#I wasted SIX whole months searching

[monards]

finding out there was a symbiosis & silver thread presence on tumblr after 6 months of scouring almost every other social media I have is doing things to my brain

[kissbyoon]

(📷) . ݁₊ “HOME”

╰┈ Seungcheol is your home; your comfort and happiness.

₍ 𝑓𝘵. ₎ 𓈒 승철 ˶ fluff, est. rs, comfort * skinship, cheol being too real, petnames (baby, love, hun) ⎯⎯ 1.9k ꒱ ✦ husband!csc x wife&fem!r

♪ A/N : first fic on this blog !! happy new year <3

After what felt like a minute of holding your breath in—you finally breathe a sigh of relief, in disbelief that the project you had been working on for more than six months was complete. All complete.

The project that caused you to do constant night shifts, sometimes even all alone when your colleagues left early, those exhausting hours of work that resulted in you not being able to give enough time to your husband—Seungcheol, was finally complete.

Only the fact that it was Seungcheol, saved you from multiple fights that couples go through, when one can't find the time to give their significant other.

You're grateful. Beyond grateful.

Leaning back in your chair, you throw your arms in the air with contentment, letting out a squeal as you do so.

“Finally,” you couldn't help the grin forming on your face, brightening your face features.

However, as you took the time to look around in search of a colleague to share this happy moment with, your grin immediately dropped.

“Everyone left?” Sighing, you glanced at your watch. It indeed was too late, it shouldn't be a surprise that everyone had left.

You were so focused on completing your project—determined to get it done before the deadline—that you can't even remember when your colleagues left.

You rose from your seat, piling up all the paper works and placing them neatly on your table by the corner, before taking your phone to call Seungcheol—only to frown as it didn't turn on.

“Huh? I had it switched off this whole time?” Confused and slightly panicked, you turn your phone on—now concerned as the screen flashed with text messages from Seungcheol and 10+ missed calls.

Without wasting a second, you immediately call Seungcheol, taking your bag as you make your way out of your department office.

Weirdly enough, Seungcheol wasn't picking up your calls, causing you to stress even more. He did say he would be working for late hours today, but he had tried calling you just an hour ago.

As you reached the elevator, you let out a loud groan at the sight of an ‘out of service' sign.

A million dollar company? Sounded more like a joke to you right now.

You had to take the stairs, Seungcheol didn't pick up the call, he would be working late hours, you'd have to go home alone at this hour, and last but something that leaves you devastated the most—having to sleep on the cold bed that lacked his warmth.

‘Thanks, life.’ you could only think to yourself, your soft footsteps echoing with each step you took down the stairs.

Reaching the bottom floor, you breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of the bright city illuminated with lights, the road filled with cars passing by in front of you.

As you step out of the building, you're immediately hit with the cool breeze of the freezing winter, causing you to hug yourself tightly.

You're always thankful that your company building is located at the centre of the city, meaning you never have to worry about going home late at night.

But today, even this breath-taking view of the city couldn't make your day better or make your eyes shine with awe. Because you know whom you need and he wasn't here with you at this moment.

You just wanted a kiss from him, wanted to hear ‘you did a great job today, baby, I'm so proud of you’ from him, wanted to spend the rest of the night with him, and just wanted him.

Sighing, you take slow but steady steps towards somewhere—you just wanted to take a little stroll before going home, because the one you wanted to see so much right now wouldn't be there when you enter the comfort of your home anyway.

Because the comfort of your home was Seungcheol. Without him, your house just felt like an empty, cool space you really don't feel like living in.

After a few minutes of walking, you stand by a bridge, admiring the view of the calmy flowing river. Indeed, it was too beautiful to resist—causing you to smile finally.

“What's got my baby so smiley?” The voice and the man you recognised right away cooed, carrying a hint of amusement that only you could pick up, followed by his strong arms wrapping around your waist so gently.

Immediately turning around, your face brightens, your lips curling up into the happiest grin that was only reserved for him.

“Cheollie!!” You swear you sounded like an excited child chirping over an ice cream, but you couldn't care less because Seungcheol was in front of you right now. Throwing your arms around his neck, you hugged him tightly.

Maybe too tightly because even Seungcheol couldn't return the hug with the energy you had.

“I think this is enough, love,” he laughed when you refused to let go even after a minute. One of his hands rubbed your back while the other tried to hug you back with the same energy you were hugging him.

“No, it's never enough.” You were quick to defend, immediately shaking your head as you only tighten your grip around him more.

“Hm, let me guess. You missed me too much?” he teased with an intention to get a reaction out of you, only to fold immediately when you nodded so genuinely.

“A little too much.” Finally pulling back from the hug, you look him in the eye with a pout. He softens, his eyes looking at you so intently as he pulls out his hand to hold your face.

“I’m here now, and I love you,” his voice was low and soft, as if it was only meant for you to hear. “But why were you working overnight again? Didn't your boss tell you that you would have a break today?”

Seungcheol was indeed right—your boss had informed your department that the employees can take a day off, except for the ones working on the recent project. This included you and four others, but you had to revise it all over again, which meant you had to stay overnight anyways.

“It wasn't for the ones working on the project,” Seungcheol’s eyebrow immediately furrowed, his expression unpleasant.

“Who is he? Who does he think he is—”

“Cheol, he's my boss.”

He pouted at that, and you let out a giggle.

“Well, unfortunately.” He rolled his eyes, waving his hand in the air—always more than happy to let you know that he despises your boss.

“I always told you, I'm a better CEO and boss than him, with a better company and a better income.” There he goes again, not leaving a chance to convince you to join his company.

“Cheol, hun, we talked about this.” you say, referring to the fact that working in his presence would be difficult for you. Not because he is distracting— No, screw that, he is distracting. You don't like to think that you’d have to work properly, aware of the fact that Seungcheol is in his office, just a hallway away from you, and you wouldn't be able to just run there to hug or kiss him.

He is that distracting.

“Hmph, fine. You love me so much, it's difficult to work in my presence—I get it!” Crossing his arms, he spoke in his pouty manner.

“Oh!” Your eyes widened, remembering the fact that the project causing you (Seungcheol) to go crazy, was finally all done. “I have good news!”

Seungcheol's hand paused mid-air, his eyes dramatically widening—the way you could basically see through him and what he was thinking, you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

This was not how he planned to know about this good news.

“W-what good news…? Why are you laughing?” He whispered, his face speaking out loud—he wanted to hear that.

Seungcheol seemed confused but eager to know the “good news" as your body trembled with laughter. The thought of him being nervous yet so giddy over something that's, unfortunately, not the case, made you want to squish his cheeks.

Finally taking control over your laugh, you let your intrusive thoughts win—reaching out to hold his soft cheeks in your hands, squishing them together.

“No, baby, that's not what I meant,” you look at him with an amused smile as you notice the shift in his expression—now, embarrassed but a hint of smile played on his lips.

He avoided your eyes and hung his head low, cheeks dusted with a bright shade of pink.

Tilting your head, you try to look at him in the eyes, smiling. “Or perhaps you really wanted me to be…”

“No, no,” he shook his head, letting out a chuckle, taking your hands in his. “Forget about that! Tell me what you wanted to say?”

“I completed it.”

“Completed? Completed what, hun?”

“Your most hatest, the project that was causing headaches.” The way Seungcheol’s face immediately brightened, a gasp escaping his mouth.

“Really!?”

“Really!”

Seungcheol kept himself from squealing with excitement right in front of everyone, and instead trapped you in his arms (hugged you), and spinned you around with the brightest smile.

“Cheol! Put me down!” You laughed, and he did, leaning forward to peck both of your cheeks.

“Does that mean you finally get paid leaves? Oh my god?” Exaggerating, the man in front of you covered his mouth and gasped. You hit him lightly on the shoulder.

“I will! You hate that company so much?”

“I do.”

“Me too.” You mumbled, turning around as you rested your elbow on the guardrail.

“You hate your own company? Then stop working there! Why are you there anyway?” He followed, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Money, cheol, money.” You shoot him a look, followed by a laugh. He chuckled, but his eyes were focused on how the city lights enhance your beauty by far more.

“Which is something I make everyday, and it is more than your boss’s monthly income.” Him and his internal arguments with your boss never failed to make you burst into laughter.

“Hm, why do you hate him though?” Amused, but curious, you ask. He cocks his head to the side and scoffs.

“Why wouldn't I? Just because he is the boss doesn't mean he doesn't have to do anything. He can't rely on his employees for every damn work, and expect them to do it at light speed.” He sighed, rolling his eyes.

His rant went on and on, and you listened to him patiently—your smile never leaving your face as you stared at him.

“What is he, a man in his sixties?” he took a deep breath, huffing with disappointment.

“Cheol?” You called out, wrapping your hands around his arm, looking up at him.

“Hm?” He shifted his eyes on you, waiting for you to continue.

“Did you know? I love you.” Resting your chin on his shoulder, you told him that so sweetly, he had to pause for a moment to process it.

It wasn't like you and him didn't shower each other with ‘I love you' every single minute, but something about you taking your time to say it so sweetly and lovingly—the sincerity and love in your eyes visibly clear—it had an effect on him even after years of being with you.

“W-well,” he cleared his throat, looking away from your gaze. “I love you too. No, more.”

“Yeah? How much more?”

“Definitely more than your boss’s daily salary.” Again, you burst into a fit of laughter—followed by Seungcheol’s giggles and pleading for you to quiet down.

And this is what you mean, when you say he is your home.

@kissbyoon ⌕ ۫ all rights reserved/copying strictly prohibited.

[reidrum]

if you keep asking | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: this was requested with “if you keep asking me i’m not gonna be okay” or smth along the lines 😭 i am a glutton for hurt/comfort fics so if yall have any more requests send em in :)

summary: in which you’re trying to keep it together when you hear some detectives talking ill of you, and spencer isn’t gonna have it

cw: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, insecure!reader, bitch ass detectives, protective bau my heart, use of she/her pronouns

wc: 2.2k

_______

the bau team was filing into the bullpen after landing from their last case in seattle, everyone making a beeline for their desks to get a head start on their reports so they could go home faster. everyone, except you. it felt like you were on autopilot, remembering your last known movements and just repeating them for as long as you could.

the case in seattle was rough to say the least. the unsub’s mo seemed to change every minute, making any progress the team made obsolete. the only thing that seemed to be somewhat consistent was where the unsub was taking his victims, which meant the geographical profile was the most important part to solving the case, a task you and reid were assigned to.

it started off fine, you both had found the comfort zone of where the unsub would strike next to figure out how to catch him in the act. except the next time he struck it was completely out of the predicted range, and this time a kid had died. no one could have anticipated that happening. it didn’t make the loss hurt any less.

the team knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, humans are unpredictable, and that includes serial killers. spencer made sure to tell you specifically that it wasn’t your fault, he knew how you’d get if someone didn’t tell you.

his efforts went to utter waste when you walked by a room at the precinct with detectives whispering about how “you fucked up the whole profile, that’s why that kid died” and “it’s clear you make the team stupider, how did you even get into the fbi in the first place?”

it wasn’t the first time your abilities were in question. you were the newest member of the team, having only transferred six months ago from cold cases. you may be new to the field, but there was a reason hotch chose you personally for the bau.

you tried hard to prove yourself, despite pretty much everyone saying your skillset was enough proof. you’d stay late to finish reports, do extra research on cases to help garcia narrow her searches faster, and you spent countless hours at the training range.

you were a worthy agent, anyone who knew you or read your resume knew that. but right now, you felt like the smallest person on earth, an imposter. what the hell were you even doing here if you couldn’t save him.

you shouldn’t be allowed to feel relief that the team caught the unsub, not when there’s blood on your hands.

the bad thoughts swirling in your head causes you to stall your motions when you’re putting files away, gaining the attention of morgan, “you alright, sweet cheeks?”

“i’m good morgan, don’t worry.” you lie effortlessly. if he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t mention it and turns back to his work.

taking a deep breath, you stand up to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, when you run into jj finishing up making her own, “i was just thinking about you, i got this new creamer i think you’d rea-, hey, are you okay?” jj starts but ends concerned.

you try to focus on metronomic tick of the clock so you dont escalate, “i’m fine j,” you laugh unconvincingly, “what creamer did you get?”

she ignores your question, “because i know that was a tough case, and if you need to talk about it with someo-“

“jj, drop it, please.”

the blonde’s face drops a little at your sternness, but respects your space and offers you to try the creamer before returning to her desk. you feel bad for snapping at her, but the growing guilt within you is giving you apathy, and you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.

you linger in the kitchen so as to avoid any more concerned faces, and you’re left to your own devices that are slowly overtaking you.

unbeknownst to you, spencer had been watching you since you all landed back in quantico. he kept his distance, mostly because he knew how overwhelmed you get at confrontation, especially about your emotions. he was the same way, a man of logic getting befuddled by emotion was enough cognitive dissonance to last a long time.

he knew it was different with you. you had a way of internalizing everything in your surrounding, a downfall to your endless empathy for others even if they never deserve it. he could explain the logic behind your beliefs, and hopefully use facts to help you relax, but that was the other thing he knew about you; you were stubborn. asking for help is something you hated doing, and if it wasn’t on your accord to be asking, it was even more detrimental to your mood.

so when he watched you duck out from the kitchen and push past the glass doors of the bullpen, he knew you were reaching the head of your doom spiral quickly.

spencer got up from his desk, “i’m gonna go check on her.”

jj nodded, “just be mindful spence, something feels different.”

they’d all been on cases that hit a little too close to home, how could they not when all they do is rid the world of the evilest of evildoers. but after a good cry, a rant to a teammate, or even an emergency therapy session, even the worst of the scum could be washed away.

something about the way you’ve been acting since they landed seemed like those fixits aren’t going to work this time.

he let out a sigh in response and walked out of the bullpen, realizing he didn’t actually know which direction you went in. assuming you’d want to be alone, he thinks the bathroom might’ve been a viable option for you and heads towards it.

the nice thing about the seventh floor is that it’s only for the bau, the bullpen was where the team spent most of their time but outside the doors there were so many empty rooms being used for storage.

so as spencer walked towards the bathroom in the hopes of finding you, his ears pick up on a tiny sniffle a little ways before it. he stops in his tracks, hoping he was just hearing things. but another pained sob rang through the door on his left, and he knew he’d found you.

he rapps the door a few times, softly calling your name, “hey, it’s spencer…can i come in please?”

you were on the other side sitting at one of the abandoned desks with your head down, but shot up at hearing spencer’s voice, “i- i’m fine i just needed a minute. i’ll be back in like two minutes, i promise.” you angrily wipe at the tears pooling on your face, grateful that you took your makeup off in the plane.

“honey, that’s not what i asked,” he starts, “is it okay if i come in?

your heart clenches at the term of endearment as you stare at the door knowing he was waiting for your okay to come in, and you start to internally weigh your options. you could let him in, and let him in to do whatever comforting you know logically would help. or you could lie, and feign ignorance to the end.

don’t they say ignorance is bliss?

you make sure to wipe the last of your tears and your runny nose before practicing a few fake smiles so it didn’t look like your face was frozen in sadness for the last thirty minutes. turning the knob you swing the door open, borderline creepy smile on your face as you greet the man, “hi dr. reid! was there something you were looking for?”

he furrows his brows at your complete (fake) shift in mood, but he comes in and shuts the door behind him, and moves to stand a few feet from you, “what’s going on?”

“nothing spence, i’m fine.” you insist.

spencer thinks if you could be more see through you’d be a windexed window. you’re avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the skin of your thumb, he can see your nose is red most likely from all the tissue blowing, and your eyes are still puffy and lined with some unshed tears still. you are so clearly breaking at the seams, like an old childhood teddy bear with stuffing falling out the sides yet hoping you can offer some semblance of stability despite your state.

“you don’t look fine, honey. why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

his words almost make you falter, and you think the walls you built so high are starting to chip down. “it’s not a big deal spence, i-,” a hiccuped breath gives you away, “i can deal with it on my own.”

spencer instinctively shortens the gap between you two, “you shouldn’t have to. i just wanna help you.”

“but i’m oka-“

“no you’re not.”

there is only one tiny thin thread left holding you together. “well,” you take a deep inhale and your voice gets impossibly small, “if you keep saying things like to me i’m not gonna be okay.”

“that’s why i’m here.” he says softly.

you look up at him with the biggest glassy doe eyed look he’s ever seen, and it’s like spencer can hear the snap of the thread in real time when he watches your face absolutely crumble. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, allowing him to hold your head down in the middle of his chest while his other hand smooths up and down your back in comfort.

“i know, shh, hey it’s okay, i got you.” he comforts.

your hands wrap around his waist beneath his suit jacket and you keep your face buried in his chest, inhaling the musky vanilla scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh laundry detergent smell letting it ground you back to him.

“i’m sorry.” you cry.

“don’t say that,” he hushes, “is it about the case?” you nod in his embrace, “we talked about it remember? there was nothing we could have done. we did everything right, sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you know that.” he moves his hand to tangle in your hair and rub your head.

“i- i know,” you say through labored breaths. you take a big breath before admitting the true reason for your anguish, “when we were about to leave, i walked by a room with some detectives talking about how i ruined the case and that…i’m the reason the kid died.”

“what?” he pulls back to look you in the eyes hoping to find any indication that you didn’t believe those poisoned words, “we both worked on that geographical profile together, the whole team agreed it was accurate and acted accordingly. what happened was not your fault. at all.” he emphasizes the last two words.

“yeah but…i don’t know maybe i could ha-“

“stop. you can’t do that to yourself. we did what we could with what we had, the burden of that child’s passing does not fall on you. we were only able to find the unsub’s hiding spot when you figured out he’d been going to the same gas station since the murders started.” he reinforced to you.

“they said that they didn’t know how i even got into the academy in the first place, and that i make the team stupider.” you quietly added.

spencer felt the rage consume his body, already planning the ways he was going to obliterate seattle pd. he cradled your head to look at him in the eyes, “listen to me. you are an important asset to this team. you make this team better at what they do, you make me better at what i do. you mean so much to me and the team okay? please don’t forget that.”

he swipes at a fallen tear on your cheek as you tell him between sniffles, “thanks spence…” you hope he understands the sentiment and love you’re trying to exude to him, even thought you’re unable to vocalize it.

“you gotta tell me if something like that happens,” he softly scolds you, “i’ll make sure they lose their fucking jobs.”

you’re about to speak when he cuts you off, “and don’t tell me that we should be the bigger people, because once the rest of the team hears about this, they’re all gonna be fighting over who’s gonna kick the shit out of them.”

you let out a tearful giggle, “you sound really funny when you curse.”

he scoffs, “what the hell, i do not!”

“you sound like a baby duckling that just learned how to say fuck.”

he starts to guide you out of the room and towards hotch’s office so you can recount what happened, “ouch, i’m hurt. i’d like to think the pistol and fbi badge i carry makes me intimidating.”

you giggle again, and spencer puts aside his rage to revel in the fact that you’re feeling better.

when hotch learned of what happened he immediately called seattle pd to file a motion to get those detectives fired, and the rest of the team were secretly praying for a case in seattle again so they could, as spencer predicted, kick the shit out of them.

[warfaredoll]

𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐘

[𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞] 𝐑𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Ray opens the letter he’s been saving, with no one else around and nothing but time there’s really only one thing he can do with it…. Ray is about to feel a whole lot closer to home.

cw: smut w plot, SMUT SMUT , wc 2.1k, PULL OUT YALLS VIBRATORS!!, giggling while writing this 🤗

PART 2 HERE

Ray sat alone in one of the dimly lit rooms of the house they’d taken over for the mission. cracked walls, dusty floors, and old furniture, the only sound was the occasional pop of distant gunfire far off, not close enough to worry about yet.

His rifle rested against the wall, untouched for the past hour. he was supposed to be on watch duty. but the night had dragged on long. quiet. boring.

His legs stretched out in front of him, boots caked with dirt and exhaustion. his eyes burned from staying open too long, mind going in and out of alertness. another five hours until he could wake someone else. five more hours of nothing.

Ray rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to fight off the exhaustion. the silence around him wasn’t comforting the wind blew softly against the shattered windows. there was no real danger right now just waiting. the endless bitter kind

He leaned back against the wall, his eyes scanned over to the door, the empty hallway, nothing moved. nothing ever did.

His hand dropped to his chest, where the chain you gave him rested beneath his shirt, warm from his skin. his fingers toyed with it as his thoughts wandered like they always did when he had too much time and not enough action.

there was no doubt he missed you.

Over the past few months, Ray had created a collection in his pack without meaning to. a bundle of envelopes. your letters. every single one of them.

you never missed a day. whether his unit was on the move or stayed put down in some place like right now, a new envelope always found its way to him eventually. some came a little late some arrived scuffed, but they always came.

and he always read them.

Sometimes more than once. hell, sometimes five or six times over, until he had every word memorized.

you never let a thought go to waste. some letters were long, pages packed front and back, others were short and sweet, filled with nothing but how much you missed him. how much you loved him. how proud you were. how you were waiting for him.

every single one had a way of softening him.

Ray let out a slow breath, his eyes flicked toward the door one last time, the hallway still empty. Then, he reached into the inner pocket of his vest the one spot he never let anyone touch and pulled out the small stack of saved letters.

They were a little worn now, corners bent some smudged from his fingers. but to him they were priceless. every envelope was sealed with love and that signature touch he’d grown to crave.. your lipstick kisses pressed onto the paper

he thumbed through them slowly, remembering each one. some were pink, others deep red or soft nude the shades always changing. you’d joked in one letter about kissing the paper like he’d kiss you. it hadn’t been funny to him, not really. it had made his chest ache in the way only missing you could.

He picked one letter from the stack the one with the cherry red kiss right over his name and held it gently in his hands. his eyes closed for a moment, and he brought it to his lips pressing a soft kiss against the mark you left there

“I miss you” he whispered

After a quiet moment with the letter against his lips, Ray lowered it slowly his fingers lingering on the stained paper

He looked through the stack again, eyes searching for one particular envelope the one with the faint pink lipstick mark and your handwriting a little more messy than usual, he knew this one. had read it maybe ten times already, but tonight it felt like the right kind of night to reread it

It was one of the rare ones. the flirty ones.

You didn’t write like that often. usually your letters were soft, filled with updates, stories, love but every once in a while when the distance got too heavy you let your wants slip through

He unfolded the letter carefully, even though the crease lines were already worn smooth. his eyes looked over your handwriting

“I tried to be good with this one. I tried to keep it sweet, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

His lips twitched into something close to a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I miss you Ray. Not just miss like I wish you were here to hold me I mean miss like I need you. Bad. I need your hands, your voice, the way you look at me when you’re trying to behave but you’re not. it’s been driving me crazy. I’ve been lying in bed thinking about you every night and it doesn’t help. Nothing helps.”

Ray ran a hand down his face, his heart thudding heavy in his chest. he read slower now dragging out the words

“I know this probably isn’t the kind of letter you should be reading while on duty, but if I close my eyes I can feel you again. I just hope you think of me too”

He let the letter rest in his lap, staring down at the writing. he could hear your voice in the words. he could picture the way your lips would’ve curled when you wrote them. and damn if that didn’t make it worse.

Ray’s eyes traced the last line of your letter again, slower this time, letting every word sink in. he’d read it before more than once but tonight, it was different.

His body felt flushed, he could feel the heat rising in his chest, crawling up his neck, setting his ears on fire.

His jaw clenched as he leaned back against the cold wall, hoping it might cool him down. It didn’t. his pulse was pounding in his throat, and there was no ignoring the way his pants had gotten tighter, snug and uncomfortable as the heat in his body made his cock grow stiffer.

He imagined your voice, soft and breathy in his ear saying his name like only you could. he imagined your skin beneath his hands, your lips against his neck, the way you’d whisper those same words you wrote but this time, right there close enough to reach. close enough to touch.

He’d give anything, anything for your touch right now. to feel your fingers in his hair, your body pressed against his. even just to hear your laugh, to see your eyes light up when you looked at him.

Ray sat there for a moment, chest heaving with quiet breaths. his pulse was like a drumbeat loud in his ears

At this point he knew he would have precum stains in his boxers. he needed relief. he needed you.

He reached for the stack again, he knew exactly which letter he was looking for.

It was heavier than the others. slightly thicker. the envelope sealed tight, no lipstick this time just his name written. he knew from the outline, from the texture that there was a photo inside. he could feel the faint square edge pressed beneath the paper.

He’d been saving this one. for a night just like this.

His fingers trembled slightly as he tore the seal open, a rush of heat licking up his neck as the paper gave way and the photo slipped free. he caught it before it hit the floor, turning it over slowly

and there you were.

Everything about the image hit him like a punch to the gut his eyes took in every inch of skin, every little detail you’d captured just for him.

He let out a shaky exhale, one hand running through his buzzed hair, the other still holding the photo

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, jaw tightening as he shifted in his seat, trying and failing to ease the pressure building hard and fast between his legs.

Ray stared down at the photo

you were fully bare laid out just for him, pussy and the perky buds of your breast on display. soft lips and flushed cheeks, eyes half lidded with want. the kind of look that made him forget where he was.

He could see the hint of nervousness in your pose, in the way your arms curled slightly like you didn’t know what to do with your hands. he knew you must’ve felt shy taking it.. exposed. and the thought fueled him more. because even like that, even trying to hide, you were perfect. so fucking perfect. it only made the photo more intimate, more real. like he could almost hear your voice saying, “Don’t laugh! I did this for you.”

His throat tightened. his cock throbbed against the front of his pants, demanding attention he couldn’t ignore any longer.

He glanced toward the doorway, and beyond the hallway, still empty and silent. nothing moved. no footsteps, no voices. just the quiet creak of the old house and the pound of his heartbeat.

He shifted forward on the chair, letting the photo rest against his thigh for just a moment. his fingers moved down to his waistband, slowly tugging his pants and boxers down to his thighs with a quiet, desperate sigh of relief. his cock sprang up with a desperate twitch, a bead of precum glistened at the tip already there, already aching proof of just how badly his body had been reacting to you, to the photo, the letter.

He let out a sharp, shaky breath through parted lips, jaw clenched tight as he leaned back, the photo resting right on his thigh. his hand wrapped around himself, and the first slow stroke pulled a groan from somewhere deep in his chest half relief, half frustration. like no matter how good it felt, it still wasn’t you.

His breathing grew heavier almost instantly, nostrils flaring as his pace picked up, brows drawn together focused, his hips flexed forward slightly, chasing the sensation that only came after months of holding back, chasing the thought of you.

and still his eyes never left the photo.

“Goddamn, baby…” he whispered, voice low “You’re so beautiful… look at you.”

His free hand lifted to brush over your image, thumb gliding across your lips in the photo, like maybe he could feel them. like maybe you could feel him. the muscles in his thighs tightened as he stroked himself again, harder this time

“I’d give anything to have you here right now” he murmured voice cracking slightly. “You don’t even know what you do to me…”

Every word was a soft praise, meant for no one else but you. like if he said your name enough, whispered it between clenched teeth and sighs, it might reach you in your sleep.

Ray’s hand kept a steady pace now, hips twitching upward in desperation. his thighs were already trembling slightly, breath caught between ragged gasps and soft curses. every part of him was focused on you, on the photo.

“Should be your hand” he murmured under his breath, voice barely above a whisper. his head tilted back against the wall, throat exposed, mouth parted as if he were waiting for your kiss. “Wanna feel you touching me like this… not my own damn hand.”

he bit back a groan, the sound caught low in his throat half-swallowed. he couldn’t be loud, he shouldn’t be. the others were sleeping and the last thing he needed was someone hearing him fall apart like this. but holding back only made it harder

“Baby…” he whispered, panting now “wish you could hear me. Wish you could see what you do to me.”

His strokes slowed for just a second as he looked down again at the photo, eyes locking on the way you posed for him body soft, skin glowing, lips glossy and swollen like you’d just been kissed.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect” he whispered, eyes glazing over, voice rough. “My girl. My baby. God, I need you.”

his jaw clenched again as his thighs tensed, his hand moving faster now, harder, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning your name, the taste of blood now on his tongue.

the rhythm of his strokes matched the rhythm of his thoughts. every breath, every twitch, every desperate pulse of his cock in his hand was for you.

he’d give anything, everything to be home with you, to be buried in your warmth whispering these things against your neck instead of a photo in the dark

Ray’s chest rose and fell shakily, his hand kept moving just enough to keep him on the edge but not enough to cum yet

he didn’t want it to end yet. not without you.

his eyes stayed locked on the photo, but his mind brought him back to a memory

“I want you to come home safe” you told him one night

he could still feel the press of your lips against his collarbone.

His grip tightened slightly, a broken sound slipping from his throat. “I’m trying, baby… I swear I’m trying.”

his hips bucked once involuntarily, his jaw clenching hard. his hand slowed again, torturing himself, edging himself even more. because it wasn’t just lust, it was love. aching and overwhelming.

he thought about your laugh. the way your nose scrunched when you smiled too hard. the way you always touched his arm when you spoke, like you couldn’t help needing to feel him even in the smallest way.

and god, he missed your voice.

“You’d talk me through this wouldn't you?” he whispered hoarsely, eyes shutting closed for just a second.

He’d give anything to hear you whisper his name right now. to feel your touch instead of his own, taking him deeper into that place only you could take him.

he opened his eyes again, staring at the photo desperately

his strokes became more desperate now less controlled, more impulsive. like his body was chasing the warmth, chasing you. his thighs trembled with every movement, tight with tension while his other hand gripped the edge of the chair

The photo on his thigh shifted slightly, catching the faintest glint of light. your eyes met his, even from a still image and that alone was enough to undo him.

“That’s it baby…” he whispered voice broken, mouth parted as his pace grew faster, messier. “Wish it was you… wish I was inside you God, I’d never stop touching you”

his chest rose with a sharp inhale

his whole body tensed. his body jerked, toes curling in his boots. hips lifting off the chair as he choked out a gasp, one hand still fisting around his length while the other pressed the photo tighter to his thigh

his hand froze mid-stroke and with a strangled groan. he came in thick, warm spurts some of it catching his uniform but most of it landing right across the photo on his thigh.

He didn’t even realize it until after. his eyes flicked down and there you were. still staring back at him through that glossy print now streaked with the proof of just how much he’d needed you.

he let out a shaky breath shoulders slumping against the wall. the room was quiet again except for the sound of his soft unsteady breathing

He looked at your photo. his cum on it, the one thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t ruin, he hadn’t meant to

“I’m sorry” he whispered, brushing a thumb gently along the edge where your cheek met the photo “Just needed you so bad.”

Ray’s chest rose and fell slowly now, his fingers loosened, letting go of his cock as he leaned back fully into the wall sweat cooling on his skin

he looked down at the photo again.

even streaked and slightly smudged, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. the sight of you like that so vulnerable, so intimate still took his breath away.

he sat like that for a moment, just breathing, letting the waves of pleasure pass. then slowly he picked up the photo being careful not to smear it further and reached for a cloth from his pack. he wiped it clean as best he could

Once he was satisfied, he slipped it carefully back into the envelope it came in. tucked it behind the other letters in the inner pocket of his vest where it could stay warm. close to his heart.

His pants were still around his thighs, he pulled them up slowly refastening them with a sigh.

Ray leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees fingers, laced loosely as he stared at the floor for a moment.

and then he smiled.

small but there.

“Damn” he muttered softly to himself, “You really are somethin’ else baby.”

and with that quiet smile still tugging at the corners of his lips, he adjusted his vest, leaned back into the wall and closed his eyes letting the high pull him through the rest of his watch.

making a pt2 cuzzz wheww he too fine and i love this idea 😫

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦ﾟᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི 𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི

[suratan-zir]

Don’t you think that the public has forgotten about Ukraine and the genocide that is happening there?

Hi. That's a tricky question. If I answer yes, then people who do still care will be upset. When in frustration I write that no one cares, there are always people in the notes telling me that they do care very much. These people exist, of course. But most of them have either friends or family from Ukraine, or have Ukrainian roots themselves. There are always exceptions, but they are few and far between. It also depends on the country. I have the impression that people from the Baltic states and some neighboring countries still do care about Ukraine. It's a war close to their home, they risk becoming russia's next victim, and most of them have suffered from russia before.

The fact that fewer and fewer people care with each passing year is not surprising. The shock factor from seeing bombed apartments and flattened cities wears off quickly, it gets old, becomes a new normal. As we always knew it would. Since it's not news anymore, most of it doesn't make it to the mainstream media, you have to actively search for the war updates rather than seeing them everywhere.

Popular posts from the far-left where they compare Russia to Israel illustrate really well just how little people know about this genocide, about the russian invasion. How little they want to know. They write something like "imagine if russia did THIS in Ukraine, there would be immediate international outrage and brutal repercussions!!!", while in reality russia has been doing THIS and worse the whole time, not just since 2022, but much earlier, and not only in Ukraine. Some people close their eyes and cover their ears to live in this fantasy where russia can do no wrong, and if it did, it would have been punished for it. As a Ukrainian suffering from russian unprovoked aggression, this notion is really hurtful to see.

I'd say that being a Ukrainian on tumblr is even worse than being a Ukrainian on twitter. The genocide of your nation is mostly ignored here and if not, then often denied. (again, not by everyone, please don't take this the wrong way!)

While I was typing all this, I thought - why bother? You can simply look at my (or blogs similar to mine) recent posts about this genocide, look at the number of notes, but most importantly, see how many of those who reblogged are my fellow Ukrainians. The majority. It wasn't like that in the first six or so months of the invasion. So yes, people care very little, but I can't blame the whole world for that or else I'll go insane.

I have currently only a few hours of electricity a day and I waste the time answering depressing questions or thinking how to answer them. *sigh*

[alicerosejensen]

Find me pt.1

Warning: kidnapping, mention of blood, two-person narrative (Leon v reader), castle with bioweapons, angst, trauma, dark, forced relationships, hints of sexual violence.

Summary: half a year. That’s exactly how long it took Leon to get on your trail and try to find you. He is ready to do anything to get you back, but hope fades every day.

A/N: I'll probably still post this when I get inspired. The warnings will vary depending on each chapter. You can think of this story as a big reference to another Capcom game.

I apologize for any mistakes because English is not my native language.

Feedback is welcome, but no insults please.

Prologue here.

His eyes closed by themselves from lack of sleep when Leon looked at the received data, which for him is now equal to the treasure, or more precisely, the key to the treasure is to you. Ingrid said that this could turn out to be a false trail, the threads that he had been looking for for so long turned out to be either a waste of time, or led to a dead end stopping the whole thing. And only now, six months later, a single clue that appeared literally out of nowhere makes you drop everything and try to find you.

Hannigan looks at the audio file trying to determine whether it is a fake or not. She runs it through a lot of programs trying to make sure that it's not gluing while Leon is standing next to her, clutching the back of the chair she was sitting at.

"Tell me this is a real recording," the tone of his voice was almost pleading and at the same time scared as he heard your recorded crying over and over again.

"Yeah." Hannigan's hesitant voice made Leon lower his head and look at the woman who continued to click her fingers on the keyboard.

"Hannigan?"

"We don't know when this recording was made…Maybe it's a trap. Another false trail that will lead nowhere. We've checked everything Leon! We found a car with DNA traces, but the trail ended. There were no witnesses, no recordings from the cameras, it was as if she had fallen through the ground."

Leon froze. The arguments were weighty, but what does he have besides this record?

"What's the point of being trapped after six months?" He sees Ingrid biting her lip trying to squeeze out as much data as possible. "If this was a kidnapping for ransom or luring me out, they would immediately get in touch, but nothing. So it wasn't me or the money that was needed, but my wife."

"However, we have not been able to find a motive. I checked all the documents, passport, parents, records from the hospital where y/n was born - there is nothing that could give us a tip. It's all clear."

"Or we don't see something," he sighed.

Leon was sure that something was missing. But it was not on the surface, but somewhere in the depths, which is not so easy to get to. When he was informed about the shots in his house and found a mess with a syringe lying on the floor, he really had hope that he would be contacted very soon. He waited a week, then a second without leaving the search, because with the current level of technology it is impossible to completely cover up all traces so that they lead nowhere, and in the end Ingrid quickly found a car with traces of your hair and drops of blood on the back seat, but that was it. You became one of those who mysteriously went missing.

But no one asked for money, no one sent any extortionate emails or calls. At one point, Hannigan even put forward the theory that you could have initiated your abduction yourself, but he refused to believe it. Why would you leave like that if you could just break up with him, even though on the day you left, Leon was ready to swear that everything was fine between you.

So it just didn't make sense.

Leon speaks softly. He is pacing the room, waiting for additional information, at least from where this recording was sent to him. The sound of the keys echoes in his head and Leon rubs his face tiredly, stopping his gaze at your photo.

"There was a drug in the syringe, there was her blood on the needle and on the floor, in total two shots were fired from the Matilda, one into the closet and the other into the ceiling... traces of a struggle..." Leon quietly wondered out loud, trying to understand what he could have missed, but it seems more there was nothing left that he could grab onto.

"Leon?" Ingrid suddenly called and Leon was next to her in one sharp movement. “I think I found it!”

A map and tracked coordinates appeared on the screen, presumably from the place where the recording with your request for help was sent.

"This..."

“Not low beam”

Leon twitched anxiously, seeing the designated forest area, looking meaningfully at Hannigan, who rested her chin on her hand, not believing what she found. At one time, intelligence discovered Ashley in a godforsaken Spanish village, but she was kidnapped with the aim of infecting her with a plaga and sending her to Graham, and what Leon saw on the map defied any logic. How did you end up in a mountain range in another country?

“This is Leon’s mistake. There is nothing there, mountains and forest, another mistake, someone made a cruel joke.”

“Not if there is any hint of civilization there.”

It was an unnecessary risk. Hannigan is still trying to find at least some information about the nearest village in these places. On the one hand, it’s an ideal place to hide a person, but on the other hand, there are no guarantees that you will end up there and that Leon won’t go to hell in a meaningless search. Suddenly you have been dead for a long time, although Ingrid’s female intuition tells her that until he finds your body or at least clear evidence of your death, Leon will continue to sniff out the trail of his beloved, like a devoted bloodhound, even if there are no traces left.

You are not the daughter of the president, only the forces of Leon and Hannigan are sent to search for you, the latter helps him only out of the kindness of her heart, and no one will send reconnaissance to find at least something that indicates that you were even really in this place. But Leon worked as an agent for too long, he saw the underside of this world and in theory assumed that there might be a house or village in which you are being kept for some unknown reason, but even if it’s all a trap and you are bait, then Leon is ready to go there.

"Nothing, Leon," Hannigan's annoyed voice must cut off hope. He himself sees no signs of human life on the screen. “No one even reports missing people in populated areas”

“I don’t have anything else anyway, right?” he answers confidently, taking his phone to get the exact coordinates “The fact that there is nothing on the map and no one reported missing tourists means nothing. There are places that someone hides very well.”

“This is your personal mission… I won't be able to help you there. I can book tickets, find someone to help with the weapons, but no outside support. You'll be on your own there.” Ingrid drawled sadly, hoping that he would come to his senses or at least weigh everything again before taking an unjustified risk, "You don't know what awaits you there, perhaps there is nothing there except trees, wild animals and mountains. Let's check it out again?!"

"For six months!" he exclaimed, "I've been trying for six months as a bloodhound to find at least something that can shed light on the kidnapping of my fiancee. I have the coordinates and her message for help, which you yourself confirmed was not falsified. Even if I can't find anything, I'll at least try. She wasn't taken away for money or to get back at me… there's something else there, and if she's there…" Leon poked his finger at the monitor, "then she's completely alone there. Defenseless and vulnerable to any danger if they want to harm her."

There was an oppressive silence. It was useless to convince Leon to wait at least a little longer before rushing headlong for a single straw, but she had already delayed him enough. All Hannigan could do for him was squeeze out any crumbs of information about the area, record it, and help with the equipment. At least the technical component. And if they both believed in God, they could pray for a successful return.

"Allright, have it your way." she spread her hands in surrender.

The awakening was painful and difficult. However, between brief glimpses of wakefulness that quickly ended with another dream, you could feel Leon's gentle touches all over your body. His breath on your neck and lips was like an apologetic kiss. You tried to dodge, as you usually did in the morning when you were still asleep, but he was persistent, after which you vaguely heard laughter through the veil… Heavy, broken, unlike Leon's usual laugh. Random images flashed before your eyes, and the last thing that made you fully wake up was the bang of your head on the floor and the sound of a gunshot, after which you abruptly opened your eyes, looking straight at the dark ceiling, trying to figure out what happened.

Tick tock tick tock

The sound of the clock ticking filled the space, remaining for a while the only thing your mind could focus on. Your head was pounding painfully as you stared madly at the dial, standing a few meters away from you, barely discerning what time it was. The lump on your forehead throbbed unpleasantly and may have caused a concussion after that bastard hit your head on the floor with all his might so that you lost consciousness. Feeling with your fingers the place where the skin painfully swelled, you painfully hissed down immediately removing your hand, stopping it and tried to breathe deeply trying to put the latest events in chronological order.

However, nausea rolled in waves, forcing you to squeeze the bedclothes in your hands and finally realize that the environment in which you are unfamiliar.

A dark room lit by a single fireplace in which a fire was still burning warmed the space making it less frightening, but the pouring moonlight from the window made the soul shrink from the horror of the unknown. You slowly looked around realizing that you were lying on a huge bed with a giant canopy of a delicate green shade on silk bedding of the same color. Everything seemed so unreal. As if it were a nightmare and now someone will jump out from around the corner at you and you will wake up realizing that nothing terrible really happened, but after sitting on the bed in one position for several minutes without moving in the hope of waking up, in the end you realized that you were no longer sleeping.

Your eyes involuntarily began to look at paintings by unknown artists. A portrait of a woman sitting at a small table with a human skull on it, an aristocrat with noble features as if carved out of stone, ordinary landscapes… You put your feet down on the cold stone floor, immediately shuddering and slowly wandered to the window to understand your location, but all you saw outside was an endless forest area without a hint of roads.

Listening to other sounds besides the annoying knocking of the clock and the fire, you hugged yourself by the shoulders, thinking that it was definitely not worth shouting just yet. The room you were in was clearly made in the Gothic style and in the current situation it only caused discomfort, given the fact that upon closer examination of the paintings you were able to understand that in front of you were originals and not reproductions. Old Varnish should have been removed a long time ago, perhaps it made these stories less dark, but this is clearly not something that should be thought about now. Turning around in search of some kind of closet to throw on something warm, you could see clothes neatly laid out on a dusty chair: a white shirt with wide cuffs tapered at the wrist, which was probably worn with a short tapered floral pink vest without sleeves, reminiscent of a corset with lacing on the chest, dark trousers and elegant boots next to them that look like they are made of real leather. The sole is small but looks comfortable and is just your size.

Examining the clothes in your hands, it was impossible not to notice the quality of the fabric, for the shirt was clearly silk, and besides, next to it, on an elegant carved table, someone had carefully left a metal box with decoration and a fresh red rose, which until recently seemed , bloomed in some garden, filling the air with its aroma.

You lowered your hands, taking the box in your hands, carefully opening it, as if a spider or other crawling crap might jump out of it, which always filled you with uncontrollable horror, but nothing catastrophic happened. Inside was a cameo brooch, decorated along the edge with fifty small stones resembling diamonds, and at the bottom hung a drop of pearls. Leon once gave you something similar, but it was in no way comparable to what was now in your hands. It was clearly worth your year's salary. It’s not like you had a choice… in the corner of the room, of course, there was a chest of drawers, but you couldn’t find anything in it except snow-white sheets, and you didn’t really want to walk around in negligence. Considering the fact that you were given no choice and that at least the clothes looked comfortable, you decided to comply, scared by the fact that everything fit perfectly as if it was tailor-made for you. You even caught the brooch on your vest because someone probably left it here on the table on purpose.

“Well, at least I feel a little better,” you thought, sighing as you found the mirror. The lack of light made it difficult to judge how bad the bump on his forehead was, but perhaps that was for the best. There were still no footsteps or sounds in the room behind the wooden door, but so you quickly put your hair in a not-so-neat bun so that it wouldn't get in the way while you explored the area and tried to figure out what happened to you after you were attacked and left here.

Perhaps you should find a phone and contact Leon or the police directly… There must be some connection, right? Looking back again, trying not to pay attention to the slight dizziness and nausea, your gaze lingered on a metal plate hanging directly above the fireplace with some kind of inscription engraved on it, but you did not look at it or at other objects in the room. . Not now… all that mattered at that moment was to find someone or something that would help you navigate and call for help.

With a soft tread, almost quietly like a cat, you pushed the door forward and it gave way, making a slight creak, forcing only to pray that it would not attract unnecessary attention, your head poked out looking around. Cold stone walls like in a medieval castle pressed down on consciousness, the wind blew down the gloomy corridor so that even clothes did not save too much and you wanted to throw some kind of jacket on top, but you took a step forward rejoicing that there are familiar lamps here, even if they shine a little badly, but it was better than if there were candles here.

However, the candelabra here were also really empty. When you were completely out in the hallway, you couldn't figure out which way to go to the right or to the left. It was too dark on the left and you wanted to go there the least, so you wandered in the direction where the wind was blowing, listening carefully to everything, trying not to fall off any stairs, although it was not very bright here, but still your eyes could distinguish the situation well and in the end you went down somewhere to a single door. Pulling the handle, it turned out that the door was closed on the other side and except for the old junk lying under the stairs, overgrown with cobwebs in places, there was nothing, which obviously made you turn around and go upstairs again, turning into that dark corridor where you initially did not want to go, but it seems that the choice was small.

Of course, you could go back to the bedroom and wait for a miracle or trouble, the latter seemed like a more obvious scenario, but still you can't leave everything on its own, even if you find yourself in the most non-standard of all situations. Eventually, after passing through the already familiar room again, you breathed a sigh of relief when you realized that the corridor was not at all as long as it initially seemed, and the door at the end was fortunately unlocked and led you to some long well-lit balcony. Your heart was beating wildly from fear of the unknown, but you still walked forward with your hand on your chest, walking to the other end, passing by some more locked rooms, stopping only at the moment when you clearly noticed a bright scarlet stripe on the floor as if something was being dragged… … like a corpse, and the red streak seems to be blood. Your feet were rooted to the ground as you looked around in a panic, looking for potential danger. Despite the disgusting silence, no one was nearby or someone simply did not want to be noticed earlier than expected, so at your own risk you decided to follow the bloody trail that ended abruptly. There were stains on the floor as if someone had tried to wash them earlier, perhaps they didn’t have time to do it or… Well, Leon always said that you have a rich imagination, which no one from your family ever argued with, so you decided not to give it free rein just yet because that otherwise it will drive you crazy.

It was all just disgusting. You realized for sure that you were in some kind of castle or giant mansion that clearly needed cleaning in places, and the worst thing was that all the rooms here practically remained locked. After an hour of wandering through the dark corners, you were damn cold and lost in addition, despite the fact that you found nothing and could not go anywhere except a couple of chambers, although mice ran through there a couple of times and spiders wove a web in the corners, which horrified you, forcing you to quickly slam the door and scream several times. No one really showed up. On the one hand, it was calming, but on the other it was aggravating.

You need at least some kind of map to figure out which part of the building you're in at all, but all you've found is useless trash and increased anxiety. Breathing exercises generally helped, which was why you were on the verge of hysteria. There must be at least a landline phone here! Panic was rolling in and my eyes started to water, I just wanted to call Leon and beg him to take you away from here because every rustle or shadow made you jump on the spot. And if someone really chases you? Where to run to? You don't have a mountain of muscles like Chris Redfield and you're not even Leon's equal. Your brain was clearly no longer trying to think of any plan, and it was at this moment that somewhere in the distance you heard a clock tinkling. It was dark outside, you couldn't see a thing, which made you think it might be midnight.

Startled, you looked around again and still decided to follow the sounds, hoping that they would not lead to your death. Another dark corridor gave way to a lighter one, which led you to a wide oak carved door, which made you even momentarily happy as you entered the wide hall with snow-white marble columns and an almost mirrored floor where a mosaic in the shape of a sun was laid out in the middle of the hall. Everything was luxurious and at the same time forgotten, but the clock that brought you here with a loud blow really showed midnight and it was a real antique! You were ready to swear to God that such a miracle could only be bought by a wealthy well-connected collector. Nearby there were several tables similar to those in your room, and although they were very dusty, in the vases that stood on them smelled sweetly of fresh flowers.

It wasn’t so gloomy here anymore, which helped relax a little. With sincere curiosity, you looked at everything that lay on the tables, and would like to turn the porcelain figurines of animals in your hands, something like this always caught you, causing memories to come flooding back against your will, how during your travels Leon could not tear you away from the souvenir shop where you emptied his card with great generosity, but this was not the case. And although you kept your eyes glued to everything you saw, your feet carefully walked down the steps until you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard loud clapping of hands.

You looked up at the source of the sound but didn't see anyone, however…

"So you've already woken up, my dear?"

[bon2bonn]

Just you and me

Max Verstappen x driver!reader

*Part of a thousand day of summer with you , what if our female driver didn't join Mercedes back in 2019, what if Red Bull gave her a new offer compensating for the past and offering her a long time seat alongside Max which proves to be the best decision they made to day , with six WDC between them and more to come , a little surprise made it's way to them , more specifically to Max which halted any chance of bringing their buried feelings to light . Or in other words : Red Bull!female!driver X single dad!Max feat the cutest bundle of sunshine called Poe .

Frantic Knocks paired with the bell ringing on repeat scared her out of her sleep , she hastily jumped out of bed with her feet tangled up in the sheets making her stumble a bit but she got out and made her way to the front door, glancing at the clock on her way she cursed at the time , 03:18 glared back at her and she prepared herself to give whoever dared to wake her in this damned time a piece of her mind .

she threw the door open, face contoured into a scowl , ready to curse at who stood on the other side but halted as she came face to face with her teammate Max.

A very tired and on the verge of crying Max, his hair messed and his eyes half closed and from where she stood she could see how red they are , but that's not the only thing that got her to halt , it's also the fuzzing bundle in his arms, letting out whines that soon turned into loud cries making Max clench his eyes as if in pain before turning to address her in a hoarse voice " I don't know what to do, I fed him , and I changed him twice , and tried everything but he won't stop crying, and I don't know what else to do " she closed her gaping mouth quickly letting him in and shut the door behind them .

She led him to the living room where she turned the lights on and took the baby bag from him arm , putting it aside before taking the squirming baby out of his hands , cooing gently at the boy as she held him to her chest " oh , baby , why the sad face , look at how tired your papa is , you're giving him a hard time now ? " The boy cooed in content, his cries are long gone once he settled in her arms, slowly falling asleep listening to her gentle words as she hummed to him mixed with her heart beat , he was more than willing to rest after a long wailing session that chased the wits out of his father's mind .

Speaking of his father, she turned to check on him only to find him passed out on the couch, he operated on autopilot the whole way up to her house and the moment he passed his son to her and his cries ceased he was left in awe at how quick he settled the moment her voice reached his ears, both him and his son honestly, and he didn't waste a moment to fall back and drift the moment his head hit the cushions .

She looked at the sleeping man on her couch before looking back down at the bundle in her arms, she whispered to him gently " look poe , your papa is out as a light , what do you think? Should we let him get some rest ? " He cooed at her making her humm , adjusting him into one arm while she took a blanket from the side draping it over the sleeping Max, turning off the lights after making sure he's comfortable in his position before heading to her room taking the bag with her , she settled the now sleeping baby on the bed , setting the pillows as a makeshift barriers for the night, then she settled herself after she made sure nothing would disturb his sleep for the time being, knowing her day would be busy to say the least .

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

The first thing that max was aware of when he woke up the next morning was the soft blanket covering him , then he smiled at the strong smell of freshly made coffee, for the first time in months he enjoyed the quiet atmosphere, the peaceful haze of morning, it's quiet, too quiet for his usual routine of his son waking him up in ungodly hours wailing himself to no end , then he sprung up , searching frantically for his missing son , his mind a scrambled mess as he looked around in confusion his brain is yet to fully catch up with his now growing panic , and just when he was about to get to his feet she came in , with his boy now changed and dressed in one of his adorable themed onesie with his racing number on the back and a trophy on the front paired with a small blue beanie over his head , he relaxed and laid back down watching curiously .

She was talking to little poe quietly as she made her way to the rocking chair by the balcony sliding doors seemingly unaware of him being awake " okay popo , how about we get you fed , then we could do our chores for the day while your papa get some sleep , what do you think ? " The boy let out a small squeak while his gaze was fixed on her as she caressed his cheeks softly before adjusting him up properly to feed him , his small hands grasping hers as she held the bottle , same as his dad's who she didn't notice yet , silently basking in the sight of before him , at how she easily she handled his distressed son in a matter of seconds , his mind drifting to what his life would've been, if he didn't hesitate when he had his chance to confess , if he didn't let his anger cloud his judgement back in Silverstone ? , if he didn't let that deadbeat woman who's now the mother of his son weasel her way into his bed ? , what if ? , and as his teammate always said is the best way to let your thoughts eat you alive, and get your mind to mourns the possibility of things that might've not even happen the way you think they would've.

Her voice snapped him back as she whispered to his boy " you know poe , your papa is doing his best, he's new to this kind of life but , he's learning along the way and he's doing a great job , so how about we make a promise, just you and me , to help him the best as we could, cause he needs to know that he don't have to do everything on his own, specially not this , okay ? " She reached out her pinky, and the boy didn't hesitate to grasp it with his fist closing around it tightly, making her nod in agreement as she shook his hand " okay " then planted a delicate kiss on the back of it before humming as she stood up , patting his back lightly to purp him and when it didn't work she went to the couch laying him on his back before taking his feet gently and started to do cycling motions, making sure to be gentle, then switched to support his knees up while doing circular moves then let him rest before asking " ready to let the bad air out ? " He grunts at her , making her chuckle as she proceeded with the exercises turning halfway to look at the other side of the couch where Max laid, smiling widely when her eyes lock with his now wide awake blues, greeting him softly " morning sleepy head " , he groaned and turned into his side , facing them fully and greeted back with a slight pout and voice still heavy with sleep " morning" watching as she carried on with her work but she nods her head at the kitchen " I made you a fresh pot of coffee , and your favourite too , but first come on up , we have to finish our exercise isn't that right pow pow? " the said boy grinned at her attention his arms waving as his father dragged himself to move to their side curiously watching as she instructed " sometimes burping alone won't get all the air out so we have to do some exercises to gently stimulate his bowel movement , that'll get the gas out the other way , now let's see how much air we could get out " she proceeded to make a full circular moves pressing gently against his belly making him grunt as he break winds , his eyes widened along with Max's as another loud string of sounds came out making her hold her giggle at their startled faces , and when it came to an end little poe let out a loud huff in content, finally at ease and kicked his feet in delight, she tickled his side as she cooed " that what made you so cranky the whole time?! Now we're all good , right ? " Earning loud giggles in return , she turned to the still stunned Max who now wears a frown his mind racing at how helpless he is when it comes to taking care of his own baby , every time he thinks he got it figured out he came face with the reality of barley managing through the day , his helplessness amplifies when he see how easily and gracefully his best friend seems to manage his distressed boy , finding no trouble when it comes to this, meanwhile he's barely few months in and he's already doubting his capability as a father.

She could see the tournament going in his mind , how he's doubting himself again , having witnessed firsthand his breakdown when his now ex fiance walked out on them , leaving behind a shell shocked Max and a wailing Poe for her to walk in to when she made a visit few weeks ago , and to say she do understand his doubts wouldn't be a lie , so she nudged his shoulder with hers , giving him a soft comforting smile as she let him lean his head on her shoulder, both gazing down at the sleepy boy who was drifting away with his small hand gripping her fingers tightly , he caressed Poe cheek gently as he whispered " every time I think I got it handled I'm proven wrong, I honestly don't know what I'm going to do " she used her free hand to pat his cheek " Don't beat yourself over this , no one is expecting you to know everything right away , no one does , everyone learn as they went on day by day , just like driving, you start with the basics and the more you learn the easier it gets " he argued back " but you seem to do " she chuckled quietly " I had been there to witness my dad lose his shit over taking care of Eddie , me and a months old Tommy , that wasn't easy and neither is this , then came my twin cousins Mathew and lily both gave everyone a run for their money but we managed, then there's Marc who is a God sent who was quiet and never really cried a lot , it was easier to venture through that but when Gigi came it was like she took it upon herself to double the work for everyone , and all I'm trying to say is you don't have to do everything on your own, that's the best way to drive yourself insane, instead you have everyone ready to help , you have Poe and you have me " she leaned her head over his after planting a kiss on his forehead , his eyes closed for a moment before voicing his source of doubt " but everyone have their lives to worry about" she flicked his forehead with her free hand as she scolded " our lives won't stop us from being there for you two , don't make me beat that fact into your stubborn head " he whined quietly before pinching her side as a payback " alright, I get it " . she nods after she swatted his hand away " good , now go ahead and take a shower cause you stink , I'll put Poe in my room then I'll reheat everything for breakfast " he frowned at her " you didn't have anything yet !? , it's almost......." She cuts him with a smack on his shoulder " you'll wake him up ! And no I didn't, I was waiting for you , I didn't want to eat alone " he was about to scold her but held back , knowing that ' she didn't want him to eat alone ' not the opposite, so he sighed in defeat and leaned over to leave a kiss on her temple , leaving another one on the sleeping boy's forehead before heading to her room , where he picked one of his many stolen hoodies and a sweatpants from his shelve in her closet and made his way to take a much needed shower.

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

Actions and Consequences

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

Warning: 18+ Only MDNI SMUT. Language, BDSM, Dom Aaron, emotionally detached reader, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive father figure, age gap (reader 25 Aaron 40) doesn’t line up with a specific time line, use of Y/n because story is set in 3rd person for the first half then switches POV, last name for reader is Smith,

Specific Chapter Warnings: implied sex (between reader and ex-boyfriend) past boyfriend being rough and mean to reader, eating, official set up of dynamic and rules, a little bit of spicy for you guys 💋(hint)

7 Years Ago

“Two more weeks… I can’t believe it.” Y/n sighs, leaning her head against the shoulder of the boy laying beside her. He smiles, passing a hand over the top of her head, smoothing down her static hair.

“We’re going to be graduates… fuck it’s crazy.” She cranes her neck, smiling as she meets green eyes. He leans forward, pecking her lips quickly. “Alright, let me up. My moms gonna be home soon.” Y/n rolls over, taking the black sheet with her as he climbs out of bed, searching for his shorts.

“Good, I need to help her finish the desserts for your party tomorrow.” After months of hopping from one house to the next, Y/n has finally been able to settle into the guest bedroom of her boyfriend’s family home with what little belongings she owns. She sits up, letting the sheet fall around her hips as she snags her t-shirt and leggings off the floor.

“Oh yeah? What y’all making?” He tugs on his tank top, running his hand through his spiky blond hair as he eyes the naked expanse of her back.

Y/n shrugs, pulling on her shirt before slipping into her leggings. “Um I think a lemon cake.” The young man flops onto the bed and she laughs, laying back down beside him, her fingers twining together to rest over her stomach.

“I do like lemon.”

She rolls her eyes with a smile, “Trust me, everyone knows Trever.” He nudges her with his elbow and she laughs, a joy filled sound she’s finally getting use to.

“God, I can’t wait, finally get out of high school and we can just… do whatever. Well I mean I’ve got collage next fall but still.” Trever sighs blissfully before turning to look at his girlfriend. “Gonna come be my secret roommate? Get me in all kinds of trouble.”

“You wish,” Y/n scoffs, nudging him back. “You know my classes start a semester before yours.” Trever stays silent for a moment, Y/n staring up at the ceiling unaware of the change in his once easy expression.

“You’re still serious about that?” The question catches her off guard, her head turning to look at him. His face is pinched, like he can’t believe her. Y/n sits up, turning to face him fully.

“Y-yeah… Trever I’ve been serious about this. It’s the whole reason I work three jobs and bust my ass in school every week.”

He pushes himself up, leaning against his head board. “Look, babe, I’m not trying to be mean here but… do you really think you can do it? You’re talking about the FBI here… they don’t just take anyone. Especially…” He hesitates and her temper flares, her eyes narrowing.

“Especially, what?”

Sighing he gestures to her with a splayed hand, “Ya know… little country girls who don’t really know what they are doing. If you really want to work somewhere that makes you feel like you’re making a difference, why not go for something you’re almost guaranteed a job?” His expression shifts like he’s had the most brilliant idea, ignoring the obvious hurt growing across Y/n’s features. “911 dispatcher! You won’t even have to waste your money on-.”

“Fuck you.” She spits, standing and marching from the room, anger filling her chest to the point it almost hurts.

“Hey! Don’t talk to me like that!” Trever follows her out into the hallway, grabbing her by the shoulder as they reach the top of the stairs. She spins and shoves him, but he plants his feet, gripping her painfully by the shoulders. “Don’t you ever fucking talk to me like that again. Not in my goddamn house. You’re lucky my parents are even letting you stay here and you’re gonna act like that?” He shakes her harshly, her teeth slamming together making pain shoot up her jaw.

“At least your parents fucking believe in me! Your moms the one that paid off the rest of my entrance fee last week!” She struggles against him, her hands pushing at his chest but his fingers dig into her muscles. His face reddens but before he can say anything the front door swings open. A short, black haired woman stares up at them in confusion, her mouth open slightly.

Trever steps back quickly and Y/n moves down the stairs, keeping her eyes on her so-called boyfriend. “What is going on? I could hear you screaming from the front porch.” She closes the door behind her, her many bracelets tinkling with the movement as she sets her purse down on the landing.

“Nothing, Mrs. Dwayne.” Y/n says quietly, moving down the stairs until she is beside the woman. “I need to go to work…”

“I thought you were going to bake with me dear?” The sad look that passes across the older woman’s brown eyes makes Y/n’s throat constrict, that hated feeling of pinpricks forming in her nose. In the past five months of her relationship with Trever, Mrs. Dwayne has been nothing short of a mother figure to Y/n. Teaching her to cook, to clean, showing her the basic skills of life without so much as a disgruntled look. She didn’t want to hurt her now.

“I-I will.. I mean I am… I just. I need to go get something for work, I mean. I’ll be back.” Before Mrs. Dwayne or Trever can say a word Y/n is bolting out the front door, towards her run down car, rage and devastation simmering in her chest so heavily she can’t think anymore. The need to be anywhere but here propelling the car into motion.

She wouldn’t break down here, not where anyone could find her, when she’s alone she’ll let the tears run freely and her sobs fill the empty space around her.

Present Day

The rest of Tuesday had crept by silently, nothing like the first half of the day. You had joined Aaron for dinner in the dining room, where he informed you he had a few conference calls to make in the morning and he would check on you when he was done. That was many hours ago.

You had been awake long before the sun rose behind charcoal clouds, listening to the rain pelt your window relentlessly. You sit propped against your pillows, lost in deep thought… shameful deep thoughts. Most of your night was spent tossing and turning, what little sleep you did get wasn’t filled with the usual empty darkness, or the occasional bad dream; instead Aaron had taken up every unconscious thought.

You had dreamt of his hands on your body, much like the day before, only this time there was even less in between his burning palms and your skin. You could feel the reverberation of unheard words from his chest into your back, his hands slipping up, up, up cupping your breasts through your bra. His hips ground against your back, the buckle of his belt biting into your skin as his erection pressed against the swell of your ass. Then his palm began to travel lower, straight to your-

You shake your head fiercely, before smothering yourself with a pillow, groaning loudly. You stay like that for a few long minutes, desperately trying to ignore the ache between your thighs until it becomes to much. Throwing the pillow across the room you climb out of bed and head straight for the bathroom, determined a scalding shower would set your mind right.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Steam billows out of the room after you, a scratchy towel wrapped tight around your body, another holding your hair in place atop your head. The skin along the tops of your shoulders and breasts glow pink, having used the hot water liberally. You make your way over to the bags you had placed on the floor last night, grabbing the closest one and rummaging through it.

Something smooth and soft slips against your hand and you grab it, pulling it free of the wadded up clothing. Realizing you should really organize everything before it all becomes a wrinkled mess. Dropping the bag you unfold a Champaign colored silk night gown. It’s simple, a trim of lace adorns the bodice and it reaches about the middle of your thighs, a small slit up both sides. You can’t remember Aaron ever placing it in the cart otherwise you’d of protested.

A large part of you doesn’t want to wear it, or any of the clothing for that matter. That part was called shame. Shame that he had so easily talked you into letting him buy you all of these clothes, better yet talked you into this whole mess in the first place.

But another part of you, the one that really did not want to wear the same sweats again for the 8th day in a row, won the battle. With a defeated sigh you change into the gown. It’s hugs your body, accentuate your curves and clinging to your damp skin. It’s soft, comfortable, and smells clean, that’s all that matters to you.

You grab your over night bag, pulling out your iPod and headphones before crawling back into bed. You set up your computer to finish working, before pressing play on the little pink device and popping in an ear bud. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand only once, but you ignore it, instead typing away on your computer.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Morning slowly rolls into lunch, a half eaten croissant sandwich lays on your nightstand as you dutifully work, bobbing your head in time to the music.

‘What’s in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie-ie, oh’

Something connects with your door, the sound reverberating through the room making you scream. You rip out your ear bud, holding your breath as a series of knocks rattle your door, making your stomach swoop and drop all at once. Slowly you move from your bed to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open a crack. Aaron’s usual hard stare greets you, but his cheeks are tinged red, his lips pressed into a thin line. A shudder wracks through your body at the intensity of his stare, your palms feeling clammy against the door handle.

“Um… hi?” He doesn’t say a word as he wraps a hand around the door, forcing it open and you out of his way as he barges inside. “Hey!”he stops in the middle of the room, one hand on his hip and the other rubs at his forehead. He’s dressed in a darker pair of blue jeans this time, paired with a black collard shirt, probably more appropriate for his conference calls.

“Does your phone not work, or have you just been-.” Aaron turns then and whatever annoyed tyrant he was about to go on dies on his tongue at the sight of you. You’re standing at the door, eyebrows raised and eyes a little wide in panic, but it’s not your expression that stops him. His eye dip to your body, noticing what you’re wearing and something in his stomach stirs at the sight. The dress is stretched around your body, specifically across your stomach, an indent where your belly button is. Your hips are accentuated and he realizes with a small thrill that the fabric is just barely see through as he gaze travels from your breasts to your face.

“Fuck.” He breaths out, and a shiver skirts down your spine at the rumble of his voice, blooming into something warm and fuzzy between your hips. Aaron slowly makes his way to you, and this time you stay rooted to the carpet, your chin lifting and the back of your head bumping against the door as he stops a few mere inches in front of you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Aaron reached up, dragging his knuckle across your spaghetti strap, brushing across your collarbone where it stops on the curve of your neck. He cups the side of your neck, half of his palm resting against your jaw as his thumb sweeps back and forth. That warm and fuzzy feeling has caught fire, burning with a demanding intensity that leaves you reeling.

“My… My phone?” You ask absently, anything to change the direction of what might happen, his dark eyes snap to yours and you wish you had never spoken, anger and lust swirl together in his irises, his pupils dilated.

“Your phone,” He repeats, head tilting slightly as if he couldn’t quite remember what he came here for. “Were you ignoring me?”

You shake your head, then rethink his question. “Well… no not outright. I was working and in my head space, I remember my phone going off a few times but I honestly didn’t think about it.”

Aaron can only find honesty in the doe eyed look you’re giving him. “That’s two, sweetheart. You need to be more attentive.” Your eyebrows furrow, your soft gaze shifting to something hard as you glare up at the older man.

“Be more attentive? If you really needed me you could of just called. I was busy doing work, I still am.” You snap, gesturing towards your bed. He keeps his hand firm on your neck as he turns, glancing at your open laptop and he can faintly hear your music playing. “And what do you mean by two? Why do you keep counting?”

His thumb presses against the bottom of your chin, tilting your head further back and the pressure makes you squirm. He turns back with a small smile, something impish laying behind it. Aaron ducks down closer and you go still, his breath fanning over your lips and you can smell the tingling scent of mint.

“I did. Twice in fact. I’m counting the amount of times you break your rules, how ever many that is will help us decide what your punishment will be.” Aaron watches the blush slowly form across your cheeks before it seeps down your neck underneath his hand. He would be a lier if he said the effect he was having on you didn’t go both ways.

“We didn’t agree on any punishments, and how can I break a rule I didn’t know about?” You utter, quietly, your eyes betraying you and dropping away from his stare. Aaron smirks, nodding as he smooths his hand down to your collarbone, feeling the wild thump of your heart through your skin.

“That’s why I’m here. We’re going to discuss everything. Over lunch.” He steps back leaving you glued to the door staring at him baffled. “What are you in the mood for? We’ll order something in instead of risking the weather.” And as if the sky could hear his wise judgment a roll of thunder shakes the building. You squeeze your eyes shut until the noise dies off and the only thing that can be heard is the rain splattering against the window once more.

Aaron watches you, gaining a new piece of information, before walking towards the nightstand where the muted green hotel phone lays. He notices your half eaten breakfast sandwich and mutters something you can’t quiet hear.

“Um.. pizza?”

“Pizza it is.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Not long after a steaming pepperoni and sausage is sitting on your dresser. Aarons posted in the chair again and you’re perched on the foot of the bed, picking at the melted cheese glancing your boss’s way every now and again.

“You look like you have something you want to say.” Aaron says, taking a large bite of his slice. Your shoulder rises and falls, watching him openly now. He wipes his mouth with a napkin, leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so… human. This is the same man you’ve witnessed stand his ground against men ready to kill, talk down others who are ready to end it all; protect his team with a fierceness that goes unmatched by any other. It’s hard to think of him as anything else besides SSA Hotchner, but right here… is just Aaron.

“I don’t know… I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around this.” You admit, biting into your lower lip. “Everything is just… it’s such a sudden change and hasn’t been easy to get use to.”

Aaron smile is pitying at best and you want to convince yourself you hate it. “I know baby. You’ll get there, though. We have the entire month to smooth everything out and come to understand each other better.” The loose use of different pet names makes your insides bubble with craved affection, shame tinting your skin. “Are you ready to talk?”

“I don’t really have a choice do I?”

“You do, at any point you can call it off, but you know exactly where that leads.” His tone is all to knowing of your decision and you huff, scrubbing your hands across your face. He takes your silence as reluctant agreeance, pulling out his phone. “Last night I came up with some rules, punishments and rewards that I think will suit you and I the best.” He taps away at his phone for a few seconds before continuing. “The first, simple, call me Aaron when it’s just the two of us. Second, don’t doubt me when I say I am buying you something or taking you somewhere. Money is not an issue. Third-.”

“Answer my phone at your beck and call?” The sarcastic question sort of fell from your lips, causing Aaron’s eyes to narrow as he sets his paper plate down on the pizza box.

“Third.” He emphasizes, drawing out the word. “Check in with me. I need to know you are okay, if you’ve made it where you are going, if there is anything you need. It’s important that you do so.”

“That’s going to be hard to do when we will be on cases and working.” You point out, picking apart your pizza and taking small bites of the greasy dough.

“That’s why all of these rules are moldable to how we live. Work is for work, but some things will still apply. Like making sure you are eating, drinking plenty of water, getting rest when you can. After hours, when it’s just us, I expect you to follow your rules completely.” He watches the way you pluck off the pepperonis, setting them off to the side. “Punishments won’t be a daily thing like it is with others. We can pick a day where we sit and go over everything you’ve done wrong for the week, then decide your punishment from there. I have a few ideas such as choosing your clothing for the week, have your write lines, have you kneel for an extended period of time.”

Your nose scrunches, the next thing your peeling from your pizza is the little balls of sausage. “That all sounds a bit childish.”

“You aren’t wrong. But you’d be surprised how childish a person can act when given rules.” You roll your eyes making him chuckle. “Just like that.” You shoot him a halfhearted glare that he returns with a smile. “But if you’ve been a brat all day, disobeying me and forgetting your rules multiple times, then I may need to resort to something a bit harsher. Putting you over my knee, bondage, collar.” He watches your face flush, eyes going wide like a full moon. “Even then. It’s more so about the embarrassment than it is ever about the pain. Some people find these things enjoyable.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Aaron’s smile takes on a more devious twist, letting his head rest against his fist as he props his arm on the chair. “Maybe you’ll just have to find out.”

You stare at him in shock, your half deconstructed pizza laying forgotten in your lap as your insides burn. Your mind betrays you, questions popping up like wildfires; what would it feel like? Would he leave marks on your skin? Would you enjoy it like he says?

Stammering you drop your gaze from his, his smile never fading as he searches the soft planes of your face, forcing himself not to look any lower than your exposed collarbones and the gentle slope of your shoulders. You set your plate to the side, crossing then uncrossing your legs, the bed creaking as you try to sort through your thoughts. “Can um… can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Does David know? And if so is there anyone else?”

Aaron nods, then quickly raises his hands at the look of panic crossing your features. “David is the only one who knows, and that’s not because I told him out right.” Your panic quickly melts into confusion. “David is the one who suggested I bring up a contract with you.”

Your jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted. “Wait.. David’s… he’s into this?” Aaron nods again, letting you piece together what you will with that crumb of information. “Oh… so… that means the two do you were talking about me.”

Aaron laughs, a deep pleasant sound. “I promise, it wasn’t anything like you might think. We are just worried, and he thought it would be more appropriate coming from me than him.” Despite his humor you can feel panic rising steadily in your chest.

“Ho- Aaron what if someone finds out?”

“There isn’t any reason for anyone to know.”

The iron grip of your blooming panic wraps itself around your throat, your body humming with a desperate need to move and open your lungs. You stand from the bed and begin to pace the small area, passing Aaron with each turn on your heel.

“What if one of us slips up? The amount of trouble we could get into is-it’s astronomical. I’d be forced out of my job because I’m suddenly a woman who sleeps with their boss. You would be forced to resign but of course they’ll go easy on you-.”

“Honey-.”

“-Even if it doesn’t get to that point, the entire team will see me differently. They will question the authenticity of my role and my job. Oh God, and Morgan would be relentless with the teasing.”

“Y/n.”

“He still calls me señorita after I messed up my order at that Mexican restaurant a month ago! He’d never let us-.” Aaron leans forward, capturing your wrist as you walk by with a sharp tug. Pain laces up your already tense muscles and on instinct you turn, your hand lashing out and connecting with the side of Aaron’s face.

Everything goes silent, both of you stuck staring at the other in shock. “I-I’m… I didn’t mean-.” Aaron pulls you down and you clumsily fall into him, knee banging against the chair; your free hand landing on his shoulder. Aaron wraps a hand around the back of your neck, squeezing and before you can utter a word his lips crash into yours.

A muffled squeal escapes the back of your throat, squirming in his tight hold but it proves useless as his other hand drops your wrist, circling the back of your thigh and pulling you fully into his lap. Thighs caging his hips, chest pressed tight against his you squeeze your eyes shut. Aaron depends the kiss, moving his lips against yours allowing a few whimpering syllables to reach the air.

Your heart hammers painfully, your hands gripping at his shoulders but to your surprise you find your body relaxing. Every panicked thought is eclipsed by Aaron as his tongue slowly traces the seem of your lips, asking for entrance that you hesitantly give. But once you get your first taste of him you know you’re gone for, a soft moan rattles through your chest and Aaron devours it, licking into your mouth like a man starved.

His rough hand slips up your thigh, mindful to stay over your dress as it rides up, to cup your ass, squeezing the fat making your hips jump. The involuntary movement makes you grind down against him, pulling out another moan that is quickly followed by one of his own. He is all you can focus on, the fingers in your hair at the base of your skull, the growing bulge pressing into your heated core, the way the side of his nose bumps into yours. His thighs shift, sliding you further into his lap with a ragged groan.

Slowly, almost unwillingly you pull back, sucking in deep lungfuls of air. He gives you the silent moment you need, his fingers scratching your scalp slightly as you try to compose yourself atop him. He can’t stop the way his eyes roam to your lips though, the short taste of you forever imbedded in his brain.

When you finally let your eyes flutter open you meet his half lidded gaze, you lick your lips. “I-I need some time alone…”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Two hours later your phone buzzes on the nightstand, you glance at it from where you lay, curled up on your side in bed. Your fingers keep tracing your kiss swollen lips, unable to stop thinking about anything else. Grabbing your phone you roll onto your other side, opening your texts.

A new message from Aaron pops up, and your thumb hovers over the screen, your stomach churning with anticipation. Clicking the screen a long message pulls up.

‘Let me know what you want to change, my sweet girl.’

A smile tugs at your lips without your permission, cheeks reddening as you read over the list of rules, rewards, and punishments that follow. At the very end, boldened followed by a question mark is the word:

‘Spanking?’

You take a deep breath, sealing your fate with a few clicks of your keyboard.

Thank you all for the amount of love this has received 😭 I can’t wait to continue writing the rest of this story. Please comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Tag List: @kneelforloki @hmett20 @axionn @ncis0mrs0gibbs @morgthemagpie @zaddyhotch @little-miss-cherry-cola @fandomawesomness @heart-breaker8 @aad1993 @obsessed-oops @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @rosiehale23 @emptybagofchips77 @icarusgloom @imr0nni3 @cashtons-wife

[chaoticbardlady99]

Lethal Woman: Chapter 5 (GN! Reader x Astarion)

  Note: I know a lot of people don't necessarily read this piece of my work, but for the people who do, I'm sorry for the wait! This one is kinda angsty and still digs into the character's background. I want to create a Durge x Astarion type of relationship rather than a Tav x Astarion type of relationship so the character has some trauma.

Also this character is my way of working through my own traumatic experiences so I guess sorry????

CW: Violence, Gore, mention of Child/Teen SA (very very brief), death, torture, PTSD, murder, dissociation, and panic attacks.

Background- You are a Nightmask Death Bringer who was kidnapped by a Nautiloid Ship. Along with 6 strangers, you search Faerun for a cure for the Tadpoles in your heads- before it’s too late.

Chapter Six

You have never enjoyed verbal confrontation- not because you weren’t good at it, but because it feels like a waste of time when it’s so much easier to throw knives at the problem. You know that it comes from a place of survival- arguing with Dahlia always ended in you being tortured for however many days or nights she felt like you deserved. You learned to stop arguing after the first few months of your training and just do what Dahlia told you to do.

The only verbal confrontations you have engaged in recently was during your assignments, but they were always brief and forgotten quickly.

However, your argument with Astarion three days ago has consumed your every waking thought. 

  You honestly weren’t sure what chain of events had led to the explosive discussion involving confronting the three Goblin Leaders when the day had started so typically.

You and your companions (minus Astarion) all agreed that going to the grove to fight Kagha is a priority and that they couldn’t allow the Shadow Druids to take over the grove. Astarion, however, hadn’t seen it that way. He kept insisting that it was a waste of time, resources, and energy. You didn’t mind the bitching at all- you weren’t necessarily thrilled about “saving the day” either and if it were just adults you would walk away from the whole ordeal- except there are children who need to be protected. 

 It’s your one and only rule- you do not abandon children in need. You don’t want anyone to ever fall into the wrong hands like you had. Eventually, Astarion stopped being huffy.

The fight had erupted quickly and Kagha had managed to slip into the shadows unnoticed in the midst of the chaos. You had barely seen her in time when you realized she was going to run Astarion through with a stake. 

 You had never sprinted so fast in your entire life as you put yourself between him and Kagha, grabbing the stake that was mere inches from your chest. You would have felt entirely victorious if she hadn’t then stabbed you all the way through with the shortsword she had attached to her belt- twisting it deeply into your abdomen until you release the stake. You feel her pull the sword out before stabbing you through your chest with the sharpened wood. 

 You had always thought stabbing a vampire with a stake as a tried and trued method of killing them was stupid- anyone would die if they were stabbed hard enough with a WOODEN FUCKING STAKE. 

  Maybe Dahlia was right- maybe being attached to people is a bad idea because you hadn’t even taken a good look at Kagha before you ran (which is reckless and not how you were trained to fight). 

  You had heard Shadowheart scream your name and saw two flaming hands go past your face as they consumed Kagha. The black dots in your vision had been followed with the unpleasant numbness that you knew all too well. 

 The fear sank into your bones like an anchor. Your breathing had begun to speed up and you felt the panic rip through you as you were being dragged away- unpleasant images flash in your mind and you started to thrash against the person holding you. You began screaming bloody murder and you clawed at the air like a trapped animal. You could barely hear the person’s voice over your looping thoughts and racing heart.

    No, no, no, no, no. Please. I’ll listen. I’ll do anything, just don’t kill me. Don’t leave me here. I’ll do better. I’ll be better!

   You hadn’t known until the end of the battle that Astarion had been the one carrying you away and had to hold you down as Shadowheart and Nettie came rushing to your aid after the final enemy went down.

  You could hear two voices trying to snap you out of whatever fear driven fog you were in, but you were still choking on your own air, floating away in space. Disconnected. Disassociated. You felt the tadpole wiggle behind your eyes, but you were too far gone in your head to even register it.

  Dahlia had killed and resurrected you a few times as a punishment. Sometimes she would leave you out in the sun for a few days before resurrecting you- the process of your skin, organs, muscles, and tendons repairing themselves after being eaten by critters and bugs is a different kind of pain- one you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. What was even worse was that Dahlia eventually found out how to bring you back just enough that you were aware of the vermin desecrating your body, but not enough for you to do anything about it- forced to feel yourself becoming nourishment for the creatures in the forest as you struggled to survive mentally. 

  Dahlia threatened to turn you into her spawn if you didn't remain half way in your body until she came back to get you. You knew her threat was serious because she had taken you coffin shopping after the first time she killed and resurrected you. You had gone for a wood one so that the endeavor could be over with, but Dahlia instead made you lay down in every coffin on display in the showroom- ultimately picking a gaudy, lockable, and iron coffin for you. You were 13-years-old. 

   Dahlia enjoyed driving you to the brink of insanity- only to come back and be your savior or your villain. Somehow she had convinced you that it’s entirely up to you what version of her you received, but it never mattered how well you listened sometimes. She told you you wouldn’t know when she would decide you were past the point of no return and no longer had any use for you as a Deathbringer. Thank the Gods she wanted to make you a Deathbringer more than she wanted you to be her spawn.  

  You weren’t sure when Nettie had forced an herb into your mouth that calms you down; you had eventually come back to yourself just enough to stop fighting her and Shadowheart’s efforts to heal you. 

  Karlach was sitting next to your head and was talking about nothing and everything. Astarion had sat himself on the staircase nearby and you could feel his eyes boring into you as you flinched away and hissed from the healers’ touch. You tried to make yourself smaller, your anxiety getting worse by the minute. It wouldn’t bother you usually, but you weren’t of sound mind in that particular moment. 

 As you became more alert, you made eye contact with Astarion and you were shocked to see him staring at you with anger and grief in his eyes. 

  You hadn’t known (and still didn’t know) that Astarion had been in your head using the tadpole to try to snap you out of whatever hell you were in and he had seen all of it- every last thing Dahlia did to you. The time she hired a man to violently take your virginity after your first moon blood at 14, the resurrections, the priests of Loviatar that would come for days on end to beat you until you wanted to die, and Tessa. Poor, sweet, beautiful Tessa with her mangled corpse and heart being eaten. 

   The walk to camp had thankfully been an easy one. Gale had thankfully had dinner ready by the time your group came back and you sat around the campfire to have dinner with the others. Astarion sat next to you and you couldn’t help but notice how rigid he was. He would usually have his leg touching yours and he would lean in to whisper some snide remark in your ear about whoever was talking- forcing you to suppress laughter as to not bring attention to the two of you.

 Except for tonight apparently- he hadn’t even spoken to you the entire time and made sure there was a considerable amount of distance between you and him. Then the argument happened.

  Wyll and Gale had brought up the plan to take out the Goblin leaders and find Halsin. They had gathered information about the leaders at the grove from Zevlor and had a plan in mind.

  Wyll suggested that everyone split up so that more ground could be covered faster and it would prevent anyone from burning out since they wouldn't be participating in three (possibly four) separate battles. 

 “So I was thinking that Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion would take on Minthara. Myself, Gale, and Lae’zel will take on Dror Ragzlin,” Wyll paused before looking at you, “and if you are up to it in the next three days- I think it would be best if you kill the Priestess and then jailbreak Halsin alone.”

 “That way, we can all remain somewhat under the radar while we are gathering information regarding the Absolute and their Cultists,” Gale chimed in, “and hopefully we will get substantial information before you charge into battle with Halsin.” 

  You pondered their vision and it made sense to you. Priestess Gut would be an easy kill and you can’t imagine that the Goblins guarding Halsin will be much of a challenge either. Except you were unsure of how much better you would feel within 3 days.

 “I don’t have a problem with it,” you said slowly, “does anyone ob-”

 You didn’t even get a chance to finish before Astarion began ripping into Wyll and Gale’s plan- specifically the part about you being alone. He had stood up and gotten into Wyll’s face as he rose to meet the other man's eyes 

 “What kind of moronic plot is that,” Astarion hissed, “they’ve been injured you ignorant fucks.”

 “Astarion,” you said with an edge to your tone.

  He whipped around with that same anger and grief he had looked at you with earlier.

 “You honestly believe you’ll be ready in three days to take on an Absolute Priestess and a group of Goblins by yourself?”

 “Yes, in fact, I do,” you stood up, your voice firm, “I’ve been hurt worse and been able to keep fighting after one day. What happened today-” 

 He cut you off with a growl, “I knew you were naive, Darling, but I didn’t realize how dense you are.” 

 You frowned and said in a whisper, “I don’t know what the word means.”

 “Simple-minded, brainless, dull-witted,” he retorted, “must I continue or are you educated enough to understand what I’m trying to say.” 

You were not made to be loved- only to kill, die, and serve.

You felt your brain disconnect from your body as you swallowed down the emotions. You watched as something in his eyes changed, but you had begun walking away towards your tent. You heard Karlach scold him, but you were already shaking it off- like you said, you’ve experienced worse before and have been able to keep going the next day.

  It didn't change the fact that his words had broken you- he knew that not being able to read or write was a sore spot for you. It was also something you didn’t want to publicize to your other companions. You had been staying up together at night- him reading to you and you listening- making the occasional comment or asking a question. Sometimes you just listen to him tell you about Cazador and Baldur’s Gate. If you fall asleep, he doesn’t move you- instead he sits next to you until you wake up and you walk back to camp together.

You had thought those moments were sacred and important to him like they were to you. You were ashamed to discover it had been an act the whole time and you had been naive enough to fall for it.

 Over the next three days, you avoided him like the plague and he avoided you too. Your nightmares have come back in full force now that your nightly ritual has ceased. Your injury has healed almost entirely despite the occasional soreness, but you are so tired you are barely present as you and your companions walk towards the Goblin Camp. 

  Karlach is your angel from the Hells today as she keeps your spirits high with her bright demeanor. 

 “Soldier, I am so excited for you to see my infernal engine in action,” she puffs out her chest with pride, “Dammon’s explanation doesn’t even begin to do it justice- even if he says a lot of pretty words with that nice mouth of his.”

 “Thank you for that Karlach,” you say with a snort, “been imagining what other talents his mouth has?”

  You begin to cackle as Karlach turns even more red before giving you a shove. 

 “Ughhh have mercy on me! He’s just so pretty and his voice!,” she whines with a dramatic, angsty sigh, “A girl can dream.” 

 “Or a girl can put on her big girl panties and ask to fuck him already.”

 “Oh, SHUT UP you vulgar-!” she puts you in a headlock and scratches the top of your head with her knuckles- effectively ruining your hair, but putting the biggest smile on your face. 

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

   Astarion watches you laugh and dick around with Karlach. He feels the corners of his lips tease into a small smile before he begins to frown again. He notices the dark circles under your eyes and the slight drag in your step, but he doesn’t even know where to begin if he was to approach you.

  He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s missed your presence and your nightly rendezvous together. Truth be told, a part of him is fearful that he’ll never be able to have those moments with you again. 

   His anger had been misdirected at you that night at the fire. He had been so angry with himself (and those dipshits, Wyll and Gale) that he had taken it out on you.  Instead of asking you to take care of yourself or refusing to let you go alone, he decided to publicly shame you.

 The first night you didn’t show up at your agreed-upon spot had twisted his heart and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the feeling came back the second and the third night too.

  He hasn’t cared for someone like this in the last two centuries and he hates it. The last three days had been hell- he followed you every time you left camp to go hunting, check traps, etc. He would give you your privacy of course if you were going to bathe in the river, but even then he would anxiously look around camp until you came back. He tells himself it’s because he knows you are his best chance at being free of Cazador- that he is merely worried for your safety and cares because without you, he doesn’t stand a chance. 

Then there is the part of him that has begun to crave your company just as a companion and he enjoys the friendship between you. This part of him feels like just being your friend will never be enough. 

He refuses to admit his plan may be falling apart, despite it barely beginning. Thankfully, his feelings of self-loathing are keeping him preoccupied.

   He despises himself for being so blind to the fact that you and your nightmares were not from the tadpole, but from the abuse inflicted upon you by that wretched woman- Dahlia. Even thinking her name made him see red and filled him with bitter rage.

  He remembers the night he told you about Cazador burying him alive for a year. He remembers how you had said you understood how he felt and how he had gotten upset with you. You didn’t correct him- didn’t tell him that you have been in a similar situation. He doesn’t know which is worse- being buried in shadows, confined for a year or being left out in the sun to slowly rot and be eaten away. 

  He wishes you had corrected him, but maybe you felt like he couldn’t protect you due to his own history of abuse. Maybe he had made you feel like your pain didn’t matter to him.

  Then, when you began thrashing around in his arms, he had never felt more powerless as he watched you disappear inside your own head like he has done many times. He ground his teeth every time you flinched away from Nettie and Shadowheart. His mind insisted on reminding him of how you looked at him with so much fear and rage while he held you down; how it felt watching your memories- your pain- being ripped open all because you decided to protect him. Again. 

 Then his attempt to protect you failed because he ultimately pushed you away, but maybe that is for your own good too. However, you pushing him away has not changed his plan for today’s fight.

  He will not be going with Shadowheart and Karlach. He had initially planned on approaching them about this, but they came to him first- asking him to hang back with you, undetected, then meeting up with them later. Karlach and Shadowheart told him that they were just as upset with Gale and Wyll’s plan and were going to object before he stepped in. 

 He’s the only one who has a ring of invisibility and the stealth to keep you from suspecting you are being ‘babysat’ as he had overheard you call it when Karlach had suggested she come with you. 

  The goblins outside of the camp had been easy to bypass- Astarion had even convinced the goblin to kiss his shoe (which earned a hushed laugh from you that made him hopeful). Astarion watched as you caught and helped the Owlbear Cub escape, but on the opposite side of that coin, you managed to get Volo in more trouble. 

   You convince Wyll to hold off on the plan until you are able to free Volo- seeing as leaving a famous bard to die at a Goblin Camp would not bid well for the Night Masks and that would not be doing you any favors. Astarion was shocked when Wyll expressed understanding. 

  Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach go with you as Gale, Wyll, and Lae’zel search for Dror Ragzlin.

  The rescue mission quickly turns into another rescue mission when your small group stumbles across a man being tortured by Goblins. Astarion is quick to convince the goblins that they were being summoned elsewhere and, at your behest, he frees the battered man after he gives you more information about the Nightsong. 

   The Goblins had mentioned a man in the next room over so Astarion begins to walk in that direction and you follow him closely- your hand hovering over the hilt of your dagger as you scan the area cautiously.

  Astarion rounds the corner and sees a man that looks like he needs more iron in his diet. The all black garb was not helping and honestly? Neither is the haircut. 

  The man turns and scans the group before his eyes settle on you. Astarion feels his stomach turn as the man gives you a wickedly happy grin. Astarion moves closer to you and eyes the man cautiously, leering at him in the process.

 “I remember you,” the man says, “you’re Dahlia’s little brat, are you not? I remember the first time we met- your screams were positively delicious.” 

  Astarion hears your breath hitch. You are frozen in place, fingers trembling slightly as you fix your posture and take a deep breath. Astarion watches mournfully as you lose yourself in your head.

 “Hello Abdirak.” 

  Abdirak’s smile grows even wider at your empty greeting.

 “What a blessing it must be- for us to meet again, Rowan. Won’t you join me in worshiping My Lady?”

 Shadowheart pipes up, “I didn’t know you were into such things Rowan. I would love to see a demonstration.” 

 “Absolutely not,” Astarion hisses.

 “I’ll do it.” 

 He whips around to look at you as you walk up to the wall. He watches as you take each hit, but you are goading the man the entire time. The throws get more and more painful to watch and he hears Karlach take sharp breaths every time an ax sticks in your back. You walk back over and let Shadowheart heal you as she praises you for your vigor. Astarion uses every last bit of restraint he has to not punch Shadowheart in the jaw.  

  You look distant as you drink a healing potion from your pack before turning back to Abdirak as he spouts on about his wonderful “memories” of worshiping with you. Astarion's hands go to his dagger as he gears up to kill the man.

A flash of movement from your direction prevents him from moving forward.

 Astarion wasn’t prepared for you to cut the man’s throat so violently in one quick motion. Blood pours from Abdirak’s neck and out of his mouth as he chokes. His eyes are wide with fear as you push him on his back- your eyes bright, crimson red and consumed with indifference. Abdirak chokes and looks at you with pleading eyes, but you take a step back as the rats begin to claw and eat at him. The whole endeavor is disgusting and horrific- Astarion could not be more proud to know you. His strangled cries are cut short as he finally succumbs to his wounds.

 Without saying anything, you turn on your heels and stalk to the next room, Astarion quickly in tow. You free Volo before Astarion can even enter the room- the Goblin that had taken Volo away dead on the floor.  

You come out of the room and make eye contact with him. Your eyes are blank and your face is emotionless. You turn away from him and stalk off in the direction of the priestess. He gives you a decent head start before casting the spell and sneaking in behind you as Priestess Gut closes the door.

Let the bloodshed begin.

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Just A Kid Next Door - Chapter 4

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here in the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 4---------------------------------

Removing his shoes, Jason entered the apartment. The apartment was pitch black, except for the light spilling from the kitchen. Sighing, Jason removed his helmet and gear and put them on the coffee table along with his duffel bag. After typing in the code on his wrist, he carefully removed his red domino mask as well.

Jason then made his way to the kitchen. He was wondering where did his little brother stay all this time, because last time Jason checked, Tim had sold the drake manor. And there was no sign of him in Gotham for last six months. It took Jason a whole week to search for his little brother before he gave up.

He knew Tim had a bad habit of disappearing out of the blue for cases and stuff, but their last conversation had formed a pit of dread in Jason’s heart.

Jason sees a lean but built figure facing away from him, sitting on the same barstool that Tim had sat last the time he visited Jason. The figure was clad in red and black Kevlar which included a black and gold utility belt crossing over his chest in an ‘X’ shape and long black cape.

“Jason” the person called out.

“Tim?” Jason asked, surprised.

Wasting no time, Jason went and stood in front of his brother. Long gone was the scrawny little child that Jason had encountered few months ago. The Tim in front of him was different.

Tim had hit a growth spurt. His voice was no longer boyish, it sounded smooth and deep, and he had even lost the little baby fat that he had on his face before, which is now sporting sharp features. His hair a little longer than what Alfred would consider decent. And the most evident thing is that, his brother was not scrawny anymore. He is built.

His brother is fucking built.

Maybe not as much as Jason, but he is still built somewhat equal to Dick.

Tim looked up at Jason, his eyes empty of any emotion unlike last the time he had seen him. Jason then noticed that Tim looked tired, like he hasn’t been eating and sleeping properly. And what Jason finds hard to believe is that he looks older.

He is not a small boy anymore.

His little brother grew up.

His little brother was forced to grow up.

His childhood was snatched away from him. He faced all the hurdles that this world threw on him, alone, even when he had a huge family for him.

“Babybird” Jason called out.

Tim’s eyes were cold, like all the life has been sucked out of him. And Jason can see a faint scar running from his right eyebrows to his cheek.

“Where the hell have you been, Tim? You know how many days I searched for you. Do you know how worried I was? I thought you were kidnapped, or worse kil-.” Jason stopped himself from completing the statement.

Jason sighed heavily. He was pissed.

“Bruce is alive, Jason. He’s in the Manor.” Tim said, his voice sounding almost robotic.

“Yeah Babybird, I knew. Supes informed”

“Okay” Tim nodded.

Silence filled the room for the next few seconds.

“Thank you for your time. I’ll take my leave.” Tim said while standing up and going towards the window. Jason blocked his way, but Tim did not even look up.

“What happened to you, Timmy?”

No reply.

“Talk to me Tim, what happened?”  Jason held Tim on both sides and jerked him.

Tim showed no reaction. Jason’s anger flared.

“Six months, Tim. Six months. I haven’t seen or heard from you for almost six months. And now you pop out of nowhere just to inform me about Bruce’s arrival. Do you know how worried sick I was?” Jason spat.

Still, not even a single expression crossed his brother’s face. Jason felt like his brother was replaced by some stone.

“And did you come here just to inform me about this? After all this time!"

“I doubted the others in the Manor would inform you. That’s why I came here to do it myself.” Tim said, his expression still stoic.

“Fuck” Jason cursed.

He started pacing back and forth while running his fingers through his hair. Tim’s behavior was pissing him off. His brother behaved like a complete stranger.

“Please Jason, let me go.”

“No fucking way, replacement”

Tim sighed. Jason was at least glad for the first human emotion that his brother showed since he came.

Jason didn’t know what else to do. His little brother looked like he was haunted. Pale face, fading scars, dark eye bags and serious expression was not what he expected from his brother when he entered his safehouse.

So Jason did the only other thing that was left out.

He hugged the kid. He noticed that Tim had grown considerably tall, he was now upto Jason’s ear.

This made him feel bad. He had missed seeing his little brother grow up to an adult. ‘Almost an adult’ his brain chimed.

Tim became stiff. And then he almost melted into the hug.

Tim snuggled closer to his brother.

“I missed you so much, baby brother” Jason said, after a minute into the hug.

“I’m not a baby, Jason” Tim hissed.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, but right now you are acting like one” Tim scorned

“Sarcasm still intact, I see”

Tim huffed. Jason laughed and ruffled his his hair while breaking the hug.

“I missed you” Jason said emotionally.

“I know”

“Fuck you, replacement. The correct answer is ‘Yes, I missed you too, Jason, my all time favorite brother” Jason mocked, in an exasperated childish voice.

Tim shakes his head, hiding a small smile. Jason was happy to be the reason behind it.

Jason broke the silence after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

“Did you go and see Bruce, Tim?”  

Tim visibly stiffened. His cold demeanor was back again for some reason.

"Yes"

‘Did I say something wrong?’ Jason thought.

“You went to the Manor?”

“No”

“Then how did yo- wait, you went straight to the watchtower?” Jason asked, surprised.

“Kinda”

“How did you know about Bruce though? Did superman tell you?”

“I figured it out myself, Jason. Tim scoffed, becoming restless by each passing moment.

"I was trying to prove the exact same thing all these months, but nuh-uh, everyone said I’ve become crazy or something. But look how that turned out, huh. I was there in the watchtower, helping the league in bringing back Bruce by the way.” Tim rambled, his voice sounding angry.

Oh

“Oh”

“I’m sorry, Babybird. I shoul-should’ve believed in you. But- ”

“But what, Jason? You all thought ‘Oh poor little Timmy has lost it. He is unable to accept his mentor’s death. He has finally lost the little sanity he had left in him” Tim mocked, his face clear with annoyance and anger.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault”

Tim sighed. He ran his fingers along his hair. He looked everywhere but at Jason.

“No no, I’m sorry Jason. I know I sounded a little crazy back then. Hell, I sound crazy even now. But you should have at least had a little bit of faith in me.”

“I’m quite relived that you did not call me out for being crazy and thought I would become a villain or something” Tim said, recalling the times he have overheard heard the other justice league members and superheroes talking behind his back.”

Jason felt like shit. He felt bad for not believing his brother when he knew that the young boy’s hunch is never wrong.

“I’m sorry, Tim”

Tim gave Jason a tight lipped smile before moving towards the window.

“Will you be coming home, you know, to see Bruce?”

A few beats of complete silence followed.

“Home? What home?”  Tim said bitterly, before pulling over his cowl and jumping from the building.

[txtmetonight]

ETA (estimated time of arrival)

call summary⋆ ★ "what's your ETA?" or when your lovely friends have caught your stupid boyfriend doing something he wasn't supposed to do.

pairing *. * choi beomgyu x fem!reader (lovers to exes)

genre⋆ ★ angst, dark themes

warnings *. * cheating, cursing, some dark themes (at the end), a car crash, slight usage of blood, violence, bad grammar

featuring ⋆ ★ new jeans, lee heeseung, chaewon (the last two are like only mentioned once)

call duration *. * 2.9k

a/n⋆ ★ obviously inspired by ETA. I didn't add too much to the warnings because I didn't really want to spoil too much but just know that there will be dark stuff...so just watch out lol. also if it sucks I wrote this in a day sooooo

taglist *. * @kflixnet

I accidentally choked on cherry pit while writing this and my first thought was thinking that I should clear my search history before dying

“(Y/n) look! Is that your boyfriend?”  

Eyebrows furrowing, you glance at your phone in confusion. Picking up a call from Hanni could mean anything, but this was something that you weren’t expecting. “Huh, what...where even are you guys?” You mutter, bringing the device to eye level and you notice the panicked look of your friends. “I cannot believe this” Danielle says, looking over to the side where the phone couldn’t capture.  

“Oh my god!” You stare intently at the screen as Hanni flips the camera over to film what looks like a young couple dancing. She zooms in and that’s when it hits you–that young couple was your boyfriend with another girl, whispering something softly in her ear, nudging his nose into her neck causing her to giggle and blush.  

“Hurry up and get here, we just sent you the location–oh shoot we have to perform, call you back in a bit!” The call cuts with Hyein getting her last words in. Leaning back in the driver's seat, you ruffle your hair with distress and betrayal, biting your lips hard enough to make them bleed. Your friends were right this whole time, and you didn’t have the heart to believe them. 

“Gyu will you be busy tomorrow?” You ask, laying on his lap, taking in the sweet breeze and warmth of your boyfriend who just chuckles at you, pinching your cheek with his fingers. “I am!” He pouts, “I have a family reunion to go to...why?” You shake your head at him, before turning over, laying right on your stomach as you stare at him with a lovesick gaze. “Just wanted to know.”  

That fucking asshole was lying straight up to your face. 

Pushing the gear stick forward, you sigh with anger, nails gripping onto the steering wheel, nearly breaking them from a harsh brake at a very reckless driver. You had a gut feeling that Beomgyu was doing something shady for the past six months or– that’s at least when the feeling started to become more apparent after your friends started complaining even more than usual about how nasty of a boyfriend you were dating (They’ve always opposed your relationship since the start). From always coming up with so many different excuses that it was starting to be deemed stupid, to hiding his phone when you had a chance to peek at it, he wasn’t very trustworthy. 

It just took so long to realize it when all of the signs were laid right in front of you, and it didn’t help that your best friends practically read out each and every syllable for you. 

“(Y/n) you’re dating Beomgyu right?” Minji randomly brings up while painting your nails, halting to look at your rose-tinted cheeks. “You’re dating Beomgyu, the fucking player!?” Danielle winces at the use of language, softly slapping Haerin on the arm. “Gosh, language! Anyways Haerin’s right...wasn’t he just dating Chaewon last week?” You hum at their words, silently admiring Minji’s pretty work on your nails. “Yes, but he told me that he’s liked me since sixth grade, and he was just super shy to ask me out!” The other five girls exchange worried glances, gulping at your infatuated state. “Don’t waste your time on him, he seems real bad! If you want my opinion you should end it with him.” Hyein simply vocalizes. Grumbling at her words, you start to feel disheartened at her words. But you really really wanted to give him a chance. “I–I’ll see. If he’s bad then I’ll break up with him, honest!” You place your hand on your heart giving a pledge to the rest of the girls, making them giggle. “Mhm alright.” 

Biting your tongue, you’re now sure you’ve made the grave mistake of not listening to them from their first thoughts about Beomgyu and now you’re paying the unfortunate price for it. And God it didn’t help that you had the biggest and fattest crush on the boy since seventh grade when he shared his colored pencils with you. You knew it was too good to be true when he mentioned that he liked you a grade before you ever did.  

The ringtone from your phone forces you to step on the brake pedal, abruptly stopping the vehicle in the middle of a parking lot that you were in because of a wrong turn. Beomgyu’s favorite song was playing on repeat, and you almost forgot that you had changed the ringtone the day you guys shared playlists for each other. On other days you would reminisce about the honeyed memory with a huge smile on your face but this time you start to get more furious, pressing the accept button immediately so you wouldn’t hear more of that foolish song. 

Background music was playing heavily from your phone as the screen shakes around, quickly flipping the camera around to face Beomgyu and that mysterious girl, and with a gasp you soon realize that the girl was one of his exes; Soo-Ah. They move in a little closer and her hand is grazing his bicep while his fingers thread through her hair, tucking it out of the way.  

“I saw it before, but you weren’t there” Danielle whispers, and it looks like she was holding the device this time because she then ushers the other to step closer with her. You stare incredulously at the act of infidelity between your boyfriend and his past ex as she tugs slightly on the purple cardigan that you bought for him, before she places a small peck on the corner of his lips, making him smile widely.  

From instinct, you try to look for the promise ring that he was supposed to be wearing but you turn pale once you realize that you can’t find it anywhere on any of his fingers. Twisting your body over, you open the glove apartment to find his faux diamond ring. He must’ve shoved it in there when you were dropping him off at your house. 

He gave you the pair of rings for your six-month anniversary, promising that he would stay by your side forever. 

“I’ve told you; he’s flirted with so many girls” Hyein comments. “So, dazzling” Hanni mocks, clicking her tongue at the cheesy touches of love they were both leaving on each other. “Honestly between us, he’s been totally lying this whole time.”  

“Why couldn’t you come to my birthday?” You smile weakly at the girl before letting out a strained cough. “Sorry, I was sick.” Biting her lip, Hyein looks at the other girls who looked like they felt pity for you. “You know… we saw your ‘boyfriend’ at the park. He was with a random girl!” Your heart drops but you brush it off. “Beomgyu was probably with his cousin. He said that they were coming by and it just so happens to be that she’s a girl and about our age, don’t sweat it.” You don’t notice the conflicted looks on the girls. 

“Hyejin got in so much trouble today.” It was a nice summer day today and you were having a picnic date with Beomgyu, a basket of sandwiches and snacks littering the heart-patterned blanket you brought. “Oh, okay?” Confused by his random outburst, you look at him through your lashes, arranging the meat on his lunch. “She–I have to give her my notes for class today” He breathes, his attention finally off his phone. “Wait, like right now?” Beomgyu sheepishly grins, taking the sandwich out of your hand, not even mumbling thanks to you. “Yeah. She’s going to fail the class if she doesn’t get them right now and you know how hellbent my parents and her parents are on me making sure she passes the class, right?” You ogle at him getting up, muttering for him to stay for a while. “Sorry babe, I’ll see you later alright?” And with that, he scurries away.  

You were walking to school with Haerin and Danielle, talking about the gossip that was circling around the school, and you don’t expect the topic to shift towards your boyfriend, but it does. “(Y/n), you know the day that Jiwon broke up with his girlfriend.” Danielle gasps, shaking your hand in hers while you nod a gentle ‘yes’ to her. “I caught your boyfriend, hugging her, Haerin back me up!” The cat-eyed girl jumps from her spot nodding frantically, hoping that you’ll finally open your eyes and see the truth. But instead, you just chuckle gingerly at the two, finding them entertaining. “They’re both very close friends, of course, he’ll comfort her. She just broke up her two-year-long relationship with her boyfriend. That doesn’t mean he’s doing anything wrong. If anything, I’m happy that he’s being kind!” Haerin’s jaw practically falls to the floor, “Oh my god, he’s got you wrapped around his fucking finger.” 

Snapping yourself from your daze, you catch the girls going even closer to the ‘couple’ and you find yourself on the edge of your seat, biting your nails in anticipation. “You’re not driving, are you? Because we don’t want you to get in a crash.” You whimper a small no to Danielle’s words. “Oh my god, what is he saying to her that has her giggling like that?”  

“It’s kind of gross–wait go in a little closer so us and (Y/n) can hear their words!” Minji heaves and you hear the phone tumble around a bit only for the screen to show the wooden tree bark before it moves, exposing the tiniest bit of the camera. “Stop shoving–oh God what an asshole!” Haerin gapes and you start to tear up a bit.  

The words he was saying to Soo-Ah were the exact ones he was whispering to you last night, with what you thought was so much fucking love and endearment, but you guess not. 

“We can go wherever you like” Soo-Ah nods at his words, pushing herself up against his chest. “Baby, say the words and I’m down” “Is that so?” The girl in his arm sighs, wrapping his arm around her waist and you notice the slight dig of his fingers in her skin. The same gesture that he did to you whenever he felt clingy and gentle. “Yeah,” He says, taking her cheeks into a pucker, bringing her up to her tiptoes, her fingers toying and clawing at his lilac clothing. “I just need you on my side” He finishes, taking her lips into his, enveloping her body into a hug, to kiss her tighter, making out with her right on the spot. 

“That cheating bastard!” You cry, slamming your fist into your steering wheel, eliciting a loud honk that caught the attention of some stray onlookers, though you didn’t really care. You loved him so much. So so much to the point you would do anything for him. And all he did was take your beating heart that was filled with so much adoration so he could rip it into tiny shreds.  

“(Y/n) …" Minji tenderly calls, obviously in shock that he would go so far as to eat her face, especially at a public party. “I’m fine! I’m fine! I’m totally fucking fine!” You start the car once more, fueled with even more anger and rage. “I’m almost there, just five minutes.” You hear Hyein curse the boy out and from how idiotic you were feeling right now, you have the urge to laugh. “Yeah, come quick, we’ll stop them from–oh shit!” Looking down at the phone, you’re met with the brown grooving again. “Are you guys, okay, what’s wrong?”  

“That stupid snitch Lee Heeseung must’ve told on us, we got caught!” You recognize the name ‘Lee Heeseung’. He was one of Beomgyu’s best friends and was part of that player group they had going on. “Was he even near us?” Hyein groans. “Cowards! They ran away...I think they left the party (Y/n). We’re so stupid, oh we’re so sorry!” You twinkle at their words, laughing silently at them. “It’s alright, I’ll be there soon, they shouldn’t have too gone far.” 

 The phone lifts and you see the bright blue sky again before the screen turns around to face your best friends, who look as angry as you. “We’ll look around for them and if we catch them, we’ll call you.” Hanni declares, saluting to you to lighten up the mood just a little bit. “Of course.” Driving with one hand, you carefully grasp your phone, finger hovering over the end button. “And if you see him, call us, bye!” Danielle cuts the call before you, having you drop the phone into the passenger seat. 

Gosh he was stupid, wasn’t he? 

“Hearing you ramble about that boy is making me spin. My head hurts when you can’t let him go, trust me you deserve better than that!” You were at a party at Hanni’s house and with all the girls there so you could touch up your makeup in Hanni’s room, you got ready for another round of grumbling about your boyfriend. “Don’t exaggerate that much, you know I’m the longest he’s ever been with!” You excitedly squeal, patting blush on your face. “I’ll give you a hand if you want! He’s just playing with your heart. Boys like him are always lying!” Rolling your eyes at Minji’s words, her words don’t give you an impact from the number of times you’ve heard them. “I promise I’m fine. thank you, guys, though! I’m sure I couldn’t ask for better friends anywhere.” Pulling them into a hug, you hope to distract their minds. You’d rather not talk about it anymore; it was starting to get tiresome. 

It was midnight.

Driving your car around the place, you find out that Beomgyu and his side chick haven’t gone anywhere by car, by asking your younger sister and the girl’s neighbor if their cars were there or not. Spoiler alert, their cars were still there, and double checking with Minji, you also know that his friends and her friends’ cars were still at the party and haven’t left since they were caught. You were ninety percent sure that Beomgyu was still here, crawling around to make sure that your friends left so he could resume his time at the party. Probably smooching up the girl. 

That rat. 

Starting to get more desperate you speed up your vehicle, silently praying that you would run into Beomgyu and Soo-Ah. Head floating above the clouds, you don’t notice a young couple, running into the street, crashing into your car, and shattering the windshield. 

Coughing at the debris, it takes you a second to register the two people on the hood of your car, one pinning the other one down. “Hey assholes, watch where you’r–Beomgyu!” You scream and the boy who looks bewildered freezes at your voice, quickly shooting his head down at the girl who seemed immobile against the hood. “I–(Y/n)–no baby, what are you doing here?” He shrinks from your furious eyes, dilated pupils trained on you as you reach over to the passenger compartment, the ring on your finger burning into your skin.  

Taking a small drive to the edge of the cliff to cool off wasn’t your ideal spot, but it helped. With the sun glowing in the background, you breathe in the fresh air of the morning breeze. Your car was ruined but you didn’t feel any pity for the old thing, instead sitting on top of the trunk where you could admire the swaying trees. Your ringtone startles you yet again, but you’re expecting the call this time. Hanni’s name pops up on your screen as you accept the call with a newfound sense of freshness and satisfaction.  

“Hey (Y/n)! Did you find Beomgyu at all? You didn’t call us last night.” Giggling at her eagerness, you play with an object in your hand, swinging it back and forward like a rocking ship. “I did! And you know we officially broke up! But he was like really fucked over, crying and begging for me to take him back. It was kind of funny.” You could almost see the pout on her face,

 “I wish I could’ve seen that!” You yawn into your hand, “I really wish too.” Hanni goes silent for a second before speaking up. “Let’s have a sleepover at my house tonight! We could help you get over him if you want.” Nodding to the phone, you place the device between the crook of your shoulder and your head, trying to lean down to inspect whatever was brushing your exposed ankle–seeing something purple. “That would be helpful, thank you. Anyways I’ll call you back later, bye!”  

You cut the call after her goodbye and put the phone down so you could jump down from the trunk, letting out a little grunt when you land on your feet. Moving back slowly you realize that you made a mistake. You accidentally let a purple cardigan slip through the crack of the trunk opening...not that it mattered though. Dropping the hammer that you were just swinging seconds ago, you watch with bittersweet memories as the red stains the sand, just as the dripping color, slowly slides down your ugly green car, clashing the hues together.  

Who knew that keeping a tool like that in a compartment in your car would become handy someday? Definitely not you, who knew from that damned party at your best friend’s house that he was being unfaithful to your loving heart.  

If only Beomgyu was aware of his surroundings, ho-hum.

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING ENTERTAINMENT/FEDERATION MAGAZINE: OCTOBER 1996

EL SID! 

THE POTENTIAL IS ABOUT TO BE TAPPED

By Vince Russo

In the early 1990s I just didn’t buy it. This man didn’t belong in anyone’s shadow. Especially a champion who had by far seen his better days. In my opinion, I will always view WrestleMania VIII as a disappointment. It should have been Sid's day… Sid’s year… and Sid’s era. Instead, a voodoo man, a Warrior, and immaturity crashed and ruined his party, thus forcing him almost into obscurity.

In 1992, at WrestleMania VIII, Sid Eudy should’ve, would’ve and could’ve beat Hulk Hogan. He was bigger, stronger, faster and smarter than the then champion. Unfortunately, in his own words, he was not ready for the “big time”. A hometown boy from Arkansas, Sid was not quite prepared for the lights, cameras and action of the World Wrestling Federation. As a matter of fact, before a deserved rematch could have even be issued, Sid had already packed his bags and headed back to “Razorback Country”.

After some extensive soul searching, a more grown-up, seasoned Sid made his comeback to the World Wrestling Federation three years later in 1995. Little did he know that the hurdle that would stand in his way this time was not himself, but rather something that would be far beyond his control. His “greenery” was small potatoes when compared to the professional jealousy that Sid would have to overcome in order to get to the place he wanted to be… the top. Kids, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again–WRESTLING = SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT = BIG BUSINESS = POLITICS and with politics comes jockeying for position. Yes, there are many Willie Shoemakers at TitanSports, both outside…and INSIDE the ring. When Sid made his long awaited return, those who ruled the ring at the time may have been intimidated by him… in more ways than one. He was the new kid on the block, not to mention the new “BIGGER” kid. Fans immediately began cheering him because he was “cool,” and that became threatening to many of his peers. I was at Monday Night Raw in Macon, Georgia, on  February 20, 1995, when Sid debuted as the new bodyguard of Shawn Michaels. To say the place became an asylum would be an understatement! When Sid made his way down that aisle, the patients went beyond CRAZY! They ripped off their strait-jackets and got ready to rock! 

Folks, to certain individuals–THIS WAS NOT GOOD.

“Warning, warning, Will Robionson. An intruder is looking to steal our spotlight!” That’s right, IN MY OPINION, a certain number of Sid’s peers may have been shaking in their boots. If Eudy were, by chance, to become more popular than them, it would be devastating… devastating to their egos, of course, NOT to the business as a whole! So, in more ways than one, they saw to it that Sid was buried. And, buried he was. Left out to rot… fossilize… chum for the maggots.

For the next six months, Sid would lie low. IN MY OPINION, he had become a victim of “circumstance”. For understandable reasons, he may have become sour with the business. The politics seemed to have pushed him into the “could have been” category. He even went so far as to announce his retirement from the squared circle. If this truly was the case, then it would be nothing short of a tragedy. A wasteful loss not only to the World Wrestling Federation, but to the business as a whole. 

But wait, at the end of the tunnel you could hear the firing of a match. Yes, there was light.

The balance of power shifted among the ranks of the World Wrestling Federation, largely due to the almighty buck. Those who may have buried Sid earlier were not being buried themselves in a gushing flood of undeserving greenbacks. Remember, those who tore Sid down behind his back said it was for the “good of the company”. Well, my question is, “Where was the ‘good of the company’ when you were negotiating behind the boss’ back?!”

You  know what, scratch that. I’m not going to get up on my soapbox because that is not what this commentary is about. This commentary is about SID. And, for the reasons I am about to mention, I strongly believe that Sid’s time has arrived!!!

Along with Bret Hart, Shawn Michaels is probably the most “confident” individual I have ever known. He doesn’t worry about the “threat” of others overthrowing his Kliq because as the World Wrestling Federation Champion he realizes what he brings to the dance. He doesn’t have to tear down others to build himself up, because he already is the tallest skyscraper in the city! He has no shortcomings. Nothing to hide or protect. He has the belief in himself that no man is  going to knock him off his perch. It’s the security of himself. Shawn Michaels knows that Sid is good for the “business”. He’s a monster with a personality and people will pay money to see him! Sid will help everybody–including Shawn Michaels–in the long run.

With Shawn Michaels on top, there is no question in my mind that Sid’s time is NOW! Politics can take a beat seat and let him do the driving! The potential has only thus far been tapped… but now it will EXPLODE!!! 

Yes, Sid Eudy just may soon… “RULE THE WORLD”!

[sixstringphonic]

Trump’s job cuts hit workers at America’s parks and forests

By Austyn Gaffney for The New York Times: Climate Forward Newsletter

Public lands in the United States have long been considered a national treasure.

But, since Thursday, at least 3,000 employees have been laid off across the United States Forest Service and the National Park Service, part of a wave of Trump administration cuts to the federal work force. Together, these agencies oversee 278 million acres of land, roughly the size of Texas and Montana combined.

With whole teams slashed and fewer staff to provide basic functions like cleaning up trails, emptying pit toilets, carrying out trash and staffing visitors centers, employees say these vast public lands are in danger of falling into disarray.

Current and former employees of these agencies say their departments were already underfunded and understaffed before the job cuts, particularly as climate change has begun to significantly transform America’s natural areas.

Over the weekend, I spoke to nearly a dozen employees who were terminated or saw their job offers rescinded, along with managers forced to deliver those notices from the Forest Service and the National Park Service. Most had been employed by the federal government for years or even decades.

Some of the cuts could threaten the local economies and safety of nearby towns, the employees say. Among those whose jobs were eliminated were river and wilderness rangers, scientists who help keep forests healthy to minimize fire danger, analysts, attorneys and administrators. Many were trained to assist firefighters, possessing skills that are required each summer as climate change causes bigger and more severe fires.

The workers had a lot in common: Most lived in small towns, most had no backup plan when they were let go and all expressed that they had worked for these agencies because they loved public lands and wanted to be of service to their communities.

Patrolling America’s wilderness

Kate White, 29, lost her position as a wilderness ranger outside Seattle on Saturday after six years of seasonal work and 20 months of permanent employment with the U.S. Forest Service. She and her six co-workers took care of 500 miles of popular trails crisscrossing the Cascade Mountains. In a single season, she said, they monitored 70 backcountry toilets, carried out 600 pounds of trash and disposed of more than a thousand piles of human waste.

This weekend, most of her co-workers also lost their jobs. Just one is left, which means just one staff member has the primary duty of patrolling 340,000 acres of wilderness, White said.

Many workers in these agencies, outside of full-time firefighting, carry what’s called a red card, which means they’re trained to assist in wildland firefighting. Without those personnel, it will be more challenging to manage the increased risk of wildfire under climate change.

Another employee who had a job offer rescinded at Mount Rainier National Park worried over visitor safety in the mountains. “Large areas of the alpine terrain are going to be unstaffed and inaccessible for long periods of time,” the employee said.

An employee at a national forest in California said the cuts, plus unfilled roles, meant their particular forest would go into the summer with 80 percent fewer staff members overall, not including full-time firefighters. Both employees asked to remain anonymous out of fear of being terminated or not being rehired by the U.S. government.

Search and rescue

On Friday morning, Stacy Ramsey, 49, was monitoring a section of the Buffalo National River, a 135-mile waterway in northern Arkansas managed by the National Park Service, when she saw an email pop up on her phone with a headline that included the word “termination.”

She was still in shock when, minutes later, she received a text to return to headquarters. There, the division chiefs, some crying, gathered in a conference room to tell her the firing was effective immediately.

“They looked like someone had died,” Ramsey recalled the next day. She’d spent three years in a contract position, working weekends while holding down a second full-time job just to get her foot in the door. She’d become the park’s only year-round river ranger last March.

Ramsey had grown up along the Buffalo in Searcy County, one of the poorest parts of Arkansas. She made $39,000 a year, a pay cut from her previous job teaching middle school, but just enough to cover her mortgage and bills.

In the last few years, Searcy noticed the river was changing, which she attributed to more extreme weather under a warming planet. Last summer, an extended drought caused four miles of the river to dry up, killing hundreds of fish. Major floods have become more common, eroding the banks and making the river wider and shallower. Floods also wash in trees, creating dangerous culverts called strainers. She said these events can increase dangers for park visitors.

Her job as a river ranger was to keep them safe: She monitored the waterway, talked to visitors and issued warnings for parts of the river that could put them at risk.

Safety and education

Workers I spoke with said there will be simply be fewer people to educate visitors about the wilderness.

In 2022, Jillian Greene, a 24-year-old wilderness ranger, moved to Montana for a seasonal position with the U.S. Forest Service. She fell in love with the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness, a region of steep peaks draped in rapidly melting glaciers. She lost her job last week. In her position, she spent five to eight days at a time backpacking into high elevations to clear trails and clean up campsites. A decade ago, five wilderness rangers covered roughly a third of the nearly one million acre wilderness over the summer season; last year there were two, including Greene. This year, unless staff are rehired, there won’t be any. Greene said she worried about an increase in potentially dangerous encounters between visitors and bears and about fewer hands to put out untended campfires. “I’m so scared for the future of public lands,” Greene said. “It’s been a really emotional weekend.”

[nicolainhelsinki]

Sacred new beginnings (6th of January 2025)

Ironic, how "sacred" and "scared" are anagrams of each other. I always imagine these hipster scenarios where new beginnings, when it comes to writing, happen in front of a cup of hot "macchiato something" at a very hipster bar, where sip after sip you feel like the world is in your hands. In this scenario it's eternally 2013, I have a long beard I didn't use to have back then, but as then, I'm on Tumblr.

I had plenty of blogs, mostly unknown, where what I used to post was little more than pictures of Marina & The Diamonds, Lana Del Rey and whatever was "aesthetic" at the time. And don't forget the background, it had to be either a galaxy, or nothing! Here with me in this moment, there isn't any macchiato something, since my second year without caffeine has just started, and all I have is a recently trimmed moustache. I'm in my bed and my partner is slowly starting to snore. I feel it coming. It's night and since I moved to Helsinki from Italy my sleeping routine has been all over the place. So here I am: awake until 3 AM every night. Sometimes I read to feel like I have accomplished something, sometimes I just stare into the void, noticing every little constant sound: from my snoring beloved, to the fridge having its perpetual little monologue. Sometimes I check Reddit, where I read one of those r/gaybros subreddit or r/Italy; there, open up about various topics. Some complain about their neighbors, some open up about some ex.

I imagined something more epic for this beginning. At the very least, I could have gone to the library, where the mandatory silence and the beauty of the building make you feel like you’re owning the world. But my beginning with this city, and this country, has been far from sacred.

It’s been full of love, of course, since I’ve been living with my sweet half after six months apart. My partner is Finnish and uses they/them pronouns. If you’re one of those people who complain about pronouns, this isn’t the place for you.

I don’t want to write my whole story on this blog, it’s okay for it to remain personal in some way, but I need my words and thoughts not to go to waste. I moved here on the 24th of September 2024, and although I could have approached these months the way I see other people do (come here, go there, fall in love with the city), all I’ve done is searching for a job. I came here for love, and I’m deeply proud of that, but I didn’t know about the recession! It’s been dramatic to notice that my knowledge and experience have little to no value here because I don’t speak the language.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some jobs. Short ones, but they happened. Still, I aim to live, not just survive.

This is usually the part I don’t want to vent about when I meet people, because I don’t want anyone to feel awkward about my discomfort. But I hope you, reader of this Tumblr blog, won’t feel the same.

If you’re reading this, send me some hope, or let me know if you’ve been through something similar. There’s a world to talk about, but this is enough for tonight.

I’ve got to go now. There’s a long night ahead to listen carefully to. Take care. Nicola

[flowersforbucky]

diet pepsi

logan howlett x reader - 2.8k words

summary: old!logan x reader limousine sex. inspired by the song diet pepsi by addison rae

author's note: i recently rewatched logan and haven't been able to stop thinking about what it would be like to have him in the backseat of that limousine. then i heard this song a few days ago and knew exactly what i had to write.

warnings/tags: smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m&f receiving), pet names (princess, honey), reader has kinda longish hair (nothing too specific), a little angsty but mostly fluffy? happy ending, reader is afab, no use of of y/n, 18+ only mdni

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when we drive in your car, i'm your baby

losing all my innocence in the backseat

say you love, say you love, say you love me

losing all my innocence in the backseat

The cab of the limousine reeks of leather and smoke - both stale and fresh, from the cigars he has chain smoked over the last few days and two thousand miles - give or take a few.

It's a scent you've grown surprisingly fond of. You know that no matter how long this thing between the two of you lasts, you'll forever associate the smoky sweet aroma of tobacco with him.

You've been laying down across the backseat for the last few hours, trying and failing to get some sleep at Logan's request, as he drives from Reno back to Mexico. The two of you had left the familiar comfort of the abandoned smelting plant three days ago in search of a bulk supply of Charles’ medications - a search that led you to Nevada and yielded a six month supply of injections and pills.

You sit up in the middle of the seat, meeting Logan's gaze in the rearview mirror.

He's exhausted. He’d never admit it to you, but you know him better than he likely realizes. He's hanging on by a thread.

The digital clock on the dashboard reads it's just past noon. Another four hours and some change to go.

Asking him to pull over and rest for his own sake would be a fruitless waste of time, this much you know from the drive to Reno. What was supposed to be at least a seventeen hour drive turned into a fifteen hour drive as he sped the whole way and only stopped for the absolutely necessary food, bathroom, and gas breaks. Only after obtaining the crates of medicine did he allow himself the simple luxury of a few hours sleep.

“What's that look for, princess?” he asks as he breaks his stare, his eyes snapping back to the endless expanse of the blazing asphalt in front of you.

“I'm hungry,” you shrug with a sly grin. “And I need some coffee. And I miss you.”

He lets out a low laugh, a smirk forming across his features in the reflection of the glass. You don't miss the way his fingers grip the cracked leather of the steering wheel tighter at the words I miss you.

“We'll stop for something to eat soon, I promise.”

You hum in response, moving from your position on the further bench seat to the one that rests against the driver’s and front passenger’s seat, directly behind him. You lean your chest against the backrest, dangling one arm across the seat so that you can bring your hand to stroke the prominent stubble across his jaw.

“And what about the last thing?” you murmur, running your thumb along his bottom lip as you stare at him. He tenses beneath your touch but doesn't take his eyes off of the road before him.

“I'm right here, princess. Don't gotta miss me.”

“You know what I mean.”

He's barely touched you since you had first left Mexico three days ago - and you understand why, truly. He's been focused on getting to Reno, getting the medication, and getting the fuck back home before the last few days worth of Charles’ injections and pills are gone. Even when you stopped at a random motel for a few hours of shut eye, you were both too exhausted to do anything other than sleep.

In fact, it was the first time that you've slept in a bed together without him being between your legs. You didn't mind it all - the simplicity and the intimacy of just sleeping curled into each other was something you'd always cherish from this trip.

But you’d be lying if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t aching to have him in all of the ways that you’re so used to having him.

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean,” he sighs, kissing the side of your thumb that still rests along his bottom lip. It's pathetic how the small act has you ready to crawl over the seat and straddle him. “We're almost home, though. Don't you want me to shower first?” he teases.

You know that both of you have to smell something foul - the motel you'd stayed in didn't even have a functioning shower, and the western United States heat is no joke this time of year. You both did the best you could with the bathroom sink and some baby wipes that you snagged from the gas station across the road, but whore's baths and deodorant just don't quite cut it in ninety-five degree weather.

“No, I don't,” you admit - you can't even bring yourself to care if it's pathetic. You bring your face closer to his, your nose nuzzling just under his ear. “I want you to pull over, get in the back of this car, and let me ride you until we both come.”

He hisses when your lips lock around the tender flesh of his earlobe, causing him to swerve and quickly correct back into the right lane.

“Fuckin hell,” he grunts, knuckles gripping the wheel so tight that they start to turn white. “Can't be saying that shit when I'm driving. Gonna make me wreck this thing.”

You laugh into the side of his neck, trailing wet kisses along his skin. “I'd suggest pulling over, then.”

He sighs again, all but melting into your touch now. You know you're getting your way when he flips on the turn signal and looks over his shoulder before merging right and then pulling off on the side of the desolate highway.

“You know that you've got me wrapped around your little finger, don't you?” He asks as he unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the limousine, slamming the driver's door behind him before you can respond. You move back to your original position on the back bench seat as he crawls in with you, pulling a spare key from his pocket to lock the still-running vehicle.

“Wrapped around my little finger is exactly where I intend to keep you.” He smiles - the first real smile you've seen from him in days and you melt a little inside. He kneels on the felt carpet before you, splaying his hands on your inner thighs and pushing them apart.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmurs into the flesh of your thighs, his facial hair tickling the bare skin. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of both your shorts and panties and you raise off the seat a few inches, giving him the clearance to tug them down past your ankles. You're left in nothing but a thin cotton tank top, your nipples pebbling from the way he's looking up at you.

“Cause that's exactly where I like to be.”

It's a rare occurrence that the two of you exchange such sweet sentiments - he usually only goes as far as whispering my girl in your ear as he sheaths himself inside you after late nights at work, when he comes home with lips that taste like single malt whiskey.

He loops his arms around the backs of your legs and tugs you forward on the seat, bringing your cunt directly to his mouth. Any sense of hesitation he initially had about hooking up on the side of the highway goes out the window as soon as his tongue licks a thick strip from your hole and up to your clit. You hiss, digging the fingernails of one hand into the old, weathered leather of the seat and bringing your other to lace your fingers through the salt and pepper colored locks of his hair.

As tired as he is from days of driving and very little sleep, you would never be able to tell with the fervency of his tongue lapping your folds. He always eats you like it’s the last time he ever will - and knowing Logan as well as you do, there’s always that chance that it very well could be.

So, you grab his hair and pull him as close to you as he can possibly be and revel in every lick, every kiss, every tug of his lips around your clit as he makes you believe that the two of you could have a lifetime of these moments together.

You can already feel that tell-tale warmth blooming in the pit of your abdomen when he brings a singular finger to your hole and plunges it inside you. Your walls constrict around the digit and he groans against your clit, the vibration spurring you closer to the edge of your climax. You grind yourself into his mouth as he sinks his tongue inside you, your back arching off of the seat and your eyes rolling into your head.

He pulls his tongue from inside you and moves his mouth up to your clit once more, locking his lips around the nub and pulling away with a wet pop that sends you over the edge. You ride out your orgasm on his face, writhing until he pulls his finger out of you. You’re still seeing rainbows of colors and stars when he brings the wet finger to your mouth and shoves it past your lips, swirling the sweet tang of your juices around in your mouth.

“You taste that?” he murmurs, pulling his finger out of your mouth and inserting it in his own. He takes his time, cleaning the last remnants of your slick from the digit. “That’s how you’ve got me so wrapped around your finger.” His words make your head spin, like you’ve had one too many shots of his favorite bourbon that he always keeps a steady supply of.

“Your turn.” Your words even sound slurred as you bring your fists to his chest, urging him backwards onto the seat opposite of you. You take his place on the floor of the limousine, crawling towards where he’s now lounging with his large thighs already spread wide for you.

You’re about to reach for the button of his jeans when he leans forward, grabbing the tail-end of your tank top and quickly tugging it over your head. You’re left bare before him and you’re hit with a wave of relief that these windows are tinted beyond what’s legal in the state of New Mexico.

His eyes travel from your thighs and up your stomach as he sweeps your hair over your shoulders, giving him an unhindered view of your breasts.

“My girl,” he hums, not taking his eyes off of you as he pops the button at the top of his pants and tugs down the zipper. “My pretty girl.”

“Yours,” you agree, butterflies mixing with arousal in your gut as you help him pull the restrictive fabric of his jeans and boxers down until they bunch around his ankles. His cock springs free, hard and leaking pre-cum down around the head.

You feel saliva pool in your mouth at the sight. As many times as you've had his impressive length inside you, you don't think it'll ever not make your mouth water.

You take the base of him in one hand, languidly pumping him as you lean forward, gathering all of the spit in your mouth and releasing it over the tip of his cock. You continue to stroke him, smearing the wetness down his length.

He groans, deep and guttural as he throws his head back against the seat. You can't see, but you know that his eyes have snapped shut at the pleasure.

When you've got him fully lubricated, you ease the tip of him into your mouth and swirl your tongue around his head. He brings a hand to the back of your head and pulls you forward, cramming more of himself into your mouth. You open wider to accommodate his length as it juts against the back of your throat.

“Fuck, honey,” he grunts when you pause to adjust to the stretch that you're feeling in your jaws. “You always take me so well. Never had anyone make me feel as good as you do.”

You moan around his dick at the praise, feeling your own arousal budding again in your lower belly. You pull back until only half of him is left inside your mouth, and then slowly begin to bob up and down, the tip of him repeatedly jabbing against the back of your throat. What little of his length that you can't take at one time, you continue to stroke in your hand. Your free hand comes to cup his balls, massaging them in rhythm with the thrusts of your mouth on his cock. You can feel tears begin to leak out of the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks from the lack of oxygen.

Right when you feel him begin to twitch against your tongue, he threads his fingers through your hair and yanks you off of him.

“You said you wanted to ride me until we both came, yeah?” He wraps his hands around the tops of your arms, pulling you upwards and onto his lap. You're too light headed to speak so you just nod quickly, adjusting your position across his lap. His cock is pressed against his lower stomach, lodged between the wet lips of your cunt and his happy trail.

“I want you to do just that.” He grabs you by the hips, pulling you forward along his shaft. You raise up on the balls of your feet as he takes himself in his fist, running his tip through your folds to lubricate himself with your juices before stopping at your hole. He juts his hips upwards at the same time that you sink down, causing the entirety of his length to be sheathed inside you at once.

“Oh my god,” you groan as you adjust to the sheer size of him. He always stretches you so painfully sweet. You steady yourself with your hands on his broad shoulders, realizing that he’s still in a two day old t-shirt. He reads your mind and yanks the fabric over his head. You take in the sight before you - all of the defined planes of his chest, his body hair that you love to run your fingers through when you’re riding him, that one vein that bulges on his bicep that you just want to trace with your tongue -

You raise up again, until he’s almost all the way out of you and only the head of his cock remains inside you before you sink back down all at once, earning an animalistic growl from him. You repeat the ministrations until you have acclimated to his size. You begin to increase your speed, the sound of your ass bouncing off of his thighs echoing around the limited space of the limosuine’s cab.

“So goddamn tight,” he spits through gritted teeth, one hand coming to plant a firm grasp on your asscheek. He digs his fingers into the meat with enough force to leave bruises but it only spurs on your movements. You liked it - the idea of being marked by him, even if it wasn’t something that anyone else would ever be able to see. “Always feel like you were made for me.”

You let out a pathetic whimper at his words, not knowing what to say or do to convey your emotions in that moment other than to lower your lips to his. He immediately opens his mouth to you, letting your tongue inside to merge with his. His taste was so comforting and familiar to you - tobacco and peppermint and something uniquely Logan. You didn’t think you’d find a flavor quite like it in anyone else, and you never wanted to test that theory.

“I was,” you whine breathlessly when you finally pull away. “Was made for you.”

He begins to meet your bounces with thrusts of his own, hitting the sweet spot of your cervix just right with each movement.

“Say it,” he grunts - you can tell he’s close by his movements growing erratic beneath you. “Wanna hear you say that you’re mine.”

You can feel your second orgasm building with every word that he says. He brings his free hand in between your bodies, finding your clit right away. He massages you with his thumb and you come around his cock with a cry of his name.

“I am,” you pant through your orgasm as he continues to thrust up into you. “I am yours, I’ve been yours, just yours.” Your admission sends him over the edge and he spills into you from below, both of his arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling your bare chest against his.

“You mean that?” he murmurs against the sweat-coated skin of your collarbone. You lean back enough to look down at him, cradling his jawline in the palm of your hand.

“I do,” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper. “But only if you’re mine, too,” you add with a small, nervous laugh.

“I've been yours since the day we met, princess. Just had a hard time believing you could want me in the same way.”

You snort a laugh at the confession that sounds so ridiculous to you, and then bring your lips to his once more to show him just how badly you absolutely do want to be his.

thanks for reading! comments and reblogs are always very appreciated 💕

other logan works by me: straight to my head • claw kink drabble • dog tag drabble

[powermakar]

Luke at the lake house with his gf!! Maybe like going swimming w him??

I'm Not Falling for That Trick - Luke Hughes

words: 652

Ah, the famous Hughes’ lake house. This is the second summer that you have been coming to the lake house. You were basically jumping up and down in your seat as you and Luke took the long drive from Ann Arbor. You planned the next six weeks down to the second as you didn’t want to waste any time with the rest of the Hughes family. 

When you finally get to the house you jump out of the car to go hug mama Hughes while Luke takes his good old time getting out of the car smiling to himself at your excitement. “Hi, Ellen! I am so excited to be here you have no idea!” you gush. 

“It's true, she couldn’t stop talking about it the whole drive” Luke laughs. 

“Well, I’m so happy that you guys are here! I’m going to go start on dinner so we don’t eat late tonight,” Ellen says. 

“Do you need any help? I’ll be more than happy to help,” you ask.

“No no, go have fun with the boys,” she says walking away. You just nod and pull Luke behind you while you search for the two older brothers. When you finally spot Jack and Quinn, you immediately launch yourself onto Jack's back. 

“Guess who it is!” you laugh, covering his eyes with your hands. 

“C’mon y/n I know it's you. You do this every time we see each other!” He says. 

“Well, you are no fun,” you say getting off of him and walking over to Quinn. ‘Hi Quinn, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” you say hugging him. It’s true, you haven’t seen the oldest Hughes brother in over 8 months. 

“I think I know what time it is,” Quinn says smirking. Luke and Jack just look at you with an evil look in their eyes. Well, this didn’t mean anything good so you took off running. 

“Come back here y/n!” Luke yells laughing. And curse them for being athletes and their ability to catch up to you without breaking a sweat. 

“Don’t you dare!” you say while Luke grabs both of your hands and Luke and Quinn each grab a leg. You try to squirm out of their grip when they walk to the dock. 

“1… 2… 3!” the brothers shout at the same time. On three you were launched into the lake. You decided to say underwater for a little longer than usual, just to scare them a little. 

Coming up from the water you say, “ow Luke I think I hurt my ankle”. 

“Y/n I’m not falling for that trick! Jack used to pull it all the time,” Luke says. 

“No Luke I think it’s actually sprained or something. Can you help me get out of the water? I don’t want to hurt it any more than it already is,” you groan, grabbing at your ankle. 

“Oh shit, you are actually hurt, here let me help you,” Luke says reaching out a hand. You grab onto it and pull with all you can. You can hear Luke let out a little shriek before he hits the water. “I can’t believe I actually fell for that,” he laughs. Jack and Quinn walk off talking about the next NHL season. 

You and Luke just swim in the lake and before you know it the sun is starting to set. “I love you y/n,” Luke says swimming over to you. 

“I love you too Luke,” you say latching on to him. 

As you both start to lean in you can hear Ellen yell “kids dinner is ready!” All you and Luke could do was laugh. “Well I guess we should go before my mom gets mad at us, but not before I do this” Luke says pulling you into a quick kiss before swimming off. You shake your head and head towards the dock as well.

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