had been determined to take his coat off any chance he got.

This had been his third time taking off the coat while hoping that neither of you would notice. Din had always been overprotective though, and he had been even more observant. He always had a keen eye for noticing these things, and there was nothing the child—or you—could seem to get past him.

“It’s getting colder out, and I don’t want you getting sick.” Din had tried reasoning with him. “You don’t want to get sick. Right kid?”

Grogu had huffed again. He pouted up to his father before trying to look past him over to you sitting on the bench nearby. Clearly he hoped to rally in your support to his losing battle, and most days those wide pleading eyes of his would convince you to his side in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for the child though, today you found yourself agreeing with the Mandalorian. As you had also caught yourself wishing you had remembered to bring your own coat this chilly afternoon.

Discovering that you wouldn’t be helping him, Grogu had huffed one more time, before finally allowing Din to bundle him back in the coat. The pout he wore as his father buttoned him up making you want to chuckle.

“See? It’s not so bad.” Din had patted the little one’s head after he finished with the last button. Although Grogu only sent a frown back his way, before toddling off back to the leaf pile he was playing in earlier.

The Mandalorian had watched Grogu from where he kneeled for a moment. Though soon he had stood to come back and sit next to you on the bench. He had given you a small nod as he sat, and you had returned it with your own smile. A comfortable silence had fallen between you two then, as you watched the child explore and play in the little clearing. Despite not being pleased with the coat he wore, Grogu still seemed to be enjoying himself at least. He had been throwing leaves here and there. Giggling and laughing to himself as he did so.

“I don’t understand why he doesn’t want to wear it.” After some time Din had been the first to speak, as he shifted a bit awkwardly next to you. “He was so happy picking it out in the market a few days ago, but now he wants nothing to do with it.”

You gave him a shrug. “He’s probably just not used to it—that’s all—give him some time.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, sometimes kids are just picky with these things.” You said smiling again as you watched the child chase down a frog, struggling to keep up in his puffy jacket. “He’ll get used to it eventually.”

Din had let out a bitter sigh, but you could hear the smile in his words. “Yeah you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

He had snorted at that reply, and quickly the two of you fell back into silence. The only sound once again being that of the child's happy geal and the birds singing their sweet tunes. Another breeze had swept through, rustling the leaves and sending an icy chill to roll down your spine. Once again you had found yourself wishing you hadn’t forgotten your own coat, as you shivered and shuddered with every gust of wind that passed.

“Cold?” Din’s question had nearly made you jump, and you looked over to find him looking at you with a tilt of his helmet.

“A little.” You admitted with another shiver, now feeling a bit embarrassed while under the Mandalorian’s gaze. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this cold when we left earlier.”

He had hummed in understanding and went back to watching the child for a moment. You went back to doing so as well. Thinking that had been the end of the discussion, though soon the heavy weight that rested over your shoulders proved otherwise. The cape—his cape—that he tucked around your shivering form had enveloped you in an instant warmth. The cozy fabric making itself the perfect barrier for you from cold.

No wonder he wore this thing all the time—it was stylish and warm.

“There.” He murmured in a hushed tone, as he smoothed out some of the wrinkles in the fabric, and adjusted it around you a little more snuggly. “That should help you stay warm.”

“Thank you.” Your voice had struggled to speak, as you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow shy.

Din had been so close to you as he fixed the cape. His leg had brushed with yours at every movement, and if it weren’t for the helmet that shielded his face, you would have felt how his breath fanned your cheeks. He hadn’t seemed to realize it though until the two of you shared a glance. Your eyes locked to one another, and mere inches apart. Only then did he seem to catch himself. Clearing his throat as he pulled away and averted his gaze. A mumbled apology quickly leaving him as he did.

“Keep it till we get back.” He didn’t dare look at you as he spoke, crossing his arms over his chest awkwardly. Although you couldn’t help but notice how his leg still seemed to brush with yours every now and then. “I don’t need you getting sick either.”

You only nodded. Smiling to yourself a little, and snuggling further into the cape. Your heart feeling like it would jump out of your chest at any moment.

“You know…” He continued quietly, his voice trailing and words a bit teasing, as he had looked at you from the corner of his eye with the tilt of his helmet. “You’re just like the kid with not wanting to wear a coat.”

You gave a little laugh at his words, unable to deny his claim. “Guess I’m a bad influence then, huh?”

“No. I wouldn’t say that.” He shook his head while giving a small chuckle himself, and glancing away from you to watch the child again. “I’d say the opposite actually. You’re a great influence on the kid.”

“You think so?”

“Of course! He adores you…” Din had almost seemed to pause in thought before allowing himself to finish. “We both adore you. Things wouldn’t be the same without you around.”

There was another flutter in your chest at his words, and suddenly it wasn’t just the cape that gave you warmth. The two of you had looked to one another, unable to stop yourselves from leaning closer, as the air between you had seemed to shift. It had been hard to deny the feelings that both of you were beginning to feel for one another lately. And moments like these had only seemed to make it even harder.

“Patuu!”

The sound from Grogu had broken you both from the trance, and you both looked to find him standing before you two now. The smile he wore bright, as he held out his hands for you to see what he had found. It had been acorns—of course—the child had been fascinated with them since arriving to this planet.

“Oh! Is this for me?” The child had beamed up at you at the question when you realized he held one out to you, and with a smile you took the acorn. “What a lovely little acorn! Thank you Grogu.”

Grogu had let out a happy noise at your acceptance of his gift. His eyes bright with excitement as he watched you look over the acorn. Pleased with seeing your approval, he glanced at the other acorn still in his hand, and then looked to the Mandalorian at your side.

“Do I get one too?” Din seemed to perk up, but any hope he had died quickly as Grogu soon sent a glare his way at the question, before turning to waddle rather grumpily away back to his leaf pile.

“I think he’s still mad about the coat.” You barely managed to stop the laugh that threatened to spill from your lips at the sight.

“Yeah.” The Mandalorian almost sounded like he had been pouting, and based on how his shoulders had sunk you wouldn’t put him past it. “I guess he is”

“Oh don’t worry Din.” You patted his shoulder gently. Trying to reassure him.“He’ll forgive you soon.”

“He can be pretty stubborn.” He mumbled back. Sounding utterly defeated.

You gave a teasing hum. Nudging him with your arm a little. “He’s just like his dad then.”

“I’m not stubborn.” He had tried to argue, but any defense he had fell quickly at the look you sent his way. “I’m only stubborn when I need to be.”

The two of you shared another small laugh at that before falling back into that familiar silence and watching over the child play. The three of you would spend the rest of the afternoon out there. Only leaving when Din would finally decide it had been time to pack up, and head back to the ships. Grogu had almost fought with him over it, but unlike with the coat, he had quickly been won over with the promise of food.

Though it wouldn’t be until the next day where the little one would finally seem to have forgiven his father. This time when you three went to leave for the afternoon outing he did not fight the Mandalorian over the coat. Instead he let his father bundle him up with little complaint. Babbling in bits of gibberish, and pulling out the acorn he had found the other day. Handing it to Din with a bright smile before immediately waddling off in the direction of the clearing.

“See, Din?” You smiled at him, as you both began walking to follow behind the child. “I told you he’d forgive you.”

He had looked over the acorn. The smile he wore hidden behind the helmet. “Yeah, you were right.”

“I usually am.” You had gone to laugh, but an icy breeze had swept through as you spoke, and instead you could only seem to shiver while Din had chuckled.

Of course you had forgotten your coat again.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfic #my fics #reader fic #cy's fictober 2023 #mandalorian fanfic #fanfic #fictober #fictober2023

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allzelemonz · 1 year

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Big, Not Dumb: Bill Williamson X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 2, Compliments Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Language Warnings: Referenced bullying, referenced crime, fluff, comfort, kisses, cuddling, bashful Bill, use of Bill’s birth name Summary: You get back to camp to find Bill in a bad mood, that simply will not do.

You can see it from across camp. You’ve just come back from a job with Charles and John, nothing exciting. It was your plan to take a few moments with your horse, give them some sugar cubes and pats for riding well done, but seeing the look on Bill’s face changes that rather quickly. You press a few treats into Kieran’s hands with a small nod and make your way over to the grumbling bear of a man. He’s already downed a beer, the bottle sitting at his feet, and he has another in his hand.

“You alright, Bill?” You ask, keeping your voice soft.

“‘m fine.” He mutters.

His gaze is fixed on the fire so you step in front of him.

“What?” Bill growls, staring up at you. “A man can’t have a drink in peace ‘round here?”

You hold your hand out to him. “Come with me, sweetheart.”

His cheeks turn rosy at the pet name and he grumbles to himself, but he takes your hand. You guide him through camp as he chugs the last of his beer and throws the bottle on the ground. The tent flaps are open but you close them after Bill ducks inside. He automatically settles on the two bedrolls that sit right next to each other and fixes his eyes on the ground.

“You wanna tell me what that face is about?” You ask gently, sitting next to him and putting an arm around his waist.

“It ain’t nothing.” He mumbles.

“Bullshit, Marion.”

“Quit it.”

“I’m serious.” You say, your free hand reaching for his and holding it against his thigh. “You know I don’t like seeing you upset.”

He’s quiet for a moment. Expressing himself, being open about his actual feelings, is straining and you don’t blame him. Keeping everything bottled up for his whole life and suddenly having a caring boyfriend that is sweet and understanding is a big adjustment. But you’re patient, happy to hold him and press kisses to his flannel clad shoulder as he thinks about what he wants to say.

“They was callin’ me dumb again.”

You tighten your arm around his waist, pulling him into you a little more. “You’re not dumb, Bill.”

“Course I-”

“Shut up.” You warn. “You are smart in your own way, Marion.”

“I ain’t smart!” Bill snaps. “I’m big an’ dumb, I’m a drunk, can’t even wire up dynamite when the whole damn gang’s countin’ on it-”

“Bill.” You say softly but sternly. “Shut. Up.”

“I ain’t smart.”

“You’re big, sure, but that’s not a bad thing. Widely handsome, in my opinion.”

His cheeks dust pink again. “Shut up.”

You pull him down with you, your arms automatically wrapping around him in the way you know makes him feel the safest. The large man snuggles into you, always enjoying being held despite what he might say.

“You made a mistake, but it hasn’t happened since.” You say, pressing a kiss to his head. “No one could ever hold a candle to your know-how on anything explosive.”

“I ain’t-”

“Stop.” You say, tugging him closer. “You are damn good at what you do, Marion. I love you for everything. Mistakes and imperfections, everything.”

For a moment he simply stills, then his arms timidly wrap around you. “Love ya too.”

You press another kiss to his head. “You are impossibly perfect in my eyes, sweetheart.”

“Quit it.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

“No.” You smile. “You’re so incredibly attractive and strong and funny-”

“I get it, alright?” He sighs. “I get it.”

“You just wanna cuddle, don’t you?”

He only holds you tighter. You return the pressure, nuzzling against his cheek and feeling the rare softness of a freshly washed beard.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #bill williamson #bill williamson x reader #bill williamson x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #fictober

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atths--twice · 1 year

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Rediscovering the Thrill

What may have happened while they were staying at The Falls when Mulder left the bedroom telling Scully that the thrill was gone.

Fictober day 4 prompt 9: I wouldn't do that if I were you.

The thrill is gone.

The words Mulder had said when he left the room kept repeating in her ears as she straightened up while she waited for her face mask to dry.

The thrill is gone.

How could it be gone when it had never even started? At least not in the way he was implying. Not how Rob would mean it if he was speaking to Laura.

She knew he was teasing her, acting the part of a hurt husband, but still…

Picking up his shoes, she placed them on a shelf in the closet. Seeing his sweatshirt had been left on the bed, she sighed as she snatched it up to hang it in the closet.

The thrill is gone.

Is that what he wants? she wondered, placing the sweatshirt on the hanger. A thrill? Something that isn’t who we are? Does he want to be someone else? For me to be someone else? Or is it our thrill that’s gone?

“Hey, Scully,” Mulder said, poking his head around the corner.

“Jesus Christ, Mulder,” she said, dropping his sweatshirt and looking at him in exasperation.

“Sorry,” he said, tapping his fingers against the doorjamb. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yeah, well,” she huffed, picking up the sweatshirt and hanging it with a bit more force than was needed. “Did you need something?”

“It’s still early,” he said rather sheepishly and she raised her eyebrows, waiting. “I know I won’t be sleeping anytime soon. You wanna watch a movie or something?”

She stared at him, crossing her arms and drawing in a breath.

“You don’t have to, but-”

“No, I…” she said with a quick nod. “I will.”

“I mean I don’t know what’s on, but…”

“It’s still early,” she finished and he nodded, tapping his fingers on the doorjamb again. “Maybe we could see what’s inside that gigantic basket Pat gave us.” He grinned and she attempted to smile back, but her skin felt tight. She touched her face and nodded. “You go open it, I’ll wash this off and join you.”

“You got it, Mrs. Petrie.”

“Shut up,” she said, pushing him out of her way as she walked to the bathroom. She heard him laughing as he left the room and she smiled slightly.

Ten minutes later, she walked into the kitchen to find the contents of the entire basket laid on the counter as Mulder looked at it dubiously.

“Nothing good?” she asked and he sighed.

“I don’t know. It’s all so… frou frou-y.”

“Frou frou?” she teased.

“Yeah. They’re not brands I recognize. Look at this one, what’s that name? I can’t make it out. Solare’s? Sss… Salane’s? I can’t tell.”

“They’re crackers,” she said, looking at the box and then at him. “Take them, the salami, and that cheese and I’ll grab a knife and a plate.”

“The wine too, or no?” he asked and she shook her head with a slight frown.

“No, the wine at dinner made me feel… I don’t know. I don’t want any. But you go ahead if you want.”

“Nah. It’s not exactly my first choice, especially this one from… Zairess? Seriously, what is this? Where did Pat get these things?”

“Probably some hoity toity shop somewhere. Gotta keep up with those appearances, right?” she asked as she opened cupboards and drawers searching for what she needed.

“I would hate to live in a place like this,” he said and she snorted. “No shit,” she said, rolling her eyes. Shaking her head, she finally found what she was looking for and grabbed a large plate and a sharp knife.

“But you wouldn’t mind it.”

“Living somewhere where neighbors help each other out? That’s not so bad.”

“But dinners at their house? Tuna casserole dinners, Scully? ZZ Top wine?” He gestured to the bottle he had put back into the basket and she laughed. “From the finest little shop in San Diego, but still…” His eyes widened and he stepped backward out of the kitchen as she followed.

“At least the tuna was dolphin safe,” she deadpanned and he grunted.

“Not as safe in my stomach. It definitely did not agree with me.”

“Proper food can have that effect on a body used to only eating takeout and microwave dinners.”

“Are you knocking my frozen meatloaf meals, Scully? How can you when it’s made for hungry men like me?”

She laughed again as they sat down on the couch and she set the plate and knife on the coffee table. He added the salami and cheese, opening the box of crackers and then the bag inside. Placing some on the plate, he picked one up and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

“Not terrible,” he stated, chewing again. “But definitely dry. I’ll go get us some water.”

“Hmm,” she hummed with a nod as she opened the salami and began slicing pieces of it and laying them beside the crackers.

Mulder came back and snatched a piece as he set the glasses of ice water on the coffee table.

“Hmm. That’s good. Zany Tony makes a good salami.”

Scully laughed as she opened the cheese and started slicing it.

“Who makes this cheese?”

“It said Wandering Willows Farm on the package.”

“The fuck it did,” he laughed, reaching for the wrapper and looking at it. “Tira’s Cheese. Tira.” He looked at her and shook his head as he dropped it back onto the coffee table. “Your name was better.”

“If I ever decide to throw all this away,” she said, waving the knife to indicate the room at large. “I’ll become a cheese maker and call it Wandering Willows, just for you.”

“It’s a solid plan. People do love cheese.” He tried to take a slice, but she stopped him by blocking his hand.

“I have a sharp knife in my hand. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“But, Scullyyyy,” he whined. “Tuna casserole.” She shook her head and snorted out a laugh. “With white wine, need I remind you.”

“No,” she said with a shiver. “You don’t need to remind me. I think Tira’s vineyard made that wine too.”

“Ha!” he exclaimed, bumping her with his shoulder and laughing quietly. “Cheese and wine. You’ll have some stiff competition at ol’ Wandering Willows.”

“I can take her,” she said, finishing with the cheese and setting the knife down.

Picking up two slices of cheese, she handed him one. They nodded as they tried it, watching each other as they chewed.

“It’s… cheese,” he stated and she nodded in agreement. “It’s not bad.”

“But it’s not great.”

“Better than tuna casserole.”

“Hell yes it is,” she said, reaching for another piece as well as a cracker and a piece of salami. “Let’s see how all three are together.”

He prepared a cracker for himself and they nodded once again as they took a bite.

“Oh, that’s good. Much better as a combo,” he said, shoving the rest of it into his mouth.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Much better.”

“Does it need mustard? I think there’s a jar of Zoreli’s in that basket. Or Tortoroni’s Tangy Mustard.”

“Is it Zoreli’s and Sons? Because I really prefer that brand over just Zoreli’s.”

He laughed as he began stacking the salami and cheese onto another cracker and she smiled as she did the same.

“Wandering Willows will have to speak to the Zoreli’s about an exclusive deal to work with them.”

“It’s in the bag. One of my employees is sleeping with the boss of the Zoreli family. They made an offer they couldn’t refuse,” she said in her best Brando voice and he choked on his cracker when he started laughing.

He reached for his glass of water, choking and sputtering, as she thumped him on his back and chuckled softly.

“Scully,” he said in a strained voice after he had taken a few large drinks, shaking his head and coughing as he laughed again.

“You want into the Willows… you’re then in until you die.”

“Or you’re given a pair of cement shoes,” he said with another cough.

“Meh…” she said with a shrug. “You gotta protect the family.”

“I never knew the cheese/wine/mustard business had such a dark side.”

“Why do you think you don’t recognize the brands we’re eating tonight? The others…” She ran her thumb slowly across her throat and his eyes widened. “We don’t play at the Willows.”

He smiled slowly, shaking his head as he stared at her. She smiled back and then looked at the television.

“Are we still going to watch a movie?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling as he set his glass down and reached for the remote. “Yeah, we are.”

He flipped through the channels until he landed on something, glancing at her for her approval. She nodded, not really caring what they watched. He set the remote down and made up another cracker to eat.

They watched the movie in near silence, eating their snack and drinking their water.

But every once in a while, he glanced at her and shook his head as he laughed through his nose. She smiled and shrugged, an entire conversation being spoken without saying a word.

What do you think now, Mulder? she thought, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Is our thrill still gone? Do you-?

“Is being bedfellows the only way into a place of employment at Wandering Willows?” he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Not always,” she said, carefully considering her words. “All options for employment are taken into consideration.”

“So if it’s beneficial to the farm…”

“Or if the person is just really good looking…” she said with a shrug and he smiled.

“And they own a mustard farm…”

“Or a fruit farm. We’re always looking to expand. And if we can lock down jellies… well…” She sucked air in through her teeth and he threw his head back as he laughed.

Yeah, she thought with a smile. The thrill is definitely still there.

#fictober 23 #fictober2023 #xffictober23 #the x files #season 6 #Arcadia #teasing #awkward flirting #humor #fake relationship #sharing a space #banter #laughter #xf fanfic

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thus-spoke-lo · 1 year

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What Big Teeth You Have // Freeloader!Toji Fushiguro x afab!reader // NSFW/18+ Written for @bastardblvd's House of Slimy Horrors Collab - prompt "werewolves"

Synopsis: Your freeloading boyfriend is the Big Bad Wolf to your Little Red Riding Hood for tonight's Grimetown Halloween Festival. A shortcut through the woods proves perilous, however--it's a full moon, and danger lurks even closer than you think. CW: slimeball au; afab!reader [no pronouns used to address reader]; reader wears dress/skirt; brief mention of vaginal intercourse; body horror [descriptive steps of werewolf transformation]; vomiting [reader]; werewolf violence [ex. biting with intent to maim/injure/consume]; implied character death WC: 3k // Fictober Masterlist

“Toji, wait up, you’re walking too fast!”

His long strides feel even longer as the heels of your boots sink into the soft ground, smooth soles gliding across damp, grimy leaves, while thin branches in the undergrowth poke and tear at your tights. You wrap your arms around yourself tightly as a brisk wind whips through the darkened forest—you’re not exactly dressed for warmth tonight.

“Weren’t you the one in a hurry to get there?” Toji retorts from a few paces in front of you, the grey wolf tail of his costume swaying against his thighs, lean hips swinging with each step. “Better keep up, Red, or somethin’ spooky’ll get ya in these woods.”

You huff a sigh and grit your teeth, trying to ignore the growing ache in your legs and the way your lungs burn from the stench of dead forest that lingers in the cold air. A feeling of being on edge—of being right on the precipice of something dangerous, something dreadful—blooms inside your chest with every step.

“I still don’t understand why we had to walk. Why couldn’t we call a cab?” you shout after him, swiping away a spiderweb as you stumble over another rock.

“I tried, babe,” he says shrugging his wide shoulders. “The guy said one of their drivers was off tonight so it was gonna be a super long wait. Besides, isn’t this more fun?”

“Not fucking really,” you mutter under your breath, watching the steam puff out of your mouth with each word, sending your vitriol into the night.

The Halloween festival had started hours ago—just before sundown, back when you’d first donned your discount Little Red Riding Hood costume (“Diminutive Crimson Cruising Cap” you’d read aloud to yourself in line at the Halloween shop earlier that week, trying to avoid staring at the large printout of Toji behind the counter with the words “UNWELCOME—DO NOT SERVE THIS MAN” printed across the bottom), and carefully smoothed out the wrinkles in the cheap material.

You stripped Toji of his skintight shirt and sweats as he grumbled about having to attend the festival, and he tried to ply you with messy kisses and large, warm hands wandering over your body as a means of convincing you to stay home with him, to curl up on the sofa and put on some scary movie and watch all of five minutes of it before succumbing to his charms and the lure of his massive dick. You fought your base urges valiantly, trying not to become distracted by his broad, muscled form and the way his fingers felt brushing against your exposed skin, and focused on coaxing him into the Big Bad Wolf (or “Large Deplorable Dog”) costume that you’d purchased.

“Please, Toji? Pretty please?” you pouted, tracing your finger over his bare chest. “Go get ready and put it on for me, won’t you? You’ll look so hot in it.”

“Aw come on, why do I gotta wear that?” he whined as he tore open the package in a way that meant you couldn’t stuff it back in the bag and try to return it tomorrow. “I already have my wolf costume.”

“You mean that fuckin’ bathmat?” you scowled, pointing at the crumpled heap of brown fabric by your front door. “Absolutely not, now go shower and put this on.”

“But that bathmat is convincing, baby,” he said with a pout, gripping you by the waist and pulling you against his bare torso. “I’ve made so much money off that thing.”

“Wait, you what?”

“Huh? Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

After enough cajoling and sweet-talking and promises that you’d definitely help fund his new app idea, he finally trudged off to get ready for the evening, reappearing an hour later smelling like too much Axe body spray and looking like the cover of the kind of supernatural romance novel you could only find in certain pockets of the internet.

“Well, whaddya think, Red?” Toji asked, giving you a little spin as he walked out of your bedroom, throwing on the rubber wolf mask and strolling to the center of the room. Your heart fluttered (as did something else) at the sight of him in a tattered flannel shirt and ripped jeans, giving you hints of the fine musculature underneath. He looked big, and gruff, and dangerous—not all that different from how he looked day-to-day, but now with an irresistible layer of lycanthropy.

“Wow,” you murmured, running your hands over the cheap fur gloves, skin tingling at the way his warm breath huffed out of the open jaws of the mask, “you certainly do make a convincing wolf.”

“I know, huh?” Toji mused, tilting his head like a curious canine. “Like I was born to play it.”

You carefully removed the mask and gloves, tossing them on the couch beside you, and reached up to run your fingers through his mess of dark hair. “My—what big eyes you have, Mister Wolf.”

“All the better to look at that nice ass with, Red.” He reached a wide hand around to grab at the meat of your backside, squeezing you until you yelped.

“And goodness—what big hands you have.”

“Well, all the better to tease you with, sweetheart,” he whispered, his hand trailing over your hip and across your thigh, to settle in the cleft between your legs, pressing against your heat.

“And my, my, my,” you purred as your hand trailed down his chest, down the rock-hard abs barely hidden by his open shirt, down to the thick, heavy hardness that was already beginning to strain the fabric of his jeans. “What a big dick you have, Mister Big…Bad…Wolf.”

He grinned like the predator he was, even without all the furry accoutrements, grabbing you by the nape of your neck as he leaned in, lips barely ghosting yours. “Why, all the better to fuck you with.”

It wasn’t long before you were bent over your couch and Toji bullied his fat cock inside your aching cunt, ruining you over and over again until your legs were jelly and your brain was scrambled and you’d agreed to give him money for…something else, you couldn’t even remember what at that point. It was then you realized that it was dark outside, not even a streak of sunlight left in the sky and the moon hiding behind thick patches of clouds—and that you would likely miss most of the festival’s events if you didn’t pull your panties up your trembling legs and hustle out the door.

As you continue to make your way through the darkened forest, the path ahead barely visible with only Toji’s broad body as a beacon to guide you, something is making your skin crawl—you must still have some leftover cottony spiderweb on you, and you dig your nails dig into your flesh to relieve the sensation, lightly at first, then a little harder. But no matter how you scratch, you’re just itchy, so fucking itchy. It must be the cheap material of your costume, or maybe you brushed against some sort of poison plant—these woods had to be chock-full of them—but regardless of why, it feels like your skin is on fire, and no amount of careful scratching is even beginning to quell the feeling. And it’s hot—why is it so goddamned hot? The chill in the air has been chased away by a sudden and overwhelming fiery sensation, like you’re slowly being boiled from the inside by your own blood. A feeling you know too well starts to wrap around you, a heavy blanket of imending doom you cannot ignore.

It can’t be.

No, no, no—it can’t.

You’d been careful, so careful. It must be something you ate—you did inhale an awful lot of peanut butter cups, maybe it’s a new and extremely unexpected peanut allergy. Yes, that has to be it…

“Hey, babe, what—are you okay?” Toji stops in his tracks, cocking his head to one side as he studies you. He almost looks concerned—almost.

“Why?” you ask, scratching at your skin feverishly and wiping away the sweat the was beginning to drip from your temples. Can he see how your face glistens with moisture? The red marks that line your forearms from your mindless itching? The way your body trembles, vibrating on a frequency that few can hear?

“Uh…it’s nothing.” He furrows his brow and presses his lips together, looking you over another moment before he resumes his trek. “Nevermind.”

You hike after him, trying to match his pace and failing as every piece of clothing feels like it’s suffocating you. “Is it—is it warm? It’s so warm. When did it get warm?”

“You were just complaining how cold it is—what the hell are you talking about?” Toji grunts from up ahead.

“I don’t know. I’m just—I’m running hot tonight, I guess.”

As you amble through the forest, head full of static, body still burning you alive from the inside out, you catch a hint of light shining through the dense clouds. They begin to dissipate for the first time tonight, and your lips part in horror as the moon shines down at its full brightness, no noise coming from your lungs for a moment except for the bleak sounds of your own shivering breaths.

“Toji.” His name leaves your lips quietly, like something akin to a plea. “It’s a full moon.”

“Yeah, ain’t that neat?” he chuckles from up ahead. “A full moon on Halloween.”

“It—I thought it wasn’t supposed to be ‘til tomorrow,” you stutter, tears already starting to form at your lashline as the realization of your grave miscalculation hits you.

“Well, guess you thought wrong, baby.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

If you can just get to the festival—if you can just find a quiet place to ride out this feeling—if you can just talk to Recovery Girl, maybe she has a strain that can mellow you out, you’ll just call her real quick—fuck, your phone doesn’t have any signal, why doesn’t it have any signal in these godforsaken woods? You’re not even that far from town. Could you head back? You should head back. You should just leave him and run—run back home, lock your doors, close the curtains, it’ll all be fine, it’ll—

“Whoa, slow down, Red, what’s your hurry?” Toji’s hands wraps around your wrist and yanks you backwards—somehow you’d managed to eclipse him, your legs moving as fast as your thoughts. “You act like the big, bad wolf is chasing you or something. We got all the time in the world, sweetheart.”

With swift movements, Toji pins you to the nearest tree and snakes an arm around your waist, pressing his warmth against you. He growls long and low as he leans in and licks a thick stripe up your neck, kissing back down the trail, biting and sucking along your blazing-hot skin. It’s hard to resist him at first, a deep and painful ache building in your core at his touch—but the way your skin still itches and the way your insides still feel like they’re going to ignite is too distracting, too all-consuming, especially when you know you’re on borrowed time.

“Toji, we need to get going,” you insist, trying and failing to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Aw, but it’s all dark and cold and we’re all alone,” he coos, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You never wanted to fuck in the woods?”

“Please.” You do, of course, want to fuck in the woods—just not these woods, just not these woods right now, when your body is blazing and your stomach is churning and the direness of your situation is becoming more and more apparent. “I’m—I’m not feeling well.”

And it is true, every quiet word, delivered through shaking breaths—you’re succumbing, moment-by-moment, to a sickness that you could never escape, one that you know defies explanation and rational thought. He’ll never believe you—not unless he sees it for himself, and that would be a step in your so-called relationship you could never, ever take back.

“Well I know just what you need to feel better, baby—a nice big dick from your big, bad wolf.” His hand slides from your waist down to your hips, fingers digging into the plushness beneath your cheap skirt.

“Toji, please…I really don’t feel well.”

Something in the way you plead, the look of utter helplessness that you must be wearing all over your sweat-drenched face, makes him recoil and back away, his hands slipping away from your body to hang loosely at his sides. Before you can stop yourself, bitter acid comes clawing up your throat and you manage to turn your head just in time to vomit on the ground instead of all over Toji.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He sounds more worried than angry, more confused than upset. “Did you eat some of that gas station sushi again?”

You push past him and manage to stagger a few feet away before you bend in half, heaving and emptying yourself of this afternoon’s McNuggets, staying there until you finally feel hollow. As you stand and turn, cheeks puffy and tear-stained, chest tender and ribs creaking with every labored breath, Toji gasps and you know—it’s starting.

“Baby,” he says, the word drawn out and quiet, barely audible over the wind that rustles the remaining leaves still clinging to their branches, “what happened?”

“What do you mean?” you ask as you wipe the bile from your chin, gagging at the acrid taste that remains on your tongue.

“Your eyes.” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing under his skin. “What…what big eyes you have.”

You’ve seen them in the mirror time and time again when you lock yourself in your apartment to wait out the storm that rages inside you once a month: they burn bright like smelted gold. You wonder if the way your pupils grow and bloom in the dark looks the same as when you’re in the throes of lust—or if perhaps it looks altogether inhuman.

“Thank you, Toji,” you murmur, your voice settling into a guttural growl. “You’re just so sweet to me.”

He presses his back against the tree and you sense his heart thundering in his chest, hear the way his fingertips grasp at the bark of the tree. But he doesn’t run—he could still outpace you, at least for the moment, at least until you reach your magnificent final form, and you wonder if he can still sense something human inside you.

You certainly don’t think you can anymore.

“What are you so afraid of, baby?” you ask, the itching sensation growing and growing as long, silver hair envelops your body. Toji cringes and clenches his eyes shut, his chest heaving with short, harsh breaths with every step you take towards him. That awful squelching sound you are so accustomed to must have hit his ears—the sound of your skin stretching, growing, making room for the bones that crack and snap and elongate—and the beginnings of a scream tries to find its way out into the night air, but only finds life as a choked gasp.

It’s strange—this is the first time you’ve seen this man scared of anything other than taxes and accountability.

And it makes your heart pound faster, and your blood run hotter, and your sharpening teeth tingle with an anticipatory exhilaration. This is the first time you’ve seen him scared, and he’s scared of you of all things: you, milquetoast and mediocre, middling and meek—and now he trembles as you press your long, crooked fingers against the brick wall of his chest, your hands flat against him, feeling the heightened tempo of his heart underneath your palm. It’s enough to make you laugh, if you could remember how through the fog of yearning, through the desperate need to consume.

And oh, it feels good. It feels right. It feels like a natural order has at last been restored, with you at the apex of the food chain for once in your life, standing atop the freeloaders and the users and the conmen. Watching him cower like a frightened rabbit is so exquisitely intoxicating, a drug you’d gladly synthesize and microdose every day of your damned life.

Toji alternates between spitting curses at you, vile and desperate, and pleading with sweet words of praise and adoration—he loves you, he adores you, he’d do anything for you if you’ll just let him go. It’s fun for a while, watching him struggle and thrash underneath you, his wide hands grasping weakly at your forearms, as though he could do any real damage to the body that you now inhabit. Toji squeals helplessly as you grab his wrists and force his arms above his head, long claws sinking into his skin. The scent coming off him is luscious, succulent even, and you feel a hunger begin to overtake you—one that will only be satisfied with something warm, something that tastes of iron and sinew.

Your lips curl into something approximating a smile—at least you think it’s a smile, it’s so hard to tell where the thin edges of your lips begin and end around the elongated snout that protrudes from your face, and the look on Toji’s face says you might have settled upon a snarl instead.

“Oh honey,” Toji chokes out, voice cracking as tears run down his chiseled cheeks in delicious rivulets. He whimpers as your wide tongue laps at them—they taste like dread. “W-what big teeth you h-have.”

The words you growl back are obscured by his scream as your canines at last gain purchase in the tendons of his thick neck: “All the better to eat you with.”

#lo writes #lo's fictober 2023 #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #slimeball au

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baronessblixen · 1 year

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Today's prompt: 30. "Are you with me?"

Fluff(?) post "Je Souhaite": Mulder wants to know what Scully's wishes would have been (wc: 831)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 10: Wishes

At first, he thinks she's asleep. He can't blame her for falling asleep watching Caddyshack. She's leaning heavily against him, head on his shoulder and hand over his heart. He's been secretly calling it the 'Scully position'. They end up like this on planes (no complaints) and now frequently in the mornings (again, no complaints). She sighs, and he realizes she isn't asleep at all, and just very, very quiet.

"Are you with me?" he asks.

"Where else would I be?" She leans her head back to look at him.

"You seem miles away."

"I'm watching your movie."

"It's not my movie. And I thought you didn't like it."

"I don't," she says with a chuckle. "I was just- I was thinking."

"At this time of day?" He feigns shock, making her laugh. "What were you thinking?"

"Did you really wish for world peace? Why?"

"Unlike you," he says, touching the tip of her nose, "I wasn't thinking. I thought that would solve everything. There are no easy solutions. It's like you said. Maybe our time here is to achieve all that. However, I fear humankind has a bad track record when it comes to peace. Let alone world peace."

"You tried anyway." He shrugs.

"You know me. Hey, what would you have wished for?"

"Mulder, you've seen what those wishes could do."

"It's just for fun. Come on. If there were no strings attached, what would you wish for?" She stares back at him, contemplating it. His heart inexplicably hammers in his chest. She may be fairly happy now, with him, but what if she wishes she could be somewhere else, be with somebody else?

"There are always strings."

"Just pretend, Scully," he says, daring her with a grin.

"Well," she says, moving away from him and putting her legs under her. Now they look like they're two kids at a sleepover, playing make-believe. She taps her finger against her lips, thinking. He watches her, mesmerized.

When he wished for world peace, and Scully wasn't there, it was as if his greatest nightmare had come true. He doesn't want to think about it anymore. He wished his last wish. At least out loud. He has a few he keeps to himself, close to his heart. There's one wish - no, hope - and that's being here like this with Scully. Spending the evening together cuddling, and watching movies. He never wanted to get out of the car. But maybe every once in a while they can take a break. Like this.

"I can't think of anything."

"Nothing?" he asks, moving closer. He knows she's only telling half the truth. She doesn't walk around, her arms wide open, wishing for the improbable. That's him. But he knows her and he can see it her eyes, The glimmers of hope and want.

"You don't wish for me to shut up?"

"No," she says with a smile, touching his cheek where his stubble is coming through. "I already told you, didn't I? I'm happy."

"You said fairly happy."

"Are we doing semantics now?" He knows what her greatest wish is. The one she's afraid to speak out loud. She's done it once before and it didn't work out. He almost wished it for her. Almost made it his last wish. I want Scully to have a child. But there were so many variables and so many ways he could have fucked that up. Now, no one can mess with Jenn anymore and she gets to be her own person, and maybe even get her own happy ending. Either way, she gets to live her life.

"You don't have to say it," he says, nodding more to himself. "I know. I know what you wish for and I do too." Her expression crumbles, a piece of sadness falling away. These days, she lets him see her vulnerability. She no longer hides it from him and he couldn't be more thankful.

He never wants to see Scully sad. Never. But now he gets to comfort her because she lets him in. Sometimes he has to climb her walls, but once he's there, she never pushes him away. It has been months since the failed IVF. They've carved a new path for themselves, but he knows that sometimes she's still looking back, wondering what could have been.

"Mulder, I-"

"You're fairly happy. I know. And I'll take it. That is, if you still want... me."

"Do you think I'd watch Caddyshack with just anyone?" She closes the distance between them, planting herself in his lap.

"I am happy," she repeats. "Here with you."

"Even when I make you watch Caddyshack."

"Even then. Even if you made me watch Plan 9 From Outer Space again."

"That's a classic, Scully. You get to choose the movie next time. Unless you-"

"You know what? I do wish for you to shut up now." She grabs his head with both hands and draws his face closer, kissing him like there's no tomorrow.

#fictober23 #i'm struggling i know #i'm just so damn tired #hey we're already 10 days in!#msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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randomfoggytiger · 11 months

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randomfoggytiger's Fictober Wrap Up, 2023

My first Fictober has concluded; and I decided to throw together my entries, thoughts, and acknowledgements into one post for posterity.

*****

Fictober Fics

"The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully"

Mulder and Scully reunite in the afterlife, two skeletons dancing in the rain and the mud.

"Regardless of His Actions Last Night"

Queequeg, alive and savage, joins Scully on her Chinga vacation.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part I

Mulder and Scully are attacked and turned into vampires by Ronnie Strickland. Scully's crisis begins when her faith seemingly rejects her.

"Time Passing in Moments"

Post Fight the Future Scully brings Halloween to Mulder, determined to give him a break while they wait and wait and wait for OPR.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part II

Mulder encourages Scully not to give up on her faith, both of them choosing to face potential death by holy fireball rather than letting her live in fearful limbo.

"There's Something Up There Mulder"

Scully realizes that Tooms is likely a distant relation of the Gender Bender Brethren (Amish hats are mentioned.)

"I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself"

Metaphorical similarities between Mulder's supposed red-green colorblindness (which he does not have) and red-hot Phoebe Green.

"How Much You're Like Ahab"-- Mulder parallels his and Scully's crime scene eating habits to those of their cannibalistic pets.

"The Truth Is Out There-- But So Are Lies"-- Scully ruminates on her partner's ease with lying; and her ability to save him from Them and himself.

"Something Approaching a Normal Life"-- Mulder realizes Scully had invited him to (a disastrous) Thanksgiving to distract himself from the anniversary of his sister's abduction. He plans to return the favor.

"Preying on the Weak and Vainglorious"-- Post Sanguinarium Mulder ruminates on bad luck and bad ends; and Scully insists he's beautiful.

"Kids Today, Huh?"-- 2023 Mulder sinks into a slump after listening to a mopey song all day. Scully reasons him out of it.

"Is Being Made a Fool Of a Crime, Agent Mulder?"-- Mulder and Scully celebrate life, the dead, and all the Roadrunners and Wile E. Coyotes of the world. (My "happy birthday in a way, Mulder" fic.)

"We Need to Get Help"-- Mulder contemplates the glaring similarities between Gender Bender and Never Again and the new differences in his partner.

"We'll Think of Something"-- The Unnatural Scully grumbles over Mulder's tendency to run off into trouble. She goes, anyway.

"End of the Road"-- Mulder's peace after Closure.

"He Had Parents Who Loved Him"-- The Mulder family and baseball.

"I Think She Was Just Trying To Get Away"-- Scully reminisces on Mulder's distance and need for distraction post Monday.

"You Don't Know the First Thing About Me"-- Krycek has fixed opinions about the Syndicate, Mulder, Marita, and morals.

"My Religious Convictions Are Hardly the Issue Here"-- Scully and Mulder try to tackle her fears post All Souls.

"I'm Tired"-- Scully draws parallels between her Tithonus experience and Mulder's Sleepless and Demons one.

"Life’s Just a Path”-- If Melissa were alive post Fight the Future and Millennium, she'd never let her sister live it down.

"I Think He’s a Hard Kid to Love”-- Post Schizogeny Scully is sent on a case with Mulder to unofficially help Skinner's friends, one of which is a bear. (Prompts and artwork contributed by my two sisters.)

"Mulder Will Be Back”-- Jeffrey Spender sneers at Mulder's "hubris."

"Easy for You to Say”-- Post First Person Shooter Mulder is enamored with his little battle girlfriend.

"No More Paranormal than a Change of Wardrobe”-- Freshly-dating Mulder and Scully's lifestyles don't quite match yet; but the effort is worth it.

"What Must a Mother Go Through”-- Post Emily Mulder reasons Scully out of her Mrs. Peacock comparisons.

"Watch Over You Wherever You Go”-- One Breath Maggie remembers the many reinterpretations of her daughter's necklace.

"Your Ideas Are Weirder than Ours”-- The Lone Gunmen are woken by two very grumpy-with-each-other special agents.

"Doesn’t Make Him Less of a Miracle”-- AU Mulder tries to fight colonization and wrangle his "sea monster" child at the local ball pit.

"Sooner or Later a Man’s Gotta Face His Demons”-- Post Amor Fati Scully prods Mulder on a stakeout about his lack of Samhain hunting.

*****

My Thoughts

It's been a few years since I've committed to a daily creative project, but this month flew by. It was a joy to prove myself, in a way; and an even greater privilege to take other people's prompts and turn them into stories. I'm proud of the work I put in, proud of how they turned out, and proud that they entertained anyone who read them.

I did discover a personal writing flaw: grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. Which, given that I write and "edit" everything in under an hour and that my brain autocorrects and rewrites while I'm actively writing, is understandable. There are multiple reblogged versions of my finalized fics because I would spot an error and edit after publication but not before the readers hit. And that's okay! (When my Ao3 submission goes through, I'll upload each fic "in its final form", so no sweat there.)

*****

Trivia

Each fic was named with a quote from The X-Files, mostly from Mulder and Scully but also by various side characters (Phoebe Green, Krycek, and Maggie, namely.)

I tackled Scully's religion a lot this month as a way to work out my frustrations with her episodes: her belief in the series has always been chocked up as "yes man" syndrome; and I believe it did a disservice to Scully, multi-layered character that she is. I hope it did her a little more justice.

In a way, I dedicate "The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully" to @enigmaticdrblockhead-- whose writing not only influenced that piece but also sticks with me to this day-- and @perpetually-weirdening-- whose interest in an immortal Scully breathed life into this idea.

In a way, I dedicate "The Truth is out There, But So Are Lies" to @suitablyaggrieved: the discussion we had (concerning Mulder's ability to lie quite well) rattled around in my head until I put it down "on paper."

In a way, I dedicate "Something Approaching a Normal Life" to Baroness Blixen, who is the master of weaving angst and fluff into her holiday fics.

In a way, I dedicate "I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself" to @settle-down-frohike because it reads more meta than fic (while also reading as fic.)

In a way, I dedicate "He Had Parents Who Loved Him" to @television-overload, whose baseball fic inspired by Field of Dreams still takes up space in my noggin.

And I think that's all my thoughts for now~.

*****

Acknowledgements and Thanks

@baronessblixen for encouraging me to write this month-- another boost on the long list of encouragements you've given me~.

@agent-troi and @welsharcher (my Fox Mulder Singleton Club members) for their generous prompts. Truly touched by both of you: your loooooooong list, agent-troi; and your vibey suggestions, welsharcher.

@wexleresque for your vampire prompt (that was a fun fic challenge), and your "looking up at the sky" prompt (which challenged me to tackle older years Mulder and Scully.)

@stephy-gold for her Nessa Barrett song prompt (which I plugged into older years Mulder and Scully)-- I learned something new and tackled a genre that is not my favorite (songfic.)

@tossingmyglossymane for the post Monday prompt, which was more challenging to write than expected (and turned out great.)

@xxsksxxx for the prompt about Scully's cross necklace-- that was an initial struggle to nail down until I tied it back to Maggie; then it flowed~.

Anon for the prompt wanting Mulder to mull over Scully's words in Gender Bender (which tied, I thought, perfectly into his confusion in Never Again.)

Thank you to my sisters for the fall prompts that lead to Bernie the Bear (and another thank you to my younger sister who let me include her doodle for that day's Fictober entry.)

And thank you to everyone who engaged, liked, reblogged, and anything else! (I always like to dip in and out of the Notes section to see how each person responded differently to each fic-- a bonus game: make guesses and see if they're correct.) There are too many to count, so I'll just include a few off the top of my head: @dd-is-my-guiltypleasure, @amplifyme, @pianogirlxf, @scullys-scalpel, @teenie-xf, @agertiegirl, @improlificinsarcasm, @borogirl, @tofuttim, @mysteryness, @rosedyl, @spidey-is-tired, and others~!

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

#txf #fic #Fictober #compilation #Wrap Up #mine #xf fanfic #xfiles #x-files #the x files #xf fic #randomfoggytiger's fic

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captainsophiestark · 2 years

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Can’t Sneak Out

Damon Salvatore x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Prompt: “Not on my watch!”

Summary: When yet another massive supernatural threat comes to Mystic Falls, Y/N is ready to go out and help the rest of the Mystic Falls Scooby Gang beat it. Unfortunately, a bad cold ends up messing with their witchy-woo enough that they need to stay home and rest, instead. Since Y/N is the kind of person to go out and push themselves to the limits anyway, Damon's been tasked with keeping them home and resting, and he's taking his job very seriously.

Word Count: 1,604

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Damon, if you don't get out of my way-"

"What? What are you gonna do? You're sick as a dog right now Y/N, you couldn't even hex me if you tried!"

I growled in frustration and threw my hands up in the air. "Our friends are out there risking their lives right now! I can't stand being cooped up in here, so get the hell out of my way."

"No."

"Ugh!" I threw my hands up in the air, but Damon didn't budge. I huffed and stomped around a bit, but his expression didn't soften at all. Finally, I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Fine. If you're gonna be such a pain in the ass, then I'm gonna go take a nap instead of spending time in here with you. Goodnight."

I spat the last word, then turned on my heel and headed for my bedroom. In truth, I had absolutely no intention of taking a nap. I just needed my babysitter to think that was the plan so I could sneak out behind his back while he wasn't paying attention.

I slammed my bedroom door behind me, then rustled the sheets loudly like I was flopping into bed. I waited a few beats, ruffled the sheets again like I was laying there and trying to get comfortable, then waited again. Finally, when I decided I'd waited long enough, I crept across the floor to the window.

Slowly, carefully, and like I'd done more than once in high school, I eased the window open. It was completely silent, and I stepped out onto the roof with practiced ease. I walked to the edge of the roof and eased over it until I hung on by just my fingers, my feet dangling above the porch. I still really didn't feel great thanks to my cold, so it was a little harder than usual, but nothing I couldn't handle.

Finally, when I felt confident in my position, I let go and dropped down to the porch in triumph.

I found Damon standing in front of me with his arms crossed, staring at me and clearly not impressed.

"Did you really think that trick was gonna work on me?" he deadpanned.

"Dammit Damon! Get out of my way, I'm going to help my friends."

I tried to storm past him, but I didn't get very far. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, then started heading for the front door of the house.

"Not on my watch!" he said, his tone entirely too cheery for the mood I was currently in.

Once we were back in the house, he dumped me unceremoniously on the couch, then started heading for the kitchen.

"You lay there and rest," he ordered. "I'll make you some soup or something-"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I finally demanded, shouting despite my sore throat as I popped back onto my feet and glared at him. He stopped in the kitchen doorway and stared back at me with a raised eyebrow, but my scowl only got more fierce.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his tone making it clear he thought I was being crazy. I clenched my fists and took a few furious steps towards him.

"I mean, who the hell are you, because you're sure as hell not being Damon Salvatore right now!" Damon scoffed and rolled his eyes, and I knew he had some witty retort on the tip of his tongue, but I jumped in before he could say it. "I've personally seen you cajole Bonnie into the middle of danger and heart-stopping spells when she's on the verge of death. You'll send Matt off to be bait with no defense at the drop of a hat. Tyler, Caroline, even Stefan! If they can be of help, you don't try to stand in their way, even if they should be resting instead of world-saving. But with me? You're a helicopter parent!"

"Y/N..." he warned, taking a few steps towards me. We were almost face to face now, but I wasn't stopping at all. In fact, I was just getting started.

"No, I mean it!" I cried. "I have a cold, and yeah, it might make it harder for me to throw down like I usually do, but it's not like I'm completely bedridden! And yet here you are, barely letting me off the couch for some fear that I'll drop dead if I do more than breathe! So why? You just want to get on my nerves that badly, that you've decided to keep me from helping our friends? You want to mess with me? So much that you're here, stopping me from sneaking out like a high schooler in a teen movie, instead of helping your brother fight something that could very well kill him? Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because I'm in love with you!"

He shouted it back with the same frustration and exasperation that I'd had in my tone. He'd been getting more and more worked up as I'd laid into him, and apparently he just couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm in love with you, Y/N, alright? So much so that I'm here, making you soup, instead of with my brother. So yes, I am hovering, but it's because I care. And because you don't know your limits at all. The number of times Bonnie's had to step in to save you from an overwhelming spell when you're healthy is so high I can't count it on one hand, and if you go out right now and push yourself past the point of no return, I'd never be able to live with myself for letting it happen. Never."

I just stared at him as he finished his speech. He was breathing hard, and it was clearly my turn to say something, but I couldn't process the confession I'd just received. After a few moments of stunned silence, I finally managed to choke out the obvious.

"You're in love with me?"

"Yes, Y/N. I'm in love with you. And I know you hate me, but-"

"Whoa, whoa, wait. I don't hate you. Damon, I've never hated you. I mean, I've definitely wanted to kill you a few times, but... but I actually like you too. Like, a lot." My heart beat faster at the admission, even though Damon had literally just told me he felt the same way.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Yeah, really. At this specific moment, I'm a little frustrated with you, but on the whole? Yeah."

Damon stared at me for a few seconds, his blue eyes piercing mine and an expression of awe on his face as he took me in. Then, in a flash of vampire speed, he crossed the room and wrapped me in his arms. I laughed as he pulled me to him, a devilish smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, I don't want to waste any more time," he said. He leaned in to close the distance between us, aiming for a kiss, but I put my hands on his shoulders and stopped him. He raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"I have a cold, remember?" I said. "I don't want to get you sick."

"Sweetheart, I have fantastic news for you. Vampires don't get sick."

"Wait really?" He nodded. "Holy shit that's awesome!"

"I agree."

With that, he leaned in again, and this time I didn't stop him. It felt a little crazy to be kissing Damon Salvatore, but I also absolutely couldn't say I minded. Even if Bonnie was going to kill me for it later.

After a few seconds, we broke apart. Even if I couldn't pass my cold to Damon, I was still sick, and I just didn't have the energy for a dramatic, romantic make out session after a confession of love.

Thankfully, Damon could tell. When we pulled apart he kept his arms wrapped around me, then smiled at me, blissful happiness written all over his face.

"Wanna watch some dumb movies while I make us some hot soup?" he finally asked. I sighed, leaning into his chest.

"That sounds perfect."

"Good. C'mon, let's get you to the couch." He kissed the top of my head, then walked me over to the most comfortable spot on the couch. I settled into the cushions and blankets as he started queuing up one of my favorite movies. I smiled to myself as I watched him, feeling a sense of peace and belonging I never would've thought to associate with Damon before.

"This is gonna sound really lame," I mused as Damon finished setting up the movie and then headed for the kitchen. "But honestly, this is my ideal first date."

I heard Damon snort from the kitchen, and it only made me smile wider. And just like that, I found myself perfectly happy to sit here with Damon and rest a little. The dangers and challenges of Mystic Falls would still be waiting when I was healthy, after all. And now I'd be facing them with Damon as my partner instead of my adversary.

We were going to be unstoppable together. The supernatural world would have to watch its back.

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lovebugism · 11 months

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hi hi hi!! I love you work so much! I was wondering if I could request "secretly holding hands while standing beside each other at a bonfire" with eddie?? 🤍🤍

i had an idea and ran with it so it's a wee bit different from the original prompt, but i hope you like it! — you and eddie try to keep your relationship a secret at the senior class bonfire (secret relationship, cheerleader!reader fluff, 1.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Wearing your cheer uniform to the Hawkins High bonfire was a bad idea. Not ditching it to hang out with Eddie was worse.

You’re left constantly looking over your shoulder for him, eager to break away from the mindless conversations and find meaning in the autumn in the boy everyone called a freak.

You think you’re being subtle about it until Tina Burton cuts herself off mid-sentence to ask, “What are you looking for?” She sounds annoyed with you, borderline offended ‘cause you aren’t hanging on every word she says.

She’s captain of the cheer squad, so you fluster like you’re being genuinely scolded. “Hm? Oh— nothing. It’s… It’s nothing,” you stammer and look down at your feet, toeing at the tall grass with your white sneakers.

She squints past you, unconvinced. “Okay…”

When she starts rambling again, you try hard to pay attention. None of the words make any sense, though. Your brain noise is too loud. It’s all just Eddie Eddie Eddie.

When a muffled heavy metal bass starts to blare in the distance, it feels almost like you’ve willed him.

This time when you glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s van swing haphazardly into a gravel parking spot. The music comes to a sudden halt when your boy hops out of the driver’s seat, bathed golden from the amber streetlights.

You’re grinning wide the second you see him, smiling harder than anyone ever has before. He catches you all but sparkling at the sight of him, and when he flashes you a crooked grin, you have to look away before you burst entirely.

Chrissy sees your smiling cheeks and the way you hold the expression between your teeth. She nudges you and teases, “What’s that look for, huh?”

You don’t have the words to answer her, so you just shake your head and try to hide the brightness of your beaming.

You glance back again, still trying to be lowkey about the whole thing, and find the rest of Eddie’s friends filing out of the back of his old van. He’s still looking at you, with a smile as wild as his frizzy curls.

He nods over to the empty woods in a silent plea to get you alone.

With a fluttering heart, you nod back at him.

“I’m gonna, uh— I’m gonna get some more cocoa,” you announce suddenly, cutting Tina off mid-sentence and scurrying off before anyone can stop you.

You make sure no one’s looking when you duck past the drink table and head towards the blackened woods. You’re not as scared as you probably should be when you step through the tree line. You figure there’s not much of a reason to be — not when you know Eddie’s out here waiting for you, anyway.

The boy grabs you suddenly from behind. You squeal into the starry night, giggling while he laughs into your shoulder.

“Took you long enough,” you scold, shoving him with a playful hand when you turn around to face him. “I’ve been waiting on you for forever.”

Eddie shrugs with a lopsided grin. “I’m a rockstar, babe. I’m fashionably late— it’s my thing.”

“Right,” you monotone with the roll of your eyes.

You look too pretty not to kiss. Eddie leans down for a swift peck, then grows quickly drunk on the hot cocoa-peppermint chapstick mixture in your mouth. He ducks down again, this time for something more languid.

His plush mouth presses and lingers against yours, innocuous still. He tastes like nicotine and diner food. If domesticity had a taste, you think it’d taste just like this.

Eddie parts from you with a drunken hesitance, wearing your blush pink lipstick on his swollen mouth. Something primal swells in the pit of your stomach. It feels almost like you own him.

His chocolate eyes squint at your mischievous grin. “…What?”

“You have my lipstick all over your mouth.”

It makes him smile, too. He feels more like he’s yours now that he’s got evidence of you. He’d wear you all over if he could. He doesn’t ever want to wipe it off.

“Metal,” he mumbles all boyish, with your rosy lipstick smeared along his mouth.

His crooked grin ebbs when he notices you shivering. His bushy brows pinch in concern.

“You cold?”

You shrug and cross your arms over your chest, hugging yourself for warmth. “Yeah. I’m used to it, though. Normally, I’d wear tights under my skirt, but I figured I’d get too hot during the bonfire…”

You trail off when Eddie starts to shrug off his leather jacket.

“No, Eds.”

“What?”

“You’ll be cold!”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” you whine as his arms wrap around you to put the black cloth over your shoulders. It almost fully conceals your green and white cheer uniform.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Eddie chuckles. “Here, put your arms in.”

You listen but complain the entire time. “You’ll get sick, and you won’t be able to play at your shows, and the bar will be so boring without you.”

Eddie scoffs. If Corroded Coffin couldn’t play their Tuesday night shows, it would just be another Tuesday night at the Hideout. Nothing would change except their seven-to-nine slot being empty. He loves that you think so highly of him, though.

“Well, the only other option is you getting sick and Hawkins losing their best cheerleader. And what would Jason Carver do without you cheering on his mediocrity, huh?”

You roll your eyes with a grumbled “Shut up…”

He smiles again and leans in with the intention to kiss you stupid. A tree limb cracks sharply in the distance before he can. The two of you stumble back from each other on instinct.

Jason Carver appears from the darkened woods, scarier than any psycho-killing maniac that could be roaming these woods at this very moment.

“Speak of the devil, and the devil appears,” Eddie lilts under his breath.

“Jason,” you sigh, breathless for a reason you can’t name. “What are you… What are you doing here?”

“Tina said she saw you walking into the woods… I wanted to make sure you were alright,” the blonde boy answers with a squint to his stone-blue eyes. His gaze darts between you and Eddie, like he’s trying to make sense of the two of you.

The wild-haired boy scoffs and rolls his eyes. How fucking chivalrous, he thinks bitterly to himself.

“Is this freak bothering you?” Jason asks you, a sense of protectiveness coating his words.

He says it like you’re not wearing Eddie’s jacket. Like Eddie’s not wearing your pink lipstick on his mouth.

Still, you smile kindly and shake your head. “Nope. I’m okay.”

“Yeah,” the brunette boy shrugs with a crooked grin. “We’re just talkin’, Carver.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, freak,” Jason bites back.

“We’re fine,” you intervene, voice wavering in fear of the situation becoming bigger than you can handle. “I’ll be back in a flash. I promise.”

Jason’s eyes narrow one last time at Eddie before he ultimately decides to leave.

You let out a shaking sigh when he’s gone.

Eddie laughs. “What a fucking idiot…”

Jason’s got so much muscle in his arms that there’s nothing left for his brain. He still thinks he’s hot shit — star quarterback, free ride to a fancy school — why should the prettiest cheerleader in school be off limits? He still thinks he has a shot with you, no idea that you’re already Eddie’s.

“We should go back out there,” you announce when it gets too quiet. “If Tina’s talking, she’s already gonna give me shit for disappearing.”

“Do you wanna go first, or should I?” Eddie asks. It’s muscle memory at this point. The scheming, the hiding — it’s all the two of you have ever known.

Still, you shift your weight on your feet. Your hands wring together as you draw mindless shapes in the dirt with your sneakers. “I don’t know…” you murmur with a shrug. “We could go together, maybe?”

“Together?”

“Yeah. I mean, we don’t have to, but it beats Jason always intervening when we’re together ‘cause he thinks you’re kidnapping me or something.”

The laugh you let out is halfway forced. You find yourself so suddenly fearful of rejection. Maybe Eddie doesn’t want to be public with you. Maybe he’s hiding because he doesn’t want people to know he likes you.

The boy melts. His features soften as he nears you, wide palms rubbing at your arms in a feeble attempt to keep you warm. “Are you sure you wanna do that, babe?” he wonders with a trembling laugh. “If people know about us— it’ll, like, fuckin’ destroy your rep.”

“I don’t have a rep.”

Eddie’s brows raise. His dark eyes sparkle expectantly.

You’re on your way to being prom queen — with Jason fucking Carver right beside you as king. Everyone knows it. And you know it, too, so you concede with a sigh.

“Well, I care more about you than some stupid reputation, okay? I deserve to spend time with my boyfriend without having to worry about what everyone else is thinking.”

Eddie grins. His heart swells with so much warmth he’s slightly fearful it might burst. He’s never felt prouder of you — prouder to love you. Despite feeling distantly undeserving of your adoration, he nods in response.

“Alright, then… Let’s go break some fucking necks.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #st drabbles #eddie munson drabble #event: fictober!

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jarofstyles · 1 year

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FICTOBER DAY 5- Can I Hold Your Hand?

Here is day 4, a bit of cutie dadrry <3 Enjoy!

FICTOBER Prompt list and Masterlist

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WC-700+

-------

“Can I hold your hand?” The small voice peeped up at him. Their son in his train conductor costume had been insistent that he was too big to hold his father’s hand, he was a big boy now and he could do trick or treating all by himself.

Y/N pushed the baby carriage, his little sister still a drooly little baby with a plush pumpkin costume on her body and a tiny hat on her head to keep her warm as the october air chilled up. His wife was dressed up in a poodle skirt and letterman jacket, a little tie around her neck and a bouncy ponytail bobbing as she walked. Harry had chosen function this halloween, wearing jeans and a black leather jacket. His saddle shoes were the only thing he purchased for the getup, his hair slicked back in a 50’s like manner- except that one strand that escaped and curled over his head. Y/N had been adamant he not try and fix it, it apparently did something to her.

“Yeah? Not too big to hold my hand now, mate?” He teased, placing his hand down for the smaller one to take. Their gait was slow, their son not the fastest with his Thomas the Tank Engine soft cut out around his body. It made him a big more clumsy, too, which is why Harry was glad Y/N had put knee guards and gloves on him.

“No. I’m am big, but I don’t like all the noises.” He tried to maintain, but the spooky music filtering through the neighborhood and sound effects of the motion sensor activated decor making the poor thing jump. Hell, one of those things had even made Harry clutch his chest as he had approached the front door to ring for candy. What was with these things getting more and more accessible to the public? He remembered the only time he used to see these things were in haunted houses he went to in uni. Now it seemed everyone on the block had a jumpscare waiting to strike. Stupid screaming skeleton.

“It’s okay, baby.” Y/N crooned. “Did you know that on one of our first dates, Daddy took me to see a movie and got so scared he screeched?” It was true, but it was justified. Most of the room had jumped or made a noise too- it just so happened that his had been a bit more loud and high pitched than he would have liked.

Harry looked at her with narrowed eyes, scoffing as his wife grinned like the little shit she was. Really? “Are you ever going to let me live that down? I told you, it was just a bad jump scare. You jumped too.” He looked towards their son, who was giggling simply because Y/N was. “Mumma’s being silly. It’s not a bad thing to scream either, it’s natural.”

“But you’re so big and old, Daddy. You can’t get scared.” He giggled, his fingers squeezing on to Harry’s as they approached another pathway to go up to the house. It was decked out in cobwebs and had some cool orange and purple lighting, spooky sound effects filtering through hidden speakers in the bushes. The howl of a wolf sounded, having him step closer to Harry’s leg. “You go with me?”

“What’s this, then hm? Make fun of me for being scared and then asking me to go?” He ruffled the conductor hat on his head. “You’re lucky I love you loads and Mumma is afraid of the spiders in those webs or I’d made you go with her.” It was all in jest, Y/N simply shrugging. How was she supposed to know what spiders were fake or real? It would be a perfect place for one to hide and jump into her hair!

“It’s okay to be afraid of things, baby. Your father is just silly. Even sillier than me.” Her hand came up to squish Harry’s chin, letting her lipstick give a big kiss mark on his cheek, the bright red in the perfect shape of her lips. When she pulled back, there were loud giggles as the mark was revealed. Harry didn’t mind, clearly, blushing slightly as he knew exactly what she had done, but to their son it was apparently the funniest thing in the world. Y/N shot him a playful glare before threatening him with the same. “Go on, then. Or you’re getting a kiss mark from me too. Grab Mumma a chocolate if there is one.”

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