#he just finally feels safe enough to let it all out

[fastandcarlos]

Sweet Gestures That He Does » F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

Max is the perfect gentleman; he’s always doing the little things that so many others forget. If a door is there to be opened, he gets it for you, when the two of you are out walking, he never lets you walk on the side of the traffic, if you have something heavy to carry, he always takes it from your grasp. Although to him his actions don’t count for much, for you, they’re incredibly significant as he makes sure that you feel safe and protected in his company. What always amazes you though, is that he never fails to treat you as his priority.

» Lando Norris

It doesn’t matter the time or place, Lando loves to treat you as his passenger princess and take you from place to place. If you need picking up from work, he’s there, if it suddenly starts to rain, he’s there to give you a lift, he doesn’t care…even if you call at 2am. Lando adores chaperoning you around and letting everyone see you be driven around by him. When he pulls up, he presses the horn to let you know that he’s arrived, and secretly he loves being able to embarrass you a little, especially when you’re stood with your colleagues too.

» Carlos Sainz

Food is the way to your heart, and Carlos definitely makes the most of that. He loves to cook for you whenever he gets the time and make sure that you’re eating plenty of good food. If you’ve got an important meeting, there’s a healthy breakfast there waiting, if you’ve had a tough day, your favourite comfort food is on the side for when you get home, Carlos has all occasions covered. Sometimes, you feel bad that he cooks so much for you, but it’s a job that he adores, especially knowing that what he does always puts a smile on your face too.

» George Russell

Being around George often feels a bit like a dream, and without him even knowing it, being around him often makes you feel as if you’re on cloud nine. You always appreciate George’s ability to take you away from the stress of your day and relieve you of any problems, without even doing anything. The way he looks at you, and holds onto you, is enough for you to relax for a while and feel as if everything is alright in the world. Half the time George doesn’t even spot that he’s doing anything, but it always feels nice to know that he’s helping you feel better.

» Pierre Gasly

The little gifts Pierre buys you are always gratefully received by you, he constantly manages to find the perfect thing for you. If he’s in a shop and sees your favourite chocolate bar, he gets it, or if he sees a pretty bouquet of flowers, he buys them, just because. To Pierre, the gestures are nothing, that’s just what a boyfriend does, but to you, they’re everything as it shows you time and time again that you’re always on Pierre’s mind and that he always somehow ends up remembering all of your favourite things and bringing them home to you.

» Charles LeClerc

Very few people in the world get to touch Charles’ hair, but you are one of the select few who does. Charles is happy to let you play with his hair as he knows how happy it makes you, even if you do leave it in a mess. Most of all though, he likes to let you play with his hair when he knows that you’re having trouble falling asleep. It’s a small gesture, at least to Charles anyway, but to you it always means a lot that he lets you mess up his perfect hair just because it makes him happy to know that you’re finally resting.

» Lewis Hamilton

Since the day you met Lewis, you always knew that Roscoe was a huge part of his life, and so when he started cuddling up to you more than he did Roscoe, and let you lay beside him a little more, it meant a great deal to you. Roscoe still liked to receive a lot of Lewis’ attention, but most of the time you tended to slightly overshadow Roscoe in Lewis’ world as you got more comfortable with each other. You never wanted to forget about Roscoe, but it was secretly very satisfying to know that you had taken over the number one spot in Lewis’ life.

» Alex Albon

Sometimes it was just a simple hello, but you always appreciated how Alex would always send you texts whenever he was away from home. It was an incredibly small gesture, but when you were sometimes on the other side of the world, it was a huge relief for you just to get a simple message and know that Alex was alright. He loved to say good morning and good night, even if it was the middle of the day for you, giving you as many regular updates as he could as Alex knew just how reassuring each message was for you.

» Yuki Tsunoda

If there’s one thing that Yuki is good at, it’s his ability to make you laugh. What you love about Yuki is that he doesn’t care how silly he looks, as long as it cheers you up. It’s not a physical gesture, but Yuki is more than happy to clown around in order to put a smile on your face. Whether it’s a joke, doing a silly dance, or tickling you until you’re pleading with him to stop, as long as you’re laughing, Yuki will do absolutely whatever it takes in order to be the person that makes your heart skip a beat.

» Logan Sargeant

One of your favourite times was when Logan came home, most of the time because he never managed to forget you during his adventures. After each trip, Logan would return with something that he had bought you, the perfect thing that caught his eye when he was shopping in the city. Logan loved how you always kept hold of the things he bought and treasured their sentimental value. Even if it was only a small gesture for him, knowing that he searched every week (despite how busy he was) to find the something that you’d love meant a lot to you.

» Daniel Ricciardo

You never underestimated the importance of work for Daniel, however, it didn’t matter how busy he was, Daniel was still always making you the priority above all else. Even if it meant he was late, Daniel would still send you a text if you needed him, or call you late into the night, no matter how tired it would leave him the next day. You often reassured Daniel that you understood how hectic things were for him, but he never let that stop him prioritizing you, making sure that you always felt loved and never second best to him and his car.

» Oscar Piastri

You weren’t exactly the most social person in the world, social media wasn’t a skill of yours, but luckily for you, it was for Oscar. One of his favourite things to do was photograph you, catching you off guard, lost in the moment, and always managing to snap you when you looked your absolute best. Oscar left you inundated with photos that you could share online, but what you didn’t know, was how many of those photos Oscar also ended up keeping for himself, looking at them and reminding himself of all your great memories whenever he found himself missing you.

» Lance Stroll

The two of you were very unknown amongst the F1 fans, Lance understood that you didn’t exactly want to be in the limelight, but that didn’t stop him showing you that he always thinking of you. When the camera caught him, he would often wink down the lens, whilst people thought that was his way of impressing the fans, only the two of you were aware that that was his secret sign to you. He would always do something just to show you that he was thinking about you, even if you weren’t able to be there to support him in person.

» Esteban Ocon

If there was one thing that Esteban was good at, it was hyping you up, and understanding the interests that you had. The two of you didn’t exactly share similar hobbies, but that didn’t stop Esteban being interested in the things that you liked and joining in with them whenever he had some free time on his hands. He loved them because you loved them, even if sometimes he found himself bored doing your hobbies with you, he would never say anything to you because he knew how much you loved being able to do your favourite thing with your favourite person for company.

» Zhou Guanyu

It didn’t matter how tired he was, how busy he was, or sometimes how smelly he was too, Guanyu would still always be happy to give you the biggest hug in the world. You were a massive cuddler, and Guanyu was more than happy to oblige and give you what you wanted. All you had to do was look at Guanyu with a sheepish smile and he knew exactly what it was that you wanted. He didn’t care if he had to stop what was doing, nothing could top being able to be by your side and cuddling up to you anyway.

» Kevin Magnussen

It was quite a simple gesture, but you loved the different pet names that Kevin used for you. He had different terms of endearment for you depending on how you were feeling, he knew the name to use to cheer you up, or the name to use when he was in your bad books and was trying to make things right again. Even your closest friends often commented on how cute the two of you were together, and although they loved to tease you both about it, you knew deep down they wished they could be as sweet as you two.

» Nico Hulkenberg

The way that Nico treated you was something that many people noticed, everyone went above and beyond for their partner, but Nico especially somehow still seemed to exceed that which many of the other drivers were in awe of. Every day that was some sort of gesture that blew you away, whether it was a surprise date night, or flight tickets for you to be able to fly out to him wherever the grand prix was being held, Nico constantly looked for new ways to impress you and leave everyone else very jealous, wishing they had a boyfriend as amazing as him.

» Valtteri Bottas

If there was one thing that made you love Valtteri, it was the amount of time that he spent on you and making you happy. He made time for you wherever possible, and when you did have the time, Valtteri would be looking for something fun and memorable that you could do together. It didn’t have to be anything grand, even just a bike ride in the mountains was enough for you, but what you appreciated the most was the planning that Valtteri put into your dates together, making sure that they were absolutely perfect for you both to enjoy.

» Sergio Perez

Sergio always impressed you with his gestures, but the moments when you appreciated them the most were those times when your stress levels were at an all time high. He was incredibly observant and always knew when the right time was for him to step in, to stop you rambling and stop you from tipping yourself over the edge. He didn’t have to do much, all you really needed was to know that he was there for you, listening to him whisper into your ear to distract you and reassure you that you didn’t need to worry with him there with you.

» Fernando Alonso

One thing that you were always very appreciative of was how amazing a dad Fernando was. You knew better than most how tired he could get, especially after returning from a race, but that never stopped him stepping up to the plate and taking on every responsibility. As soon as something didn’t quite seem right, he would be up on his feet, assuring you not to worry. Even if you had more energy then him, when he was home it was your turn to relax as Fernando paid you back with sweet gestures for being both parents whenever he was away from home.

[hollowgears]

SHOWDOWN!

"If you're ever in the desert of the underground you better watch out! In the wild east lies a city full of criminals and outcasts who bow down to no one!"

Their sheriff is just as insane as the rest of them, always itching for a fight, the spotlight hog of the wild east, North star! If there's one person the scoundrels of the city listen to it's him, after all no monster can argue against a gun pointed at their face

Still- rumors say that the cruel sheriff actually has a heart behind his act, the monsters working under him act with a lot of respect, many rebels say that he gave them a home safe from the royal guard when no one else would...maybe there's still a heart of gold behind that rude exterior? Who knows!

Thoughts and extras:

Woah! I can't believe I finally got this done!

Starlo was a challenge to design for sure, his canon look is already so good! It was hard to make it different while still looking like something starlo could wear

My art has definitely improved quite a bit since starting this au (god I already feel like I need to redraw martlet!) and I wanted starlo to feel special as he was the first design that really...clicked y'know? I look at it and go: that's my boy!

Working on the au has also been a blast, and I can't thank you guys enough for the support, every reblog or fanart makes my days so much better

But enough about that! Let's talk of the star boy!

As you can see I struggled quite a bit with his outfit (this is not by far the first attempt I made at him) in the beginning I almost took his poncho away! The blasphemy!

Well I guess even now it doesn't exactly qualify as a poncho...but hey close enough

Starlo uses three guns, although only two of them are seen most of the time, in this au starlo actually gets a proper genocide fight, and that's when he pulls out the big guns! (Haha get it-)

He would also have a special type of attack, yellow bullets that cause bleeding (think like karma damage) however the number of these types of bullets he fires is completely dependent on your LV

I'll answer any questions y'all have about him on asks- trust me I'm always itching to talk about these silly guys...

Perhaps ceroba would be next? Although she will take a while, god my wrist needs a break! (And the pile of studying I have to do keeps growing larger...)

[fraugwinska]

If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx

Hey anon - I hope you are doing well. I couldn't let this one sit too long in my inbox... Whatever you are going through: I hope this will help you with a bit of comfort. (I do hope I didn't misinterpret your ask...) I send you the biggest hug, my dearest! <3 TW:Self Harm,Depression,Angst - Minors DNI - 1.3k words

You were doing so well. So, so well.

Arguments with Alastor occurred from time to time, but you had done so well in not letting them become full-blown fights. His rationale and your restraint had always managed to hold the worst at bay and settle any troubles with a few deep breaths, calm words and a compromise. It was something you were hugely proud of, something you had never been able to do before, and with him - you finally seemed to manage.

But now, after a tirade of harsh words, hurtful remarks and slammed doors you are alone in your room, curled up in a bed that feels much too big and streaks of cold tears on your cheeks. Immediately after you stormed out Alastor's radio tower you regretted your tone, regretted what you said, the way you got irrationally upset and how you provoked him - just to hurt him. You were unfair, cruel even, and the worst part was you didn't mean a single thing you said in the heat of the argument. Of course, Alastor said some choice words to you too, nasty things said in cold calmness, but only in reaction to your emotionally charged onslaught. And it didn't change the fact that you had done him wrong, over a fucking triviality that spun out of control.

It doesn't change the fact that the feelings and thoughts you feared slowly return, thoughts of your inadequacy, your worthlessness, your shortcomings all coming back into your head in one big punch of guilt and insecurity. Spiraling, you feel yourself getting more and more tense, like a pressure cooker without a valve, ready to burst. Your chest hurts - no, everything hurts: Your chest, your arms, your head, your heart.

You had done so well.

But you are desperate, panicked - you've pushed the one person away that was able to ground you, the only one that could make you feel safe and strong enough to withstand this urge, this need to hurt, to release. You bury your nails in your thigh, but it is far from enough. He must hate you now, and could you blame him? No, no you couldn't, and you push yourself off the bed, almost frantic.

Release, release, release - where is it? The shame you hid when you first moved into the hotel, the valve you had used so often to momentarily drain yourself from this burdening pain, the tool you had to use because you weren't reborn in hell with the fortune of sharp talons.

The loose floorboard creaks under your erratic steps. Ah. There. Hidden under your feet, untouched for so long. You start to cry again as you kneel down, lifting the panel. You feel like a failure.

Sorry, I am so sorry, your head chants as you reach for it with trembling hands, please just let it be a little less, just a tiny, little...

"Darling..."

You freeze. His voice is quiet, tune- and toneless echoing from behind you. It sends a new shiver through your tense, quivering body. Your hand hovers over the small object but you can't move it away, eyes squeezed shut in defeat. Your brain races, thinking of anything to say but coming up empty.

"My sweetling, whatever you're looking for under there...", he continues slowly, softly, each step of his dressing shoes against the parquet resounding painfully loud in your ears. You're so mortified by him catching you in the act that the tight coil in you seems ready to snap. "...will not do you any good."

He halts when when he is next to you, kneeling down. You feel his shoulder brush your back as he lays a clawed hand on yours and gently pulls it away from the hole in the floor. Your shoulders begin to shake with ragged sobs and his tender touch on your cheek prompts you to tilt your head, face hot, and to look him into his eyes that seem both understanding and sad.

"Harming yourself will only make you hate yourself more than you regrettably already do."

You try to breathe, but fail miserably, choking on the air around you. How could you justify what you were about to do, how could you hurt him again like this, with this action, with this thoughts, after everything you both have worked for? You had done so well - Why didn't you have it more under control, like you should?

"I'm sorry, A-Alastor... I'm sorry, s-so sorry, please..."

He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, steady embrace. One hand comes up, stroking your hair in tender movements, shushing you quietly as he lets you sob into his shoulder. The longer he holds you the easier it gets to draw deep breathes, until you finally manage to draw in the air that your body lacked so much. With each rise and fall of your chest, you feel a tiny bit of the panic fade, as if his soothing static draws it out in humble waves, soft and soothing around and inside you.

"I know, darling...", Alastor murmurs, kissing the top of your head and tightening his hold, "It's all long forgiven already."

A shattered sigh escapes you. How could he do all this for you? Accept you, with all the flaws and mistakes and shortcomings? How can he forgive you with such gentle ease? And still care for you, despite and including it all, why? How?

"Please don't hate me..."

He only loosens his grip when you stop trembling, carefully taking your chin between his claws, prompting you to break the chain of self-degrading thoughts and silencing the whispers in your head as he locks his eyes on yours.

"I could never, darling, even if I tried. But you need to understand: You are fighting the most vicious and cruel enemy there is, my love.", his face is void of the smirk he often wore, the one he doesn't use to tease or ridicule, or mock, it's his serious smile. The one he wears when he's about to be blunt. "Yourself."

A sudden rush of fresh tears cloud your vision. He's right, you know he is - you have always been your own worst enemy. Never giving yourself a fighting chance, the help and care you didn't feel you deserve. It felt so tiring, hopeless, in these moments where you fell victim to your weakness and turned it all onto yourself.

"I'm... so weak."

"We all have our battles. And this happens to be one you exhausted yourself to win on your own. However...", he offers you a sweet smile, taking your hand, "...it's a battle you don't have to fight alone anymore."

He takes your face into one of his large hands - the warmth of his palm is soothing against the rawed skin of your cold cheek as you instinctively lean into it, chasing the gentleness of the touch. The smile he gives you is more serious than you've ever seen before, and he lifts his other hand, waving his fingers for a split second in the corner of your eyes - the loose floorboard squeaks as it magically sets itself back into its place and seals itself with the flooring, eliminating the option of taking it off again. Alastor sighs, tilting his head to recapture your gaze.

"Whatever angry words are exchanged and however vexed we might be with each other... please, my love, let me hold you together in my arms when you threaten to fall apart like this."

How long he held you in his arms that night, settled in your bed instead of his as you usually did - you didn't know. How many soothing touches he planted on your body – you didn't count. All that mattered were the soft kisses that he pressed on your cheeks, the way he held your hand, fingers entwined with yours, and the soothing words he repeated to you, over and over like a mantra.

"You are doing well, my love."

[another-random-paradise]

Can I rq for hc about twst.. Where the fem!reader(gn!reader if like) has an abusive father and caused her a truma? And the boys ( the first years + lilia & leona & azul & trein) are shocked when they find out?

Something about angst/comfort with some fluff .... I hope you're comfortable writing that.

A new start

thank you for the request. I'll be honest, i was debating wether to write this or not, as abuse is a complex subject, and i was worried about misunderstanding or accidentally offending those who have gone/are going through this. But remembered that, I too, turned to fanfics for comfort during some of my worst days, and if i can be, or at least create, that comfort for someone else, then I'm satisfied with what I've achieved in live. But I do have a 4 character limit that i have to enforce for the sake of my own mental health, so i didn't do the first years, I'm very sorry.

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

Reader opens up to them about their abusive father

Characters: Lillia, Leona, Azul, Proffessor Trein

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Talk of past abuse

written platonically, but Leona and Azul can be read romatically

!Please note that this is not meant to glorify or romanticize abuse, but meant as a form of comfort for those that need it!

Lillia

-Lillia has always been one to sneak up on and scare people, he just found their reactions so funny!

-But he can easily tell that you react a lot more intensely than others. He eventually stops sneaking up on you, because your reactions aren't fun, they just seem.. sad to him.

-Instead of surprise, you feel fear, and he doesn't like it. He can tell, just from that, that something is wrong, and while he wants to know what, he won't pressure you. As a father, he learned quickly that, that only leads to dishonesty

-As the two of you become closer, you start to be more comfortable and open with him

-And during a particularly calm conversation, a rather rare thing with someone like Lillia, you finally open up to him

-You two are sitting on a bench near his dorm, with no one around, when your conversation suddenly shifts to the past.

-As you tell him what your father did, Lillia feels anger, no, rage.

-But not at you, never at you. No, he is enraged that your father could treat his own child like that. He raised his enemy's son, after a war that lastet years, the child of the same man that killed the woman he loved, and still managed to be the best father he could be. And that trash bag of a person- if you could even call him that - couldn't even take care of his own?! 

-When you see the look in his eyes, you almost get scared, but something just tells you, that anger isn't directed at you. And before you can question him, he pulls you into a hug. You would dare to call it the most gentle hug you have ever experienced.

-"You are safe now. You always will be for as long as I'll live."  His words are as genuine as can be, as his grip tightens ever so slightly. But it doesn't feel like a cage, more like a weighted blanket engulfing your body, the weight slowly lulling you to sleep.

-If you weren't crying before, chances are you are now. And he lets you, comfortingly rubbing your back your back as you sob into his shoulder, finally letting it all out.

-The days after that, you notice that Lillias attitude towards you has changed over so slightly, he is acting a lot more caringly, he is acting.. almost fatherly. And you don't even realize that, that is his goal.

-He makes sure you always eat enough, and will cook your lunch and dinner himself if he has to, and that alone is motivation enough to eat properly, checks up on you, helps you with homework and similar, and always lends you a shoulder to cry on.

-Lillia has already made up his mind. He raised a human and a fae prince, what harm could taking in one more human do?

-You may have not have had a proper father up until now, but rather late than never, no?

Leona

-He noticed how skittish you seemed to be when you first met. The fear in your eyes obvious, no matter whether you try to hide it or not, as he snapped at you for stepping on his tail. It was the main reason he let you of so easily.

-He saw it again during his overblot, right before he transformed, as well as shortly after his recovery, when he approached you to sort things out. He expected fear, an overblot is nothing short of scary after all, but something about your fear just seemed different to him, but he decided not to bother you about it.

-Eventually you two get closer, he considers you one of his closest friends ...which isn't that great of an achievement since he doesn't have that many- but at least actually becoming one of his friends at all can be counted as one!

-One day, while simply hanging out, he decides to bring it up. He says it casually enough that you know you don't have to answer, without him having to outright say it. 

-You decide you trust him enough and tell him about your father and what he did

-He's shocked. He doesn't know what exactly he expected, but it, for some reason, it wasn't this. He thought maybe bully's, a bad ex, or something like that... but your own father? He didn't know he could hate someone so much without ever meeting them

-He's now wide awake, but stays quiet. He has never been good with words, let alone comforting someone, so he just lends you an open ear. 

-The quietness might put you off at first, but his tail subconsciously wraps around your arm, as he processes it, I'm afraid this is as much proper comfort you'll get, but if you decide to hug or cuddle him, he'll let you

-While he may not be the best with words, he does know how to take action while still being lazy.

-He practically has his own fan club at his beck and call, also known as the savanaclaw dorm, and he puts them to use.

-He tells them to make sure no one gives you trouble, and that you remain harm free, or else they'll have trouble with him. And it works! Suddenly all your bullies leave you alone!.. you don't even realize the amount of savanaclaw members staring the bully down.

-It's Leona's way of comforting and taking care of you, because if your father won't, then he damn sure will.

Azul

-Azul can be very observant when he wants to be, so it wasn't hard to tell, that the fear you felt when the twins got violent in front of you.. your fear was different, than that of the usual person

-He has to be honest, when he first saw it, he thought maybe he could utilize it to make you sign a contract.. but after his overblot his entire perspective seemed to change, you just seemed to understand his childhood trauma a little to well, how the constant abuse could hurt and even change oneself

-He'd be lying if he said that, that wasn't part of the reason you two got as close as you did, you two just seemed to understand to understand each other on a deeper level

-One day, while simply sitting in the VIP lounge while he worked, you two once again ended up talking about the past, and this time, you decided to be the one to open up to him about your childhood

-Azul stops in his tracks as you do, horrified at the thought of that happening  happening to you. He was just quiet for a moment, and unlike usual, this wasn't a comfortable silence

-"Well.. you're here now, he won't reach you here. I'll make sure of this, I'll make a contract to prove it." His voice was quiet, as he was debating what to do, he wanted to properly comfort you, but he didn't know how. He was still very young when his mom got divorced and, well, the twins never exactly needed comforting. So instead, he does what he does best, write a contract.

-For once, it's a contract that benefits you more that him. It mentions that you'll get protection from bully's and your father, should he somehow end up in twisted wonderland, and that Mostro lounge can be like a save haven that you can go to even after it's closing times. In return, he asks that you come to him should anything happen to you, from your father actually finding you, to simply getting triggert by something that reminds you of the past, whatever that may be.

-He just hopes that, even though he isn't the best when it comes to comfort, he can be the save haven for you that your dad failed to be.

Professor Trein

-Trein likes you for the simple reason that you're one of the very rare students that doesn't either cause trouble or fall asleep in his class

-During the topic of ancestry and how it affected history, ever so often the topic would change to the students family's, some students interested in yours, since your from another world. He couldn't help but notice how you never brought up your father.

-Eventually Trein became your favourite teacher! Sure, his lectures can be boring, but history is one of the few subjects you can participate in, and as long as you behave, he's actually pretty nice!

-Trein, already a father of multiple daughters, couldn't help but feel fatherly towards you, he made sure you knew you could confide in him

-One day, the lesson is about the past of some important historical figure, as things happened to be, this historical figure was abused too. Trein almost immediately noticed how quiet you got, and how hesitant you were to do the assignments. So, Trein asked you to stay after class

-He told you he noticed the change, and you decide to entrust him your story

-Trein, as a father himself, is horrified. How could anyone do that to their own flesh and blood? He lets you speak, nodding occasionally to let you know he's listening.

-"I am so sorry that happened to you. you deserve better". If you need or want it, he'll hug you and let you sob into his shoulder

-Trein, similarly to Lillia, will start to act more fatherly after that. He won't be less strict with you exam wise, but if he feels a subject could be triggering to you, he'll let you know before class, so that you can mentally prepare yourself, or miss class with his permission if needed.

-Since you aren't from twisted wonderland, you don't have a legal guardian here, do you? How do you feel about adoption? He's already raised multiple daughters, he's sure he can do it again. That way you also have somewhere to go during holidays! 

-He can't change what has already happened, but he'll make sure your last few teenage years are spent happily in a proper home

Abuse is a sensitive subject, and while i tried my best to be as respectful as possible, I know it is very possible for me to have done something wrong. So, if anything here is disrespectful, triggering, or just generally insensitive, I beg you to tell me, so that i can fix it as fast as possible.

I admit to not being the most educated on this subject, but if you are still in this situation or believe someone else is, I believe there are different hot lines for different country's that can tell you what you can do to get help. If you can, find a public computer or use a friends phone to find and call said hotline.

I truly hope that your okay anon and anyone else that is reading this, and that this fic could bring you some comfort.

[mrinafria]

And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you. (CoS)

[contains spoilers; tw: blood]

When they ask me about the purest love story out there, I'd show them these two.

It's not the sacrifice per se that makes it great for me, it's the way they feel about each other, about the love they give and receive. Even in their last/worst moments, they somehow find the courage because the other one is safe? Im Sol is scared out of her mind handling this traumatic ordeal on her own so she seeks help from the detectives. Her only peace of mind is that at least Seon Jae is safe. Then she learns about his phone call and doesn't spare a second to run. The same girl who was so scared a while back throws all caution out of the window the moment Seon Jae is in danger, because she'd risk her life than Seon Jae's. Can you imagine the trauma seeing him dying for the third time, and her actually witnessing it this time around? If I were Im Sol, I would do anything to not have to go through that too. Even if it meant losing the person so they were never my person to begin with.

And Seon Jae. Boy is dying. Dying. You can see it in his eyes that he's aware of it too and yet, he is so grateful? So at peace with himself and with life? Like he has no regrets about any unfinished business, unlived years, unattained dreams, unspoken words to his loved ones. He already told Im Sol he loved her, and she reciprocated. That was enough. For him, that was good enough.

I go back to this scene like a masochist because THE DETAILS. By the time Im Sol arrives, you know Seon Jae is beyond saving. He knows it too. He's not even trying to escape or save himself. It looks like he's been holding on on his own for a while. His face has turned ashen, breathing uneven, hands slightly shaking. He's barely holding it together. Barely there.

However, he is not trying to push that guy away or take that knife out.

Instead, he's holding that guy's hand.

Let that sink in for a moment.

He is holding on to that hand. JUST SO HE CAN HOLD ON TO THE GUY.

Since the taxi driver is at an advantage here, and Seon Jae knows he cannot fight back anymore, so he is using whatever he can as a last resort to keep the guy occupied with him, and keep him from going after Im Sol. Seon Jae could perhaps guess Im Sol would arrive any time since the cliff was where he'd found her earlier, sitting in shock. But even if she didn't make it, you can bet he'd have spent his last breaths trying to fall off the cliff taking the guy down with him. THIS SCENE. The resolution is so clearly etched on his face.

And then he sees her. And the detectives. She is safe. She is saved. He did it. He saved her. And it's the Im Sol who knows him, who recognizes him, who loves him. She is safe, and that's all that matters. He saved the person he loves more than his life, literally.

His job is done. The choice he made gave him the outcome he wanted and desperately fought for.

And he is exhausted. All that resolve took a lot out of him. So we see his body finally giving up, him finally letting go. He resigns to his fate, but also not in a resentful way. He knew this was his fate all along (because no matter what choice Im Sol made, he'd choose to run toward her any day), it just happened earlier than expected. But he knew it, and he still made that choice. He doesn't regret it because he'd be making the same choice in every timeline (as he has been). He is able to see his Im Sol for one last time before his eyes close, with memories of their time together and Im Sol's voice echoing in his ears, his soul.

Sometimes you know the consequences, but make the same choice anyway. Because you like it.

The faint smile on his face in his final moments before he falls off the cliff? You'd think the boy won a gold medal for swimming or something. It's like he's achieved the biggest purpose there was in his life besides loving Im Sol. True to his words, he is grateful Im Sol exists in the world. That he got the chance to love her because she exists in this world. And he is thankful he gets to leave the world knowing Im Sol still exists in the world, his gift from the heavens.

One is jumping through space and time, living the same nightmare, constantly, over and over again, and yet going out of her way to save her love. Even if it means carrying the trauma and heartbreak and pain and loneliness and longing of three, four, multiple timelines, for the same guy. The other is making the choice to love her through all the storm, all the warnings, all the odds of time and space and fate stacked against him. How could you be so brave when fate is both so very kind and yet so extremely cruel to you no matter what you do? How do you choose to persevere? How do you get to have a love so pure?

Should I be ready to die if I want to be with you? - Ryu Seon Jae

[ravenzia]

— 𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢 — 🔞 (𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭!𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

˚₊‧꒰ა Me and Your Mama - Donald Glover ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝚊𝚛𝚝: 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚜𝚊𝚔_𝚔𝚊𝚣𝚣 𝚘𝚗 𝚡

— ☆ —

You and Hiromi work at the same company. It‘s safe to say you see each other often, wich led to you taking a liking to him. Today you both are stuck in a meeting, the only entertainment being you both texting back and forth under the table.

A smile grows on your face at the things he makes you feel and the idea he just gave you.

Your eyes wander around the room, trying to find something more interesting than listening to this boring as hell meeting you’re stuck in.

Your phone vibrates in your lap, catching your attention immediately. You pick it up and take a look, a message waiting to be opened.

You quickly unlock your phone and click on the chat, realizing it’s Hiromi.

Hiro: can’t wait to get out.

A small smile tugs at your lips at his message as you type back.

You: suddenly paperwork sounds appealing 👏🏼

It was true, it did sound more appealing than this.

You sigh when another message from him pops up,

Hiro: I‘d do anything to get out of here.

You glance up at him across the table, noticing how he lets out a breath while staring down at his phone.

You watch him a moment longer until you get a interesting idea.

Your hand goes up and you excuse yourself, saying you need to use the restroom.

Getting up, you feel his eyes on you as you leave the room. Once in the restroom, you walk towards the stall in the very back and step in, closing the door and taking a seat on the closed toilet.

A rush of excitement rushes through you at the thought of what you’re about to do.

Without overthinking it, you slowly start to unbutton the first few buttons of your white blouse until your bra is clearly visible.

Looking down at yourself, you feel your cheeks start to warm up. Not believing you’re actually doing this.

Your hand reaches for your phone and positions it in a high angle after opening the photo app.

Five minutes later you’re back on the chat with Hiromi,

You: still bored?

Not even one minute later he replies.

Hiro: yeah.

You bite your lip and open your gallery, selecting one of the few pictures you just took and send it to him.

You: maybe this helps?

Without realizing it, you start chewing on your lower lip when you see he opened the message but didn’t reply.

Of course he wouldn’t, what were you thinking?

You continue to sit on the toilet for a few minutes, silence lingering in the air around you.

Maybe your idea was stupid, but you can’t help feeling some kind of thrill because of it.

Suddenly, someone walks in and you hear footsteps approaching the last stall. Your stall.

The door slams open and your eyes widen when you take in who it is.

Hiromi.

You gulp, feeling a small amount of embarrassment wash over you. You were at work after all.

He steps in, closing and locking the stall door behind him before his eyes settle back on you.

"Was it intentional? Or did you mistake me for the wrong person?"

Your heartbeat picks up when his eyes wander down to your open blouse.

"It was no mistake," you finally manage to answer.

His eyes meet yours again and they look more…hungry?

You press your thighs together, trying to ignore the wet feeling between your legs and the sudden heat spreading through your body.

Hiromi takes another step closer, slowly kneeling down to your level.

"Not as innocent as I first thought you‘d be, hm?"

You don’t answer that, you don’t need to. Because he already knows.

"What if someone beside me took a glances my phone and saw that picture?" His hands come to rest on the outside of your thighs and you swallow.

"So needy…" His hands slide down until they reach your knees. "What should I do about that?"

Slowly he pushes your knees apart, just enough for him to sit back on his knees between them.

Your breath falters, mind running all over the place.

"I don’t think I ever saw you as quiet as you are right now, what happened?" His hands reach for your hips and he pulls you forward until you’re sitting at the edge of the toilet seat. "Cat go your tongue y/n?"

"I‘m sorry I—" You suck in a breath when one of his hands moves underneath your pencil skirt and swipes a finger over the wet material of your panties.

"You‘re not sorry." His hand retreats, using both hands to push your skirt up to your waist. "I‘m not either."

He sits up on his knees so his body leans closer to yours, his big hands parting your legs further.

Seeing this side of him makes you feel all kind of things. In all those years you worked together, not even once did you think he’d storm into the women’s restroom just to look for you.

You knew he was handsome. Almost all women in the office eye him and chat with him. That’s why you held back, not wanting to interrupt any relationship, if he had any.

He doesn’t seem like the type to fall for things easily or use women just for his needs. That‘s why his reaction right now took you off guard.

His face comes down to your stomach as he looks up at you through his lashes.

At this point you’re all liquid and non-functional.

His head slowly dips down until he‘s between your thighs, gripping them tightly before throwing them over his shoulders.

"Never took you for this type of woman to be honest," He says as he presses light kisses along the inside of your left thigh.

With half lidded eyes and parted lips, you follow his movements.

"But here you are, all soaked…" He takes another glance at you. "Do you often think about me?"

Yes, you do. But you don’t want to say that out loud.

His kisses move up until he‘s inches away from your soaked underwear, his right hand coming up to swipe a finger over them.

You can’t help but let out a soft moan at the sensation, wishing he’d repeat it but on bare skin.

"Answer me." His voice sounds harsher but muffled.

"Yes…"

A hum is all you get before the thumb of his left hand pushes your panties to the side and his tongue swipes between your wet folds.

"Oh my god.."

His tongue moves up until it reaches your clit and gives it a gentle nib, making your head fall back.

"That‘s not my name, try again."

You can already feel yourself pulsating as he dives in deeper so his full mouth is on you.

"Fuck…" You whimper and reach a hand out to grab his hair.

While your fingers run through it, he moves back to your clit and sucks on it, making your legs twitch.

Soon after that you feel a finger swipe over your entrance before slowly pushing inside.

"Hiromi…" A moan escapes you again, your breath coming in short pants.

He gives a hum wich sends a vibration through you, your hips rolling forward to get more of the pleasure coursing through your body.

His finger starts to move, his tongue lapping over your clit and swiping down towards your entrance. Without waiting any longer, he pushes a second finger in.

You lean back against the wall and hold tight onto the toilet seat with one hand as the other tugs at his hair, your face flush and eyes closed.

You feel him moves his fingers in a scissoring motion to stretch you, his big nose hitting your clit.

His eyes open to take a look at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips when he sees your expression.

"You like that sweetheart?"

Your eyes open and meet his, your mouth still parted with only panting noises coming out of it.

His mouth leaves your pussy, his fingers continuing to slide in and out in a slow pace.

He‘s doing it on purpose. You know that. The first reason would be to savor your expressions and drink up your noises, and the second to punish you for sending him that picture.

Just as you were about to fall over the edge, he pulls his fingers out completely, earning a whimper from you.

"No…please…"

If you never heard him chuckle before, you do now. The fingers he used inside of you are now in his mouth as he cleans them from your juices.

"I‘m not going to fuck you."

A small pause.

You frown with the last strength you had left. "What?"

He gets up to stand, his eyes taking you all in.

With quick movements he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants but doesn’t pull them down yet.

"Get up."

You do. You stand on weak legs, hair messy from rubbing against the wall.

"Turn around and put your hands on the wall."

You do. Turning your back to him and leaning your chest forward until you’re pressed against the stall wall, your hands coming underneath you as you rest them on the wall as well.

"Why don’t y-" A hiss leaves your throat when hot flesh rubs against your soaked folds.

His chest leans down to press against your back, his hands gripping onto your hips tightly to keep you from moving.

"You wanted to say something?" His mouth is close to your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

He uses his wider stance to push your legs together until you stand normally.

"What did you want to say, hm?" He asks as his dick pushes between your folds with a little more force, earning a gasp from you.

His hips move slowly, his dick gently rubbing against you, eventually hitting your swollen clit.

"Fuck…" You moan under your breath.

"Imagine how it would feel if I was inside,"

You moan at that thought.

"So tight and warm," He presses a gentle kiss on the side of your neck.

"Would you like that sweetheart?"

You would. And how you would.

A shiver runs down your spine when the tip of his dick runs over your clit again and you arch your back.

The movements of his hips pick up and he applies more pressure to get more moans out of you.

The right hand that was on your hip moves up to cover your mouth and pull your head back against his chest.

"Shh…you’re going to make people think someone is stabbing you in here because of how much you moan." His voice is low and quiet against the shell of your ear.

Your eyes roll back when his dick slides just right again, your legs starting to shake from the pressure forming in your abdomen.

He notices and keeps his pace for a moment longer until he sees you‘re about to come undone.

Thats when he stops.

"Hiro…" You cry out against his hand, tears gathering in your eyes from frustration.

"You wanna come sweetheart?"

No hesitation, no thoughts. You nod hard as a tear rolls down your cheek.

His hips start to move very slowly again and his hand leaves your mouth, sliding in between your legs to circle your clit.

"Fuck Fuck Fuck…" You pant out loudly, back arching further against his chest.

His fingers move faster and your vision starts to blur from how close your are.

With one more hard push of his hips and pressure of his fingers, you finally fall over the edge with a high pitched cry.

Before your legs could give up, his hands wrap around your waist and hold you flush against him.

"Good girl." He whispers in your ear and gives your earlobe a nib before pulling away and turning you to face him.

You‘re a complete mess, face red, hair disheveled, eyes heavy and mouth parted to catch your breath as if you just ran a marathon.

His thumb wipes the mascara that smeared down your cheek and he looks at you with satisfaction.

"Next time you send me something like that again," He starts, his eyes sizing you up. "I‘ll make sure you won’t sit for two weeks."

You gulp, slowly coming back to your senses when you realize he started cleaning you up and pulling your skirt down.

"You can get me next time," He looks you up and down, hoping you got the message. "Now let‘s get back. I‘m sure the meeting‘s long over."

[ikeubi]

i bet on losing dogs 🕷 jake sim

📰 t͟h͟e͟ ͟o͟n͟e͟ ͟t͟i͟m͟e͟ ͟j͟a͟k͟e͟ ͟f͟a͟i͟l͟e͟d͟ ͟t͟o͟ ͟s͟a͟v͟e͟ ͟y͟o͟u͟.͟ spiderman!jake 𝔁 fem!reader  ╱ inspired by gwen's fall in tasm ; major angst, (descriptions of) character death, and overall the regular mcu warnings

Jake Sim never turns his back on a promise he's made.

When you first found out he was New York City's Spider-Man, he swore to you that he'd keep you safe from the dangers that came with being associated with his masked persona.

Out of all the promises he's made, that was the very last one he wanted to break.

Yet here he was.

The masked boy was high on adrenaline as he chased after the villain Goblin among the multitude of buildings in the city.

His energy was beginning to wear off until Goblin tilted his glider to the side for the shortest bit of time, which was more than enough for Jake to catch your hair peeking out along with the look of horror seen in your eyes as the villain's gloved hand kept you from screaming.

The vigilante swung past the buildings faster and faster.

One building.

Another.

And another.

This went on until his enemy maneuvered his glider to the top of a clock tower, Jake making his way up with great speed.

For whatever reason it may be, the Goblin just hovered merely a foot away from the masked hero's spot on the tower, his metallic green mask covering the glances he took at the overly daunting, deep inside of the structure.

Jake eyed his movements nervously and with hesitation, his gaze going back and fourth between you and the villain.

You felt the hand clasped against your mouth move to cup your cheeks as the man's laughter boomed.

"What are you waiting for, spider boy?" you heard him taunt as he moved your face from side to side.

Your gut filled with dread about what the Goblin had up his sleeve and shifted your gaze to the hero clad in red and blue.

Jake seemed to be sensing that something about to happen was even worse than the present situation as he shifted to a more alert position, eyebrows furrowed behind his mask.

"Come and get her," he continued before swiftly pushing you off his glider.

Jake's eyes widened as he immediately followed your trajectory into the tall clock tower. "No!" he screamed as the Goblin's menacing laughter echoed through the nearly hollow space.

Jake despises how time painfully slowed down in these moments. Your last moments.

He hated how everything was clearer, how he could focus on the horror displayed on your face and the tears falling from your eyes for a seemingly longer period of time as you plummeted through the tower.

But he could save you, right? He's done it a few times before, and not once has he failed. What makes this life and death situation any more different?

You wanted him to save you. But time wasn't in your favor, nor did it slow down. You didn't have the pleasure of thinking positively and only of what was overt. And you were quite sure of one thing.

Jake Sim couldn't save you this time.

Death never scared you. The only thing that did was the thought of no longer being able to have dreams for your future with Jake, as well as being able to live them.

You didn't want to start fearing the pain. And so you closed your eyes for just a moment, and thought.

You once heard that when you die, the brain stays active for a final ten minutes, letting you relive the most memorable moments of your life. It brought you comfort thinking that you'd get to see Jake smile for a final time, because it wasn't just a hunch──you knew that those last ten minutes would be a period of time that the boy you loved purely consumed.

And so you opened your eyes.

The wind whistled past your ear, and you had a feeling that sooner or later, you'd be reaching the bottom of the building.

You sent one last painful smile towards your masked lover and mouthed the words you knew he would need to hear.

It's okay. I love you.

Jake's eyes pricked with tears as he read the words coming from your lips.

Realizing his pace wasn't going to meet yours soon enough for him to use his arms to save you, he extended his web shooter wielding arm and prayed as he pushed his middle and ring fingers down on the button and as the web formula shot out and clung to your sweater.

Time returned back to its normal speed. Jake thought he saved you and subconsciously smiled to himself.

That was until he heard it.

Crack.

Jake's face dropped as he watched your body go limp under his web, mere inches away from the ground.

His hands trembled while he pulled the white string back to hold you in his arms as he landed on the ground.

He quickly took the mask off his head and scanned your face for the slightest of twitches, searching for a sign that you were still alive.

"Y/n," his voice trembled as he shifted on his knees, hand pushing your hair back before using two fingers to check the pulse on your neck.

"No," he muttered to himself after a few seconds, unable to find a pulse.

Teary eyed and refusing to give up, he reached for your wrist to try and see if he could feel the pumping of blood from there.

Still none.

Other wrist.

None.

Chest.

None.

Maybe he can check your breathing?

No. None.

Stop.

Jake pulled back slowly after it sunk in that you really weren't breathing, that you really didn't have a pulse, and that he was really unable to save you.

His eyes rimmed with tears as he watched the color drain from your face against the deafening silence of the night's aftermath.

"No," he shook his head before shaking your figure.

"Y/n, wake up,"

"Come on,"

"No you're not dead. You're not,"

A cycle of words of denial continued until the dam finally broke and his tears rolled down continuously.

His sobs echoed through the clock tower. He couldn't let any more words out. His chest hurt and so did his throat.

As he broke down for possibly the first time in his life, the only thing he could think to do was hug your figure.

He stayed like that until dusk turned to dawn.

You were the one person Jake would've traded the world for just to keep alive.

And he'd never forgive himself or never forget how he kept the world safe in return for your life.

꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ mail !

i may have gotten a little angst crazy with this one.....but i still hope it was good! writing this hurt a little though, lowkey :(.

© ikeubi 2024 ✿ do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or translate a̲n̲y̲ of my work!

[btsbabe7]

Rain Does Not Fall on One Roof Alone

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x reader, Sebastian Sallow x reader

Warnings!: 18+, unprotected sex, death of a friend

Synopsis: After the death of a mutual friend, you and Ominis try to find a way to navigate life together in the aftermath.

Miniature droplets fall from their rightful place in the sky, meeting each other on the glass pane that separates you from the outside world. When they’ve gathered enough, they form together as one and trail long, squiggly lines down the length of your bedroom window. The piano downstairs hums a sad tune, perfect for accompanying the gloomy overcast of spring and the tears gathering in your eye ducts. On days like this, you can’t help but think about it all—your final battle with Ranrok, the loss of your dearest teacher, Professor Fig, and in his own stubbornness, your best friend, Sebastian Sallow.

In the months following the battle with Ranrok, Ominis remained by your side. He had been there before the battle, and now, he remained glued to you. He knew you’d fall apart on your own. Your muggle mother didn’t know Sebastian and your father had departed from your life at the age of eight.

You have no one else.

Your mother doesn’t know Ominis either, nor does she know that he apparates into your bedroom most days and nights. He simply lies beside you, cuddles against your trembling body, and wipes away tears that spawn from your nightmares of watching Sebastian being taken from your life in the worst way possible by Ranrok.

In your dreams, you warn Sebastian not to come, that even your ancient magic and practice may be no match for Ranrok’s power. You were never sure you could save him and the school. And each time, he doesn’t listen. He still stumbles into the final repository against your advice, thinking he can help. Each time his life is taken before you can react. Each time you let out an excruciating wail, flinging defensive spell after defensive spell in hopes of reaching his body in time. You want to reach him with just enough time to tell him how idiotic he is for trying to save you, to tell him that his stubbornness will bring you everlasting, excruciating pain, and lastly, to tell him that you’ve loved him from the start.

And each time, there’s never enough time.

There wasn’t enough time.

Some days you wish you’d turned him in for his uncle’s death because surely it’d be easier to see him behind the grim bars of Azkaban than to never see him again at all. You should’ve hugged him after it all. He was so scared, so shocked at what he’d done and of Anne’s reaction to it that he couldn’t process the repercussions. Ominis had known the moment you two both apparated back into the concealment of The Undercroft. He hadn’t given you much time to process it all, to help Sebastian get through it all. Ultimately, you decided that you couldn’t imagine a life where you’d have to travel to that dreadful prison to visit your best friend. He was far too young to be there, too young to have it eat him alive all alone, too young to have his life ripped away. Ominis simply agreed, though you know he only agreed because it was you making the final decision.

Ominis shuffles under the blankets beside you, bringing your attention back to present. His thick brows scrunch and fall flat, his eyelids twitch and his natural pink lips pull into a sheepish, childlike smile.

“Sebastian?” He chuckles innocently, softly in the safety of his dreams and your childhood bedroom.

Your lips quiver, nose scrunching against the burning sensation that overtakes it. It crinkles against the crocodile tears in your eyes and the loud sob that jolts Ominis from the peace of his dream.

“Y/n?” Ominis calls, his voice deep with sleepiness.

“I’m sorry for waking you. I… I—“

“Come here,” he whispers and pulls you down into his arms.

In the safeness of his arms, he pulls the blanket over your body and nestles you against his chest. You can feel the tears collecting against the softness of his t-shirt under your cheek, the feeling of his hand stroking soft passes over your curls, his voice telling you it’s okay to feel this way and that he’ll never leave your side until you tell him to.

“I can’t stop thinking about how it happened. How he was so stubborn until the end. How I had to witness it. How it still haunts me in my dreams, my nightmares…”

Ominis doesn’t say anything, but his pearlescent eyes stare straight ahead at your ceiling. You can feel his heartbeat begin to slow underneath you.

Shallow and deep.

Heartbroken.

A tear slips from the corner of his eye and disappears into the strands of his of his blonde hair.

“Try to remember him as he was during his best times. Perhaps in The Undercroft or in class. Battling together in Crossed Wands. Or when I’d met him and Anne when we were just children. Things would be so different had we not met you at all.”

You feel queasy. You’d never stopped blaming yourself for his death, but you didn’t know Ominis thought that way too.

“But had we not met you, Anne wouldn’t be cured,” he continues. “Sebastian would’ve driven himself looney searching for a cure. He wouldn’t want you to be sad. He’d want you to find happiness and be surrounded by friends and people who care for you.”

You hate that you’d rather have a cursed Anne over a dead Sebastian and for your own selfish reasons nonetheless. You hate that you’d rather search the entire Earth to find a cure with Sebastian going insane than to face the immense suffering of losing him forever.

“You’re my only friend, Ominis. The others don’t understand, they weren’t there. And what could they say besides, ‘sorry?’”

“We both lost him. Anne lost him too. And we’ve been sulking for a year now. Perhaps we should pay a visit?”

Your heart stops, stuck and frozen in time.

You both hadn’t been to the burial site since it all happened. Professor Weasley had commended Professor Fig and Sebastian on their ‘unmatched bravery and commitment’ to the school, and to you. You blamed yourself for it all, always. For the ancient magic you possess, for not saying no to Professor Fig when he accompanied you to your final battle, for not telling Sebastian how you felt earlier, and for not admitting that you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms at the end of it all.

A soft gasp slips from your lips and you hold Ominis tightly, letting out the lingering sobs the very moment you catch your breath again.

About an hour later, you find yourself walking down endless rows of gravestones. The warmth of Ominis’ soft hand in yours keeps you centered as a red light flashes at the tip of his wand—a beacon of sorts, which he used to navigate the corridors of Hogwarts, and now, the distantly familiar cemetery. Luckily, his wand remembers the way because in your own grief you’d both be lost for hours.

Ominis had asked you to help him into something nice, even asked you to tie his emerald tie to keep your mind off other things. Despite the set destination, he looked charming. His blonde hair combed back neatly and a teasing smile on his face as you sighed in frustration over the tie instead of in sorrow.

“This damned tie,” you’d muttered. “Don’t they have a spell to tie these things?”

“I’m sure you could find one in your rather extensive book collection.”

You’d scoffed at the sudden knowledge of him snooping through your room when you do finally fall asleep.

“Surely you’ll help me find one it then?” you sighed, thinking back to the time you’d first passed Ominis and Sebastian at the start of your fifth year.

Natsai had been giving you a tour when you’d spotted the duo at the base of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower. Sebastian had been chomping on the crispiest, crimson apple you’d ever laid eyes upon and Ominis toyed with an upside down book in his hands. You hadn’t known he was blind at the time, but it was an ongoing joke between the pair that you’d later be let in on.

“I will give it my best,” Ominis had laughed, putting an emphasis on eye-will like Sebastian would have.

You’d laughed for the first time in a year.

“Should be about here,” Ominis mutters, once again drawing your attention back to your current reality.

You stop short, your feet and heart weighing heavily on the wet grass beneath you. The soil underneath feels bouncy like walking on a trampoline. Something you were able to enjoy before you knew you possessed the power of magic, before you’d been sent away to learn how to control it. You hate to see him like this, something you can’t control—Sebastian tucked away neatly in the best coffin you and Ominis could afford, six feet under the Earth you both still tread on daily. You’d give anything to hear his laugh again, another sarcastic quip, to smell the embers of a lingering Confringo on his emerald, embroidered school robe when you’d follow him out of The Undercroft in the early mornings.

Tears flood your eyes again and deep grey clouds swim above your head, daring to squeeze out more heavy droplets. Daring to overtake you completely. But Ominis finds his way back to your side, immediately taking your hand in his again and slowly inching you closer.

He’d only stepped away for seconds.

“It’s alright, Y/n,” he whispers the moment the grave comes into view.

You have a clear view, the clearest ever. Just feet away, the headstone reads, Sebastian Sallow with a cursive epitaph engraved underneath that’s already begun to wither away from the constant rain, the general erosion of rock.

You want to cry.

You want to scream.

You want to curse Ranrok for taking the one person you loved the most away from you. Away from Ominis, and even Anne, who you know would have forgiven him with time had she not been denied the chance.

You all had been denied the chance.

And though you want to cry, nothing comes out. As if all your tears have run dry over a year of endlessly sorrow.

Ominis was right. Sebastian wouldn’t want you to be sad. He’d be happy that Ominis took you in, that you two still had each other in a world where people can become distant. He’d hate the idea of Ominis sleeping in your bed at night. Had he still been here and that was the case, he’d go on a jealous rant about how it should be him instead. You’d both laugh about it, then you’d invite both him and Ominis over for cuddles.

It should be him, but it’s not. And perhaps that means something too.

You lean onto Ominis’ right shoulder and he holds you tightly, resting his cheek against the crown of your head with a breathy sigh. You recognize it as an attempt to hold back the tears he only lets out at night, long after he thinks you’re asleep. Sometimes you pretend to be, knowing he’d say it’s nothing had he known you were actually awake. In those times, you scoot in closer and hug him a bit tighter.

You do the same now as an attempt to calm Ominis and to look away from the grave. You can’t bear the sight. You never could.

“Ominis,” you breathe, now looking over his shoulder at a plethora of unnamed graves.

There’s a chill here, but also a newfound sense of peace. These people are no longer in pain, no longer fighting the struggles of love and loss and life.

They are truly resting.

Sebastian is resting.

Sebastian is finally resting in peace.

You can feel it in the air. In the way a warm breeze sweeps over you, pulling you closer to Ominis. It whispers to you that it’s finally okay to move on, to accept that though Sebastian had been your first love, a love you only got to experience shortly, there’s much more love to be discovered.

You rub your palm over Ominis’ right shoulder, breathing in softly the moment you both gaze at each other. He looks perfect—tie still tied skillfully, his dirty blonde remaining neat, and his tears have dried as if in the same moment you both had the same realization.

“Y/n…” he starts wearily, hesitantly.

You hum in response and caress the side of his face.

“I—“

“I know, Ominis,” you finally breathe, nuzzling into him.

His brows fall in relief and in realization. A gentle smile pulls at the corners of his lips, one you haven’t seen except in glimpses throughout the year. In all the time Sebastian had been gone, Ominis had been there, even before. He’s never left your side and he never would. And you find nothing but comfort in his presence, something you’ve long craved, even before Sebastian.

“I crave you,” he says and takes a deep breath before pulling you in. “But I know I’m not him.”

You caress his other cheek, wiping his falling tears away with your thumbs before leaning in closer. His lips are right there—damp, pink and glistening even in the overcast.

“I don’t need you to be him. Just keep being Ominis.”

He chuckles nervously, “ I don’t think I could be anyone else.”

You nod softly, tears in both your eyes as he caresses the sides of your face and leans in the rest of the way.

It takes your brain seconds to realize you’re actually kissing Ominis because it simply feels like a dream, a distant one you’ve had before. Like déjà vu. But once you both deepen the kiss, you know it’s real, and it feels so right.

“We should go,” you whisper against him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Ominis presses back into you and you both drop your hands into each others. Within an instant, you’ve been apparated into your room, but you don’t need to pull away from Ominis’ lips to know. It’s the smell of blueberry pie slipping under the crack of your locked door and the familiarity of the mattress underneath your bodies.

You untie his tie effortlessly, then tug at the small buttons of his shirt until they come undone. You slip back from his lips, running a hand down his bare chest between you two as he sits up to kiss into your jawline. He untucks the hem of your shirt and plants his hands firmly against the bare flesh of your waist. You drop your hips completely with the overwhelming urgency to feel friction clouding your thoughts. Ominis mews softly underneath you, allowing his hands to travel further down until they’re planted firmly on your ass to guide your rocking hips back and forth. He’s never touched you this way, but it feels as if he has so many times. As if he should be more often.

He lies back as you reach for his belt and grins towards the ceiling sheepishly. You can’t get the view of him spawn out like this out of your mind, and like fuel to a fire, you both undress each other impatiently. Then, Ominis’ hands pine into your doughy flesh, caressing and rubbing all the right places as you grind against him. Part of you can’t believe the feeling of him hard against you. The other part that believes is starved for him, yearning to feel his length inside of you.

A perfect storm.

As Ominis works his briefs downward, your head begins to spin at the thought of having sex and you find yourself blurting the words before your mind can fully wrap around the thought.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

Ominis stops short, his reddened cock springing from the thin fabric simultaneously.

“Neither have I.”

You aren’t sure why you sigh in relief, but that’s how it feels when Ominis pulls you closer and takes your lips against his. He caresses the side of your neck with one hand, and with the other, he slowly glides the tip of his erection up and down your length until you both feel your petals unfold for him. A moan spills into his mouth as you take in the pleasure and mentally prepare for the pain you know is to come. But Ominis goes slowly, working the tip back and forth until you’re moaning and wet enough for his liking.

“Are you alright?” He hums against your parted lips.

“Mhm. I think I’m ready.”

He pulls you closer once more, until your bare breasts are pressed firmly against the flatness of his chest. And as he begins to press through your tightness, you bury your mouth into the crook of his neck. You feel the pressure first when he slips the head inside, his length following little by little. He lets out a soft breath at the feeling. In and back out, then in a bit further. It feels foreign, both painful and pleasantly pleasurable. And once you’re sure it’s in, he grips your hips and guides them flush to his groin.

You let out a helpless yelp. Clearly he wasn’t completely inside, but he is now.

“Still alright?”

“Mhm.” That’s all you can manage with your walls clenching around the girth stuffed inside you.

You sit up slowly, just enough to keep him stuffed inside as you do. With both legs on either side of him, you bring your palms to either side of the pillow beneath his head and begin rolling your hips back and forth. A deep groan escapes his parted lips and he keeping his hands on your hips as you ride him the only way you know how. His eyes are squeezed shut and his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth. And as much as he seems to be in heaven, he also looks as if he’s trying to concentrate on something. You don’t bother asking what, instead you come up a bit, close your eyes too and toss your head back towards the ceiling. You let all the pleasure and pulsating and your empty mind overtake you entirely.

After a minute or so, your body flushes hot and you perk up quickly. Ominis’ heavy breathing has turned into frantic pants. His grip on your hips had loosened to explore your body—your taut breasts, the hardness of your protruding nipples, the softness of your belly, the goosebumps that prickled against your arms and thighs at the bursts of sheer pleasure, but now they were tight on your hips again, almost cutting skin.

“Y-Y/n,” Ominis sputters shakily. “Think I’m going t—“

“Omi,” you interrupt in a sharp, sudden pant. You feel the very heat that’d started in your chest creep into the depths of your core. You tried to hold it back, tried to keep it at bay, but much like a tidal wave, it reappears and dares to wash over you. “Ominis!”

You mewl deeply.

You aren’t sure if he sensed it first, the tightening of your walls around him, but his nose and lips twitch violently at the feeling. He pulls you down suddenly and crashes his lips against yours wildly. His tongue presses into your mouth and you let out a loud moan against it. Trembling, you grip his bicep with your left hand and falter down to your right elbow. Your thighs shake as the violent wave overtakes you and leaves your tightening and shaking against his faltering thrusts.

Ominis’ name almost rolls off your tongue again, but with a violent hiss, he slips out of you immediately. You feel warm, sticky spurts against your thighs and lie down against his damp body. His heart is practically leaping out of his chest, the erratic beat thumping pummels against your right ear and his breathy pants fill your left.

You trace your fingertip over his left nipple and he shutters slightly, letting out a choked chuckle.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to stop,” he mutters once his heaving chest falters a bit. “You feel amazing inside.”

“Om…” you groan nervously, heat rising to your cheeks at the thought.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters softly and begins stroking your curls.

Silence falls over the room, aside from the pitter-pattering of the rain picking up on your windowpane again. You swear you hear thunder in the distance, but maybe it’s just the sound of your own heart.

“Sebastian should have been your first,” Ominis whispers out of nowhere. Your head shoots up and you give him a warning glance, and though you know he can’t see it, he must sense it. “I mean to say, he was in love with you. He’d told me once… one night after we’d snuck out of The Undercroft back to our dorms. ‘I think I’m in love with her,’ were his exact words. I can’t hold onto them anymore.”

You fight back the tears you feel forming in the ducts of your eyes and the heaviness of your weak legs.

Why would he tell you this now?

You pull your emotions together and lie against him again.

You think of Ominis.

You think of Sebastian.

You think of yourself.

“I believe you were meant to be my first,” you hum softly and trace the length of his collarbone. “With Sebastian, it would’ve been rushed, rough even. I’m happy that my first time was soft, gentle, and with someone who cares about me. Someone I love.”

Ominis’ heart skips a beat and his cheeks grow warm against your scalp.

“Perhaps it’s also time I admit that I’m in love with you.” He states it so softly that you’re sure you misheard. So, you prop yourself up to be sure.

“You’re in love with me?”

He takes in a deep breath to steady his heartbeat that’s begun to pummel in his chest again.

“I have for a long time, Y/n. From the start, though for Sebastian’s sake, I had to conceal it. I had no choice, he was my best friend.”

“We all have a choice,” you reply. “I wish I’d known sooner.”

“No,” he sighs. “It’s happened this way for a reason and it was meant to be this way. Not a second sooner.”

You take in what he says and analyze it. Had Sebastian been here, he’d fight Ominis to the death for your heart, that’s just the kind of person he was. Ultimately, it’d probably cost them their friendship or cost them yours. As for yourself, you know you wouldn’t have been able to choose between your very first love, one who’d kept you on your toes, and the boy who’d been there for you since the start, the one whose shoulder you knew you could cry on no matter how bad things got.

Ominis is right.

He’s always been right.

You cant bring yourself to say anything more and you’re sure Ominis is racking his own brain, thinking he’s chosen the wrong time to admit his love for you.

You kiss his cheek and pull your quilt up after draping your leg over him. You listen to his audible sigh of relief as you stroke your thumb against his jawline. You place a kiss there too until he gets the hint to bring his lips closer. Once he does, you caress the side of his face and press into him eagerly. And when he pulls away, you let out in a soft breath, “I love you so much, Omi.”

He straightens his head, resting it on the open palm of his right hand. His eyes are closed to the ceiling and his nose twitches softly. Your eyes follow the silent tear that slips down his face.

He smirks softly, then whispers, “I love you more than you’ll ever know. And thank you for being here through my worst times.”

With a soft smile, you both cuddle into each other. And for once, in over a year, you both fall into a deep sleep, full of nothing but happiness, with not a single tear in sight.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ Perfect Storm (m.) - Ominis Gaunt x reader

⚡︎ Untitled (m.) - Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt x reader

⚡︎ Coffee (Love You a Latte) - Sebastian Sallow x reader

⚡︎ For You Always (m.) - Severus Snape x reader

⚡︎ HP: November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

May 2024

[breakfastteatime]

Today's Fallen Order request is "Don't move" for @highbrasshighkass:

The sorry sound of BD’s warble tugs at Cal’s heart. “Don’t move, BD,” he says, trying to contain his own panic. “It’s going to be okay.”

BD believes in him with every single circuit in his frame, however he’d also really, really like Cal to figure this out a little quicker, because BD’s boosters are dead and the ground beneath him is very, very shaky, and if he falls into the river, he’ll be washed away into the sea, lost forever in the depths.

“That’s not happening.” Cal carefully works his way down the tree trunk, testing each limb before transferring all his weight. Unlike the trees on Kashyyyk, their Zeffo counterparts are scraggly and thin-limbed, and Cal doesn’t trust them to hold him, especially as he works his way down the cliff. But if he doesn’t get BD off that crumbling ledge soon, his friend really will be lost forever. Cal hasn’t felt the loss of his abilities this keenly in a while. If only he could pull BD to him. And if wishes were Venators, they’d all fly. “I’m nearly there.”

BD beeps apologetically. It’s enough to send some more clumps of soil tumbling into the river.

“Don’t move, and don’t talk,” Cal advises. “It’s okay. The stormtrooper who hurt you is history.”

BD stays still and silent.

Closer. Closer… Cal places his boot on a branch poking out the cliff and feels it dip, hears it crack. He curses under his breath. If BD falls, he can slow him –

Just like Prauf

– and then he’d just have to dive, grab him, and hope he can fight the current enough to get them back to dry land. He really doesn’t relish the idea of such icy waters, but he’ll do it for BD. They’ll just have to make a fire, dry out, then carry onto the next tomb.

Finally, he’s close enough to reach out and pluck BD off the crumbling ledge. He leans, leans, leans –

The root he’s clinging to gives. Cal cries out as he drops, only for his fall to stop when the root catches. He doesn’t hesitate, grabbing BD and pulling him close, just as the ledge crumbles to nothing, rocks falling into the racing river below. Cal pulls BD close. “I got you, buddy,” he says, swallowing hard against the crush of emotion. If anyone asks, it’s the icy wind making his eyes tear up. “Can you hold on?”

Another sorry beep from BD. That shock baton the trooper caught him with mid-scan really fried his systems.

“Not a problem.” One-handed climb it is. He tucks BD against his chest with his left arm and carefully scrambles his way up the cliff. By the time they’re on solid land, Cal’s right shoulder burns. He says nothing as he sits down, BD in his lap. “Will a system reboot help?”

It will, but it will take some time.

“Okay, I’ll get us someplace safe.” Cal looks around. They’re too far from the Mantis to go back, but they could take shelter in that crashed Venator, out of the weather and away from any patrols, before carrying on. “Let’s go.”

BD whistles with joy. And then, calmer, he thanks Cal for saving him.

“Anytime, buddy,” Cal says. “You’ve done the same for me so many times.”

And please don’t scare me like that again, Cal wants to say but instead settles for giving BD a pat on the head while holding him just that little bit tighter.

[charliehoennam]

beyond the badge pt. 1

a/n: request made by @harmonity-vibes. had been thinking about this specific plot for a long time and this lovely angel gave me the inspiration i needed. this will divided into three parts because it's simply too big lmao that's what she said. s/o to @strangergraphics-archive for the cute divider <3

pairing: david loki x f!reader

summary: his fianceé is abducted and a distraught david realizes some rules must be broken in order to save the one he loves.

warnings: 18+, dark themes such as language, violence, eventual smut, suicide, death, physical injuries, threats, abuse of power and blood.

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

What was once a home filled with love, laughter and passionate moans is now hollow and empty.

The haunting silence of the house only fuels his self-hatred. He can’t stop blaming himself because he knows, deep inside, that he could’ve avoided all this mess if he had only listened to you.

When a dead body showed up in the river by the old mill, David was quickly assigned the case. It might have taken him a couple of months, but he successfully found the man responsible for a such a horrendous crime.

The man was Frankie Donovan, a bus driver and self-made drug dealer. You would’ve never guessed by simply looking at the man, due to his scruffy appearance and uneducated demeanor, but he had successfully made around 500 thousand dollars from producing and selling meth.

It might not have been much to some people, but to a man who grew on the country skirts of Conyers, bouncing around from trailer park to trailer park and addict parents, that money was more precious to him than his own life.

No one would’ve believed that Donovan was capable of making so much money. Most people underestimated him either because of his job, his poor background or, what appeared to seem like, his friendly nature. He might have fooled many, but not David.

In the empty house that belongs to both of you, David stands in front of the foggy bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped his hip.

He stares at his stoic reflection and takes in the physical effects your absence has had on him. Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Hollowed cheeks from the loss of appetite. The prickly 5 o’clock shadow growing out that he refuses to waste time shaving.

The lingering heat from his hot shower constricts the air around him. He leans down to splash some cold water on his face, hoping that it will provide just a little bit of relief. Although the water soothes him on the surface, it fails to subdue him within.

He runs a trembling hand over his face to try and keep his composure, but he’s losing it. His breath shortens as the room spins around him. What feels like rocks settle in his throat. His chest tightens with rage until he finally explodes and punches the mirror before him repeatedly.

“It’s your fucking fault!” he repeatedly shouts at himself.

Dangerous shards shatter into the sink and onto the counter. David doesn’t feel it just yet, but blood drips from his knuckles over the shards. He takes a look at his hand. His fit of fury let out a bit of the steam that he had pent up inside him, but it’s not enough to make him better.

Nothing will make him feel better until you’re home, safe and sound. He promised he would always keep you safe and he feels like he failed you. There's nothing that can silence that thought in his mind.

Once he’s poorly rinsed and wrapped his knuckles with gauze to stop the bleeding, he drags himself into the bedroom that lingers with the scent of you and haphazardly chooses a few items of clothing. He doesn’t bother with the usual button-up shirt. A simple black thermal, a pair of pants and usual boxers. He tries to get dressed as fast as he can.

David hates being in the house for too long, but he tries to avoid the bedroom as much as he can. Not only does everything there remind him of you, but it’s all still the same as you left it before you went to work that day and he wants to keep it that way.

The uncertainty of the future fucking terrifies him. He doesn’t know if you’re alive, he doesn’t know if you’re hurt. His colleagues are doing their best to find you, but the fear he secretly has of you not coming home is ever present. So, he keeps the bedroom the way you left it to create a false sensation that you’re somehow still there almost like a ghost.  Like you're still coming home, even though he's not sure you will.

It’s been almost two days since you’ve been missing. The captain made it very clear to David that he could not, under any circumstances, take the case due to his close relationship to the victim. Being off your case drives him insane, but it’s not enough to make him stop looking for you.

He might not be able to professionally investigate, but it doesn't stop him from questioning the local thugs in the neighborhood about the recent kidnapping. After coming to a dead-end last night, he spent the rest of the night driving aimlessly, hoping he might find you somewhere.

He came home for a quick shower before resuming his illegal search for you. He’s tired beyond belief, but his mind can’t concentrate on anything else besides his missing fianceé.

Sat on the edge of the bed you used to share, he looks over at the engagement ring still sealed in a plastic baggie on your nightstand and reaches over to hold it in his hands. Letting his head hang low, he lifts his bloodied hand and holds his forehead in it. His head pounds as memories flood his thoughts.

When a call about an abduction came in from a co-worker of yours, David could feel his heart sink down to his stomach. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the thought that you could’ve been the one kidnapped scared him to death.

He is in another town, a more populated, small and neighboring town who’s courthouse Conyers was appointed to. David hadn’t been aware of the newly opened case until he made it back to his car and saw 3 missed calls from his captain.

When he arrives at your workplace’s parking lot, he climbs out of his car so quickly that he doesn’t even remember to close the door to take the keys out of the ignition. It all feels like a dream, like nothing is real, everything around his is far from touch and he’s floating through the air

“Tell me it’s not her,” he begs already fearing the worst as he marches towards the blockade of police officers preserving the scene.

“Loki, I’m sorry, but you can’t be here right now. I can’t let you through.”

O’Malley has to hold him up as David’s knees give in and sits him on the curb. Kneeling in front of him, he instructs David to breathe as the air thickens in his throat.

“I-I gotta find her, captain. I gotta-“

“What you gotta do is let us do our job, Loki. You can’t work on this case and you know why. Tell me what you know.”

The truth, at the time where he can barely remember his own name, is that he doesn’t know who could have taken you. He’d put away so many bad guys already and, just like the Keller-Birch case, kidnapping were becoming more and more often in the small town of Conyers.

David is in no condition to answer most of the questions that his boss needed to ask. At least, not right there.

“David, let’s go back to the station. We can talk better there.”

“No. I’m not fucking leave. I need to be here. I need to find her!” he insists, wide eyes locked on the scene as the forensic investigators search the area.

His watchful eye notices one of the investigators lift something up from the ground after taking pictures of the object. As the woman places the small item into a plastic bad to preserve for DNA or prints, he quickly stands on his feet. Despite the dizziness that strikes him suddenly, he pushes his way through the uniformed cops, but there are too many of them to hold him back from the scene.

“Get the fuck of- Let me go! That’s her ring! That’s my fianceé’s fucking ring!” he shouts at the investigator while being restrained.

She looks at O’Malley who nods and allows her to show David the evidence. Walking towards David, he finally calms down enough and complies in order to make sure it is yours. And, just as he fears, it is indeed yours.

His hands tremble as he looks at the plastic evidence baggie containing your engagement ring. He closes his eyes as dread floods his chest.

The ring is technically evidence and is actually supposed with the forensics team to process, but David stole it from the scene to bring it home with him.

Tears drip against the plastic. He just wants you to come home.

The buzzing cellphone he'd left on your nightstand snaps him back to the present. Quickly wiping his tired blue eyes, he looks over at the phone placed beside his gun and badge. The thought of taking his weapon to his head to end the agonizing pain and guilty flashes in his mind.

Before he finds the courage to reach for the firearm, his gaze drifts and lands on a book you had been reading when you were home and he recalls one specific conversation you had had one night.

“You got a strange call today on the landline.”

You’re sat on the bed with your back against the headboard and a book in hand.

“Yeah? What’d they say?” he asks lying tiredly on the bed beside you.

Lifting your arm to make way for him, he nestles himself into your side with his strong arms locked around your hips while his face nuzzles into your waist with closed tired eyes.

“I dunno. I mean, I do, but it was just strange,” you lower your book, combing the fingers of your free hand into his luscious brown hair. “The guy just said told you to call him back or you’d regret it.”

“Probably just a prank call, sweetheart. Nothing to worry about.”

“But they asked for you. They said your full name and they know you’re a detective. Isn’t that a bit too personal?”

“I’m a cop, babe. That information is public. Anyone can find that out if you know where to look.”

You nod and stay silent as you try to continue reading, but it’s unsettling.

“I’m just saying,” you start as David groans tiredly. “Why would someone call and threaten you? Not to mention you just recently closed the Donovan case.”

Rolling over onto his back, he looks up at you from his side of the bed.

“Babe, Donovan is a small-town meth head. He doesn’t have the balls to come after a cop.”

“It’s just a strong coincidence, David.”

A lightbulb goes in his mind. Finally, a lead he could work on. How the hell didn’t he think about this before?

He shoots up onto his feet to get dressed and, just after he slides his boxer briefs on, his phone buzzes again with another incoming text.

Due to his close relationship with you, O’Malley didn’t allow him to take the lead on the case. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but he knows the close relationship could impair David’s judgment. David’s already known for his temper and the last thing he needs is him risking the case because he didn’t follow procedure.

Instead, Chemelinski’s been assigned as the lead detective on the case. And, influenced by their close friendship, he’s ignored the direct and important order O’Malley had given him of keeping any new information from David.

The way he sees it, David’s a smart detective. If it hadn’t been for the close relationship, the case would’ve been his because he’s the only one that has solved and closed difficult disappearance cases like this.

“Evidence found at Penn Aire Motel, 46th and western. No vics”

“Didn’t hear this from me”

He wastes no time replying to his co-worker’s texts. His heart pounds with hope and adrenaline as his mind races with a thousand thoughts, wondering what kind of evidence they found. Even without a body or blood, assumptions can still be made based on the scene which is why he needs to be there.

Speeding in his car, his stomach churns contemplating what he might find once he’s there. He knows the procedure in case of dead victims. If you were dead, he would’ve already heard about it, so he’s hopeful it’s not the case.

As his car pulls up, O’Malley sighs already feeling the heavy headache setting in of having to deal with a distraught David.

“Who the hell told him?”

Chemelinski shrugs avoiding his accusing eyes, but mutters it wasn’t him as David quickly marches over to the captain, ducking under the yellow ‘do not cross’ tape with curious eyes scanning the scene to understand what’s going on.

“Loki, I told you-“

“I know, I’m off it. I know, I just wanna know what you found.”

David keeps a strong facade with hands up in surrender as O’Malley approaches him.

“You know I can’t share that information with you. You’re involved with the victim and it ca-“

“Yeah, I fucking know it can cloud my judgement! I know!” he shouts back.

O’Malley watches him take a deep breath to compose himself. He understands how stressful this is, especially for a detective.

“Captain, I-I’m losing my fucking mind. Please, j-just tell me something. I-I need something.”

He can’t ignore David’s pleading blue eyes or the crack in his voice. David’s a strong man who’s endured some of the most awful things life could throw at anyone. It takes a lot to scare him to this point.

He informs David that they’d tracked down the car from the location of your kidnapping. After identifying the vehicle with the help of local security surveillance footage, a dispatcher had ID’d it after receiving a call about an abandoned car in a rundown motel parking lot, just off the freeway.

No one saw you at the motel; the clerk working the desk that night said a man checked in alone, but a maid who had been getting off her shift mentioned she saw the man – who was staying in the room in question – putting something in the trunk of a different car before driving away in it alone.

The forensic investigation is still processing the scene, but the unit was able to find a small earring in the truck of the car, which was now in a small plastic bag labeled evidence in O’Malley’s hands.

O’Malley would’ve asked him if the earring was familiar, but the way David froze and stared down at the small accessory with swelling tears in his eyes is enough to confirm his belief.

He’d given you the beautiful jewel on your first anniversary. He remembers how happy you got when you opened the gift and saw the sparking, delicate pair in the small velvet box. His heart broke a little when you mentioned no one had ever given you jewelry before. You loved them so much that you wore them proudly every day to work.

He never thought he’d be the one having to identify a personal item of a victim.

“Y-yeah,” he sniffles blinking away his tears. “That’s hers.”

“We’re gonna find her, Loki. Loki!”

David can’t stand it anymore. The ring found at the site of the kidnapping and the newly discovered earring leads him to believe they weren’t left there on accident. He knows these are items you treasure more than anything and you would never take them off unless you were at home to avoid the risk of losing your precious accessories due to their sentimental value.

They’re breadcrumbs. They’re clues you’re leaving behind, calling out for him to save you. He needs to take matters into his hands.

[spicyspiders]

caught up in nowhere again

Temporarily ending my hiatus to post a story I've had written for a while (last September). I've debated on posting this story since I was writing it, but because I don't know when I'm going to actually come off hiatus, I decided to just go ahead and post it. Today is my birthday, so think of it like a birthday gift from me to you :)

This work contains themes of predator/prey, extreme dubious consent, Stockholm syndrome, and power imbalance. This story is dark, so please heed the warning and keep yourself safe. The reader is a captive of the Slaughter family and Johnny takes a special interest in him. The reader thinks that they have manipulated Johnny enough to escape, but by the end of the story, the line is blurred on who was in control.

“Where’re you going? And here I thought we had something special, darling!” He yelled after you as you ran. 

The sunlight burns your eyes when it hits them, but the feeling of it on your skin is almost euphoric. After not feeling it for so long, it almost makes you want to stop and bask in the glow, but you press onwards.

You swipe a hand across your teary eyes and continue running. Your legs quickly begin to ache after some time of not using them, but you push through the burn. 

Your feet thump against the ground, the sound is almost as loud as Johnny’s pants from behind you. When the sound becomes lighter in your ears, you take a minute to stop behind the cover of a tree. 

You put a hand to your mouth to try and quiet your pants, and once they’re under control, you use the quiet opportunity to look back. Your hand falls from your face when you don’t see Johnny, your body getting ready to run. 

Turning back, you freeze up again when you come face to face with the person you’re trying to get away from. 

“Caught ya,” Johnny says. 

You push your hands out to try and get him away when he comes closer, but Johnny is quicker. He easily dodges your hands and then brings one of his up to your throat and slams you into the tree. 

“You really got me goin’ boy,” Johnny says, his warm breath fanning across your face when he comes closer. His hips meet yours and the rest of your body hits the tree, the rough bark digging into your back. 

The hard line of his cock digs into your hip, and Johnny leans forward to bury his face in the crook of your sweaty neck after he pulls his hand away. He pants against the warm skin as he brings his hips back and forth to rut against your body. 

You want to reach your hand up to your neck to assess any damage done by Johnny’s tight grip, but you keep still. The only movement is of your chest as it heaves up and down to pull air into your lungs, nervous that Johnny’s hand will rise again to cut off the supply. 

Johnny’s chest too heaves as his hips speed up, the action broken by the groans he occasionally lets out. His teeth latch onto your neck where his hand just was to toy with the skin with his lips and tongue. 

“Johnny please, let me go,” you whisper. 

You of course already know what his answer would be, but the cruel laugh that accompanies the answer has anger flowing through your body. 

“No. Not when I finally get you like this,” Johnny responds. He says it like you’re school kids on the playground, and he was pining after you. But Johnny doesn’t get to pine, he gets to take whatever he wants, like he took you all those months ago. 

His voice echoes in your mind as you bring your hands to his shoulders and push with all of your might. 

Johnny stumbles back with a grunt and you quickly push yourself off the tree to get past him. You don’t even get the chance to take a step as Johnny is just too quick. His ankle goes between yours to trip you up and you fall to the ground with a pained noise. 

 You let out a yell when Johnny’s body brackets yours on the ground, his chest against your back. His hard cock now digs into your ass as he begins to rut at the new spot. 

“You’re not gettin’ away from me,” he growls into your ear as he grinds down. His tongue traces the shell of your ear, and you again try to move away from him at the feeling of the wet sensation. 

One of Johnny’s hands goes between your legs to cup his hands on your crotch, and you hear the man let out a tsk at the feel of your soft cock. 

Call it Stockholm syndrome, but you’ve had thoughts now and again of Johnny. You could admit that he was an attractive man. Under different circumstances, like not being the captive of his crazed family, you could see yourself reciprocating his feelings, but after you had learned of his feelings for you, you chose to use them to your advantage. 

Or so you thought. You thought you could manipulate your way out, but you only ended up with the man on top of you. 

“That’s alright,” Johnny says, pulling his hand away, “we’ll give it more time,” he presses his grin into your neck.

More time. The two words make your lip wobble as tears well up in your eyes, “Johnny, please,” you beg in a shaky voice. Your tears fall when your forehead hits the ground. The thrust of Johnny’s hips threatens to send your body up, but the tight grip he wraps around your hips keeps you in place. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Johnny murmurs sweetly in your ear, like he’s trying to comfort a scared animal. 

The thought almost makes a hysterical laughter well in your chest. Johnny wouldn’t be like that, in fact, he’d likely be the one chasing the scared animal off with laughter. 

He lifts up momentarily to get your body rolled over and settles between your legs. If he sees your tears, he ignores them and instead pushes a hand up your shirt. 

You shiver under his calloused fingers, and Johnny chuckles. Once your shirt is hiked up under your chin, your body exposed to the warm air, Johnny’s fingers are at his belt to open up his pants. 

Your eyes look to the sky when Johnny’s hard cock springs free. You flinch at the noise of Johnny spitting into his palm, and then the wet noise of his hand stroking his cock fills your ears. 

You close your eyes, just hoping for Johnny to finish quickly. Maybe you could use his tired, post-orgasmic state to try and run again. 

“Fuck,” Johnny says under his breath. His other hand goes back to your stomach to run his hand up your chest, “look at you,” he says in awe, “all laid out for me.”

One of his fingers goes to your nipple to run his finger over it. More tears leak from your eyes when his fingers pinch at the sensitive flesh. You clench your eyes shut as your body betrays you at the pleasure the sensation causes. 

“Like that?” Johnny questions. 

Your teeth sink into your lip to keep the noise that bubbles up when Johnny does it again. You breathe out harshly through your nose when Johnny moves to the other nipple. You feel a small amount of tension leave your body when Johnny pulls his hand away, only for the feeling to be back again at the sound of Johnny’s hand speeding up. 

A second after you hear the groan Johnny lets out, you feel the hot sensation of his cum hitting your skin. You have to ball your fists up at your sides to keep from wiping it away, but Johnny ends up doing the work for you once his noises of pleasure have subsided. 

Johnny’s fingers are on your stomach to wipe the mess into your skin, the salty tang of it in the air. 

You crack your eyes open when his fingers stop moving, your eyes still on the sky. Your breath catches in your throat when Johnny moves closer, his arms beside your shoulders. 

Johnny leans down to bring his mouth next to your ear, “you’re nearly as fucked up as I am,” he whispers into your ear. When Johnny uses one hand to palm your groin, he presses his wicked grin into the crook of your neck at what his hand finds. 

Your eyes widen when you realize you’re hard. You shake your head vigorously, “I am nothing like you!”

Johnny nips at your neck before pulling away, the smile still on his face, “you left them back there,” he nods in the direction of the house, “you could have gotten them out too.”

“You would have killed them,” you seethe. 

“See? You don’t even have faith in them,” Johnny responds, and runs his fingers along your clothed hard cock. 

The realization made more tears well up in your eyes. Here you were, after basically running straight into the arms of your captor, ripe and his for the taking. In truth, you didn’t even think about the others, your mind too focused on Johnny and trying to get out. 

He was all you were thinking about the entire time. 

The kiss Johnny presses to your lips is one you don’t expect. His lips are feverish against yours, moving enough for the both of you when you don’t respond. His tongue presses into your mouth when you gasp as he palms your cock again. 

Johnny moans into your mouth as his tongue meets yours. It’s a sound you never expected to hear, one that sends a hot flash down your body. 

Johnny pulls his tongue from your mouth and kisses a hot path down your body. You’re powerless to keep the noises at bay you tried to hide earlier when his mouth pays extra care to each of your nipples. You shiver as his saliva cools in the warm air once Johnny keeps going down. 

He’s quick to get your pants down and expose your hard cock. You glance down at Johnny and make eye contact with his dark eyes. Your eyes fall closed and your mouth falls open when Johnny takes the head of your cock into his hot mouth. 

Johnny sucks you down for as far as he can handle before he pulls back to swirl his tongue more skillfully than you expect around the head. You moan at the feeling of his hot tongue running over the sensitive skin. 

Johnny pulls off with a pop and pants wetly against the head of your cock, now shiny with spit. He runs his tongue along the vein at the bottom until he makes it to the base. He toys at your balls with the tip of his tongue before sucking one, and then the other when he pulls off, into his mouth. 

You’re shaking by the time he pulls away, a bead of precum dripping down your cock that Johnny eagerly licks up. When Johnny takes you back in, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit. The days had all blurred together since you had been taken by Johnny and his family. It was long enough to realize that Johnny had feelings for you and try to take over the situation, at least. Also long enough that when your orgasm hit, your back was arching off the ground and bright stars were burning behind your eyelids. 

You moaned into the air as wave after wave overcame your body. Alongside the noise, Johnny let out a groan of his own at the taste of your spend on his tongue. He kept sucking, even after you had started coming down, trying to get as much of the taste out as he could. 

You whimpered under the tight suction, one of your hands burying itself in Johnny’s hair to try and push his head off. The man pulled back and licked at his lips before swiping a hand across his chin to wipe up what had leaked from his mouth.

You laid back on the ground slowly. Your body hadn’t felt this lax since before these fuckers had taken you, and by the look in Johnny’s eye when he crawled back up your body, he wasn’t going to let you go. 

You surrendered to his kiss and let your body remain lax. Johnny let out another moan when his tongue met yours, and you couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran through your body at the taste on Johnny’s tongue. 

“Ready to go home? We’ve got work to do,” Johnny says, pushing himself up to go back. 

Work to do. That must be Johnny’s form of pillow talk. You hated that you thought that. 

You followed Johnny back under the warm sun that still sat high in the sky. Your footsteps had felt heavy at first, but had gotten lighter as you took each step. You weren’t sure if you hated that.

You weren’t really sure of anything. 

This work contains themes of predator/prey, extreme dubious consent, Stockholm syndrome, and power imbalance. This story is dark, so please heed the warning and keep yourself safe. The reader is a captive of the Slaughter family and Johnny takes a special interest in him. The reader thinks that they have manipulated Johnny enough to escape, but by the end of the story, the line is blurred on who was in control. 

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Charlie's corruption arc ✨😈

aka Broken Crown AU inspired by this post because I’ve been thinking about it intensively. So, I believe Charlie's villain arc would start with a great feeling of relief. Imagine: it's been a week since the final battle; it's been a week when Charlie hasn't been able to sleep at night. Others think she's still grieving, but the truth is different. Every night, Charlie cannot fall asleep because she's trying to cope with the relief she felt the second Adam died. She was the one who at first stopped Lucifer from finishing him, just because killing Adam didn't seem right. But when Niffty actually did it, despite everything, it felt right. It felt good.

After weeks (months?) of looking for a way to stop Adam from committing genocide against her people, after being bullied and humiliated by him, after witnessing how an unjust system enabled his despicable actions while ruthlessly punishing others for far lesser crimes, she finally, for the first time, felt like she had any agency. Just like that, her loved ones were finally safe. They could all breathe again, and all it took was a small act of violence against the person who fully deserved it. This realization changes her. While she doesn't intend to do such things in the future, she can no longer deny that exercising brutal power can be the best solution when dealing with certain kinds of people. This is the very first thing she hides from Vaggie. Not because she's scared of her judgment but because these ideas are so against her own moral values it is simply scary to put them into words.

Maybe I would be capable of killing someone in cold blood. Maybe I'll have to do it one day.

But Adam's dead, so they are safe, right? And she won't ever have to make a choice like that again. That's some reassurance.

And then, Niffty is killed by Lute. Just like that—Lute teleports to Hell by night and slaughters her in revenge because why wouldn't she? Who would have stopped her?

It obviously hits everyone hard—they just lost another friend. But Alastor? Alastor loses his fucking mind. He goes completely feral, yelling at Charlie and blaming her for everything.

What kind of incompetent fool shows their enemy mercy and lets them live long enough to get vengeance? I cannot believe I thought you could be a competent leader. You are just a fucking child. You are all a bunch of idiots.

Charlie goes through a complete meltdown because she knows he's right. If she had the guts to finish Lute or at least asked Vaggie or Lucifer to do so, Niffty would be alive. She's crying, choking on tears; she feels like a hopeless failure, but Alastor does not give her a break. He seems so infuriated she thinks he would kill her. Fortunately, Lucifer and Vaggie intervene. Lucifer puts Alastor back in his place by essentially beating the shit out of him. Vaggie takes Charlie out to calm her down. She insists that if it's anyone's fault, it's hers because she was the one who spared Lute, but Charlie knows that it's a lie. Vaggie would have killed Lute if not for Charlie's convictions. She fails, and she fails all over again, and it seems like she can't escape the evil. It's her responsibility to face it on equal terms. Otherwise, she won't be able to protect her loved ones.

After this incident, both Lucifer and Vaggie insist on kicking Alastor out of the hotel. He's too dangerous, too unpredictable. We can't allow him to treat you like this. We don't even need him anymore; there's nothing an Overlord can do that the King of Hell can't.

But that's not the truth. There's something Alastor can do that Lucifer can't: play the game. And now, grieving another of her friends, Charlie realizes she needs a teacher if she wants to stop pieces.

I have like 0 time to write the proper fic but I had to get these out of my system because holy shit I love coming up with elaborate plots I'm not able to execute. Maybe talking about it will somehow scratch the itch.

Also tagging @purrpleowl because she expresses her interest in this idea.

[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 6 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: It seems as though you’re not the only one who’d like to leave the past in the past.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7 |

________________________________________________

“Here you go, Jess,” I say, setting a cup on her table.

She looks up with a rare smile and takes it. “Thank you, Y/N.”

I nod in acknowledgment and take a sip of my own coffee. “So, what’s the boss up to?” I ask.

Jess checks her laptop. “Uh… I’m not so sure. She doesn’t have a meeting until 3, so I don’t know what she’s doing right now. I heard her on the phone while you were on your coffee run though.”

“So you think I can go in?” I gesture in the direction of Lena’s door.

Jess shrugs.

I take that as a yes and knock on the shiny white door before entering after a beat of silence.

“Ms. Luthor?” I frown. She’s not at her desk or on her couch. I step further into the office and look around the corner but she’s not at her bar either. “Ms. Lu—“

My words die in my throat when I see her hunched over on the balcony outside, her back turned to me. I quickly set my cup on her desk and go outside.

“Ms. Luthor?” I ask tentatively, a cool breeze hitting my face.

She stiffens for a second before turning around and that’s when I see it. The running mascara, her bloodshot eyes, and the dejected look on her face.

My stomach drops and I take a step forward. “What’s wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Lena just shakes her head, biting her lip to prevent a sob from escaping.

I take another step forward and tentatively reach for her. “What is it? Talk to me.”

Lena’s chin wobbles and more tears spring to her eyes, making my concern grow. She parts her lips to say something, but only a whimper escapes.

She rushes forward in the blink of an eye and throws her arms around my shoulders, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

Stunned, I hesitated to return the embrace, but then her body shakes with a sob and I can’t help but pull her closer.

“Hey, hey, hey…” I whisper against her temple. “It’s going to be alright. Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Lena claws at my clothes and breathes shakily. Her tears seep into the collar of my shirt, but I don’t mind. I just hold her close and let her feel what she’s feeling.

“My brother…” she whispers against my skin, her voice breaking with emotion. “He–“ I hold my breath in anticipation–“He escaped from prison.”

Well, shit.

“How?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around this new information.

Lena shrugs and lets out a strangled breath. “I don’t know, but he just called and– “ anther sob shakes her body and her grip on me tightens– “he said see you soon, sis before hanging up.”

An unmeasurable amount of anger floods through me and I grind my teeth to stop myself from storming off and dealing with that bald, good-for-nothing son of a bitch myself. Lena’s been through enough and now, thinking she was finally free of him, he comes crashing back into her life to do God knows what.

“I’m scared, Y/N,” Lena whimpers against my neck and it stokes my anger even more.

She’s one of the most amazing people I know. She’s smart, funny, and kind, and she doesn’t deserve all this shit life is giving her.

“Ms. Luthor.” I pause. The last thing she needs right now is a reminder that she’s a Luthor. So, I try something I haven’t done before. “Lena,” I say hesitantly, running my hands over her back.

Her breath hitches but nothing else happens, so I continue. “Lena, listen to me. I swear that as long as I’m around, your brother will not get anywhere near you. You hear me? I won’t let that happen. As long as I’m around, you’re safe. I promise. ”

Lena pulls back to meet my eyes while her arms stay wrapped around my shoulders. “You promise?” She sniffles and searches my face for any trace of a lie.

“No matter what,” I say, surprising myself in the process. I’ve never said that to anyone except Sam and maybe Ruby once or twice.

Lena’s green eyes flicker back and forth between mine before dropping to my lips for a split second. It’s so quick, I almost think I imagined it, but then she does it again.

My stomach flips at the action and I can’t help but mirror it. Lena seems to notice because curiosity and some hesitation flits across her face. Her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, but in the end she doesn’t act on her impulse.

Instead she exhales and closes her eyes, letting her forehead rest against my collarbone. “Thank you…”

I rub her back again and only pull back when she loosens her grip on me. She smiles sadly and I mirror it, using my thumb to wipe away the rest of her tears.

“Okay?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

She nods and runs her hands over her blouse to smooth it down. “Okay.”

After Lena’s breakdown I stayed in her office with her while she worked. Not only to keep her company but also to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s fine.

Sam stopped by a couple of times to ask Lena something about a business deal and gave me a knowing look every time she left.

Now I’m just getting out of the shower after a late night gym session. The whole time I was there, going to town on the punching bag, I pictured Lex’s face in front of me. That smug, ghoulish, punch able face. I will keep my promise to Lena. He will not touch even a single hair on her head.

I dry myself off and put on some sweatpants and a hoodie, going to the kitchen to make myself a protein shake. It’s the middle of the night and I already had dinner, but after the workout I just put myself through I’m starving.

I drink it in a couple of big gulps and place the empty bottle in the dishwasher before going to bed. I know I won’t be getting much sleep because my mind is working overtime right now, but I have to at least try to get some shut eye.

I turn off all the lights and shut the open window, slipping under the covers of my bed with a sigh.

How did Lex manage to escape from prison? I thought something like that was only possible in books or movies. Well, looks like I thought wrong.

I go over the extra security measures we put in place for Lena, ranging from several more cameras around her buildings to extra guards stationed outside her apartment building.

The chances of anyone getting past all of that are basically zero. But then again, the chances of escaping from prison nowadays are also basically zero and Lex Luthor has managed to do exactly that.

I toss and turn as sleep continues to elude me, until my phone lights up on the nightstand. I sit up and grab it, not knowing what to expect.

It’s Lena.

My eyes widen and I quickly accept the call.

Did something happen? Is she hurt? Is it Lex? Did he manage to get to her?

“Lena, are you alright?” I blurt out, foregoing any pleasantries.

“I— Yeah, I’m alright…” The reply is quiet and soft. I exhale, relieved, and sit up so I can lean back against the headboard.

“Then what is it?” I ask gently.

There’s a pause at the other end of the line and I take my phone away from my ear to make sure the call hasn’t disconnected.

“I can’t sleep,” Lena admits with a sniffle. “And I’m scared, Y/N. I’m so scared.”

The thought of her being alone in her dark apartment, scared and crying has me getting out of bed immediately. I turn on the light and put Lena on speaker while I grab an empty duffel bag from under the bed.

“I know, I know. Just hang on. ” I shove a change of clothes and some toiletries into the bag. “I’m on my way.”

“W-What? No, you don’t have to do that, Y/N.” Lena tries to reason, but I’m not having it.

I shake my head even though she can’t see me and zip up the bag. I sling it over my shoulder and slip on my shoes by the door, leaving the apartment to hail down a cab outside “Nonsense. I told you I’d be there whenever you need me.”

“I…Okay.” Lena gives in with another sniffle. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” I say. “Now, do you want to stay on the phone with me, or is it okay if I hang up?”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Lena denies and I assure her once more that I’ll be there in no time before hanging up to tell the cab driver where to go.

When I get to the apartment building the security guard by the door nods in acknowledgment and lets me inside without a word.

I ride the elevator up to the top floor and get out, using my keycard to open the door to the familiar apartment.

“Lena?” I call out into the dark. “Where are you?”

A lamp turns on to my right and if it weren’t for my concern I’d have been startled.

Lena’s sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her face is makeup-free and she’s wearing a matching set of blue striped pajamas.

“Hey,” I say softly, taking off my shoes before crossing the room.

Lena’s vulnerable and bloodshot eyes meet mine and she mumbles a tired, “Hi.”

My insides melt and I stop in front of the couch with open arms. Lena gets up immediately and sinks into my embrace. I sigh and rest my chin on the top of her head.

“Thank you for coming,” she says again my chest.

I squeeze her in my arms and guide the two of us to sit down on the couch without breaking the hug. “Always. Now, how about we watch a movie?” I ask.

Lena wiggles around and shifts her blanket so it’s covering both our legs before settling back into my side. “Yes, please. Can we watch Titanic?”

I chuckle and grab the remote, turning on the TV to find the movie. “Sure.”

Once I’ve found it and hit play, I settle back into the couch and start drawing shapes onto Lena’s back. She seems to like it because she lets out a content sigh and rests her head on my shoulder.

We watch the movie in silence for quite some time before I look down to see how Lena’s doing. That’s when I notice that her eyes are closed and her breathing has shallowed. She’s asleep.

A small smile makes its way onto my face and I turn down the TV’s volume to make sure she doesn’t wake up. Then, my mind finally at peace now that Lena is okay, I close my own eyes and let sleep overcome me.

The sound of my phone buzzing wakes me up. I blink repeatedly and go to sit up to take it from the coffee table but then I remember where I am and who’s soundly asleep on my chest.

Her dark hair is everywhere, some stands of it are even on my face which I gently brush away as I stretch to get my phone without getting up.

Harper.

I freeze. We haven’t spoken since my dad kicked me out and I know it’s because she still blames me for Noah’s death.

What could she possibly want now? Blame me some more for her fiancé’s death? My baby brother’s death?

I send the call to voicemail and put my phone back down with a growing lump in the back of my throat.

Stop, this is not the time to cry.

I take a shuddering breath and squeeze my eyes shut. My hand instinctively reaches up to stroke Lena’s back and I do my best to push my emotions down.

It doesn’t work as well as I hoped it would though because a few moments later, Lena stirs. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, adjusting to the brightness for a moment. Then, in no hurry to get away from me, she places her hand on my chest and lifts her head.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asks quietly when she notices my watery eyes and my shaky breathing.

I quickly use the hand that’s not on her back to wipe at my eyes. I clear my throat and smile as best as I can as I lie and say, “Nothing, sorry. Just a bad dream.”

Lena furrows her eyebrows, obviously not believing what I just said. Her eyes dart between mine as if she’s trying to find an honest explanation in them, but it seems she comes up short because she sighs and averts her gaze.

She sits up, much to my dismay, and runs her hand through her. “What time is it? We have to be at the office at ten. I have an interview schedule with Kara about my brother’s untimely prison break.”

She seems exhausted if the bitterness in her voice is anything to go by. I know it’s not because of Kara though. She’s honestly one of the sweetest people I know, and she’s an even better reporter.

I check my phone for the time, only for it to start buzzing again right as I pick it up. This time no one’s calling though. It’s a reminder I set after my meltdown at Sam’s.

All it says is Noah with a flower bouquet emoji next to it because I want to put flowers on his grave the day before the actual anniversary of his death, so I don’t run the chance of crossing paths with my parents or Harper.

I hastily try to swipe it away because I don’t want Lena to see, but when I look up her eyes are glued to my phone. Then, they snap up to meet my own and the hurt in her eyes makes my insides twist.

“Who’s Noah?” she asks and the fact that she pulls away completely and stands up with betrayal written all over her face tells me that she’s completely misreading this situation.

Shit. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

________________________________________________

Here you go, guys!! Wow it’s taken me forever to write this. Thanks for bearing with me… (Proofreading will be done over the course of the next couple of days)

Anyway, here’s the tag list I’ve been asked about:

@nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy

[yandere-paramour]

First Time with Vivien - Part 2

You pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on him, answering his question without words. Vivien returns the kiss, reaching down to circle your hole a few times before trying to push a finger in. Your orgasm has considerably relaxed you, and with a generous amount of lube and some patience, he is able to get two fingers inside. He peppers your face in kisses, asking you to please "Relax for him" and let the tension leave your muscles as he works to stretch you gently. As much as he would like to feel your tightness wrapped around him, your comfort comes first.

When he is able to fit three fingers inside with little but a twitch of mild discomfort from you, he deems you ready. He puts on a condom (that was a non-negotiable for you) with a quick and practiced motion, also taking the liberty to slather himself with lube, just in case. Pulling out a smaller pillow you never noticed he had, he wedges it under your hips for a better angle.

He rolls over on top of you, his cock safely nestled between you two. He uses one hand to position himself and ensure proper aim, and the other to keep his body weight off you. He asks if you're ready, looking you straight in the eyes. He wants to watch your face as he enters you.

When you confirm your readiness, he gives you a quick kiss and slowly starts to push inside. Vivien stares at you as you throw your head back, moaning. Judging by how much his instincts wanted this, he knew it would feel good, but he never expected how warm you would be, how wet and slick it would be, how tight you would feel around him. No desperate middle-of-the-night thrusting into his own fist, no pocket pussy, no wet dream that ended with him awake, sticky, and yearning would ever compare to this, being nestled firmly within his Darling, his angel, his sweetheart, the reason he finds the courage to face the world each day.

The thought of this brought tears to his eyes, and a few ended up rolling down his face to splash onto your chest. This is all so much for him and he doesn't know how much more joy his heart can take. He licks the tears away, the two salt solutions mixing into a briny fluid he will never get enough of.

His thrusts start slow and gentle, but soon he can't take it anymore. The soft, loving strokes turn fast and deep, and you can feel every one of his seven inches. Whenever he pulls back, at least one inch of him is sheltered safe and sound inside of you at all times, making sure he can use his hands to stimulate you or hold your hand, whichever he thinks is best. This is what he needs, the stimulation he craves, and from the looks of your moaning and the way you lock your legs around his waist, you needed this too.

He babbles like a fool, telling you how sexy, how divine, how you were perfectly made to fit his cock, just like a lock and key. He spills about how long he has waited for this, and how all those nights following you home to make sure you got inside safely were worth it. He tells you he would die and kill for you, and that anyone who threatened you would die an agonizing death. He swears on his life that he will be a loving and attentive and selfless lover and husband to you, and his tears fall down his face with the rhythm of his hips as he fucks you with everything he has.

Vivien is a healthy young man with incredible stamina. His balls are heavy and swollen, aching to finally get some release, but he won't allow it. He angles himself perfectly to hit the sweet spots inside you, ensuring that you come on his cock at least twice before he gets anything for himself.

When he's ready, it only takes three deep strokes for him to explode. He lets out a strangled moan/shriek as he comes, trying as hard as he can to empty himself deep inside you. You were serious about the condom and he respects that, but that doesn't mean he can't fantasize about your belly swollen with his child. His seed is white and thick, and he produces so much that the condom is almost full to bursting. A quick feel below his shaft begets shock on your end; he's still not empty after all that.

He is careful when he pulls out; he knows after all that vigorous activity that you might be sore. He gently extracts himself from the condom before tying up his swimmers and rolling them under the bed with suspiciously crusty socks to deal with later. He is covered in sweat and still breathing hard, but the hearts in his eyes are firmly trained on you as he lays next to your tired form.

He cups your face in his hands, trailing his fingers over all the marks he made. With tears in his eyes, he asks if he hurt you, if he should've been more gentle for your first time, if you enjoyed it. For the 70th time, he thanks you for the opportunity, but this time, looking up at you with watery, pleading eyes, he adds something about hoping to receive the opportunity again someday.

His face lights up when you say yes, and more tears run down his face. He snatches another condom from the 36-ct box on his nightstand and rips it open with his teeth.

This man, the man you love, the man with hair pointing in every direction, your fluids dried around his mouth, and his cock starting to stand at attention once more. He is looking like that feral animal once again, like a beast ready to flip you on your stomach and take you from behind. Then he gives you that hopeful smile, and he is Vivien again, and he asks "How about now?"

You are covered in marks that will be difficult to hide from coworkers, leaking so much lubricant that it is starting to pool onto the new sheets, and worn out after three orgasms back to back. You want nothing more than a hot bath and some sleep, but something in those worshipping red eyes that look at you only with adoration makes you say "Yes."

[burning-academia-if]

Okay, okay, I need to add one to these asks about a MC who acts different in intimacy than in day to day life... sort of.

In this case it's a "MC doesn't act truly different, but still not what I expected" sort of stuff (well, unexpected to some ROs, at least).

And that would be a MC who is normally very flustered and shy and easily teased, including during "regular flirting". But then once actual intimacy comes, well they are still meek and sweet but not so flustered or teasable anymore, because they are at their most vulnerable and they know it, and since they let it go that far, they basically trust the RO so fully that in such a situation said trust makes them just soft and more open and teasing them doesn't work anymore cause they are just that confident the RO wouldn't do anything "against" them (which includes harmless teasing and other stuff like that which could fluster them normally).

Rook: He doesn't deserve this trust. It leaves him breathless, when he sees the calm in your expression, and how he reflects in your eyes. He doesn't know how to go on, the first time he realizes. It makes him want nothing from you, because you trusting him is already more then enough.

Beck: He's more sure now, expression brighter. You never thought of him to be one to doubt himself, but maybe he was, or at least holding himself back. Now, he whispers 'I love you' with his entire heart, forehead leaning against yours. He's finally earned your trust. He'll do anything to keep it.

Rhea: She figured it'd be a hard won trust, considering where the two of you started. But when she feels the shift, the moment you decide this is ok, that you're safe with her and safe to be vulnerable with her, makes her reach for you. She wants to thank you, for letting this happen between you two and for opening up to her. But she can't finds the words, so she only holds you close.

Zoe: When they notice the subtle shift, any fidgeting of their's stops. They see the ease and comfort in your gaze, and realize you trust them. Even like this, as they are, you trust them. There's a slow, small smile, and they rest their head against your shoulder. A peace settles over them.

Lars: This is the moment when you decide to trust him? Very few things ever give him pause, but he doesn't think he's ever seen someone look so open with him before, especially in an intimate moment. He knows "intimacy", but this is different. He'll figure out the difference later, but for now, he leans into it. He doesn't not want you to feel this way around him, after all.

???: It's foolish to trust them, but they like to think in moments like this they are trustworthy. You know they won't harm you, you know they'll never cross any lines, you know at the very least, the love they have for you is genuine. They savor it, the way the timidness melts away into something more sure. If there's anything you can trust, it's in these moments they have with you

[rexmeshlasblog]

Give up?!

Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader

Summary: Jedi Reader wants to train during shore leave, ‘cause she got defeated by Ventress on their last mission. Commander Wolffe offers himself as her sparring partner.

Word count: 1700 words

Warnings: feelings, fluff, battle, fighting, war, use/mentioning of guns and war stuff, use of Y/N, Female MC, mentions of loss, intimate moment, cuteness, sexual tension, flirting, teasing, scared of losing in a match and losing people, bit angsty maybe?, Canon typical violence

A/N: Let me know if you like how I write Wolffe and what I could do better. (Not just with character arc but also with my writing style) thank you for reading.

Ps I just found this in my drafts from like a year ago and thought its time to finally post it.

Where the kriff was he? Commander Wolffe, my sparring partner on this evening, was late for our first session. Normally he was always in time, but today, when the 104th left the cruiser for shore leave, he wasn’t.

I was walking up and down the training room while waiting. Biting my lip and clenching my fists over and over again. It made me more anxious than it should, that he made me wait for him.

Maybe he just forgot our arrangement, which consisted of him training with me my hand to hand combat skills, but I hoped he didn’t. I needed him to get better and back in my original shape.

Our last mission was a pretty tough one. We lost good men and friends. They were a part of this family and I wasn’t good enough to safe all of them. It was a misery.

To our surprise Ventress was with the droid army and I had to fight against her. While I tried my best to protect my men and myself I wasn’t able to defeat the woman with her red lightsabers. She was too strong and I too distracted at the wrong moment. Which she used.

Master Plo Koon was the one who had to save me. Luckily he came right in time as Ventress was about to shatter my heart. She nearly killed me and when I closed my eyes just a bit I still felt the heat of her lightsaber on my skin.

A shiver ran through me. It was a close one this time. Death was never as near as in this exact moment. Her lightsaber was on me and ready to slide right through. Thats what this thing was made for, but still I quite couldn’t believe how fast I could’ve been dead. There were screams around me from different troopers. Barking commands. It was Wolffe who screamed my name as Ventress was about to kill me. I’d looked at him as he tried to reach me, but he was way too far away to save me. As I reached through his force signature I just felt pure panic and angst. We held eye contact for what felt like forever before I noticed the figure appearing behind me. My old beloved Master was the hero in last minute. After all I came away with a scar on my chest. Lucky me.

The day after, when I still had to be in the medbay, the Commander offered me to train with him. At least for the time in shore leave. Then we’d see how much progress I made and decide if I’d still need his training, but I was confident that I’d need it. Obviously I would ask him to keep training with me, not just, because I wanted to stay in shape and don’t want to get killed as easily. But also because I kinda had a thing for the grumpy Commander with just one original eye.

“There you are”, I greeted him with a small smile.

Wolffe finally arrived only grunting something, which you could call one of his friendlier greetings. I was grateful that he didn’t seem in the baddest mood. Surprising that I could tell by now how his mood was depending on how he grunted and furrowed his eyebrows. Wolffe was a grumpy one and so you had to check the waters before you let the cat slip out of the bag. When I saw him hours ago he was shouting at some Shinies which broke the caf machine. A hilarious picture to look at. Wolffe had this big furrow between his eyebrows and that annoyed look in his eyes and was obvious on the edge of his nerves while the Shinies looked like they wanted to run away as fast and as wide as they were able to do.

Wolffe was only in his blacks as I noticed now. Showing off his muscles and letting zero to the imagination. I gulped feeling the heat in my cheeks growing. Kriffing maker.

“What would you like to start with, General?”, he asked politely. His voice sounded deeper than normally. If he noticed my darkening cheeks, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Maybe some simple sparring? Just starting easy in this session.“ Starting easy. Yes, for sure.

Wolffe only nodded. I knew that the clones were good at fighting. Not just with their blasters, but also with their hands and body’s. So it was clear that it would be a difficult task to defeat Wolffe.

A few seconds later I was already on the floor again. I stopped counting after the fifth time. And I was a Jedi? Not even able to protect myself without my lightsaber and the force. How should I protect others then?

Above me Wolffe smirked a grin right out of hell. He was enjoying this far too much. 

“Already giving up, General?“ One eyebrow raised a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. There was a sparkle in Wolffes eyes one I rarely saw and which he only showed when he was truly in the mood for some fun.

“You think I’m defeated after a few times on the ground? Then you don’t know me well enough, Commander.“ With a simple jump I was right back on my feet. My arms in front of me in a defensive position. Wolffe switched into fighting position right away, but not before giving me a sarcastic eye roll. He really was one of a kind.

“Then we keep going.“ Wolffe murmured more to himself.

Half an hour was going by. Wolffe only hitting the floor a few times when I remembered some old Jedi tricks from time to time. But now, while he was also slowly losing his power, his movements were slower and less precise. A advantage I’d happily use. I had saved my strength to be able to counterattack at the right moment, when he’d get more tired.

Just as Wolffe was about to punch me in the stomach, a spot I had deliberately left uncovered, I grabbed his other arm, twisted it behind his back and threw him to the ground, all while also pulling his feet away. Too bad I hadn't calculated that he could pull me along with him, because that's exactly what he did. Wolffe grabbed my jedi robe and I fell right with him to the floor. Me above him. For a second I hesitated before I used the position to pin his arms and legs with my own. I got him. The big bad Wolffe was defeated.

“Give up?“ I asked out of breath. Wolffes breathing was as heavy and loud as my one while his chest brushed over mine with every deep breath he and I took. I felt his breath on my lips. His pupils were blowing wide and sweat visible on his forehead. He smelled better than I expected. More like himself and less like everyone else on the ship. More like the real Commander and not the cheap lemon soap the Clones got.

As I noticed now he was wearing a small smirk again. “You should know better.“ And with that he used his power and rolled us over. Now he was on top of me. One of his legs between mine while he pinned my hands above my head. Wolffe was obviously stronger and every attempt to break free failed.

“Give up, Mesh`la?“ Eyebrows raised and a confident smile was all I could see. Kriff, he really got me now. Unless I’d use this situation and my body to my advantage.

“I don’t know, you tell me Wolffe“, I whispered against his lips.

Wolffe growled under his breath before he brushed his lips against mine. Now I got him where I wanted.

“You’re doing things to me you don’t know ‘bout“, he mumbled deeply and I was sure that he felt my heart drumming against his chest. Wolffe had this special power over me and it was clear that I made him feel the same way. We never spoke about our feelings, but we both knew, that this between us was something more than a friendship. Maybe a dangerous game, because if anyone found out about our mutual feelings, they would take each other away from us. After the war, I always told myself, maybe after the war there’d be an opportunity to get together, but not now.

Wolffes hands which pinned mine loosened its grip while one of it went straight to my waist. His eyes were hooded and his breath was quicker than usual. The Commander really thought our little game was over.

“Maybe you should tell or show me then.“

His breath hitched after my respond, “I don’t want to scare you off.“ His eyes were showing pain I’d never seen in them before. Was he scared of losing me? He could never. I knew about his reputation. He was the big bad wolf the little Shinies and other clones were afraid of. But I wasn’t scared of his hard case. I actually adored it. It made him intriguing.

“I’m a Jedi. It’s not easy to scare me off, Wolffe. And you’re definitely not someone I could ever be scared of.“

He shrugged, wanting to say something, but before he could, I wrapped my legs around his hips and turned us over once again.

“Who has the upper hand now?“ I smirked. This time pining him, so he couldn’t roll us over once again.

“Looks like you won this time, Cyare.“

“Obviously, Commander.“

I got up to my feet, before giving Wolffe a helping hand which he agreed to take. This little moment between us was over.

“But I don’t think the Clankers will fall for a move as such.“ Was all he said all while giving my butt a little smack, as I was slowly walking away. All I could do was smirk. Typical Wolffe.

I winked at him, “You aren’t one of the Droids and also, it was a move I specially made up for you.“

Wolffe crossed his arms, not before giving me one last of his typical eye rolls. “See ya, Wolffie.“

I heard him chuckle while walking away. Excited how our next interaction would go on.