#maybe they should get married or something

[bratzforchris]

Inked Daisies (Chapter 3)

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Read Chapter 2 here

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: Drinking, sexual harassment and unwanted touch, protective!Matt, physical fighting/mentions of blood, suggestive comments, a few uses of y/n

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Save me protective!Matt...protective!Matt save me. In all seriousness though, this is a tad bit different than my usual fluffy stuff, so let me know what you think!! Enjoy 💐🌸🌹🌻

“We need to talk.”

You jumped, dropping your pink watering can in the process. You whirled around to see who the speaker was, placing a hand to your racing heart. “Nick, what the fuck? You can’t do that.”

“Where have you been all week?” Your friend asked, leaning against the brick wall of your shop as he spoke. 

“What do you…mean?” You asked carefully, picking up your watering can and continuing to water the flowers in the planter boxes on the window. “I’ve been busy, Nick,” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Oh, it’s not me I’m worried about,” he mumbled, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s Chris. He’s acting like a mopey puppy because you haven’t been over.”

You bit your lip, feeling rather guilty about the way you’d sort of ghosted your friends. You’d been responding to their messages, of course, but you hadn’t made any move to hang out or became seemingly ‘under the weather’ when they asked. You figured it was best to just keep your distance for a few days until you wiped the memory of Matt walking in on you showering from your mind. Not to mention the way you hadn’t even been embarrassed about it. 

“I’m sorry…I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” You murmured, eyes sliding to the shop across the street subconciously. “Do you know what we should do?” You asked, still staring at the building across the street as you formulated an idea in your mind. 

“Attach you and Chris at the hip so he’ll stop fucking whining? Make you two get married?” Nick suggested, a jokingly cynical look on his face. 

“Okay, first of all, Chris is my best friend. We’re not getting married. We don’t even like each other like that.” You grumbled, finishing your task and walking towards the stained-glass door of your shop. 

Nick followed after you, stepping inside the shop as well, despite your business technically not being open for the day. Petal Perfection was an almost magical place, if you did say so yourself. You had started converting the old antique shop as soon as you’d bought the place, turning it from old and dusty to vibrant and full of life. On one wall was your register and the glass case that displayed your latest offerings and arrangements, while the other two held a variety of small trinkets and gifts, and a self-serve bouquet station where customers could pick the flowers they wanted and arrange them in their unique way. 

You started bustling around, straightening up and getting ready for the day, awaiting your employee’s arrival. Maybe it was the fact that you were consumed with guilt over how you’d treated the boys over the past few days, or maybe it was the implications about how Chris felt about you and marriage, but either way, the pale pink walls of your store felt like they were closing in on you. 

“We should surprise Chris at work tonight!” You said brightly as you wiped the glass case with a soft cloth. “Besides, I could use a night out.”

“Huh,” Nick tilted his head sideways as he looked at you, feeling like there was something off about your behavior, but not being able to place what it was. “I mean I guess, but where did that idea come from?”

“Can a girl not just want to have drinks and go dancing?” You asked him, faking a confident, happy aire. 

“God, you’re so ADHD. It’s not even funny.” 

“Says you.” 

Although Nick had been diagnosed with ADHD in childhood and you in high school, it had been a running joke between you two ever since you’d connected. Granted, your friend would always fight with people who tried to make fun of or discriminate against either of you, but that didn’t stop you from bullying each other. 

“Do you think Matt will want to come?” Nick asked, fiddling with his phone. 

At the mention of the middle triplet’s name, you froze, all memories of last Friday flooding back to you. “Uhhhh…he doesn’t really like…bars and stuff, y’know?”

If Nick seemed to catch onto your hesitation, he didn’t mention it. “You’re right. I’ll invite him anyway, though. He’s been hurled up in that shop like a fuckin’ hermit.” he said, jerking his thumb towards the street. 

Sure enough, Matt’s car was already parked outside ThreeSixty Tattoo, despite the fact that it was only just after eight in the morning and the shop didn’t open until noon. The shades were still drawn so that you couldn’t see inside the store, but you knew that he was already hard at work, prepping for a long day of tattoos and piercings. 

“You’re a good brother, Nick.” You smiled, setting up the register for the day as your first (and only) two employees filed into the shop. 

You watched as Nick bid you his goodbyes and left the shop, crossing to the smaller, painted black brick one across the street. A part of you that you couldn’t explain was glad Matt had already pulled the shades up for the day, because then you could sneak a peek at your friends every now and then before the rush for the day started. In a way, you almost hoped Matt would say yes to Nick’s offer, despite your avoidance of the triplets for the past week. Maybe if you saw him in person again, you would realize that what had happened wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

“I don’t see why we have to do this,” Matt grumbled as you led him and Nick through the bar, his older brother tugging his wrist. “It’s work. Chris is literally just at work.” 

“Because it’s a nice surprise!” You yelled over the thumping club music. “And it’s Friday night. Some of us like to do fun things with our weekends while we’re young, y’know?”

He knew you couldn’t see it due to the dim lighting, but Matt rolled his eyes as he was pulled through the crowd. Unlike his younger brother, Matt hated anything that had to do with bars, clubs, or party atmospheres. They were too chaotic and noisy, and drunk people were annoying. The brunette would’ve much rather sat and had a meaningful conversation with someone than go drinking. Sometimes though, when he was alone in his room at night, you were the first person that came to his mind when he wished he was someone else. Someone more outgoing, more friendly, more fun.

Like right now, for example. You were sliding in between bodies, laughing and talking as you made your way to the bar. All of the people you spoke to were complete and utter strangers, yet you talked like you’d known them your whole life, all while being completely sober. By definition, you were bubbly. Ever since Matt had known you, you’d had no trouble making friends. When he was alone, he thought about what it might be like to have that personality. People absolutely flocked to you, and to him, it was admirable. Without even noticing it, a small smile had crossed Matt’s face as he watched you, despite all the noise and the uncomfortable feeling of sweat against his skin as people continued to grind into each other. 

The three of you found seats at the bar, with you sitting in the middle and chatting animatedly while you waited for Chris to notice you. Right now, the youngest was in his zone, yelling out instructions to the trainees and bustling around with cocktail shakers in both hands. The club he worked at was one of the most popular in Los Angeles, and despite the cold January evening, tonight’s turnout was nothing short of humongous. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of waiting, Chris turned to his right, wiping sweat from his brow.

“What the fuck? What are you guys doing here?” he asked, a smile growing on his face despite the tiredness that was clearly evident. 

“We came to surprise you!” You stood up on the rungs of your chair, leaning across the bar and hugging Chris’ neck. “How’s the shift?”

“Busy as fuck. Do you know how many Manhattan’s I’ve made–” Chris was cut off when you were yanked back into your seat by Matt’s hands around your waist. 

“What was that for?” You grumbled, adjusting your tiny, leather shorts. 

“You’ll get hurt.” Matt said flatly, expression unmoving. 

“How?” You cocked your head incredulously, staring at the brunette who sat unmoving with his arms folded over his chest. 

“Yeah, Matt. How?” Chris challenged, never missing an opportunity to poke fun at one of his brothers. 

“You could fall.”

“And Chris would catch her.” Nick added in, quite enjoying the way Matt was fidgeting at the questions. 

“Would he?” Matt smirked when Chris was pulled away by another customer who was insistently ordering a margarita. “Cause it seems like he’s busy.”

“You’re no fun.” You groaned, finding yourself sliding back into the easy rhythm of friendship that you had always had with the boys. As the bass of whatever current EDM song was playing pounded in your heart, you found yourself thinking less and less about your little…encounter with Matt last week. “Come on, Nick,” You said, hopping off the stool and grabbing the oldest triplets’ hand. “Let’s dance.”

Matt watched as you and Nick were swept into the crowd. He heard Chris chatting his ear off on the side as he continued to make drinks for the people swarming the bar, but his eyes always found their way back to you. In the darkness of the club, you were like a little beacon of light. Your hips swayed to the music as you threw your head back laughing while Nick spun you around. Eventually, you started pulling other clubbers into your dance circle, and the boy found himself fighting the urge to join. He was a terrible dancer, but you made it look so effortlessly fun that he almost believed he could do it. 

“You got a crush on Y/N, man?”

Matt painstakingly pulled his eyes off of you and the dance floor, turning towards Chris, who was beating the mint leaves for a mojito, a cold yet inquisitive look on his face. “No.”

“You sure are acting like it,” the younger brunette said coolly, sweeping the ingredients into a shaker. “Watching her like a German Shepard and shit.”

Matt rolled his eyes, not even denying it as he looked back over towards the dance floor. You had drifted away from Nick by this point, not wanting to cockblock the oldest triplet who was currently chatting with a much taller guy with dreads and a septum piercing. In the nicest way possible though, Matt didn’t give a fuck about his brother. He had become attuned to your movements now, watching as you said something to some overly drunk motherfucker. 

The guy continued trying to talk to you, getting more heated as he spoke. A frown was growing on your face at his feeble attempts to get you somewhere more secluded, seemingly not understanding that you were here with your friends and wanted to be left alone. Matt told himself that he just wanted to keep an eye on you for your safety. He didn’t care who you did or didn’t talk to. You were just one of his friends, and he wanted you to be safe. The brunette halfheartedly  listened to Chris rattle off random nonsense while he bustled around the bar, but when the awful idiot placed an unwanted hand on your ass, Matt was up and across the club in three quick strides. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Matt asked roughly, yanking the guy’s arm off of you. 

“Chill, dude,” the guy slurred drunkenly, trying to wrest free from Matt’s grip. “She said she was single.”

“She’s not,” he lied easily, tightening his ironclad grip on the man’s arm. “And even if she was, that doesn’t give you a right to touch her without her permission.” 

“Matt…” You said tentatively, not wanting this to escalate. “It’s fine, okay? Let’s just go.”

Your friend wasn’t hearing you as he grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt, lifting him so that he was inches away from his own face. “Get the fuck out of here. Don’t touch her, don’t talk to her, don’t even fucking look at her. Got it?”

“Oh I’ll get out of here,” the guy sneered, alcohol hot on his breath. It was clear that in his drunken stupor he didn’t realize Matt was deadly serious. “And take that little pornstar body with me. I’ll fuck that bitch ‘til she can’t walk and make you watch. How about that, pretty boy?”

It all happened so fast. One second, the guy was taunting Matt, and the next, the brunette’s ring-clad knuckles had collided with his jaw. Matt continued to go at it on the guy’s face, landing blow after blow as clubbers yelped and yelled. Before any of you knew it, Chris had come from around the bar, pulling Matt back and making him drop the guy. Both men were still yelling, one clearly more drunk than the other as Chris pushed Matt into a corner. 

“Matt. You need to chill.” the youngest triplet yelled over the music, assessing Matt’s bloody nose and already bruising eye and jaw where the man had hit back. 

“He fucking grabbed Y/N’s ass!” Matt yelled, struggling against Chris’ hold. 

“Matt,” Chris said firmly, pinning his brother to the wall. “No fighting. He shouldn’t have touched her, but you can’t get physical, man.”

In the chaos and confusion, Nick had swept you up and out of the club. Matt didn’t know this, though. All he knew was that some guy, some motherfucker, had touched you against your will, and he was going to pay for that. Whether or not you were his girlfriend, he was going to protect you until his very last breath. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagines #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo fulff #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo edit #sturniolo triplets #inked daisies

[sweets3rial]

i wanted it to be you.

ch. 1 // ch. 2

di!leon x fem!reader

summary: you wanted it to be him. he wanted it to be you. though, life is unfair. you don't always get what you want.

tags: much angst, some comfort, pining, talks about the past, talks about past relationships, flashbacks, ex-bf lsk, engagement/marriage, cheating/infidelity, affair, smut, car sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, fingering, mating press, creampie, slow and sensual (?), regret, and even more sadness.

warnings: cheating on spouse (not cheating on leon and leon not cheating on reader)

word count: 7.5k

the sunset has always brought peace to Leon. it was like a rinse, a reminder that his day was ending and starting for someone else across the globe.

a reminder that the day was fading into night and then would fade into morning then night again. it was a peaceful goodbye, silent and celebrated by some in the world. 

the orange, pink, blue, and purple hues brought warmth to his heart. the soft breeze blew up from the cliff and into his hair, his deep brown strands flicking into his eyes and ticking the heights of his cheekbones. his cheeks felt cold to the touch just like his heart. 

unlike the beautiful view and sunset, the peaceful breeze, and the silence, the storm inside Leon was the complete opposite. his skin was littered with ugly scars that he tried his best to hide. there was a storm inside of his heart, tornados destroying his peace, and noise in his head he couldn’t clear. 

he couldn’t sleep, worried about too many things he couldn’t handle or solve. he was tired but sleep only made him even more tired. the nightmares he’d face every night made it hard for him to stay asleep. he’d shoot up in a cold sweat, slapping his hands around his comforter looking for something … or someone. 

nothing can erase the image of that bling, the blinding reflection of a diamond, blinding his eyes from his view of you. it wasn’t any ordinary ring, it was a wedding ring. it hurt, more than any knife or bullet that has painted scars on his body.

he couldn’t believe it. he wanted to deny that even though it’s been so long, that there was still hope. hope for the two of you, that one day time and fate would bring you back together. 

but it seems like fate had other plans. someone else caught your eye, maybe he’s better, maybe he’s enough, maybe he can be there for you the ways Leon couldn’t. 

all while, Leon has been waiting. he stares into the sunset and it reminds him of the warmth of your skin and the shine of your smile. he is planted onto the ground instead of floating on a high like he was when he was with you. he cries and he doesn’t have you to hug him. 

he stirs in his sleep and he doesn’t have you to calm him. he gets home tired and he doesn’t have you to lull him into a peaceful sleep. he’d fall into the crook of your neck, practically putting all his weight on you and you’d accept it with your arms wide open. 

you could barely wrap your arms around him but you still tried, running your hand up and down his back, cooing into his ear and placing soft kisses to his tears. it’s funny how two people can go from cuddling skin to skin to absolutely nothing in a day. 

even though he’s seen every inch of your body, held you in your most vulnerable states, touched you in places no one else can, spoken to you about the future, he even met your family. all that only for you to treat each other like strangers. he’s nothing but a stranger now. it’s not fair. 

he should be the one getting down on one knee and proposing to you. he should’ve been the one to see you clasp your mouth in shock and watch the tears of joy well in your eyes. he should’ve slid that ring onto your finger, he should’ve been the one. 

that man that you married doesn’t even know your jewelry of choice. he had no taste. Leon knew you much better than that. 

his fist clenched in the pocket of his leather jacket. 

it should’ve been him. 

he jumped at the sound of a car door shutting behind him, his head whipping around and his muscles tensing.

it was you. 

you had just crawled out from your car — parked next to Leons. your facial expression was indiscernible but he could tell you were shocked to see him. though, you weren’t alarmed. he watched as you pursed your lips, “you’re here.” 

it was more of a statement rather than a question. the sound of your voice instantly stilled the storm in his mind. suddenly, there were clear skies and sunlight. no more rain and thunder. no more noise. just silence and peace. 

there you were, standing there so casually in a sweater and jeans. nothing has changed but at the same time so much was different. 

he shrugged, hands still in his pockets. 

“i’m here,” 

he watched your lips curve into a chuckle, he wasn’t sure if his heart had stopped or if his heart was racing at a rapid pace.

you were just as beautiful as the day he lost you. it left him speechless at how gorgeous you can be, in any setting, with any hairstyle, wearing any clothes — preferably his clothes. he loved it watching you dig through his dresser to pull out any old t-shirt. 

it’s all you would wear around the house. his clothes. 

your head dipped down as you walked towards him. slow footsteps, dead leaves at your feet crunching as you got closer and closer. he could feel his heart speed up with each step. blood rushing to the tip of his ears and his cheeks, now warm with a small blush. 

you slowed your steps down at a tree — your tree. your hand ran over the initials carved into the bark. your heart instantly stung at the sight and memories were quick to play in your head. 

it was a late night, both you and Leon had leaned up against this very tree. 

you two were enjoying the peace and he was pointing out the constellations in the sky. you weren’t keeping memory of what stars connected to make this instead, you were looking at him. listening to him speak. 

you always loved listening to his passions. 

there was a certain glimmer in his eyes that always captured your eye, that glimmer that indicated he was happy or excited. if you asked him what his favorite band was, he’d spark up, or even when you’d laugh at his horrible jokes. his eyes would gleam, his smile would grow and his face would no longer look so … tense. 

it hurts that you haven’t seen that look in a while. 

you smiled, tracing the tip of your finger over the ‘scar’. he had carved your initials into the tree and back then, it was still bright green and fresh. you remember laughing at how he struggled to carve a heart with the tip of his combat knife. it was cliche, something kids would do, but you were kids back then. free and in love. 

you let your hand fall back into the pocket of your jeans as you continued walking towards him. he kept his eyes on you the whole way, still as enamored as he was before. 

no, he couldn’t be. you were going to be married soon. 

“how are you?” he asked while clearing his throat. 

“i’m…” you paused looking out into the horizon. meanwhile, he was stuck looking at you. the orange light from the sun warmed up your skin beautifully, a natural glow highlighting the tip of your nose and your cheekbones.

he is reminded too much of the memories you two made when he looks at you. 

he loved kissing the tip of your nose and nudging the tip of his into your cheeks. you’d complain at how cold the tip of his nose was and then he’d instantly warm your skin with a kiss. 

“i’m alright, how about you?” you finished staring back at him. if you were being honest, you weren’t alright. you were having many many doubts.

did you get engaged too fast? are you even in love? should you have said yes? is he the right man? will the wedding be a disaster? who are you going to invite? 

all these thoughts were rushing through your head and you needed peace and quiet. so you went to the only place that could relatively give you that. your spot, the one you shared with your past lover. 

“i’m still standing, aren’t i?” 

you chuckled, such a Leon thing to say. 

“also, uh congrats,” his hand left his pocket and gestured down at your left hand. instantly, the cold weight of your wedding band became apparent to you and a chill ran through you. hiding your hand behind your back, you smiled up at him. 

you knew how much it hurt him, you could see the pain and the dullness in his eyes. they weren’t glimmering, he wasn’t happy. 

“thanks,” you smiled, timidly. 

“when’s the wedding?”

“um, don’t know, still trying to figure that out,” you breathed out, tucking a coil behind your ear. “just like everything else in my life,” you mumbled out the last part but Leon heard it all along with the fact that you were wearing earrings. 

~

‘i uh,’ he was bad at giving presents. he always was. he wasn’t sure if the recipient would like it or not. 

‘i got you these but-‘

‘Leon! ‘ he watched your eyes shoot open as he brought the small velvet box into your view. 

‘yes?’ he asked with a lift of his brow before flicking open the box. a set of beautiful earrings that were small and childish but they reminded him of you. 

‘oh! i love them!’ 

‘out of all the things i bought you, these are your favorite?’ he tsked, tucking your hair behind your ear as he prepared to put them on for you. 

‘i know but they’re cute,’

‘silly goose,’

~

he’s seen you happy many times before but that was pure joy. the way you jumped into his arms and hugged him with the grip of a gorilla. they were simple earrings from a small shop, but he watched as you grazed your fingers over them in awe. 

you asked how much they were and winced back at the price. nothing was too expensive to Leon, as long as it was for you. 

his heart dropped at the sight of those earrings, they don’t even match your necklace-

actually, they do.

~

‘babe, want this?’

‘huh?’ you turned towards him away from speaking with another employee. 

‘they match your earrings,’ he tapped at your earlobes causing them to jiggle. 

‘leon, it’s expensi-‘ you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips while shaking his head. 

‘shush.’

‘you don’t have to.’ he smiled, placing a small kiss to your lips. 

‘i want to.’

~

you’re wearing the matching necklace as well. both contrasting against your ring. one being gold the other being silver. he knew how persistent you were about matching your jewelry to your outfits and to one another. 

you never wore gold and silver at the same time. so why?

your hair dropped back down in front of your face with a gust of wind, hiding away your earrings. 

Leon steered his attention away from you and back down to his feet, “your hair is longer,” he commented. 

you lifted your hand up and tugged at a strand of your hair, “oh yeah, i guess so,” 

you haven’t even noticed, funny how time moves so fast but yet so slow for you. it only feels like yesterday that you and Leon were up here, sitting on a blanket and watching the day fade into the night. your hair was much shorter back then. 

“it looks good, suits you,” 

“thanks,”

the tension was only getting thicker and thicker. this was the first time you two actually talked ever since … god knows when. when you two broke up maybe? it left a bitter taste on your tongue whenever you thought back to it. 

it reminded you that you and Leon rarely argued. you two both worked in the same field, you both understood the weight and responsibility it was to be an agent.

but sometimes, when you love someone so much, you tend to ball up a lot of emotions in order not to hurt them. 

it was about time that you both would explode. 

“why are you here?” you suddenly spoke up, finally cutting the tension down a little. 

“i’m thinking of you…” Leon spoke honestly, “of us,” 

he watched as you froze, eyebrows curving upwards and the corner of your lips dropping into a frown. 

“Leon-“

“i am happy for you,” he was quick to cut you off, raising his voice over yours. 

“stop,” you mumbled out, dropping your head to avoid his gaze. 

“but why? how…” he paused, collecting his anger. he licked his lips and looked down at you. he watched as you bit your bottom lip and screwed your eyes shut. 

“why couldn’t we work?” he asked pointing between the both of you. 

“we were hurt, Leon,” you sighed, blinking away a tear before it could fall as you looked up at him. when you met his blue eyes, your heart sank. he was so hurt. he was still hurt. even after years, he is still hurt. 

“and hurt people hurt people.”

his sad blue eyes always hurt you more than any wound ever inflicted upon you. seeing him sad could easily bring you to your knees, as it is your biggest weakness. you were convinced that nothing could hurt you more than Leon. 

“we could’ve worked it out, we could’ve talked, gone to couples therapy,” he took a step closer to you, his body felt weak almost as if he had broken every bone in his body. “we could’ve done something,”

“i did something! i moved on, okay!” you suddenly shouted out at him, causing him to pause. “i found someone who can communicate and i found someone who doesn’t bottle up and hide away, he loves me-“

“does he?” Leon grimaced, you pursed your lips and hid away from him. almost, as if you were ashamed. he continued to slowly approach you as if you were a timid animal. he was gentle and slow. 

“see, don’t do that-“

“he doesn’t even know half of you, he doesn’t know you like i do,” 

“Leon, stop.” 

even if you told him to stop, you weren’t moving away. you two were opposite sides of a magnet, you couldn’t help but attract each other.

the smell of his cologne was dragging you back to him, the smell of his sweat and his shampoo. the sound of his voice. the warmth radiating off of him. 

it was something you were so used to. it was home. 

he grabbed ahold of your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. you instantly melted into him, the feeling of his rough palms was always better than anyone else. you could recognize his touch out of a thousand men. 

he was never rough, he was always gentle. he used his hands to kill but to also touch and soothe.

“please,” he whispered out. a breeze coming from behind you lifted the scent of your perfume off your skin and into Leon. you always had a signature scent, one that had his mind in a frenzy whenever it hit him. 

“i know your dream ring by heart, like the back of my hand.” he huffed out. you couldn’t help but breathe out the air caught in your lungs. he reached up slowly with his other hand, brushing your hair back to reveal your earrings. 

“they matched these exact earrings,” his hand traveled down to pick up the pendant of your necklace, “and this necklace.” 

as he turned the pendant around, your initials were carved on the back, the same font and style as your initials on the tree. he still remembers going to the jeweler and asking him to engrave those two letters, with a really bad heart around them. 

showing him the picture of the initials carved onto the tree. you must treasure her. he had said and Leon replied, more than she’ll ever know.

“why do you still have these?” 

“because…they’re my favorite.” you couldn’t lie. out of the plethora of necklaces and earrings, you always reached for this pair. telling your fiance lies; oh, they were a gift from my father. 

“because they’re from you and i can’t let them go, i can’t…” you trailed off, looking down at his chapped lips. he was biting on the inside of his cheek, you could tell. you remember telling him so many times not to do so, you didn’t like it when he was anxious. 

you would always remind him that you were right there beside him, even if he was all alone. 

no words could explain what you were feeling right now. it was a mix of anger and sadness.

but it wasn’t the type of anger that made you want to lash out, it was the type of anger that made you want to cry and walk away. but the sadness was something else, it made you want to curl up into his chest and stay there. 

it made you want to go home. but home was where Leon was. 

Leon was the first man you’ve ever loved. you wanted him to be your first and your last. you remember looking at him and seeing a peaceful future. you thought, after you two split, that you were going to be able to start over again. 

with someone new, something fresh. but your fiance, he wasn’t Leon. he was great in his own way. he was handsome and kind. he was smart and caring. but he wasn’t Leon. 

sometimes, his voice would morph into Leons. his laugh would sound like Leon's. his pattern of breathing sounded like Leon's. you couldn’t escape him or maybe you just couldn’t let him go. 

“are you happy?”

his question caught you off guard, your eyebrows scrunched up at him, and you were slightly taken aback and sure that he meant something else. though, once you looked into his eyes you knew he was serious. “what?”

“does he make you happy?“ 

“stop.” you shook your head. 

“answer the question,” he gulped down the lump in his throat, searching for something and anything in your eyes to prove that he was wrong. 

“yes,” you stammered out. his hopes died then and he nodded slowly, understanding that there was no longer a place for him in your heart anymore. he was happy that you were happy, but he just wished you were happy with him. 

he let go of your hand, letting it drop to his side. 

“but,” he was taken aback when you reached back for his. you wrapped your hand around his pinky, halting him in his steps. “i’ll never love him like i loved you.” 

his eyes flickered up to yours, only to meet the top of your head as your head was tilted downwards towards the ground. you were fighting back tears, your bottom lip shaking. 

“he makes me happy but the very thought of you has me overjoyed,” you looked back up at him, a tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and the tip of your nose swelling red. 

“he buys me designer clothes but i still wear your sweatpants i stole five years ago i-“ you continued to ramble and Leon just listened, his heart fluttering with every word. he never thought he’d hear those words spill from your pretty lips. 

“i still come here almost every day to look at the constellations you showed me,” you sucked in a deep breath, “i drive by the house, our house,” 

you let the tears fall freely as his hand slowly intertwined with yours again. he thought you didn’t pay any mind to him, that he was just a lost memory to you, that you couldn’t care less about him but…

“i still have all your gifts, your letters, your trashy collectibles, i…” you paused to suck in another deep breath, your hands shaking in his but you calmed down at the wind blowing his cologne your way. he was here in front of you and finally, you could tell him the truth. the one you’ve wanted to tell him for a long time. 

“i wanted it to be you.” 

Leon's breath faltered as the words left your mouth. you wanted it to be him, not anyone else. 

without another word, he tugged you closer to him. it was a matter of seconds before his lips found yours, enveloping them in his warmth and passion. you reciprocated his kiss instantly. a tear falling down your cheek and meeting the corner of your mouth. 

he could taste the salty tear in your kiss, and it reminded him of the days he would spend kissing away your tears after you had a nightmare or cuddling you to his chest as you ruined another shirt with your tears.

his arms wrapped around the small of your back, bringing you closer to him as he pressed deeper into your kiss. he was holding onto you so tight to the point it was hard to breathe and even harder to stay put on two feet. 

his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, both eagerly and hungrily. as he did so, you opened your mouth for him. his tongue met yours in a wet frenzy, and he moaned into your mouth as his grip on you only grew stronger. 

you took a few steps back, feeling as if you were going to fall. he only followed you in pursuit, up until you had backed up into the tree. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. your kiss was becoming sloppy, with wet lips and fighting tongue. 

he gave your thigh a quick two taps and you knew exactly what that meant. you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and he smirked against your lips. the fact you remembered, even after all these years, drove him insane. 

you let him carry you wherever he wanted, you didn’t care to look or pull away from his lips. you trusted him. if he were to take you away right now, you would go. you’d leave with him and live the life you always wanted…with him. 

he pressed you up against his passenger door, unintentionally slamming your body into the metal. the only time Leon was ever rough was during times like this. desperation, hunger, and pure lust. his hand frantically searched for the back door handle. 

the minute he got it open, one minute you were pressed against the door and the next you were being thrown into his backseat. you landed on his leather seats with a loud thud, your chest heaving up and down as you stared at him. 

his eyes were no longer gentle or sweet, they were filled with lust and something devious. but also something so deep and passionate. he was hungry but he was never greedy. 

he slowly crawled into the car as you crawled away. he was out of breath, cheeks flushed and lips swollen pink. you looked up at him as he slowly crawled on top of you. 

he hooked his foot into the door handle and he pulled his knee up to shut the door. his eyes stayed on yours, he didn’t want to waste another word or breath. he slid his fingers through your hair, taking a hold of the back of your head. 

it suddenly dawned on you what had happened and what you two were doing. he was leaning down to meet your lips once again and you forgot. to you now, this was another late night, you two had just carved your initials onto the tree and he had just got his new car. 

he was still blonde and your hair was shorter. he didn’t have his bullet wound and you didn’t have a scar on your hip. you didn’t have this heavy ring on your finger and you were still young. 

you leaned up onto your elbows, meeting him halfway with just as much heat. his hand traveled up your thigh, guiding you to wrap your leg around his waist once again and you followed. just like before, you followed his every instruction. 

“god, i missed you,” he breathed out with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. he then traveled down your jaw, with slow wet kisses. your whole body shivered as he found that spot just south of your earlobe. you sucked in a shaky breath. 

“Leon, please,”

“patience, my love,” he tsked. your legs tightened around his neck, even though he said you needed patience, you needed him. you missed him so much, a part of that was the sex. the sex was fucking amazing. it always was, from the very first time you met until now. 

he fucked you in a way you could never comprehend. he knew just the right things that had the breath leaving your body and your heart leaping out of your chest. 

as he kissed at your collarbone, his hands were traveling up your sweater. large, hot, and rough. his hands felt like sand paper against your soft skin but god it felt so good. you let out a trembling breath as you ground your hips into the buckle of his belt. 

he groaned at the friction, grinding his erection down to meet your hips. he could feel your heartbeat pulsing at your heat through both of his jeans. it was evident that you both were in dire need of each other. 

his calloused hands cupped at your bare breast and he groaned into your skin at the feeling of your bare skin. something he hasn’t felt in so long, your warm and soft skin. his cock jumped in his jeans, just the taste of your skin has driven him crazy. 

he felt dizzy, he hadn’t breathed or blinked ever since his lips hit yours. he didn’t want to waste a single taste or glance. he circled both of your pebbled nipples with his thumbs, smirking at the small whine that left your mouth. 

“no bra, huh?”

“shut up,” you grumbled, beyond sexually frustrated. 

he couldn’t help but laugh as he dragged your sweater off of your body. he tossed it somewhere in his front seat and you could see in his eyes that excitement.

he stared at your breast in complete awe, your body was something Leon worshipped. you were his god and he was all but a simple beggar on the street. 

he always stared at you as if you were some distinct painting; taking note of every small detail, every mole and every scar. even if he’s seen you a thousand times, he always acts like its the first time he’s laid eyes on you. 

“my gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” he sighed, his lips meeting yours in a quick kiss, “how can you be so perfect?”

your heart fluttered at his words, he never failed to have you utterly speechless. 

you trailed your hands over his shoulders and underneath his leather jacket. as you slowly worked his jacket off of him, eyes watching every inch of skin slowly being revealed to you. his muscles flexed underneath his t-shirt as he shrugged his jacket off and threw it somewhere into the front of the car. 

he then pulled his t-shirt over his head in a quick and rushed manner, throwing it along with the rest of his clothes. he’s grown more muscle and definitely bulked up since you’d last seen him. he’s always been so perfect. his body was nice and toned, decorated with firm and chiseled muscle. he was like a marble statue, the ones in the museum with gorgeous proportions and sharp features. 

how can he be so perfect?

he leaned back over you, and rather than your lips in less of a rush of lust, he kissed you slowly and passionately. the feeling of your sensitive nipples brushing up against his warm chest made you shake and let out a small whine. 

his hand traveled up your side again, taking your breast into his palm, and squeezing your nipple between his index and middle finger. you shuddered, a small moan leaving your lips as his other hand traveled down to the button of your jeans. 

he worked his way around the hem of your jeans to take off both your jeans and your panties at the same time. you reached down for his belt, struggling to unbuckle it whilst also struggling to shimmy your pants off of your hips. 

the windows of the car were beginning to fog up, you could barely see the outside, any light shining through was only a smudged blur. it was getting harder to breathe and much harder to think. as you kicked your jeans off, you were quick to help push off his. 

you both were as loud as you wanted, the sound of moans mixed with wet kisses and heaving breaths. 

“i need you, i need you,” you panted out like a prayer. 

he kissed down your chest, bringing your nipple into his mouth while his hand soothed the inside of your legs — sticky with sweat and arousal. you keened under his touch, your thighs shaking and your clit aching. 

you clenched around nothing, desperate for his touch. in your mind, you were counting down the seconds until he touched you. counting each inch that his fingers traced up your thigh. it was when his fingers slotted between your damp folds you broke. 

a desperate sob left your lips and your hips bucked. he moaned into your skin, pulling away from your nipple with a pop. “so wet, all for me,” he breathed out, pressing a small kiss to your breast.

his fingers prodded at your hole, collecting the arousal that dripped when you clenched around nothing. he could tell you were so eagerly waiting for him. eyes gleaming down at him and watching his every move. 

his thumb found your clit and he applied the right amount of pressure that had you arching your back with a small wail. the leather of the seats were hot, there was condensations dripping down the windows and it smelt heavy of sex and his cologne. 

“tell me, tell me what you need, baby,” he heaved out against your cheek. 

“i need you, i want … you,” you replied, out of breath and strength. with that, his inserted one of his fingers, the small stretch was enough to have your jaw hanging open and your legs quivering out of control. nothing and no one has ever had this much of an effect on you, not even fear. 

but Leon, he could make you weak with a simple glance. 

as you clenched around his finger, Leon found it hard to breathe. you were so warm and dripping all over his palm, he could smell your sex everywhere in the car, it was sweet and god it was good. he screwed his eyes shut, trying to contain his composure but you were driving him wild. 

each moan that spilled your lips with every stroke of his finger, he was teetering on the edge of sanity. 

he inserted another finger, slowly and carefully. he didn’t want to hurt you, but watching as your eyebrows curled upwards and your head tilt back, he knew he was doing everything but hurting you. 

a deep moan spilled from your tongue as he curled his fingers up into your gummy walls. at the same time, his thumb pressed circled against your clit. 

“oh god, please-“ 

“calling on god in a situation like this is pretty sinful of you, baby,” he snickered. you wanted to slap him across the face for such a comment but you could barely process his words, your mind was too focused on the pleasure he was giving you and drooling at the thought of his cock. 

he could feel you pulsing around him whilst dripping with need. each curl of his fingers earned him a thristy moan and a squelch. he kissed down your neck, in between the navel of your breasts, and down you stomach. until he reached you abdomen. 

he sucked at your skin, hoping to leave a mark where it wasn’t too noticeable. the pressure on your abdomen along with the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you caused your legs to clamp around him. 

“fuck!” you whined out, carding your fingers through his hair. one of his hands traveled up underneath your thighs, bringing them to rest on his shoulders. your chest rose up and down with excitement, your heart thrumming up against the cage of your ribcage and sweat trickling down your face. 

you took a moment to admire him, kissing at your abdomen while his fingers circled at your swollen clit. he was so pretty. his blue eyes seemed to glow, even if it was dark. the moonlight shining through the foggy windows highlighted the messy strands of his hair and made out every feature of his face. 

his jaw, his straight nose and his hooded eyes. he was beautiful, in between your thighs, standing in the sunlight, standing in the moonlight, asleep or awake, he was just beautiful. 

his lips traveled up between your thighs, kissing at the fat and nipping at your skin. you jumped at the feeling off his teeth but still you loved it. his tongue ran along the small bite mark before he created another. 

“mmm Leon,” 

“shhh,” he soothed, nudging his nose into your plump skin. 

he removed his fingers from your aching cunt with a small pop and before you could whine in protest, he tapped the side of your thigh because he knew that you were going to whine.

once you shut up, he smirked against your inner thigh and brought up his slicked fingers up to your mouth. you opened your mouth and allowed him to place his fingers onto your tongue. 

you swirled your tongue around his digits before sucking your slick off of them. he groaned at the sight of you sucking his fingers, eyelashes batting down at him and face glimmering with sweat. 

“so dirty,” he smiled, blowing air onto your clit. you shivered at the sensation. 

he kissed down your thigh until his tongue found your clit, flicking at the bud with the tip of his tongue all while looking in your eyes to watch your reaction. you moaned around his fingers, lifting your hips — eager for more. 

“patience, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your clit while taking his fingers out from your mouth with a pop. 

he slowly crawled over you, leaving kisses in his path. he finally reached your chin, placing a kiss there and then to your lips. he sucked in a deep breath through his nose, letting his hand run down your side until he guided your thigh back around his torso. 

he stroked himself a few times, groaning against your lips. when his tip nudged your clit, you opened your mouth with a moan, allowing him to stroke his tongue along yours. 

“tell me if it hurts,” he whispered to you, you gave him a reassuring nod and he shook his head. 

“i need your word-“

“yes, yes! i���ll tell you,” 

he slowly sank into you, watching your facial expressions keenly. you were overtaken with pleasure, your jaw hanging open at the painful stretch but also a moan boiling in your throat from your ache being relieved. 

he reached up for the car window behind you, looking for some grip. he left a hand print on the foggy window as his fingers trailed down to the handle. a groan left his lips and he buried his face into your neck, “fuck, so tight.” 

your gummy walls were pulsing around him, making it hard for him to breathe. you were so wet and so warm, making it easy for him to thrust in without any problem. Leon felt like a teenage boy all over again, ready to burst within seconds. 

his swollen tip pressed against your cervix and a whine left your lips. your toes curled and you struggled to suck in a breath, “so good,” you managed to squeak out, clawing at his back to leave scars. 

he slowly rocked his hips into you, grunting at each small thrust. you wrapped your legs around him, begging him to go deeper even if it hurt. one hand stayed on his back while the other ran up the nape of his neck and into his hair. 

“god, you’ve always taken my cock so well,” he whispered out into your ear, with that he began thrusting into you, causing your body to jolt and bounce with every connection of your hips. they were so and deep thrusts. 

he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock and he wanted to watch your face contort as his tip hit your g-spot every time. 

you arched your back into a moan and he took this chance to wrap his arms underneath you. he wanted to keep you pressed to him, he wanted to feel you because he knew this would be the last time. he knew you’d both regret your actions once the passion has died down but he wanted to live in the moment. he didn’t want to think of consenquences after this. 

he just needed to feel you one last time. 

“faster,” you begged, kissing the lobe of his ear. chills ran down his spine at the feeling of your hot breath and your dragged out words. he obeyed without question, pounding into you at a pace that has you sobbing. the car shook underneath you guys and both of you were sure any hikers could hear and guess what was going on inside his tinted jeep. 

“this pussy’s so good, fuck,” he seethed through his teeth, opening his mouth to bite down onto your collarbone. 

“mm fuck,” you whined out, tossing your head back and clenching your legs around him tighter. you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, with every thrust there was a wave sent through you. you could feel him in your bones. the tension was only getting tighter, your limbs were on fire but you liked the burn. 

you tugged him away from sucking at your breats and your chest, guiding his lips to yours in a rushed manor. you wanted to taste him. his teeth clashes against yours but it wasn’t long until you both found a rhythm. 

he moaned into your mouth, ignoring the ache in his chest from the amount of air. you were his air. he could breathe when he was around you, he felt light. you were his fix. you were his drug. you were his lifeline. 

you controlled whether his heart beat or stop. you controlled whether he was happy or sad. you controlled his mind, body, and soul. you had complete control over him and you just didn’t know it. 

you parted from his lips, a string of saliva snapping back onto your chin. “it’s too much,” you sobbed. you watched the inner corner of his lips twitch, almost as if he was about to smile. he brought your legs up over his shoulder, positioning you the way he wanted that way he cold fuck into you deeper. 

this new angle was enough to put you on the egde, a tear slipped past your eyes and your pupils had rolled back into your skull. 

“you can take it,” he heaved out, as he continued to piston into you. your brain was mush, you couldn’t speak or reply back to him. the only thing on your mind was the feeling of his cock stretching your walls and the sound of his voice. 

“Leon,” you stammered out. you were clenching around him tightly, your legs shaking and your moans spilling out nonstop. he knew you were close, he could tell from the look on your face. completely fucked out of your mind, not a single thought processing.

“my beautiful girl,” he reached down for your clit, “come for me,” 

he kissed another tear slipping down into your hairline as you whined beneath him. your breath was caught in your throat and you could see stars waltzing behind your eyes, you gushed around his cock while moaning out his name. 

he gripped the leather by your head, every taut muscle in his body relaxing as he spilled his hot seed into you. he pressed his tip deep to your cervix, hoping you’d feel every hot rope he gave you. he kissed at your cheeks slowly, slowly rolling his hips into you as you both came down from your highs. 

he was buried in the crook of your neck, heaving out deep breaths and in between them he said, “i love you.” 

your heart sunk. you could physically feel it. your blood ran cold and there was a pain in your chest. 

“i, i have to go,” you could feel his eyebrows scrunch against your shoulder as you sat up from underneath him. you hurriedly reached for your clothes as your sinuses began to sting and tears welled up in your eyes. you were so so stupid. 

how could you have done this? how could you sleep with another man when your wedding is in mere months? not just any man, but your ex. 

you struggled to slide on your panties, you skin still sticky with sweat and cum. 

Leon let his head drop as he listened to you struggle and cry. he reached out for you, “honey, wait-“

“no!” you smacked him away, turning to face towards him with tears in your eyes. “i’m sorry, we should’ve never done this, i’m so sorry,” you broke down and before you knew it he was scooping you back into his arms. 

you wanted to push him away but you had no strength, physically and mentally. “i should’ve never came here and-“

“shhh,” he soothed the back of your head, coaxing you into laying your head onto his shoulder. 

“it’s my fault for still-” you paused suddenly. Leons breath hitched and his body went still. 

“still what?”

“i’m sorry, Leon.”

you pulled away from him, refusing to look him in the eyes. it hurt too much to face him. he doesn’t know how much power he has over you. you couldn’t hide secrets or say no. you couldn’t lie to him. it breaks you to lie to him.

it hurts that you still love him so much.

you reached for your sweater in the passenger seat and throwing it on. 

“answer me,” his voice cracked and with that your heart shattered. you couldn’t turn around and see him crying. you just can’t. the hem of the sweatshirt sat on your tits as you put on your jeans. your throat was aching and you were trying not to cry. you felt like a child.  

“do you still love me?” he reached for your hand, stopping you from reaching for the door. you turned to face him, your eyes now puffy with tears and your lip trembling. you tried so hard not to let the tears fall but it was too late. he watched as you swallowed back a cry and let your hand fall from his. 

“goodbye, Leon.” 

those were the same words you spoke to him when your relationship ended years ago. it was like slow motion, his brain was catching the final moments of you. it was so odd seeing your back profile, even if he’s seen it so many times, it was odd to see it when you were leaving him. 

you left Leon there in your once shared apartment. 

now you leave him in a foggy car that smells just like you. 

as the door opened, he was hit with the fresh night air, cooling the sweat on his body. the smell of fresh pine hit him along with the smell of your perfume. there were sounds of croaking frogs, trees dancing in the wind, crickets, and your choked back sobs. 

then the car door shut. there was silence all around him. he was stuck watching your foggy figure fade away, watching you get into your car and drive off without looking back at him once. he remained frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 

all he could do was let a single tears run down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. he leaned back into his own car seat, looking up at the roof with a heavy sigh. 

here comes the storm, once again. 

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

tags : @xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk @childchomper1 @porcelainseashore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00 @puppyina @prettyntxhee

notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)

taglist

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #death island leon #leon kennedy re2 #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy angst

[panlight]

The discussions around Bella's choice to become a vampire are always so interesting to me, as it's usually centered around how she should have the agency to live and choose the life she wants for herself and like, of course.

But . . . the life she is choosing is vampirism. It's not about whether she's going to college or not, getting married or not, having children or not. She's actively choosing to become a supernatural creature whose intended prey is human beings. Sure, she ends up being instantly amazing at NOT killing people, but she had no way to know that. Statistically, the odds were not in her favor. This choice she is making was potentially putting humans at risk for eternity. That, to my mind, removes it from being a morally neutral decision about living the best life for herself.

Even the narrative itself doesn't give a whole lot of weight to the morality/ethics of making this choice. It's much more about the things Bella will give up (most of which she doesn't even end up having to give up, although she didn't know that), and a little about how upset it would make Charlie for her to disappear. Bella approaches the idea that she might kill people with humor, ("I guess I could throw in a few extra homicides, if it makes Jasper happy. Why not?" and "does this screw my total?") which could very well be a coping mechanism. But you never really feel the WEIGHT of it; it's like since SM knew Bella was going to be a perfect vampire it wasn't really worth wringing one's hands about. Even Edward is more worried about Bella's soul and whether she will be unhappy as a vampire like Rosalie, and not like, "what if you become a ravenous killing machine?" And maybe it wouldn't matter that much if Bella were presented as something other than this uncommonly selfless and Good person, but since she is, you'd think "oh God what if I accidentally murder Charlie or Mike or Jessica?" would keep her up at night. But she just trusts that Edward/the Cullens will stop her from eating people and that's kind of the end of it.

And AGAIN, yes I know it's really a romance and it was telegraphed pretty strongly that Bella wasn't going to become a people-eating menace and this is no doubt just me coming at everything from the Vampire Story angle again but, IDK. Always feels weird to me when potential future murders aren't a factor when discussing Bella's choices, that it's just treated as choosing any other life path. Then again, her romance with Edward has a body count even before she becomes a vampire, so what's a few more?

[makethemhoesmad]

loml

no comment

—

“i love you, i love you, you’re the fucking love of my life baby, you’re perfect, wanna be with you forever,” paige says to me, kissing my neck while we lay naked in her bed. she never really says this stuff, only after we’ve fucked and she’s itching to go another round. i always cave. “mhmmm, paigey, i love you, please touch me,” she touches me, does what i want, then holds me close to her naked body and falls asleep, mumbling how she’ll never leave. I fall asleep, because she’s a warm body and i love her. she’s the love of my life.

I jolt up from a dream. a dream of a baby with two moms, one blond and one with my face. it wasn’t real, it never is, but after dreams like this it makes me hurt on the inside. i turn over to muffle the silent sniffs that always come from the empty feeling dreams like this leave behind. the body next to me moves, and a cool hand comes up to brush my cheek.

“baby.”

“paige.”

“what’s wrong? did i do something? can i help?”

i sniff, then curl against her, expressing, “i need a baby.”

she looks at me for a moment, perplexed, then kisses my forehead.

“you’re so tired darling, go back to bed”

hm.

paige gets back from practice at normal time, but she isn’t acting as normal as she usually does. normally she’s excitable and tells me all about the shots she made, the plays she set, everything. today she’s just here. my phone lights up, with a text from ashlynn shade of all people. i rarely talk to her. i go to the bathroom to open it, because maybe paige shouldn’t read it.

i read the first message and sink to the floor, back pressed to the wall.

ash shade

hey. i think you should know that paige keeps saying…things about you. 

what kind of things???

ash shade

well, she talks about how you’re always going on about wanting to settle down, get married, have kids. and she said that “you’re the love of her life. she just doesn’t want that. not now, not ever”

paige gets over her mood later, and we do our usual dance around the obvious issues. she pretends not to notice my faked enthusiasm, and i pretend not to notice the fact that she never once tells me i’m the love of her life. when she falls asleep, i don’t. i wonder when she’ll break up with me. it has to happen soon, there’s no chance it won’t. i’m taken back to the first conversation we had, where she told me that if sex with me was half as good as talking to me was, then soon enough we’d be pushing strollers. but i guess that’s over.

“cmon bro, don’t fucking be like that,” paige taunts me, rolling her eyes at my words.

“don’t you dare bro me, paige. i have a right to be fucking mad, you’re shit talking me to your teammates then coming home and banging me like i’m some one night stand! how about you stop being like this,” i scoff, spitting venom at her words.

“well bro, if you need to know because you’re so insecure that you can’t stand someone saying anything about you, the team asked how we were doing and i told them we wanted different things. fair enough.”

“if we want different things, there’s no point in staying together when we both know where this is going to end.”

“Fine. fuck you and fuck your rings and your cradles.”

“Fuck you,” i say, finalizing what had been brewing since we turned on the fire.

paige leaves, slamming the door and shouting profanities. i lock the door, turn around, and stand in our my bedroom. her hoodie is on the floor. her hoodie is in my arms. she’s the loss of my life.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #angst #haha

[mrchiipchrome]

Character Introductions

(yes, I know I should've done this before the first part was posted but I didn't so y'all get it now)

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

Nika Mühl as herself

Height: 5’11

Age: 20

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#10), Croatia (#10)

Nicknames: Mühl, Love, Secretary Of Defense, Pookie (only by Paige)

Nationality: Croatian

Instagram: nika.muhl

Alt: nikalovesbball

“I don’t like her like that, we’re just friends, nothing more.”

“I don’t know what I want yet, but I do know that I want it with you. Not someone like you, it’s you that I want.”

“You know, I was always a Chelsea fan.”

You as Yourself (shhh, just imagine.)

Height: Tall as fuck

Age: 18

School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#10), England WNT (#10/2+8)

Nicknames: Grumpy, Kid/Kiddo, Troll Child (Leah), Baby, Tiny (only by Paige), Captain

Nationality: English

Instagram: y/n.y/l/n

Alt: norflondonforever

“North London forever, whatever the weather, these streets are our own.”

“I want a beach house in Barcelona, with the most amazing view of the water. And maybe a dog, or a cat. And I want to run a small surf shop at the corner of the beach, hidden away from everything. That’s what my legacy will be, just you me and our beach house in Barca.”

“Sorry coach, I gotta go see ‘bout a girl.”

Gabbi Broussard as Emma 'Em' Whitmore

Height: 5’9

Age: 20

School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#18), USWNT (#28)

Nicknames: Em, Emily, Emma Hayes (only by you to annoy her), Ugly 

Nationality: American/Canadian

Instagram: emwhit18

Alt: thebetterwhitmore

“Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from Flushed Away.”

“I think you need to stop thinking about what everyone else wants and start thinking about what you want. This situation, it’s not your fault that you caught feelings, but it is your fault that you’re pushing her away, so man the fuck up and do the right thing.”

“Will you stop singing that already?”

Callum Turner as Callum 'Cal' Whitmore

Height: 6’4

Age: 23

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Men’s Basketball Team(#26), US Men’s Basketball(#22)

Nicknames: Cal, Gollum, The Rat from Flushed Away

Nationality: American/Canadian

Instagram: callumwhitmore

Alt: nottheratfromflushedaway

“I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.”

“Em, dad called, he said shut up.”

“Watching you trying to flirt is the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”

Robert Sean Leonard as Coach 'Dad' Daniels

Height: 6’0

Age: 66

School/Team: Head Coach of Harvard Women’s Soccer Team

Nicknames: Coach, Dad, Coach Dad, Pops, Ancient Being

Nationality: American

Instagram: headcoachdaniels

Alt: doesn’t have one, he’s too much of an old fart

“It’s called intermittent fasting, look it up, you should try it sometime.”

“No, for the last time, me and Coach Hansen aren’t secretly married with two dogs, you all need less free time to come up with theories like that, this isn’t dead poet’s society. Extra training sessions the whole week out.”

“Are those hickeys? Okay ladies, when you want to have sex make sure to cover up the evidence after, I do not need to know more about your intimate lives than I already do.”

Ethan Hawke as Coach Hansen

Height: 5’11

Age: 62

School/team: Harvard Men’s Soccer Team Head Coach

Nicknames: Coach Daniels’ Husband, Dad #2, Mr. Sir

Nationality: American/British

Instagram: headcoachhansen

Alt: an old fart like his husband, so no alt for him

“So you kids thought you’d get a different answer from me than from Coach Daniels? Why are you kids so incessant on trying to find out if we’re together or not.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I kissed Coach Daniels last night. It was like something straight out of a movie, something so poetic about it.”

“This is Buddy, me and Coach Daniels adopted him so that he could be our mascot. No other reason.”

Paige Bueckers as herself

Height: 6’0

Age: 20

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#5), USA Women’s Basketball Team (#5)

Nicknames: PBuckets, PB&J, The Third Jonas Brother

Nationality: American

Instagram: paigebueckers

Alt: p5buckets

“I’ll beat you on Fifa all day every day.”

“God Nika, admit it, you like her. I can see it from a mile away and this thing you’re doing, this back and forth, will they won’t they, is going to hurt you both in the end. All I’m suggesting is that you evaluate what you want from this relationship and then take it from there.”

“I’m always right, it’s scientifically impossible for me to be wrong.”

Leah Williamson as herself

Height: 5’7

Age: 25

School/Team: Arsenal Women’s Team (#6), England WNT (#6/8/5)

Nicknames: Lee, Will, Spurs Nr 1 Fan, Oldie, Capi

Nationality: English

Instagram: leahwilliamsonn

Alt: will.i.am.son

“I’M NOT A SPURS FAN, STOP SAYING THAT.”

“Y’know in all the time I’ve known you kid, I’ve never seen you this enamoured with someone, you’re so in love it’s making me sick.”

“You’re like the little sister I never had.”

Lucy Bronze as herself

Height: 5’7

Age: 30

School/Team: FC Barcelona Femení (#15), England WNT (#2)

Nicknames: Lucia, Robert, Luce, Prehistoric Being, Dad

Nationality: English/Portuguese

Instagram: lucybronze

Alt: bronzesilvergold

“Ugh, the ladies just love me don’t they.”

“I’m down with the lingo, I’ve got so much rizz that the boomers come running. Cowabunga.”

“Love is…love is effortless, it makes you feel all jittery and when you’re around them you feel like you can do anything. You’ll know it once you feel it kid, don’t try to rush the process, let it wash over you like the waves at the beach.”

Everyone else as themselves, also the other's alt instagrams will explained when they appear

#woso #woso x reader #lionesses #arsenal wfc #woso imagines #wbb x reader #uconn wbb #nika muhl #nika muhl x reader #10/10 series #harvard women's soccer team

[amoremainslayer]

HELLO ITS KUNI!!(my phones glitching i cant get off of anon help) BUT ANYWAYS IMAGINE JEALOUS FIANCÉ RICKY BEING SO ROUGH WITH READER BC SHE GOT MAD AT RK AND WENT OUT TO FLIRT W OTHER MEN (to make him jealous ofc) AND IT TURNS INTO HOT ROUGH SeX😻 (could be in a car btw im so down bad for him id let him hit it anywhere)

The ring on your finger

Pairing : Shen ricky x Fem reader

Genre : Smut, slight angst.

Warnings : nsfw under the cut, barely any plot, degration, no protection, oral (both receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, edging, mean+jealous ricky, hanbin is lowkey readers side peace.

A/n : Girl you got me going crazy with this prompt🤭🤭

Your lips nearly touched his ear as you whispered soft nothings into his ear. Your hands stroked along the expensive fabric of his suit until they reached his hands.

"Oh no, I'm single" You spoke humbly, looking at the man infront of you who called himself Hanbin. His charming smile left goosebumps spreading over your skin. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help yourself.

Your fiancé, Ricky, had enraged you again. He had decided to let one of the most sought-after woman in China flirt with him, knowing damn well how possessive you could get for him. Maybe he wanted to play with you, or maybe he just loved seeing you angry. But he didn't expect you'd ignore him so easily before walking away from the gathering.

"You're wearing such a beautiful ring, I thought you were married" Hanbin spoke gently, one of his hands resting on your waist. You chuckled, looking at your engagement ring "Ofcourse not" You smiled, pulling the ring off your ringfinger before putting it onto your index finger "I just get weak for pretty and expensive things" You tilted your head, flashing him a sheepish smile.

Hanbin chuckled, lifting his hand up to brush a strand of hair out off your face "Maybe we should move this conversation into a restaurant with some champagne?" He asked, his eyes having a sly glint.

You were about to agree, ready to get yourself spoiled by some rich Korean business man not until you felt slender fingers gripping around your wrist strongly.

You winced slightly, looking up only to be met with Ricky's dark eyes. You felt him pulling you with him but you held onto hanbin who had a confused look on his face "Who's this?" Hanbin asked, hand gripping onto your other arm while gazing to ricky.

You were about to answer until ricky interuppted you "Her fiancé" He said, pulling your engagement ring off your index finger posessively before placing it onto your ring finger.

You let out a helpless yelp as Ricky began pulling you out of the bar down the street up to his car. The silence was thick as Ricky opened the door before throwing you into the backseat "Ricky I-" You stuttered, watching him lean down to give you a dark glare.

"Had fun flirting with that bastard?" Ricky's deep voice echoed through your ears. You scoffed slightly, crossing your arms "Had fun flirting with that slut" You mocked him, mentioning the past incident that was the reason you flirted with Hanbin.

Ricky raised an eyebrow, climbing into the car before closing the door. He hovered you, his manly scent engulfing your nostrils. If this situation wasn't about who's pride was higher, you would've folded easily.

But you were a brat, ego a little too high to give up so easily "You really have no shame don't you?" He said mockingly, his hand stroking along your exposed neck.

"He was fucking you with his eyes" Ricky spoke, his voice hoarse in anger and lust. You gulped, hands fiddling with the fabric of your, slightly too short, skirt.

Ricky's eyes traveled over your body before finally gazing into yours "And you even put off the ring" His voice was a mere growl, possessiveness glowing in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry I.." You stuttered but ended up biting your lip. No words would be enough to apoligize for putting off the ring. It was something no one had ever done, even if the two of you tried to make eachother jealous or get revenge.

In just a few seconds ricky was leaning down, kissing and biting your neck which left you gasping softly. Your hands wandered to his shoulders, longing to feel his skin against yours, but he just took your wrists before holding them above your head.

"Gonna show you who you belong to" He murmured, his tongue sliding around the skin of your neck. Soft whimpers escaped your lips, eyes closing as you enjoyed his touch.

Your wrists were trapped between his left hand while his other hand was busy holding your waist and hips. His hand wandered up, intending to grope your breasts but the corset you were wearing made it nearly impossible to do so.

He began undoing the laces in the back before getting too impatient and just ripping them open, throwing the corset to the front seats.

A soft yelp left your lips as your sensitive breasts made contact with the air. His tongue swirled around your nipples, leaving you arching your back beneath his touch.

His other hand began pinching your nipples, pushing into pure ecstasy. You pressed your thighs together, feeling your walls wetten.

"Could Hanbin to touch you like this?" Ricky's asked mockingly, biting your nipples which left you moaning loudly. "Only I can taste you like this" he growled.

His mouth wandered deeper and deeper while his hand pulled down your skirt, revealing your black lace panties "Only I can make you this wet" he whispered, his slender finger running down your clothes cunt.

You moaned loudly, spreading your legs even further as you gave ricky a desperate look "Please quanrui I... I can't wait any longer" you whined, eliciting a grin onto Ricky's lips at the mention of his birth name.

Without any further teasing ricky pulled down your panties, licking a long stripe along your walls. You arched your back, his tongue against your cunt left you seeing stars.

He began eating you like a starving animal, his tongue flicking your clit while his fingers began thrusting into you. Your were bucking your hips against his mouth wildly. Your hands gripping onto his hair, urging him do dive even deeper.

You felt your climax coming closer to you each second, your whines and moans increasing in volume. Just as you felt yourself being close ricky pulled away, his lips and chin soaked in your juices while giving you a mocking grin.

"You thought you could cum?" He spoke after a scoff, rolling his eyes. You whined even louder, legs trembling in anticipation "rui please.." You cried out as tears of frustration build in the corner of your eyes.

"You're so pathetic" he mumbled, tongue gracing over your stomach up to your breasts. You let out another whine, arching your back into his touch.

You could hear his hand opening the zipper of his expensive pants, pulling them down together with his boxers. His lengthy erection slapped against your stomach.

He grabbed a fist of your hair before pulling you onto his cock, your tongue desperately swirling around his length "fuck.." He groaned, his eyes semi opened while he stared down onto you.

You began slightly gagging as his tip touched the back of your throat with each thrust, but ricky didn't care. He wanted to make you regret ever even looking at other men.

Saliva ran down your chin as you continued deepthroating Ricky, his veins prominent on your tongue. You could feel his thrusts increase in pace, his breaths and grunts becoming louder with each second.

"Gonna gulp it all, got it?" He spoke dominantly, making you nodd on his cock. Mere seconds later his climax finally washed over Ricky, his semen flowing int your mouth effortlessly as his cock twitched in pleasure.

Ricky bit his lip at the sight of your swollen lips and red cheeks. He pulled his cock out of your mouth, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip "Do you think you deserve a reward for taking me so good?" He asked in amusement, raising an eyebrow as you nodded desperately.

"P-please I've been so well i-" You began sobbing out of frustration, the build up pleasure and broken ego left you even more desperate than usual. Ricky cooed sarcastically, wiping away your tears "shhh baby don't worry, I'm gonna make sure you feel good" He grinned sarcastically.

You nodded gently, slowly calming down. Ricky sat down, his back leaning against the car seat as he tapped his lap "sit." He demanded to which you obediently followed.

Your entrance was dangerously close to his throbbing cock, tip pink from his previous climax. Ricky's hands landed on your hips as you slowly sank down on his cock, a loud moan escaping your lips as Ricky let his head fall back.

No matter how mad he was, the way your cunt takes him so well just leaves him weak every time. "Move" he grunted which lead you to slowly move up and down his length.

The car was filled with your moans and grunts, the sound of your skin slapping together echoing through each corner. Ricky began picking up his space, thrusting up into your walls while letting out low moans.

"Taking me so well huh? Could hanbin do you like I do?" He murmured into your ear. You whined, shaking your head eagerly while moving in the same rythm as him.

"Use your words baby" He groaned, hitting your cervix with each thrust. You whimpered "No he c-couldnt" you breathed out, earning a satisfied grin from ricky.

You cried out in pleasure as you felt yourself nearing your climax "Ricky i-i'm close" you gasped, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

He hummed softly, eyes semi opened "wait for me baby, you can do that right?" He spoke smoothly and you nodded eagerly, trying your best in holding back your orgasm.

Ricky continued thrusting into you until a deep groan erupted from his throat, his semen spurting into you while coating your walls in white. You let out a high moan, you cunt clenching around his cock as your thighs trembled in pleasure.

You hid your face in his neck while panting heavily. Ricky draped his arms around you, pulling you close to him "Let's not make eachother jealous anymore, okay love?" He whispered into your ear to which you just nodded.

"I love you" You whispered, pressing a gentle kiss onto his jaw. He gave you a warm smile, kissing your forehead "I love you too baby"

#amoremainslayer #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 hard hours #zb1 imagines #zb1 smut #shen ricky #zb1 ricky #ricky x reader #ricky smut

[tac-the-unseen]

Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Will Graham Headcannons

Fluff, Minor edits for formatting!

Involves: Cooking, sleeping, art, tattoos, piercings, dates, funny little ideas

•While Hannibal is mostly the one cooking when you, him, and will are in a kitchen together it get a bit chaotic.

•You're decent at cooking but Will is a hot mess compared to you and Hannibal (that doesn't mean he's a bad cook, just not as good as you guys are). But you and Hannibal have no problem guiding and teaching him. It's a great bonding experience for all of you.

•When Hannibal talks in the kitchen you and Will call him 'chef'. Hannibal loves it but will never admit to it.

•All of you share a bed but you also have separate bed in another room that is used when one of you really needs your sleep or space. None of you talk about but it has really saved your relationship...multiple times.

•Hannibal mostly uses it when he has an important event coming up and needs to get a full night's rest.

•Will mostly uses it when he feels like the world is caving in on him and needs to get away.

•You mostly use it when you're mad that them or need to work a late shift.

•Hannibal loves taking you and Will to museums and art galleries. He loves digging through the layers of the art to get to its over all meanings.

•Everyone knows Hannibal likes to play the 'sugar daddy' role but he appreciates when you or Will try and contribute with the costs.

•Will isn't a fan of pet names. He thinks it's weird and kind of degrading, but if you or Hannibal use one or two, he won't complain. Especially if it's to comfort him during an episode.

•That being said if you call him William he immediately thinks he's in trouble for something. If he's not in trouble he will pout about you using his full name.

•On the other hand Hannibal loves pet/nick names. If you call him darling or love he will internally swoon.

•Will doesn't like to be touched and you and Hannibal are not expections. He can deal with touch but he's not happy about it. If you touch him while he's having a break down he with scream, shout, and cry.

•You can get away with cuddling at night but just barely. Be careful about your hand placement.

•If Will is losing an argument he'll say 'nah huh' and Hannibal without a beat will say 'yeah huh' right back.

•You and Will have woken up after a nap to find Hannibal sketching you several times. If he finds either of you asleep he'll run to get his sketch book and maybe some tea and gets to work.

•Hannibal is 10,000% a bridezilla. If you could get married he would be a nightmare to deal with. He might call off the whole wedding if he doesn't get the flowers he wants. And the catering, dear god the catering. He got so upset he thought about just making the food himself...day of...

•If Hannibal ever gets sick he feel guilty because he feels like he should be the one taking care of you two, not that other way around.

•If you have tattoos or piercings Hannibal will just and stare that them. He wants to mesmerize every piece of you. In his spare time he finds him self drawing up concept art for more future tattoos. He doesn't show you any of them,but if you find one and end up getting it tattooed on you he might just have a heart attack.

•Very Interested in the tattoos/piercings healing process. Like he knows but he just likes to watch.

•Will likes to trace said tattoos and even considers getting a matching one with you!

•If Hannibal spots you and/or will getting overwhelmed overstimulated in public he hold your hand and whisper affirmations to you two.

Thanks for reading <3

#hannibal lecter #will graham #gn reader #hannigram #hannibal x reader #will graham x reader #Hannibal x reader x will #hannibal #nbc hannibal #slashers #boyfriends

[rebelliousstories]

Speak Now

Relationship: Norm McLean x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @fallout-girl219

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 1,250

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: On what is supposed to be the happiest day of her life, she cannot help but feel Norm is hiding something.

“Oh, I just love a wedding. Well we haven’t had one in a while but still.” Lucy gushed as she helped get her friend ready for her special day. Her hair was being pulled every which direction, while Stephanie tidied up her nails.

“How are you feeling?” The blonde at her hands asked, looking up briefly. The woman in the chair took a deep breath, and blew it out hard while she thought.

“Okay. Nervous, I guess.” She stated. Stephanie, having just gotten married recently, was still in her honeymoon phase and reminiscing.

“I get what you’re feeling. But once you see him in front of you, you’ll know. That’s the one. Like Bert,” her eyes held little clouds in them, “I just knew he was the one for me when we were set up.” Lucy looked towards her friend like she was eagerly taking in the story, but the same could not be said for the woman in the chair.

“I don’t know. Just… the idea though. Of marrying a complete stranger that I’ll meet at the vault exchange. It doesn’t feel right.” She lamented, expressing her concern with the practice.

“You’ll change really quick when you see him. Why I just knew that Bert was going to be the best man for me the second I saw him.” Stephanie said softly once more. They quieted their chatter as the two women began to work on the bride-to-be’s makeup. All the while, she sat there, running through every possibility.

Nothing her mind came up with helped her current predicament. A figure passed by the window into her room, that stopped just for a second to long. It was Norm. Her neighbor and life-long friend, even if he was a bit peculiar. Their eyes locked and she swore that she could see an upset look in his eyes. That was, until, it was broken off by Lucy standing in front of the bride to apply her lipstick.

She had no idea why Norm would be upset over her getting married, even to a stranger. They were just friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. Although, she had tried to get him to notice her. Taking up a new hobby to show him, only to be met with a disinterested stare while she spoke about it. Styling her hair a different way just to have him ask if she was feeling alright. Trying to find out his hobbies and having him wonder what she was doing there.

But to no avail. There was nothing to suggest that he thought about her in any other fashion than that of a friend. And even that was a maybe, if he even considered her one. She sure considered him a friend of hers. By the time she could see through the window again, Norm was gone. Her heart hurt a little bit. She should be happy. Not pinning after her friend. How could she be happy though? She was not excited to be marrying a stranger from Vault 32. That was not what she wanted. But she had to. For the good of society.

As the two women finished up their beautification of the bride in the chair, she was presented with a mirror. She had to admit; they did an amazing job. Presented with a white dress, she took the offered pen and hesitantly signed her name with the date on the inside panel. Getting dressed, her heart was speeding up considerably. Her nerves were getting the better of her. The walk down to Vault 32 was terrifying. Faces passed and all she wanted to do was scream and run. Her mother and father greeted her as she made it to the spot in front of the door to Vault 32.

“How are you feeling, honey?” Her mother asked, voice airy and sweet.

“Fine.” She replied. Her voice was cut short as a lump formed in her throat. The vault door seemed larger and more daunting now as they stood in front of it. A crowd of people came around the door to watch the exchange happen. Amongst those people, she scanned for one person, who stood at the back of the room. Norm was there. It made her feel better to have him there, but not as good as she should have been.

Hank MacLean came up to her and held her hand while pulling her towards the door. Even she could feel the sweat beading up on her, and her heart beating out of her chest. Before the door could be open though, a voice shouted above the commotion.

“Wait!” Norm pushed his way to the front of the crowd. “Wait, wait, wait.”

“What are you doing, son?” Hank whispered, about to scold him.

“She can’t get married to someone else.” He stated, looking towards the woman in a wedding dress, standing before the vault door.

“What are you talking about, Norm?” His father, once again, tried to keep a lid on the situation.

“Because I won’t allow you to marry her off. We can trade something else, but I will not have her marrying anyone else. There’s no direct bloodline between us, which means that our children won’t be directly related to anyone except our direct relatives in this community.” He finished his speech, and finally took another breath. Norm looked at his father, his friend, and back to his father. She looked relieved, and a little scared.

“You wish to marry her? Right now?” Hank pressed, waiting to see how this is going to play out.

“Yes. I’ll do it right now.” Norm stood up straighter, looking usually sure of himself as he faced the situation with conviction.

“Alright then. We’ll inform Overseer Jackson we no longer need a match. We’ll find something else of value to trade. I’ll go inform him.” Hank let go of her hand and waked out with his council. Her parents walked out as well, still confused as to what was happening. Soon, it was just the two kids who were looking down at their shoes.

“So… what was that all about?” She questioned, peeking her head out from her lashes.

“I just didn’t want you marrying someone who you didn’t know. I figured you would be more comfortable with someone you know.” Norm murmured.

“Is that all?” Once again, she pressed her friend for answers.

“Well-” he started, “maybe. Not really. I just, just…”

“Norm?” A call made his head peak up. She stepped closer and closer until they were toe to toe, and chest to chest.

“Yes? You are very close to me.” That was the last thing he was able to say until her lips pressed softly against his own. They stood there, finding their place in the moment. Unfortunately, the need for air came about which led for the pair to draw away from the other.

“I think we’re supposed to do that at the alter.” Norm whispered, which sent her into a fit of giggles. He giggled along with her and moved to hold her hand. She grasped his hand tightly and felt the sweat disappear from her palms. Norm felt a surge of confidence as he looked her in the eyes once more.

“Shall we go get married now?” He suggested, looking back into their own vault.

“Let’s go get married.” She agreed, beginning to drag him along with her. Norm followed willingly, and even ended up dragging her a little bit in his excitement to finally have the girl.

#rebelliousstories #writing #fallout imagine #fallout #norm maclean #norm maclean x reader #norman maclean #Norman Maclean imagine #Norman Maclean x reader #norm Maclean x oc #norman Maclean x oc #norm maclean imagine

[meichenxi]

languages, travel, identity, grief

Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.

I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.

That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.

I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.

And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.

I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.

And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.

But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.

There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!

And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.

So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.

You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.

I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.

It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.

And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.

It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.

Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.

#langblr #chinese #languages #culture #china #:(((((((((((

[seriousbrat]

you said james changed but did he? no apology in sight... still tricking lily and going behind her back to hex snape.. leaving his wife and newborn alone in their secret hiding spot to mess with muggles..

genuinely lol what is this 'leaving their hiding spot to mess with muggles' thing, I think you're the second anon who has claimed something like that recently and it's like.... where lmao. when did that happen? who r these muggles? 😭

if you're referring to the prequel, that was almost certainly, like 100% certainly, before harry was born when lily and james were fighting for the Order along with the rest of the Marauders and not in hiding. This is what Lily says, years later, in her letter to Sirius:

James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell -- also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much.

doesn't that imply he wasn't sneaking out? and if he had left the hiding spot in the past it was "little excursions" with Lily's full knowledge and approval, with the safety of the cloak. I don't see the big deal, and it's possible that Lily was leaving the house on occasion too when they had the cloak.

people are so determined to see things in the worst possible light it's kind of funny. It's not enough that James was a dickhead and a bully in canon, he has to be this insidious abusive master manipulator guy who somehow conned Lily "you make me SICK" Evans into marrying her and having a kid with him. Like, no offence but it's just not that deep.

We don't see how he changed because the story isn't about him, it's about his son, but there's plenty of evidence that he did, a BIG example being that a girl who couldn't stand the sight of him and was extremely vocal about the fact ended up marrying him. Something changed, and it's just highly unlikely that James, a fictional character, constructed an elaborate ruse behind the scenes that we see no evidence for to trick Lily, and every other character, into thinking he was an entirely different person. If that had been the author's intent for these characters who, btw, do not exist outside the text we're given, there would be proof of it. Rather, we're given evidence he 'deflated his head' and that lily fell in love with him and that they were happy together.

I've already said it but I don't think James not telling her about fighting with Snape (who, let it be said, at that point was also instigating) is a good thing. Obviously. It's dishonest and he should have told her. But I also think a likely reason he didn't tell her was not wanting to hurt her. That doesn't make it okay, but there can be problems and slip-ups and things to work through in a relationship without it being some big evil insidious manipulation.

Sev hid all sorts of things from her too, important things like "I'm thinking about joining the Death Eaters btw lol". People lie and hide things, especially teens. Maybe the simplest explanation here, rather than this weird jamespiracy thing, is that a seventeen year old boy was kind of shit sometimes but ultimately dedicated his life to protecting others, fought bravely in a war, grew tf up, and sacrificed himself to save his wife and child.

idk like to me it's not that deep, and it's continually bonkers to me that some snape fans will have wildly different standards for their innocent baby boy (idk him) than they do for every other character. bro did way worse stuff than not telling his gf he was getting into fights, james did worse stuff, and yet I still love them both and u wont convince me not to

#like if that had been the intent the brief snapshot of them at godric's hollow would have shown that. #instead of showing them being happy together #and lily's letter would have also alluded to it. instead of her caring about his feelings and talking fondly of him #jily #meta #replies #as for 'no apology' did you expect one? haha #''hi snivellus i know ur awfully busy being a death eater and all. but im terribly sorry about bullying you and all that. laters!'' #im joking but really. what would an apology have achieved and how could it possibly have come about lol #james potter #jl #james

[mcflymemes]

NOCTURNAL ANIMALS (2016) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

please don't say that. i don't want to be like my mother.

do you ever feel like your life has turned into something that you never intended?

that's a deal breaker for me.

we might be perfect for each other if we didn't live in the real world.

why do you always think the worst of me?

you're wrong. you and i are nothing alike.

i see we're settling for less now!

a package arrived for you. i found it in the mailbox this morning.

i'm sorry, but could you help me open this? i just cut my finger. paper cut.

in the end, you left me with the inspiration that i needed to write from the heart.

where were you last night?

by the time i left the office, i was late for my dinner.

it would have taken you fifteen minutes. fifteen minutes, and it would have meant a lot to me.

you didn't come to bed last night.

i didn't want to wake you up.

that doesn't sound like you.

are things a little better?

i'm surprised. i thought we were hiding it pretty well.

[name], i'm worried about you.

seriously, look at me. you scared me the last time that we talked.

i'm fine. i just can't believe i told you all of those things. i feel embarrassed about it.

what right do i have to not be happy? i have everything. i feel ungrateful not to be happy.

i think we just want different things. or maybe i want different things.

we get into things when we're young because we think they mean something.

do we really have to stop tonight? i'd rather just get there.

don't look at them. don't give them any reason.

sit still. they've probably got a gun.

don't get out of the car.

you're not supposed to leave the scene of an accident. it's a crime.

don't come any closer.

i'm a gemini, my favorite color is petal pink, and i like long walks and kittens.

you know what, we should call the police.

you got no fucking right to talk to me like that!

you'll get killed if you don't watch it.

may i use your phone?

could you see them in the dark?

i just wanted to hear your voice. i miss you.

you sound weird. are you okay?

you look beautiful as always.

would you like to have dinner?

you know, you were my first crush.

what a weird thing to say.

i'm sorry. i hope that doesn't offend you.

this is a ridiculous conversation. you're too young to get married.

oh my god, did you just say that? you really just said that? that came out of your mouth?

it's like the whole thing is a blur.

now listen. i've got to be honest with you. right now it's not looking good.

if i write it down, then it will last forever.

you know my name. i told you.

you didn't sleep again, did you?

who the hell are you? get off my property!

you'll take this the wrong way, but i think that you need to stop writing about yourself.

please don't start that again. it makes me feel like you don't believe in me.

you always get so fucking defensive about it.

i really wanted to be this person that you thought i was. i really did, but i'm just not that person.

you're wonderful and romantic, and sweet and sensitive, and all the things i'm not. life for you is kind of a dream.

weak. i'm weak. that's what you want to say. go ahead and say it. you've said it before. weak.

i'll live to regret this. i regret it now.

i got a certain pride in how people talk to me, and there are certain things i don't put up with.

nobody gets away with what you did.

may i get you a drink while you wait?

#mcflymemes #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay prompt #roleplay memes #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #inbox prompt #rp inbox meme #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #nocturnal animals

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 3/34 - soft blue sweater

[Read on AO3]

That weekend, it is with giddy excitement that Mulder and Scully spend the day at her apartment up to their eyeballs in paperwork, brochures, and Chinese food.

“Next question: where would we live? Together or separate?”

“Together,” she answers, before thinking she should probably soften that affirmative answer with an indifferent, “if that works for you.”

“It more than works for me,” he says with certainty. “I can ask Frohike for the number of the real estate agent who hooked him up with the lair. Or we could live here, either way.”

This is crazy. They’re moving so fast. What they’re thinking of doing doesn’t even make sense. Everyone will think they’ve well and truly lost their minds, and maybe they have!

“This is giving me a headache,” she admits, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

“I’ll flag that as one to revisit later,” he says, jotting something down in a notebook. “This communicating thing is a lot of work, huh, Scully? No wonder we don’t do it more often.” He grins at her, more freely than he has in a long time.

She rubs a hand over her tired eyes. “No, it’s good. It’s good. I’m glad we’re doing this, Mulder.”

“Me too.”

He just looks so happy, she can’t help but smile back at him. The knot of uncertainty she’s been harboring as a result of her overthinking dissolves instantly in the radiance of his boyish enthusiasm. He’s all soft edges today, for once out of his G-man uniform. Instead, he wears that soft knit blue sweater she likes so much, and jeans that hug him in all the right places.

His socked feet rest on her coffee table while he flips through various documents, assembling them into binders with an attention to detail that she’s only ever seen him apply to their files. She’s mesmerized.

This might be her life. If they go through with this… He just said he’d live with her. Weekends spent together flash before her eyes, not having to say goodbye after one of their movie nights, just ‘goodnight.’ Takeout containers morph into home-cooked dinners at the table in her kitchen. Him making coffee in the morning. Driving to and from work together…

As much as the thought appeals to her, there’s one tiny detail missing that could put an end to this entire operation before it even begins.

“Mulder?” she asks, inadvertently cutting off whatever rambling he’s been doing while she wasn’t paying attention.

He glances up at her, pushing his glasses back up his nose to keep them from sliding off. The sight almost makes her forget what she was going to ask, as important as it was, but in this case, her concern far outweighs anything else.

“Do you think they’ll buy the co-parenting thing? I mean, I’m not really seeing a precedent for it in any of the literature I’ve looked at. Would they even accept our application?”

He’s quiet for a second. That second stretches into two.

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

She swears the entire block goes silent, not even the sound of a car on the street outside or the hum of heat pumping through her apartment. It makes his words feel heavy. Meaningful. Like she’s just dipped into unfamiliar and dangerous territory without knowing it.

“And...?”

He rubs the back of his neck, obviously struggling to verbalize whatever is going on in that beautiful mind of his.

And then he just outright says it.

“We could get married.”

Her eyes go wide. 

Married.  

“Mulder…”

He puts his hands up, halting her speech. “No, I’m serious. You just said we’d be living together. What’s the difference if we also happen to have a piece of paper that makes it official?” 

There’s that look in his eye, the one he gets when he sits her down for one of his slide presentations. Never could she have imagined he’d have the same look when trying to convince her of marriage. It’s overwhelming.

“Unless,” he pauses, “you think you might meet someone sometime in the future, which is a completely valid concern…”

She has to stop him there. “That’s not it at all. I just– What if this doesn’t work out and we don’t get a baby? You’d be stuck with me and have nothing to show for it.” 

Don’t put all your eggs in one basket, the saying goes. If this fails, she could lose… everything. Is that a risk worth taking? Would he grow to resent her? Would they have to jump through legal hoops to undo all of this if things don’t go their way?

“And you could meet someone too,” she reminds him, “someone that could give you a real family. What then?”

He ducks his head, shaking it in a poor attempt to hide a wry smile. “What’s a real family, anyway?” he counters with a shrug, then grabs her hand. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck with than you, Scully.”

Her eyes find his, searching them for something to clue her in to his thought process. Is he serious? Has he lost his mind? She finds nothing but bare honesty in his emerald depths. Bare honesty, and that hope she’s been seeing there since this whole idea came up. It’s a different look for him, but oh how she loves it. She wants to do everything in her power to keep it there.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’ve thought of asking you before?” he asks.

Her brows furrow, and though part of her wants to bolt, to declare this whole evening an error in judgment, she stays, looking at him warily. His thumb runs over her knuckles, soothing, as if he had known her inclination was to flee from this conversation. Stay , his touch says. Stay with me.

She shakes her head, lips quivering in an almost-smile, and says what he always loves to hear her say. “You’re crazy.”

“No, I’m not!” he counters, equally amused and defensive. “When you had cancer, and I had to fight tooth and nail to get to see you in the hospital…”

She swallows at the memory of waking to find him collapsed by the side of her bed, his hand clasping hers like a lifeline.

“Really?”

“Really,” he answers, his smile softening into fondness. “Though I’m pretty sure Bill would have killed me.”

That brings out a laugh, which Scully shyly hides behind her hand as she wipes it across her nose. When had she started tearing up?

“We’ll buy you a helmet and some shoulder pads, then,” she concedes teasingly.

His mouth quirks up in a smile, knowing precisely what is implied by that response.

“Is that a yes?”

She pauses for a moment, eyes locking with his. Is it? Is she about to agree to marry her best friend?

It should be more of a question, but it isn’t. For some reason, this feels like the most logical thing to do.

She nods.

He shifts on the couch, suppressing a smile and squeezing her hand before letting go. “Well alright then…” he says, crossing his arms in front of him for lack of anything better to do with them. “We can go to the courthouse whenever you’re ready. Or, if you want an actual wedding—”

“No,” she says, a little too quickly. “No, the courthouse will be fine.”

“As long as your mom doesn’t pool her money with Bill to order a hit on me,” he jokes.

“She wouldn’t do that,” she says, rolling her eyes. He does bring up an interesting point though, one that fills her with trepidation. “God, we’ll have to tell her, won’t we? And your mom. And Skinner .”

The dread increases with each name listed.

“We’ll figure that out as we go,” he assures her, placing a calming hand on her knee. “For now, this is just between us. Until you decide otherwise.”

“Just between us,” she agrees, letting his words melt her worries away.

 -.-.-

He had lingered for a while in her doorway when the time came for him to go back to his apartment. It was awkward, but not in a way that might cause alarm in light of what they’d just agreed to do. 

No, as crazy as it might sound, this was one decision neither of them could imagine regretting. The gravity of the situation, though, was what led to the uncharacteristic silence and shyness as she bade him farewell with an impulsive, last-minute hug. He had smiled, and walked backwards out the door, maintaining eye contact until she slowly shut the door between them.

She lies awake in her bed hours later, unable to sleep.

This morning, she was a perpetually single federal agent with a pipe dream of being a mother. Now, she’s engaged to her partner, and there’s partially filled out adoption paperwork with both his and her names on them burning a hole through her top desk drawer.

The Dana from seven years ago would tell her she’s lost her mind.

But then, that Dana also wouldn’t know how important her crackpot new partner would end up being in her life. Skeptical as she was, she’d hardly believe it anyway.

Engaged . She’s always thought about this day, how it would feel to have a man ask for her hand in marriage. She can say without a doubt that this is not how she expected it to go, but the disappointment one might expect in her situation is absent. They may not be going about this in the traditional way, but it is nothing less than what she’d expect with Mulder. 

He had long since rewritten her thoughts on what a normal life was supposed to look like. Her eyes had been opened, the possibilities now seemingly endless instead of linear and predictable. Despite the heartache she has endured over the years, it’s worth it to live with a more complete view of the world. Sometimes, it feels like she and Mulder are the only ones who can see it.

Sighing, she rolls over, her gaze settling on her nightstand.

She shouldn’t. He could be sleeping.

All the same, the corded device beckons her. It’s a temptation she’s familiar with, although tonight it is particularly strong and irresistible.

Don’t, Dana. It’s not real. He’s not really your– Give him space.

She picks up the phone anyway.

Before she can even change her mind, she hears the line connect, and she greets him in the way he’s come to expect.

“Mulder, it’s me.”

She can almost hear him smile on the other end of the call, and all thoughts of this being a bad idea fly from her mind. 

“Well if it isn’t the soon-to-be Mrs. Spooky Mulder,” he says jovially, sounding much too awake for her to have interrupted his sleep.

She rolls her eyes, but can’t help the flutter in her chest at his words. At the timbre of his voice, lazy and drawn out at this late hour. He can be endearing when he wants to be. A real sap at times.

“Hey, Scully. We’re engaged.”

“I know,” she speaks into the phone, curling in toward it and holding it with both hands up against her ear. Her pillow welcomes her into its embrace, and she sinks into it, grinning into the covers.

“We’re gonna give poor Skinner a heart attack,” he says with a laugh.

Their poor boss. He must have had no idea what he was getting into when he was assigned to oversee the X-Files. 

“He’ll get over it,” she says dismissively.

She hears Mulder chuckle a little, the breathy sound tickling her ear. She can tell he’s tipping back in his rickety desk chair in his apartment by the rhythmic creak that sounds, and she pictures him with his feet up on the desk, maybe spinning his basketball around idly in his hands.

“I don’t know, this might break his heart, Scully,” he teases.

Scully rolls her eyes. “Oh, would you stop that? He does not have a thing for me.”

“He absolutely does, and so does every guy in the building.”

She almost asks, ‘Every guy?’ but thankfully catches herself before uttering those words. Sometimes she wonders, but then everything with Diana had shaken what she thought she knew about him. They are still working on getting back to where they were before. It’s far too fresh for her to make any suppositions about where they stand now.

They fall into a brief silence, each waiting for the other to speak first.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he finally asks, when it becomes clear she won’t tell him why she called unless prompted.

She sighs. “I can’t sleep.”

He hums softly in amusement, the sound rattling over the phone. “I don’t know if I’m really the expert you want to be talking to on that particular subject, Scully. Just what exactly do you want me to do about it?” he teases.

“Just talk to me,” she says softly, as if speaking quietly will somehow lessen the embarrassment she feels.

“Ah, so you want me to bore you to sleep. Got it,” he says, taking it in stride. “Which cryptid would you like to hear about tonight, Miss Scully?”

She closes her eyes, her lips tightening into a tired smile. “No monsters, Mulder. You know I find those way too fascinating.”

“Ha ha, Scully,” he says, laughing at her obvious joke. “Okay. How about this? There was this kid at my school growing up. Mark. One of twelve siblings in the same family.”

“Twelve?” she asks incredulously.

“Mm-hmm. All of them adopted.”

Her smile widens, and she burrows further into her pillow, tucking her comforter over her shoulders. She loves these little glimpses she gets into his old life, rare as they are. She doesn’t have to ask why he chose to tell her this one tonight of all nights. His motives are as clear as can be.

“They’d go to Disneyland every summer, all twelve of them plus their parents,” he continues. “Sam and I were so jealous. One of the girls was in the same grade as her, so we all hung out a lot. Well, not all of us. With that many siblings, there were bound to be some you just didn’t get along with. We had fun, though.”

“How’d they afford Disneyland with twelve children?” she asks sleepily.

“It was Martha’s Vineyard, Scully,” he answers simply. “They were filthy rich.”

She hums, feeling herself begin to relax at the soothing monotone of his voice. The line falls silent, but she knows he’s still there. She can hear the gentle sound of his breathing. She allows it to lull her into a state of restfulness.

“After Sam disappeared, it didn’t seem fair. He had so many siblings, while I lost the only one I’d ever have. I stayed away from him for a while after that. He was one of the only people at school that didn’t treat me like some criminal or freak after she was abducted, but I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him or his little sister anymore. It was too big a reminder of what I was missing.”

Scully’s heart aches as she listens. This bedtime story doesn’t have a happy ending, she knows. Though her eyes are closed, she feels a tear leak onto her pillow, hurting for the lonely little boy her partner had once been. She wishes, like she has so many times before, that she could have been there for him then like she is now.

His voice returns, crackling over the line. “Eventually I started going over there again,” he continues, “before they moved away. They were kind to me. Treated me like one of their own. It didn’t make up for Sam being gone, of course, but at least I wasn’t completely alone. And it taught me an important lesson, one I think I’m only just beginning to understand.”

“What’s that, Mulder?” Scully slurs, barely keeping awake but wanting to know the answer—this epiphany he’s had. She has to know how he can tell this story without breaking down into tears as she would if it were her own.

“You can choose your family,” he answers finally, as if it were the obvious conclusion to this story. “They might not have been connected by blood, but Mark’s family was connected by something stronger. Love .”  

He breathes, perhaps lost in the memory of his childhood friend. Perhaps he’s contemplating the great mysteries and joys of the universe. Either could be possible for this deeply philosophical man.

“It seemed to work out pretty good for them.”

Scully’s heart blooms with emotion, her eyes filling with tears.

“It’s time I choose my family, Scully,” he says softly, his voice lowering to just above a whisper. “I hope one day I’ll find out what happened to my sister. I– I still need to have some closure, I think. But it feels good to hope for something else too, for a change. Something more than piecing together a family that was never together in the first place. So, thank you. You’re the one who showed me it was possible. I think I owe you more than everything, at this point.”

She smiles softly into her pillow, reminded of the feel of his breath on her lips that day in his hallway. It’s a thought she has come back to innumerable times since it happened, and though there have been some shake ups since then, it still brings her comfort.

She allows the memory to wash over her, covering her with a blanket of warmth and security.

And finally, she succumbs to the pull of sleep. 

-.-.-

It’s quiet. He listens, recognizing the subtle change in her breathing, and he knows she’s fallen asleep. He could hang up, call it a night, but he selfishly isn’t ready to.

There’s still one more thing he wants to say.

“I choose you, Scully,” he whispers into the phone, too cowardly to say it when she might hear him. “You’re my family. And I can’t wait to see how it grows from here.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Hi! Saw that you were doing requests!

Prompt #1 with Lucifer confessing and wanting to make Adam his Queen like it should have been since the beginning

1. “If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad.”

I sure can anon 😎 Enjoy!

Lucifer was nervous. He didn't do nervous he made others nervous he was the fucking King of Hell for fuck sakes!

But here he was, nerves wracking his body as he waited for Adam down in the lobby. This date had to be perfect, it was THE date, the one that would make or break them.

He was ready to ask Adam to marry him, like how he always said he would since the garden. Lucifer was finally going to make good on his promises.

Adam came down the stairs, he was dressed formal casual, he wasn't much for suits but Lucifer said the place they were going was pretty fancy. He figured he should wear more than just blue jeans and a rock band t-shirt. "Hey." He greeted when he got over to Lucifer.

"Hey yourself." He offered Adam his arm and the sinner took it as they walked through the portal.

They took their seat at their reserved table and looked over the menus. Lucifer swore the ring in his pocket suddenly felt like it weighed 1000lbs.

He wasn't sure what to do if Adam said no. Would they break up? Would they keep dating and things stay the same only slightly awkward? Would they pretend it never happened?

The waiter came and took their orders and left without another word. "So what all were you up to today? I haven't seen you, you weren't hiding from me were you?" Adam asked playfully, as he looked over the rim of his wine glass as he took a drink.

Lucifer had been away all day getting Adam's ring down in Lust. It had taken longer than he thought it would. "What!? No, no, no, no, no, I would never. That's silly what would I be hiding?" Was he sweating? He suddenly felt damp in his suit.

"It's just a joke Luci, relax. If I didn't know better I'd say you were hiding something from me." Adam had noticed his odd behavior all week and it was just so not Lucifer. It only got worse as of today.

"I'm not hiding anything. Promise." Expect maybe the 48 karat black gold ring in my pocket. "How was your day?"

Adam shrugged, "Good I guess. Got a lot done in the garden. It was actually nice." Lucifer had built Adam his own garden at the hotel to help keep him occupied during the day when he didn't have other things going on.

Their food came and they ate for a little while in silence. Lucifer was trying to find the right moment to bring out the ring. "Adam, you know I love you right?"

"Oh my god, what did you do?"

"What? Nothing! Nothing. I just wanted to tell you how much I love and care about you. If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad. I have loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you in the garden and I've always had one regret in life." Lucifer reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box. "I should have done this a long time ago, like I promised I would. Adam, will you become my Queen and marry me?" He opened the ring box to show him the ring inside.

Adam looked wide eyed and surprised. He really hasn't been expecting this to happen. He looked between the ring and Lucifer's hopeful face and swore he fucking melted. "Fuck yes." He put his hand out and Lucifer placed the ring in Adams ring finger.

Lucifer kissed the back of Adam's hand and gazed up at his fiance.

It only took him ten thousand years.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

[teecupangel]

I had an idea for an Altaïr that accepted Al Mualim’s teachings and became his true successor after he dies, basically keeping Masyaf the same after his death with the apple. What would happen if a reincarnated Desmond just appeared in Masyaf one day? I was thinking of Altdes but like super Yandere Altaïr

You wanna make it all the more morally questionable?

Altaïr finished what Al Mualim failed to do.

He managed to use the Apple to control everyone in Masyaf.

When Desmond is transported into the past, Altaïr had already gotten to Saladin and is slowly getting the men King Richard trusts the most under his command.

Desmond was reborn as a nobody in this land… is what he would like to say.

Unfortunately…

Or maybe fortunately?

He was reborn as Jalāl al-Dīn Ḥasan III, the only son of imam of Alamut.

Meaning he’s 22 years old younger than Altaïr…

He was kept in the harem as a child and it was hard to run away from an entire castle filled with Assassins who knew their little prince liked to run away.

He had only met Altaïr once when he was growing up, being able to take peek even after his father ordered him to stay in his room while the mentor of Masyaf was visiting.

He had been sixteen years old.

And Altaïr looked just as handsome as he remembered.

Their eyes met and there was something in his eyes that made Desmond feel… something.

Something both enticing and… dangerous.

One of the Assassins saw him and escorted him back to his room before his father found out.

The following day, his father asked for him and he had been worried that he learned of Desmond sneaking in last night.

Instead, he ordered Desmond to show Altaïr around Alamut which he agreed easily to.

Altaïr’s stay in Alamut was short and Desmond savored every moment of it. He was a bit different from Desmond’s image of him.

More open in his curiosity of Alamut and…

Of Desmond himself.

He knew that Altaïr already had two sons by now.

But Altaïr laughed when Desmond asked about his wife.

He didn’t have a wife.

Desmond thought he was joking.

So Altaïr explained…

His sons’ mother was not married to him. She did him a ‘favor’. In exchange, he ‘assisted’ her in taking over the Templar Order. It’’s because of their ‘trade’ that Altaïr was able to secure an alliance with the newly reformed Templar Order.

Something was wrong.

Desmond has no idea why the timeline was this skewered. He sure as hell knew it wasn’t him.

It couldn’t be him.

He had been too young when Altaïr became a mentor to do anything even when he wanted to.

So he had to find out what happened to change the ‘past’ this much.

And the fact that he knew that there was something between them, something simmering under the surface with each graze of the back of their hands, of each brief touch on the arm, the shoulder, and back…

There was something between them that Desmond knew he was powerless to stop.

He didn’t want to stop.

So he asked his father if he could stay in Masyaf for a while, be some kind liaison or something.

He had been surprised when his father said yes.

He should have questioned it.

Instead…

He was just glad that he could stay with Altaïr longer.

.

[Why are you bringing that child?]

“Jealous?”

[You do not need that child.]

“He’s not a child, is he? He doesn’t feel like one.”

[He knows nothing.]

“No one does. Only we know how this past must become to pave way to a better future. Is he not part of your Calculations?”

[He is inconsequential.]

“Then it doesn’t matter if I have him then if that’s true.”

[…]

“He sounds a lot like you. But he’s more… not innocent. No. That’s not the right word… ‘mortal’.”

[Altaïr, do not forget your pact with me.]

“I prefer to call it our vows but what do I know? I am but the first of your many, aren’t I? But he… he’s mine and mine alone.”

[Do not let him distract you.]

“When have I ever failed you? I know what he is. I can see it in his glow. He’s like you… he is you, isn’t he?”

[…]

“Is he my reward for being your loyal puppet king, my dear Reader? Or is he an anomaly I can do as I please?”

[… do as you wish but do not forget who you belong to, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.]

“I belong to you but you do not belong to me. But he… Desmond. He will be mine.”

Altaïr stared at the Apple on his table.

The Apple glowed dimly.

[Fine. Do as you wish.]

“I will.” Altaïr tapped the Apple, letting it roll an inch away from him, “Relax, my dear Reader. Aren’t you curious?”

“Who decided to place your human self here in our fixed past?”

#i don’t know if you wanted the mystery nonny #but you’re getting the mystery XD #no usual tags because #altdes #oh yeah #this is a complicated yandere situation between the three

[m-jelly]

King!Levi x Queen!Reader Semi-NSFW, King!Levi tempts and seduces Reader to stop working and have fun with him @2moth-anon2 requested.

Royal attention

Levi x fem!reader

Royal AU, married, fluff, romance, suggestive language, suggestive touch, teasing.

You're dedicated to your work and trying to organise a trading event for your people, but Levi desires your attention and love.

Sorry for how the tag list looks, if I tag the normal way it won't work and people won't get notifications.

@ladycheesington @darkstarlight82 @levisbrat25 @galactict3a @nyxiieluna

@li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess

@2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @emilyyyy-08

@notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously

The summer breeze drifted through the open window and through the thin curtains. An addictive scent of flowers and honey flowed from you and enticed your husband closer. Everything about you was enchanting from the way you spoke all the way to how you held yourself. All he wanted was to shower you with love.

Levi leaned on your desk as you scribbled away. He lovingly called your name. "Look at me."

You glanced up at him for a moment before carrying on with your papers. "Something you need?"

"So cold." He huffed. "I am your husband, your loving husband."

You smirked for a moment. "I know, grumpy, but this mean and cold wife of yours is working. I have to make sure everything is right."

He pouted. "Why?"

"Because I am not from here, I'm from a different land." You frowned as you looked closer at some designs. "I have to make sure everything is in order and people are happy. I have to make a good impression on them."

"Why?"

You released a long sigh. "Because they are your people and I love you with every fibre of my being and soul."

Levi rose to his feet and gracefully made his way around your desk to you. "You should pay less attention to my people and more attention to me."

"I would love to give you attention, but I need to work. Give me an hour."

He sat on the desk on some of your papers. "You said that an hour ago."

You paused a moment. "I did?" You glanced up at Levi. "Forgive me. I will finish soon."

He held your chin and lifted your head. "That will not do."

You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart race. "Levi."

He eyed your soft lips tinted a sweet colour. He ran his thumb over your lips slowly. "You are so beautiful."

"Thank you." You pulled your head from his touch. "I know I said an hour, but it really is all I need."

A few thoughts went through his mind as he gazed at you. Levi had never known love until he met you. In fact, Levi had never had dirty and lewd thoughts before you. His mind was racing with so many ideas to tempt you to be all his.

He pulled his blazer off and chucked it onto the other seat. He released a sigh as he slowly dragged his cravat off and noticed you kept glancing over at him. He chuckled a little when you squirmed in your seat as he unbuttoned his shirt a little at a time to show off his pecs to you.

He tilted his head as he ruffled his hair. "Such hot weather we are having, hmm?"

You gulped hard as you admired your husband. "Mm, you're right."

He slipped off the desk and moved to behind you. "Perhaps you should remove your little jacket and cool off with me."

You nibbled your lip. "Maybe."

He stood behind you and took off your little jacket. As soon as he put it down, he ran his hands over your exposed shoulders. "You seem...tense..." He leaned down and whispered against your ear. "Let me help with that."

You started working but Levi was distracting you with his touch. You leaned your head back a little as he massaged your shoulders carefully. All the knots in your body melted away as you felt your body relax under his touch. "Levi."

He pushed his hands down your arms. "My darling love, you have so much tension in your body." He nipped the top of your ear. "I've been neglecting my duties as your husband."

You moaned a bit when his hands massaged and pressed right under your breasts. "You're perfect, Levi. You do so much for me."

He moved his hands up to your breasts and lightly touched them. "I could do a lot for you right now." He kissed and nipped your neck as you started panting. "The body holds so much tension in it in many places."

"Many places?"

He licked your neck. "You need whole body therapy." He smiled against your skin. "Such deep loving body therapy."

"I do?"

He hummed a laugh. "That's right." He kissed the side of your head. "You need your body covered in kisses. You need your pure nectar licked and your fruit sucked. You need me deep inside of you to massage the deepest parts of you until a large release of my royal seed fills you until you can't take anymore."

You mewled in delight. "How are you so wonderful Levi?"

He leaned down as he lightly held your neck his other hand moved down your body and lightly massaged your hip. "I married you. You made me into this. Thank you for making me into a better man."

You stood up and shivered. "Y-You were always g-good." You glanced over at him. "I uh...should work."

He hugged you from behind and hugged you. "Just give me one hour of your time." He bit your neck. "That's all I ask."

You hummed a laugh. "That's the problem, you can't just do one hour." You turned around and faced him. "Besides, you know very well I like more than an hour as well." You ran your hands down his body and gripped his shirt. You yanked him closer and purred. "You have wound me up rather tightly, King Levi Ackerman. Are you ready to accept the consequences of your actions?"

Levi picked you up and slammed you against your desk. He slowly pushed you back as he leaned over you. "Oh, you know I am." He growled. "I will worship you, my darling Queen."

#levi ackerman #levi #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x y/n #fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #levi x you #jelly fanfics #levi x yn #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi attack on titan #levi aot #levi ackerman fanfiction

[deluweil]

Based on the shows history with Eddie, I’m not expecting the Abuela and Shannon pop ups to do anything more then propel him into the find new wife for himself and new mother for Chris mission successful. Especially with Edy still on set and them almost being done with the season. Why bother going for a better story when a lazy makes no sense hetero story will do just fine. It’s their specialty when it comes to Eddie after all. Plus They already got that extra queer rep with Buck and Tommy 🙃

Yeah, *sigh* I feel the same on the Eddie front.

God forbid the talent that is Ryan will get a worthy story when we get two white dudes getting the interesting storylines.

I mean, much as love Buck being thrown into curious situations, I am getting tired of the storylines Eddie keep getting, because that's always more of the same, and that's exhausting.

If they weren't going to invest in his story they could have tied him to the first gf he had - being the serial monogamist that he is - and have his storyline revolve around domestic problems, new babies and managing that with work - at least we'd be clear of what his essence is aside from loving Buck like they've been married and intimate for years.

They had that queer rep with Henren and David and Michael - which WAS a great rep and such a well written relationship! I miss them and Michael's interactions with Bobby are sorely missing as well.

I don't think that Buck's storyline is as happy and healthy as ppl make it to be, Tommy literally left him for feeling uncomfortable and fibbing in front of his best friend because he's newly minted out of the closet and maybe he wanted to figure this out by himself first before sharing it with the people closest to him?

Tommy had no right to get upset, and if he wasn't sure of them, he shouldn't have agreed to go to that wedding with Buck, he should have said that he understands where Buck is coming from and to take this slow and that there is no pressure - and maybe keep this friendly until they figure out what they want to be together.

Buck, it felt to me, that has done what he did, the chasing that he said he wouldn't do, because in a certain way he is still in a place where he pleases people even though it is his journey to make and no one should push him to get to that finish line as fast as possible.

Like I said before this is more of the same, Buck does this chasing because like Taylor said, and not in a kind way mind you, that he can't stand not being liked by everyone.

Eddie nudging him to call tommy wasn't exactly the best thing either, because would Buck have still done it if he wasn't told to?

A lot of things don't sit well with me in this story, I've made journeys with my friends when they first came out, one as early as the seventh grade, it is not something that becomes normal immediately, I also saw after the fact what happened when one is shoved out of the closet to his family and friends by force. And how my best friend still bears the guilt of being gay almost 20+years later because that's not how he was raised, and his father didn't accept him, and his first serious boyfriend was a demanding asshole.

He didn't seem like this to us, he was friendly and seemed like a really good guy, but neither one of us knew what really happened there until my friend opened up about it years later.

So when I say Buck's story feels rushed, I talk from experience.

So maybe we have queer rep (which we had before only it wasn't bi) but it doesn't feel like quite there to me, maybe it's the flawed writing, maybe that's the way it was intended to be told to get to some kind of turning point and epiphanies, who knows? I've learned not to expect higher purpose from this show.

I will tell you that though, if the whole Eddie story is to push him to somehow marry M I will retire from this show, I mean that is the laziest form of writing there is, and makes this show completely unwatchable for me, because there is no way we were dragged 7 seasons just so that Eddie can force marry some lukewarm LI out of the need to follow the traditional hetero normative need he was raised into.

Especially since originally Eddie was the one who was supposed to be the coming out story, it would be disappointing on so many levels and I'm not even touching buddie here.

Ryan deserves better than to end with that kind of crappy story-telling.

#911 ask #911 spoilers #911 speculation #evan buckley #eddie diaz #flawed writing #lukewarm relationships #so done with those #buddie #not anti bucktommy but not pro so far either #it doesn't feel healthy