#Ur giving me thoughts for a one shot that takes place several years after the bite

[and-stir-the-stars]

Got the brainworms.

A Nest Torn Empty, the month Mike is away. There are some flavors of trauma that might interestingly suit that scenario. These are just little brainstorms, don't feel like. Compelled to use them lmao

One might fit the idea of being medicalized, poked and prodded. Psych test after psych test, evaluations and therapy as it was in the eighties, possibly by particularly shitty professionals who try to go the therapy version of "bad cop" and INSIST mike is lying just to see if he breaks?

Another might be someone deciding to enact some kind of revenge on Evan's behalf. This could go any number of ways, but I think it would be interesting if someone who has been in Evan's position before decided to try and create some version of "a taste of his own medicine" for Mike, though obviously without the near death bit bc of plotlines etc.

And then there are less obvious things that kind of get left out. Being torn from your family all of the sudden is traumatic. He doesn't know what's going to happen to him, or to his brother and sister. Whether or not he's in another abusive place, the sheer amount of differences could throw him off. All the rules are different, all the people are different. He probably feels very isolated.

(You're giving me ideas for the au where Mike thinks Evan died after they're split up, lmao)

In terms of reactions, I think there might be more of a shutdown than his earlier behavior. If nothing he's doing yields ANY reaction– good or bad– then why bother? I think a lot of it would just lead him to be very tired by the end of it all.

Final aspect that I think would be interesting: as the kids grow up and actually learn to talk about the shitty upbringing they had, I think Mike's month away might fall to the wayside for a while. Nobody else thinks about it; it doesn't come up.

Eventually, though, it does need to be addressed. Maybe it kind of pales in comparison to the bite itself, but the experience still hurt.

(Or disregard all of this! Just brainstorming dhfjdkdksk)

okay first off I think it's so funny that I have to outsource all my "how would Mike react to xyz trauma" stuff to you,, like how dare you know him so well and have so many tantalizing Mike thoughts /honorary /pos

i think my initial idea was more along the lines of like,, Mike keeps insisting that he didn't mean to hurt Evan, but the more the psychiatrists poke and prod and question him, the less certain Mike is.

All of Mike’s claims that "I didn't know that would happen" and "i didn't mean for him to get hurt" and "i didn't want to kill him" are met with stuff like. "So there's no history of you hurting him?" "So Evan hasn't been put in danger by your actions before?" "So this behavior is a recent thing that came out of nowhere?" And just like. General questions that, whether asked out malice or from people genuinely trying to understand if Mike is a danger to himself or others, only serve to highlight in Mike’s mind that maybe he is inherently evil, because every time he swears that he didn't mean it, he's just met with a reminder of all the times he has in fact hurt Evan and others before and with the reminder that he could do it again at any time.

The idea that there are certain "professionals" there who just insist that Mike is lying about not meaning for the Bite in an effort to get him to cave and break???? Oooooh boy. Angsty, I love it. Maybe as time passes and Mike gets more and more frustrated, his "medical treatment" and "psychiatric professionals" just get worse and worse as a result of his lashing out. It starts out with the psychiatrists just trying to be thorough and get a detailed understanding of what happened, and the mere nature of their questioning frays Mike as he interprets their questions as them not believing him. He tells himself that he's crazy for feeling so attacked by them when they're professionals trained to help people, but like. It doesn't make the problem go away. Mike starts lashing out as he feels like they don't believe him. And his lashing out is ofc seen as signs of hostility, leading to worse and worse "treatment" (in both sense of the term), and leading to him being placed with awful "professionals" who blatantly tell him to his face now that he's lying about not meaning to hurt Evan to get Mike to break.

And the whole experience just, like, shreds every sense of faith Mike had in his own judgment. He doesn't know what to do or think anymore, and it doesn't matter anyway, because no matter WHAT he does or thinks it has the same result of people just. Making him feel cruel and evil, like he'll inevitably hurt someone, like he's a monster and has always been a monster and is trying to manipulate everyone here in the psych facility and everyone he's ever known into thinking he's NOT a monster for his own personal gain.

Worst thing is that in Mike’s eyes, these are strangers who don't even know him or know anything about him, and yet they don't NEED to know him to know that he's evil. Mike coming to the conclusion that theres something so fundamentally broken about him that people can PHYSICALLY SEE IT, he reeks of it, it's the first thing people see when they look at him, the ONLY thing people see. People don't even need to know him to see straight into the evil in his heart. Which is only furthered when he goes back home and all these classmates he never talked to before are calling him a murderer, not to mention Liz's ambivalent reaction to seeing him again.

#Like low key there's an ask sitting in my inbox abt how saffron mike would react to smth #And I've just been staring at it like. No idea my guy. I am not the mike expert here. Lmao #Now I'm thinking about mike begging and praying for william to come get him out of this facility #And will not doing so feeds into Mike’s reluctance to trust will later on #And feeds into mikes frustration that will has been so absent #ie the scene where mike freaks out in ch1 of bcoh and he's like. FATHER should be #The one giving ev his meds so he doesn't try ripping his own head off from the pain so WHERE IS HE?? #Like Will just. Consistently does this #Also mike not knowing what's gonna happen to him or liz or evan... #Do the psychiatrists even tell mike whether or not ev is still alive? #Does mike assume that liz is in a psych facility herself? She didn't cause the bite but SHE has been hurting ev too #Does mike wonder if he's ever getting out of here #And then no one in the fam talking about mike's month away!!! #Ur giving me thoughts for a one shot that takes place several years after the bite #With evan begging mike to stop pushing him away #And mike is just. So traumatized not just from going thru this but from no one talking or caring abt it #(On top of his normal trauma abt not wanting to burden/hurt anyone w his issues and not feeling they're important #And and and plus all the time mike spent trying to reach out to ev after the bite only for ev to be so traumatized that he kept #Rejecting mike) that he can't stop holding people at arms length. #A nest torn empty #my brother my wound #tw medical malpractice #Tw child abuse

[comfortbucky]

I asked for the doctor!bucky andd you don't have to write but I forgot to ask... He is like a really busy doctor and it surprises the female reader that he is going to do her stitches... Wanda is his assistant. He has to give you a pain numbing shot in your cut and he comforts you when you scream and writh in pain... Thanks xxx

𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆ ⋆｡˚

pairing: doctor!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: descriptions of bloody injuries, medical settings, stitches, needles

A/N: omg i’ve never written for doctor!bucky before so i’m excited hehe :) thank u for ur request! // i changed around who was administering the numbing agent and doing the stitches btw i hope u don't mind, just made more sense in my head for bucky to be able to comfort her if his hands are free!

hope u enjoy! <3 sorry if this isn't that good asjdfhaldf

Y/L/N = your last name

also let me just indulge myself and sprinkle some of my own experiences in this bc a couple months ago i literally slammed my head into a wall and cut my eyelid😃nothing bad enough to get stitches but i do have a scar💗

word count: 2k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

“Y/N! Come quick!”

Y/N was digging through her dresser for a sweater when her roommate, Darcy, called out for her. She lifted her head up and spun it without thinking, completely forgetting that her dresser was situated in the corner of her room, slamming her head into the wall.

Her ears started to ring and she bent over in laughter, her natural response to pain, as tears threatened to fall down her face.

“Y/N?” Darcy was met by silence, Y/N struggling to respond, her body overcome with laughter so hard she was inaudible. Concerned that Y/N had knocked herself out cold, Darcy peeked her head around the corner of Y/N’s doorway, to find her hurled over, a hand over her left eye, drops of crimson blood on the ground.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Y/N lifted her head, calming down from her fit of laughter, and nodded.

“Yeah, of course, this would happen to me,” she replied chuckling, taking a tissue from Darcy to put pressure on her cut.

Carefully making her way to a mirror, Y/N grabbed her phone on the way. She stared at her reflection and slowly removed the tissue from her face to examine the extent of her injury. It was steadily bleeding, most likely a bad sign. Y/N placed her tissue back over her cut and reached for her phone and Facetimed her friend Matt, an EMT.

“Hello- What the fuck happened to you?”

“Hi Matt,” she replied, shooting him a grin through the screen. “Slammed my head against the wall, by accident.”

“I would hope so,” he sighed. “Let me guess, you’re wondering whether you should go to the ER or not?”

“You know me so well, Matty.”

“Has it stopped bleeding?” Y/N removed the tissue and felt a warm liquid trail down the side of her face.

“No.”

“Go to the ER, please.” She groaned.

If there was one place in the world she despised, it was a hospital. But Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to convince either of her friends otherwise, and dragged her feet as she reluctantly followed Darcy to her car.

It was a normal night in the ER, which meant a fury of organized chaos. Bucky found himself needed in 6 places, all at the same time. But this was an environment that he had become accustomed to, almost finding comfort in the madness of it all. Although the ER was bustling with patients, there weren’t any injuries that were very severe, mostly just broken bones and lacerations. Simple enough to the point where Bucky felt like he was operating on autopilot mode. Going through the motions of whatever task he needed to do, but not anything more than that. He felt numb. For the last several years of his life, the hospital was all that he knew. Bucky kept himself busy with work, leaving him with only a small social circle and his cat, Alpine. It was enough for him, but he never really felt complete. Which is why he threw himself into his work, drowning out his inner thoughts about a missing piece he never thought he’d find.

“Dr. Barnes, paging Dr. Barnes to bed 25.”

Bucky took a quick sip of his coffee and sighed before heading off to see his next patient. Wanda appeared from around the corner and started walking with him.

“This one’s a simple laceration, just might need stitches.” Bucky nodded in response to her, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

She was one of the select few who he considered a friend. Which was a little odd considering he was an attending and she was only a resident. But she was a good student, a fast learner, and one of the only residents he was ever willing to work with. He took her under his wing, fostering a friendship by spending time together in his office, reviewing various medical cases and files.

“Alright, you up to do them?”

Wanda came to a halt, Bucky taking a couple steps before looking back at her, tilting his head, waiting for a response.

“Y-Yeah, yes!” She stammered. “T-thank you, Dr. Barnes.” He nodded his head and turned back around to continue walking, Wanda close behind.

Y/N was sat on the edge of the bed, one hand holding a blood-soaked tissue over her left eye. Her leg was bouncing, a nervous tic she had developed from a young age. The adrenaline had worn off, forcing her to feel a throbbing pain, her eyes brimming with tears. She avoided crying in front of people whenever possible, so as soon as Darcy left to grab some coffee and snacks from the cafeteria, she let the floodgates open. The sound of footsteps approaching made her freeze and she used her sleeves to sloppily wipe away the tears that were streaming down her face.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

A firm, but somehow also gentle, voice called out to her before the curtain was pulled open to reveal a tall man with dark brown hair, a stubbly beard, and stunningly blue eyes standing next to a woman with blazing red hair and contrasting green eyes. Y/N’s gaze was immediately fixated on the man’s eyes, unable to look away for a moment, before she realized she was staring. She quickly looked down and cleared her throat.

“Y/N, you can just call me Y/N.”

The man nodded and set down his clipboard at the end of the bed before speaking.

“I’m Dr. Barnes and this is Dr. Maximoff.” The woman gave a slight wave as she began charting on a computer. “Can I take a look at your eye?”

Y/N nodded, feeling her anxiety rise as the doctor pulled some gloves on and approached her.

He pulled over a stool to sit on and carefully removed the tissue that Y/N had been holding in place to assess the injury. While Bucky looked at her cut, he stole a glance to study the rest of her face. He couldn't help but take note of the pained look on her face, her eyes still watery and her button nose red from crying. It was the first time in a long time that he felt a twinge of pain while looking at someone's injury, that he felt practically anything at all during a shift. She felt his warm breaths on her face for a moment before he pulled away and replaced her bloody tissue with some gauze.

“Do you mind if she takes a look as well?” Y/N nodded again. Bucky got up from the stool, allowing Wanda to take his spot and assess her eye.

“So it looks like you just need 2 or 3 stitches, very simple procedure.”

Y/N felt her entire body tense up at Wanda's conclusion. She could barely stand sitting in a hospital bed alone and now she was about to get poked and prodded with needles. Bucky noticed and attempted to ease her worries.

"We'll administer a numbing agent, so you won't feel any pain, just pressure at the site."

She looked up at Bucky, who had a kind, tired expression on his face. It looked like he was having a long night and she didn't want to make his job any more difficult than it probably already was. Y/N gave him a small nod and Wanda started to gather the necessary supplies.

She laid back in bed with Wanda and Bucky sitting next to each other on her left. Her hands were folded on her stomach, eyes shut.

"You're gonna feel a slight pinch, okay?" She nodded and bit her lip to try and distract herself.

Wanda proceeded to administer the numbing shot and Y/N squeezed her hands tight, whimpering in pain. Bucky observed the pained expression on her face and placed a hand on her forearm, reflexively rubbing his thumb in small circles. When Wanda pulled the needle out, Y/N slowly fluttered her eyes open and was greeted by Bucky's warm smile. A blush crept to her cheeks and she turned her attention to the ceiling. Immediately, Bucky realized how unprofessional his action was and removed his hand. He had no idea what had come over him, but he'd never felt so drawn to someone like this before.

"Now I'm going to do the stitches, okay? You should just feel a slight pressure." Just as before, Y/N shut her eyes after Wanda spoke and gripped her hands tight. She felt the pressure that Wanda was talking about and couldn't help but squirm at the feeling. Another wave of anxiety rushed over her and she felt herself start to hyperventilate.

Wanda removed the needle and quickly turned to Bucky, a panicked look on her face. He gave her a reassuring look before speaking softly.

"Y/N? Do you think you could hold still for just a little longer?" She opened her eyes, brimming with tears.

"Sorry, I just, I hate needles." Y/N fiddled with her hands as she kept her gaze up, trying to avoid the tears from escaping. Bucky felt his heart sink in his chest at the sight.

"What do you think would help you relax?"

Thoughts ran through her head as she tried to find a solution to relieve her anxiety. Y/N thought back to when she was young and chuckled, remembering a stuffed whale that she got at an aquarium, that went everywhere with her.

"This is stupid but, when I was a kid, I would carry around this stuffed animal around and it helped to hold it whenever I had to get shots."

Bucky thought for a moment and ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he was going to regret the words about to leave his mouth.

"You could hold my hand."

Y/N and Wanda both looked at him with surprised expressions, regret instantly hitting him.

"If you're comfortable with it," he quickly clarified. Y/N felt the corner of her mouth curve into a smile as she nodded.

She laid back down and Bucky took her hand in his. The instant transfer of heat soothed Y/N and she shut her eyes to allow Wanda to get to work.

When she felt the pressure on her eye again, her hand automatically gripped Bucky's tighter, and he squeezed it back to help calm her. Y/N focused on the callousness of his hands, how his hand seemed to fit into hers perfectly. Suddenly, she was thinking about his eyes again, those glimmering blue eyes. Blue was always a calming color for her, reminiscent of her trip to the aquarium where she got her beloved stuffed whale. As she felt Bucky's thumb gently rub the top of her hand, she realized that her whale could never provide as much comfort as he did.

Bucky felt a sense of pride as he watched the tension in Y/N's face disappear. Suddenly, he found his eyes wandering, looking at the loose strands of hair on the right side of her face, the rosiness of her cheeks, how she glowed. His heart started to palpate and Bucky realized a flame had kindled inside him. He was feeling again.

"All done!" Wanda chirped, stepping aside to let Bucky check her work. He smiled at her patted her on the back with his free hand.

"You did good." Wanda beamed and thanked him, walking away to complete her charting.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, still feeling the warmth of Bucky's hand in hers. He greeted her with a tender smile and slowly helped her up, placing his other hand on the small of her back.

"See? Wasn't that bad after all," he grinned, releasing her hand. Y/N's smile faltered, missing his touch, and nodded.

"Thank you, Dr. Barnes."

"Bucky," he stated. She raised an eyebrow. "Call me Bucky."

The pair stared at each other in silence, enjoying each other's presence before the PA system snapped them both out of their trance.

"Dr. Barnes, paging Dr. Barnes to bed 16."

Bucky sighed, slowly getting up from his seat.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N."

"You too, Bucky."

He turned around and was about to pull the curtain open when he paused, turning back around to face Y/N, scratching the back of his head. It took one look at her face and Bucky knew he didn't want to let her go just yet.

"Would you like to get coffee sometime?" She beamed up at him and Bucky felt his knees go weak.

"I would like that very much." He chuckled in disbelief and smiled.

Bucky had finally found his missing piece.

#bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x fem!reader #fem!reader #bucky x fem!reader #doctor!bucky #au doctor bucky #soft!bucky #grumpy!bucky #fluffy!bucky #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #soft!bucky x reader #fluffy!bucky x reader

[lantsovsupremacist]

nikolai lantsov: maybe

this was going to be smut and it still is but i apologize i went from listening to dress to hope ur okay so it’s all over the place here with angst.

warning of some swear words? some smut (fem receiving). mentions of drinking and getting drunk. pre-sab.

at eighteen, the world was dizzying with overwhelming opportunity.

the age held the anticipation of beginning a life of your own. sure, the second army owned you even more now than before, but your night of graduation from the little palace’s grisha school still excited you. the fancy sapphire dress gifted to you by the royals reminded you of the waves glittering at night under the moonlight, an obvious nod to your role as a tide maker.

the two glasses of champagne at dinner went down like water. you turned corner after corner in your head to give chase but you could not find even the slightest buzz. with a frown, you kicked open the back door of the kitchen and quietly slipped inside.

the only source of light crept across the floor, directing you to the back. the muted colors surrounding you became brighter the further you walked. you smile expanded.

“little late to your own party aren’t we now?”

your eyes rolled around in your head before settling on the slouched body of the blonde prince, barely upright against a crate. taking quick steps to meet him in the corner, you shoved his legs aside for the extra room. the clear bottle of what you assumed from his breath to be kvas made its way into your hands.

“fuck you, nikolai. you obviously had no problem starting without me.”

a lazy and crooked smirk crept onto his face. it righted itself into a small smile as he watched you down more than a shot’s worth straight from the source. maybe it was simply because of the warmth from the booze, but he swore your knuckles chilled him as they passed over his on their mission to grasp the neck of the bottle.

you minded his touch with the suppression of a shudder. you had yet to consume enough alcohol to relax into it. instead, you examined his own outfit. whatever sophistication he had been meant to pull off was lost on his now untucked shirt and crooked tie.

the delicate knit of his brows whenever he finished laughing could never change, though. even when the prince was more commonly referred to as sobachka than nikolai and you could barely muster a change of moisture in the air, the expressions of your best friend remained steadfast. you took the constant as a comfort.

you kicked off of your heels, climbing onto the counter rather gracefully and snagging a bottle of something stronger. he stepped up to watch you and eyed your footing warily. when you opened one of the bottles and threw your head back at the smell, he knew you had found exactly what the both of you were looking for. he offered you a hand down, which you accepted gratefully.

four shots deep. that is how many it took for you to lose all sense of composure around nikolai. the golden boy in front of you—your best friend—was quite the picture with twisted curls and red cheeks.

and saints had you been pining after him for the past few years. while grisha belonged to a higher class than the commoners, you were still a soldier. he was still a prince. you both had jobs to do, roles to fill, and expectations to fulfill.

you presumed that was his threshold as well. with each glass thrown back, he had shifted closer and closer to you. his eyes trailed down your figure more times than you could count. shamelessly. while neither of you dared the waves between the two of you, the current had been pulling you to one another for years. neither denial nor acceptance.

“do you want me as badly as i want you?” he gathered any sobriety left in him and questioned you, “because as striking as you are in that dress i wouldn’t mind taking it off.”

nikolai lantsov could have been telling you one of his most elaborate lies, and it would not have mattered in the slightest. after sitting through a long night of speeches and passing through mindless congratulations, anything would seem more appealing. however, the golden boy in front of you did not require any of those excuses to be utterly intoxicating.

you could no longer be patient. he tasted like kvas and whatever you had both taken several shots of. it was shared between the two of you now, tongues intermingling in the warmth of each other’s mouths. the rush that started in your head worked into a distinct want at your core.

everything he touched turned to liquid gold, fire melting all of your fine edges to be molded by his hands. once his fingers trailed across your jaw they separated, one hand tangling in your hair and the other skating the curve of your spine. he pressed deeper into you, forcing you to nearly climb on top of him on the floor before he pulled you upright.

when you ran out of skin to attach your lips to, you brought an unsteady hand to his collar. his fingers left their place caught up in your hair and swiftly grasped your wrist before dropping it as a warning. he made an attempt to bring his hands down to the hem of his button down before you used his own ploy against him and smacked it away.

“you made me wait this long,” you breathed out, shaking with pleasure, “let me enjoy this, prince perfect.”

recognizing your admission as an action of teasing and not discomfort, he quickly replied, “we’ll have plenty of time for that later, baby.”

the sly drop of the affectionate bookend to his words did not go unnoticed. as if you were not already putty in his hands, you let him slip his hands into yours and guide them down to his waist. together, you brought his shirt over his head. his body instantly radiated heat inside of the cramped kitchen corner. following his lead, you planted his hand firmly on your shoulder, helping him push aside the sleeve of your kefta and slender strap of your gown.

“see,” his tongue glossed over your collarbones and his teeth lightly grazed your skin, “isn’t this much better?”

you stomped on his foot before throwing a look over your shoulder. eyeing the empty counter, you hopped backwards onto the surface and greedily reached out for nikolai. despite his teasing, he readily accepted your offer and closed the space you had made between the two of you. almost immediately, he made quick work of reaching behind you and undoing the back of your dress. you arched your back to aid him, cursing under your breath at just how skilled he was.

once the jeweled top was pushed down your chest and pooled around your waist, he brought a hand back to your chest. his mouth quickly followed. you gripped his shoulder, the other finding any part of his waist to claim. you felt his muscles tense and then react under your palm.

you wanted him. you wanted this. and fortunately, you had quite the reputation of getting what you wanted.

everything inside of you ached to be touched by nikolai. you felt the incessant need of developing him as a habit. as soon as the thought of the inevitable consequences of your best friend pressing your knees apart entered your head, you quickly banished it.

he was a picture. his hair had started to splay across and stick to his forehead. you pushed his curls back, locking on his eyes as blue as the seas. you trailed your hand down to trail your thumb across his lips before taking his neck to bring his lips to yours. at first, it was drawn out and warm. his tongue explored your mouth thoroughly. then, it was sparks as you quickly and greedily kissed a new part of his lips each second.

you gasped at his sudden touch under your skirt. pleasure pooled downward while his fingers fought upward. it was an explosion of anticipation in your stomach as he lowered himself to a knee, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. you steadied yourself on the top of the cabinets, the feeling of falling building in your core.

“i-,” you fought back a premature moan as you squirmed on the counter, “i think you’re enjoying this a little too much.”

he kissed up your calf, following after his fingers and responded without looking up, “i live to please.”

you shivered at the sensation of his lips on your skin. suddenly and without warning, there was so much more. you squeezed his shoulder, breaths getting more shallow with each passing second. dropping his fingers, he quickly returned to attend to the bundle of nerves with his mouth. his tongue swirled in circles, once again dizzying you.

“mhm,” you struggled to find words, “saints, nikolai.”

his name on your lips nearly drove him over the edge. he kept a hand situated on your inner thigh but greedily wrapped the other around the back of your head. you all but encouraged his haste, dropping your leg from his shoulder and hooking it around one of his. you rolled your hips into his, drawing him closer than ever before.

you studied the lines of his body with your hands, committing each muscle to memory. you indulged in the hands on activity. his hand rubbing up your leg did not help slow your heart rate, which you are entirely sure you did not want, either way. you littered his chest and stomach with marks from your lips.

“i leave next week for my service.”

your lips dropped from his neck. the absence of heat and the distinct thud of his pulse pounding in between kisses could not compare to the plummet of your heart into your stomach. suddenly, you felt the effects of the last hour’s consumption all at once.

you swallowed hard, fighting to keep down the alcohol. running your tongue quickly over your lips, you took advantage of the second it gave you to study the boy’s face in front of you. his eyes avoided yours at all costs, making it all the more difficult to read his emotions.

his lips were swollen. cheeks painted with the hues of a rosy sunset. you wanted to know what shade of blue his eyes appeared to be now, but he still would not look at you.

deciding to blame it on the inebriation, you allowed your next statement to go unfiltered, “so that’s it,” you hiccuped, “i was just going to be a way to get your mind off of that, huh?”

the impending breakdown of years of friendship turned your stomach in an unpleasant way. you muttered a curse or three under your breath as you gathered the layers of your now wrinkled skirt in your hands, moving to stand up unsteadily. the movement forced his hand off of your inner thigh. he kept his other around the curve of your waist, fingers tapping a nervous pattern. you moved to push those off, as well, but he gripped your hip bone.

“don’t,” he said easily, attempting a sultry confidence but his seduction had worn off.

a different kind of want pooled in the seas of his eyes. it was no longer desire but desperation. you were sure yours were a mirror image.

“don’t make it too hard for me to let you go,” you stumbled, “don’t leave me,” your words bubbled over drunken and quivering lips.

nikolai bit into his lip at the sight of your tears. it might have been painful but it was a superficial, barely skimming the surface kind of hurt. the sight of your eyes welling up and the unsteady rise and fall of your chest ran much deeper. he felt like a blade was slowly slicing himself in two jagged and incomplete pieces.

his breath skipped in his throat and he fumbled for his words just as much as he did your hands, “i-you,” he was not sure if it was smart to say all that he really wanted to but it was true, “come with me.”

you looked up at him, daring to hope that you could find truth in his eyes. composing yourself by clearing your throat, you ran a hand through your hair, “you know i can’t.”

he was quick with his retort, “but you’ve graduated now! i could surely convince my father of the need for such protection.”

as much as your heart drew to his, like it was made to match the opposing pole of his the magnet embedded in his own, you could not agree with him, “nikolai as much as i appreciate the offer,” you ignored the way his smile dropped for the sake of your own ability to continue, “what life would that give me? one where i rely on you to give orders so that i can be by your side?”

“i need you by my side.”

“but will you be on mine?”

maybe you did not know how to live without nikolai. you tried to stumble away from him but you barely made it a step before you started to slip. right as his hand went to steady you, you finally let the tears fall. they were wicked and raw and unforgiving.

suddenly, your head was pounding and the remaining layers of your dress seemed to suffocate you. you had nearly slept with your best friend and now, he was leaving. you fought the thoughts telling you—screaming at you—that he only did this now and not years before because he was leaving. he would not have to do damage control on your heart or the relationship once shared between the two of you.

“i’ve got to go,” you sniffed, pulling up your dress and wiping away both tears and shame from your eyes, “zoya will be worried.”

she would not be. in fact, your best friend had covered for your outings with nikolai on multiple occasions and knew to expect you late. what would really worry her—if she even possessed such capabilities of expressing this incredibly human emotion—would be the state you returned in, one you never got in after visiting nikolai.

“please,” nikolai begged, “i know that you could go anywhere. maybe at first you wouldn’t fit in but you’re the puzzle piece nobody even knows they’re missing yet,” his words gave you pause, “i know you hate being thought of as anything but your own person, of being a soldier in a royal’s world, a woman in a man’s,” he continued with a deep breath, “but i need you to complete me. please, let me live in your world.”

you wanted everything that he spoke of but his words started to fade away. your thoughts were too loud and overpowering. they demanded an audience. it was hard to get out of your own head but you could not let nikolai distract you.

“it would never work,” you sighed dismally, “we would never work.”

“let me try,” nikolai pleaded, turning your hands over in his and sounding so young despite the heavy topic.

“i can’t take you away from your service,” you disallowed with a shake of your head, “from your travels, nikolai. i know you want all of that—,”

“i want you.”

“but you don’t need me.”

“maybe that’s true,” nikolai relented with a unique fervor in his eyes, “maybe i don’t need to be in love with you but i want to.”

you had been speechless on only a few occasions. you always had words or could be sure to find some. it was something nikolai appreciated and an annoyance for zoya.

nikolai wanted to be in love with. you reminded yourself that this admission did not mean that he was, simply that he wanted to be. you wanted to be a lot of things and they had certainly not come to fruition. he was a fool for deeming it even probable—not in the world you both inhabited, the very different roles you played.

you stole a tear from his cheek with your thumb, “i need my best friend, nikolai,” you nearly choked on your words, “i need to love you in that way, understand?”

his frown deepened. you could tell he was fighting it. everything. you managed a smile because you expected him to do this. he could learn to fly with broken wings if he wanted to, if he needed to.

you took his jaw in your hands, delicately murmuring for only him to hear, “you are so good and i am so proud of you. don’t think that i will not be your fiercest protector wherever i am.”

nothing could exist forever. for this one moment, you wanted it to be. you wanted to allow him to hold you, to kiss you, to carry you. you knew he would do all of it and more. but, you could not submit him to that.

“i love you,” he breathed out with whatever air he could conjure. his forehead rested against your own and his thumbs swirled color into your cheeks.

“i love you back,” you whispered for your best friend, your pocket merlin, jack of all trades, your person.

you tried to close the door, but he had jammed his foot in it stubbornly. you could not find it in you to slam it shut on him. you could not hurt him. so, you left it cracked. you would turn the lights off but take every ray of his light that slipped through the cracks.

#nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone #rule of wolves #ruin and rising #siege and storm #sab netflix #sab fic #sab fanfic #sab fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fluff

[spencersawkward]

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

#matthew gray gubler #mgg smut #mgg oneshot #mgg x reader

[pluviophile-imagines]

LOWI CONGRATS ON THE FOLLOWER MILESTONE!! 🥺💞💞💞 u deserve it and so much more!! for the kiss prompt could i get 18 with shinsou ?? 🥺👉👈

TYSM SOFFFF so uh. I’ve been fuckin stupid dkfnskfb my dumbass rlly wrote Shinsou correctly on my master post like a week ago and then still managed to write for Shigaraki instead when it came to the actual piece 😳 so thanks to my handyman brainrot you get two—that’s right, two!—characters for the price of one ur welcome ♥️ I cheated a lil bit so shinsou;s not sitting in the reader’s lap it’s just his head but i think its cute 🥺 also Shiggy’s is like twice as long as ive been trying to write them oops i rlly like the jealous reader premise 👉👈 it’s under the read more bc of that and bc of kiiiinda spoilers? if yall arent caught up to the manga you won’t get it but if u are it’s canonical. Whew that was a lot! Enjoy!

Kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

Shinsou

To say that your relationship with Shinsou is new would be an understatement. You’ve been friends for years—ever since the third year of high school when you’d been assigned to him as his support—but you’ve never been particularly close until recently when you’d once again found yourself working on his hero costume and support items.

He’d only asked you out yesterday after nearly two months of tension-filled glances and fleeting touches. Now, the two of you are watching a movie at your mutual friend Kirishima’s apartment, sitting quite awkwardly on a loveseat and pretending like you don’t want to get closer to each other. You haven’t told your friends yet about your new relationship status, but that’s not entirely what’s holding you two back. If anything, it’s run-of-the-mill first date awkwardness (if watching a movie with six of your closest friends around can be considered a date), too afraid to initiate anything.

The movie’s dull; the two of you have pulled out your phones to snark at each other through text, a strategy you’d begun weeks ago after being hushed one too many times by Kaminari because you were talking too loudly. The bright screens probably aren’t all that much better, but you two are in the back anyway; nobody can see it unless they turn away from the TV.

You risk a glance up and end up locking eyes with Shinsou. Your face heats up, heartbeat quickening, as he gives you a charming smile. You watch him glance around the room, unsure at first why he’s doing it until he turns his attention back to you and slowly, silently, moves over across the loveseat into your personal space.

Your legs are touching now, faces so close your nose is nearly brushing his. One of his hands has come to brace against the armrest you’re leaning on, allowing him to stay leaning in.

“Hey,” he says, little more than a whisper and clearly hushed so the others don’t hear.

“Hey yourself,” you respond, earning yourself a low snort.

Instead of vocally responding, he pushes himself back up to a sitting position and then moves his hands to maneuver your legs until you’re no longer curled up against the couch’s backing but sitting like a normal person.

Then he lays down, head resting on your thighs, and turns to face the movie.

You’re grinning uncontrollably. All possible self-conscious thoughts of the others seeing you are dashed from your mind; you like the weight of him in your lap too much.

You spend much of the rest of the movie like that, easily over half an hour. A few minutes in he reaches down to find your hand and bring it to his hair, encouraging you to stroke it. It’s even softer than you’ve imagined in the past, fluffy and thick and genuinely nice to run your hands though. There’s a surge of contentment that rushes through you, and maybe a little bit of pride at the knowledge that you can do this pretty much any time you want now.

By the end of the film, you’re pretty sure Shinsou’s fallen asleep. He gives you the scare of your life, however, when he grabs your arm as you’re trying to pull away. His eyes open, purple irises trained on you.

What happens next you blame on grogginess, him still not quite being awake. He blames it on you; whenever you mention it, he says he saw you and had become consumed with an overwhelming desire to just lean up and kiss you. Whatever the reason, it’s nice for you.

His hand comes up to the back of your neck, tugging you down just as much as he lifts up. It begins soft, kind of sweet, just lips as the two of you melt into each other—but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Within moments the two of you morph the kiss from a quick peck after a movie to a very passionate makeout, and frankly you’d be more concerned if they hadn’t interrupted the two of you.

You pull away when you hear Kaminari’s wolf whistle, left sitting on the loveseat with a burning face and your boyfriend in your lap, still half asleep.

Shigaraki

You’re not jealous.

No, you’ve been dating Tomura for months. You can’t be jealous when he’s, well, yours, and has been for quite some time. You’re his first relationship, his first everything, and it’s frankly foolish of you to feel this insecure just because some floozy is simpering at him from across the enormous room where you and the rest of the League are scattered about. It’s not like she really wants him, or even knows him; he’s just the hew big-shot leader and she’s decided being his lover sounds good. Too bad that role’s already taken.

Still, there’s a sinking feeling in your chest—an ache in your heart, a burning lump in your throat—that says now that Tomura is Grand Commander he’ll drop you for someone better.

You don’t realize you’re glaring daggers at the woman until she catches your eye. She has no business looking that smug; the only reason she’s allowed in the room is to give Tomura reports. You’re the one lounging next to him as she approaches; he has your legs over his lap, his thumb absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your thigh.

And when she bends down to drop the report on his lap (as if your damn legs aren’t there, you want to scoff) she draws the eyes of every League member except the one she wants, because you’re the one who has Tomura’s attention.

He’s wearing Father, but you’ve long passed being afraid when he looks at you from between those lifeless digits and you can see the expression beneath; those lips tugging down slightly in a pout, brow furrowed, eyes far softer than they have any damn business being while hiding behind the severed hand of his old man. He’s concerned, and a little confused.

Tomura plucks the report from your legs and sets it aside, reaching to pull you fully into his lap. To your surprise he takes Father off, too; he buries his face into your neck to prevent the outsider from seeing, lips just brushing your ear so that you can hear him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been pouting ever since the secretary came in, brat.”

Like hell you’re saying anything in front of her. You remain stubbornly silent.

He doesn’t like that, you can tell, but while the secretary’s interest is lost on him he knows you well enough to tell that you’re uncomfortable with her. Presumably that’s why he doesn’t press the issue and kisses you instead.

You don’t expect it. Tomura’s not exactly one to shy away from PDA (you’re sitting in his lap in front of the whole League, for fuck’s sake), but intimacy is something he’s never wanted to take beyond closed doors. When he’s in a sour mood you’ll kiss him sometimes, even in public (he’s invigorated by your affection in many way, but never anything you’d call heated.

This kiss, though, is. It’s anything but chaste, perhaps even downright lewd. He’s all but initiating a makeout with you while Miss Secretary is standing right there. Maybe his affection-motivated ways are rubbing off on you, but it helps more than it probably ought to.

You’re dazed by the time he pulls away. The sound of the door slamming closed snaps you from your trance. The secretary, ploy foiled simply by your annoyed expression, had left. It doesn’t matter. None of this was ever really about her in the first place.

“There,” Tomura says, audibly quite pleased with himself. “She’s gone. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, leaning in to tuck your own head into his shoulder. Your voice is muffled when you speak, quiet so that only he can hear.

“It’s dumb.”

“It’s bothering you,” he says simply. There’s an underlying statement there: tell me so I can destroy it for you. In many ways, Tomura is a predictable man.

You know he’s not going to drop it, so you accept your fate. “She was making a pass at you.”

He tenses beneath you, holding you closer. You risk lifting your head from where it’s buried to see the way his nose is scrunched up. “She wasn’t.”

“Yeah, she was.”

There’s a pause, like he’s processing everything you’re saying. Then, seemingly finally registering what exactly is bothering you, his hands move to grip your hips and maneuver you to straddle him, sitting fully on his lap facing him. “Fine. Why’re you pissed about it, then?”

You lean in again, arms coming to wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his chest and try to ignore the tears that are coming. You’d never be able to live it down if any of the others saw you crying over the fucking secretary.

But you know more than anyone thanks to many late nights assuring your boyfriend he’s the only one for you that Tomura can empathize with this insecurity. It’s a little strange how the script has flipped.

“She’s a high ranking MLA member, she probably has some crazy strong quirk. I’m quirkless. I dunno. I guess I’m scared you’ll drop me for someone like her. Like I said, it’s dumb.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. You sit there, listening to his heartbeat and matching your breathing to his. Then he speaks.

“Your emotions aren’t dumb. It’s okay that you’re feeling this way. Thank you for telling me.” He’s parroting you, you realize; this is what you tell him every time he comes to you for comfort when he’s gotten in a mood. You feel a little fuzzy, warmth flooding your chest. “But I think we both know they’re irrational.”

“Tomura… I—”

“I’m not interested in some lame-ass NPC,” he interrupts, no hesitation and entirely sincere. He doesn’t even need to think about it. “You’re my player two, my endgame. The only thing in this world worth protecting. You really think that secretary can hold a candle to you? I didn’t even notice her. Why would I when you’re here?”

You can’t help it, you surge upward and kiss him, just as passionately as he had you mere moments before. His right hand traces up your spine to find the back of your neck and pull you closer, sending a thrill through your body as your own arms tighten around him.

“Oi! Horndogs! Get a damn room, don’t make us see that!”

You break away at Dabi’s words, panting slightly, and if the sincerity of Tomura’s little rant hadn’t convinced you that his words were true, the look of utter adoration he’s regarding you with would have.

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #mha x reader #mha imagines #shinsou x reader #shinsou imagine #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi imagine #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura imagine #shimura tenko x reader #shimura tenko imagines #myherowritings #ask.🌧 #mine.🌧 #event.🌧 750 follower prompts #char.🌧 shinsou #char.🌧 shigaraki #pluvi’s pals

[honeybeesiness]

an unholy holiday.

word count: 2k.

slight nsfw warning! dw tho, there’s absolutely no smut and it’s 97% fluff. it’s just the reader being a tiny bit of a thottie ;).

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two limited edition sucre frenzy tickets.

The next day was your day with the beloved otaku Leviathan. Based off the kind of person he was, you figured that he would want to watch some anime with you or take you to a convention somewhere in Devildom (or the human world if you’re lucky). Binging the TSL series in the beginning of the year for the quiz against Levi proved beneficial to you (aside from being able to make a pact with him), as after that you became quite invested in the series to the point where you would want to name your pet Henry too. You knew Levi liked how you were fond of the series, because it wasn’t every day where he met someone that shared the same interests as him and didn’t put him down for it. With that being said, you were perfectly content with watching TSL or any other series that Levi chose today.

After breakfast that morning, you had gotten a text from the boy in question, who had not shown up for the meal.

💞weeb husband💞: meet me in my room

💞weeb husband💞: wear ur pajamas

You began to grow excited, as your suspicions were seemingly correct. It seemed like you were quite good at guessing what the boys had planned so far, given how you knew what Beelzebub was planning yesterday as well. Were you a psychic? Maybe you just had really good intuition. Or maybe you just knew the brothers so well that guessing came easy for you. Either way, you were smiling like a madman as you typed out a reply.

You: aight fam, i’ll be there asap

You: want me to wear my tsl jammies

💞weeb husband💞: yes

After his swift reply, you slid your phone into your hoodie and bid the others at the breakfast table a farewell. You headed on back to your room to swap into what you called your “TSL Pajamas”, which was just a worn-looking oversized brown t-shirt with the TSL logo on it along with a pair of comfy grey pajama shorts. After you got dressed, you slid down the hall and knocked on Levi’s door.

“Come in.”

And you did, shutting the door behind you. You grinned giddily at Leviathan (who was situated in his bathtub) before turning your attention to the rest of the room. Surrounding the bathtub that was Leviathan’s bed was a large array of snacks and drinks, most of which were your favorites. You didn’t think Devildom had human food like this, and you wondered if Levi went out of his way to get you these things. You were grateful, and you sent him a cheeky look, also deciding that it would be funny to tease him just a little. Embarrassed Levi was one of your favorite Levis, after all.

“Did you get all of this for me~?” You batted your eyelashes, slowly and sensually bending over to pick up a bottle of banana flavored ramune, which you examined while still being crouched. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the bluenette’s face flush a scarlet color, and that was enough to satisfy you for the moment. “Thank you.”

“LOL, they’re not all for you, you know!” He squawked, still mildly embarrassed, but soon his face returned to its normal hue. “Believe it or not, there are some foods from the human world that actually taste good!”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a packet of chocolate pocky (a classic) as well as another favorite snack of yours before sauntering over to where Levi was sitting in the bathtub. “What’re we doin’? With all these snacks, I would assume you have something in mind.”

“You and I are going to be having an anime marathon.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of one of his PC monitors whose position he changed so the both of you could watch. “I wanna watch TSL and I don’t listen to normies who say no.”

“No. We literally watch TSL EVERY time I come to hang out here! Let’s try somethin’ new for once.” You said defiantly, earning a huff and a mini pout from the boy in return. You were clearly contradicting what you had thought to yourself earlier, but we don’t talk about that.

“FINE. What do you suggest?” He grumbled, pulling his keyboard closer to his lap so he could bring up his Softbun account. You put one foot into his bathtub and his head immediately shot over to look at you, his expression a little bit wild. “What are you doing?!”

You put another foot in. “Getting comfortable, of course, so scooch over! Your fatass is hogging the tub.”

“Excuse me?!” Levi sounded offended, but he was smiling as he (hesitantly) moved over. You plopped yourself down, hanging your legs over the rim of the tub. It was a small, Levi-sized bathtub, and you eyed the boy as he blushed fervently at your close proximity.

“Hey, have you watched Beast Assassin yet?” You asked, pointing at the series on the monitor in front of you. The show was in Levi’s library, but you couldn’t tell if he watched it or not.

He gave you a look that told you that you had asked a stupid question. “You mean the hit series where the protagonist’s sister gets turned into a beast and the protagonist must go on a journey to find a cure for her? OF COURSE I watched it! What are you, some kind of pleb?”

“NO. Shut the hell your mouth, we’re watching Beast Assassin, but we’re skipping to the part where Airitsu first appears because he’s the best.” You snatched his keyboard off his lap and placed it on yours, reaching your hand over the side of the bathtub to move the mouse (which was placed on the floor next to the bed) over to Beast Assassin.

“What are you saying?! Are you crazy?! We can’t just start on the second episode without watching the first! It’s called “Episode 2“ for a reason!” Levi attempted to take the keyboard away from you, but as soon as he laid his fingers on it, the entire room went pitch black.

You were the first to react. “Eh?? Levi-san, it’s so dark! H-Hold me!” But you, in fact, did not hold onto him. You could hear the boy, scoff, though. “Are we havin’ some sort of blackout? Has this ever happened in Devildom, or—?”

“This is SO unfair,” Levi grumbled to himself, and you felt him move beside you. “Just as I was going to click on the first episode of Beast Assassin!” You aggressively shoved him on the arm for that comment, sending him stumbling out of the bathtub and flat on the floor. Since you couldn’t exactly see him, the only way you could tell that he was on the floor was through the sound of skin hitting the tile that was the floor of Levi’s bedroom. “Hey!”

“What, I didn’t do anything!” You “harumph-ed” and crossed your arms, but you were generally curious as to what Levi was up to. And, as your eyes began to grow used to the dark, you could make out his silhouette approaching his desk where the rest of his monitors sat. “What’cha doin’?”

You watched somewhat blindly as he reached over the screens to the shelves that sat behind the desk, grabbing something that you couldn’t make out. You, too, got out of the bathtub, and you stumbled over to where Leviathan was standing. As he sensed you approaching, he turned away from you and hunched over slightly so you couldn’t see what he was holding. You shoved him again, but much more lightly this time.

“If you don’t stop, I won’t be giving you any of these glowsticks!” Ah, so that was what he was holding.

“Glowsticks? You have glowsticks??” From your spot behind Leviathan, you could spot a faint glow coming from his frontside. He turned around to face you, his face lit up by pink and red glowsticks, but still remaining shrouded by the surrounding darkness. He gave you another incredulous look that told you that you asked a stupid question. “Don’t give me that look! I thought that you used them all at the last concert you went to!”

Leviathan squinted at you. “Bold of you to assume that, since I’ve taken you to all of the concerts I got tickets for in the past year!”

That was something that had completely failed to cross your mind. It’s not that you didn’t remember Levi taking you to all those pop idol concerts before (you did), but you were always more invested in the music and the choreography rather than what the audience was doing or even holding.

“Well, I’m sooooorry that I forgot! It’s just-”

“Enough of your excuses, woman.” Leviathan interrupted you with a flick on your forehead. “An otaku never is without their glowsticks.”

“You can’t say that ‘cause glowsticks aren’t even used for anime! ...Unless it’s of Lyricoids. You like Lyricoids, right? You better. Who’s your favorite?” You reached out your hand to grab at the pink glowstick, hoping to distract the bluenette with your chitchat, but he moved his hands away.

“Of course I do! I like Muka. Her voice is so melodic and graceful, and her songs are so beautiful and meaningful. The settings of her music videos are always so detailed, especially with the backgrounds and how the plot of the song is portrayed through the visuals. Muka also always looks amazing in any outfit since her figure is naturally curvy and mature, and the musicians and animators never fail to make her draw the audience’s eyes. I also really like how—”

“I like the OG queen herself, Riku, thanks for asking.” You interrupted somewhat sarcastically, having another go at trying to acquire one of Levi’s glowsticks. “She’s so bubbly and her voice is so versatile that she can sing and sound nice in literally any genre.”

“I agree, but,” Levi moved the glowsticks out of the way once more. “Muka is—”

There were several knocks on Levi’s door, and both of your heads swiveled in that direction. You also took that moment to swipe up the pink glowstick, and Levi glared at you.

“What if a serial killer busted the lights and is out to kill us.” You mused, scratching your chin. “He’s being awfully polite if he’s knocking on the door, though.”

You were on a roll with your stupid statements today, for Levi gave you another look, this one being much more annoyed. He didn’t bother to correct you, and instead said, “I hope he kills you first because you’re being so annoying.”

Your reply was immediate, and the knocking was heard once more. “Jokes on you, I actually want to die.” Pink glowstick in hand, you marched to the front of the room and opened the door. “Stab me, daddy.”

“...What?”

You blinked several times and held up the glowstick to the person’s face. It was Satan, and you shuffled awkwardly in your spot. “Oops.”

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that.” Satan surveyed the room, and his stiff posture relaxed— if only a little. “Good, you two aren’t the only ones whose rooms are affected by the blackout.”

You leaned against the doorframe. “This happened to you too?”

Satan nodded. “And the rest of us as well. It is unusual, is it not? This never happened before.”

“Well, I hope it gets fixed soon, because Levi back here,” You jabbed your free thumb in the man’s direction. “is being the biggest prick. He said he actually WANTED me to die! And for what, being annoying? Sheesh, how harsh.”

Satan smiled a little bit, glancing back at Leviathan, who he was only able to see thanks to the glowstick he was holding. Upon hearing your words, Levi marched up and slammed the door shut.

You held up your hands in front of yourself in mock surrender. “Let’s just agree that we’re both being annoying.”

“But YOU’RE the one who’s being annoying!”

“Agree to disagree?”

“...Fine.” ‎‎ ‎‎‎

i have a headcanon where Levi uses crackhead/internet/gen z humor so i decided to incorporate that into the story :”). had a lot of fun writing this!

also, if y’all forgot, Levi legit sleeps in a bathtub 😤.

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and yes that is a Sayaka Maizono/Danganronpa reference in the beginning ;)

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Beast Assassin = Demon Slayer. Airitsu = Zenitsu.

Lyricoid = Vocaloid. Muka = Luka Megurine. Riku = Miku Hatsune.

taglist: @wetleafwrites​ ::​ @midnight-moodlet​

#obey me #obey me! #shall we date #shall we date obey me #swd #swd obey me #obey me swd #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #leviathan obey me #leviathan x reader #leviathan avatar of envy #leviathan #x reader #obey me x reader #christmas writing #holiday writing #dudes i love levi #weeb boyo #no bully levi :( #unholy holiday #an unholy holiday #an unholy holiday collection #bathtub boy

[g0ldengubler]

i

(*i do not own this gif*)

A/N: (from wattpad): heyyy...how y'all doin? ugh i'm not too happy with the sex scene (even though i'm grateful that a friend of mine helped me with one of the paragraphs) but this is the best i can do right now with the mental state i'm in. pls bare with me with posting, my personal life has gone downhill so fast it's crazy. i wanted to get this up on halloween but it sadly didn't happen. i do apologize. but i hope ur excited for this fic! thank u so much for reading ilyyyyyyy :) (from tumblr): ok last post until tonight! sorry for the spam, i only had this so far so i thought why not throw it all on here now lol. but ok enjoy :)

Category: smut

CW: daddy kink; degradation (from both men to clover); penetration (female receiving); oral (m+f recieving and giving); drunk sex; praise kink; this chapter is not full of smut but you don't have to read the smut if you're uncomfortable

Word Count: 3235

positions | prologue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Clover's POV~

~Two Years Later~

It's been two years since I joined the team, and I've never felt more at home than I did on my first week. Luke, Spencer and I have been named, 'The Golden Trio' thanks to Penelope. We've been stuck like glue ever since I beat them in poker, like the best friends I always wanted but never had. Because of what happen when I was a kid, I always stayed close to my dad and never felt the need to make friends. Sure, I'd have people that I'd see 5 days a week at school, but nothing as close as we were. During our days off, we'd get drunk and have a poker night or a chess night, teaching Luke how to play but he never seemed to understand it, so we'd slowly switch to UNO or Cards Against Humanity.

Today, Halloween of all days, was just another paperwork day. Sure, being out in the field was exciting, saving American citizens like how Emily saved me, but I found relaxation in looking over files and sending my behavioral advice. Everything was calm in the office with everyone doing their work, and some days we'd watch a movie in the conference room or play games when we either got done with our work early or, as Garcia would say, "All serial killers have taken the day off. Maybe even went to therapy."

As I walked back to my desk after turning in the last of my files to Emily, Rossi came out of his office and stood at the railing. "Everyone," he announced, "I think it's safe to say that for the first in several years, we do not have a case on Halloween night!"

Everyone cheered, especially Spencer. Halloween was his favorite holiday, you learned. He was very passionate about its spooky nature by dressing up in a scary mask at work, before having to take it off because of a case. He would pout when he would see Emily, Rossi, or Garcia come out, telling the team that we had a case. This year, however, I noticed a grin on his face that stretched from ear to ear.

"In honor of that, I will be throwing a party at my house and you're all invited. But don't think you could run away from my grandmother's recipe!"

I turned over to Spencer, who's desk was right next to mine, a curious grin growing on my face. "So doc, what are you going to be for Halloween?"

He leaned back in his chair and looked over to me, his left elbow pressed against the armrest. "I was originally going to go as Tom Baker's Doctor Who since I still have the cosplay from when Garcia and I tried going to a convention, but with how my hair looks now, I think I'll go as a mad scientist or, if I want to be more specific, Einstein himself."

"I can see you dressing up as Einstein," I smiled, "Hell, you could even go as Dr.Emmett Brown, himself."

"Who?"

I looked back at him, jaw falling to my desk. "You know, from Back to the Future?"

He still looked confused.

"Don't worry about it, Clover," Luke said as he walked over and sat at the desk in front of me, "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Now I'm curious about this movie." Spencer said, his curious face getting curiouser and curiouser.

"Maybe we can sneak away from the party tonight at some point and watch it." I wink at him and the two began chuckling.

"Those movie's are the closest to nerd I'll ever get." said Luke, which sparked Spencer's interest even more.

"So what are you going to be tonight, Kingsley?"

I looked over at him with a smirk."Oh, Alvez, THAT is a surprise."

~That Night~

"They did the monnnster mash!"

Music was coming from all over the backyard and in the house. Everyone from the BAU was dressed up in their spooky (or sexy...or cutest) best and was dancing the night away with champagne in their hands. I had walked in a little bit late compared to everyone else, which somehow Rossi didn't give me a sassy but funny remark about it. Rossi and Krystall dressed up as Bonnie and Clyde, Tara, along with Jj, Emily, and Garcia, went as nuns, and Matt went as Rickey while his wife, Kristy, was Lucy.

Luke ended up going as Magic Mike, not because he was full of himself, that was way out of line for him, but because the team would joke that he could become a stripper if he had to and played along. Spencer was, indeed, Albert Einstein. Garcia must've helped him with his hair, getting it to stick out like Einstein's and spraying gray hairspray in his hair. Both looked really good in their costumes, I couldn't complain.

I walked in as a sexy devil. I'm not scared to dress sexy when I could. I was comfortable in my body and I wasn't doing it to get someone's attention. I just love to feel myself from time to time, almost like a confidence boost if I needed it. I walked over to my two dudes and saw their eyes bulging out of their heads as they turned around to see. I was in a tight red crop top that showed off the girlies, with red short shorts, black fishnet tights, and red heels. I had horns on the top of my head thanks to a headband, and a tail that was attached to my shorts. The two were completely shocked, but were the respectful men that I always knew they were.

As the night went on, I was kind of getting bored. While I loved being surrounded by my coworkers turned family, I wanted to get wasted. It was Halloween night for crying out loud, but I didn't like being drunk in front of a lot of people. Even when I would go to the club, I would just have one drink and then dance with everyone on the dance floor. I didn't trust my drunk self, not physically but just how my personality changes. It embarrassed me to no end, so I only trusted a few people. Two of them, obviously, being Spencer and Luke.

At one point, I was sitting on the couch in the living room by myself. Luke and Spencer came in and sat down next to me, asking me if I was ok. When I explained to them what I was feeling, they both grinned in unison as they looked at one another, then back at me. I knew exactly what they were thinking, and they were in for it. We said goodbye to everyone, grabbed our coats, and headed out the door where we all met up at Luke's place.

When we walked in, Spencer and I sat on his couch getting Back to the Future ready while Luke made us all drinks. As we watched, we ended up leaving our glasses on the table and started taking turns drinking the vodka bottle, numb to the burning sensation. After taking the last shot in the bottle, I set it down and lay back against the back of the couch and blacked out, letting the alcohol take over my mind and body. The last thing I remember was leaning my head against Spencer's shoulder, while my feet were on Luke's lap...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clover was giggling on Spencer's shoulder as her foot slowly rubbed over Luke's lap. Luke shifted his position on the couch, trying not to notice what that was doing to him. Not like he had a foot fetish or anything, but the amount of friction caused his pants grow tighter by the minute. Spencer, who had never been this drunk before in his life, started playing with her hair as he moved his arm around her. Spencer could tell that she was just as drunk as he was, but he didn't expect her to lay her hand on his chest, playing with the necklace he had around his neck. He tried to focus his attention to Back to the Future III, but once she started playing with the gold piece of metal with her mouth, he couldn't help but to look down at her, her eyes never leaving his.

He looked over to Luke, who had moved Clover's foot over and started palming himself  through his pants. Spencer quickly looked away, trying not to give in to his own urges. He moved his focus back to Clover, who's eyes were still locked on him. Before he could do anything, she let go of the necklace and began to slowly move her hand down Spencer's chest.

"I know why Luke moved my foot away," she whispered as her hand gently fell on his lap. She moved her fingers ever so lightly over the bulge that was growing in his pants. She had also moved her foot back onto to Luke's bulge, rubbing over it softly.

The two looked at each other, almost in confusion at first. But then, they silently agreed that they were up for it, as Clover clearly was as well. Luke moved her foot off of it and stood up, pausing the movie as Spencer moved her hand out of the way and lifted her head up as he started to get up. He takes her hand and helps her up, grabbing Luke's hand before wobbling their way into his room. She jumped onto the bed as Spencer shut the door, letting the light from the moon and street lamps illuminate the room. The two stood in front of her before she motioned her finger for them to come over.

"You're one hell of a brat, Kingsley." Luke slurred as the two quickly walked over to her, plopping down on either side of her on the bed.

Clover leans in and kisses Luke while Spencer went for her neck, cupping her left breast and massaging it. The touch alone had a moan leave her lips and into Luke's as he moved his tongue on her bottom lip, asking for entrance. As their tongues melded together, Spencer moved the fabric of her top over and took her breast out of the cup of her bra, leaning in and began licking her nipple before taking the whole thing in his mouth sucking it. Clover broke the kiss and let out a whimper, which made both men chuckle as she leaned both of her arms behind her on the bed for support.

Luke looks over to Spencer as he lets go of her breast and looks up to Luke. "Do you think she'll stop being a brat if we do something like this?" Luke asks before moving his fingers down to her core, rubbing over her shorts. Clover bites her lip to hold in a gasp, which Luke wasn't too pleased by.

"Are you going to behave, little one?" Spencer asks as he plays with the waistband of her shorts, his lips ghosting her cheek.

Clover nods, still holding in a moan just from being touched.  Luke grabs ahold of her jaw and quickly turns her face to look at him. "Use your words, princesa."

"Please," she whines.

Spencer has Clover buck her hips as he pulled her shorts and tights off of her. They notice how turned on she was on her panties and both lean in, biting and sucking on either side of her neck. Spencer's fingers linger the inside of her thighs while Luke went back to rubbing her through the cloth. She moves her hips against his fingers, begging for more.

"You were such a tease just a few minutes ago, and now look at you. So helpless and needy in a matter of seconds." says Spencer in between kisses.

Hearing that made Clover take her panties off in a swift, but quick, motion. She couldn't take it anymore, she needed their touch.

"Eager little girl, aren't you?" Luke chuckled.

It took a minute for her to realize that Spencer went straight in, sticking two fingers inside her and pumping slowly while Luke rubbed her pussy. Her brain had turned into mush full of pleasure that when they went in, she couldn't help but let out a loud moan. They sped up their movements, making her let out a silent scream.

"Fuck, daddy!" She gasped out.

The two were shocked, but didn't complain about the name. "Which one of us is daddy, kitten?" Spencer asked.

"You can't think straight, can you?" Luke asked.

Clover pulls Spencer in by his tie while pulling Luke in at the same time by his belt. "Shut up," she says breathy, "just shut up and fuck me."

"Don't go back to being a brat now," says Luke finally after a moment of silence, "You are going to behave or you'll be punished. And I don't think you'll like what we'll do."

Spencer continues to finger her quickly and deeply, curling his fingers as he hit her gspot every time while Luke rubs faster on her clit. Clover falls onto the bed as wave of pleasure hit her like a train.  She closed her walls around Spencers fingers, getting closer and closer to release as he sped up his pace even more.

"Cum for me, little girl, I want you cum so hard on daddy's fingers."

Spencer connects his lips back to her neck as she screamed, letting the waves of pleasure shoot through her body. Luke rubs her slowly to let her ride out her orgasm as Spencer pulls his fingers out and sticks them in his mouth. The way he cleaned her off made her ache all over again, wanting more and more. She didn't want this to end; This was the most pleasure she's ever had.

Luke looks over as Spencer finished devouring her, removing his fingers from his mouth with a small pop. "She tastes so sweet."

Without a single word, Luke gets off the bed and kneels in front of it, pulling Clover by her knees closer to him. As Spencer started making out with her, Luke dives right in between her thighs, licking a single thick stripe up her core, making her moan through the kiss. As their tongues fought like swords in their mouths, Spencer starts to unbuckle his belt and pulled his pants with his boxers in a swift motion, letting his cock spring free. Before it could hit his stomach, however, she grabs onto it with her left hand and starting pumping him slowly. He groans into her mouth before breaking apart, watching her stroke his aching cock.

"Please, daddy. I need your cock so bad fUCK!"

Neither of the two knew who she was talking to, but they did know that it didn't matter. Luke gets up from the floor and takes his costume off while Spencer moved his position so that his knees were on the bed. Clover moves up a bit so that Luke could get back on. The two pump themselves a few times before they pushed themselves in. She took Spencer's cock in her mouth as Spencer grabs a handful of her hair, slowly pushing her down as Luke thrust. As soon as she was comfortable of their size, Luke began thrusting slowly. Clover moaned and grind against him, begging for more, which he happily obliged. Spencer groaned under his breath when she moaned, making him buck his hips forward, shoving his cock down her throat. She gagged on it, tears piercing her eyes.

Clover was at this moment, and maybe even every moment after this, beneath them. Spencer and Luke were exercising their rights to dominate, belittle, and humiliate her. Her holes were filled as her mind quickly unraveled from the rush of pleasure from every minute pulsation. She couldn't even follow their taunts anymore, and the only bit of rationale that she could muster was to be the best sex doll for her two dominators. Her pussy ached for more punishment as they admonished her sloppy performance. She moaned hungrily as she was ravaged, playing the broken slut; no, she was their broken slut. Eagerly enjoying their obvious amusement.

The knot in her stomach was getting tighter and tighter again. She knew Luke was just edging her, making her wait to cum until he was ready. He looked to Spencer, who was holding on for dear life, almost getting into some sort of sub space of his own as the look on his face was begging for release. Clover felt both of their cocks twitch inside her, letting her know they were close.

"Cum for us, princesa," Luke growls, "just one more time for daddy. I know you want to, baby."

Clover turned into a screaming, moaning mess as she came all over Luke's cock, making a huge mess on the bed. That was the last straw for the two men, as they both released inside her, filling her over the edge. The two pulled themselves out, Spencer laying next to Clover (who was showing him that she swallowed every last drop of him) while Luke watched his cum pool out from her, enjoying the view before he lay on the other side of her. Clover wiggled her arms through theirs, focusing on something to cuddle her way into. Spencer quickly grabbed tissues from his side of the bed and cleaned her up.

"You did so good, Clover." says Spencer. He throws the used tissues away in the waste bin beside him and turns back to see tears prickling from her eyes again. "Ssh ssh, it's ok," he coos as he wraps his arms around her. Spencer's soft praises mixed with Luke's gentle hand playing with her hair helped her come back down from the cloudy headspace she was in. She felt cared for and safe with them comforting her.

Clover snuggles into Spencer as Luke's arm wrapped around her waist, spooning behind her. Spencer kissed the top of her head as she nestled her head on his chest, letting the sleepiness that alcohol gave take over them.

As she drifted off to sleep, Clover hoped that she wouldn't forget this perfect night.

#spencer reid smut #luke alvez smut #ralvez #ralvez smut #spencer reid #luke alvez #mgg #matthew gray gubler #adam rodriguez #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #cm #cm fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fan fiction #luke alvez fan fiction #spencer reid fic #luke alvez fic #fan fiction #fanifc #fan fic #fanfiction #smut

[ace-oreos]

Is it possible to have a angsty (or fluff ur choice) one shot where alpha-17 hugs Frodo? I need some brotherly love between these two disaster bastards

As per usual, I opted for the angst with this one. My fingers slipped, I swear. 

And because I don’t describe it in detail - again, as per usual, because apparently my brain just likes to skip over some things that could be important to the story - I was imagining this taking place when 17 and the other Alphas are still in training, but he’s old enough to start pushing a bit more to determine where he really stands with Jango. 

(That said, I feel like this is a good opportunity to clarify that I do not, in fact, hate Jango. I think he had a complex relationship with the Alphas with a lot left unsaid that had to be confronted later.) 

But they do hug! I promise! It’s not all doom and gloom! Have I mentioned I like writing angst for Alpha-17? And have I mentioned I may be a wee bit dramatic?

After eight years of training under Jango Fett with no end in sight, Alpha-17’s clashes with the man aren’t exactly an uncommon occurrence. It’s acerbic and heated, their disputes, no longer snide remarks and deliberately timed jabs that bordered on mischievous not so long ago. 

That time is long since past. It wouldn’t be entirely truthful for 17 to say he reflects on it fondly, but there’s something almost nostalgic about it all the same. Things are different now; the impish digs traded for something much more grim that hits a little too close to the truth to pass uncontested.

17 has never been one to shy away from the truth - but Fett is much the same. It makes for difficult navigation. And most days 17 regards the conflict with nothing more than frustration, maybe resentment on worse days, but he’s hardly ever truly angry. 

But Fett knows how to cut deep, straight through whatever defense 17 presents. He picks up on any vulnerability and digs in, doesn’t give 17 a chance to breathe and leaves him vulnerable. And because Fett doesn’t know how to end a fight unless the opposition is bleeding out on the floor, he approaches altercations with 17 the same way.

17 can’t back down either, so he weathers whatever Fett throws at him. It leaves him off-balance and bewildered, but his pride intact. It isn’t much when he’s bleeding out on the floor - it isn’t right for one man to have that kind of power, he thinks - but it’s something.

(It’s something that feels like nothing.)

He ducks away from his brothers those days. Bad enough that Fett sees him raw and exposed; 17 prefers to salvage what’s left away from brothers who know him too well. 

Of course it’s 77 who finds him, after they’ve been dismissed for the day. 77, who never has the sense to leave well enough alone, who’s judicious and steadfast where 17 runs hot and fierce, who’s a better brother than 17 ever deserves. 

For all that he prefers to meet a challenge head-on and ask questions later, 77 adopts a cautious approach now; 17’s last tenuous grasp on his hard-won discipline is beginning to buckle under the weight of a wounded anger he’s never confronted before. The fury that makes his heart hammer and his body tight is familiar enough, but there’s a sort of aimless hurt lurking beneath that leaves him deeply unsettled.

And maybe 77 recognizes it. He lays a hand on 17’s shoulder rather than try to coax him out of his anger. The gentle touch is grounding, but it isn’t enough to alleviate the anger that pulses through him.

“It wasn’t your fault,” 77 says quietly. 

17 clenches his fists. “Wasn’t it?” 

Rather than conceding, 77 responds, “What good will it do to keep beating yourself up over it?”

17 merely shrugs. It’s not that easy, he wants to say. It’s not that easy, because I’ve spent the last eight years making the same mistake and every time I’ve been naive enough to think that maybe something has changed -

I can’t blame anyone but myself, 17 thinks, shame making him savage. Jango said as much - I never learn. 

(Because there must be something fundamentally wrong with wanting a father who could be proud of him, who returned unwavering devotion with benevolent approval, who shared the burden of his sons’ service and sacrifice rather than demand it.) 

The hot trail tracing its way down his cheek startles him. He hadn’t thought he cared - he didn’t - but he finds tears threatening all the same.

“Vod,” 77 says softly, and pulls 17 into a rough embrace. 

If his fatigues are damp with tears, his brother doesn’t acknowledge it. The part of 17 that belongs to his father insists that he pull away before 77 breaks down the last barriers that aren’t broken so much as fractured. But 17 can’t bring himself to move. 

“There’s nothing wrong,” 77 says haltingly, “with being angry. I think we’ve earned as much. Shab, go ahead and hate him - we’d be the last to disagree.”

(But 17 still can’t hate him, even now, and he still can’t fathom why.)

“But you’re more than him,” 77 goes on with a new edge to his voice. “We all are. I can’t tell you to change - I wouldn’t want you to, either - but it’s worth remembering that. There’s a point where he ends and you begin.”

17 smiles despite himself. “Since when were you the wise one?”

77’s crooked grin is one 17 knows well. “I think we went and grew up when no one was watching.”

“Had to happen someday,” 17 says thoughtfully. 

17 doesn’t fight when 77’s hold tightens. “I’m still your brother, di’kut. You’re stuck with me.”

“So long as you don’t go all philosophical on me. ‘M not sure I could handle it.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” 77 answers, affecting a wizened air, and laughs. He gives 17 another gentle shake before stepping back. “Now come on - the vode are waiting.”

“What, all ninety-eight?” 17 retorts, but he lets 77 pull him along all the same. 

True to 77’s word, several vode are waiting. They grin and tease, ribbing them for missing out on 18’s latest gaffe or another of 26’s lectures about discipline, and 17 thinks everything just might turn out okay.

#alpha-17 #alpha 17 #alpha 77 #captain fordo #jango fett #the clone wars #star wars #fanfic prompt #thanks for the ask! #my askbox is open #once again i am dramatic #is anyone surprised #definitely not

[weirdlyobsessedwithegos]

Illinois x reader x Yancy

@ezuriel-moth-rps : Hey,,,,,,, a concept: soulmate wrist mark AU, right? But like,,, polyamorous people having a mark on each wrist. Thank u for ur time. h m. Illinois and someone? Idk who should be the other someone though. how many egos are there, RNG it

I chose Yancy since he’s my fav, and I’ve seen him being paired with Illinois several times, thought it would be interesting! And also, in this particular AU, the soulmark(s) only does something when you touch it directly, not just the person(s) you share your mark(s) with. Soulmarks can also look like pretty much anything, differs from relationship to relationship.

Having two soulmarks isn’t that unusual, but often, it could lead to questions you rather not answer. 

So you would always cover one or both up in some sort of fashion, often with a fancy bracelet or simple makeup. 

It didn’t help that yours was two one inch thick bands, one around each wrist. One yellow on your left and one blue on the right, so they often draws looks.

Of the two, you had met Yancy first.

You had met him in prison of all places, the both of you in there for crimes you definitely did commit, not that you ever planned on staying for long. 

And you didn’t. Yancy even helps you break out of the place even though you fought him and won just a few hours prior.

As he scratches the back of his neck while he explains why he isn’t outside the fence himself, you spot a familiar color on his wrist. He must have been wearing some makeup on it, because it certainly wasn’t there before. 

Transfixed, you reach out and grab his wrist, stopping whatever he was about to say as you pull his arm through the fence.

“What’se youse do-” He stops himself as he sees the color on his wrist, visible where it’s clear that his makeup had been smudged. He tries to tug his arm back, but you don’t let go, gently touching the little blue spot you can see.

“Hey, now-” He gasps as warm tingle makes its way up his arm. Looking at you with wide eyes, he gapes.

“Youse......” You nod, licking your thumb so you can use the wetness to rub away some makeup on your own wrists. Yancy lets out a shaky breath as he sees the matching blue and yellow appear. 

“I.... I’s thought I’s would never find any of youse.....” He stares at your wrists as you take both of his hands in yours. You kiss his knuckles, and when you look up there’s tears in his eyes.

“Please come with me.” 

“I belong here, this is my home....... For now at least.....” 

“If anything, you belong with me and our other. We belong together.” You can tell Yancy is close to crying. You let go of his hands, and he pulls back.

“Maybe when parole comes up, I’ll, I’ll give it a shot.” He starts to walk backwards, yelling about visitation. You look down at your box, and when you look up again, he’s gone. 

You’re alone.

You resist the urge to punch the metal fence.

--------

When you meet Illinois, is no less of a strange situation. You’re in a cave, a boulder comes rolling in, and after Illinois comes walking just behind it.

He somehow manages to convince you to go on a little adventure with him, walking backwards with confidence without getting hit by any traps, and flirting with you all the way.

You don’t really answer back much, but he keeps it up anyway. 

As you re-emerge from that monkey heaven, (which is what Illinois had expained it as), you still have the banana in hand. Illinois notices, but also sees the blue band around your wrist at the same time you do. 

Your makeup is completely gone (a side effect of the monkey heaven you think). Both you and Illinois freeze. Illinois carefully lifts up his left hand, and suddenly you notice the familiar yellow on his wrist. 

You let your hand with the banana drop, grabbing his wrist with your matching yellow band. 

The two of you stare down at your hands, as Illinois feel’s the warm tingle from his wrist travel up his arm. He twists his arm so he can grab your wrist as well, making the warm tingle travel up your arm too.

“You.....” 

“Yeah...” Illinois tries to pull away, but you don’t let him, pulling him into a hug. He stiffens up, but it only takes a few seconds before he is hugging back. When you pull back, the both of you are smiling at each other.

“Who would have thought I would meet one of my partners like this huh?” His smile is faking confidence, you can tell by his eyes how nervous he is.  

“And I know where our other is.” His eyes light up.

“You do?”

“Yes, and you have to help me convince him to take parole.” Illinois doesn’t seem to care to hear that one of his partners is in prison, picking you up with a big smile on his face, and spinning you around. 

Something pokes you in your back when he picks you up, so when he puts you down, you look and he’s holding a rock in his hand. Illinois notices, and brings it up so you can look at it better.

“Got it from the monkeys, it’s a little less impressive than your banana.” He shakes it, and as he does so, the rock emits a bright light, disintegrating and transforming into a big diamond. 

The two of you eye it in shock, before moving the focus to your banana. Carefully opening it up, you find it’s made of pure gold. You both let your gaze flicker between the two items, before busting out into laughter.

“At least it looks like we will all be provided for.” You say with a grin, Illinois nodding as he wipes a laughing tear from his eyes. 

As the two of you finally manage to stop laughing, you lock eyes. Slowly, very slowly, you reach up to cup Illinois cheek, stroking your thumb gently over his skin. Illinois leans into the motion and closes his eyes, and you can’t help but lean in and kiss him. 

You let the kiss be brief, just a press of your lips against his, but you almost immediately lean in for another one, which he is quick to return. 

You stay like that for a few minutes, before the weirdness of the situation hits you, and you have to break away from the kiss to laugh a little.

“What?” Illinois asks, straightening his hat from where it had become slightly askew.

“I just realised how bizarre my life is. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You smile at Illinois, and he returns it with a beaming smile of his own.

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

The first time you bring Illinois to visitation, Yancy is so happy, but almost burst into tears when the both of you put your hands against the plastic glass that separates the two of you from him in the little booth used for visitation. He presses his own hands against the glass, promising with a mix of laughter and crying in his voice that he promises to try for parole when it comes up.

That first meeting had ended way to soon for anyones liking, but after that, you and Illinois come every time visitation rolls around. (Yancy doesn’t let you call, since he wants to minimise the risk of anyone finding out you are an escapee, and Illinois doesn’t want any more benefits than you.) 

Both of you also write him letters, ranging from talking about adventures you have had, what kind of food the other person likes, and what you want to do when he gets out. 

Because he is getting out, no matter what. If he doesn’t make parole, you had threatened to break him out yourself. You did this during visitation once, causing Yancy and Illinois to laugh nervously, but you could tell they appreciated the sentiment.

You end up not needing to break him out, as a little over a year later, parole comes up, and Yancy is approved. When you read it in the letter he had sent to tell you the news, you had screamed of joy, running into the other room to let Illinois know. 

Illinois had smiled the biggest smile you had ever seen, you’re convinced if it wasn’t for his ears it would have been even bigger.

So a little while later, you find yourself leaning on the hood a car outside the prison, all nervous energy and jitters. Illinois is right next to you, a warm and heavy hand on your hip a comforting weight.

The door to the building opens, and out steps Yancy. You can see he spots you, almost matching your nervous energy, but he tries to take it slow, and not full on run his way out.

As he steps out the prison gates for the first time in years, he casts one last look over his shoulder at the building. 

As he turns back around, his arms are almost immediately filled with you, giving him the biggest and best hug you can. He draws in a sharp breath and hugs you back just as hard.

When he lets go of you, Illinois is standing right next to you, and he gently takes Yancy’s wrists in his hands, making the warm and familiar tingle travel up his arms. 

Yancy moves his arms so he can do the same, smiling hard, trying to hold back happy tears. Illinois pulls him into a hug as well, even giving Yancy a little spin like he does with you. 

Yancy laughs, and when Illinois puts him down again, Illinois plants a brief kiss on his lips. Yancy is stunned, so you step closer and lead his attention to you with a hand under his chin. Leaning in, you pause briefly, before letting your lips brush softly against his in a barely there kiss. 

Yancy, seemingly snapped out of his stupor, kisses you back, only breaking the kiss so he can kiss Illinois as well. This time it’s Illinois who is surprised, but he is quick to kiss back as he regains his composure. 

You have to tell them to slow down a bit, you’re still very not in the right place just yet, so they let you drag them over to the car. You give them both a quick kiss, settling in the drivers seat. They both get in the back, leaning against each other and holding hands on the whole way home as you smile at them trough the rearview mirror.

#yancy x reader #illinois x reader #illinois fic #illinois #yancy fic #yancy fanfiction #yancy #illinois fanfiction #ahwm yancy #ahwm illinois #reader insert #the reason i specified the touch thing is #cause you win over yancy in a fight #so that's skin against skin #technically #:P

[dameronology]

the one with the blind date {obi-wan x reader}

summary: your mother has a knack for setting you up on the worst blind dates. this time, it might be different. 

i know what you’re thinking - ‘but val! jedi aren’t allowed to date!’ but for the sake of this fic, the jedi code can suck a fat one because it’s 3am 5am and i don’t have the brain cells to work around star wars canon 

love u lots and hope you enjoy 

- jazz

You weren’t entirely sure if your mother’s judgement towards your life choices was supposed to be malicious or not, but it certainly felt like it. The fact she called you to remind you that your cousin just had her third baby! or mention in passing that your friend from school just got married (again)! always felt like it had an ulterior motive. You loved the woman dearly but maker, you wished she would shut the hell up sometimes.

It wasn’t as though you weren’t successful. You had an important job working for the Senate, you’d graduated from the University of Cloud City with honours and you owned an apartment in Coruscant. Did she know how hard it was to get on the property ladder in this city? It was probably one of the selling points she used every time she set you up on a blind date. They were usually with older men, twice divorced and with more baggage than you were ready for.

You weren’t expecting this date to be any different - your mother had mentioned he was a friend of a friend (possibly of a friend, of another friend and then maybe the colleague of that friend). She hadn’t told you what job he had, only that he was a bit older than you and ‘earned enough to support a small family’ - but you had chosen to ignore that last part. She’d arranged for you to meet at a diner downtown in the early evening, and you weren’t expecting too much. 

There were only two people in the diner. One was a man of an alien species who appeared to be roughly 150; he had a pint in one hand and a burger in the other. The other one was undoubtedly a Jedi - and a very attractive one too. He was browsing the menu, brow furrowed slightly as he frowned. He looked up as the bell on the door rang, and your eyes met. If he was your date, your mother had done well for once (though she could have pre-warned you about his occupation).

‘Hey, you must be-’ He offered you a warm smile, standing up from the table to wave you over.

Say something, dumbass you pushed yourself. 

‘- that sure is me!’ You quipped. Great start, you moron. 

‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ The Jedi sat back down as you shuffled into the booth opposite him. ‘I’m Obi-Wan.’

‘Right, yeah - sorry, my mum did tell me your name.’ You replied. 

‘What else did she tell you?’ He quipped, quirking one of his brows. ‘Just so I can try and live up to whatever lively image I’m sure she’s created.’

‘Just your name.’ You laughed. ‘She didn’t mention being a Jedi or anything.’

Obi-Wan paused for a minute. ‘Oh, I’m not a Jedi.’

You froze slightly, quickly trying to think of a response. It hadn’t been a reach - he was wearing robes, and you could see what looked like a lightsaber under the table. Not that you had been looking under the table, or down there - and maker, this was embarrassing.

‘I’m joking.’ He suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. ‘I am a Jedi. I thought it would break the ice but you look like you’re about to cry-’

‘- that was mean!’ You reached across the table to swat at his shoulder. ‘I pride myself on my intuition, Obi-Wan.’ 

‘I wouldn’t call the fact I’m wearing a Jedi robes and carrying a lightsaber intuition, more like the glaringly obvious.’ He leant back, crossing his arms over his chest as he smirked at you.

You liked this guy.

‘But what do you do?’ Obi-Wan continued. ‘Your mother mentioned that you work for the Senate.’

‘I do!’ You replied. ‘I’m a political advisor.’

‘What does that entail?’

‘I just sit there and tell the senators if they’re being just a bit stupid or completely stupid.’ You grinned. 

‘Well, it certainly sounds like a very important job.’ He smiled back.

‘You’re one to talk. You’re like..the keeper of the Force.’ You replied. 

‘That’s not quite it.’ Obi-Wan couldn’t help but laugh at your attempt to describe his job. ‘But you’re close.’

--

Two hours later - and after ordering food that you’d both been too distracted to touch - you were both doubled over in laughter at something Obi-Wan had said. He was funny; you’d figured out that much. It wasn’t in an obvious way, but more of a charming, observant way. He took an interest in you as well - he asked about your job, your hobbies and your time at college. In a way, he felt a bit too good to be true. Every guy your mother set you up with had fallen short within the first five minutes.

What could it be? Was he secretly already married? Was he a convicted criminal on the run and posing as a Jedi? 

‘I have to ask.’ Obi-Wan reached across the table, warm hand falling on top of yours. ‘You have a good job. You own your own apartment and you’re beautiful. Why do you need your mother to find you a date?’

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. ‘I don’t meet many suitable people in my line of work. They’re either much, much older senators or...actually, that’s it.’

He chuckled slightly, squeezing your hand - you could have sworn that your heart stopped for a moment (either that, or your coffee addiction had finally caught up with you). The fact you’d been too deep in conversation with him to even look at your food said a lot. Before now, no man would ever have been able to come to between you and a burger. 

‘Let’s get out of here.’ Obi-Wan threw a few credits on the table. ‘I know a place that has better food.’

You tossed a few of your own credits, giving him a nod. ‘I’ll have to take your word for it since neither of us actually touched this food.’

‘I’m easily distracted, apparently.’ He joked, offering out his hand to you as you pulled your jacket on.

‘That’s bad for a Jedi.’ You joked, taking it.

‘I correct myself.’ He paused for a moment, shaking his head. ‘I’m easily distracted by you.’

‘Right, I have a tendency to do that.’ You replied. ‘I bet my mother didn’t tell you that I was so breathtaking.’

‘Actually, she told me I had a mission.’ He replied. 

The cold night air hit you as you exited the diner. You could hear the buzz of the city traffic further uptown, filling the silence as you pondered his statement for a moment. Your mother worked as an admin assistant for the Jedi temple - she organised transport and missions and the logistics of most their operations - and she had a tendency to spill embarrassing things about you in conversation.

‘A mission?’ You grimaced. ‘What did she tell you it was?’

‘To investigate that very diner we were just sat in.’ Obi-Wan smiled down at you, face lit up under the lights of a theatre as you walked past. ‘She only told me before I left the temple that it was a blind date.’

‘Maker, that woman.’ You muttered. 

‘I’m not complaining, though.’ He quickly replied. He let go of your hand, moving to fling his arms across your shoulders and pull him closer towards him. ‘I was a bit worried that you were going to be...’

‘...like her?’ You nudged him in the ribs slightly. ‘Because that’s something I worry about too every time I get a bit older.’

‘Oh, you have nothing to worry about.’ Obi-Wan said. ‘You have her nose but I’d say that’s it.’

--

A few more hours passed, and you found yourselves having walked all the way to the other side of the city. You were latched onto his side now, one arm around his waist whilst his rested on your shoulder. The warmth of his body against the cold of the night air was a wonderful contrast and you couldn’t help but smile at how at home you felt. He had a very calming presence (probably something to do with the whole Jedi debacle). 

‘Let’s sit down.’ You wrapped your hand around his wrist, tugging him over to a low-sitting wall. 

You were on the edge of Coruscant, a few miles away from the city centre. The lights of the vast skyline illuminated the road in front of you, the whites and blues and red of the mammoth buildings blurring into a technicolour dream. You sometimes forgot how wonderful the place was, especially when you spent so much time observing corrupt politics and dodgy dealings at your job. That wasn’t on your mind, however - Obi-Wan Kenobi was at the forefront of your thoughts. 

‘You’re cold.’ He commented.

‘I’m always cold.’ You shot back. ‘Isn’t that something you can tell through the Force?’

‘Oh, my dear.’ Obi-Wan chuckled. ‘The Force doesn’t work like that.’

‘So, it’s not like mind-reading and magic tricks?’ You shuffled slightly in your seat, turning so that you were facing him. 

‘I definitely can’t read your mind.’

‘That’s a shame. It would make this whole dating thing much easier.’ You quipped.

‘You could just tell me what you’re thinking.’ He reasoned.

You paused for a moment - you were thinking about kissing him, obviously. There had been several moments through out the night where you almost had, but it hadn’t felt like the right time. But here? Basking under the glow of the city lights, sat so close to him? You’d be damned if there was a better chance than this. 

Obi-Wan met you halfway, your lips brushing against his. Like him, they were soft and warm, and you felt yourself leaning further into him. One of his arms wound around your waist, making an attempt to pull you close, though such a thing were possible. Meanwhile, you had one hand on the back of his neck, softly playing with the hair that fell onto your hand. 

There was a gust of wind, and you suddenly jumped back with surprise. He laughed at your reaction, dropping his head into your shoulder as his body shook against yours. 

‘So,’ you began. ‘Second date?’

‘I don’t think we’re done with this one.’

(Within the year, your mother finally had bragging rights about the fact it was her child getting married this time). 

there’ll probably be a part 2 to this i won’t lie to u i’ve already got it written in my head 

also shout to @karasong​ and @drinksomecoco​ for ur encouragement/ideas ily guys 

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi x y/n #star wars imagine #star wars fluff #star wars x reader #star wars fanfic #obi-wan kenobi fanfic

[devilsskettle]

can i ask u to elaborate on ur feelings/notes about swallow? i rly liked it and i would love to hear another person’s thoughts!!

yes! i’m so glad you asked, i was just writing about it actually! 

the main two things i think this movie has going for it are the visual appeal and the strength of the acting. every shot in this movie seemed intentional and considered thoroughly, none of them seemed unnecessary or even boring to look at. everything from the set and costume design to the camera work was well done. i think that’s really impressive! most films don’t have that kind of intentionality. it felt kind of like “wes anderson does a psychological thriller” lol but not in a way that felt distracting to me. also the actress who plays hunter, haley bennett, did such a good job of conveying her as a character, and with so much nuance to her emotions. i also think it’s thematically interesting, the way it explores ideas about health, bodily autonomy, financial inequality (this is another “rich people suck” movie), gender, i could go on but you get the idea. it’s very gothic in a lot of ways, discussing the confinement of and violence towards women in the domestic sphere, especially the entitlement to their bodies and ideas about motherhood. i’ve also rarely seen stories about pika but i think here it’s framed in a sympathetic and respectful light that points out its seriousness but doesn’t place the blame on the person who struggles with it, which is a good way to handle any mental health issue in stories imo. i also think it’s rare to have abortion portrayed as a neutral choice that is right in certain circumstances so i think it did that well enough (there have been several movies/tv series in recent years that also discuss abortion without bias so it’s hardly revolutionary but i still like the way they went about it). however, i didn’t love the direction the movie went, i was hoping for more horror than that, in fact the only reason i think it’s labeled a psychological thriller is because people aren’t used to seeing pika portrayed and while it’s a scary problem to have, i don’t think the movie as a whole feels like a thriller. it feels more like a drama about marriage and mental health, if maybe a little bit more intense for that genre. like you can tell it’s intended to be a thriller based on the tone and everything, but the story itself doesn’t back that up. also it only really gets at surface level issues, and gives you a clear reason and solution for her problem (reason: guilt about the method of her conception + problems with her home life + pregnancy. result: pika. solution: confront father + leave husband + abortion. i wish it hadn’t been that simple)

which brings me to: the things i would’ve changed about it or liked to see more:

1. they opened the movie with several close up shots of food and i thought that would be a motif that they carried through the movie, which it was with the items that hunter ate, but not with actual food. like i thought in the birthday party scene, they would have a close up shot of the tray of sandwiches she was carrying, for example. i would’ve liked to see that and how by treating both the food and the objects the same way visually it would blur the line between the two, also i just think it would be visually appealing 

2. i’m uncomfortable with the way they portrayed getting mental health help, with the therapist breaking confidentiality and the family of her husband coercing her into checking into an inpatient facility, even though imo that’s exactly where she needed to be (she almost died! she should’ve been in more intensive treatment). i don’t mind the therapist thing as much because it shows how money can open any door and how alone hunter was, but there’s nothing wrong with having to go to a psych ward even if it feels like an extreme step so it kind of felt bad to me but maybe i’m just hypersensitive about that kind of thing 

3. again, i wanted it to go darker. i wanted for her to snap at the end and do something fucked up to her husband or his family. honestly i didn’t mind the ending, i thought the bathroom scene under the credits was a very strong final shot, but the narrative after she leaves the hotel feels like it diverts into soap opera melodrama territory. in some ways i like the ending but i wished it had something else to it

4. i wish we got to see more of hunter’s real personality but i think that’s difficult when she’s so isolated. maybe in some of the therapy scenes she could open up more and we’d see more past the facade (besides when she’s having a breakdown, which is also not indicative of her “real” personality) 

5. the fact that we get to hear from her father and very little from her mother - none of which is positive - is a little bit questionable to me given that he raped her and we see him humanized and her - maybe not dehumanized, but she’s framed as not being a very good mother, at least to hunter, despite what she says about it. but it’s also surprising and moving in unexpected ways to see her confront the real person face to face instead of literally carrying around the image that she has of him and never really dealing with it, and it also shows that what he did and who he was when he did it was truly pathetic and entitled and massively harmful to both hunter and her mother and potentially to the family he has now, and also there’s not some magical line that separates “normal” people from people who do terrible things to other people, they’re also just people, which isn’t to say “we should forgive them and give them another chance! they’re only human,” more like “you are a person who is capable of hurting others so think about your actions and hold yourself accountable for them.” so i don’t know if it works or if it doesn’t work for me, i maybe have to sit with that one a little longer

6. while i think this movie is better, it does feel like it’s potentially getting into promising young women territory with the pastel aesthetic, focus on women, and shallowness of the storytelling (everything in either of these movies stays very surface level imo). i think it’s a much better movie but still there were parts that felt pretty meh in the same ways

that having been said, it’s a movie i think is going to stick with me and i definitely think it’s worth a watch for anyone curious, but if you’re not already curious, i don’t think you’re missing out so terribly much if you skip it

if you enjoyed this movie (or even were just interested in its themes) here’s some things i would recommend checking out: the yellow wallpaper by charlotte perkins gilman (a woman experiences a mental breakdown after being shut away in her room to recover from “hysteria” while suffering from postpartum depression), white is for witching by helen oyeyemi (also deals with pika as well as horror in domestic spaces), the invisible man 2020 (i feel like these movies have a lot of overlap - isolated glass houses on a cliffside, abusive/possessive men that they have to escape both of whom threaten to - or actually do - hunt them down, a woman experiencing a serious problem that no one takes seriously and is threatened with - or actually experience - institutionalization, commentary on wealth and autonomy), wide sargasso sea by jean rhys (after reading jane eyre of course! follows the character of bertha from jane eyre during her childhood, the early days of her relationship with rochester, and the breakdown of that relationship - similar in relationship with her husband, etc)

anyway yeah that’s all i have to say about it for now but i’d love to hear what you think about it!

#swallow 2019 #swallow

[svtxsoju]

00. prologue | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is!  ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA!  ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 2.6k words ღ Binu’s Note: hi to anyone who is reading this!!! i’m super excited (and kinda nervous :0) to post this bc i’ve been working on this project for a while now. aaaa i hope there are at least some people who can enjoy it! this is a relatively short-ish chapter but it’s p dense with exposition lol but anyway if ur reading this, thank you i love you!!! 

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ Navigation ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Introducing The Front ’s New Romance Advice Columnist: Miss Soju! 

We all have an ideal: an ideal type, an ideal first date, an ideal relationship. The problem is love isn’t ideal at all. And sooner or later, we find ourselves sitting on that plastic chair in that tent on the side of the road with an ache in our chest. You’re hurt, confused, and kind of going crazy-- all the tell-tale symptoms of heartbreak are there. And the only cure? Soju, of course! 

Finding a decent partner and maintaining a healthy, sustainable relationship is difficult enough as it is. Then layer it with the culture shock of university, where you’re experiencing actual adulthood for the first time without mommy and daddy to hold your hand. It’s enough to make anyone lose their minds! Sure, you could always turn to your friends for support and advice, but in all honesty, they’re even more of a mess than you are. 

That’s why Mansae University’s affiliate newspaper, The Front, will be reviving our romance advice column this fall! Each week, Miss Soju will be answering all your burning questions, and that means all of them. Her expertise touches on topics as simple as explaining to that one guy that your love is fated because you passed each other at Yuhaeng Quad, like three times, and extends to more extreme situations that require an anonymous veil, like how to confess to your new boyfriend with the furry fetish that you’ve been severely allergic to animals since you were three and you have no idea how any animals act, let alone… Yikes. 

It’s true, college is full of new and bizarre experiences, some we must go through and some we’d much rather avoid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life here. But it’s okay to admit that you need a little guidance through the mystical and confusing world of college dating. Miss Soju has got your back, and she’s not afraid to hit you with that real shit. As she always says, good advice is like taking a shot: sweet on the lips but burns your throat as you swallow it down. 

Monday, June 3rd, 2019 3:07PM

“Jihoon, I don’t know if I can do this.” 

Name: So Joohyun. Major: Journalism major with a minor in communications. Estimated graduation year: 2021. Desired position: World News Journalism Intern. That was what she had put on her application for The Front’s junior internship program. She had made sure to attach her published articles and to emphasize her interest in-- no, her passion for-- reporting compelling stories on an international scale. Not once in her application did she indicate that she was an expert in love or sex, let alone qualified to give others advice on the subjects! In fact, she was probably the least qualified person on campus for this position, which was probably the most perplexing aspect of the whole situation. 

But despite all of that, there she was, sitting in Yuhaeng Quad with her best friend, reading the promo piece she had written for Miss Soju. Jihoon had been ecstatic when he had thought of the nickname back in high school. She had snuck bottles of the alcohol over to his house one night after finals week, and he had drunkenly claimed that the name was doubly clever since So-ju were also the first two syllables in her name. When the newspaper had told her she needed an anonymous pen name, it was the only thing she could think of, mostly because creating a secret identity had made her in desperate need of a drink. She changed her mind. Having a secret identity was equally as perplexing as pretending to know how to spice up people’s sex lives. It was like she was some kind of Love Spiderman. She was not ready for that kind of great power or the great responsibility that came with it!

“‘I don’t know if I can do this’?” Jihoon repeated her words slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words in that order. Can I take your picture? I need to commemorate this moment.” 

“Can’t you see that I am having a crisis?” she whined. “The integrity of my career is on the line because I’ve never bothered to go on a date!” 

“When are you not having a crisis?” Jihoon laughed. He sat up from lying down on their picnic tarp to give her full view of his smug grin. Originally, he had dragged Joohyun outside in hopes that the perfect summer weather would help relieve some of her stress from the past week. He even found her favorite spot under the shade of an ancient tree that overlooked the stretch of green field. But Jihoon could not call himself a proper best friend if he passed on an opportunity to rub all of this in her face. “This is what you get for chickening out on all our group blind dates! I could have scored that hot bassist girl with the thigh tattoo, but nooo, you always had to put your career first.” 

“Sue me for having priorities!” she huffed. Leave it to Jihoon to chalk this all up to karma. Now that he mentioned it though, she couldn’t help but feel like a higher power was taking a piss on her life. Or maybe it was just the shit-eating smile on Jihoon’s face that had her on edge. Joohyun tried to avert her focus to a couple of boys tossing a frisbee around instead, but somehow that irked her too. The idyllic weather, the carefree students, everything that was pleasant seemed to mock her sour mood. She pouted at the ground in defeat, and continued, “You are the first person to know that if I was told that dating and fucking around were going to be crucial to my journey to becoming South Korea’s top journalist by the time I turn 25, I would have become a hoe long ago.” 

“Woah, are you gonna start your thot phase for this? Are we gonna have a hot girl summer?” The boy began to bounce excitedly. Joohyun felt it was high time to give him the finger, but she also felt a small smile tugging at her frown. “Easier said than done, though. Remember Jessi from high school?”

“Yeah I remember,” she said with a sigh. High school romance had lured so many of her friends into its clutches, with its enticing promises of sweet chocolates and stuffed animals, and she had helplessly watched from the top of the class as they forsook their grades for boys who didn’t even know what deodorant was. She only shuddered to think of the state of their grades after a nasty break up. It was then that Joohyun had decided that her future was not worth risking over a boy’s attention. “Which is exactly why I never got involved in all that mess in the first place.”

“This must be the gods telling you that it’s time to.”

“What kind of fucked up god sets up a virgin as a love advice columnist?” she asked the sky loudly. If she had known there was anyone listening, she would have insisted that her question was rhetorical and was not in need of any type of response! However, the gods cared not for grammar technicalities on the mortal plane. They just couldn’t resist the chance to respond to someone so openly questioning their decisions with some good ol’ spite. Honestly, with the way things were going for her lately, Joohyun probably should have expected the frisbee flying merrily towards her face, even if she hadn’t just challenge the universe. 

“Oh fuck!” Joohyun jerked out of the way and felt the frisbee thunk against her shoulder instead. “Ow.” At this point, she didn’t even have the capacity to be annoyed; she just braced herself for whatever misfortune life threw at her next. 

“Sorry about that!” A boy called out, jogging up to them. As he came into clearer view, she noted that he looked far from misfortunate, and also had to remind herself that staring was rude even if someone was unnaturally handsome. His features were soft yet striking, like he had been carefully sculpted from cotton candy. Or maybe a fluffy rain cloud? Joohyun shook her head a little as if that would get her to stop staring so shamelessly. She speculated whether it was the sun that made it look like his blond hair was a glowing halo. Okay seriously, stop staring! He gave Joohyun a sweet smile when he reached them. “My friend got a bit distracted. Now that I’m here, I can’t say that I blame him. Hope we didn’t do too much damage!” 

“Uh,” was her captivating reply.  

Jihoon, never one to miss such a ripe opportunity, piped up beside her. “She’ll be fine. This is Joohyun, by the way.” 

His smile widened at Woozi’s introduction, and Joohyun could swear there was an actual twinkle in his eyes. “Nice to meet you both. I’m--”

“Yoon Jeonghan!” They all looked towards the call. The ethereal boy let out a startlingly loud cackle at the sight of his friend, who gave the two strangers a sheepish wave before continuing to gesture for Jeonghan to return. Joohyun must have been put in a staring mood, because she didn’t miss how his friend’s big ears were a shade of pink and how they bloomed into a cherry red when they briefly made eye contact. She caught herself wondering if all the boys at Mansae University were always this cute. 

“I guess I better go,” the boy named Jeonghan shrugged. Joohyun felt his fingers brush against hers when he took the frisbee from her hand, his eyes glinting mischievously. Now she was sure she was seeing things. “See you two around!” 

They both watched him retreat in an awestruck silence. That was certainly… unanticipated. Even long after Jeonghan and his friend were out of sight, the brief encounter left a blanket of fogginess lingering over them. Had she not felt his fingers on hers, Joohyun would have easily believed that it had all been in her head. At the same time, she was pretty sure that she wasn’t bold enough to conjure up someone that looked like that on her own. As she continued to fathom how a human being could glow, Joohyun felt the fog dissipate into the warm summer air. She felt like she was waking up from a disorienting dream, and she blinked to hasten the process. To her growing bewilderment, she found that her heartbeat was steady as she came back to her senses, her mind seemingly devoid of the panic and doubt that had plagued her all week. It was a gasp of fresh air. 

Jihoon, on the other hand, had long broken free from the strong impression that the blond boy made. He noted the dazed look on his best friend’s face and rolled his eyes. Who knew that a pretty boy was all it took to make her shut up a bit? He nudged Joohyun impatiently, so that she could pay attention to him while he roasted her for totally flubbing her chances.  “You thinking of risking it all for that guy?” 

In an instant, Joohyun slammed herself back into reality just to shove Jihoon away from her. “That is so not happening,” she said a little too indignantly. Before Jihoon could reassure her that the guy seemed interested enough even though she had only said a single syllable to him, Joohyun suddenly turned to him very seriously. “Do you really think I  can do it, Jihoon?” 

“What, bang that guy? I can try calling him back here if you want,” he snickered. 

“You know what I mean!”  

“Okay sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Jihoon replied, his grin now melting into a familiar smile, the one that could put her at ease on her lowest days. “I just don’t know why you have to ask. You and I both know that you kick ass at writing. You’ve written about stuff like natural disasters and the student protests, no problem at all. It’s not like you have a PhD in environmental science or politics. How is this any different? ”

Joohyun scrunched her face as if Jihoon had just suggested that chocolate milk came from brown cows. “Dude, they’re completely different. Those articles were reporting on facts. I did research, I conducted interviews!” 

“That’s what I’m saying, Joo!” Jihoon exclaimed suddenly. As smart as she was, he couldn’t help getting a little giddy whenever he thought of a good idea before her. “Why not treat Miss Soju like any other of your other projects? I mean, love is probably one of the most well-documented experiences throughout history, and people are still going through all the same shit. There’s probably thousands of resources for a man simping on a hot chick alone. You can even take your pick, like movies, songs, books, weird couples on Youtube?You don’t need to have experience, because you can just do the research! ” 

“Research?” Joohyun repeated. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was doing the work. From the moment she had decided to become a journalist, everything she had done was a strategic move to get her closer to her end goal. She had spent sleepless nights perfecting the details of her writing, countless hours reading through endless archives of old articles. Hell, she even restricted herself from dating for years just so she could focus on keep her grades up. It was almost too easy of a solution. Maybe she was meant to do this after all.

 Another couple of months of research would simply be another hurdle on her way to the finish line and she was getting closer and closer. Finally, she felt a smile spread across her cheeks, a real, genuine smile. “I… I can do that.” 

“Now that,” Jihoon said as he took her hand in his, pulling her up to her feet, “sounds like So Joohyun. Or should I say Miss Soju?” 

She laughed as she dusted the grass off of her butt. “You know, it’s probably not a good idea to include the first part of my name in my anonymous persona. It makes it so obvious that it’s me.”

“Yeah, I mean it would be obvious if people actually knew who you were in the first place,” Jihoon scoffed, narrowly dodging a kick from her. “That’s a good thing for you! Anyway, let’s get out of here, I have a couple of tweaks to make to my song before releasing it tonight. Could you listen to it by the way? I need to know if it’s too cheesy.” 

“Oh, the song you’re writing about your mystery muse?” Joohyun hummed playfully while packing up their blanket. She followed after her best friend as he began the short climb uphill. “I don’t know if I want to, you’ve been pretty out of pocket today.”

“Hey!” he said defensively. “First: I don’t need a muse for my songs, I just have a very vivid imagination and my talent does the rest. Second: I literally just stopped you from giving up on your lifelong dream of becoming a journalist, so I think you owe me one. You’re just jealous I can write love songs without having an existential crisis.” 

“See, that is what I mean by out of pocket,” she paused for a beat. “I may be willing to listen to your song. For a small price, of course.”

“Okay, deal,” he agreed without hesitation, missing the way Joohyun deviously smirked beside him. They reached the concrete pavement at top of the hill and headed in the direction of his nearby apartment. “What is it this time, Ms. So?” 

“Well Mr. Lee, thanks to your lovely suggestion earlier, I have been inspired to begin work immediately. So we shall be watching Twilight on movie night,” she said all too gleefully, mostly for satisfaction that Jihoon’s twisted face of disgust gave her. 

“Do we have to?” he groaned.

 “It’s for my research!”

#seventeen #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #pour.up #dj.woozi #mu.eros #soju.queen

[helianthus21]

Heli’s Fix-It Rec List

So a while ago I was asking for some fix-its for the Casifer storyline and got some amazing recs. And because they were all so good for my bitter heart, I decided to compile a list of spn fix-it recs by the season. The hashtags give info about whether the fic is gen or has a ship (which would be Destiel bc. you know me) and what issue the fic is trying to resolve or fix, as well as other things that I thought should be mentioned.

Here we go:

Season 8

A Room Of One’s Own by NorthernSparrow All Dean wants is a little privacy. Cas doesn't understand.

#destiel #explicit #post-s6 guilt #closure for godstiel

Season 9

Human Perspective by skydark Post 8x23 AU.  After the fall Dean realizes he's not trying teach Castiel to be human for purely selfless reasons; he hopes to gain something from it, too.

#destiel #human!Cas #endgame angel!cas #trueforms #team free heaven

There Are Many Things by imogenbynight In which Dean and Castiel learn, through trial and error, how to be together.

#destiel #9x03 #human!cas

My heart is beating from me by Enochian Things (Salr323) After Rexford, Castiel tries to live a normal life and Dean tries to let him go...  But nothing’s ever that easy.(Canon divergent from s9e06 “Heaven Can’t Wait”)

#destiel #human!cas #Daphne Allen #suicidal thoughts

Forgotten by NorthernSparrow Sam and Dean are working a case in Wyoming, but are distracted by news of a dangerous angel called "Castiel" who they can't remember ever having heard of before. The name seems a little bit familiar, but neither of the boys is sure why.

#gen fic #team free will #amnesia #human!cas #you will cry ur eyes out #i’m not kidding

Flight by NorthernSparrow Sequel to Forgotten. A/U from mid season 9. Castiel is human and wounded, and Dean and Sam need to get his grace back - and his wings. Things do not go as intended and Cas faces a difficult road. 

#destiel #team free will #wing fic #suicidal thoughts #Sam/OFC #you will sob

Season 10

Playing With Fire by aini-nufire When Charlie unearths the Book of the Damned, she draws the attention of the notorious Styne family, who will stop at nothing to get it back. And even with the help of an angel and a phoenix, the Winchesters might have bitten off more than they can chew…

#gen fic #Charlie lives

The Forever Crown by whichstiel Charlie's back on earth after being dead for over a year. As she investigates her mysterious resurrection, something lurks near her old Michigan stomping grounds.

#Charlie lives #Charlie/Gilda

The Most Important Thing by NorthernSparrow Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

#destiel #amnesia #team free will #Cas & Claire

Season 11

What is Hidden, What is Seen by ExpatGirl The Darkness has descended, and Castiel must make a choice. What, in reality, is the nature of Free Will, and where does love end and self-effacement begin? And why didn't Castiel know about the Mark of Cain and its relation to The Darkness in the first place? This began as a one-shot called "The Hanged Man" and has turned into...something else.

#destiel #s11 rewrite #Charlie lives #Hannah lives #Cas deserved better #trueform

Pieces by Castiel_For_King Castiel switched places with the Devil to give the world one last chance.  Almost a year after taking his place in the cage, Sam and Dean finally manage to get him out.  Unfortunately, some pieces got left behind.

#post-casifer #trauma recovery #wing fic #team free will #temporary amnesia

There’s An Angel In These Woods by Castiel_For_King "It had hurt, Dean remembered.  It had hurt deeply whenever he would snap out of worry or raise his voice in frustration and Cas would shrink away from him with fear flashing in his eyes and move instinctively towards Sam – where he felt safe, away from the threat, away from Dean.  It was that – seeing Cas looking at him like he was the dangerous thing that made his wings tremble and spread – which had been the driving force behind Dean’s quest to temper his ingrained reflexes and make an effort to act less like…well, a hunter.  Because he’d only just recently learned that it made Cas feel like prey.  Even if the angel didn’t understand what it was that he was feeling."

#destiel #post-casifer #trauma recovery #wing fic #team free will #Jesse/Cesar

Favorite Son by aini-nufire Coda to 11x18: Amara's plan to get God's attention works.Now with follow-up chapter after 11x20

#post-casifer #gen fic #team free will #Chuck & Cas

We Band of Brothers by LadyWallace S11 AU—Amara must be defeated, but Sam and Dean can’t do it alone, thus some unexpected help arrives in the newly resurrected archangels. But figuring out how to save Cas and Lucifer from Amara and creating a trap that will hold her might be too much to handle. Will they survive the final fight, or will the world fall into Darkness? Gen-No Slash

#gen fic #casifer #team free will #angel brothers

Three Angels Walk Into A Bar by 29-pieces Lucifer can't take on Amara by himself. Michael is useless, but there's another archangel that he might turn to - one who is none too happy about his big brother parading around in Castiel's body. Oh, or that whole thing where Cas is being tortured instead of left alone. Even if they beat Amara, how are they supposed to rescue Cas when the Devil holds all the cards? S11 AU

#gen fic #casifer #team free will #angel brothers

Season 12

The Choice by aini-nufire Post 12x19 “The Future” - It takes them a year to find Cas.

#brain washing #gen fic #team free will

The Sum Of My Regrets by procasdeanating “A quick trip to the past, that’s all. Look Cas, I know we can’t do anything about all the innocent people getting into the crossfire of our battles, but this I can do. Let me rescue this child and give Lily Sunder back her life. What can possibly go wrong?” In which Dean Winchester travels through time, learns a thing or two about best laid plans and falls in love with an angel – all over again.

#destiel #minor character undeath #cas in a female vessel #Lily Sunder

#spn #fic rec #fix-it fic #destiel #gen fics #charlie lives #hope sb appreciates this as much as me^^ #casifer #godstiel #brainwashing #cas and claire #human!cas #angel!cas #9x03 for ts #chuck and cas #depression #happy ending #which all of them have obviously #this took me way too long haha i forgot about it tbh:'D

[the-jade-cross]

Over the Mountains - Chapter 1

My name is Persephone Anatello. My first name is pronounced (p-ur-s-eh-f-oh-n-ee) and my last name is pronounced (Anne-uh-tell-oh).

I an 99 years old but I only look like I could be twenty or so. I have deep brown hair and leaf green eyes. I was born alongside by twin brother, Prometa (Pro-m-eh-t-ah) but he died during a war. My mother was a halfbreed: half dwarf half elf. Her mother was an elf and her father was a dwarf. My father...was also halfbreed: half skin changer (on his mother's side) and half wizard (on his father's side). In that case, I'm not a half breed but more like a quarter breed. I am part elf, dwarf, skin changer and wizard!

With all of these heritages, I have many powers. From my mother's side I have developed mostly my style of fighting and my features. I am petite like a dwarf, but not as short as a hobbit, standing about four feet tall at most. That is taller than most hobbits luckily. I don't possess the dwarves's rugged figure but rather the slender, graceful and delicate body of an elf, including the ears but they aren't as pointed as most elves, but they're pointy none the less.

I have no beard (THANK THE HEAVENS!) but my dark hair (according to my parents) came from the dwarf side. It's thick and hardy like a dwarves but soft and silky like an elf's. I have developed the strength, endurance and stubbornness of the dwarves but the agility, gracefulness, patience and good manners as well as fighting style from the elves.

My fighting style is a mixture of all my ancestors so most people think I am a completely rare race myself. Most people call me A Whisperer but before my brother died, he named our 'race' Faerie.

The traits that I have inherited from my father is my ability to transform into a wolf. My father's ancestor was a fox skin changer but I turned out to be a wolf skin changer. most people don't believe it because I don't look like most skin changers when I am in human form. I can fool anyone. I'm not as tall nor aggressive and am actually very kind and a good companion when in wolf form. I can transform whenever I wish but sometimes I cannot help it especially if I'm upset, scared or angry.

From my wizard heritage, I have developed the ability to use some magic. I can conjure fire, water, light as well as a levitating spell but sometimes they don't work especially if something is on my mind, I'm wounded or upset.

As far as features go besides my hair, my parents told me that my green eyes came from my skin changer side for they are the rarest green color ever.

However, they match my rich brown hair perfectly, setting off the copper colors in my hair. Of course however, my hair and eyes change color whenever I am going through transformation from human to wolf, or when I am using my wizard magic. During that time, my eyes turn violet and my hair takes on several shades of purple and pink.This soon developed into the wizards referring to me as the Purple Wizard or the Wizard of the Milky Way.

Having all these talents soon proved my downfall for no dwarves or humans would let me near them. My elven people of Rivendell took me in shortly after my brother was killed in battle and I stayed with them for a good part of my life. After that I went and lived with Gandalf the Gray for a time as well as Radagast on and off. I never lived with men or dwarves but I ran into them occasionally. In terms of skin changers, they were all wiped out before I was born so I never found any of my skin changer people.

By the time I turned 80, I ran away from other people but kept in touch with the elves and wizards. I lived on my own in the wilderness, wandering around and exploring. Before long I knew almost every single corner of the world. I worked as a spy for the wizards and elves and made many friends especially with Arwen, Elrond and Galadrial.

It wasn't until I was 99 that I received a visit from the Wizard. Gandalf had a mission for me.... but that meant I would have to come out of hiding. Well, better late than never.

********

"So listen here Sepha," the wizard said, using Persephone's nickname. "I'll be going in with the dwarves. I want you to wait until all the dwarves arrive."

"How will I know when they're all here?" Persephone whispered.

The two were hiding in the bushes of the garden, watching the dwarves who were one by one approaching the hobbit hole.

"I'll let you know when I want you to come in," Gandalf whispered. "How about that?"

Sepha nodded and sat back in the bushes, "I'll just stay here then."

Gandalf nodded and got up, brushing himself off and heading to the door just as a group of dwarves arrived.

Sepha drew out her two swords and began to run her fingers over the elvish runes.

The swords she had fashioned herself but in memory of her mother, she had etched in elvish designs to the blade, as well as styling the sword to look ancient elvish. However, on the other side of the sword that most people didn't see, she had etched dwarfish designs.

After a while she set the sword back onto the hilts on her back. She messed with the iron wrist brace that she wore on her left wrist. After her brother died, she had decided to hold her race with pride. People always tried guessing which race she was so she decided to make Faerie's official even though there had only been two.... and only one was still alive. She had fashioned a large metal bracelet type thing that came from below her elbow to her wrist, hugging her arms snugly. Two strips of thin metal ran around her middle finger, connecting the brace.

Etched deep into the brace were designs that she had designed herself, making them 'Faerie' designs. most of them were shaped like skin changers with a mixture of dwarf and elf designs intertwined as well as magical designs for their wizard culture. On the underneath where no one but she could see, she etched in her family tree in Khuzdul and around the tree was a wolf, a swirl of magic, a dwarf axe, an elvish arrow and at the top, her brother's name in elvish.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard a knocking beside her. Turning, she saw Gandalf looking at her through a window, winking at her. Time to go inside.

Standing up, she pulled her hood on and pulled her mask over her face, only letting her green eyes show. She put her swords onto her back and put her left hand under her cloak. She didn't want to flash her Faerie band just yet.

She knocked firmly on the door and it was answered by a little man whom she guessed was Bilbo. he was shorter than her and looked slightly shocked.

"GAAAAANNNNDDAAAALLLLFFFF?????" Bilbo called, looking at the girl uncertainly.

Gandalf arrived within seconds and smiled at Persephone, "Ah there you are my dear. Come on in."

Sepha stepped inside and soon saw that she was the last person to arrive. There was a host of dwarves standing in the kitchen doorway, all of them crowding to see who had arrived. She glanced over them quickly and caught sight of two young dwarves who looked about her age, both staring in awe. The tallest dwarf was bald and had his arms crossed, considering the girl thoughtfully. However, the dwarf who was obviously a leader had his eyebrows down.

"Who is this Gandalf?" a young dwarf asked quietly.

"Everyone, I would like you to meet the fifteenth member of the company: Persephone Anatello." Gandalf said. "Persephone, I would like you to meet THorin Oakenshield."

The leader stepped forward and looked slightly down at the girl. Persephone considered him from beneath her hood, not letting him even see the color of her eyes. He was strikingly handsome with ebony black hair, the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen and firm features.

"We are not taking a woman with us Gandalf," Thorin snapped.

Persephone rolled her eyes which at once caught the attention of FIli and Kili.

"Uncle, we don't even know anything about her. She might be a really good fighter." Kili suggested.

THorin snorted, "She wont even show her face."

Sighing, Persephone reached up and pulled her hood back, letting her brown hair down and revealing her bright green eyes. Everyone was taken aback by her beautiful eyes but they weren't prepared when she pulled her mask down.

Fili took a step back in shock and Kili's jaw dropped open.

"By my beard," Bofur whispered to Nori, "She's a bonnie lass!"

An old dwarf, Balin, stepped forward and considered the girl, "How old are you lass?"

Sepha smiled, knowing that they all probably thought she was a human, "99 sir."

Balin's eyebrows shot up and Sepha saw Thorin's eyes widen in surprise.

"I am part dwarf," she explained. "That's why I'm short."

Fili snickered when Kili frowned, not liking the idea of being called short.

"What about fighting?" Dwalin inquired, towering over the girl.

Sepha looked up at the huge intimidating dwarf with no fear in her eyes. This surprised everyone for Dwalin was rather frightening. She smiled. "Swords."

Dwalin looked at THorin in time to see a faint smile lick across the dwarf's face. Thorin was especially fond of the sword, even over an axe. That was a good first impression on Sepha's part.

"I like her," Fili chirped while Kili still gawked.

Balin nodded, "I think she would be a good asset to the team."

"Sepha is also a trained healer," Gandalf pointed out. "She is also extremely talented in navigation and tracking."

"I'm in," Dwalin remarked.

All eyes turned to Dwalin in surprise. He was considering the girl with a firm look but a smile on his face. He was nodding slowly.

"Never judge a book by it's cover. Let's give her a try."

All eyes turned to Thorin who was pinching the bridge of his nose. He obviously wasn't all for it. He sighed.

"Fine. But on a trial basis."

epha tried to avoid the dwarves at all costs while they lingered around the place, bothering the poor hobbit. She soon found her way into the kitchen where Nori and Ori were putting the dishes away. She could tell they would be there a while so she twirled her fingers, not letting them see her in the shadows.

Suddenly, the dishes began to float and levitate to their cabinets, leaving Ori and Nori stunned. Halfway through, the two let out horrified squeals and rushed from the kitchen. Sepha chuckled to herself, finishing her job and turning.

That was when she realized that two pairs of eyes were staring at her in awe: Fili and Kili.

"That is absolutely brilliant!" Kili gushed. "How did you do that?"

Sepha smiled, "I'm part wizard on my father's side."

"but you're part dwarf too?" Fili inquired, "That is officially the coolest thing I have ever seen!"

Sepha chuckled and pulled her hood over her hair, leaving her mask down, "What are you guys going to do next? It's a few hours before it's time for bed."

The two nodded, "Thorin is calling us into the sitting room. Come on."

The two grabbed each of her hands and pulled her into the living room. All the dwarves were there and Sepha could see Gandalf sitting in the other room, nearby while Bilbo was in his bedroom, the door open.

Sepha didn't want to intrude because of the silence in the room, she knew that this was a dwarfish thing. Pulling away from Fili and Kili, she stood in the doorway, arms crossed, partially in the shadows.

She could see the smoke from the pipes make swirls in the air and it smelled sweet to her. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a deep baritone voice singing and Sepha realized in shock that it was THorin!

He was staring into the fire, one arm on the mantle, singing deeply as the other dwarves began to join him.

Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away ere break of day To find our long-forgotten goldThe pines were roaring on the height The winds were moaning in the night The fire was red, it flaming spread The trees like torches blazed with light

When they finished, Sepha found herself smiling. One by one, the dwarves said goodnight to each other and headed out of the room, off to find a corner of the room to sleep. Soon, it was only Dwalin, Fili and Kili in the room. Kili was staring at the fire, almost sadly while Fili had an arm around his shoulders. Dwalin had a hand on his shoulder, patting it.

"Kili," Sepha said, stepping into the dim light, "Are you alright?"

The youngest dwarf nodded, "it's just.... this is my first time really being away from home and.... I don't know...."

Sepha smiled and sat down on the other side of Kili. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and the dwarf laid his head on her shoulder.

"I know what it feels like," she whispered. "I had to leave my home... when I was young and I felt lost and alone. Even though there were people to care for me, I felt like I didn't belong."

"What happened to your parents?" Kili whispered.

Sepha stiffened and Kili sensed it, "You don't have to tell me if you dont want to."

"They... were killed in war," she whispered, "So was my twin brother... Prometa."

"I'm sorry lass," Dwalin said, standing by the mantle where Thorin had stood not long ago, "No one that young should lose their loved ones."

Sepha nodded and stroked Kili's hair and she felt him shiver, "What do you miss about home the most Kili?"

FIli and Dwalin could tell right away that she was trying to comfort him so they didn't say anything.

"I miss my mother.... she was a woman.... but she was so strong too! So brave when everyone else was scared or upset. She was the strongest person I know..." Kili whispered.

Sepha smiled and hugged him tighter, "Never feel like you should feel ashamed of missing your mother. It's the cowards who say that they don't miss their mothers, or sisters or wives. It's the strong brave ones who know that we aren't here to make them seem weak, but to help them be stronger."

Kili sniffed and sighed, "Can you sing something? My mom always sang when Fili and Kili were scared."

Fili was about to point out that she hadn't done that since they were kids but Sepha's smiled cut him off.

"Sure thing."

Fili sat forward, watching Sepha and Dwalin considered the young girl. Her face seemed to relax and her features lit up as her angelic, soft voice gently filled the room with a soft sensation that the dwarves had never felt before.

I saw the light fade from the sky On the wind I heard a sigh As the snowflakes cover my fallen brothers I will say this last goodbyeNight is now falling So ends this day The road is now calling And I must away Over hill and under tree Through lands where never light has shone By silver streams that run down to the sea

Under cloud, beneath the stars

Over snow one winter's morn I turn at last to paths that lead home And though where the road then takes me I cannot tell We came all this way But now comes the day To bid you farewell

Many places I have been Many sorrows I have seen But I don't regret Nor will I forget All who took the road with me

Night is now falling

So ends this day The road is now calling And I must away Over hill and under tree Through lands where never light has shone By silver streams that run down to the sea

To these memories I will hold

with your blessings I will go

to turn at last to paths that lead home

and though where the road then takes me

I cannot tell

We came all this way

but now comes the day

to bid you farewell

I bid you all a very fond farewell

When she finally finished, Fili's mouth was practically dangling open, Dwalin was smiling fondly at the girl and Kili was sound asleep, on the verge of snoring. Not looking at Fili or Dwalin, Persephone reached over and slipped from underneath Kili's head so that he was lying in front of the fire.

"Brisingr," she whispered, fire shooting from her fingers and making the fire burn brighter.

Dwalin jumped slightly at that but Fili just grinned in awe. As the girl slowly stepped into the kitchen, where she was going to bunk down for the night, Dwalin caught sight of Thorin standing in the doorway. His blue eyes were staring in wonder after Persephone while the rest of him was silent and serious... but calm.

Dwalin smirked and headed past THorin to get some sleep, "She's a special one," he whispered as he passed. "I can tell."

When the dwarf was gone, THorin looked at where Persephone had curled up against the warm stone wall next to the fireplace. He had to admit that even though it wasnt the most comfortable position, sleeping sitting up, her idea of sitting against the hot stones wasn't a bad idea.

"We'll see," Thorin whispered, looking from the girl to his two nephews who were sleeping by the fire.

#thorin #oakenshield #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x oc #hobbit #lotr