#usually I save these kind of posts for the middle of the night when no one's online to see me be embarrassing

[xf-cases-solved]

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

***

Memento Vivere

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They don't say anything. 

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pleasure.

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

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

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

It is a terrible idea.

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

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

She doesn't.

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I come in?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mulder rubs the nape of his neck and shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scully draws her lower lip between her teeth. 

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

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

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

"Scully—"

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

Mulder gives a breathy, disbelieving laugh.

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

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

"Scully..."

"Do you trust me?"

He lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Of course I do."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe," she agrees.

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

"Not if we don't let it." 

"You really think it's that simple?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ice touches enamel. She wants it to burn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods. 

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

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

[shorelinnes]

"sunshine twins" suits han and felix so well but I feel like in very different ways for both of them. like felix is a sunny day when you're hanging out with your friends at the park and you can't remember ever being sad while han is when the sun comes out after it's been cloudy for a week and you finally feel your bad mood lifting a little because no matter how sad you get the world is still a beautiful place

[elizzsush]

Future Child | Twisted Wonderland

Malleus Draconia X Reader

----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?

AUs: None Rating: SFW

Note: Hi, hi! So, basically, I wasn't going to finish this and posted it as a WIP and people really liked it. So, then I had no other choice but to finish it! And I hope you like it.

____________________________________

Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older than five got into night raven campus and has been running amok. Some students say he appeared out of thin air. So, obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of these basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.

Not without you demanding an extra allowance, but still.

Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel thing who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.

You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.” Technically, that was a lie. No, you were going to fix the window Grim broke from practicing his magic in the house, again.

“I want two cans!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat...?

This threat was a real threat!

The sight of the frozen cafeteria did scare you. You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child?

How would you catch this kid without being frozen exactly? Why were you put on this task?

There was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students most of whom were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic…" An awestruck student said, "it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” The nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself.

What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. Even for you to stand in the middle of it, magicless. And this was just the dining hall!

Apparently, you had three more places to check out.

“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed jumping of your shoulder while you ducked.

“Sorry!” A no name student called out… He had been using the fire to dethaw some students.

“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.

.

.

.

The very next place you checked was the courtyard, where Mr. Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible. Everyone else got to be on their dumb magic brooms while you were stuck doing laps.

Mr. Vargas did like to make the boys sweat afterwards though. You got to sit on the grass and laugh at them cheer them on! Especially Ace, who always lagged behind.

Anyway, in the place of the field of green grass that your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. At least it was still green? You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right, it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red-haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.

You liked to think it wouldn't actually be off with their heads, Riddle was above that... Now. You liked to think it was just motivation to make them work harder!

Because it was mostly Heartslabyul students, it worked. "Hey! Riddle?" You called out to the boy. The Housewarden looked at you and jogged up to meet you a way away from the green flames. Was Sebek here as well? You swore you heard his voice shouting...

"You shouldn't be here. This area is off-limits to anyone outside of the Equestrian club because of the danger." Riddle crossed his arms; his tone was pretty gentle though. You nodded along to what he was saying, because it made sense.

"Crowley wants us to find the Fae doing this, do you know anything about it?" You decided to get right to the point. Riddle was busy enough as it was. He seemed to appreciate it too.

The boy glanced back at the students trying to figure out how to calm the fire and shook his head. "I think I heard a few third years mention a blur of H/C going into the school." He mentioned, you mostly knew the kid was in the school. It was one of the places Crowley wanted you to check out, Mr. Trein's class, after that you didn't really know where the kid could be.

You smiled and thanked Riddle before turning to leave, the boy glanced back at the fire before stepping a bit closer to you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Uh- Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to have tea with me later I-"

"Dorm leader! it's spreading!" A student shouted out, a panicked look on their face as they rushed up to the two of you. Riddle muttered something under his breath, before jogging back to the fire. To step up to calm the flames even more than what the regular student could do so you left.

“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered, a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish your conversation with Riddle, Grim simply rolled his eyes and you two turned to leave.

.

.

.

You went to Mr. Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, uh... you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake long enough to know what class he taught.

It was not for lack of trying either!

He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. The cat: Lucius liked you too, he tended to let you sleep more while waking up other students.

Anyway, in place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….

Obviously. it was Jade. He was part of the Mountain Lovers Club. The sole member actually if you remember right. Crowley mentioned something about the clubs handling the situations. So...

This seemed… handled-ish….

You would be taking your leave now. You closed the door silently and Grim groaned. "This is so boring." He whined, "Why do we have to do this?!" You shrugged slightly.

"Crowley said he'll give an extra allowance this week if we do this." You mumbled, "We could really use it to fix that window you broke." You reminded the cat. He huffed and glared at you a bit childishly, crossing his furry arms silently on your shoulder.

"I thought you said I could have extra tuna?" He realized, jumping off your shoulder he pointed at you in an accusatory manner; you sighed a bit.

You didn’t have time to find him right now. "We can talk about this later." You walked past him but when he didn't follow you, you turned around.

Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!

Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!

This fae would eat him alive!

Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to find the cat and disregard the threat that was getting killed by meeting this Fae kid unarmed. Uncated? Either way.

.

.

.

.

“Someone help me!” You finally heard Grims's voice after looking for him for... quite a while actually. Pushing the door to the classroom open, you found...

Nothing.

Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown nothing was… well anywhere. At least anywhere out of place. “Someone, help me!” A cried out a very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.

This felt like something out of a horror movie.

A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. In his arms was Grim, held tightly like he was a stuffed animal. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…

“Y/n!” Grim cried out, relief flooding his voice and breaking you from the little boy's curse of cuteness.

You plucked Grim from the kid's arms and He crawled onto your shoulders.

“Momma!” The boy, still in the cauldron yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears, and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.

This can't be the same boy running amok in the school's campus. He was just so... non-threatening?

So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him. Grim stared at you bewildered, His experience far more intimidating them yours.

Didn't you know how tight that boy was holding him?! Poor Grim almost didn't make it. He whined and frowned at the attention you were giving the boy.

Now, you just had to take this sweetheart to Crowley.

Either way, the small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure, he may or may not have caused this week's class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it, so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid.

He was using some crayons to draw. He screamed like a bit of a brat when you tried to make him eat some broccoli you got... You thought it would be good for you and grim and neither of you ate it.

His big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.

His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes after you informed Crowley you caught him.

“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a bit confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.

“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.

Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonsense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents, you’d take him in!

Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.

And the window that you still needed to fix and were most likely going to spend this week's allowance on...

The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.

__________________________

He was adorable but children were a handful.

Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, gave you the poor child to take care of. So, you had been living with the child for three whole days.

Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact, he was a sweetheart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes.

He definitely got overwhelmed when left by himself, often resorting to crying and when he cried his magic tended to...

Anyway, Despite the amount of magic he held at his fingertip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards, held onto you tightly, and hide his face in your shirt.

When it was finally time to go to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.

So you brought Casper with you. And it was fine He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.

That was two days ago, now you were in the cafeteria. You hadn't been here in two days because, well you weren't sure if Casper would be okay around the crowd of students. Some of whom were still bitter about the Ice things... and the green fire thing.

“Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere. "I heard a rumor about a trouble make~" He smirked.

“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had before after all, when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boy's affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. Meanwhile, you were staring bewildered at the boy.

And... That was your lunch.

With of course, Ace and Deuce coming to keep you company while Lilia entertained Casper.

Most of your lunch you'd glance at the two. 'Grandpa Lilia?' You wondered why he was unusually not shy? He was a talkative boy to you, but with a stranger, no way... “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes. Oh, maybe Lilia knew the boy's parents! He was an older fae himself, right?

“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well, I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.

That was weird right?

You day went on- Ace and Deuce were good around the kid. Casper was pretty decent around Ace and Deuce, not too shy but he wasn't rambling like he was around Lilia. "Is something on your mind?" Deuce asked curiously, a mild layer of unwarranted concern.

"It's fine..." You shrugged, "I just hope Crowley find Caspers parents soon." You sighed, and the boy in question looked at you confused. He called you Mom and you basically took care of him, so you figured he thought you were his mom.

Not that you really minded, it wasn't like he thought you were old, fae tended to not age and stay good looking forever basically. Case in point, Lilia.

You really didn't mind, you already took care of Grim, so what's another, milder tempered Grim who didn't run away? "Speaking of the kid- Where is he?" Ace asked, looking around.

Scratch that, the kid wondered off.

"Oh no." You sighed and looked at the Adeuce duo with an exhausted look they couldn't say no too. They'd help you find the kid.

__________________________

How on earth did Sebek of all people get Casper?

Sebek, a first year in your class. Some loud guy who you got partnered up with once.

Why didn't Casper run away! You most certainly would and have. Instead, you found Casper on Sebek Zigvolt of all people's shoulders. Now you and Ace were whispering about how to get the kid back. No way you were going to go up to Sebek of all people and have to listen to his "fae are superior" speech... again.

"We should... Lure Casper away with candy." You whispered, Ace gave you a look and shot down your idea.

"Do you want to give him the impression that you should follow random people with candy?" He said looking at you like you just had the worst idea ever. "I say we just grab him and run."

"No, Sebek is faster than us." You noted, "Especially you, he runs laps past you in PE." Ace bumped your shoulder with an eyeroll.

"Where's Deuce?" Ace frowned, you watched with wide eyes as you saw Deuce confidently walk up to Sebek... "oh no." Ace groaned and run up behind Deuce.

You cursed to yourself. "We don't have to follow right...?" you asked the cat who agreed with you, but you knew you kind of had to follow them.

"Hey- Sebek." You smiled awkwardly.

"Mama!" The kid called out to you and reached out towards you. he almost fell off Sebek's shoulders- thankfully you caught him. Sebek looked at you in confusion and maybe a bit judgmentally...?

"No- he isn't..." You sighed and gave up.

"A human couldn't mother a Fae of Caspers caliber!" And so... Sebek began his rant. He started with how Lilia informed him of the situation, and he was here to lift the burden of Casper from your human shoulders.

Really, it saved you the time of informing Sebek you were in fact, not a teen mom. Also, it was weirdly insulting? Like hey, come on, you’ve taken care of him for three days! Almost four, “Casper is pretty happy with me, right sweetie?” You asked the boy who nodded hesitatingly. Wait- hesitantly? “Huh?”

Sebek looked a bit disheartened the Fae kid rejected him, but he was also kind of confused as well. “It’s just… I miss Papa, Mama…” the boys lips quivered a bit.

“No, no! You're not in trouble.” You fell to your knees to comfort the boy.

Apparently Sebek was hanging out with the child because he thought he was Malleus but something went wrong. Perhaps someone used their unique magic in the future ruler of briar valley.

Um… who’s Malleus?

________________

Day four of having a child.

Today you were going to find this kid someone who looked close enough to his dad. I mean, you apparently looked like his mom enough, so… yeah!

Also, perhaps his brother went to this school and that was how he ended up here. Finding him a dad sounded fun though.

It was a solid plan… “Casper?” You woke the boy up. You put Casper in the guest bedroom ace usually occupied when he was collared. Which was often. Even with Riddle being looser on the rules Ace always pushed sadly. “Today we’re finding your father.” You informed the boy.

“Really!” His eyes lit up. Why didn’t you do this sooner?

“Mhm, just tell me what he looks like-“ and so began Caspers rant on how amazing his father was. How he always makes time for you two even though he’s so busy, how good he was at playing superhero’s- and so on.

You didn’t even realize superhero’s existed here. Crazy. “He has black horns like me!” He grinned up at you, “oh- and black hair and we have the same eyes!” He giggled before again going on about how awesome his dad was.

“Horns, black hair, green eyes…” you mumbled, “and you're a fae, so we should probably go to Diasomnia, they have the most fae of the dorms” you smiled brightly. “This Malleus guy seems promising- and if he doesn’t want to, I’ll just make him!” You cheered and with Casper on your shoulders you were out the door!

.

.

.

Was it just you or was Diasomnia slightly terrifying?

 Either way, with Casper on your shoulders like you were going to the zoo, you walked on the winding path with thorns around it and into the dorm. The halls were… very long and castle-like. 

Eventually you found the dorm's common room. Witch had three students, only one of which was a fae. With as much confidence you could muster, you approached them. “Hello! Good evening gentlemen… Um, do you happen to know someone whom this child looks like?” You smiled and proceeded to the kid. 

They very politely actually said that they think he looks like Malleus. You asked them to point you to this Malleus, and they again very politely refused. Apparently he was a busy man which was fair. But he was a father now! If casper deems him fit enough (By that you mean mistake him for his father like the boy did you.)

Still, throughout this process, you couldn't help but wonder if you were forgetting someone. 

You kept glancing at Caspers horns… who else did you know with horns? “Tsunotarou! That's who you look like!” You finally realized after an embarrassingly long time. In your defense you had only met the guy once or twice while you were dealing with Leona’s stupid plan, and didn’t Leona mention Malleus during his overblot?

“That's what you call Papa!” Casper cheered, his eyes widening in awe. Okay so, either that was a common name… which you doubt or Casper had a weird background. 

“Khee Khee what do we have here?” Lilia appeared out of nowhere! …again, still you jumped! 

“Mama is going to find Papa today!” Casper cheered in all his three year old glory. Picking the boy up and lifting him to sit on your hit you nodded. 

“Mhm! I’m going to meet this… Malleus demands he becomes Caspers father or pay child support!” You claim confidently because in reality, you were beginning to doubt the plan you came up with at 3am and woke up early for. “Tsunotarou would be a better bet but I really don’t know where that guy is… or his real name.” you muttered to yourself. 

Either way, Lilia clapped and with a large smile said this: “You're in luck! Malleus just finished his breakfast and should be heading over for his morning coffee.” So, without verbally questioning why he knew that you smiled and plopped down on the common room’s chairs watching a bit nervously as Lilia wandered off again. 

So… You were really dumb. Realistically this was a horrible plan bound to fail, but you already came this far. 

Didn’t all your friends always comment about how scary Malleus was? Wasn’t he like one of the top mages of this world? 

Okay, maybe if you didn’t come up with this plan at 3am last night you wouldn’t be so royally screwed! Hah, get it because Malleus is supposed to be some royal of… a whole nation right? Yeah, this was a bad idea. 

Getting up to leave, you heard Casper cheer for his father.

“Child Of Man?” 

“Tsunotarou?” You turned around, “Actually- no this is better than getting smited by some scary mage! Okay so I have been looking for… you, for a while!” You smiled, “This is our son: casper.” You introduced them. 

“Papa!” 

__________________

“Mm, He does look like me.” Tsunotarou hummed; he knelt beside the child, titling his head curiously as he observed the child. “Your horns are coming in nicely aren't they?” He commented with a small smile, the boy nodded enthusiastically. 

“Mhm! They should be as big as yours soon!” Casper giggled. 

“Your speech is also advanced for a child of your age.” The older boy smiled, It was a very touching sight actually. 

“It is. Ace and Deuce have been helping me teach him some bigger stuff too.” you stated proudly as the younger boy nodded along. You sat beside where the boy stood in front of his new father. Your back against the armrest, you sat planted on the floor. “The headmage said he would be dealing with getting him back home but I have to take care of him till then.” You sighed. 

“I see, so you thought to find me as I am the child's father?” Malleus asked curiously, an eyebrow raised almost teasingly.

“If you’ll believe it, yup.” You nodded along, I mean if he believes that the kid is his, why not get him to take responsibility for that sweet child support money?

“I see, so Crowley is making the proper arrangement to get you back to us in the future.” 

“Wait, so he's actually my kid?” you couldn’t help but blurt out. Tsunotarou merely chuckles. “Am I dumb or are we actually like his parents?” You whispered a bit to Tsunotarou and stood up, he followed after you standing up as well. 

“Mm? Crowely didn’t inform you?” he said with an amused and sly smile. “I suppose it's time anyway we get properly introduced seeing as you are my future spouse” He smirked, his hand on his hips.

“I am Malleus draconia”

__________________________

Fun Fact:

The events of this takes place after Heartslabyul’s and Savanaclaw overblot. So y/n doesn’t know Tsunotarou is Malleus.

Also, Lilia knew all along.

Also, also, I'm sorry this sucked lol

NOTE: Sorry this slightly sucked I didn't really plan to actually finish the WIP I posted it as "Forever unfinished" and people liked it so I thought I'd do this anyway!

________________________ ________________________

Some of Ya'll wanted to be Tagged: @yu-night-raven @kelsyntam @reivelmin @thisisafish123 @cheshire-kitsune @dmiqueles @ranbutler-epicsans-moon @dontmindmelove @swivi @halseyhatter @barbatoss-bitch @itslucieen @bell7duck @whatever-fanfics @ziankenvirus @blcknebula @leilakaro @sarraisme

(I'm not quite sure if I did it right but thank you for liking the WIP enough to comment and want to see another! I hope it was good, I kind of think It wasn't that good but Thats why I made it somewhat long... To compensate!)

[guiltyasdave]

just close your eyes

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one

a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you. 

Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him. 

You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.

Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.

It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.

Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it. 

It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.

If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back. 

You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in. 

They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly. 

You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.

One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down. 

Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice. 

Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play. 

It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last. 

Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before. 

You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV. 

When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face. 

While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel. 

It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest. 

He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside. 

He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it. 

You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.

It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second. 

When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager. 

Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.

The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore. 

Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.

It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?” 

It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body. 

Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like. 

Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago. 

You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs. 

A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips. 

“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features. 

You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat. 

“Yeah no, I– just a second.” 

Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright. 

It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what. 

You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of. 

Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip. 

Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal. 

You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed. 

It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you. 

You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books. 

When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.

Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to. 

Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves. 

You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.

The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[wholoveseggs]

Rules {Part Three}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Three

You head over to Elijah's place, ready to have a fun night together. But when you don't mind your manners, you end up paying the price.

♡♡ Thank you guys so much for all the love for Rules! Its wonderful to know how much we all love his middle part era ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, so smutty, dom!elijah, rough sex, blowjob, choking {the sexy kind and the not so sexy kind}, spanking, doggy, secret affair, lot's of Damon {Stefan will show up in part four}, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, violence, ANGST! angst and more angst ...

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top!

If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy

The apartment building Elijah told you to go meet him at was an old, abandoned building in a shady neighborhood. The hallway was dark and littered with trash and graffiti, the carpet stained and torn, the walls cracked. It was so unlike him, you were worried that you got the address wrong, or that this was some sort of trap.

For the first time in a long time, you felt a tiny bit of fear creep into your heart. But it didn't last long. You liked him, a lot, and he seemed to feel the same way about you. It was all going to work out, you were certain of it.

You reached the last door, 117. Your hands shook slightly, and your stomach was doing flips. You weren't used to feeling like this. You were usually in complete control, but this situation with Elijah was spiraling further and further out of your grasp.

You lifted your hand and knocked on the door, a soft sound, and waited, your breath caught in your throat. A minute later the door opened and Elijah was standing before you, a smile on his lips.

"Miss Salvatore," He greeted, his eyes looking you up and down.

You smiled and entered the apartment, which was the polar opposite of the building. The inside was spotless, and looked like it belonged in a magazine. It was a simple apartment, but everything was high end and luxurious.

"This is a nice place," You commented, looking around the main room, and then at the window, which overlooked the street.

"It suits my needs," He hummed, coming up behind you, his hands sliding around your waist.

You leaned into him, his lips ghosting along your neck. You let out a soft moan, your eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm so glad you are here," He whispered against your neck, his breath hot, his tongue lapping at your skin.

You turned around and placed a kiss on his lips, his hands tightening around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Thank you for saving my brother today," You said softly, your hands going to his tie, undoing it slowly. "I know he can be... antagonistic,"

"Yes, he can be," He chuckled, his hands slipping under your dress, and gripping your ass.

"What are your plans for him?" You asked, a hint of concern in your voice, your hands resting on his chest.

"If he minds his manners, so will I," Elijah hummed, his fingers tracing circles along your lower back, and then lower, teasing the edge of your underwear.

"And Elena?" You pressed, trying to ignore the effect his touch was having on you.

Elijah paused, his hand slipping from under your dress, his expression growing serious. "Rule two, darling,"

"Right," You said quietly, averting your gaze.

"Now," He said softly, his finger lifting your chin. "Where were we?"

You smiled, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. You pushed on his chest, slowly guiding him back towards the sofa, his hands gripping your ass.

His legs hit the back of the couch, and you broke the kiss, pushing him to sit. His eyes darkened as he watched you slowly remove your gloves, shawl and then the rest of your clothes.

You climbed onto his lap, straddling him, your naked body pressed against his clothed form. You loved the contrast, it was so hot.

You unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, exposing his muscular chest. His skin was warm and flushed, your hands exploring the expanse.

You kissed his neck, then his collarbone, moving off his lap as you kissed lower. You undid a button, then pressed your lips to his stomach, his muscles twitching, a low groan escaping him.

You knelt in front of him, kissing his erection through the material of his pants. You unbuckled his belt and pulled the zipper down, freeing his cock. You stroked him slowly, and took the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue.

His head fell back, and his hand tangled into your hair, pulling slightly. You moaned and took more of his length into your mouth, working your hand along the shaft.

"You have the sweetest lips," Elijah groaned, watching the way your mouth wrapped around him.

You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum connecting you to him. You licked up his shaft, your eyes locked with his, and then took his entire cock into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat.

You could tell he was trying to control himself, his breathing was fast and ragged, and his muscles were taut.

You loved hearing him moan, seeing him lose his composure. Sex was one of the few things that could get him to break his stoic facade. He was always such a perfect gentleman and seeing him unravel was a thrill.

He was getting close, you could feel his cock twitching in your mouth, the strained, breathy groans he was making, his hand tightening in your hair.

His phone began to vibrate, and he glanced at it, then dismissed the call. You looked up at him, toying the head of his cock between your lips.

"Don't you need to get that?" You teased, flicking your tongue across the tip.

He shook his head, and his face slowly turned into a grin, his dimples appearing.

"Not right now," He said, his thumb grazing your bottom lip, all swollen and shiny from sucking his cock.

You went back to work, sliding your lips up and down his shaft, your tongue teasing him. Elijah's fingers dug into your scalp, a hiss escaping his lips.

His phone started vibrating again, and he glanced down, his brows furrowing. He picked up his phone and answered it, his eyes fixed on you.

"Yes?" He said, so composed and serious it made you feel like you were doing a bad job.

You took it as a challenge and took his entire length into your mouth, sliding down to the base, then slowly back up. His eyes widened, and he had to bite his lip to keep from making any noise.

"Where?" He asked, his voice sounding strained.

You giggled, and slid your lips down again, bobbing your head quickly, making obscene slurping sounds.

"Yes, I see," He replied, his hand moving from your head, down your back.

He was trying not to react, but you knew how to break him. You moaned, his cock still in your mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through his body.

"No, I'm not available until tomorrow," Elijah said, his jaw clenching.

You kept your pace, and could see the frustration building. Your eyes met his, and you smiled, knowing that you had him just where you wanted him.

"Of course, goodbye," He finished, his hand hanging up the phone and throwing it on the couch.

"Miss-," He started, his tone strained and his chest heaving, Panting and moaning as you sucked his cock.

You let out a soft hum as you watched him unravel. A string of unintelligible curse words fell from his lips, some you swore were in other languages. His eyes screwed shut and his head fell back against the sofa, his hips thrusting forward, and then his release hit him.

He came with a low, strangled groan, and you swallowed every last drop. You continued to lick and suck his cock until his grip loosened and his breathing returned to normal.

You pulled away, his cock slick and shiny, his eyes heavy and his face flush. He looked down at you, swiping his thumb across your lips, then his hand moved to your neck, squeezing gently.

"Good girl," He said softly, his fingers curling around the back of your neck.

You felt your cheeks grow warm from his praise, and a smile played at your lips. The way he looked at you made you feel something deep in your core, something warm and pleasant.

His fingers tangled in your hair and he gently pulled you up and onto his lap. He kissed you softly, his hands moving down your sides, tracing the curve of your waist down to your ass. He grabbed it firmly, squeezing the soft flesh.

He pushed your panties to the side, his fingers slipping between your thighs, teasing you.

"You're so wet, did sucking my cock turn you on?" He murmured, his finger circling your clit, making you shiver.

"Yes," You panted, your hips grinding against his finger.

His fingers moved lower, finding your opening. He teased you, pressing the tip of his finger against you, and then slowly pushing it in.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh as you ground yourself against him, moaning and gasping.

He grabbed the back of your neck with his free hand, pulling you into a kiss, his lips rough and hungry. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your tongues moving together.

He removed his fingers from you, and you let out a soft whimper. Your eyes fluttered open, a pout on your lips, making him chuckle. He brought his hand up and wrapped it around your neck, squeezing gently.

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you," He cooed, his eyes narrowing slightly, the slightest hint of a grin on his lips.

He tightened his grip and you felt the rush of pleasure from the lack of air. Your hips moved slowly, grinding against him, seeking release. You whimpered and dug your nails into his skin.

"You look so beautiful when you're desperate," He whispered, his voice low and raspy.

"Elijah, please," You moaned, your voice breathy and quiet.

"Ride my cock, show me what a good girl you are," He ordered, his grip loosening from around your neck.

You moved up off your knees, planting your feet on either side of him on the sofa, hovering just above him. Your eyes locked with his as you reached between you and grabbed his cock, giving it a few strokes before lining him up with your entrance.

Your breath hitched as you slowly eased down on his cock. His hand squeezed your throat, holding you steady. Your eyes rolled back as he stretched you.

"Look at me," Elijah demanded, his voice low.

You forced your eyes to meet his. His expression was calm, but the fire in his eyes burned so hot you were surprised you didn't combust. You couldn't break eye contact as you began to bounce.

He groaned, enjoying the view of your desperate face as you tried to fuck yourself on his cock. He held you steady by your throat, his thumb brushing back and forth along the side of your neck.

You looked so good in his lap, your breast bouncing, your face contorted with pleasure. He could watch you fuck yourself on his cock all night long, your eyes pleading, begging for more.

His free hand came down and smacked your ass. The sound was loud in the silent apartment, making you yelp. You frowned at him, your hips faltering, but it only made him grin. He smacked your ass again, and this time you moaned.

"You can do better than that, Miss Salvatore," He said, his tone dripping with condescension. 

"Fuck you," You hissed, glaring at him.

"Language," He said firmly, smacking your ass once more, eliciting a squeal.

You began moving faster than any human could, using your vampiric abilities to increase your pace. He watched your eyes close as your pleasure began to build. Your lips were parted slightly, letting out soft squeaks every time you took him all the way.

"That's it," Elijah urged, his hands gripping your waist, helping guide you on his cock.

Your movements started to get more erratic, and you began to pant. You let out a desperate whine, your brows furrowing in concentration, slamming down on him wildly.

He squeezed your throat a little tighter and you fell over the edge, your vision going white. Your nails scraped down his chest, leaving a bloody trail that healed instantly.

Elijah hissed through clenched teeth from the pain and pleasure, your cunt squeezing him like a vice as you came.

He let go of your throat, letting you fall forward, your head resting on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck, planting kisses on his skin. He took your chin, guiding you into a kiss.

He kissed you slowly, then wrapped your legs around his hips and stood up. He carried you down the short hall to the bedroom, then laid you on the bed.

He stood, removing his remaining clothes and admiring how gorgeous you looked in his bed. Your eyes were filled with lust and longing, your lips were swollen from his kisses and you were blushing all the way down your chest.

He leaned down and kissed your breasts, his hands moving under you, lifting you slightly to get better access to them. His tongue swirled around your nipple, his lips sucking it between them, then he moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention.

He moved back up and captured your mouth with his, kissing you deeply. His hair ticked your face, and you ran your fingers through it, loving the feeling of it.

He smiled down at you, brushing the hair from your face, and then kissed you again, this time soft and sweet. You returned the kiss, smiling against his lips.

His hands moved down your sides, stopping at your hips. His eyes met yours, a glint of mischief in them, then he quickly flipped you over, making you gasp.

He positioned you on all fours, your head buried in the bed. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you back and up, exposing your ass to him.

"Mm, that's a nice view," He commented, running his hand over the swell of your ass, giving it a squeeze.

"Are you just going to admire it or are you gonna fuck me?" You asked impatiently, looking back at him, you pushed back against him, eager to feel him inside you again.

He grinned and gave your ass a light smack. He leaned over your, pressing your head into the pillow, his lips grazing your ear.

"Do your brothers know how much of a whore you are?" He taunted, kissing along the back of your neck.

You were offended by his remark, you didn't expect those words to come out of his mouth. You gave him a scathing look and tried to move away from him.

He chuckled and grabbed your hips, pulling you back against him. His hand tangled in your hair, tugging your head back so you were looking up at him.

"My apologies, Miss Salvatore," He said sarcastically, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Is that too crass for you?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, and he leaned down and kissed you. It was a soft kiss, his lips barely brushing against yours, and then he deepened it, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

His hips were pressed into you, his hard cock resting between your ass cheeks. You pushed back against him, grinding against his erection, causing him to groan.

He broke the kiss, his hand still holding your hair, and straightened up. He looked down and guided his cock into you, pushing slowly, his grip on your hair tightening as he eased all the way in.

You let out a breathy moan as he set a slow pace, fucking you with long, deep strokes. You rocked back against him, trying to match his rhythm, but he had you at his complete mercy.

"Faster," You begged, looking back at him, biting your lip.

He gave a small shake of his head, a smirk playing at his lips. He let go of your hair, and you buried your face in the sheets, letting out a muffled whine.

You tried to pick up the pace, pushing back harder, but his hand came down, smacking your ass, causing you to squeal.

"Did I say you could do that?" Elijah chided, his hand caressing the stinging skin.

You turned your head and glared at him, but remained still, letting him fuck you however he wanted. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging in, and his thrusts sped up.

Elijah admired the way your dark hair cascaded down your back, the way the muscles in your shoulders tensed up, and the way the skin of your back shined with sweat. When your bright blue eyes looked at him with such a desperate pleading, he couldn't help but let his control falter a little bit.

He gripped your hips tighter and began to pound into you. He leaned forward, caging you under him, his lips brushing your ear. You panted and moaned, clawing at the sheets as he slammed into your mercilessly.

He kissed the crook of your neck and across your shoulder, then up to your ear, biting down on your earlobe.

"Are you going to come for me?" He whispered.

You nodded, your eyes closed, completely lost in pleasure. You felt it building inside of you, and the way he was groaning, his hot breath on your ear, his chest pressed against your back, it was all too much.

Your body went rigid, your mouth opening in a silent moan. The wave crashed over you, and the tension left your body.

His release followed, a long, low groan escaping his lips. You felt him spill inside of you, his hips stuttering, and his cock pulsing.

He collapsed beside you, his arms draped above his head, he had a big toothy grin on his face that you had never seen before.

"You seem awfully happy," You teased, resting your head on his chest, kissing his collarbone.

"It has been a long time since I've had the opportunity to enjoy myself so thoroughly," He replied, stroking your hair.

"Glad I could help," You teased, smiling up at him.

He leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle. His hands moved to your back, rubbing slow circles.

"What was that phone call about?" you asked after a few minutes, looking up at him, your head resting on his chest.

Elijah's body tensed slightly, and his hand moved down your back. "Nothing you need to worry about,"

"If I don't need to worry, why won't you tell me?" you pressed.

"Do I have to remind you of the rules again?" He asked, his tone teasing.

"No," you mumbled, lowering your gaze, a pang of guilt hitting you. "I'm sorry.... It's just.... I don't know," you buried your face in the crook of his neck, the feeling of his arms around you comforting.

You knew you were playing with fire, but in the afterglow of sex, your thoughts came tumbling out of you before you could stop yourself.

"I know we agreed, this was just going to be physical," you said slowly, looking up at him. "And that's okay... I just want...." You paused, biting your lip, and averting your gaze, feeling embarrassed. "I just want to get to know you a bit better,"

His hands went still on your back, and he sat up a bit, looking at you for a moment before he spoke. "Why?"

You shrugged, feeling foolish. "I just do,"

"There is no need to get to know me," Elijah replied, his tone more serious now, his expression unreadable. "Our arrangement has no strings attached, as per the rules."

"Do you really want that?" You mumbled, the question made you feel so vulnerable, you were not sure what he would say.

You held your breath as he looked at you, and then leaned in and kissed your cheek gently, his hand caressing your face.

"I want many things, but I can't have them all," He answered quietly.

For a moment he looked sad, almost remorseful. But you must have imagined it, he was composed once again, the wall he kept around himself now fully in place.

You looked down at his chest, unsure what to say. It felt like your heart was breaking. It was just sex. This wasn't a relationship. You both had rules for a reason. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"But you can stay, if you'd like," He offered, there was a quiet vulnerability to his voice and a strange look in his eyes. You didn't know what it meant.

"I'd like that," You whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. "But it isn't a good idea,"

"It's not," he agreed, his hands still rubbing your back.

"So, we shouldn't," You said, trying to convince yourself.

"No," He agreed, rolling the two of you over, so you were beneath him. "We shouldn't,"

He kissed you again, slow and sweet. His hands moved down your sides, tracing the curve of your hips.

"We shouldn't," You repeated, your hands sliding down his chest, resting on his stomach.

Neither of you were going to stop, both of you knew it. It wasn't a good idea, and you would regret it later, but right now, all you wanted was him.

The sound of the early morning birds woke you before the sun could. You had fallen asleep next to him, after he had worked every tense bit out of you, your body saitied and relaxed. 

You rolled over to see him fast asleep next to you, his brows slightly furrowed, his lips parted. He seemed to be having an intense dream, perhaps even a nightmare. He mumbled something you couldn't understand and rolled onto his side.

A part of you wanted to wake him, to free him from whatever was haunting him. To kiss away the tension in his brow. To bring him back to a place of peace and comfort. To run your fingers through his hair, and feel him relax in your arms.

But you couldn't. You had work to do.

Carefully pulling away from him and climbing out of bed, you quickly dressed before you tiptoed down the hallway to the living room.

You did your best to be quiet, control your breathing, trying not to let fear overtake you. This was your opportunity, perhaps the only chance you would ever get, but the fear was so strong, your whole body was vibrating.

You glanced towards the bedroom, making sure he hadn't woken, and then walked towards the sofa. Bending down, you searched between the cushions until you found what you were looking for.

The moonstone.

It was surprisingly easy to slip it out of his pocket the night before, you had him so thoroughly distracted with his cock down your throat. Even a man like Elijah was susceptible to lust, and you played him like a fiddle.

Your fingers curled around the stone and you clutched it to your chest, it was smooth and oddly cold. It felt heavy in your palm, more than what it actually weighed.

You were doing the right thing, for your family, for your friends. So why did you feel so guilty?

This would be a betrayal. The rules you set together were important, you had to have rules to protect yourselves, so you could stay neutral. What you were doing wasn't neutral, and if he found out...

You let out a shaky breath and tucked the stone into your bra, before you slowly, and as calmly as you could, walked to the door.

But before you could reach the handle, the floor creaked, and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end.

"Miss Salvatore," Elijah said.

His tone was calm, but you could hear the underlying fury. You swallowed hard, unable to look at him, you stared at the door instead.

"Where are you going?" His voice sounded different. Dark. Dangerous.

You turned slowly to see him standing a few feet away. He was dressed, his suit immaculate as always, and his expression was stoic. The only thing out of place was his hair, which was mussed from sleep.

"Home," you managed to say, your voice sounding more confident than you felt.

"Really?" He asked, taking a step towards you.

Your instincts told you to run, that you were in danger. The predator had caught the prey, and was going to tear you apart. You subtly tried to reach for the door handle behind you, but you saw his dark eyes flicker to your hand.

His face broke out into a smile, his canines flashing, his eyes cold. He closed the distance between the two of you in the blink of an eye. One moment he was across the room, the next, his hands were wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the door.

His face was blank, and yet you could see something dark swirling behind his eyes. He had become an entirely different man than the one you had been with all night.

The pressure he had on your windpipe made your lungs burn. You clawed at his forearms, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gasped for air.

"Elijah," you managed to croak out, but there was no trace of sympathy in his eyes, they were cold, sharp and angry.

"Do you think I'm like one of those boys in the alleyway? That you could use me, and walk away with no consequences?" He growled, his fingers pressing even tighter.

"No-" You tried to choke out, your voice coming out barely more than a whisper. "Please..." You whimpered, feeling dizzy, the edges of your vision going black.

He let you fall to the ground in a heap, your knees hitting the hardwood floor with a painful crack. You took deep, rasping breaths, coughing and gasping. You looked up at him, your whole body trembling.

He was standing there, towering over you, his expression blank. There was nothing on his face that could indicate that he had been tenderly holding you hours earlier. No softness in his gaze.

He just held out his hand expectantly, the look on his face making it clear that you should obey.

Slowly, you pulled the stone from your bra and handed it to him. Your hand shook as you reached out, placing the stone in his palm. He curled his fingers around the stone and tucked it back into his pocket.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you stared up at him in fear, was he going to torture you? Kill you? You were a fool to think you could ever outsmart him, to ever betray him.

You swallowed hard, and forced yourself to make eye contact. He reached down, his hand gripping your chin roughly, lifting you up, forcing you to your feet.

You felt his eyes searching yours, and the hand on your throat moved up, his thumb brushing your cheek. He brought his face close to yours, his lips ghosting over yours. It was equally intimidating and intimate.

"I thought we had an understanding," he said softly, his lips brushing against yours.

"We do," You whispered, unable to tear your eyes from his.

His thumb traced your lower lip, and then he kissed you. Softly and slowly, and you kissed him back, your tears mixing with his, and all you could taste was pain.

Then he released you and stepped away, his arm stretched in the direction of the front door.

"Leave," he said simply, looking away from you. "And if I see you again, I'll kill you,"

You were too shocked to move, and after a moment, he looked back at you, his gaze icy.

"Run along now, Miss Salvatore," he said, the threat clear in his voice.

You took one last look at him, before stumbling your way out the door. You raced out of the building, only stopping to breathe once you made it outside. You leaned against the cool brick of the building, tears streaming down your face, gasping for air, trying to get the taste of him out of your mouth.

The taste of him... the touch of him, his words... You could still feel them all over you, it felt like you would never escape them.

You felt guilt, shame and embarrassment. You were lucky he didn't rip your heart out of your chest. You put yourself in this foolish situation, and you paid the price.

This is what happens when you break the rules.

When you arrived home, all the lights were still on, but the house was eerily quiet. You wandered into the living room and saw Damon sitting on a lounge chair, casually sipping on a glass of bourbon, looking into the fireplace.

He didn't look at you, just continued staring into the flames. "Big night?"

You were not in the mood for a family lecture. You shrugged off your coat and draped it over the couch, running your fingers through your messy hair, trying to smooth it.

"Not really," You said, walking over to the liquor cart, pouring yourself a glass.

Damon looked up at you and he could immediately tell you were upset.

"Did someone hurt you?" He asked, his tone concerned.

"No one can hurt me, Damon," You snapped.

He looked at you, and raised his eyebrow. "You're sure about that?"

You looked away from him, unable to meet his gaze. Your relationship with Elijah was a secret, you weren't supposed to know each other, so you couldn't tell him. You wanted to come home with the moonstone in hand, to prove that you could help, to prove your worth, but you failed.

"Why do you care so much about who I fuck?" You shot back.

Damon laughed and set down his glass, shaking his head.

"I'm your big brother," he said, smiling.

"Stefan is my big brother too, " You said, crossing your arms. "And he minds his business,"

"Yes, well, that's Stefan for you," He said, a hint of bitterness to his voice.

You rolled your eyes and took a long sip of your drink, the vision of Elijah's cold expression flashed in your mind, but you quickly pushed it down. "Where is Stefan anyway?"

"He's on a lovely lakeside getaway with Elena," Damon answered, a hint of annoyance to his voice.

You suppressed the desire to tease him about how he said Elena's name, it was clear that he had feelings for her. When you first met Elena, you feared it was another Katherine situation, but she pleasantly surprised you, and she didn't seem interested in Damon in that way. At least not yet.

"Do you know about the deal she made with Elijah?" he asked.

"Deal?" You asked, your heart jumping a little at the mention of his name.

"In exchange for her staying put and willingly going to the slaughter, he will protect the rest of us from any enemy," Damon practically growled as he said it.

"She should have never made that deal," you said, shaking your head.

"Thank you! I feel like I'm the only one who isn't insane around here," He groaned.

"She should have known better, but what's done is done," You sighed, taking a sip of your drink, wishing it was blood instead.

"You know, if you had been around, you could have talked some sense into her," he muttered, glaring at you.

"Don't," You snapped, giving him a warning look.

"Don't what?"

"Blame me, Damon," You said, your tone firm.

"What have you been doing for the last month? You are gone all the time, and the rest of the time, you are completely checked out," He accused.

You went to argue, to confess, and yet, you couldn't. It was none of his business, and besides, what would you even say? You’ve been fucking Elijah and then tried to steal from him? That you are heartbroken and foolish? That you are a coward?

"You're right, I'm sorry," You said quietly. "I've just been trying to... figure some stuff out,"

He studied you for a moment and then gave a short nod.

"Fine," he said, his voice softer now. "I get it,"

You went over to sit next to him on the sofa. What you needed in that moment was honest affection, someone who wasn't judging or asking questions. Damon wasn't exactly a warm and fuzzy type, but he would hold you when you were sad, and that's all you needed.

"You're a good big brother," You said, leaning against him, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I've been distant,"

He wrapped his arm around you, and held you against him. "It's ok,"

You both sat in silence for a few moments, and you closed your eyes, trying not to think about the events of the night, the taste of Elijah still lingering on your tongue. The feeling of his hand wrapped around your neck… The fear you had felt.

"So, tell me about the boy," He teased, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"What?" You asked, your eyes snapping open.

"Oh, come on," He chuckled.

"It's over," You sighed, taking another sip.

"That bad, huh?" He asked.

"It's for the best," You mumbled.

"Do you need me to take care of him?" Damon offered, his voice serious.

"No, he didn't do anything wrong," You sighed, finishing the rest of your drink. "It was just... complicated,"

"I know a little bit about that," Damon mumbled, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"Elena?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up," He whined, pushing you off of him, making you laugh.

You contemplated just going to bed, but you decided to stay up with Damon. He would never admit it, but he was lonely, and so were you. You needed someone to ground you, and the two of you could always find comfort in each other.

"How can I help?' You asked, turning your body to face him, tucking your legs under you.

He raised an eyebrow. "You want to help me?"

"Yes, I need to feel useful," You laughed.

"Well, maybe I have a couple things you could do," He said, his eyes lighting up, which usually meant he had something devious planned.

"What is it?" You asked.

"Just a bit of catering, I’ll leave you in charge of picking out the wine..." He trailed off, looking thoughtful.

"What?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I may have a weapon stashed away that could take out an Original," he said, smirking at you.

"From who? How?..." You shook your head, trying to wrap your mind around what he was saying.

"Don't worry about it," He chuckled.

"But, I thought-"

"Yes, yes, the deal Elena made with Elijah. We need a backup plan. I'm not going to wait around for her to be killed," He said, shaking his head.

"What does Stefan think?" You asked.

"What do you think he thinks? He's in denial, of course," He sighed, rolling his eyes.

"So what's your plan? Why does it involve wine?" You asked.

"Because it's a party, silly," he smiled, looking far too excited about murder.

"So, we're going to invite Elijah over, and kill him?"

"Yeah, pretty much," he said casually.

You tried not to think of the way Elijah touched you, his soft, tender kisses. Now all you could see was the look in his eyes when he found out that you betrayed him. The hurt and anger in his eyes... And his threat that you knew he would make good on.

If I see you again, I'll kill you.

"Is it even possible?" You asked, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Possible?" Damon scoffed. "We'll make it happen,"

You gave him a small nod and a smile, trying to show confidence. "Ok..."

He smiled and patted your leg, before standing up.

"Get some sleep, little sister. Tomorrow is a big day, tomorrow we dine with the devil,"

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}

[avalordream]

Prompt: Imagine you get isekaied in Our Life. Only thing is that you wake up as a child and remember everything. You can only save at this point but you can still access the save and load menu and see your previous runs.

Meanwhile your precious neighbor is slowly becoming self aware, getting deja vu with every passing second- as if this has all happened before...

A/N: A few days after I posted this- a few other thoughts came to mind- SO HERE IS MY ATTEMPT AT VOCALIZING THEM

You’re keenly aware of how small and tiny you are the moment you wake up. 

For the first few days, you started to acclimate to…the family home. 

It wasn’t YOUR family though. It never was. It was MC’s. Not your’s.

You could project all you wanted onto MC but it was never your family or your life to experience. It was theirs.

Even so, you quickly found yourself missing the life you were used to. More specifically:

The cuisine.

It was hard not to draw suspicion to the fact that you were craving different food genres aside from Mom’s Pamela’s mac and cheese and cheeseburgers. 

Ma’s Noelani’s Hawaiian food helped quite a bit to hold you over as you started to ponder over how to approach it.

Kind of hard to bring it up to your MC’s parents that you wanted Asian/Middle eastern/Indian/Pakistani/Mexican/etc food when there was none of that for miles around

For the time being, you had to quietly hint and nudge their thoughts into that direction but not enough to make them suspicious. Noelani obviously had her suspicions about Cove getting into the house from Step 2-3 but never brought it up once. From what you could tell, she was scary observant

Another issue was how clumsy your new body was.

Your mind might be able to remember how to do everyday tasks like writing and such but this tiny body didn’t have the muscle memory to match it

Much to Liz’s dismay, you spent quite a bit of your time forcing your hands and legs to train to do things your adult body could do in a snap

Time wise- technology was a huge sucker punch. It made you feel bad for taking your own devices for granted. 

That being said, self learning everything was going to be hard without a phone or computer on hand, especially knowing that you’d have to go through the cursed education system all over again- but most likely much harder

There had to be a reason older folk complained about it, right?...

Your MC’s birthday was the same as your own, just that the birth year is 1997. That being said, the current year was 2006… Funny. You were only two in 2006…

…

Back to self learning, you tried to practice what you considered basic math long after everyone had fallen asleep

Usually, your day was filled with entertaining Shiloh and Liz, playing in the park or going along with whatever Liz said. Judging by the giant for sale sign across the street and the date, you figured out that you got isekaied roughly at least a month or two before Cove and Mr. Holden would move in. 

Who knew how that would go now that you weren’t subjected to just three choices?

Even after playing around, your body was exhausted and your baby mind was just as pooped out.

The first few days you would wake up early as children do and tried doing your math and remembering as much as you could at that time

Yeah, Liz nearly gave you a heart attack after she barged in and you had to play it off as you scribbling absolute nonsense cause you were bored

After that near collision, you changed your prep time to being at night. Sure, you woke up to Liz shaking you and not getting enough sleep in the morning, but you needed to refresh your memory the best you could

You couldn’t do it every night though and did your best to keep some sort of schedule so you wouldn’t forget - and worry your MC’s moms

They noticed the first few times of how sleepy you’d be when you’d wake up later than usual - granted if Liz didn’t wake you up - and a few nights after, you nearly got caught right in the middle of your review.

Pam was more sneaky than Noelani, so you should’ve seen this coming- but even so, you had everything spread out on your rug when you just barely heard her footsteps come to your MC’s door

You had enough time to shove everything underneath your bed - your room was messy enough but better safe than sorry - and quickly dive under the covers before you heard your door open with the softest of clicks

She was around for a good while before you heard the door close again but you didn’t relax until you were sure her footsteps went back to the master bedroom

After that, you were much more careful about how long you spent studying and when. You haven’t been caught since.

Occasionally, you’d have to sneak in your MC’s parent’s room to grab any books that you needed. Good thing Noelani was a book nerd.

You did have to be careful about your self learning- you didn’t want them getting any suspicions that their kid was suddenly…different out of nowhere.

You had no idea what MC was like as a kid before the events of Our Life so you tried your best to piece together what you could 

Speaking of, there were a bunch of things you quickly realized about Our Life, one of which is that game didn’t go over nearly everything that MC went through, let alone before Cove came or others that it only touched on briefly

For example, the tourists that came and went every year happened to be close friends of Pamela’s from her time in university, hence why they were so friendly to you and Liz in particular. 

It was also why they knew how to… handle your ever changing moods. At least-

That’s what it looked like to them.

To you- it was because you had to battle MC’s initial responses to these scenarios.

Go figure, this body still had its fair share of emotions inside of it, leaving you to figure out if this sharp pang of fear or worry was your own or not.

It left you second guessing everything you did, especially when you’d be up at night, studying and practicing your writing

It seriously irked you, knowing your writing was sloppy even though you knew this body couldn’t help it. It didn’t make seeing your scrappy writing less frustrating though

Despite how much you tried to hide how YOU felt, not MC, Noelani still picked up on the small shifts in your behavior. 

One of these being the irritation you harbored for your writing. 

Speaking of emotions, you found your body easily overwhelmed by any stronger ones- your own irritation making you cry- an alien feeling and one that took even you by surprise.

Worse part? The first time happened was in front of Noelani when she tried to help you practice your penmanship

Naturally, she tried to comfort you MC by trying to console you, saying it’d be better with practice and wiping away your tears but no matter how YOU tried, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing

It wasn’t until much later that you realized that MC’s tiny self had their own limits and by pushing those adult feelings and expectations that YOU had onto it sent it into a messy overdrive.

After that, you had learned to slow down- the world wasn’t ending…even if it felt like it.

…

The nail in the coffin for you that made YOU cry. Not MC’s body: Your dreams started to resemble parts of your life. 

You’d dream that you were back at your desk job or filling out mundane paperwork but no matter how boring it’d be, it was YOUR life.

The one YOU were used to and familiar with

You’d always feel so relieved to be back where you were supposed to, whether you were happy with that life or not

It was that feeling of having all your choices in your hand and being in control of where you wanted to go, if that made sense.

Nobody made those choices for you except well…you.

Only to have that feeling of familiarity ripped away once you registered Liz waking you up to play while “Ma and Mom snooze the day away!”

…

You just want to go home…

To YOUR home…

-> Next... <-

-> Extras <- ⊹ ‧₊˚ Isekai Self Aware Taglist: @lilqi @annoying-mary @mellozhi ˚₊‧ ⊹

[yandere-sins]

“he follows until you are pressed to the cold wall, his arm around you, pulling you back so you wouldn’t have to be cold all night”

this made me remember that bed post, of how couples sleep Vs how single ppl sleep. Single ppl often have their bed up against the wall, cause it saves space and they don’t need to worry about falling off the bed, while couple usually have their bed in the middle with the headboard against the wall and the sides not touching anything, and that makes it easier for one of them to get up without having to disturb the other. This made me think… it would be such a yandere thing to do to have the bed pressed up against the wall anyways, so their darling can’t leave without them knowing or waking up. It just feels like such a subtly controlling action, where the darling wouldn’t be able to even go to the washroom in the middle of the night without the yandere allowing it. I mean, they prob would have had to wake up the yandere anyways if the yandere hugs them in their sleep, but this is still make the darling feel even more confined mentally, because they know that there is no way that they could sneak out so they would stress over whether they should wake up the yandere or if they would be able to tolerate it till morning comes. It makes you wonder if the yandere did it on purpose or by accident, especially if the yandere lives in a spacious house so there is no actual need to press the bed against the wall… ah, I just think it makes for a very nice small detail in this kind of scenario ☺️

(Sorry if this is rambling, I just woke up so my brain is muddled lol)

I haven't heard about that theory before! But it makes sense, now that I think about it :D

(Warning: Yandere, Sexual Mentions)

I can totally see yans taking advantage of that. Two entrances to the same bed are just taking up sooo much space (even if the room is completely empty otherwise, hehe). Why not make sure the darling has to do impossible aerobics to get on top and over their captor if they want to get out? Oh, the darling is such a tease, accidentally loosing their footing and waking the yandere with the beautiful sight of their darling on top of them. And then there's the wonderful spiel of:

"I just need to go to the toilet."

"Sure you do, darling."

Even if he yan knows the truth they just grip their darling's waist, keeping them in place and teasing them a little before allowing them to finally get off their captor and to the bathroom, the yan always following of course, yawning but excited to be up with their darling.

Or the very clingy yans that cannot imagine sleeping separately from their darling, even if the darling is sweating bullets because it's so damn hot in the room and locked in the yan's arms around them. They already abstain from drinking before going to bed, knowing they won't be able to free themselves of the yan's hold, so now they just hope to pass out from heatstroke or dehydration 'cause they are so fucking tired but can't sleep.

And then, of course, there's the aspect of being able to watch their darling all night long. It might take them a while with their captor staring down at them for hours to no end. How could they sleep with their sweet love right next to them? Pass up the chance to leave fluttering touches all over their bodies and whisper sweet nothings into their ear while they dream (hopefully of the yandere)? Never! They're just looking out for you—protecting you even! But the pleasure is all theirs, and the yan soaks up ever little utter or whimper from their darling, drunk on the vulnerable sight of their most precious darling. ♥

Oh, and can you imagine, those really mean yandere that drug their darlings? They are so freaking overjoyed when their darling is searching for any kind of comfort, after the yan put them into bed, while their brain is a huge mess. Darlings that cry and sob, but then bury their face in the yan's chest and the yan just instantly has a huge grin on their face as they pat their darlings head and rub their back, telling them everything is okay. They try to be empathetic but they just can't stop grinning, loosing their freaking mind from excitement. Yans who get so fucking hard/wet from their darling inching as close as possible to them, scared of some imaginary monsters they are trying to hide from, not realizing the monster is right in front of them.

Last but not least, sharing a bed doesn't just mean sharing a mattress. There's also just one blanket and one pillow, and the darling will be forced to stay near and rest their head on the yan's arm or chest. There's no escaping that, so they'll eventually admit defeat due to being so tired. But the morning after is when things get really interesting. When the mood shifts from sleepy to horny real quick, the yan not wanting to lose the warmth they shared all night, as always insatiable for their darling.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts!

[janetsboys]

gally x female reader pleaseeee anything

here you go baby

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❀ characters: gally x fem!reader

❀ A/N: i’m so sorry for the amount of time it took me to post this

❀ summary: y/n has been in the Glade for three months, she’s a Builder, but she doesn’t get why her boss hates her.

❀ warnings: can’t think of any

english is not my first language<3

.:｡✿*ﾟ‘ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ’ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ¨ﾟ✎･ ✿.｡.:* *.:｡

❀ ❀ ❀

“Why do you even care so much about what this jerk thinks about you?” Newt asks you as you’re both sat under a tree during your work break.

“I don’t know, we spend our days together and I just, I just wanted him to like me but every single thing i do makes him angry!” you say agitating your hands in incomprehension.

“He hates everyone, pretends he likes his friends, and he doesn’t like you because you get attention for being the only girl in here. He knows everyone likes you.” Newt was your best friend and always brutally honest with you, which was why you loved him so much.

You were looking at the grass under the “sun”light when a tall shadow came up to you and Newt. “Hey, it’s ten minutes break not five hours so get your ass back to the cabin.”

Gally was looking down on you, talking to you with a severe tone as usual. You in fact didn’t know why you wanted him to like you. He’s your boss and you spend all your days with him, you thought maybe you could see something behind his cold personality because weirdly, he didn’t intimidate you. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like you.

You were fixing a fence for the Slicers to keep the livestock in the Glade when you heard Gally saying there was a bonfire tonight. You thought that would be the perfect occasion to try to make friends with him. Though you didn’t want to chase him down and beg for friendship, it was your last try.

When the night started and you joined the gladers at their little celebration for being alive another day (that’s what you guessed), you didn’t know everyone perfectly well yet. You liked Zart because he was really nice to you, you liked Ben and Minho cause they were unintentionally funny to you, and Newt was your favorite of course.

You looked around to find someone you know because you didn’t want to be in the middle of all the boys by yourself and also, you don’t like all the attention being on you (— which was unfortunate since the attention was always on you).

Minho waved at you with a straight face because he saves his smiles for rare occasions. You felt relieved as you walked to him sitting alone but you also felt a huge pressure as if someone was looking at you.

“Hey, how is this bonfire going so far for you?” Minho kindly asked giving you a cup of a weird drink, “Well, i like parties, i think i do, at least. I’d like to know everyone here but apparently, not everybody wants me here.” you respond taking a sip before making a face.

“Gally again?” Minho said exhaling, “I know i shouldn’t care but it makes me upset.” you say sitting next to him, sighing.

“Don’t worry, it’ll come. He’ll end up liking you just like we all do because, there’s absolutely no reason to hate you.” he kindly answers with a little smile. Your best friends really treated you well for the past three months because, even though they couldn’t understand how it was to be a girl in a world of boys, they knew how hard it was for them when they arrived here. They could only imagine it was harder for you.

“Thank you.” you say with a tiny smile before resting your head on his shoulder. You knew Minho wasn’t really the one to say kind words to everybody. Or the one to accept a head on the shoulder easily, but he let you.

“Hey Newt.” you saw him walking up to you with a huge cup, “Do you guys want to taste THIS?” he said laughing like he knew something you didn’t. “That thing has to hold a deadly virus.” Minho said before you added “No thank you, i’d rather stay alive.” slightly giggling.

Newt then turned around to look at everybody then told you; “The hell is he staring at?”, “Who?” you answered a bit concerned. “Gally.” Newt said laughing again, “Maybe he doesn’t hate you that much after all.”

“You know what? I’m gonna talk to him and we’ll see if tomorrow he still hates me.” you reposted getting up to go there. “He doesn’t hate you!” you hear Newt add as you walk away. Always the devils advocate, always staying positive for some reason.

You felt a little stressed out, your hands were slightly shaking as you got closer to him while he was focused on laughing with his friends and drinking, you started regretting but you were too far into your mistake to go back. Of course, the alcohol in your blood made you braver which was good in this situation.

You sat next to him as if it was totally normal. “Hey, Gally, this drink is really good. I heard the recipe was a secret.” you boldly told him putting hair behind you ear, trying to look confident.

“Thanks. What are you doing here? Your boyfriend and your lil’ best friend must miss you already.” He says loudly as all his Builder friends laugh (— they laughed like that was the funniest thing ever, i think they laugh at everything Gally says).

“I don’t have a boyfriend, i have good friends though. And some guys seem to dislike me for unknown reasons, they miss out on a lot of fun.” you smile, looking really friendly and nice. You’re not trying to seem patronizing or something. That would only make him despise you.

“So, Gally, you want us to go get another drink?” he stares at you for a while before getting up to follow you. Your legs shake from stress as he walks besides you.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything about you?” you break the short silence. “There’s nothing to say.” he coldly answered. “Oh come on, you like building and fighting, what else do you like?” “Having a purpose. And a home. I guess.” he finally opens up a little bit more to you. You feel a small smile growing on your face, breaking the ice.

“Great, you know what, I like that too. We have a common point, see?” he stops walking when you finish talking.

“You know, (y/n), i didn’t like all the changes you brought with you. Everything was new when you arrived in that box.” he says looking at you. “And you hate change, i get it. I’m sorry.” you say smiling again. You finally started to understand what kind of guy he was, he needed stability, and control.

“It’s not your fault, we made those adjustments for you and you turned out to be a Builder. I think it is- nice to have you with us.” wow, Gally was complementing you? That made you blush for a reason you ignored. You then started walking again towards the drinks. “I’m glad to work with you guys too. It’s tough for me but i try to stay positive and fit in, you know?” you confess to your new friend.

Maybe his drink convinced him you weren’t that annoying after all. He handed you a glass of whatever that was and you walked back to the others to sit down with them.

You relaxed a little bit and started making jokes, your coworkers were really dumb (most of them) but pretty funny and nice even though they were kind of onerous sometimes — as you are a girl and of course it means there are a lot of inappropriate jokes they’re allowed to make.

You knew Alby made it very clear no one was allowed to touch you, or go too far, so you felt safe with them. You knew teenagers like them wouldn’t hurt you, even the dumbest ones.

Surprisingly, you started laughing with Gally, he was actually chill in parties, unlike the bossy guy you knew at work and also in the glade in general. Maybe those nights were important to him because it was a traditional thing, you were staring at him as he told a story about Zart, that you never heard before.

You didn’t know why exactly but you needed to analyze his face, you liked the way his eyes moved and the way he smiled telling that anecdote. You bursted out laughing at the exact same time the other Builders did, he was a good storyteller.

When everybody started separately talking, you looked at Gally and spoke, pretty loudly so he could hear you “You’re a good storyteller” you smiled, he leaned over a bit, to hear you “What?” he asked smiling, you put your hand on his arm and got closer to his ear, you were more confident, you felt like you usually do when you’re with Next and Minho. “I said you’re a good storyteller” you chuckled slightly.

He pulled away and looked at you, he was smiling way more now that you guys had talked. Now that you knew he didn’t exactly hate you. “Really?” you nodded, and he stood up and you tilted your head slightly.

He held his hand out, you took his hand without hesitation and walked with him.

You walked in the Glade without really knowing where you wanted to go, you chuckled as you talked about the story he told.

“Did he really wake up with those drawings on his face?” “He really did, and he stayed like that the whole day.” he laughed.

You sat down together at the end of a tree, you were both a bit tired but you still wanted to talk.

“You’ve been here three years, right?” you say looking at the trees around you. The “moon”light made everything look peaceful in the Glade.

Gally nodded “Three years.” he said staring at a random tree. You looked at him “Do you think they’ll find a way out?” you ask, you still had the innocence of being here for three months, because you had no idea how it felt for them. This was the only home he’d ever known.

He shrugged, “I don’t think anything, I wait.” you looked down, you wondered everyday why you were all here, why you were the only girl, why didn’t you remember your life.

“Do you think we like, knew each other out of the Glade? In our other lives, i mean.” you look back at the trees, not noticing he had turned his head to look at you. “You think we were friends or something?” he asked then continued, “maybe we were like- high school enemies.”

You giggled and looked at him “I’m sorry but you must’ve been a bully.” he nodded chuckling “Alright alright i’ll give you that one. You must’ve been the girl that talked back to teachers but still had good grades.” you laughed at his statement, you had thought so many times about what your life could’ve been like outside the Glade.

Somehow, you always thought you used to know Gally. “I’m almost sure I knew you.” you say, looking in front of you, your two bodies sitting pretty close to each other. He turned his head to look at you. “Is that why you wanted to be my friend here?” he wondered, he’d always been curious about you, he just never admitted it.

You nodded then answered “I think…Maybe i was looking for comfort and landmarks. I thought maybe what i felt towards you was that research of something. Because i couldn’t let go of the past even if i didn’t remember anything.”

He was listening closely to every word you said, you didn’t think he’d want to understand you and genuinely listen. He nodded “So, i was like, a magnet and you were metal?” he said sounding surprisingly soft and warm.

You giggled slightly looking at him “Yeah, that’s it. That’s why i didn’t want you to hate me.” you smiled. He shook his head “I never hated you, i was just, scared, i guess.” you could hear the slight shake in his voice, because you paid so much attention to details.

You heard him say i guess and he was trying to make his fear seem like nothing, but it mattered to you. “I think, you had every right to be scared.” you said with a gentle tone, nodding your head slightly.

You kind of just, looked into each other’s eyes for a while, it was like there was some sort of connection between you, you felt seen. The real you, the one you didn’t even remember.

He leaned towards you, you stopped thinking, you stopped hearing the loud thoughts and worries in your mind, he carefully placed his huge hand on your face, you closed your eyes as he tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips against you.

That was both of y’all’s first kiss ever, which felt weird, you gently took his hand into yours as he kissed you. You quickly both heard Clint screaming as he was looking for you guys.

You both pulled away and bursted out laughing, you had no idea what all that was, but it was surely a new connection.

.:｡✿*ﾟ‘ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ’ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ¨ﾟ✎･ ✿.｡.:* *.:｡

thank you for reading me🩵

[mariclerc]

Can you do a fic where the reader works for Ferrari and has been friends with Charles for a long time, and recently Charles and the reader have a friends with benefits thing going on, but the reader is actually in love with him. Then when Lewis moves to Ferrari, he takes an interest in the reader, the reader decides to give him a shot and stops the situationship with Charles and he realises he doesn't want to let her go.

thank you for this request, this was a little bit hard to make because i was looking at how to develop the story but I really liked how it came out, I hope you like it!

Confusions at work | cl16 & lh44

Summary: when you have feelings for your situationship but a new person gets in the middle of it. Warnings: a little angst, confused reader, and fluff at the end.

The garage bustles with mechanics working on the gleaming red cars. You lean over the table to see the monitor with the different strategies for the first practice session of the day. Charles walks towards you, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Looking stunning with that frowned face y/n... As always.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. You have known Charles since his great season in Formula 2 back in 2017, by then you were already working as an internal race engineer in the Haas team, you were practically like Sheldon from the big bang theory - a brainiac. Upon meeting Charles there was an instant connection, it was as if you had always known each other, eventually, you were promoted from Haas to Ferrari in 2019, just the same year that Charles was promoted to the red team too, and ever since then the easy camaraderie between you has turned into something more... A secret, friends-with-benefits situation that both sets your heart ablaze and tears it in two.

“Yeah, yeah, save it for the cameras, Perceval. You know perfectly well I can take you down with a bad strategy any day.” you chuckled.

Charles feigns offense, but his laughter betrays him. You share a comfortable silence, a familiarity that speaks volumes. The moment is shattered by the arrival of Lewis Hamilton, the new star driver at Ferrari. Arriving at that first meeting at Maranello his gaze settles on you, a flicker of interest igniting in his eyes. Fred had offered you a change of position with Adami to be Lewis' race engineer, but the comfort and confidence you already had working with Charles made you decline the offer, likewise, working with a seven-time world champion is a privilege, since you can learn a lot from him, but you and Charles had practically grown up together at Ferrari and out of loyalty to him you stayed with him.

-

The following weeks are a whirlwind. Lewis tries to get close to you, and as a result, you end up having some dates and night-outs with him. He is charismatic, attentive, you dare to say that he's a bit similar to Charles in so many ways since both of them treat you with such care and kindness. You find yourself drawn to his confidence and outgoing demeanor, a stark contrast to Charles' usual genuine and soft care towards you. Guilt gnaws at you, but the thrill of something new is intoxicating... And with a little sadness in your heart, you decide to end things with Charles... At least for a little while you try to understand what your heart wants.

One night you went to Charles' apartment, and you entered with the extra key that he had given you a long time ago. Charles' apartment is quiet, a stark contrast to the usual post-race buzz. You stand awkwardly in the living room, avoiding his gaze.

You gulped. “Charles... I think we need to talk.”

He looks up, a frown creasing his forehead. The air crackles with unspoken emotions. “Y/n what's wrong sweetie? Did I do something wrong?”

You take a deep breath. “It's about this.” you sigh. “This thing between us... It can go anymore.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air, Charles' frown deepens, his eyes searching yours. “Is it Lewis? Is this about him?” he asked.

The truth hangs on your tongue, a bitter pill to swallow. “Maybe, maybe not... The point is, things need to change... We need to take a break... At least for a little while.”

Charles stands abruptly, his frustration palpable. “Just like that? We throw away everything because of... what? Because some shiny new toy showed up?” His words sting, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes - a vulnerability you haven't seen before.

“It's not that simple, Charles. You know it's... Complicated.”

Tears well up in your eyes, this isn't how you imagined this conversation going. You practically run out of Charles' apartment, frustrated because you don't know if you did the right thing and at the same time you don't know if being with Lewis is the same as being with Charles... Because at the end of the day, he somehow manages to see through you and understand you on a level that Lewis cannot.

-

Days turn into weeks, you and Charles avoid each other. The only words that come out of your mouth are simply a "hello" and a "see you later", occasionally long sentences when you're giving him directions during the race or at the team debrief, the air is thick with unspoken tension. The joy has gone out of working at Ferrari... You see the way Lewis looks at you, but a hollow ache fills your chest. At night you constantly think about what you would be doing with Charles at that exact moment, perhaps cuddling up watching a movie, or a normal date at his house eating pizza, wearing matching socks and playing Mario kart... And even though Lewis takes you to glamorous galas, lavish dinners and so on, you don't complain about it, on the contrary, you're grateful for it, but, there's nothing like that instant connection with Charles.

One afternoon, Charles corners you near his car. His eyes are stormy, a mix of anger and something else you can't decipher.

You hear him sigh. “I miss you y/n... Like hell.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You miss him too, the easy banter, the way he understood you without words, the way his eyes spark every single time he was next to you.

“Charles... I...” you say shyly but he cuts you off, his voice rough.

“Don't... Don't tell me you miss Lewis...because if you do, I'll understand. But at least know this – this thing we have, it's real, at least for me. It's more than just crazy strategies and stolen kisses after victories. Maybe I haven't said it, haven't shown it the way you deserve, but I care about you, y/n... A lot.”

His confession hangs in the air, raw and vulnerable, you've never seen him that way. You can see the years of unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface. Tears prick your eyes, blurring the image of Charles in front of you.

A million things fight for dominance in your mind: the thrill of the new with Lewis, the comfortable companionship with Charles, the undeniable spark you share with him.

Taking a shaky breath, you meet his gaze.

”Charles, I... I don't know what I want... I mean, Lewis is exciting, a new challenge. But with you... it's different, it's easy, familiar, it's warm. But it's also... frustrating you know? You never give anything away, never let anyone in all the way.”

A flicker of pain crosses Charles' features. He reaches out, hesitantly placing a hand on your arm. “I'm scared y/n... Scared of losing you, scared of letting myself feel something this real. But if you're willing to take a chance, maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out together.” he says softly.

The silence stretches, thick with unspoken emotions. You look into Charles' eyes, searching for a glimpse of the future you both could have. The weight of the decision settles on your shoulders. You glance around the garage, the familiar red of the Ferraris a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. Lewis' confident smile flashes in your mind, but it's quickly replaced by the image of Charles' vulnerability, a side you've never seen before.

Taking a deep breath, you meet Charles' gaze, a flicker of determination replacing your earlier uncertainty.

“Okay Charles, let's figure this out... Together.” you say softly.

A slow smile spreads across Charles' face, relief washing over him. He pulls you into a tight embrace, the scent of his familiar cologne grounding you, it feels like coming home.

“Thank you, y/n. Thank you for taking a chance on us.” he whispers in your ear.

You pull back slightly, a playful glint returning to your eyes. “Just don't expect me to lose in the strategy game anytime soon, Leclerc... This isn't over yet.”

Charles throws his head back and laughs, the tension finally breaking. He ruffles your hair affectionately.

“I wouldn't have it any other way amour... Wouldn't have it any other way.” he smiles. (love)

-

The garage and the pit wall is mostly deserted, the day's work winding down. You're packing up some of your things when Lewis approaches, a determined look in his eyes.

“Hey, y/n! Can I talk to you?” he asked with a friendly smile on his face.

You hesitate, then nod, gesturing towards a quiet corner. Lewis leans against a wall, his voice gets a little serious.

“I saw you and Charles... And I get it now, there's something there, a history I can't compete with.” There's a hint of disappointment in his voice, but mostly understanding.

“Lewis, I... I'm really sorry. Things just moved too fast too soon, and I realized what I was risking.” you say softly but Lewis offers a shy smile.

“No need to apologize, but follow your heart, y/n! That's all any of us can do... Besides, maybe next time on the track, I can finally knock your team off that top spot in the strategy battle.”

A genuine smile graces your lips. “Don't count on it, Hamilton. But hey, maybe we can grab a coffee sometime and hash out some friendly competition strategies. No promises on who'll win, though.”

Lewis chuckles, the tension dissipating. He extends his hand for a handshake. “Deal! And good luck with Charles. He's a lucky guy!”

You shake his hand, a newfound sense of clarity settling within you, he gives you a warm smile and a friendly hug. As Lewis walks away, you glance towards Charles, who's watching the exchange with a hint of possessiveness in his eyes. You catch his gaze and he winks at you, a silent promise hanging between you.

He walks towards you with a little smile on his face and takes you in his arms.

“So... How about we get out of here? I could use a real shower you know?” you say and Charles' smile widens, genuine relief washing over his features.

“Sounds like a plan. My place, or yours?” he asks softly.

The air hangs heavy with unspoken possibilities. You know this is a turning point in your relationship, a chance to rebuild something stronger.

“Your place only if you promise to make that killer pasta dish you always brag about.” you say teasingly.

Charles lets out a mock groan, but there's a twinkle in his eye. “Fine, fine. But you have to help me chop the vegetables! No bystanders in my kitchen, okay?” You laugh, the tension finally breaking. As you finally grab all of your things, Charles slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Come on, sweetcheeks. Let's get out of here before someone challenges me to another mario kart race.” he smiles softly. “You know I can't resist a good challenge, especially when you're involved.”

You nudge him playfully, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest.

��Oh, I'm sure you can handle it, Leclerc. But just you wait, next time I'm schooling you.”

Together you walk out of the garage, the setting sun casting an orange glow across the racetrack. The future is uncertain, but with a newfound commitment to each other, you're ready to face it head-on. You and Charles head towards his car, the promise of a home-cooked meal and a chance to reconnect hanging heavy in the air.

[qsycomplainsalot]

So as a good NB bisexual trad wife married to a Jewish trans person I was in church this morning trying my hardest not to fall asleep on the good lord's shittiest seating arrangement, as is custom. Cutting right to it, the sermon was weird. What I listened to was a French translation of a text by one Gary Heinz, whom I've been told is a Canadian pastor but the only one I could find online is from the Carolinas, with a degree from Charleston, so for the purpose of this post I'll just say he's American in the same vague way as his tomato-based namesake.

The sermon was talking about the tale of the good Samaritan, which most people know about, and was composed thuszthly. First it goes over the tale again, then it helps define the elements of it and how they're relevant to the point made by our boy Jesus. The priest sees a naked beat-up man on the side of the rode, presumably from a mount, and decides not to get involved even though if he had any way to know the man had been Jewish he would have been bound to help him. The second man is a Levite, traditionally someone who helps priests and knows the law just as well, but decides not to get involved either. The third guy of course is a Samaritan. The Samaritans are a distinct but very closely related ethnoreligious group to the Hebrews/Jews, who we are often told hate them. The Samaritan helps the person, provides first aid, props him up on his horse and walks him to an inn where he houses him by giving the innkeeper two pieces of silver and promising to pay any extra cost on his next trip back. This according to the preacher is a symbol of limitless charity, we'll get back to that. The context of the tale was a smartass asking Jesus what to do to be saved and when being told to do unto thy neighbor as you would doeth unto thineselfe (in Middle English, which was very confusing at the time), follows up by asking who his neighbor was, aka who he should apply the law to. The point being made is that although the law could be read and almost bent into only applying to people you care about, only people you're explicitly meant to treat well and even then only once you're absolutely sure they're marked as such, it's more important to follow the spirit of the law which is to be kind to everyone. Which is a good message.

So why am I kvetching ? That was only the first part of the sermon, and if you thought the second part would be about linking that message to current event you'd unfortunately be wrong. It's instead focused on finding, or making up really, symbolism in the story that foretells the passion of Jesus. You see the Samaritan was really a stand-in for anyone you might hate, including, and I quote, "a Nazi or a member of ISIS", because even they can be saved and be your neighbor for the purpose of doing unto them like unto thyself. And the two silver coins well you see they would pay for two nights and on the third one Jesus comes back from the dead. Now I'm not an expert on the cost of living in Ancient Judea. But Gary Heinz isn't either so I'm gonna say it, he pulled that number out of his ass. Also a little confused about the same storytelling element being earlier compared to limitless charity, only now to be quantified as worth two nights at a B&B. But that's just nitpicking, what I'm really tired of is every reading of the holy texts [cut to meme] by Christian preachers devolving into improv rapping about Jesus and how he died for us. The lessons in the Bible stop being broadly applicable to daily life and are instead contrived into fifty different ways to say "he is risen" like it's isn't the sole fucking reason we're in church to begin with. That's usually bad enough, but when a pastor says that the Samaritan in the tale of the good Samaritan was here for shock value and could be "a Nazi or a member of ISIS", this changes the meaning of the tale to "be kind to everyone regardless of who they are, including Nazis apparently", from the original condemnation of prejudices. The Samaritan didn't chose to be a Samaritan, he's not doing any harm being a Samaritan, and the tale shows that his religion being slightly removed from orthodox Judaism isn't as important as his doing good and helping his fellow man. I don't think someone who joined a political party predicated on the extermination of minorities would fit that message, and I think changing said message to a more broad declaration of love from Jesus is ignoring what people need to hear these days where prejudice against minorities makes up 90% of the news.

And you might say it's not really a preacher's job to raise awareness for current events, but I'll ask you this: is hearing about how Jesus totally died for you every week supposed to make me a better Christian ? Or is learning that he told us pretty much in clear text not to hate minorities based on prejudice gonna do that. Cause I think most Christians need to hear the later more.

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝕬𝖍, 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑

𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪: what we do in the shadows

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: you’re a half-blood vampire and you take your first victim.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤: canon typical themes, brief cathartic violence, (implied) attempted sa, minor character death, blo0d (obviously)

𝔞/𝔫: the ending may be a bit rushed I just really wanted to post this already

“I was bitten, I believe…” you began, pausing for a moment to do some math in your head, wiggling one of your feet as you sat on the couch. “Two months ago. And y’know, in terms of vampirism, being a half-blood has its perks.” you continued with a shrug.

The scene cuts to you sitting in your bedroom in the light of the sun, completely unharmed. And your bed wasn’t a coffin, but took a similar shape. You gave the coffin a try once when you were first turned, but you couldn’t really sleep. Another scene showed you snacking on a Kit-Kat while reading.

“I can still eat human food, though I am garlic intolerant now, which is kind of a bummer. But that’s not even my biggest problem.”

The camera shows footage of you unscrewing the cap on a liter bottle containing a thick, dark burgundy liquid before pouring it into a glass.

“My vampire half still needs blood, like once or twice a week. Found that out the hard way.”

During your first week of being a vampire, you got very lightheaded and fainted in the middle of the hall since you hadn’t drank any blood since turning. Since you could digest human food, you could go a bit longer than most vampires without blood, but you still needed it.

“Straight up, I’m not a fan. Drinking it is one thing, draining it from the body is another.” you admitted, shaking your head and shrugging. “I ju- I can’t. I’ve tried, and I can’t.”

Thankfully, Lazlo had recently taken a victim that day so they gathered enough spare blood out of the chap to give to you.

The cameras cut to an interview with Lazlo and Nadja, sitting side by side as per usual.

“We don’t really mind saving blood for them sometimes,” Nadja said. “Most of our victims, we don’t even finish all the way.”

The footage cuts to a short scene of Nadja holding up a still bleeding victim by the shirt whilst Guillermo holds the aforementioned liter bottle with a funnel in the top to collect blood, grimacing and trying to just focus on keeping the funnel in the bottle.

“Yes, but we do believe it’s about time they learn to attain blood for themself.” Lazlo said, and Nadja nodded in agreement. “The only thing I’ve seen them drain was a goose. And even after that, they insisted on burying it.”

“Even though it bit the shit out of them.” Nadja added. “In the wild, baby animals rely on their mothers for sustenance for the first few months of their lives before learning to hunt for themselves. (Name) is kind of like our weird little pup.”

You knew they were right. You had been a vampire for two months, and you still had yet to take a human victim. The problem was that you would always overthink it. For one thing, you didn’t want to kill an innocent person, but he cause of all the ‘what if’s, you couldn’t really detect anyone really deserving of such a gruesome and sudden death. Curse this big heart of yours. Plus it was New York, and Staten Island for that matter. Who knows where these people have been and what’s running through their veins?

But half-blood or not, learning to hunt is essential.

Anyway, you were walking through the streets one night with the others since they had recently found a good hunting ground and didn’t want to leave you alone in the house. Nandor suggested that maybe one of them would have the general disposition of a goose and you could drain them. You weren’t too sure about that, but thanked him anyway.

Now, one of the perks of your vampire half was an enhanced sense of hearing, and because of this, you overheard a conversation from inside one of the apartments,

“I’m should really go now… I can’t stand up.”

That made you stop. If your blood wasn’t already running cold, it just got colder. Guillermo seemed to notice you falling behind. “(Name), are you still coming?”

“Uh, yeah, um..” you hesitated, glancing between them and the apartment, bouncing on your feet slightly. “I’ll uh.. I’ll meet you guys there, okay? I’ll just be a minute.”

Before they could respond, you turned into a bat and flew up towards wherever the voice came from. A knot began to form in your tiny stomach as you dreaded what you might find, and when you came up to the window, your suspicions were confirmed as you peered into the dimly lit room. That was all you needed to bare your teeth and shift back into your human form, rearing your foot back to kick the window open.

It seemed the universe noticed you needed incentive and answered.

Nadja wiped some excess blood from her jaw and licked her lips, humming contently. It had been only been about twenty minutes since you went off on your own, and she hoped you were alright, wondering what you could have been doing. As if on cue, she heard a familiar squeaking and the sound of little wings flapping towards them.

“Nadja! Nadja Nadja Na-”

POOF

“Nadja!” you exclaimed joyfully after landing on your feet and regaining your composure. All three vampires and one human turned to face your direction, and were surprised to see you with a beaming smile on your blood stained face. “I did it!” you exclaimed with excitement, panting slightly.

Realization dawned on the pod of vampires, and Nadja’s smile grew to match your own.

“All by yourself?” “Yes!!”

Laughter filled the air as Nadja pulled you in for a short hug. You sighed in exhilaration, “Call em crazy but I kinda wanna do it again.”

“We have plenty of time before the sun rises again,” Lazlo said, smiling proudly at you with a hand around your shoulders as you walked with them. “Plenty of time to get your practice in.”

Yeah, you were gonna do just like fine.

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

300 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡: 𝙙𝙖𝙮 1 — 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 3.5k (phew its been a while since i wrote something this long)

𝙖/𝙣: OMG I FINALLY GET TO POST THIS!! yall i needed a minsung okayyyy i dont ship them IRL but i NEEDED this plot. also as of now, tickletober is put on hold until im able to finish it all and post it all at the same time :3

𝙩/𝙬: ROMANTIC PLOT, read at your own risk! rougher tickles but it remains soft between them, use of gentle restraint, teasing, and mentions of romantic moments

𝒍𝒆𝒆: spiderman! jisung

𝙡𝙚𝙧: minho

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117 @minnielvrr

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s🖤

Minho had always been the type to go unnoticed, despite his strikingly pretty face. 

His quiet demeanor and cold attitude kept people at a distance, which suited him just fine. 

While others in his class buzzed with the excitement of high school friendships and crushes, Minho remained detached, his heart only warmed by small, random moments.

Then there was Jisung.

Minho first noticed him during chemistry class, a boy with messy hair and a habit of biting his lip when nervous. 

The thing was, Jisung was always nervous around Minho. He would blush furiously whenever they were partnered up, stutter when asking him something, and occasionally knock over a beaker or two in his fluster.

Minho found it…oddly adorable. Not that he’d admit it, but he’d grown a little fond of watching the way Jisung’s face turned bright pink whenever they were close.

But that day, Minho wasn’t thinking of Jisung or himself. He was just walking, thinking, in the middle of the night. 

Until he heard a crash, and three huge, buff dudes decided to approach him, backing him against the wall. 

“Where’s your money?” One asked harshly, and fear gripped Minho as he felt his back hit the wall. He was a student—he couldn’t lose his money. 

Before he could react, the guy grabbed at him, reaching for his bag, but just as panic set in, something—someone—appeared out of nowhere, swooping down in a blur of red and dark blue.

“Whoa, easy there! Hands off the pretty boy, yeah?” A teasing voice called, followed by the unmistakable thwip of web shooters. Within seconds, the robber was stuck to the nearby alley wall, struggling but securely bound in webs.

Minho stood there, wide-eyed and slightly dazed, his heart still hammering in his chest. His savior landed gracefully in front of him, offering an exaggerated bow. "No need to thank me. All in a day's work, saving helpless civilians."

Minho blinked, taking in the familiar red and blue costume. “You’re…Spiderman….”

“Yep, that’s me.” Spiderman said, straightening up with a cocky grin hidden behind his mask. “You alright?”

Minho stared in disbelief. “I’m fine.” He mumbled, his usual cool facade barely intact after the sudden encounter.

“Well, good. You should be more careful, walking around here alone. Cute guys like you attract all kinds of trouble.” There was a teasing lilt to Spiderman’s voice that made Minho bristle slightly. 

“Maybe next time we can hang out when you’re not about to get mugged.” Spiderman tilted his head playfully. “Got a number?”

Minho paused, his usual reservations kicking in, but something about the situation—the thrill of being saved, the strange charm of Spiderman—made him relent. “Fine. Give me your phone.”

Spiderman handed it over, and Minho quickly punched in his number before handing it back.

“Nice. I’ll be sure to text you if I save you again~” Spiderman teased.

“Don’t get cocky,” Minho muttered, watching as Spiderman grinned behind his mask and disappeared into the night.

Minho recounted everything that had just occurred with a disbelieving laugh. Did I just befriend Spiderman? And why is he shorter than me? 

Returning to his college the next day, Minho sincerely hoped Jisung had made progress on the chemistry project. He knew he was pretty pre-occupied last night. 

He walked up and sat next to the boy, watching his chubby cheeks turn pink as they always did, just as Han wished him a good morning, biting his lower lip and holding out his lab book sweetly; He had done half of the experiment already. 

Minho smiled gently down at him, taking the book from Sung’s shaky hands and reading through the data, all handwritten in Jisung’s neat scrawl. 

“Wow, good job, Jisung! I can’t believe you managed to do all of this in a day.” Min grinned at the smaller boy, who smiled a crinkly, adorable smile that made Minho oddly want to grab his face and kiss him senseless. 

“T-Thank you…” Jisung smiled shyly, ears turning the same shade of pink as his cheeks. God, he’s so endearing. 

After working hard on the project and suffering through every experiment part, Minho was finally done. 

“Good job, Hannie.” He knew he had to be gentle with Jisung; Just cause he wasn’t  popular doesn’t mean the sweet, nerdy, extremely smart Sungie wasn’t shy. 

“Thank you.” Jisung smiled shyly again. 

Minho got home to the dorms, pulling his phone out just to see a message: 

Spidey: Meet me on the roof in 5 >:)

God, not the roof. Minho had a horrible fear of heights. He knew Spiderman didn’t know that, though. 

Reaching for the doorknob, Minho braced himself as he stepped out, just to look down and feel fear immediately spike through his system. 

The ground below felt impossibly far away, the edge of the roof suddenly far too close. Minho froze, fingers tightening on the doorknob. 

His heart pounded in his chest, breath quickening as a wave of dizziness hit him. His knees gave out slightly, and before he realized it, he was practically crumpled at the door, clinging to the knob like a lifeline. Holy shit holy shit holy shit—

“Minho?” 

Spidey’s voice was soft, a teasing lilt barely audible over the sound of Minho’s ragged breathing. Minho squeezed his eyes shut, his knuckles white as he gripped the door behind him.

“I—I don’t think I can move…” He admitted in a shaky whisper, his breaths coming too fast now, shallow and desperate.

“Hey, I’m sorry…I didn’t know you were scared.” Spiderman’s voice was gentle, and Minho could feel a warm, gloved hand cover his. 

“I won’t let you fall, I promise.”

Minho’s breath hitched, but the warmth of Spidey’s hands steadied him. He forced his eyes open, meeting the masked gaze of the here as he pulled him upright, keeping a strong arm around his waist.

“Look at me—” Spidey said, his voice close now, almost soothing as it cut through Minho’s rising panic. “Even if you fall, I’ll catch you. You’re safe. I’ve got you, okay?”

Slowly, Minho nodded, clutching Spidey’s arm as they approached the ledge. When they finally stopped, Minho dared to glance down and saw the view before him—the city lights glittering like stars, stretching far into the distance. 

The sight was stunning, but his legs still felt weak, the ground far below pulling at him with an unsettling gravity.

But he knew that Spidey wouldn’t let him fall. Speaking of Spiderman, he was rambling animatedly to Minho. “See? Isn’t it so pretty?” 

Minho took another breath, steadying himself as his eyes roamed the view. Now that the panic was fading, he had to admit, it was pretty. The city spread out like a glittering web, each light flickering like tiny stars in the dark. He exhaled softly. 

“Yeah… it’s nice.”

“I—Oh…I-I’m sorry!!” Jisung gasped, knocking over a test tube as he dumped his books on the table with a tiny whimper and took a seat next to Minho. He was late, Min noticed. 

And he was wearing a long sleeved tee…it was really hot outside. Minho’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he didn’t say anything. 

Then, while Jisung was writing in his lab book, Min noticed a deep cut on his wrist, the skin red and bruised, and he wanted to ask what had happened, but the bell rang and Sungie seemed very intent on getting out of Min’s way. 

Minho met up with Spidey on the roof, giggling and laughing at funny stories and smiling as Spiderman continued his random antics. 

Minho found himself enjoying every moment, every minuscule thing he did with the red and blue decked superhero. It took all his worries away, and he knew that not much could do that. 

Spidey stopped rambling and winced, holding his wrist. 

“What’s wrong?” Minho asked gently, and the hero shook his head. “I got cut today morning, I was fighting a villain. It hurts, but I guess it’ll be okay.”  

Minho noticed the placement of the cut seemed very…familiar? Like he’d already seen it that day, and he racked his mind for any clue as to why an ice-cold realization was one thought away from occurring. 

Minho’s mind slowly began to create some connections between Jisung and Spiderman. It was probably his brain making stuff up…but he found the two really similar. 

They were both the same height, and he could tell Spidey’s cheeks were just as soft. He knew he would’ve thought that Jisung was Spiderman way earlier…If it weren’t for some differing factors. 

For example, Jisung gets shy almost immediately. He’s barely able to even hold a conversation with Minho, becoming flustered so quickly. 

And his clumsiness. 

Minho, noticing that Spidey and Sungie seemed to have the same cut in the same placement, but he had previously attributed Jisung’s little accident to his clumsiness. 

Jisung tripped often, often over his own feet, and his hands were naturally shaky and even his adorably thin, gold-framed glasses couldn’t save himself from his own tripping and falling. 

Minho thought for a little while longer, and for some reason, although everything fit, he was just unable to believe that the shy, cute,  blushing boy from his chemistry class was a web-shooting superhero. 

But it all clicked. 

The next day, Jisung stumbled into the class, hair tousled, late as normal, and he seemed to notice Minho staring holes into his head. “D-Do you need something, hyung?” He set his things down beside Minho. 

Minho shook his head, remaining silent. The teasing, confident spider he had been meeting on the roof was really shy, clumsy, sweet Jisung from chemistry. Minho almost couldn’t believe it. 

The second class was over, Minho was grabbing Jisung’s wrist, forcing him into the janitor’s closet and almost laughing at the flustered squeak he earned in response. 

“Hyung…what—” Jisung’s voice wobbled, his wide eyes darting around the tiny space as he blinked in confusion.

Minho pressed a finger to Jisung’s lips, grinning down at him. “You didn’t think you’d get away that easily, did you, Spiderman?”

Jisung froze, his face paling before turning a shade of red that rivaled his suit. “W-What—?!” Adorable. 

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Minho teased, his voice low as he leaned in closer. “I know who you are now. Spiderman~” he whispered the name with a teasing lilt, watching as Jisung squirmed, trying to hide his flushed face behind his hands.

Sungie looked like he wanted to say more, his mouth opening and closing in shock and fear. “H-How?!” 

“Your wrist? You have a cut, Sung.” Minho deadpanned, and he startled at the sight of tears gathering in Jisung’s lashline. 

“Minho—Hyung…you can’t tell anyone! Okay?!” Jisung seemed stressed, his eyes widening as he made his point clear. 

“Sungie…of course I won’t. You don’t have to worry.” Minho smiled gently, cupping Jisung’s cheeks and waiting for the poor boy to calm down. 

“I-I didn’t think you’d find out…I tried to hide the cut, but I guess it didn’t work…” Hannie muttered, and Minho grinned. “You’re so confident and strong in your suit, but you’re so shy and clumsy here, Peter Han.” 

Jisung groaned, his entire face turning an even deeper shade of red as he covered his face again. “Oh my god...”

Minho chuckled softly, stepping closer until he was practically towering over the shorter boy. “You’re so tiny. And so cute~” he teased, poking Jisung lightly in the side.

Jisung whined as Minho leaned in, face inches away. “I bet you’re so cute blushing…so adorable~” 

“Hyung!” Jisung squealed. 

Jisung stumbled out of the storage closet, almost dropping half of his books, face bright red and lips swollen, Minho following with a grin, half of his lip tint wiped clean off. 

“Bye, Sungie!~” Minho laughed, smiling fondly as Jisung raced down the hallway with a blushing squeak, his face bright red and his cheeks looking even chubbier than usual. 

Minho waited at the roof, smiling as a certain red and blue superhero flipped and landed gracefully, squeaking as Minho pinned him against the wall immediately, yanking his mask off of his head. 

Min smiled fondly at the sight of Sungie’s messy hair and his adrenaline-flushed cheeks. 

Jisung, clearly caught off guard, took a step back—only to stumble over his own feet. He yelped, nearly losing his balance. But before he could fall, Minho’s hands shot out, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him back upright.

“Careful, Spidey~” Minho teased, his grip firm and steady around Jisung’s waist. He grinned as Jisung squirmed in his arms, clearly embarrassed. “Can’t have my hero tripping over himself now, can I?” He pulled them so Jisung’s chest was flush against his. 

Without warning, Minho pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Wha—No! Minho!” Jisung groaned in mortification, hands flying to cover his face as Minho burst into laughter. “You’re the worst!” 

“And you’re cute,” Minho shot back, still grinning. He took a step closer, gently tapping Jisung’s chin to get him to look up. 

“Stopp…I’m not cute—!” 

“Are you kidding me?” Minho cut him off, tilting Jisung’s head slightly as he inspected him, his tone turning soft but serious. “You’re literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Your face is adorable.”

Jisung opened his mouth to protest, but Minho wasn’t done. “You’ve got this tiny mole right here.” Minho pointed out, tapping the small mole on Jisung’s cheek. “I’ve wanted to kiss it since the first time I saw you.”

Jisung squeaked at that, his eyes widening in disbelief. “W-What?!”

“And your hair.” Minho continued, running his fingers through Jisung’s tousled locks. “It’s always a mess, but it’s so soft. You look like a tiny baby bird.”

Jisung let out an embarrassed whimper, trying and failing to hide his face as Minho kept hold of him, the teasing grin never leaving his lips. “Minho, s-stop…”

“And don’t even get me started on your body…” Minho said, pulling back just enough to look at Jisung’s small, slender frame. “You’re so tiny. How is someone this tiny supposed to be Spiderman?”

Jisungie groaned and hid his face against Min’s chest with a flustered whine, and Minho had an idea to cause some extra mischief. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke, content to just be in each other’s arms. The night air was cool, but Minho felt nothing but warmth with Jisung in his arms, the quiet moment feeling far more intimate than all the teasing that had come before.

Minho prodded Jisung’s side once. And just like that, the intimate energy was gone. 

“S-Stohop!!” Hannie smacked his hand away, but the tickle monster within Minho had woken up, and he was hungry. 

With a playful smirk, Minho snatched Jisung’s web shooter, and playfully stuck his wrists above his head with a speed Jisung’s couldn’t even comprehend, pressing them agaisnt the wall, causing Jisung to gasp in surprise. 

"You really think I’m gonna stop now, Sungie?" Minho asked, his voice dripping with amusement as placed Jisung’s web shooter back, and Jisung was trapped there, completely at his mercy. 

Minho stepped closer, leaning in so their faces were inches apart. Jisung held his breath, anticipation swirling in his stomach. But instead of a kiss, Minho’s fingers wiggled mischievously as they found their way to Jisung’s sides.

“Minho, don’t you dare—” Jisung began, but before he could finish, Minho’s fingers descended, spidering along Jisung’s sides with a devilish precision. Poor Sungie’s body jolted at the touch, a squeal escaping his lips as he arched his back, legs kicking out frantically behind Minho’s back.

“NONONO—Hyuhuhuhung nohohohoho!! THAHAHAT TIHIHICKLES!!” Sungie shrieked, eyes slitting as his heart-shaped smile appeared, stretching his chubby, pink cheeks. 

Jisung could feel his spider-sense going absolutely wild in his head, his body jolting at every touch as his spider suit allowed Minho access to every spot and detail along his skin uninterrupted. 

It drove Sungie mad, unable to squirm away due to the strength of his own webs as Minhi moved to his ribs next, grabbing his rib-cage with his hands and kneading in mercilessly. 

“PLEHEHEHEHEASEE!!” Jisung tried to squirm, tried to wiggle free, but Minho had him firmly pinned, his legs helplessly flailing as his laughter grew louder, sweeter, more frantic. 

His cheeks flushed a deep pink, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead as he gasped for air between giggles. “WAHAHAHAIT!! Wahahahait wait a sehehehecond—!!”

“Oh, wait? I don’t think so~” Minho cooed, his fingers suddenly pinching at Jisung’s sides, moving up to the tender area just beneath his ribs. “I’ve got you tied up all cute like this, baby. No running now.”

Sungie squealed, his spider-sense telling him to squirm to the right, then the left, and then the right again, but neither way provided any relief for poor, ticklish Sung. It certainly wasn’t helping that his sense was heightened and made everything that much more ticklish. 

“Look at you, Sungie~” Minho purred, leaning in closer, fingers now dancing across Jisung’s lower side belly, a spot that always made him lose control. 

“So squirmy… so helpless. You love this, don’t you?” Minho’s teasing voice made Jisung blush even harder, his mind whirling as he tried to keep up with the relentless tickling.

“NOHOHOHO!! Nahahahha dohohohon’t!!” Jisung laughed, eyes crinkling in joy just as Minho had an idea.

Moving his fingers to the web design on Sungie’s suit, he traced along the pattern all the way along his chest and sides, pulling the sweeter, frantic giggles as Jisung thrashed side to side to escape the ticklish sensation. 

Jisung threw his head back, a wide, helpless grin taking over his face as he squealed loudly, his laughter filling the silence in the area. “I CAHAHAHAN’T!! YOUHUHURE SO MEHEHEHEAN!!”

Minho only grinned wider, his heart practically bursting with affection as he watched his Sungie fall apart under his fingers. “Going crazy, huh? But I haven’t even gotten to the good spots yet~” Minho teased, his fingers suddenly moving higher, targeting Jisung’s underarms and causing him to shriek in surprise.

“IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES TOO MUHUHUCH!! Plehehehease leehhehet gohohoho!!” Jisung’s voice was tinged with frustration as Minho had him exactly where he wanted him, helpless to his tickling hands. 

Minho kept his fingers exactly where they were, curling around his underarms, moving to a sensitive spot right underneath, opening and closing his fingers in that same, maddening motion that had poor Hannie squealing out, kicking as Minho laughed along with him. 

“MIHIHINHOOOO!! AHAHASTOHOHOHAHAHA!!” Jisung screamed, frustration lacing through his movements as he struggles as hard as he could before giving in, limp against the wall as Minho’s tickling fingers continued to dance along his ticklish skin. 

After what felt like eternity, Minho finally ripped off the web, smiling as Jisung stumbled, his senses fried to the tickling. 

Minho slowed to let Jisung catch his breath, smiling as Sungie melted into his waiting arms, head pressed into his shoulder and wet cheek squished against his neck.  

He gently wrapped his arms around Jisung, his hands circling Han’s tiny waist. 

“You’re so mehehean…” Jisung whined, and Minho laughed gently. “Stay over tonight, baby.”

Minho stirred in the early morning light, soft rain tapping gently against the windowpane, the rhythmic sound lulling him further into a peaceful daze. 

The world outside was wrapped in the gray softness of a rainy day, clouds casting a gentle, cool glow through the bedroom. Minho blinked slowly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, and as he turned his head, his breath hitched at the sight next to him.

Jisung was fast asleep, curled up against Minho’s side, his soft, steady breaths the only sound in the quiet room. His delicate features were utterly peaceful, lips slightly parted in a tiny, innocent pout as he snuggled closer in his sleep. He looked so small, so fragile, and yet so perfectly content.

Minho's eyes drifted to the shirt Jisung was wearing—his shirt. It was far too big for him, swallowing his tiny frame, with the sleeves hanging loosely past his fingertips. Below, Jisung was wearing shorts that barely peeked out from under the hem of the oversized shirt, making him look even tinier, as if he had tried to hide in Minho’s clothes.

Minho couldn’t help but smile at the sight, his heart swelling as he watched Jisung shift in his sleep. Jisung’s tiny body curled further into Minho, letting out the softest little squeak as he nuzzled his face into Minho’s chest. 

The sound was so innocent, so vulnerable, that it made Minho’s chest ache with affection.

He didn’t want to wake him, didn’t want to disturb the precious serenity of the moment. Jisung, still fast asleep, let out another soft squeak, his brows furrowing slightly as he shifted again, pressing impossibly closer into Minho’s warmth.

He tightened his arm around Jisung’s waist, careful not to wake him, but unable to resist the urge to pull him closer. As Jisung nestled further into his chest with a contented sigh, Minho knew, without a doubt, that he had fallen in love all over again.

He also knew that no matter what, when he was there, his Hannie was always home. 

[erenjaegerwifee]

Summers In Pandora 🌸 Day 7 - Make Up Sex

Paring: Jake x Fem!Omatikayan!Reader 

Summary: You and your secret lover got into an argument about his wife. 

Warnings: MDNI 18+, infidelity, toxic relationship, secret relationship, handjob, p in v, kissing, some manipulation, explicit language, 

Word Count: 1.5k

Disclaimer: all my characters are aged-up! If that makes you uncomfortable do not read or interact wiith my account or any of my posts!

Main M.List | Event M.List

“I just don’t understand why you can’t just leave her now Jake!” you shout at him. You were both in the middle of a heated argument about your relationship, you are younger than him and when you started sleeping together Jake was already mated. You knew what you were getting yourself into but you really wanted to bite off a piece of him. Jake already had children at the time but it didn’t stop you.  

He fell into your arms and pussy so easily when he wasn’t getting anything from his wife. You always loved that he wanted you more than her, it gave you some kind of sick praise. “She’s my wife! We have been over this y/n! I’m not leaving her no matter what!” but you seem to forget sometimes, he is with you to fuck, not to love. So your feelings are one sided. He can break it off with you whenever he wants to, but Jake thinks he settled for the first blue goddess that jumped in front of him, he wanted to know if they all taste the same, which is why he was with you in the first place and he made that clear. 

“But Jake we could be happy! I could give you everything! I already give you everything she doesn’t!” you retaliate. You don’t understand why he doesn’t love you the way he should, why he doesn’t care for you the way you care for him, why he doesn’t even stay the night. “Y/n, I’m only gonna explain this to you one more time, and if you don’t cut this shit out, you’re gonna fucking regret it. I love my wife; I am not leaving my wife. You cannot give me anything that I wouldn’t get from her. I am with you simply because I wanted to fuck something else, there is no other reason I am with you besides that cunt between your legs do you understand?”  

You knew this wasn’t a relationship that would last, every few weeks you and Jake get into this argument, every few weeks you scream at each other and say things you don’t mean. Then you make back up but you aren’t sure that’s the case this time, Jake has never said anything like that to you before. He basically admitted he is only using you for your body, he doesn’t want you for anything else.  

Your eyes tear up and you look down at the floor glimpsing the cute, slightly revealing outfit you wore for him today. He sees you as a slut for him to fuck, he doesn’t see you as anything else. You are just confided to this little space you both share then that’s it.  

Jake regrets his words as soon as they come out. He sees the way your eyes get glassy and he feels awful. He didn’t mean for it to come out like that. He only wanted to make his point clear, he was just frustrated at the hectic day he had and he just wanted to fuck out his frustration and you looked so prefect. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings by acting like a dick, he just wanted to do what he always comes here to do without you making and issue.  

“Listen baby I’m-”  

“Save it- go apologize and fuck you wife” your tears fall down your cheek as you silently cry and you storm out of the small hut. “Wait baby come back!” you heard his voice call after you but you couldn’t find it in yourself to turn around. You just ran home and cried softly into your pillows.  

The next few days you see him around the clan as you slowly complete your duties, you usually did them quickly so you could run away and have some private time for them but you stopped. He really hurt you last time and why should you keep putting yourself in a position to get hurt over and over again? You were sour though, you missed him. The way he touched you, held you in his arms, the way he loved on you with his mouth, with his cock. You missed him so much.  

What you didn’t know is jake went to your little hut every day, stayed late everyday just hoping you would come by but you never did. He couldn’t go to your private quarters without being seen and that defeated the purpose of a private arrangement.   

One night you were walking in the forest alone and just happen to walk pass your small shared hut. You were previously in your thoughts that you accidently brought yourself back here. You noticed the light was on and you knew he was in there, ‘what if he brought someone else because you weren’t enough?’  

You couldn’t stop the thoughts from forming and you barged into the hut. You weren’t expecting to see him alone sitting drinking something hot out of a ceramic cup. “Ma baby, you came back, I was waiting for you.” You look at him as he stands up, “All week?” you ask. “No, I came back every day waiting for you. I wanted to apologize for what I said before, I didn’t mean it” your eyes dart around the room you can feel yourself about to cry for the hundredth time this week. 

“Jake, even if you said it in rage, you know you meant it, you love her and you won’t leave her, I think we should just break this off, the point of this was not to frustrate you more anyways.” you face away from him and lean forward against the small wooden table. “No baby, I was angry, I didn’t mean it, I want to make it up to you, so you that I do want you, for more than just your body I love you.”  

Jake comes and wrap around his arms around your body and pulled you into him. You didn’t have the energy to fight him so you stood there in his embrace, “I’m so sorry, let me make it up to you” hearing him say he loved you and he wanted to make it up to you. You always were a sucker for his words, and everything else on him. Jake brought his lips to the spot right under your ear and peppered sweet kisses on your kiss. 

The kisses progressively got more heated and he started sucking on your skin. Jake felt you relaxing into his embrace and he knew he had you back where he wanted you. He turned you around to face him and planted a kiss on your lips. You immediately kissed him back and you both stumbled to the bed he built for the hut. Jake sat down and let you fall into his lap.  

He wasted no time removing for clothes and his own tossing them to the side, “Missed you so much” he whispered as raised your body and lowered you on his dick. Jake felt your cunt drip on the head of his harden cunt and lowered you down slowly on him, he mumbled against your skin how tight you were, how much he missed slipping his cock into you. 

When you bottomed out, he’s hands gripped your waist and moved you up and down on him, his cock graved your g-spot so perfectly you couldn’t help but mewl his name. He watched proudly as you fell apart on him while apologizing for being mean and making you so upset, it was the most perfect make up sex you ever had. When you were about to cum, he felt you clamp down on his cock and he smirked, “Gonna cum on this cock baby, go ahead cum on me. Let me feel you gush babygirl”  

Jakes knew how to get you hot and bothered and he always knew when you were close to your release. You cum on his cock without warning and he fucked you on his cock as your body slumped. His thrust slowly stopped and he let you sit on his lap dripping cum between his thick thighs before you get off him without warning.  

You slump down to the floor and took his cock in your hands and stroked it, you knew he was close when he started moaning above you, when he told you how pretty you look on your knees and how he could never get tired of watching you get him off. You stuck you tongue out and he shot his cum all over your face and chest. Barely any landed on your tongue but more on your cheeks and tits, not that you minded.  

Jake cleaned you both up and laid with you on the bed for a while, you knew he’d have to go home eventually but it was just something you will have to deal with. He was probably the love of your life though; you would continue this toxic relationship just to make him happy.  

🌸I hope you all enjoyed reading! I know I took a minute to continue this prompt list but I promise I’m going to continue writing it until it’s finished!

Taglist

@rivatar @delusionalwh6re @strongheartneteyam @xylianasblog @nilahsstuff @inlovewithpandora @neteyamsoare @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @teymars @xrollingmyeyesx @goofygremlin123 @quicktosimp @its-jennarose @r11k4 @anonymuslydumb @winterhi09

[alchemistc]

okay….. can I ask about Buck in the hockey au?

Buck was a middling college player who got drafted in the third round after his team missed the Frozen Four, and he kind of labored in obscurity for a few years in the AHL before his current team picked him up trying to unload cap space to buy out a problem players contract.

Buck plays four regular season games with his new team before he gets sent back down. The company line is that he's just Not Ready but in actuality he's been hooking up with girls in visitor facilities and once in the team bus. His coach (the coach is Bobby I'm just still working out the details) tells him he sees a lot of potential in Buck, and he could make it if he could just find a way to get his head on straight.

Buck gets his head on straight. He kills it with the affiliate team, runs a point streak through twenty-three games as a defenseman, quarterbacks the power play to the point that fans of the NHL team are up in arms that he hasn't been called up.

They're playing with numbers, trying to give Buck as much ice time as possible while they lose the weight of one of their underperforming D-Men - the usual contract juggling. Then they call him up. He has a few good games, scores a few goals, has a wicked wrister from the blue line. He also scores an own goal against Chim his fourth game up and keeps taking stupid penalties. It's 2-4 penalty minutes a game for too many men or delay of game because he keeps getting too overexcited and slinging the puck over the glass instead of along the boards.

Abby works for TNT, and Buck catches her eye while she's between the pipes for a national broadcast game. She's got enough pull to get his number and they start up a phone based relationship.

Buck's team makes playoffs his first year, and gets slaughtered in the first round. Abby's mom dies and she takes a break from sports casting and Buck, not that she really lets him know that.

During the off-season Buck's team trades for a defenseman who's been in the KHL for a few years. His name is Eddie Diaz.

Buck hates him for about half a day. He feels like he's being replaced. He's worked so fucking hard to make it and now there's this guy who just gets a spot right away?

(They're best buds by the end of the week, and by the time the regular season starts they're playing 25 minutes a night as the top D-Pair)

Buck's career comes to a screeching halt in the second round of the playoffs that year when he gets tripped on a breakaway and slides awkwardly into the boards.

(No one makes the connection at the time, but the player who trips him is the same one one of their old wingers, Deluca, saved from the bottom of a dogpile years ago when a skate got way too close to his neck)

The injury isn't an easy one. There's no quick recovery time. Buck is just sort of stuck in limbo for a while. And then when he's cleared to return they find out there were complications. Coach Bobby benches Buck.

And Buck has been nothing but hockey for most of his life. It was the only way to get his parents to pay attention to him. The only outlet for all his anger. And he's good at it. He's the best. He could be the best, anyway.

Buck takes to twitter during his 'recovery' time. At first he's just posting stupid shit, but then people start paying attention to him. The PR dept does Not Like the way Buck calls out bullshit and trolls on Twitter. The GM gets involved, things blow up. Buck is reluctantly allowed back at practices and quickly jumps into game readiness.

And it's clear he's come back better.

The team toils for years in first and second round exits, and some of their stars are coming close to contract years, and they just can't break out. Buck places third for the Norris a few times, and he and Eddie are often talked about as one of the best Defensive pairings in the league, but their team is fast and light and they get beat to shit every time playoffs roll around. Eddie's feisty, he'll talk shit until the opposing bench is FUMING, he'll get scrappy along the boards, he'll duke it out when necessary, but he usually has to keep a lid on that because he can't let Buck down by getting injured.

At the end of year six for Buck, after a heartbreaking out, Buck's end of year presser goes viral when he talks about how he's been in the league for six years and hasn't won shit.

The fanbase panics because he's in his second to last contract year. If they can't contend, they're convinced he's gonna want out before the All-Star break. (None of them are aware that Buck would rather re-break his leg than leave this team he considers family, and his agent would like to keep it that way)

The team has a banner fucking year. They've got record game winning streaks and record point streaks and their aging goalie has never played better. He has four shutouts in the first half of the season. And Buck was never planning to leave so no one really broaches the contract thing. They'll figure it out in the off-season. Buck's got games to win.

With the trade deadline looming and Buck's team looking like a shoe-in for top of their conference, the front office makes a... strange move early in. They trade for Tommy Kinard. He's a bruiser, real old school type, skates like he's got bricks attached to his ankles but will knock a motherfucker down for looking sideways at his guys. He hasn't announced he's retiring at the end of the season, but he's planning to hang it up either way.

The team is hesitant about that, at first, once they know. He and Chim played together for a few years, and Chim welcomes him to the team by filling his car with golf balls. Pointed, maybe, but Tommy laughs it off, and retaliates, and the team starts to grow fond of him. BUCK starts to grow fond of him. Buck has a Cup run to worry about but Tommy is there, playing five minutes a night and knocking dudes on their ass that would normally be going for Buck and Eddie so consistently that Buck and Eddie feel a little invincible. People are second guessing whether or not they want to risk incurring the wrath of Kinard for a meaningless late March game.

And that is where I leave this because I'm actually seriously considering writing this fic now and that's about where I'd start it.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

ONE YEAR LATER

tangerine x fem!reader

word count. 912

synopsis. one year ago today, you and tangerine celebrated the birth of your daughter, mandarin - mandy for short. this special day also marks the anniversary of when you unintentionally saved his life - calling him home from his mission in tokyo.

warnings. fluff fluff fluff. all the fluff !!

note. posting this as a little gift for my 1 year writing anniversary💌 I don’t usually like or read baby/ pregnancy fics, so I have no idea why I wrote this😭 wanted it to be fluffy so everyone can enjoy xo

For you, today was a celebration of life - a day of reflecting on your greatest loves. Not only does today mark your daughter's very first birthday, but it's also the day when you unintentionally saved Tangerine's life.

Way back when, Tangerine was apprehensive about leaving your heavily pregnant self while he was away on a mission - all on your own without any help or care. At the time, your due date was a mere couple weeks away, so you reassured him constantly, saying that she wouldn't be out for a little while - and how you have friends and family who can step in if need be. Besides, back then, you were looking forward to having the bed to yourself, getting to sleep through those very few hours you got a night without your husband's snoring disrupting you. 

When you rang him up last year in the middle of the night -for you- you were crying and rambling about the pain of contractions, beckoning him back home to you and the baby. He never once questioned a thing, diverting the taxi driver to the airport instead of the train station.

He would never admit it, but he felt completely useless, only being able to encourage and help over a measly phone call, listening to you cry and wail without being able to touch or hold you. He stayed on the phone with you until he boarded the plane, praising you and telling you how he'll be with you in no time. 

That's why today was so important to you - to you both. It's the day your love returned home in one piece while simultaneously being blessed with another slightly cuter and smaller love.

As first-time parents, Mandy's birthday was a big deal - though she wouldn't remember it, you would. It's the kind of day you both want to remember: everything down to the second - every spilt drink, every smile, every word, just every little thing about the day.

Tangerine was out fetching some last-minute things for the party while you stayed back with your daughter, your little girl resting on your hip as you finished setting the table. It wasn't a big celebration with lots of people you feel obligated to invite, just a small, casual event with those you're closest with: Lemon on Tan's side and a few relatives on yours.

"Oh, I know," you sweetly coo, entertaining Mandy when she blabbers - diverting her fidgeting fingers away from the hem of your top. "He's taking forever, hm? I only asked him to get candles." 

You look down at your sweet little girl, her toothy grin mirroring your wide one. It was times like this when she looked like the spitting image of her father - light eyes lit up warm, all doe-like, gazing at you with a smile.

You make a playful gasp at Mandy when you hear the keys jingle in the front door, shaking her excitedly and rushing to meet Tan in the foyer. 

He walks in, a smile quickly spreading when he lands on you both - Mandy hooked on your hip, her grin just as bright as yours. 

"There's my girls," he says warmly, briefly kissing you on the cheek, then his daughter on hers. "Sorry, traffic was utter shit," he whispers to you, lingering a kiss on your lips.

He walks past you both, nodding for you to follow along, leading you to the kitchen island. He places a shopping bag on the counter and begins to rummage through it, searching for what seems to be surprises from the shop.

"Alright, alright. I know you said just cake candles, but," Tan proposes, drawing out the 'but' with a sly smile. "I couldn't not get something for the birthday girl," focusing his attention on Mandy, who is making grabby hands at him. "Here you go, poppet."

Tangerine picks up a bouquet of baby pink flowers from the bag and pulls out a singular peony, handing it to his daughter. His eyes soften as he looks over Mandy, watching how she displays her signature toothy smile, clearly pleased with her gift - even though it had absolutely no use to a one-year-old. The thought is what counts - it does to you anyway.

"Don't think I forgot about you," he softly smiles, his moustache twitching upwards. He hands you the original bouquet and an envelope. "I wrote it in the car. All I had was an Ikea pencil," he chuckles, suddenly bashful.

Your smile widens, nose scrunching, and eyes creasing - clearly appreciative of the sweet sentiment. Exchanging Mandy for the gifts, you open the card and read through his note, watching how he slipped through the kitchen doors, seemingly embarrassed.

"I know you do," you warmly call out to him from the other room, gesturing to his worded thanks for his appreciation towards you. "I appreciate you too, you know," your words quieten as you trail after him into the living room - getting closer to them. You plop onto the sofa beside him, sitting snuggly at his side with Mandy atop his lap. You slip your hand into his larger one, resting your head on his shoulder. "Like a whole lot."

And as you wait for your very few guests to arrive, you take the time to remember this moment - to enjoy it. You and your little family huddled on the couch, celebrating the day that reunited you all. 

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[apomaro-mellow]

Tommy + Carol Cameo on bingo Steddie, I feel like that could be interesting

Oooh let's do a second take on this. This one's post s4

Eddie watched from the door as Steve primped himself in the mirror. Normally it was endearing, sometimes even enough to get him hot. But tonight of all nights, it wasn't doing anything for him. Okay that was a lie, it was doing something for him but not as much as it usually did.

"You promised you would be nice", Steve said, fiddling with his hair like it wasn't already perfect.

"I promised I wouldn't bite. And you know that's different."

Steve wiped any product off his hands and then stuck his thumbs into the corners of Eddie's mouth. "I know." He let his thumbs trace his boyfriend's canines lovingly. "But you know what I meant Mr. Wordsmith."

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting across a from Tommy and Carol in the booth of a diner. Steve had run into Carol in the middle of the street and somehow they'd awkward conversationed themselves into having this double date.

After a long silence, Tommy spoke up first. "What are we even doing here? He dumped us, remember?"

"Yeah, a good fuckin' call if you ask me", Eddie said.

"Hey, you were the one bitching a fit when we found out they were dating", Carol said, glaring at Tommy.

"Because he-you know that he-", Tommy started and stopped.

"Carol said you guys wanted to make amends", Steve said. "I don't really know how, but I...", he took a breath. "You guys were grade A assholes but I was too. And I miss you...us." He took Eddie's hand under the table for strength.

"Yeah, well, why'd you never come back?", Tommy asked.

"Because I can't go back to that person. And it's not because of Nancy or anyone else. I'm not that person anymore."

"No, you're the kind who hangs out with losers. And now even worse you're hitching your wagon to a-"

"Don't", Steve stopped him in his tracks because he knew what word was about to drop from Tommy's lips. Murderer. Official reports didn't do much for small town opinions.

"But you know how it looks, right?", Carol raised a brow. "You're about to be like him, a town pariah."

Steve knew they believed what everyone else did. That Eddie was responsible for the Spring Break murders. He couldn't tell them everything, he wouldn't burden them with that but... He shared a look with Eddie before turning his attention back to them.

"I wanna show you guys something."

They went out behind the diner and Steve took a deep breath. "Eddie didn't do anything. It was...someone else. I can't tell you anything, but I can show you." Slowly, he lifted up his shirt to reveal the scars left behind by the bat bites.

Carol's hands went to her mouth while Tommy stood there with a heartbroken expression.

"Jesus, Stevie. Were you, were you fighting a bear or what? Shit."

"How are you-? What happened?", Carol whispered.

Steve let his shirt down. "I can't tell you everything. But I can say that I'd be dead if Eddie wasn't there." As well as Nancy and Robin, but Steve wouldn't bring up their names now. "Eddie's a goddamn hero. Even if this town will never know it, I won't stop saying it."

"I'd jump in that lake every time, tiger", Eddie smiled.

Carol had so many questions. And she was pretty sure only half of them would only be answered. But they had come here to make amends. And there was one way she could do that.

"So, if Munson wasn't responsible...if he was out there helping and s-saving you, then Jason Carver incited a whole mob based on what? Just hearsay?"

"Hearsay, conjecture, and a healthy dose of fearmongering", Eddie said, hands in his back pockets.

Carol and Tommy shared a look. She wiped some stray tears from her face and Tommy sniffled a bit as they composed themselves.

"Well, we can't make Eddie a hero. But we can do the next best thing", she said.

Eddie raised a brow, intrigued while Steve waited, already having an idea of what she had come up with.

"Gossip is a powerful thing. And Jason's not around to defend himself anymore", Carol said.

"And as I recall, you were pretty good at spitting venom too", Tommy said. "I know you said you're not that guy anymore, but what about using those powers for good?"

Steve considered it but not for very long. "Between the three of us, we could probably run his cronies and their families out of town."

Steddie bingo under the cut