#like i can’t even feel anger cause i feel so much pity and for your poor ability to understand what you read

[dearreader]

something very odd about a person nearing 30 who’s hyperfixated on a character for 10+ years not able to understand that he was intentionally written as a villian and that what he does is bad but goes out of there way to say other characters are worse for the same things he does with the only difference between the two being they’re not their fav and feel remorse for their actions

[thepersonnamedsam]

hiii, love your stuff<33 could I maybe request a gen z reader blurb where after getting in a crash due to a mechanical issue everyone worries about her and she’s pissed because she felt seen as weak and vulnerable?? THANK U SO MUCH

life goes on

pairing: genz!driver x '23!grid and some seb cameo

summary: see request :)

word count: 2.1k

warnings: crash, blood, injury, anger issues, tears (idk if that’s a warning), media talks bad about genz!driver, foul language

note: thank you so much for the request!! i am not quite sure if i should write the genz!driver stories in a you pov or a she/her pov, what would you prefer, please let me know, ty :))

masterlist / taglist

It started with a bad day. FP1 was shit, FP2 was also not great. Her day was just not great. Free practice 3 was better, the car had finally responded to her again. In the first two laps, everything went smooth. She was already singing Smooth Operator in her head. But suddenly the car stirred, luckily she saved herself and didn’t crash, but she did retire from the session.

Her engineer and her sat together for Qualifying. She told him everything she noticed whilst driving.

„I feel like the steering wheel is not responding on time. It’s like it’s two seconds delayed, which is not good.“

He nodded and wrote it down on a notepad. „I feel like there’s nothing we can do, I can check with the mechanics, but qualifying is in two hours, which may not be enough time“, her race engineer told her. She sighed. The last two days were bad for y/n, she hasn’t slept good for at least four days. She nodded and told him that she’d be in her drivers room.

As qualifying started, she only got in one good lap before she had to retire. She was right, her steering wheel indeed had a slight delay. Which made turning corners very hard. She ended Q1 in P19, her worst result in qualifying yet. She was disappointed, in herself and in the car.

Her mechanics tried to fix the issue until the race started, but with no hope. She prepared herself for the race, knowing it would not be an easy one. She was scared, like scared shitless. She tried to call Sebastian during Q2, but he did not pick up. Opting for a quick text, she asked him to call her back as soon as possible.

Lewis heard what happened to y/n car during Q1 and wanted to comfort the young driver. With long strides he went to her motorhome. Her engineer just pointed to her drivers room as soon as he saw Lewis approach him. Three short knocks. Her head snapped up as the door opened. Lewis was standing there, looking pitiful and held his arms out.

„Are you okay, darling?“, he asked her as she nuzzled her head in his shoulders. She let her tears fall freely. Shaking her head she told him how she felt. „The steering wheel is delayed, which is so difficult to drive with and also dangerous. But my mechanics can’t fix it, they don’t know why it’s happening and a whole reboot of the system would take too long! I’m scared, Lewis. I don’t know what to do.“

His hand firm on her backside, he just held the young woman. Telling her to retire to not cause a crash would’ve been the best thing. Tell her to refuse to race. But he didn’t, knowing the girl and her ambitions. She would race, no matter what. She didn’t want to be seen as weak or even worse, girly.

She was girly, but not in the sense of racing. She was just as ‚manly‘ as the other drivers.

„I know that you will make the right decision about the whole situation“, Lewis told her. Oh, how wrong he was.

Q3 was finished with Verstappen on pole, as always, Perez on P2 and Leclerc on P3. Happy to see Charles starting this high, she went into the race with somewhat a good feeling. The first three laps were okay, she sank down to P20, DeVries overtook her with ease on the second corner, as she slowed down as much as possible to control the car. But the longer the race was, the more angry she got. It was not fair, the steering wheel was just not responding.

On lap 24 y/n’s car crashed. In corner eight, her steering wheel stopped working. Instead of a turn, the car just went straight into the pit wall. The front wing smashed against the wall, squashing it against her own car. Her head was spinning. What just happened?

„Red flag, the FIA just announced a red flag in corner eight. Seems like y/l/n crashed. Let’s hope she’s fine.“

Several team radios went through.

„Charles, y/n crashed in corner eight, there’s a red flag, be careful.“

„Lewis, there is a red flag.“

„Be careful, Max. You are approaching corner eight where y/n has had a crash.“

And many more. Everyone was concerned. What has happened? What did she do to crash her car like that. Was she responsive? Responsible? What was going on?

„y/n, please respond. The race has been stopped. What happened?“, her race engineer tried to speak to her, she was non-responsive.

„What the fuck, what happened?! Is she responsive? Are the medics on their way?“, Lewis was the first to address the situation. „We don’t know, we don’t see any medics yet, Lewis.“

And as Max pulled up to corner eight he hopped out of his car. He ran towards hers and yelled for her, to show him a sign that she was still alive, without a response. He was worried, he was always worried when someone crashed, but he was extra worried when she did.

„y/n! What happened? Are you okay? Please give me a sign!“, he tried it again, with no luck. He saw her helmet move, the flashy colours moving from side to side. „Ach godzijdank Ah, thank god“, he mumbled.

The medics arrived and ushered Max to the side. Taking her out of the car and laying her on a spinal board. Transporting her into the ambulance.

She was devastated. It was not her fault she crashed. But the media didn’t know that. They would accuse her of crashing yet another car. That she wasn’t good enough to be in Formula 1. They would report about her as if she wasn’t a human being and just something they could play with. They would talk about her like a doll. It was not fair.

Meanwhile on the paddock the talking began. Lewis was the most worried, he should’ve just told her to refuse racing. What if she suffered a serious injury? Like a neck or spine injury and couldn’t race anymore. It was his fault, that’s what he thought.

Lando was worried too, not really knowing what happened, he was just worried. She could be injured. The minutes went by without any news from her. They were hard for Lando.

Even Checo, who wasn’t usually a companion of y/n, was worried. He didn’t see what happened, but he heard from Max how the crash looked - bad, it looked bad.

„We hear from the medics; y/n is okay. At least that. Let’s hope the race will continue without another crash.“

Lewis released a breather, not knowing he heals so much air in his lungs. He was glad y/n was okay. He still felt bad, always feeling responsible for her. And now that she crashed, his head was spinning with gut wrenching thoughts and worry.

The FIA announced the green flag and the race continued without y/n. When she got back to her garage, her motorhome, she expected a angry team principal, angry mechanics and engineers, expect she was greeted with relieved sighs and shoulder droppings. Her engineer was the first one to embrace her. He told her how sorry he was and how everything was definitely not her fault.

She was still angry, no points, no race, no happy ending for that day. Everything was shit. She had a shit day that race. And it was not even her own fault.

Her team principal came towards her, gripping her shoulders hard and said: „I know this seems bad, it is, but we can fix it. I wish I could send you home, but media still awaits.“

So she waited, she waited lap after lap until eventually Max won the race. She waited until her PR got her out of the drivers room and took her to the media pen, where the post race conferences will be held.

Sky Sports interviewed the todays winner. So, y/n waited for Max to finish. She hoped he would never finish, that she would never have to face the camera and talk about the incident.

But that didn’t happen.

„Hello y/n, how do you feel? Everything okay, no pain?“, the nice interviewer asked her. „Uh, yeah, everything is fine“, she struggled with her answer, not believing herself that everything was fine.

„Can you tell me what happened? We just saw you crashing?“ - „Uhm, yeah“, she looked towards her media PR, what was she allowed to say? She shook her head - no bad words about her team. „I-, uh, I lost control of my steering wheel.“

The interviewer nodded. „We saw you retire from the race after Q1, having struggled already in FP1 and 2. Did you have problems with your steering wheel during them as well?“

She sighed. She was tired, her neck ached and she just wanted to be in her bed.

„I mean, kind of, yeah you could say I struggled with it during free practice.“

If she told the interviewer that she struggled with it during the whole yesterday and today, she would’ve bad mouthed the team.

„Last question for today, y/n. We asked Twitter for some comments, would you be so kind to make a statement to some of them?“

She really didn’t want to, knowing exactly what most of them had to say; women don’t belong in motorsports, etc.

„Sure“, she sighed. Her PR nodded, happy that y/n decided not to refuse.

„Alright, @motodports_2 said: That’s the second time this season that y/n crashed her car and we are only on the 7th race. What do you have to say to that?“

She closed her eyes, the headache creeping in like a madman with a desire to kill. „That’s true, that was the second crash of the season. And I am sorry for that, my team doesn’t deserve me crashing that many times during the season. I apologise.“

Sebastian was sitting at home, watching the race from his couch. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. The team doesn’t deserve a driver that crashes so much? Bullshit.

He missed her calls earlier that day, he wished he would’ve picked up his phone or at least called her back. But what she was telling to that interviewer was absolute bull.

Charles, who was next in line, also couldn’t believe the stuff you were telling Sky Sports.

„Okay, @maydrive says: The way y/n is throwing away her career in F1 with those shenanigans. Get a grip, will you?“, the interviewer read from the screen in front.

Charles was shocked, he never had to respond to any comments like that. How was she experiencing something like that?

„Uh yeah, thank you @maydrive for that. I will try to get a grip, and you are right, I am throwing away my F1 career like that, but I don’t want that, that’s why I will keep trying to get better“, her eyes were starting water. Just don’t let those tears fall, y/n. They want to see her cry, don’t give them the satisfaction of it.

„Thank you, y/n. Rest up and good evening!“

Her PR pulled her away and onto the next interview. After all that, she was exhausted. Exhausted and angry. How could they be asking her questions like that? Not fair.

Back in her garage, she let the emotions flow. Tears were streaming down her face, sobs were heard and her body was shaking. Her PR handed y/n her phone, leaving her again with a gentle pat to the shoulder.

Seb was calling her.

„Before you say anything, don’t let them treat you like that ever again. Not your fault, if you had problems with the steering wheel, it is not your place to apologise“, Seb interrupted her, before she could even sob into the phone. He heard sniffles. „Don’t cry, liebes dear. You did nothing wrong today.“

„Seb, I wish you’d be here“, she sobbed into the phone. It broke his heart. Comforting someone over the phone was hard, much more if the person being comforted was a teenager.

„It’s gonna be okay, life goes on, okay?“, he told her. „I just feel so weak and vulnerable. They hate me, they always find something wrong with my driving.“

„You are not weak! Who told you that?“, a voice from behind her sounded from the dark. Fernando Alonso stepped out of the shadow. Seb instantly recognised the older spaniards voice over the phone. Glad y/n was not alone in a time like this.

Fernando embraced her. Hugging her tight and firmly. He felt her heartbeat against his chest, beating like crazy. „Breathe with me, y/n.“

They were standing in her motorhome, embraced in one another. If a camera had noticed, headliners would say: Alonso and y/l/n dating confirmed? But there was no camera around.

She had her family here in F1. She belonged here, just as much as any other driver. She was not at fault. She was not weak or vulnerable. She was strong.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23

[kkami-writes]

hybrid hearts ━ chapter four. wc. 1.5k

It was one of those rare days where both you and Hyunjin were off work, the two of you able to relax at home. Normally on days off Hyunjin liked to paint, whether that was in his room, out on the patio, in the backyard or even just in the living room. He’d sit on the couch, watching a random kdrama. The boy was constantly covered in paint.

Today however he seemed on edge, his canvas barely touched and constantly glancing towards the backyard while he sat in the living room. White ears twitching every so often as if he was straining to hear something. You don’t even get the chance to ask him if something is wrong before he’s darting out to the backyard, transforming into a ferret midway. Hyunjin disappears into the bushes leaving you a little bewildered at his actions. While his behavior has confused you greatly, you’re not too worried.

As the day drags on the more you start to get anxious. Usually Hyunjin isn’t away from you this long, at least not without you knowing where he is. Of course he’s allowed to do whatever he wants without your permission but this is the first time he has just up and left, the thought that he’s gone forever scares you more than you’d like to admit.

You’ve gotten so used to the ferret that you know your life would be lonely without him, the fear of being alone has once again wrapped itself around your heart, squeezing painfully. So when you finally see his little form running through the bushes again you feel like you can finally breathe. Except then you see a very giant grey wolf trailing behind him. The creature looks like it’s chasing Hyunjin and your brain goes into overdrive. Before you can even think you’re throwing open the little glass sliding door and launching yourself over Hyunjin, shielding him with your body.

“No! Please don’t hurt him!” You beg even though you don’t know if the wolf is well, a wolf or if it’s a hybrid. Hyunjin is squirming in your grip, tiny body writhing as if he wants you to let go. You refuse, holding onto him a little tighter. He gets fed up and transforms back into a human, resulting in you being spread across his lap.

Still, you don’t budge, still trying to protect the boy. Hyunjin on the other hand chitters angrily towards the wolf, baring his little fangs.

“I told you to get lost! This territory has been claimed already!” You glance up at Hyunjin whose face is contorted in pure anger that it’s practically rolling off him in waves.

“Hyune. What’s going on?” You ask, taking a look back at the wolf who hasn’t moved, it’s just staring between both you and Hyunjin.

“This wolf has been nosing at the territory line I made. I don’t care what it wants. It shouldn’t be here,” Hyunjin growls, trying to get out of your grasp but you’re still afraid and can’t move.

“Territory?” You question and this time Hyunjin seems slightly embarrassed, ears turning red.

“Nothing I just- when you adopted me…I didn’t…want other hybrids to get the wrong idea so…I might have? Marked that…this is my territory,” Hyunjin mutters, now looking anywhere but you. To be honest, you’re not really sure what that means or entails but you suppose you’re flattered that Hyunjin truly thinks of this place as his home to want to protect it to this extent.

The wolf behind you lets out a whine and it causes you to turn to look at him. It’s nosing at it’s paw before letting out more sad pitiful whines.

“Ignore him. Tell him to leave,” Hyunjin huffs out, still glaring at the wolf.

“Hyun, he seems hurt,” You murmur, noticing how swollen the wolfs paw looks. “Let me at least help him. Then he can leave,” Hyunjin still seems unhappy about this, now burying his face into the crook of your neck, letting out the small squeak that you adore.

“Fine. But then he leaves,” He mutters much more quietly, his lips almost pressed to your neck as he says the words.

“Ok, ok. Then he leaves,” This seems to placate Hyunjin as he finally pulls out from your embrace, but he doesn’t look at you. You move to stand up, now looking over at the wolf. “Come on, lemme have a look at your paw,” It obeys, limping slightly but following you towards the bathroom. You hear a door slam and you assume that Hyunjin has resorting to locking himself in his room. A sigh falls from your lips. You hope the boy isn’t too upset.

Rummaging through your cabinet you pull out a first aid kit. To be honest you were a little worried, if it was really bad it would be best to get him to a hospital but you assumed he couldn’t afford it (but really could anyone really afford a hospital bill) and that’s why he had left it unchecked for so long. You turn back to the wolf, looking down at him. He was a little larger than a normal wolf, it was slightly intimidating.

“Uh, are you gonna transform? Or would you prefer if I just tended to you in wolf form?” The wolf answered by slowly turning back into a human, his injured hand behind his back. You take a moment to take the boy in. He’s taller than you of course but you think that Hyunjin might be even taller than the wolf. Brown curly hair sits on top of his head, cute grey wolf ears peaking out and twitching. Overall he’s very handsome, a thought you’ll keep to yourself for now.

“Can I see your hand,” You reach out, leaving your hand in the air for whenever he’s ready. He seems to trust you enough as he puts his hand out. Carefully you examine the wound. It seems like a nasty sliver, stuck between two of his fingers and embedded in his skin. His hand is slightly swollen and red, probably from having it in for so long. You can’t imagine how uncomfortable it might be and you can’t help but cringe.

“Ok, let me see if I can get the sliver out first…” You grab a pair of tweezers, moving his hand at an angle that would be easiest to remove the wood. “This might hurt a bit,” You warn the wolf before starting to squeeze at the wound, seeing if it’ll pop out a little to make it easier to grab. He doesn’t make much noise besides a small hiss, otherwise he’s pretty quiet.

You’re still working on getting the sliver out, pressing at different angles when he finally speaks up.

“I’m sorry for upsetting your mate. I hope I didn’t cause a rift between you too,” Your head flies up to look at him, eyes wide at what he called Hyunjin.

“O-Oh! No! Me and Hyunjin aren’t…no it’s not like that. We aren’t um. Mates,” You can’t help but stutter over your words. The wolf gives you a look that says he doesn’t really believe you but doesn’t push it any further. “So, what’s your name?” You try to change the subject, hoping your cheeks aren’t red from the insinuation.

“Bangchan, but you could call me Chan or Chris,”

“It’s nice to meet you- Oh! I got it!” You exclaim before pulling the sliver out, resulting in a yelp from the wolf. “Sorry, sorry. It’s out now,” You throw away the large piece of wood and grab some ointment and bandages. “I’m a bit worried about you getting an infection, it’s already a little swollen,” You bite at your lower lip, nibbling it out of anxiety. “Why don’t you stay? Just for the night and in the morning you can leave. I want to give you some meds but they’ll probably make you fall asleep and I’d hate to send you out there with an open wound,”

“But what about your mate? He’s already mad at just me being here,”

“Just let me deal with that ok? Hyunjin will probably be upset but he knows it’s the right thing to do,”

Chan seems a little hesitant but he knows that if he truly wants his hand to heal, he needs to avoid an infection. He wouldn’t be able to afford a hospital bill. So he relents, agreeing to just stay the night. You show him to one of your empty rooms. Chan thanks you for your hospitality as well as taking care of his injury before bidding you goodnight, already feeling the meds taking effect.

You take a moment to collect yourself, trying to go over the events of the past two hours. Thinking about it hurts your head so you pack it away to deal with later. That was a future you problem. For now, you had to think about how to tell Hyunjin about Chan.

You were in desperate need of some tea.

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[eepywriters]

I LOVED YOUR MESSAGES WITH QUACKITY ❤️❤️❤️

please do getting into an agrument with quackity headcanons please 🙏🏻🙏🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻😙😙🫣‼️💕💕🩷🩷

.✦°. • getting into an argument hcs (*´Д｀*)

warnings: a bit of angst and maybe a bit ooc? I tried 😞🤚🏻

a/n: HIII!! THANK U SO MUCH! It means a lot :D and sorry if it took so long ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ finals kicked my ass so I couldn’t write for a while BUT IM HERE SO LET’S GET INTO IT

EARLY INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

(thinking of a young, little experienced Alex)

Oh it’s jover

This could actually be something that could cause a breakup cuz let me tell you THIS MAN just can’t stand confrontation

If it’s something that bugged you, he’d probably understand your point of view but would also be very overwhelmed at the thought of losing you cause he hasn’t been good enough for you, resulting in him hyper focusing on his spiraling thoughts rather than listening to what you are saying

I feel like he’d also be the type to act like nothing happened right after an argument; he’d ignore the tense situation and make jokes to light up the mood and forget about it. He’s not dense, he knows it hurts you to see him seemingly ignore your feelings like that, but he’s not used to being listened so he ends up making his partner go trough his predicament as well

BUT it’s even worse if it’s something that bugged HIM; he probably wouldn’t tell you about it, much preferring to suck it up and don’t cause problems, even though he IS creating more problems

the underlying tension caused by his silence would bring the relationship to a breaking point:

1 you break up and the regret eats him up (probably also wouldn’t reach out again because of shame and a tiny bit of ego)

2 you talk about it cause it can’t go on like this

When I talk about bugging tho, I’m thinking about things that don’t surge an immediate reaction from him, because if he’s mad, he’s mad.

He’s the venomous type, forget his silence and self pity, he’ll probably laugh in your face in irritation and say whatever the fuck he thinks

He’ll retreat to his office as soon as he sees the hurt in your face, understanding he went to far and going back to he’s usual silence, ending up giving you the silence treatment. (he also feels incredibly ashamed) (he’ll just stay in his office all day, editing mindlessly since his mind is anywhere but in the work he’s doing)

He’ll either leave you alone in bed that day, making you sulk and feel as lonely as ever, or will sleep with you but it’ll be the coldest shit ever (like the typical movie scene where two people sleep super afar from each other)

Don’t misunderstand tho, he does feel guilty, he just struggles with communicating his feelings properly (*´ー｀*)

“(Name) I’m not a child, stop acting like you are my fucking mom” he spat, a look of indignation spreading on his features, shaping his otherwise gentle appearance into a strong, furious one.

“Cant you understand that I’m worried about you?” you strike back, jaw impossibly tightened “I understand that you’re very dedicated to your job, but you can’t get yourself to this state.” You sigh, not able to keep up the mad act: “You look very tired Alex”.

You take a tentative step towards him, determined to show him you weren’t scolding him, nor were you mad at him. You were trying to establish contact with him, not start a fight, after all your irritation came from worry, not anger. But he didn’t receive that well. His brows scrunching even further while his mouth twitches downwards.

“Stop acting like I’m some fucking rabid animal. I can take care of myself just fine, I don’t need a fucking babysitter”.

Seems that wasn’t the right move.

The way he was saying your name was probably what hurt the most. You find yourself missing the gentle tone he usually reserved to it when spoken.

“What are you even saying?” you breathe out, your voice being so fragile you almost don’t recognize it as your own. “Do you hear what you are saying? You are being impossible Alex”.

At this point his foot is stomping nervously on the floor. He’s getting annoyed by the minute and he can’t wait to forget about this tense situation. Arguments always put him on edge, but instead of working on the root cause of his discomfort, he always had preferred to just get himself out of the mess as soon as possible. (He hadn’t yet grasped how much that could hurt others). And that’s why, out of everything he could’ve gone, he replied with the one of the most uncalled for things he could ever come up with.

“Maybe instead of worrying about me, you should take a good look at yourself first”.

And you know what he was trying to entail.

You were never insecure of your dark circles, or at least, it wasn’t something that bugged you on the daily ever since you had found a common ground with Alex, knowing he struggled with very prominent circles cause of his lack of sleep. But for someone like him, who always had a hard time with his appearance, to clap back at you by going for your looks? Foul. Unexpected. Not like him at all.

You were sure he could tell from the look of disbelief on your face that he had fucked up.

Alex’s breathing keeps up, his chest constricts, and the anger and the pride that he has wearing like a tailored suit are stripped out of him at the sight of your frown. His mind goes haywire trying to come up with any response.

Maybe if you would’ve known him better by then, you would’ve known how terrified he was of your judgment. Even though his fame often had him deal with horrible comments filled with free hate, if judgement came from you, it scarred 100 times more than anything could ever do.

“Just leave it be, I’m fine” it’s all he mutters before booking it and hiding himself in his office, leaving you to stand there, in the middle of your living room.

Tears prickle your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment and your lip begs you for mercy as you bite into it.

God, why was communicating so difficult in this house?

LONG INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

It took time, it took healing, it took sitting down and TALKING to finally find your balance

He’s still pretty much venomous when it comes to immediate triggers, but after you are both done fighting and cursing each other out, you talk about it and come out of it somewhat unscathed

Anger isn’t easy to control or refrain after all, but you both try your best, and you are able to make up most of the times without falling into old dynamics of silent treatment or isolation

If something bugs him, he most likely will tell you; he is hesitant about it, but after many nights spent in your arms, he starts to let go on some of his biggest worries (anxiety still gnaws at his core every time he opens his mouth though, that doesn’t get old at all)

If something bugs you, he doesn’t shy away from confrontation anymore; he’s not perfect at it either, he still feels the urge to run away and laugh about it all, but he’s gotten way better at it

He’s still very scared of you having a negative opinion about him, but now you know him well enough to spend some extra time to reassure him that you won’t stop loving him for a petty fight, and that arguments in relationship are important to grow not only as a couple, but as people too

“(Name)” he calls out, and you instantly recognize the hint of anxiety that he’s trying to hide from you.

“Yes honey?” you reply, taking your eyes off your phone to stare into his pretty, brown ones. They screamed stress, fear, yet also determination. He did so much progress compared to the beginnings of your relationship. You were proud of him.

Alex took a deep breath before saying: “Uhm, It’s about the photo of us you posted earlier”. You could practically smell the tension in the air. His body is stiff, his chest is heaving, but your gaze is captured by his fingers and by how his nails are digging into them continuously, tearing his already red skin.

You take his hands in yours, preventing him from doing further damage to his poor, abused fingers. You knew he does it as a way to ground himself, but he really needed to find a new coping method - one that didn’t feature him torturing his body if possible.

He stares at his hands in yours for a while. You don’t say anything, allowing him to take his time.

“Okay fuck it” Alex whispers under his breath, so quietly you almost miss it.

“It makes me feel insecure, I don’t like it” he admits, keeping his focus on your hands as he munches his bottom lip nervously. You, in response, draw slow circles on his hands, offering him a gentle smile.

“Can you delete it..?” he sounds unsure, like he’s testing the waters instead of actually making a request. Either way you welcome it.

You put one of your fingers under his chin, gently applying pressure for him to lift his head, just enough to look at you. “Of course I can. Thank you for telling me Alex, I know it’s hard”. His once tense body relaxes.

He avoids your tender gaze, seemingly preferring to stare at the floor, yet you see the soft blush that was quickly taking over his cheeks. You also can’t help but notice that he already had found his charming smile back.

“Stop looking at me like that” he mumbles as his smile spreads. Uh oh, that can only mean trouble.

“Like what” your eyes narrow, not trusting his new found confidence.

“Like this”.

His imitation is pitiful: furrowed eyebrows, small frown and large puppy dog eyes. The more you look at him, the more he reminds you of that one emo guy that kind of looks like him (he definitely does). He looks ridiculous. How did you even fall in love with this dude?

You slap his arm, scoffing out a laugh as you look at him incredulous: “I don’t look like that!”.

“I think you do” he says with a smug tone, one that makes you want to hit him with a pillow till he goes back to sleep. And maybe you just will.

“Oh it’s on you motherf-“

The room was filled with laughter instead of unconfortable, loud silence.

(first post of 2024 yippiee)

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard- Chapter 5: Leap

knight!simon riley x queen!reader

cw: dark themes, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, *read at your own discretion* take care of yourselves & know that the world is better to have you in it🫶🏻

word count: 3.6k

[<<<chapter 4]

It’s quiet, when you step out onto your balcony. Peaceful. Finally.

The days had come and gone, three, to be exact- after Johnny and Simon had become privy to the king’s violence towards you. And, much to your chagrin, they didn’t seem to believe when you told them you would be fine, that these things happen, and you are not naive enough to believe that they would have never happened to you at some point.

It is a woman’s place in the world, after all, to serve her father, her lords, her husband, her king. Even a queen does not see any favor in this regard, at least not in a way that matters, no, not to you-

”Do you pity me, Ser Simon?”

Your question stumps him for a moment, as he watches you closely, following three paces behind you- no more, no less. He’s watched you stroll through the stables like this, nodding your head so politely, greeting the hands and lords, alike, with a kind smile.

And ever so often, you’ll peek over your shoulder- though, he doesn’t imagine a world where you could possibly think he wouldn’t be there when you cast your fleeting glances.

But pity you? No.. he only pities the king isn’t here right now, so that he could show the man how it feels to have a much stronger hand wrapped around his puny neck-

The thought brings a sneer to his face, one he’s glad you cannot see.

“No, My Queen.”

You stop in front of Johnny’s horse, a tall, leggy beast; his color such a deep chestnut, it almost looks red in the sunlight, save for a perfect white blaze that runs from his forelock to his muzzle-

“I suppose I should be grateful.” You hum with amusement, though your expression is anything but, “Some of us get a taste on our wedding night, hm.. At least I got a few years of peace. If you can call it that-”

He reaches forward without thought, a large, black clad hand coming down tenderly to rest on your forearm,

“Don’t say that-”

A quiet clatter from just outside reminds him of how unduly this might look, how familiar he’s let himself get with you. Simon’s never been one for physical touch, but the small, terribly chaste moments have only grown in abundance. A graze of your hand here, or a brushing of your shoulder there.

He just can’t seem to be close enough to you, and he loathes himself for it-

You watch him step back to a respectable distance before he continues speaking lowly, close enough for you to hear, but far enough to excuse if anyone were to see; you think about how sweetly the tickle of his breath might feel against your skin, and his next words do nothing to chase those thoughts,

“No one deserves that, least of all, you, My Queen.” It’s so hard to keep your eyes forward, your hands feel too idle, your body far too wired, too aware of his proximity, “When a man touches a woman, it should never be out of anger, it should never be to cause pain, or inspire fear.”

His tone dips into a growl at the end, one that causes a deep shiver to creep up your spine and your hair to raise on end,

“No.. Do not be grateful for that- a man’s touch should be kind and gentle, it is a man’s duty to protect and reassure, to give comfort, and pleasure.”

That same shiver turns impossibly hot now, your skin prickling with such a deep-seated desire to know exactly what he means, to know the implications that were implied. But, you could not know, and you know he couldn’t give that to you, try as he might. You wouldn’t let him.

His words ring in your head now, just as loud as they did hours ago. Painfully clear and repetitive, the feelings they brought with it wrapping you in a shroud, one that you can’t quite decide if you like or not- because you can’t tell if it brings you a sense of caring, or if it just reminds you how alone you are in this situation.

But when every direction you look in feels wrong, like a dead end, how else are you suppose to feel? What else can you do?

The winds pick up for a moment as you stare out over the gardens, bringing with it a thick wave of petrichor; the storm moving close enough to scent the air and fill the sky with brilliant flashes of lightning in the distance.

How fitting..

This is good, no one will be out, and the rain will come soon enough to wash you clean of your sins-

Maybe a part of you will stay here with the gardens. You did always enjoy when your mother’s maids would tell their enthralling tales of ghastly apparitions, of the souls who either chose not, or could not, move on to the afterlife- so they stay behind to haunt amongst the living.

The gardens were your solace in life, so perhaps you could find peace in them again- if you could not move on. Or perhaps, your soul might find its way home, where you can watch over your sweet Johnny, see your family grow old.

Poor Johnny.. He’ll be so heartbroken..

Sharp nails dig into the skin of your palms as you scolding your own traitorous thoughts. That’s not what you needed right now, not when you must be resolute and sure. Yes, he will be heartbroken, but he will be alive, he will live out his days just as you made him promise.

And he had promised to go home today, promised to settle the matter of his inheritance and speak with his father- though, it was surely not a one-sided promise. Johnny had only, reluctantly, mounted his horse after you also promised to come visit in two weeks time, just long enough for you to make preparations.

You hated lying to him, you really did, every second of it made you feel ill to your stomach- but, he’s gone, on his way home, safe.

But Simon..

He is standing his post right now, right there. Exactly where he should be. You could go to him, you could demand he take off his helmet so that you may finally, finally see his face, so that he could be the last thing you see before you go-

No, you could never demand something like that of him. What ever reasons he has for hiding his face are his own.. and what would you do if he did remove it, anyway?

Would you ask for a kiss? Or, just that he hold you, truly hold you, just one time-

You can’t help but to smile at your own innocent foolishness; a kiss? To be held? What silly whims..

You did write him a letter, too. And it was difficult, trying to articulate the feelings you have for him, for this man you’ve never seen, this man who by every right, you should not feel anything for- but, you wanted to try.

Because you hope, maybe, that your words will give him some comfort. You don’t want him to feel guilty, or like it might have been his fault- and you have a feeling not many people have expressed such things to a Ghost..

A quiet laugh erupts from your chest then, followed by a choked sort of sound, wet and syrupy and thick in your throat at the terrible, awful idea that one day you might be ghosts together. Right back in the gardens, walking among the fragrant flowers and tall hedges, you might find each other again-

With that thought, and a deep, shaky breath, you lift the skirt of your nightgown and step up onto the lower stone surrounding, lifting your legs up and over the intricate railing one at a time. A hearty gust of wind whips your hair back and forth, and you gasp as you truly take in just how high off the ground you are, your hands gripping the iron beneath them with every bit of strength you have to muster.

But, you don’t feel scared.

You feel an odd rush of excitement, no, that’s not right- it’s far more nuanced than that. And perhaps, it’s just that this is undoubtedly the most reckless and thrilling thing you’ve ever done. The small taste of freedom intoxicating, having rarely, if ever, made a single decision for yourself that was selfish in every facet.

It is a shame, you think, that it took so long. And what if, you don’t do this? Will this confidence still be here tomorrow? Or days from now? Months, when your king is back-

No, no.. don’t do that.

You feel the softest splash of a raindrop on your cheek, then another, more after that. It’s still unseasonably warm out, making the cool liquid feel refreshing against your feverish skin, and the stormy breeze a reprieve.

But, if it all feels so wonderful, like a child again, simply playing in the rain, why do you feel the salty heat of tears mixing with the raindrops?

And why can’t you tell if they’re out of sadness, or relief, or some horrific mixture of the two?

“My Queen.”

At the sound of his voice, the droplets no longer feel good or refreshing, and the wind does not help the burning in your skin because the heat has been replaced with an icy dread. He was not suppose to be here, he shouldn’t have left his post, there couldn’t have been a good reason to, and you told him, you made it very clear that you were not to be disturbed tonight-

“My Queen, don’t move. Let me-”

“No.”

You still haven’t turned to look at him, you can’t, not if you wish to keep the resolve you’ve forged. Because you know, one look at those damned eyes and you would crumble at his feet.

“Go back to your post, Ser Simon.”

He steps closer as you speak, the sound his movements muffled by your voice, and the now howling winds that blow wildly around you. This is something he never imagined to see, not now, and certainly not when you had left him outside your chambers door.

He knew you were grieving seeing Johnny go- no matter the forced smiles, he knew your expressions, he could read you like a book. But, this..

Once again he finds himself internally cursing his own ineptitudes because how could he make the same mistake again? How could he not see that he let a monster into your room and locked you in with it.

“Come down, and I will.”

You bark out a laugh, your fingers growing fatigued and your legs beginning to tremble as you hold on,

“Do not forget your place, good Ser.. You do not command me, and I have no patience for your bargaining.”

The words feel like the most bitter of poisons on your tongue, but you ground them out anyway. If you could just push him away, if you could make him go- then you can finish this. You can save him, save him from yourself, and the stain you would leave on his name, his very life.

“You’re right.. I’m sorry, My Queen. But, please-”

Simon can feel the edges of his nerves fraying in every direction as he speaks that one helpless plea, his knees feel weaker than ever before, his fingers twitch and clench together, longing desperately to reach for you- to pull you away from danger, pull you into his arms, and never let you go because he cannot lose you. Not when he’s only just found you. And certainly not like this.

He would drop to his knees and vow all over again, vow on his life, that he will make you see how worthy you are to be in this world, and that it is the world that is not worthy of you. But, he’s also seen this before, seen good soldiers lose battles that are quiet, invisible to everyone around them. Hells, he’s been to the depths of his own mind, and it nearly saw the end of him-

“No, Simon.” Your voice is surprisingly confident and steeled as you squint against the rain, your nightgown clinging to your goose pimpled skin and your hair stuck in thick strands across your face, “I do not want you to be here. I relieve you of this responsibility- and please know, that this is of no fault of your own. You are good, and kind, and you have been-”

A small sob wracks through you, knowing that you are just prolonging the inevitable, knowing that all you are doing now is subjecting him to your own unguided anguish.

So, so selfish.. He will be better without you-

“Look at me,” He calls out your name, and you almost give in, almost.

“No. NO. I cannot do that, and you know I can’t. I can’t live like this, but if I stay, or if I run, people I love will be hurt- and I cannot see that happen. I cannot live my life in fear of my husband’s hand. I do not want to be his plaything, or his broodmare, but I have nothing else! This is all I was ever meant to be- it’s all I’ve never known, but you can’t possibly understand.”

Slowly, you pry one hand open, and that thrilling rush of terror and anticipation floods you again, the ground below doesn’t look so far away now, and the gardens are right there, a pretty view-

”I’m so sorry.”

“No! LOOK. AT. ME!”

Something in his voice, in the unwavering, undeniable authority and desperation makes your head turn without permission. Through the mist and shadows, you see his familiar armor glinting in the sparse, pale rays of moonlight that have fought their way through the clouds. But, that’s not what makes your eyes widen, and your jaw to go slack.

It’s his helmet hanging loosely from the tips of his fingers, his face- his face- bared to you, dark hair matting to his forehead under the weight of the water, amber eyes intense and focused,

“Simon..”

You blink in surprise when he thrusts the helm towards you suddenly, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he all but glares back at you, and gods, you wish you could just see him better- see the soft angle of his nose in proper lighting, and the dark scar that runs across the bridge of it,

“Take it. It is yours now.” He demands, stepping close enough for you to reach for it if you choose, “I swore my life to you, and I meant it, every word. To defend you from harm or threat.”

One more step.

“To obey your commands. To defend your honor and your name. To counsel if requested, and remain silent and steadfast at your side otherwise. To never wed, take no land, and father no children.”

Again, he pushes it closer, looking down at it with anger and fondness before looking back up to you; and the most errant thought crosses your mind of how many people he’s ever actually had to cast his eyes upward for,

“My life is yours, My Queen. I.. am yours.”

No. No. You can’t, and you shouldn’t- and yet, your hand reaches forward, your fingers shaking, and your cheeks so covered with tears that you don’t know where they stop and the rain begins.

The steel is cold and wet, and you hardly feel the weight of it at all as you stare down at the angular cutouts for his eyes, wide and sharp; the raised crest that runs vertically from the peak of his face shield to the very back. You’ve always thought his armor to be such a beautiful amalgamation of elegant lines and aggressive angles, which seeing his face now, you can see how it matches him so perfectly-

A very unladylike shriek parts your lips the moment your fingers find purchase, Simon using your hold on his helmet to jerk you forward, and in the blink of an eye, a strong arm loops around your waist as he pulls you up and over the railing,

“Simon! No!”

But, it’s too late, and his hold on you is too strong. It doesn’t hurt, and it doesn’t feel angry, or out of spite- quite the opposite, in fact. While his arms are unmovable, he has you clutched to his chest with an arm around your torso and one supporting your legs as he carries you into the dry warmth of your rooms, helmet long forgotten on the cold stone outside.

“You can’t-”

He sets you on your feet, but his hands don’t stray far- and now that you’ve lost your height advantage you’re left in awe at how large he looms over you, holding your arms before he’s yanking the soaked gloves off between his teeth,

“I can.” Simon growls, placing a wide palm on either side of your face, calloused thumbs gently wiping the rain and tears away, “Go on, little queen, tell me what I can’t do, and I’ll show you exactly what I will.”

Your lip quivers pathetically as you look up at him, “He will kill us for this..”

You have no doubts of this, it is one of the many reasons why you wanted to leap from that balcony, so that you did not have to live this insidious façade anymore- because you couldn’t, you couldn’t have Simon at your side and not have these thoughts, these feelings, insatiable and unquenchable. And to know he could possibly feel the same-

“The king’s head would fall before he ever laid another hand on you.”

The air around you itself seems to grow hot and heady at his words, at the minuscule distance between his lips and yours; lips that are scarred and flushed a deep pink, so beautifully offset from his pale skin,

“You’re a mad man.” You whisper.

And, oh, the way those lips pull into a smile you have longed to see- his eyes crinkling around the edges. It is not a handsome smile, no. It is willful and amused, and broad, and wonderful, as a laugh rumbles through him,

“Now that, My Queen, I am..”

But maybe it is you who are the mad one, or it could still be the adrenaline pumping through your system, hazing your mind and your inhibitions, or that now prevailing desire to simply make decisions for yourself- to be selfish.

Either way, you’re the one who leans forward, wrapping your arms around his neck in order to pull yourself up enough to crush your lips against his. To finally feel everything you’ve dreamt of, the wonders you’ve fantasized, all of them centered around your guard, your dark knight. And here he is, right at your fingertips, his mouth moving so naturally, so perfectly in sync with yours.

Kissing Simon is unlike anything you ever felt with your King, it is reverent and gradual, like he wants to learn you, to know you intrinsically, intimately, to worship you first and foremost- the way his hands hold you so tenderly, his fingers tangling in your mess of wet hair, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss slowly and thoroughly.

But, too soon, he pulls away; sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as if to savor just the taste of you, his eyes darker than you think you’ve ever seen, and your name spoken like a quiet prayer, begging you to relent, pleading for you to keep him a honorable man- as honorable as a man like him can be.

“Please, My Queen..”

You look up at him again, his hands still holding your face as you lean away, letting your own hands slide over the sleek surface of his spaulders all the way down to hold his wrists, feeling his skin hot and damp under yours,

“You’ve felt the same things?” You ask meekly, ashamed of your own lack of self-esteem.

Simon tilts his head to the side, eyes darting back and forth with not only disbelief, but concern and wonder, another smile tugging up the left corner of his mouth. It’s softer this time, one that only serves to make you melt further into him as he speaks,

“Yeah, sweet girl, I have. I hadn’t felt anything for a long, long time before I met you. Got to know you from afar, got to see the way you treat those around you even when they don’t deserve it-”

He leans down to press his forehead to yours,

“You called me good, and kind, but I couldn’t disagree more. Because it’s only for you. You showed me what humanity can be, you gave me hope in what I’ve fought for my whole life, since I was old enough to wield a sword. I’ve won wars for old wretches, and young bastards, who’ve never even seen the soil on a battlefield..”

You hang on to his every word, relishing in his thick accent, memorizing every sound to his voice because you don’t think he’s ever spoken so much in one sitting,

“But you.. little queen, have given me a hope I thought was long lost. A hope for somethin’ more, a reason for the atrocities committed at my hand.”

He kisses you this time, it’s quick and soft, but somehow even better than the first one, somehow you feel more behind it, you feel so much of him that it steals the breath from your lungs,

“I’m goin’ to get you out of here. I swear it.”

thank you for being here 🥹

[chapter 6>>>]

[soulthrifted]

About - The reader finds themself overwhelmed by their godly parent’s absence and Luke comforts them.

Pairing - Luke Castellan/Reader

Warnings - Hurt/Comfort

A/N - I’m not too happy with this one for I feel like it could be longer, but I hope you enjoy it!! I also didn’t proofread much so I apologize for any mistakes with in the writing.

-[ Made for you ]-

Sometimes being a kid of a godly being isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It can be lonely and tiring. Never knowing what your parents truly want from you. Never knowing what you were truly made made for. That’s what I’m feeling right now as I take my anger, my sadness, out on a practice dummy at the training arena. I slice it over and over as tears stream down my face. Each time I slice at the dummy another sob leaves my throat. It’s late at night, the arenas lights are off and the only thing illuminating me is the soft glow of the moon. Why doesn’t he talk to me? Slice. Why doesn’t he care? Slice. What does he want from me. Slice. Why won’t he talk to me? Slice. Does he even care? I collapse to the ground, my body finally gives out and my arm goes slack. My sword clangs to the ground and I can no longer control my cries, I’m just tired. Tired of not knowing. Tired of begging for attention from my own father. I’m so tired.

I can hear footsteps approaching me, but I don’t stop crying. As much as I want to I can’t. I can’t stop. I don’t stop when I hear my name called out. I don’t stop when the soft footsteps turn heavy, they must be running. I don’t stop when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I don’t stop when I feel the person pull me flush against them. Instead I cry into their shirt. I cry as they hold me tightly. I cry as Luke Castellan’s familiar voice whispers sweet things to me. “It’s okay, (name). I’m here now. It’s okay.” I feel him rub comforting circles on my back. The attempt to calm me down only causes me to cry harder. I try to speak, but all that leaves my throat is another sob.

Luke and I sit like this for what feels like an eternity. He holds me closely until my sobbing stops and silent tears stream down my face. I pull away from the crook of his neck and look at him sadly. I know my face is red and puffy from crying, Luke doesn’t care. He reaches up and wipes the remaining tears from my face. His touch is gentle. He’s always so gentle. “It’s okay.” He whispers again “I’m here.” He flashes me a soft smile. There’s not an ounce of pity in his eyes. He doesn’t pity me, he understands me. He knows why I’m crying. He knows why I’m so hurt. He always knows. I don’t know how he always knows. Maybe it’s the years of friendship we have between us. Maybe it’s his excellent analyzation skills. Whatever it is, I’m greatful for.

In the tapestry of my life, Like stands as the unchanging thread that weaves through every moment. He’s always here giving me unwavering support through both my good moments and my bad. Luke’s consistency is not just a fleeting assurance; it’s a timeless commitment that assures me he will always be there for me.

I rest my forehead against his and place both my hands on either side of his face. I whisper a small ‘thank you’ to him. My voice is raspy and corse from crying, but he doesn’t care.

He squeezes my side in acknowledgment of what I said. “There’s no need to thank me, I’ll always be here for you.” I close my eyes and take in the comfort that Luke provides. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks and I shake my head.

“No. Not at all.” I pull my head away from his and my hands fall onto his shoulders. He nods his head in understanding and his hand reaches up to wipe away the last tears that fell from my face.

“You’re perfect, (name). I want you to know that. Your father is an idiot for not answering you, for not seeing the woman you’ve become.” He pushes a price of my hair behind my ear and I feel as if my skin has been lit aflame. “He doesn’t deserve your tears. He doesn’t deserve you.” his hand falls from my face and captures my hand instead. He pulls it up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to my knuckle. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

I shake my head again. “I don’t want to go back to my cabin.” I say as Luke helps me up from the ground.

“They you can stay with me.” He says as we begin walking towards the Hermès’ Cabin. When we walk inside I take in the familiar walls, the comforting smell and the warmth of the cabin. I spent my first two years at camp in this cabin with Luke. It took me a long time to prove myself to my father. It took a long time for him to claim me. When I was claimed and I moved into my new cabin, it didn’t feel like home. It still doesn’t. For me, home is not a place, but it is a person. Home is wherever Luke Castellan is.

I watch as he pulls back the covers of his bed and lays down in it, patting the spot next to him. This isn’t the first time we’ve shared a bed together for a night, and it likely won’t be the last. When we lived in the same cabin I used to snuggle up next to him when he had a nightmare or was just simply feeling alone. I lay in the bed beside him and his arms immediately wrap themselves around me. I snuggle close to him, enjoying the warmth his body provides.

I fall asleep finally knowing what I was made for. I was made for Luke Castellan as he was made for me.

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Slashers when their S/O is crying

Jason Voorhees

Jason first notices how eerily quiet it is when he comes home to the little shack you both live in. Normally you come out to greet him as soon as you hear him come in, so he is pretty alarmed.

He finds you sitting next to your bed, wrapped up in blankets and with reddened eyes.

His immediate reaction is anger; not at you but at who- or whatever caused you to be in this state. He kneels down in front of you and cups your face with both hands to make you look at him. You give him a shakey smile.

“Oh, hi, Jason. I didn’t hear you come home.” You pull the blankets around you even tighter. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just having a really bad brain day, that’s all.”

He sits down next to you and pulls you onto his lap, so you can curl up against him. And he will not let you go until you’re feeling better.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy doesn’t mind you sleeping more than usual, after all, the more you sleep, the more time he gets with you. But even he notices that the time you spend sleeping is getting pretty excessive. And even worse, when you pop up in his realm, you look like a complete mess. Your eyes are red, you walk around like a zombie and are obviously dealing with a very stubborn runny nose.

“Who do I need to kill?”, he asks, all business. He isn’t really the type to offer emotional support but he is always quick to offer practical help. If that practical help is murder, at least, and really, isn’t it always?

“I just had a shitty day at work”, you reply lamely.

“Every day has been a shitty day at work for the past month or so.”

“Yeah…”

He remains quiet for a short moment. “So who do I need to kill? A coworker? Your boss?”

“You can’t solve every problem with murder, Fred.”

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do.”

“I mean”, he continues. “It’s usually not my style to go after adults, but I would make an exception if they’re messing with you. I could make it look like and accident, or a sudden heart attack in their sleep, or-”

“Fred”, you interrupt him, finding the familiar feeling of a giggle bubbling up in your chest. That son of a gun actually managed to help you forget your stress for a bit. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”

“Suit yourself.”

Vincent Sinclair

He somehow got it in his head that secretly drawing you would be a fantastic idea. It would be the drawing-version of candid shots. Capture you at your most natural, when you think that nobody else is watching.

What he did not expect, however, was to find you curled up on the couch, quietly sobbing to yourself.

He drops the sketchbook and pen onto the nearest table and sits down next to you.

You flinch. “Oh… Vincent.” You wipe at your eyes. “It’s nothing, don’t worry, it’s just…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I…I was helping Lester with the roadkill pit, and we came across a deer that had just been hit, and it was still alive, and…” Your voice dies in your throat. “The poor thing looked so scared.”

Odd, really, how you could see humans die, and even help their killers, but seeing an animal in such a pitiful state is too much for you. “I don’t think Lester is gonna let me help him again anytime soon.”

Vincent lets you lean on him and gently rubs your shoulders and back to soothe you, until your sniffles slowly die down and you doze off in his arms.

Brahms Heelshire

He sees you crying through the crack in the walls, and immediately feels his protective instinct flare up. Who hurt you? Hell, who COULD hurt you? You hardly ever left the house. Had someone said something to you over the phone? Had you gotten a letter than upset you?

He says your name, in his child-like voice, which gets your attention. “Please stop crying. I don’t like it when you cry.”

You straighten up and put on a brave face. “It’s alright, Brahms, I’m fine.” You go quiet for a moment. “Brahms, you never took any letters or phonecalls meant for me, did you?”

“No”, he replies honestly. He had toyed with the idea to isolate you like that, of course, but in the end, even Brahms’ selfishness had limits.

Your eyes fill with tears once again. “Not once have any of my family or friends tried to contact me, ever since I arrived here. Do they not care about me?”

Brahms is quiet. What is he supposed to say to that? “Then…. if your family and friends don’t care about you, then I will care about you extra hard to make up for it.”

You wipe the tears away again and find yourself smiling.

Oh Brahms… Never change.

Bubba Sawyer

Unless you have been raised that way, like the Sawyers were, the ethical implications of eating human meat do occasionally catch up to you. And then you find yourself bent over the toilet, or a bucket, sobbing in between bouts of noisy vomiting.

You only notice Bubba when he starts stroking your head, and smearing the blood on his hand all over your hair in the process.

You try to somehow regain your composure, while Bubba helps you up and urges you to the nearest chair. The fact that that chair is made of human bones and decorated with even more human bones however doesn’t really help matters.

When you show no sign of calming down, Bubba panics a little. He looks around, trying to think of a way to make you feel better. Then he rushes out of the room. After a few seconds, you hear clucking, and Bubba comes back, trailing feathers and bedding from the chicken room behind him, and with his favourite chicken cradled in his arms. He carefully places the animal on your lap, urging you to hold onto it.

The chicken, quite used to being held and handled, is warm and soft. You run your fingers over its feathers, chuckling softly when it idly pecks at the sleeves of your shirt.

“Thank you, Bubsy”, you say. “Didn’t think that cuddling with a chicken was what I needed, yet here I am.” After a moment of silence, you add:”...Can you keep stroking my hair? That was nice, too.”

Bubba, of course, happily obliges.

[bhaalspawn300]

My love is sick

Astarion x GN Tav

Summary- From knowing nothing but pain to suddenly being treated with care Astarion can’t help but feel like there’s always a shoe waiting to drop…

Notes- kind of a wee venty work….im sorry…I will write fluff….at somepoint…anyway its midnight rn and I’ve typed this on my phone so apologises if theirs Grammer mistakes I’ll fix them tomorrow on my laptop lel

Sickly sweet.

That’s the only way Astarion can describe how he feels hearing how soft Tav speaks to him. Every soft spoken words of reassurance makes him feel sick, every comforting touch burns his skin, every kind action from them makes him feel disgusted, after everything they know about him from his time under Cazador, to the many lives he ruined using his charms after everything they both and their party have been through how can they still look at him with those eyes full of love? It disgusts him.

It disgusts Astarion to his very core that their wasting their time with him, he expects them to use him or grow tired of him but yet their still here, their still by his side after breaking his trance from the nightmares, they still offer their blood to him when needed, they still offer a shoulder for him to cry on, it truly turns his stomach that someone who radiates as much love and warmth as the sun would even spare him a second glance

“-Starion is everything okay? You’ve been glaring at your glass for the last minuet”

Shaking himself free from his thoughts he looks towords them only to be met with those eyes of concern

“I know the wine isn’t the best but I don’t think the glass deserves that glare”

Avoiding their eyes astarion can’t help but let out a sigh of frustration as he hears Tav continue to speak with nothing but kindness his anger and fear begin to bubble past boiling point as he is unable to contain his emotions as he slams the cup in the table before letting all his anger and fear come pouring out

“PLEASE JUST STOP”

Unable to hold in all the feelings Astarion can feel himself begin to spill out all his thoughts he’s tried to keep at bay and unable to stop

“JUST STOP TREATING ME AS A EQUAL CAUSE WE BOTH KNOW THAT ITS A LIE”

Feeling the air in the air turn to ice and feeling the eyes of their companions on them Tav just stays silent while letting Astarion unleash everything

“WHY DO YOU STILL PRETEND TO CARE?! IS IT FOR THE PITTY POINTS?! FOR THE THRILL OF HAVINF A VAMPIRE SPAWN IN YOUR PARTY”

“Of course not Star please jus-“

“WHY DO YOU CARE SO MUCH FOR A BROKEN SPAWN LIKE ME?!”

Feeling himself struggle to keep the tears at bay and clenching his fists even harder he can’t help but to look to the ground to avoid their look of pity

“I’m not even useful anymore so why do you still care”

Slowly raising from their chair and making their way over to Astarion, gently taking his hand into their own running their thumbs alongside his knuckles

“My star I do not pretend to care about you for pity nor to use you, I’m sorry that no one else has shown you such care and love in 200 years”

Placing a small kiss to his knuckles they let one of his hands free bring their hand to cup his face to slowly wipe his tears away

“I wish you could see yourself how I see you, I love you more than the gods, I’d fight the nine hells and back just to prove to you how much my heart is yours”

Snapping his head up to meet their eyes for the first time in what feels like forever Astarion can’t help but look at them with eyes full of hope but still holding a sense of fear

“For as long as I live and breath you own my heart Astarion not out of pity nor greed but for love, I’ll always be here for you and with you for as long as you’ll have me”

Feeling his lip tremble he can’t help but squeeze their hand as reassurance,

Smiling towards him and asking for his permission before making their way closer and bringing him into a warm embrace Astarion finally lets go of all the pain and doubt he felt as he also lets out a small apology for his outburst as he melts into the embrace while Tav holds him securely while playing with the curls in his

“I hope it’s okay for me to love you forever my star”

[scoutswritingcorner]

Cowboy Romance

Striker x GN!Reader

TW: Fighting, NSFW at the end. 

A/N: I love me a cowboy- especially an evil cowboy..LOVE IT. So let me say- cowboy enemies to lovers? 

-☠️ Striker doesn’t believe in love- he thinks it’s a weakness and a weakness anyone can exploit. 

-☠️So when he sees you, oh god he immediately wants to take you out of the picture. He has a whole plan and back up plan. This man hates you so much.

-☠️ So whenever you keep evading his attacks or just ignoring him it pisses him off even more. Don’t you get it? He hates you so you should hate him.

-☠️ While you- you maybe a farm hand or just another assassin that’s looking for some kinda work or just visiting the Wrath ring! You’ve seen him around and you don’t give a shit about him or you do but you're keeping it hush hush.

-☠️Either way the constant run ins with this crazy man are enough to piss you off to the point where you fight back! Setting up a trap or two, staying up at night cause he’s a sneaky bastard and possibly getting a hit on him, he’s not invincible but he’s strong. So good luck.

-☠️ All in all- this ends up with a lot of sexual tension and then later that evening when your patching yourself up you realize you have a crush on the sneaky bastard. But when he realizes that he caught feelings? Oh boy his anger ramps up to 100% and he’s about to fucking snap. He can’t be having a moment of weakness!

-☠️ And one faithful evening he comes to kill you off for good but it goes sideways and now you both are making out. 

His gloved hands slammed you down onto the ground as he crawled on top of you, never breaking the kiss that has you both breathless and grasping at each other. Your fist balling up his shirt as his tongue easily evades your mouth asserting his dominance over the situation but by how his hands keep touching you tell you how desperately he needed you close to him. “This doesn't mean shit.” He hissed out as he pulled away from the kiss, his tail whipping around behind him. “Uh huh, sure thing cowboy.” You replied, staring up into his yellow eyes, noses brushing together as neither of you made a move to get away. But how he pressed his lips onto yours in a much more gentle manner told you otherwise.

-☠️ So when y’all are in a relationship after months of him breaking into your house or where ever you were staying to make out with you. He’s much sweeter, still kinda rough around the edges but you only get to see the softer side of him.

-☠️ He strikes me as a man who loves it when you rub his back as you both are laying down. Or when you take his hat off of his head to cover up the fact you are kissing.

-☠️ He lets you ride Bombproof with him, and if you don’t know how to ride a horse, he’s teaching you. Like the whole nine yards, don’t worry he’s right beside you guiding the horse around like the true cowboy gentleman he is.

-☠️ He’s constantly busy but he tries to make time for you and on special occasions say date night, birthday, anniversary, etc and he can’t make it because of work? He’s sending you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a promise of being home as soon as he can.

You huffed watching the clock tick silently, Striker was out doing Satan knows what and you were stuck in a safer place than he was, your phone buzzed alive with texts but not from him. He always called on a burner phone or didn’t call at all. As the clock struck midnight you frowned, he had officially missed your date but you knew his job so you couldn’t hold it against him. A loud knock shook you out of your pity party causing you to rush over and open the door, a random imp holding the large vase of your favorite flowers. Taking it from the imp you quickly say ‘thank you’ before closing the door to put the vase of flowers on the table. A note hidden in the flowers catch your attention, you quickly open it and read it as a smile graces your lips,

‘Sorry for the late bouquet, Darlin. I’ve been busy as you know but I wanted to make it up to you since I can’t be there but I promise as soon as I’m finished here I’ll be heading your way to actually make up for it. With love, yours truly ~S’

-☠️He likes to have a hand on you all the time, his tail curls around your leg or your tail if you have one. If you’re out on the road with him and Bombproof, he’s letting you cuddle up to him the whole time.

-☠️ He loves singing to you and about you all the time. Some folks who have been his targets have heard him singing about his little ‘Desert Flower’ before meeting their untimely demise.

-☠️ He loves showing off for you and showing how tough he is. He’s like a little peacock, please give him some kisses so he can stop flexing for you.

-☠️ Won’t let you touch his weapons. Not because he doesn’t trust you with them but they are super fucking dangerous and he wants to protect you. Speaking of protecting you- this man is super fucking protective and will not hesitate to either put a bullet in someone or break their bones for putting you in harms way.

NSFW BELOW HERE MINORS GET OUT 18+

-☠️ Most of the time you both are making out, it turns into ripping your clothes off one another and fucking like wild animals.

-☠️ He’s a dom for sure. Like you can try be somehow always wrangles you to the ground so he has more control over how he fucks you.

-☠️ Has a thing for being called ‘Sir’. No, I will not apologize. 

-☠️ His favorite position is either missionary, cowgirl or you sitting on his lap. He just likes to watch your face as he pleasures you. 

-☠️ Grab his horns if he’s going down on you, he loves it so much. Also wear his hat, if you know you know. Honestly wearing any of his clothes usually does the trick.

-☠️ He can be gentle and will be gentle if you want him to be but he likes it rough. Especially when it starts off gentle and slow then escalates to everything being rough.

[muffinsin]

A recent request of our G!P Cassandra first being dominated, then taking control ;) let’s get into it!

Masterlist

You could live this moment forever, chant prayers and such to will it to never stop. You wiggle your hips teasingly, chuckling at the groan coming from under you.

Cassandra Dimitrescu lays on the bed, a rare beauty tamed and moaning freely for you, her arms bound in black rope and raised above her, her nipples hard for you. Her cock is deep in you as you straddle her, her legs, hips and thighs are tightly tied to the bed. She is helpless, in a way, and it would be futile to attempt to control the tempo you set.

Unlucky enough for the brunette, this tempo happens to be a slow and sensual one. You know exactly what it did to your precious lover.

The impatient brunette attempts to raise her hips every few seconds, the rope cutting into them and burning her skin as it rubs against her. The pain only aroused her more, as you know very well.

If she had not been such an enormous brat all week, you would perhaps take pity on her, edged for hours without being allowed inside of you at all and now, finally inside you, unable to thrust quickly as she desired.

Another move of your hips. Your hands set on her waist as you ride her slowly.

“Fa-ahster!”, she demands, begs. Golden eyes look beautifully desperate. It’s the vulnerability in them that makes you treasure the moment even more, or any in which the beauty submits to you.

“No, Cassandra, you’re not setting the place here.”, your words are simple, and have the woman whine and groan. She feels so sensitive and good, yet frustrated.

How could she get off properly if she isn’t allowed to thrust hard and fast inside of you? Her cock is painfully hard and needy, drooling precum inside of you.

Your hands move on her breasts, toying with them as she closes her eyes. Your hips follow a steady rhythm, rising and dropping, moving back and forth slowly. It’s driving her insane.

“Moan for me, my good girl”

She doesn’t care much for the praise, cumming the only thing on her mind. She is so desperate, she doesn’t think twice of obeying and releases her lip without even noticing that she bit down on it, allowing the noises the slow tempo caused to spill out.

Needy moans and groans, at the pleasure she received,

Breathless and surprised, when she feels you tug and pinch her nipples, the pain overwhelmingly good,

Pathetic whimpers as she wordlessly begs you to go faster. You don’t listen, and don’t want to.

Her frustration grows immensely, she is so close and wants nothing more than to grab you.

“Must I teach you to value what is given to you, you dirty thing?”, you snap as she complains about the pace again. “Again?”, you add with a smirk. You’d never grow tired at seeing her squirm at the harsh tone and words.

Cassandra shakes her head and groans when you grip her chin. She smells herself on you, her scent lingering on your skin especially after you had edged her for so long.

Her tongue sticks out when you squeeze harder and she gasps in embarrassment at the automatic response, pulling her tongue back inside her mouth and praying her cheeks didn’t light up.

You raise your eyebrow, hips becoming completely still. This draws a desperate yelp from her.

“No, you don’t have to teach me”, she assures, behaving once again. “Please, faster”. The word “Please” feels odd on her lips and tongue even as you had drawn it multiple times from her in the past.

“Good”, is your only response, your fingertip brushing over her lips as you ride her again. An idea comes to your mind, a petname just for your submissive lover. You can’t help but try it out just when you start riding her a tiny bit faster for a moment, giving her hope.

“You like that, don’t you, bunny?”

Golden eyes widen, anger and humiliation and arousal flashing in them all at the same time. She attempts to talk, but moans when you ride her fast for a moment, then whimpers pathetically when you slow down again. She grits her teeth.

Maybe you shouldn’t be toying with a predator this way. Maybe.

She groans when you tug her nipple. Just as she gets close again, you move even slower.

Cassandra snaps.

You gasp in surprise when her nails easily rip the rope restraining her and she sets her hands on your hips, gripping them as she sits up and thrusts into you, hard and fast and at a rough pace.

Her eyes roll backwards as her nails dig into you, the sweet scent of your blood filling her nostrils.

A hand at the back of her head guides her to your breasts. She continues her hard and fast thrusts, hips burning as she uses you. Your legs are spread wide and moans ripple from your lips.

“Go-ah- good job, bunny!”, you groan, head thrown back when she sucks a nipple into her mouth. Cassandra feels too many things at once, frustration and eagerness, arousal and humiliation. She hates and loves the petname at the same time. Her cock is hard, she’s so close in you. She can tell you are too.

The wind is knocked from your lungs temporarily as she flips you, railing hard as she makes your body move up and down on the bed with each heavy thrust. She feels her face being cupped.

“You’ll cum first today, Cassandra”

A command or request, neither of you know for sure, and neither care.

The edged brunette doesn’t think twice, groaning as she cums. But she doesn’t have enough, never does, ever the greedy brat.

You feel your own orgasm approaching as she uses you, lips all over you smearing black lipstick across your skin, fingers groping and claw-like nails scratching.

Her teeth nibble on your neck, ready to dig in at any moment.

Your hips buck up, you feel so sensitive. “Be good now, morsel”, she demands from you. She is not above denying you your orgasm after being edged by you for so long. In fact, she could easily deliver payback by using you like a cumdump without allowing you the same release just once.

Alas, it just feels too good when you do cum around her, squeezing her tight and wetting her cock with cum.

Cassandra shivers, on the edge again. She doesn’t bother holding back her orgasms properly, there is plenty of cum left in her, plenty of energy too.

You moan her name loud and clear when you cum, screaming when her teeth dig in and her orgasm hits her.

[rory-multifandom-mess]

Hi! You want angst, yes?

Thuzi with prompts 2 and 14!

me: hm what prompts are those me: me: oh my fuck YES

Anyway mr. Anon I am kissing you on the mouth

2. "Please don't leave me" and 14. "I'll always love you"

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

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Thad and Uzi walked down the hallway, hand in hand, laughing along. It had been a long time since he had last seen her smiling, and he was so happy that he was the one to make her so happy. Her smile was genuine, different from the usual fake and passive aggressive smiles she'd give other people.

Suddenly, they were stopped by Rebecca and Darren.

“Oh, hey guys, what’s-” Thad started, quickly being interrupted by Rebecca.

“I can’t believe you’re dating that freak,” She said, a disgusted look on her face.

“He can date whoever he wants!” Uzi snapped, stomping her foot forward and squeezing Thad’s hand.

Thad gently placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to stay calm.

“You can do better than that, man,” Darren added, ignoring Uzi.

Thad glared at Darren, not appreciating the insults towards his girlfriend.

“Hey, back off. I don’t judge you for dating Rebecca,” He said, keeping his voice stern and low.

“What does that mean?!” Rebecca snapped.

“Nothing! I’m just saying. I don’t barge into your dating life, so don’t go barging into mine,” Thad explained, furrowing his brow.

Rebecca and Darren remained silent as Thad huffed.

“Uzi, let’s go,” He turned to her and smiled, his expression softening, “We can cuddle and watch that anime you’ve been wanting to watch after school.”

Uzi gasped, her face lighting up. She pumped her arm excitedly as they walked past, pushing through Darren and Rebecca.

“Thanks for standing up for me, Thad,” Uzi said quietly.

“Of course, Zi. No one gets to insult my girlfriend,” He said proudly.

Rebecca’s voice cut between them.

“You know, Darren, Thad is probably just dating her out of pity,” She said with a snarky tone, clearly wanting Thad and Uzi to hear.

They stopped in their tracks. Thad’s oil began to boil.

“Yeah. I would never risk my popularity just to make someone feel better,” Darren agreed.

Thad gritted his teeth and bit his tongue. Don’t cause a scene. Don’t cause a scene.

“He’s got a good act though, even Uzi’s convinced!” Rebecca laughed.

Thad inhaled to speak, when Uzi suddenly let go of his hand and whipped around. He looked at her surprised, his core sinking.

“Don’t you two ever shut up?!” Uzi screamed, digital tears pricking her eyes, her hands clasped into fists and her eyelights hollow.

“Uzi-” Thad started, turning to her, his anger replaced with worry.

“We’re not wrong! You can tell, just look at Thad’s face. He’s worried about himself,” Rebecca answered, blatantly lying.

Thad tensed, his own eyelights hollowing. His mouth hung open, his words getting caught in his throat.

Uzi turned her head to him, a look of fear and heartbreak on her face. She searched his expression for something— anything— to prove them wrong.

Thad’s heart sank, seeing her expression. He glanced away nervously, trying to think of what to say.

Uzi took it the wrong way. Her brows narrowed, glaring daggers at Thad. She shoved him away and spun on her heel, running away as she yelled back. “BITE ME!”

“Uzi!” Thad called, turning in the direction that she ran, devastation clear on his face.

He knew it wasn’t her fault. She had abandonment issues, that much he knew. The posters in the mechanic’s office with Khan said everything. But what Darren and Rebecca did, targeting them— and for what reason?

Thad’s devastation slowly swirled and mixed, bubbling and boiling into anger. He grit his teeth and balled his hands into fists. He tried to regulate his breathing as well as he could, but the anger was so strong. He felt a burning in his core, a usual feeling he’d get when he was about to overheat. But this time he knew it wasn’t overheating. This was a representation of his anger and fury, like a bomb ready to explode.

“Well…” Darren said as he came up beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leaning on him, one leg wrapped around the other and his other hand on his hip, “Saved you from that disaster in the ma-”

Thad raised his arm and whipped around, slamming his fist into his face as hard as he could. Something snapped in Darren’s face as he fell back and off of Thad, falling to the ground.

Darren’s jaw hung loose, a huge dent in the side of his face, the joint broken and a crack running up through his display. Darren looked up at Thad with anger, though it was quickly replaced with a look of fear. Rebecca ran to her boyfriend’s side, holding his arm and following his gaze.

Thad stood over them, his fist still balled and held up. He breathed heavily yet slowly, seething with anger so hot that his display glitched every now and then. His brows were furrowed and eyelights hollow, two stress lines under each eye.

“Leave Uzi and I alone,” Thad threatened, his voice low and angry, “Or else it’ll be more than just your jaw that I’ll be breaking.”

Thad didn’t dare to stick around. He turned on his heel and ran off after Uzi, ignoring the pain in his knuckles.

“Uzi!” He called out, looking around frantically and accidentally running straight into someone else. She yelped and staggered back.

Thad rubbed his head and looked up, finding himself face to face with Lizzy.

“Oh, good!” He said, relieved, “Have you seen Uzi?”

“What?”

“Have you seen Uzi?” He repeated.

“Uh… Yeah, she ran in there,” Lizzy said her voice full of confusion as she gestured to a nearby classroom with its lights off.

Thad smiled, patting her shoulder as a thank you and sprinting to the door. He slowed down before he entered and took a deep breath, calming his nerves. Then he put his hand on the door handle and turned it, pushing it open. He stepped in and looked around.

“Uzi?” He asked calmly.

He heard a sniffle from the corner of his room, spotting a purple glow.

“What do you want?” Uzi asked, her voice shaking and wavering.

Thad frowned. He felt horrible. She didn’t need to have his friends going after her just because the two of them are dating.

“I want to talk to you,” Thad said cautiously, slowly walking towards her. He stopped a few steps away from her and sat down against the wall, his legs close to his chest.

She turned her head slightly, just enough for him to see her purple eye peaking out.

“About what? They were right. You showed me that enough.”

“No! No, not at all! They were wrong, every single thing they said,” He turned to her, his knees hitting the floor using one of his hands to hold himself up, the other tracing out to her, “Everything they said were lies.”

Uzi didn’t respond. He kept going.

“I love you for who you are, Uzi. I love how weird you are because it’s interesting and different and awesome. You are more important to me than any single trophy or big football game.” He scooted closer, sincerity etched in his voice.

“You are wonderful, Uzi,” He continued, sitting up so he could reach both of his hands out, “And you’re the best girlfriend a guy like me could ever ask for. I’ll always love you, Uzi. No matter what some jerk like Darren or prissy girl like Rebecca says, Not even what Lizzy might say.”

Uzi turned her head fully to him, staring into his eyes. The room was dark, his features only illuminated by her purple lights and his green hues. Despite the darkness, she could tell he was genuine, through his voice and his concerned expression. She looked at his hand and reached out, taking it in hers.

Thad smiles softly at her touch and scoots close to her, wrapping his arm around her and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She leaned back against him and closed her eyes, putting her hand over the one he had placed on her leg, gently running her thumb over his knuckles.

As she felt, something caught her attention.

“…Why do your knuckles have dents in them?” She asked quietly, her voice frazzled.

“Oh, uh…” Thad nervously, a bead of sweat showing on his display. “I punched Darren.”

“Oh. Badass,” Uzi said, closing her eyes again, “Did you break his face?”

“I broke his jaw and I saw a crack on his visor.”

“Nice.”

The two sat in comfortable silence, leaning against each other with their eyes closed. Time felt as if it had stopped just to let them cuddle there for a while, enjoying each other’s company. They both wished that was true.

The bell suddenly rang, signaling the start of their next class.

Thad opened his eyes and sat up. “Oh, crap, we’re late,” He said frantically, pushing himself up to stand, “C’mon Uzi, we gotta-”

“Wait!” Uzi sat up quickly, grabbing him by the wrist. He looked down at her, surprised and confused, but his expression softened when he saw her scared face.

“P…Please don’t leave me, Thad,” She pleaded quietly, her voice shaking.

Thad stared at her for a moment. He’d be skipping class, and his dad would no doubt be upset with him, but… oh, who cares. Uzi needs him right now. He smiled and nodded at her, sitting back down by her side.

“Okay, Uzi. I’ll stay.”

She smiled faintly and leaned back against him, intertwining their fingers.

“Thank you. I love you, Thad.”

His heart fluttered. She hadn’t been saying it back to him this whole time, and he didn’t want to rush it, but this— this got him excited. He wouldn’t make a fuss out of it though. He knew it would only embarrass her. He simply wiggled his free hand a little to get his excitement out.

“I love you too, fruitbat,” He said sweetly, leaning on her as well and kissing her forehead.

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THIS IS THE LONGEST ONE YET AND I’M SO HAPPY WITH IT,,,, AAAGH. I need to draw or see that part where Thad is standing over Rebecca and Darren so bad. Maybe when I get home. ANYWAY ENJOY

~~~~~~~

Prompt Post! Lizzy x Doll; "Stay with me forever"/"Because I love you!" N x V; "I thought you didn't want me"/"Why haven't you kissed me yet?" V x Thad; "I'm in love with you" V x Thad "I missed you so much"/"I can't stay away from you" N x Thad; "Can I kiss you?" N x Thad; "I want you. Only you." V x Thad; "I thought you didn't want me." Sam x Uzi; "The way I feel with you"/"I can't stay away from you." Uzi x Thad; "Please don't leave me"/"I'll always love you" <- You are here! N x Thad; "Please marry me"/"Why haven't you kissed me yet?" N x Uzi; "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen"/"I'm better when I'm with you" J x Thad; "Please don't leave me"/"I'm better when I'm with you."

[theblueflower05]

Hmmm how about Alpha!reader overstimulating Omaga!Lo’ak because she was jealous seeing him being a little too nice to another female alpha. So she punishes him from sunset to sunrise. Idk if this is any good but just a thought, Love. ABSOLUTELY LOVING YOUR A/B/O series, can’t wait for the next chapter 😘

This is probs my fave slutty ask I’ve gotten. When I saw it I fucking SCREAMED.

It also is kind of a sister story to my Tsireya x Jealous Reader. Like same same, but flipped.

You’re possessive, and it’s not something that you hide.

Lo’ak learned it pretty early on in your relationship. You’re an extremely transparent person, you wear your emotions on your face and your heart on your sleeve. He appreciates it because it because as someone who’s always eager and anxious to impress, you don’t keep him guessing much. You tell him what you feel, what you want.

And you want him to be yours, and only yours.

Smut under the cut

It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You’re not nasty about it- you don’t snarl at him for spending time with his friends and family. You encourage other healthy relationships in his life. You’re a good woman, his father reassures him proudly. A good alpha, Neytiri tacks on for good measure.

You have zero tolerance for other alphas touching what is yours.

You’re gentle, a weaver. Not known to the clan as a warrior or hunter. Your parents are passed onto Eywa, and even when they were still Pandora bound, they weren’t high standing members of the clan- and yet. You’ve carved out a place for yourself. You’re respected, as a young capable alpha in your prime.

You don’t enjoy fighting, don’t enjoy being angry or violent. But you will become so, to protect what is yours.

Lo’ak had never seen your temper flare the way it had earlier, down at the beach.

It was a little scary- to see you like that. Your powder blue eyes that are usually so soft had gone hard, your pupils slits. The snarl that had left you had made almost all around you take a step back- it was all Alpha. Powerful. Full of rage. A warning for bloodshed.

It had taken two Alphas, twice your size, to drag you off and he’d watched with large golden eyes. In complete shock. At the unfortunate unfolding of the situation-

“What are you doing? Go to her, you skxawng ” his elder brother had hissed at him, kicking him into action.

Lo’ak had followed like a Viper wolf pup as you broke away from the other alphas- snatching out of their grasps with a huff- and had made your way back to your shared home.

He feels like shit, horribly bad, as he enters the Mauri. His tail between his legs and his ears twitching on his head.

You’re pacing, back and forth. Clearly still upset. Your chest is heaving and your thick take twitches sporadically-

“Y/N” he murmurs, calling to you because you won’t look at him.

You just continue on. Still raging. And it’s hard to watch- especially knowing that he had caused the whole thing.

“Yawne, please-“ he continues, coming forward and reaching out to you. His large five fingered hand coming around your petite wrist.

“No. Do NOT touch me right now” You yank, hard out of his hold, and finally turn to him.

What he sees breaks his heart.

Your eyes are big and swimming, tears leave tracks as they rush down your face. He’d never seen you cry, not like this. The sight alone has the hair on the back of his neck raising-

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Mamas, don’t cry” his tone is hushed, hesitant. He doesn’t know what to do. Everything in him is telling him to rush to you. To hold you, to make you hold him.

“I’m not crying because I’m sad” you snap at him, hating how he’s looking at you with that pitying gaze. “I’m so fucking angry right now Lo’ak”

You almost never call him by his real name- it’s always affectionate pet names. Hearing it makes his ears lower, flat into his braids.

“I could fucking kill her” you seethe. Continuing, because you have to get this anger out somehow “I don’t care if she’s the Olo’eyktans daughter- how dare she lay her hands on you! You’re mated- you wear my bite!”

Tsireya had been a problem for months now. She had always had her eye on Lo’ak and who could blame her? The Omega was gorgeous. Capable. He’d passed his Iknimaya and was a valued hunter.

And he had a fucking wife.

You thought that she’d get that through her thick skull.

And yet her advances never seemed to stop. They were usually small- barley there things. Occurrences that drove you crazy but that you couldn’t really prove.

“She was just being nice-“ Lo’ak urges and you scoff.

“Don’t. Don’t play dumb when I know how smart you are. She touched your scent gland- she may as well have scented you. I can still smell her on you. Even now” you’re voice is shaking as you try to control it.

Lo’ak feels horrible.

He’d chalked Tsireya’s actions up to kindness- since he had arrived in Awa’atlu the Alpha and future Tsahik had been nothing but nice to him and his family. He’d noticed her advances and while flattered, had ignored them. Pushed them to the side.

Why would he focus on any other Alpha when he had you?

He shouldn’t have let it get this far. She was helping train him, like she used to. It was all supposed to be innocent-

The weight of the reality of the situation is crushing. Another Alpha had touched his scent gland. So be it it was the one in his wrist, the most innocent. But still.

A lump sticks in his throat as panic rises in his chest.

What if…what if this changed things? He had been so hesitant, so confused when you’d courted him. Had been even more so when you bonded him. You’re so good, too good for him.

Had you finally gained clarity? Had it donned on you that he wasn’t worth being with?

“Please” Lo’ak begs as he reaches out for you only to be rebuffed once more. It makes hot tears sting at his eyes “please, I’ll be better. I won’t let anything like that happen again- don’t make me leave. Don’t leave me”

Your eyes snap to his and your mouth pulls into a deep frown. You’re too pretty to look so upset. He hates it.

Lo’ak drops to his knees, right in front of you. His neck tilting to the side, his braids falling away. His clear, unprotected throat on display for you.

Only the faint scarring of his bite mark visible.

It’s the ultimate form of submission. Even most Omegas don’t give it so freely. Showing one’s mating bite is intimate. Big. Off limits.

A small gasp leaves your mouth.

He doesn’t care.

He needs you to get it. To understand.

“I’m yours” he vows, like he had the first night youd made Tsaheylu. The first night he’d taken your knot. The first night he’d felt your teeth sink into his skin.

Your hand cups his face and he leans into it. Your still shaking. Still haven’t calmed down. “You’re mine?”

“Yeah.” He whispers, his tongue coming out to wet his dry lips “I’m yours”

“Prove it”

————————

He knew you weren’t going to go easy on him, but holy fuck.

There was no way to foresee just what the night would entail.

You could make Lo’ak cry from pleasure on any given day. Your pretty pussy, your hot mouth, your skilled hands? They could all bring him to tearful orgasms, easily.

This is something different. Lo’ak feels like he’s been broken down to bare bones, to the base of who he is.

It’s been hours, the sky had turned from blue to black- and was on its way to being blue once more. The birds chirp as the dawn breaks-

And still you give him no reprieve.

He’s a mess- flat in his back on the thread bare bed mat. The sheets and bedding had been pushed away ages ago- there was nothing to tangle himself in. To ground himself with.

He can only lay there and take what you give him.

You’d been fucking him for hours. Bouncing on top of his hard cock relentlessly.

The worst part is is that you don’t even look worse off.

No, You’re goddess as you’re perched on-top of him. Beautiful and ethereal- and wrathful.

You ride him like you have something to prove, your hips moving in dizzying circles. You’re so fucking wet, the juices from your pussy drop down, coating your thighs and his groin- you have to be close to coming.

And yet you don’t. That glorious knot never locks around him. He never gets the fulfillment that he truly needs.

You’ve wrung orgasm after orgasm out of him throughout the night- but you haven’t let him cum inside of you. And you haven’t knotted him-

It’s fucking torture. His body needs it. His cock screams, not recieving the intense pressure of you constricting around him when he shoots off is painful. It leaves him feeling frustrated and unsatisfied.

“Please” he gurgles out the plea as he feels the base of his tail start to tingle- a clear sign of the incoming orgasm.

You glare down at him “please, what?”

Lo’aks eyes squeeze shut, the tears running consistently into his hair line. He’s wet everywhere- sticky. A complete mess.

“Please knot me, Alpha. I need your knot”

It’s nasally and whiney and way too fucking loud. Deep down, he knows he should be ashamed of it. The neighbors can hear him getting worked over like this, punishes beyond belief, but he can’t bring himself to care.

If you want them to hear, then he’ll make sure they do.

He’ll do anything you ask.

Your eyes are hard, unforgiving. Still puffy from the furious tears you’d shed and Lo’ak can’t help it.

He reaches up with weak arms to cup your pretty face. His large thumbs rub soothing circles in the delicate skin under your eyes “love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry…I never want to do anything to hurt you”

You go soft on top of him, your hips stoping their mean swivel as all of the fight seems to drain from your body. Your head hangs. Tendrils of your long hair fall in your face-

“As I love you, sweet Omega”

————

Listen I could go in but I’m gonna cut it there lol somehow I end up writing whole ass mini fics for these asks! They’re just too good!

[berryhobii]

I’m Not Done (jhs x reader)

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x black!female!reader

Word Count: 1349

Warnings: Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), hard dom Hoseok, sub reader, standing doggystyle, unprotected sex(please speak with your partners before engaging in this), against a door sex, oral(m and f receiving), throat fucking, denied orgasm, fingering(f receiving), illusions to punishment, spanking, Hoseok is jealous!!🤪

A/N: Hi there! I wrote this after seeing that photo of Hoseok in that dior outfit at a concert. I believe it was LYSY Osaka. That one outfit almost made me swerve from Namjoon but even though the streets were calling my name, I did not stumble!🤣anyway, Gamer!Jungkook is in the works and will be up very soon! Thanks for reading! Criticism is welcomed and I hope my black and melanated girlies feel good reading this! 💜

~

Bare chest pressed against the door, hands held behind your back in his iron grip, you were in absolute heaven.

His hips were meeting your ass with swift motions, your knees close to buckling if not for his hold on you. He pounded in and out of your sopping pussy, the squelching noises not drowning out the whines that you were making against the wood of the door.

Sweat dripped down both of your bodies, making everything that much more wet and slick.

Hoseok’s hand came down harshly on your already aching ass. Even against the brownness of your skin, his hand print was visible. That’s how hard and often he had been striking you.

But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. Rough Hoseok was the best. A welcomed contrast to the doting and sensible husband that you normally saw throughout the day.

Then again, you had crossed a line today. It was only a matter of time before the dam burst and Hoseok’s irritation spilled over into anger.

Normally soft touches were replaced by a tight grip on your wrists, kisses were replaced by bites that littered your throat and shoulders, and tender words were replaced by humiliation and degradation.

And each one made your cunt leak even more.

“You fucking slut. You thought that shit was cute?” He growled, yanking your wrists back harder so that your back arched further. The move caused your shoulders to ache but if anything, it just added to your already growing pleasure. You felt like you could cum at any moment but you knew you couldn’t. Not without permission. However, the anticipation of another punishment did sound appetizing.

Your mouth was dropped open, drool spilling from the sides, eyes crossing and toes curling in your stilettos.

Hoseok used his other hand to grab at the front of your throat, hauling you up until your back was against his chest, his hips never faltered.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He seethed against your ear.

You wanted to answer him so badly but his cock was knocking your vocabulary loose. All those years learning Korean were useless now. You couldn’t even answer was 1+1 was if someone asked you.

He obviously didn’t like your lack of response, pulling out of you which pulled a pitiful whine from you. Grabbing you by your hair, he forced you down on the ground, your knees hitting the hardwood. The impact hurt but you didn’t care, not when his leaking cock was just inches from your face.

He roughly tilted your head back so that your blurry eyes met his.

A smirk spread across his face at the vision before him. Your lipstick was smeared, the makeup had come off against the door when he pressed you against it—your lashes were wet from tears, your edges curling back up from where they were perfectly laid before, and your tongue out and begging for more.

Fuck.

“Since you can’t answer, I guess I’ll just have to put your mouth to good use.”

He wasted no time shoving his cock all the way down your throat. The sudden intrusion caused you to gag, your hands lifting to grab at his thighs, eyes watering and tears spilling down your cheeks.

Any other time, he’d punish you for touching him without permission but his orgasm was too close to really care right now.

Giving you no time to adjust, he began thrusting in and out of your throat, the loud ‘gluck gluck gluck’ sounds caused by your wet mouth building that pressure in his tummy.

You relaxed your throat, remembering all of the training you went through to be able to take him. With every thrust, you’d swallow and lick around his cock, trying your best to pleasure him.

He tossed his head back, a low groan coming from him. His hand gripped your hair even tighter, his abs tensing up. You blinked away your tears to get a good look at his face. You loved how he looked when absorbed by pleasure—that crease in his eyebrows, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, the way he pulled his lip between his teeth. You’d watch it all day if you had a chance.

“Shit, I’m cumming. Swallow all of it.”

Forcing his cock all the way down your throat so that your nose was pressed against the hair at the base of his cock, a shudder racked his body as he came. The spurts of his cum flowed down your throat and you did your best to swallow all of it down.

When he was done, he pulled back, chest heaving. His dark eyes stared down at you, his stare making you feel small and defenseless. Like a tiny deer in the view of a hungry lion.

You loved it.

He wasn’t gentle in his movements as he hauled you up by your hair. Your legs wobbled both from being on the ground and from the tingles that your denied orgasm sent through you.

A hard slap to your ass made you yelp, his hand leaving your hair to wrap around your neck. He pressed lightly into your windpipe—the brief lack of oxygen made your brain fuzzy, your knees shook slightly, almost ready to give up on you.

Pushing you against the door again, his hand found its way between your legs, swiping through your wetness. You moaned when his fingers grazed your pitiful clit, the bundle of nerves neglected and swollen.

Two fingers plunged into you, hooking and ramming into your sweet spot. A scream tore from your mouth, your hands reaching down to grab at his arm but apparently, he didn’t like that.

“Hands off!” He growled, jaw clenching. You were positive he felt how your walls tightened around him.

You hesitated but obeyed, moving your hands to brace yourself against the door. Once your hands met the wood, he began his pace again.

Your mouth dropped open again. “Ohhhhhhhh…..sh-sh-shiiittttt….” Your knees met each other, the pleasure becoming too much. Your entire body was alight and shaking from the sensations—his hand on your throat, the sting from your ass pressed against the door, and now the way he was jamming into your spot. You could have fainted

“Keep your legs open.” He ordered, dark eyes piercing yours.

What you weren’t expecting was for him to drop to his knees, his hand leaving your throat and allowing you to take a deep breath. You couldn’t even react before he was leaning forward to latch onto your clit. The feeling of his tongue combined with his fingers starting up again was just too much.

Knowing your body better than you sometimes, he could tell when you were about to cum. Your nails scratched against the door, your whines rose in pitch, and you began to hump against his face. You were an open book to him. He’s explored your body many times and for many hours to know exactly what made you tick.

He pulled away from your clit but his fingers didn’t stop. “Don’t you dare cum. If you do, you’ll regret it.”

You tried. You really tried so hard. And you knew he was being unfair. You both knew you weren’t going to be able to hold it.

Son of a bitch.

“I….I…c-c-can’t….I’m s-sorry…” That’s all you managed to stutter out before one more thrust of his fingers and a rub to your clit sent you over the edge. Your hands left the door to bury in his hair, trying to ground yourself.

2 rules broken within 5 seconds.

You were screwed.

You didn’t even have time to come down before his hand was back around your throat.

Pulling your face close to his, you could smell the gum he had chewed in the car along with the sponge cake he had at the small work gathering you two had attended.

His voice was calm as he spoke to you but for some reason, that made your stomach turn in anxiety.

“Go to the bedroom. Face down, ass up. I’m not done with you.”

[melozykizzes]

broken promises ; part 2 (last part?)

warnings; technically cheating, she/her pronouns are used. zhongli x reader

he’d finally been called off the mission. after 1 year.

he didn’t want to do it, he really didn’t. but, he had signed a contract. once you are called into a mission, you must commence it until it is over. and it can take up to weeks, months, sometimes maybe even years. in this case, it had been a year. of endless fighting to keep up with the balladeer, not once did he catch up with the balladeer, he had just been defeated. he disappointed the tsaritsa. the fatui. his position. most importantly you. he kept trying to brush you off, because he knew it was slowly eating him alive the way he had left things off with you.

now, it was time for him to go home. it has been 2 weeks since he was called off the mission, he explored liyue, camped out in the mountains, slept at the Inn, but he knew that he would have to eventually have to return home. he does miss you, but his pride and ego gets in the way with that. the day he left you, he was so focused on completing the mission, getting validated by his higher ups, admiration from his peers, that he had completely forgotten how this would effect you the way he acted.

he sighs “i really don’t want to do this” he mumbles to himself, he doesn’t want to see you hurt, especially caused by him. he stares at your guy’s “shared” house. then he looks at the door and clenches his fist with sweat rolling down his face. “fuck.” he gives in and rings the door bell. soon then seeing a shadow come from the other side of the door

“zhongli? come in! i told you, you didn’t need to ring the doorbell anymore!”

the door opens up quick. a moment of staring at eachother silently. your heart sinks. your eyes widen “a-ajax? what- what are you doing here?” he takes a step inside as you take a step backwards. “sweetheart!” he takes another step, pulling you into a hug as he closes his eyes as yours are petrified, staring at the blurry outside of your house. “i missed you so much, my lovely Y/N. oh how good it feels to say your name aga-“ before he finishes you push him off from you. making him perplexed. you take a step back and look at him. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you spit at him. he gives you a pitiful look in return, still partly shocked from the sudden action. “hahahah.. what are you talking about? i’m seeing my wife is that a crime?” he chuckles under his breath as his smile fades quickly. you feel yourself fill with anger as your eyes fill with tears “ajax. it has been one year, and 5 months. you have no right showing up here as if nothing happened. and oh! my bad ajax, i forgot you go by tartaglia.” you snarl at him. he just stares at you “n-no i didn’t mean it like that i just-“ you clench your fists “you- you promised me, you promised you’d never treat me like the others did, never hurt me nor leave me” you say, as now tears are strolling down your face “please Y/N, i wasn’t in a good mood. can we please just go back as things were? i promise i will-“ you rub the tears off your face as they keep strolling. “childe. i’m going to need you to get the fuck out of my house.”

“Y/N, honey is there a problem?” childe turns around as he sees the man he was once best friends with, zhongli. his face, once shocked turns into sadness. “oh, it is childe.” zhongli says with a hinting annoyance. he walks in past childe and walks up to you, you run into his arms and hug him and hide your face in his chest as you let the tears start sobbing down your face. he turns his head over to look at the face of betrayal on childe’s face. “excuse me for my behaviour, but what makes you think you have the right, the authority to show up to our house. can’t you see you’ve already hurt Y/N enough?” he looks at childe with, pure anger painted on his face. “wh- what do you “ours”? what the fuck.. no please don’t tell me” childe looks at the floor, slowly beginning to feel all the shame, regret from all the things he had said to you. “childe, are you aware? aware that there was countless days i had to rush over to Y/N’s house because she hadn’t eaten for days? each time i found her, she was one the floor, twitching and sobbing. why? oh i have plenty of reasons for that, childe.” he says as he raised his voice. his eyes darkening. childe looks at you, sobbing into his chest as you have your arms wrapping around his back. he was hoping that it’d be like that when he came back. a tear rolls down his face. “she waited every day for you to come back, or to hear anything from you. she isolated herself. someone had to help her eventually, so why are you surprised childe.” childe let’s out a chuckle as more tears start rolling down his cheeks. he turns around, not wanting to see you with another man, yearning for zhongli’s comfort any longer.

he had fooled himself into making himself believe nothing had happened. he believes that this is the most effective way to deal with things he has no control over, though he could’ve made a change. he realizes, that he was the one that cared too much, not you. he deserves this. he turns around and looks at you and zhongli.

“i always knew i was meant to be alone, instead of having been worth of their love.”

[floralifetime]

Toruk Makto’s Sister

Warning: very bad writing, maybe some gramatical error (English is not my first language, so please be gentle), angst, death of a major charapter, grief, bad words.

Next Chapter

⚠️⚠️The sentence is not mine, credits go to the author⚠️⚠️

Chapter n.1 Goodbye Tommy, I love you.

"The pain suffered at your death is the price for having loved you so much in life"

I still can't believe it happened, Tommy my beloved older brother, is dead. He was treacherously killed by a thief who tried to steal his wallet, given my career in the military I shouldn't be so hurt by someone leaving, I mean, death happens every day from various causes, not all natural, but it's also true that you never really worry about something like this until it affects your loved ones. We were three, now we are only two. Too bad Jakey is on Earth, while I'm on Pandora, not exactly around the corner and so I find myself alone. "Y/N are you here? Can we come in?"

No, not really alone, there's my best friend Trudy and my pseudo-mentor, Grace. Yet since Tommy was killed I find it hard to even think about them, I love them both very much but I feel alienated, as if I see everything and everyone as a mere spectator, as if I don't really live. I hear the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching my bunk, probably knowing me they didn't wait for permission. "Aww Y/N, it's terrible to lose a brother like this. I know." Trudy's voice acts as a switch and in an instant the blockage of my throat melts allowing me to cry all the tears I was trying to hold back to show myself strong in front of the others, to avoid their looks of compassion, their pity. I don't like to be pitied, both here in Pandora base and on Earth, it's just not for me, I've always wanted to be like my two brothers, my role models, my heroes, I think almost all younger sisters have this idea of their brothers, and I had mine. Tommy and Jake are my life and so are Trudy and Grace, I would give my life for them and here I am, mourning the death of someone I love so much and couldn't save. I who have always taken care of their wounds, be they physical or emotional, who have kept their confidences, who have brightened their days and lightened the weights on their shoulders, if they had any. I did everything I could to protect my brother after his injury and I only came here when I was sure Jakey would be okay, because that's how I've always wanted to do, who I've always wanted to be, who cares about those who love and who sacrifice themselves for them, desiring their happiness. And now what do I have left? Tommy's gone, treacherously killed by a bastard that if I ever find him, his life will be over. I should have helped him, I should have been there with him because I could defend myself with a respectable military career behind me. I should have been there, he died alone and even if I couldn't save him, at least I would have comforted him in his last moments and I didn't do that either. My screams, screams and moans fill the room and I only realize it when I notice Grace has buried her head between her shoulders, trying not to hear my cries of pain, I wish I could help but it's so much difficult. "I know it's not easy Y/N, and you're sick, I understand, but we need you." Grace's voice is calm and bordering on insensitive, the opposite of the storm of anger and pain that surges through me when I usually appreciate Grace's calmness, this time it drives me into a rage. This scares me, it's not like me to think so badly of Grace, this isn't me… Pain transforms you when it overwhelms you I suppose. I frown and start to argue, but Trudy is faster than me. "Don't you think losing a brother like this is hard enough in itself, without constantly reminding her of what is expected of her!?" Trudy is annoyed by Grace's rush to resume her studies and research, I know deep down that Grace doesn't want to be mean, but now is not the time. I need some time to process the pain, the mourning, but unfortunately I don't have this advantage, I don't have this time. "I'm sorry Grace, I don't think I'm in a position to resume my studies, my research or whatever you have in mind, I'm sorry." Trudy nods, running a hand down my back, while Grace just looks at me. "I didn't think someone with your career could have such a meltdown" Trudy hits the scientist, I don't even have the strength to do it anymore, I'm usually stronger than that, yet Tom's death drained me. "This was bad Grace you know Y/N is proud of her career and for good reason." I served in the military with Jakey as a sniper, then he was recognized as a perfect fit for the Avatar program due to my adaptable nature and my abilities outside strictly the sniper field due to my endless curiosity about everything, I love to read and inform me . I'm in Pandora training because, as a "prize of honor" during a particularly dangerous operation, I was given the opportunity to conduct training directly at Pandora's base. At first I was reluctant, I didn't want to separate from my brothers, I accepted only because Tommy threatened me that if I didn't do it he would be ashamed of me for the rest of his life. Ironic, huh? He didn't have long to live, apparently. I've been here ever since and only had a break when I learned of Jakey's injury, then I returned to Earth and then returned to the Avatar program when I had confirmation that my brother was handling himself, not a second ago. I ignored the health problems I might experience during these various planet-to-planet journeys, I didn't care what might happen to me, as long as Jakey knew he was loved and had someone by his side to help him, I would pay any price to help my brother and I would do it again, I have not regretted it and I never will. Only Grace and Trudy know that I have actually had various health problems that could have slowed my training were it not for my intelligence and willpower, Grace's words. "I know, and I also know you're right to be proud of yourself, I mean I didn't expect subjects accustomed to death to feel its effects so violently." I sighed, not looking into her eyes "What you're saying doesn't make sense, Grace. This is different and you know it too!" I answer. "What would be different, Y/N?" she replies her. "That he was and is my brother, maybe? It doesn't matter that I'm in the military, it doesn't mean a thing, when you lose someone dear, it really affects you despite the career you've decided to pursue. And you also know the reasons that prompted me towards a military career." Initially my career was to focus on the medical side of the military, which leaned more towards my personality, then after an attack that killed everyone but me, miraculously saved by the beams that protected me as the building I was in collapsed, I decided to totally change course and engage in combat, in some form. Grace raises an eyebrow and nods. "I guess what you're saying makes sense, Y/N. I'm sorry, maybe I should have paid more attention." "I definitely agree with you, Grace!" Trudy throws daggers at her with a look, even though I love them, I can't stand their fights right now. "Girls, I'm sorry but if you have to fight, please get out, I... I really don't have the strength, forgive me." Trudy and Grace look at me, my favorite thing about them is that they don't show pity, no compassion, they certainly feel it because they don't have stones for hearts, but they are discreet enough not to throw it in my face, which calms me down. They both just nod, while Trudy smiles sweetly, saying, "We're here for you, no matter what we say to each other, we're always here for you." Grace continues to nod at her words. "What did I do wrong? Why did Tommy die?! What did I do wrong, what did he do wrong to deserve this!? He wasn't a bad person, why kill him!?" I cry out of control, I feel like I will soon lose the calm in my voice. "He IS a bloody poor man, that's why he took him away from you." Trudy runs her hands down my back, trying to comfort me, to coax me into a calm that I don't have. "F-For what? For scraps of paper in the wallet?! Is it possible that printed paper is worth more than one life?!" I answer in kind, despite the choked voice that I find myself, the dry throat that itches as if I had swallowed a cactus whole. "Those pieces of paper have been making the world go round since they were invented Y/N, I know you're smarter than that, it's just the pain that speaks for you." Trudy rolls her eyes at Grace's apparent insensitivity, but she's like that, she's a scientist, she's normal to be skeptical and rational in every situation, "I don't think she would want to see you suffer so much, you know your brother loved your smile." Trudy speaks again as she takes my face and wipes my tears, delicate for her. "Trudy… Why did he die? I should have been there, what did I do wrong?" the doubt of having done something wrong, of being absent when I should have been present eats me up. "You didn't do anything wrong, you couldn't know it, he died because some motherfucker thought the card was worth more than your brother's life, but he never really quit T/N, he'll always stay." My favorite driver has been trying to sound reassuring, but he doesn't seem to be reassuring enough to calm me down. The strangled, moaning sound I make is unsettling, I don't even recognize it as my own voice, but that's the least of my problems as I finally wrap my arms around Trudy's neck, continuing to cry into her arms until I fall over I didn't even realize I was completely unconscious.

Tommy was cremated but I didn't even get to see him, just as I can't see Jakey until he comes here because another trip would compromise my health too much, already affected by the various trips previously made both by the fact that you have to be totally fit to deal with shifts like that, and I'm not. Adding insult to injury, I'm sure it will take longer to heal from the pain for this, if I could have seen him one last time I'm sure I could have healed sooner. I think it's cruel of life not to be able to see my brother one last time before he is finally cremated, Tommy has been destroyed and here I am, helpless, watching and not being able to do anything for him or for Jakey, it's like pour salt on an open wound.

It's torture and every time I think about it, I burst into uncontrolled crying and I have to stop whatever I'm doing, because the tears come down so copious that I'm blind, I cry so much that it seems impossible to stop, I only succeed when I have no more tears . It's suffocating, during the night I dream of our memories, during the day everything I do reminds me of him, everything I see in photos or read in books to complete my training makes me think of him and how much he loved to read and study with me, that intelligent glint in his eye every time he told me something he had read and learned, he had this amazing ability to draw you in and make you love whatever topic he was on, no matter what. I envied him for that, and I can't help but smile when I think back to our lessons together, when he corrected me with a demanding but gentle tone and a tug of hair. In everything I do I see him again and now more than ever I realize I look so much like him, I've never paid much attention to this aspect, I mean, I always had him in front of me I didn't need to think about these similarities, but now that I don't there is more these similarities haunt me as if they were ghosts. It's suffocating but the pain must be experienced completely and deeply to be truly overcome.

Despite everything I've resumed working next to Grace and spending a lot of my free time next to Trudy and her flying jewels, they distract me and help me, I thank them for their more or less visible but always present support. The pain of Tommy's disappearance is still there but I live with it, I have to live with it. Tommy won't come back, a thief took him away from me but he won't be able to steal my photos and memories, I keep them stored in a special casket, my heart, where they will remain as long as I live, safe.

Someone mentioned my brother Jakey coming here to Pandora to replace Tommy, I already knew about it and can't wait to see him, I miss him dearly, but I also wish I could see him again in better circumstances than these, Tommy's death is not the happiest reason to see Jakey again but maybe it's better than nothing because the letters we managed to exchange, with so much effort considering where we both are, weren't enough and still aren't enough.

So this was the first chapter, this is my first time writing to publish something, so please be kind.

©️ Floralifetime April 10-2023, please don't do not republish, repost, steal, modify, translate or claim my work as your own. All rights reserved.

@avatarbyamara​ I promised you, sorry if it's a bit slow but otherwise the first chapter would have been TOO long.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie idea: Set after Roy and Keeley break up. Roy and Jamie start training and end up hooking up. They keep seeing each other for months and Jamie couldn't be more happier or in love, until Roy drops a bomb on everything by saying he and Keeley are gonna get back together. Jamie realizes that while he thought they were in a relationship, Roy was having him just as a rebound. Jamie is completely shattered, but somehow holds it together. Roy and Keeley get back together, Jamie basically feels abandoned as Roy no longer spends much time with him. His wounds keep festering and his anger keeps building until one day he sees Roy and Keeley being all lovey dovey and HE LOSES HIS FUCKING SHIT! He rips Roy to shreds in front of everyone. Keeley and the lads are appalled, Roy is stunned, Jamie runs off, everyone is fucking pissed at Roy. Keeley immediately breaks up with him and urges Roy to get Jamie back. Roy has to go chasing after Jamie, but catches him eventually. It's this giant wreck of a situation that they will have to work extra hard to rebuild from. Roy's an ass, but not cruel, just totally oblivious to the fact that he had a boyfriend all along.

Owwww

Roy can’t believe he was so stupid. How he missed this he’ll never know.

Of course he was in a relationship with Jamie. Phoebe has literally called Jamie is boyfriend. Roy finds Jamie sitting in his car.

He’s not moving just sitting and staring at the wheel. Roy opens the door and slides in.

“I’m sorry.”

Jamie jumps. Almost like he didn’t process someone there. He turns and looks at Roy. Really looks at him. “You’re an absolute dick. Jesus Christ go away Roy.”

Fuck Roy. Jamie’s been crying. Quite a bit from the looks of it. Roy reaches out and touches Jamie’s hand.

Jamie flinches. Flinches

Roy can’t believe himself. Can’t believe he had this man in his bed crying two weeks ago and lost that for someone he doesn’t even love in that way anymore. Because look, Roy will always love Keeley. But Christ apparently he loves Jamie more. Apparently he fell in love with Jamie.

Apparently they were dating.

Jamie scrubs at his face to make the tears stop again. He shoves at Roy’s shoulder half heartedly. “Can you leave granddad. Kinda having a pity party.”

Roy winces. Yeah that’s deserved. Everything Jamie said was deserved.

“I didn’t know. Thought you were fucking people on the side. I didn’t want to get attached. Said we were just hooking up for plausible deniability. It’s a fucked reason but it’s true.”

Jamie cracks a grin. It’s lightly manic. He stares straight at Roy. “I shared things about my childhood that I’ve never told anyone Roy. Took you out on dates. You went with me on dates. We were dating.”

Roy nods. What else can he do besides agree. Jamie is so right. “You’re right. I fucked it. But I want to fix it. Keeley broke up with me. Said we deserve each other and she isn’t standing in the way of that. Christ Jamie I think I’m in love with you if you’ll give me time to think about it.”

Jamie laughs. “You’re fucking with me. I’ve been in love with you since I was 15 mate. How didn’t you see that shit.” Roy shakes his head, “dunno. But I regret and apologize for everything that caused you pain.”

“Oh.”

Roy gives him a small smile, “yeah oh. I like you Jamie, wanna date you while knowing we’re dating. Wanna hold your hand and smash a camera for you.”

Jamie smiles. He reaches over and takes Roy’s hand he dropped earlier. “Gotta say that’s pretty romantic. I forgive you. Just don’t do it again.”

Roy touches Jamie’s cheek with his other hand, “can I kiss you officially as your boyfriend?” Jamie lightly blushes, “yeah prick go ahead.” Roy does.

It’s a good first kiss all things considered. Nice. Comforting. Reminds roy of the last few months.

He pulls away suddenly. “You’ve got all of my non black hoodies don’t you??” Jamie blushes red. “To be fair. I always steal my partner’s clothing. You just didn’ realize.”

Roy blinks. “Is that why I always want to fuck you when you’re in that navy blue sweater? Some monkey brain part of me knew it was mine?”

Jamie let’s put a laugh. “Yeah babe sure.” Roy shakes his head. “Let’s go back to your place. I’ll cook and apologize more.” Jamie nods. “Sure.” He squeezes Roy’s hand.

They’re a bit fucked up right now but they’ll figure things out.