#but like i am feeling so much i am this close to crying

[orangeblossomsintheair]

PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY | LN4

I can't find the sub!lando request this was for so.. anyway! if that was you, much love 💕

“oh- fuck- oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum!”

lando’s head slams back against the headboard, curls sticking to his damp forehead as his chest heaves with ragged breaths.

his hands clutch your hips, fingers trembling, desperate to slow you down, but you’re relentless, splitting yourself in half on his cock inch by excruciating inch.

“b-baby, please,” he stammers, his voice cracking as a sob escapes his throat.

“baby-fuck, baby, please,” he chokes out, his voice cracking as a sob escapes his throat. “please, slow down. i can’t-i can’t take it-”

you hum softly, your nails dragging over his chest, catching against his heaving ribs as you lean forward, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “you can take it, lando. you’re my good boy, aren’t you?”

his whole body trembles beneath you, his cock twitching inside your gummy walls, snug and squeezing him so tightly it feels like you’re pulling him apart piece by piece.

tears spill down his cheeks as he nods frantically, his voice breaking. “i am-I swear, baby, i’ll be good, just-fuck, it’s too much. you’re so-tight, so warm, it’s too much-”

you tilt your head, fingers sliding down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles as they tense under your touch.

“no, it’s perfect,” you whisper, rolling your hips and grinding your clit against his pelvis. the pressure sends a shockwave through you both, and you gasp softly, nails digging into his skin. “you’re perfect, lando. you’re exactly where you belong-deep inside my cunny, filling me up.”

his sob comes out ragged, his hands clutching your hips tighter as his cock jerks inside you.

“don’t say that,” he cries, his head falling forward, forehead pressing to your collarbone as his chest shakes with the force of his sobs. “fuck, don’t say that. i’m gonna come if you- god, baby, please-”

you laugh softly, a wicked, honeyed sound that makes his whole body tense. “but that’s what you want, isn’t it?” you murmur, tilting his chin up so his tear-filled eyes meet yours.

“you want to come for me. you want to give me everything, don’t you?”

“i do,” he sobs, nodding frantically as fresh tears spill down his cheeks. “i do, baby, but i can’t hold it- I wanna be good for you, but i can’t- fuck, i can’t-”

“can’t handle what, baby?” you murmur, lifting your hips, only to sink back down, taking him deeper. the wet sound of your movements fills the room, your clit dragging against the base of his cock as you bounce on him,

you lean in close, brushing your lips against his ear, your breath hot against his skin. “can’t handle how good it feels? can’t handle me taking everything from you?”

he sobs, his whole body shaking as his hips buck up involuntarily, pushing his throbbing cock deeper into the warm clutch of your cunt.

“yes- fuck, yes, it’s too much. i’m gonna- baby, i’m gonna come, please- please stop-”

but you don’t stop.

instead, you plant your hands on his chest and rolling your hips, bouncing on his lap in a rhythm that has his head snapping back, his mouth falling open in a choked cry.

“fuck-! oh god, oh god, shit! please, baby-” his words die in his throat, his hands sliding uselessly along your thighs as you grind against him, squeezing him tighter.

“lando,” you say softly, your voice cutting through his desperate whimpers. you cup his jaw, forcing his tear-streaked face to tilt up toward yours. “look at me, baby. keep your eyes on me.”

he obeys, barely, his glassy eyes meeting yours as tears spill freely down his cheeks. his lips tremble, his breath hitching with every bounce of your hips. “p-please, honey, let me-”

you shush him gently, your fingers tangling in his damp curls as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against his.

“yes, you can,” you whisper. “you’re so good for me, lando. so strong. you’re gonna hold it for me, aren’t you?”

he sobs, his hands clawing at your hips as his body jerks under you. “i’ll try- fuck, i’ll try, but-” his voice breaks into a strangled moan as you clench around him, your walls fluttering and milking his length in a way that has his thighs trembling beneath you.

“good boy,” you murmur, your nails raking lightly down his chest as you pick up the pace, bouncing harder now, the wet sound of your movements filling the room. “you’re so good for me, lando. so perfect, letting me take what i need.”

his head shakes weakly, fresh tears spilling from his eyes as his whole body fights against the tidal wave threatening to crash over him.

“i’m gonna come,” he chokes out, his voice wrecked, holding you so tightly you’re sure there’ll be bruises. “fuck, baby, i can’t- i can’t- please, stop, stop-”

“you don’t want me to stop,” you say, grinding down on him and he can feel the tip of his cock brush against something so soft he sobs. “you want to come for me, don’t you, lando? you want to be good for me?”

he nods frantically, his head dropping to your shoulder as a broken sob tears from his throat. “yes- fuck, yes, i want to be good. i want to-”

you press a kiss to his temple, your movements growing more deliberate, the squeeze of your walls around him making his eyes roll back.

“then give it to me,” you whisper. “come for me, lando. i want to feel you fall apart.”

he shatters at your permission, mouth falling open in a silent scream as his cock jerks violently inside you, and you feel the hot rush of his release spilling deep, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim and leaking around the base of him.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” he chokes out, his voice breaking as sobs wrack his chest. “i couldn’t- fuck, i couldn’t hold it. i’m so fucking weak-”

“shh,” you soothe, running your fingers through his curls as you slow your movements, letting him ride out the aftershocks. “you did so well for me, lando. you were so good.”

he clings to you, his face buried in your neck as tears dampen your skin. his breaths are shaky, his body trembling as he tries to recover.

“please,” he whispers hoarsely, his voice cracking with desperation. “please, tell me i was enough. tell me you’re not mad..”

you cup his face, tilting his head up so he can see the warmth in your eyes. “you’re more than enough, baby,” you say softly. “you’re perfect. but i’m not done with you yet.”

his eyes widen, another tear slipping down his flushed cheek.

“one more,” you murmur, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. “just one more, lando. i know you can give me one more.”

he nods weakly, his hands trembling as they find your hips again. “o-one more..”

[sinstear]

it’s just soft fluffy, angsty just a little riding with vi <33

“fuck,” vi moans as your fingers tugged on her hair, pull her head back and kisses up and down her throat. “just like that,” she nods, biting down on her lip. “just like that, baby.”

“you’re so pretty,” you murmured into her skin, slowly grinding your hips up, sinking your cock deeper into her pussy. your blunt nails dig into the skin on her back and she hummed at her whimper. “so fucking pretty, baby.”

“you feel so good,” vi shakily gasps, holds you closer to her and bounces on your cock faster, her hips moving rhythmically with your thrusts.

vi cries out, holds you tighter when you’re pressing your hand against her stomach, and you grinned. “you feel it, baby? feel how deep i am?” you asked, nipping and biting at her jaw.

“yes, yes, feels so good.” she moans and cups the back of your head. the damp skin of your neck melts against her skin like melted ice cream and her blunt nails sink in; crescent moons littering.

your hands run up and down her back slowly, your teeth nipped harder at the skin of her jaw and vi’s head falls back with another string of moans, “you don’t understand how perfect you are,” you murmured again, tugging at her hair. “you’ve been through so much, and you’re still here, and i’m glad you are because i wouldn’t know what i would do without you, pretty girl.”

burying her face in the crook of your neck, violet sighs softly into your skin, shyly smiles and let's you guide the movements of her hips. “you’re the only good thing i have, the one person i haven’t broke.”

shaking your head, you stroked her cheek slowly and wrapped your arms around her waist as you leaned back against the pillows, stilling her hips completely. “that’s a lie, you haven’t broke anything, with anyone, and no matter how hard things might be or feel, m’always here to guide you and keep you safe, you don’t have to be strong all the time, i can be strong enough for the both of us.” you whispered into her hairline.

“can’t ask you to do that—” a moan rips through her throat, nails scraping up and down your shoulders when you’re thrusting your hips up, sliding the cock deeper and deeper into her cunt with each movement. “oh fuck,” she whimpered, the droplets of tears running down her cheek.

“you crying, baby?” you asked, fucking up into her slowly, and holding her tighter against you.

“i just love you,” vi laughed and kissed your collarbone lightly. “and you feel so good right now, please don’t stop.”

“you deserve this, you deserve everything.”

“i have you, and that’s enough for me.”

for a while, vi just looks down at you, watches you closely, watches the way your eyebrows pinch forward into a frown as you focus on your current task and the way your lips form into an involuntary pout has her smiling. her mind is hazy, your fingers rub slow circles on her clit, slowly dragging her back and forth with your free hand on your cock, practically doing everything for her. “m’gonna cum,” she mumbled against your forehead breathlessly; your skin is layered with a thin sheet of sweat and it melts against her lips. “you’re gonna make me cum.” she laughed again.

“yeah?” you peered up at her, eyelashes fluttering against your skin when she cups your face, ghosts her lips over yours and nods slowly. your skin tingles at the feeling of her fingers dancing against your jaw, and you smile when her breathing gets heavier, hips moving frantically, fucking herself down on your cock. “want you to cum,” you kissed her chin and held onto her tighter once more.

vi’s hand quickly reaches down and grabs your wrist in her hold, trembling and gasping above you, but you don’t stop your ministrations on her clit, or the way you slowly move your hips and fuck up into her. the thick veins of the cock rubbing deliciously against her walls. “baby,” she choked out, subconsciously trying to grind against your fingers.

“i know, it’s okay,” you reassured and removed your hand from her hip to cup the back of her head; where her lips parted against yours and she whimpered. “m’right here.”

“i need to cum.”

“whenever you want.”

when you went to rest your hand on her leg, vi was quick to grab it and shyly place it on her throat. “baby—”

“please?”

her lips parted with a gasp when your hand wrapped around her throat fully and squeezed lightly. her eyes, ones that were glossy, fluttered closed and she whined pathetically. “there you go,” you smiled.

vi’s body tenses suddenly seconds later and croaks out a whimper when you pull her closer by her neck, lips parting against yours with a loud moan as her walls flutter, eyes roll back and she cums on your cock.

holding onto your shoulders tightly, her body slumps into you when you gently remove your hand from her throat and re-wrap your arms around her body, holding her protectively. “i got you,” you mumbled into her damp hair. “you did so good, my beautiful girl.”

“i love you.” her voice barely a whisper as her eyes flutter closed.

“i love you more, but you can’t fall asleep yet, ill run you a bath, okay?”

“five minutes.”

“fine, five minutes and then i’m carrying you to the bathroom.”

[icarusredwings]

Obedient demons, devlish Angels.

Wade is so bad at his job he almost starves to death. And Logan is so bad at his, that he makes sure He dosn't.

Tw: depiction of rejection sensitivity, vauge sex, open/closed relationship dynamics, sick/ill demons, "eating" problems, what the title says.

@nuggetpool-hi

No one:

Wade, rubbing up against Logan like a cat: Plllleeeeaaasseee?? Pretty please? I'm staaarrvvinngg Loagie!

Logan, sitting in a chair reviewing the bible: You just ate yesterday; Wade. You aren't starving...

Wade: Yes, I am! You left me here to go spend the night with kurt so Im hungry! Honest! Please?? I'll be quick! You won't even know im down there-

Logan: Enough! I'm tired of this. Stop. Every time I come back, all you wanna do is have sex and I know you kinda have too but I dont want to! Do you ever think about that? Do you ever stop and wonder if I even want to?!

Wade, backing away, tail tucked: ......i-.. I do all the time...

Logan: Apprently not because I already said no! And you just keep-.....

Wade: *anxiously picking at his nails, head down and clearly ashamed to just exist* ....sorry...

Logan: No... Wait- Wade no... I didnt-

Wade, already crying, streaks of red coming down his neck and cheeks: n-no.. Its okay.. i-I wont ask anymore..

Logan: *sighs* I didn't mean it like that... Im just.. frustrated...

Wade, hurt, tears falling: I-its fine.. really. I Just..y-youre so nice to me when-.. when we do it and..and..

Logan, getting up: *reaches out a hand* No, Wade, I didn't mean to- You dont have to find someone else. Ill do it, Just.. just gimme a second okay?

Wade, shaking his head, backing up: No.. I-i wont ask anymore. It's fine.. dont worry about it..

Logan, watching Wade lay down and curl up on his side of the bed, now feeling terrible: ...so... y-you aren't hungry anymore..? Or.. cause we can! I dont mind Its just... *another sigh* Look. Wade.. I don't want you to be hungry..

Wade, whispering: I'll be okay...

Logan then puts his stuff away, trying to pull Wade close. He's squirming, trying to shy away but Logan forces him to stay in his chest, kissing his forehead and softly apologizing. Wade's bloody face heightens Logans primal angelic insticts, fighting the adrenaline rush of battle to keep his touches gentle, rubbing his back with slit yellow eyes. Being a warrior of the lord was difficult when demon bloods scent alone activated the strong desire to overcome evil, esspecially when the one in your arms isn't evil at all, just forever hungry.

*The next day*

Logan: Waade. Im back! Let me eat real quick and ill feed ya.

Wade: *streatches and yawns* Mmh Nah.

Logan: Nah? But yesterday you were whining about how hungry you were.

Wade: Im not hungry anymore. Got some pathetic sap in the chapel.

Logan:...... you..got someone else?;

Wade, non sarcastically, if anything simply explaining: Yeah. Thought you were getting tired of feeding me so.. you know. Besides. Gotta keep the sinners coming back right? Heh heh."

Logan: .....Yeah.... yeah.. thats fine.. thats.... who was it?

Wade: i...I dont know? Just some guy. Fuck, Angel, If I didnt know any better Id say you're acting.... jealous~"

Logan, biting his tounge: No! I just dont-...nevermind..

Wade: You don't like what?

Logan, thinking, his chest tight: I... I don't like you feeding on others.

Wade, gasping: Really!?

Logan: B-but its not like that!! I-i just mean- what kind of an angel would I be if i let a demon feed on the innocent?

Wade, now giggling: Ohh yeaahh suuuree

Logan, finally coming to lay down: Im serious!! You might accidently drain them too much and then what would that make me? A terrible protector. Thats what.

Wade, now pulling his face close, holding his cheeks lovingly: D'aaaaaww~ Loagie baby dosn't want me sleeping around on him? My big brave strong angel boy wants this demon ass all to himself? Hm??

Logan, blushing: No!! I didn't say that! Im just doing my duty as an angel to protect citizens and-

Wade is smirking: Oh yes, your civil duty of fucking a succubus every day, right? Liks you Sooo dont love my tight ass? Hm? And when I nip your balls or when-

Logan, completly red: ENOUGH! ..S-shut up..

This bickering and banter goes on for a while longer before they end up cuddling and falling asleep in each others arms. Wade feels loved in an emotional sense, it feels much better then the other 'love' he got ealier.

*the next x 7 days*

Logan: Hey Wade. Service ended early today and Kurt has a meeting. So im all yours. What do you w-.... Wade? Are you alright?

Wade, weak, curled up inside of the blanket: ....

Logan: Wade?? Come on, don't trick me. Whats wrong? *puts his hand on his forehead. He has a fever but he's shaking. Or was he just hot cause hes a demon? Either way, hes too warm for Logan's liking.* Do demons get sick?

Wade, clinging to his hand with his own, desperate for attention and affection: .. Please..

Logan: Please what? What do you need?

Wade, whos clamy, breathing uneven, and who is now whimpering: N-nothin... i-im fine.

Logan: Wade... tell me whats wrong.

Wade, shaking his head: N-no...I-i dont want to ask anymore..

Logan, finally getting it, realizing that this last week has been all cuddles. He hasn't fed Wade in an entire week: Come on. Get up, Ill-

Wade, whining as if it hurts to talk: I can't..

Logan, now worrying: Y-you cant get up? Oohh.... fuck wade!! Why didn't you say anything!? When I said I didn't want too at that moment I didn't mean starve yourself to death!! Shit!.. okay.. uhm..

Wade, tearing up, silent and holding his hand, logan is squeezing it: ...Im sorry... i-i didnt want to make you upset...

Logan, panicking: Why didn't you just-?!

Its now Logan remembers telling Wade he isn't allowed to feed on the church goers or clergy anymore. He feels terrible.

Logan: You... you listened.. you obeyed an angel?

Wade, eyes closed, trying to ignore his pain: Only my angel...

Logan, smiling, feeling himself tear up. One drops onto Wade.

Wade, whining because angel tears are holy water: OWCH!! W-whhhy??

Logan: Sorry! Sorry I just.. *wipes eyes* Im going to fix this. I promise. Can I fix it? Please?

Wade: If youre asking consent to fuck me then Yes.

And so Logan does. Connecting their foreheads, their tears softly mixing into a slight diluted sting each time they touched one another, kissing like it was the end of the world, the passion and adjustments Logan had is slow. Tender. And passionate. The kind you only really gave to a loyal lover who you've just returned to. A farmilar feeling of home and satisfaction feeding Wade back to health. They must have fucked at least three times that night because in the morning Wade was springy as ever, like a spring chicken being put into a new pasture, the old tired cock trailing behind just happy that the hen was healthy again.

[danikamariewrites]

You’re Home Now

Azriel x reader

Note: Due to popular demand here is part 2 to Stalker! I hope you guys like it 🫶🏻

Warnings: dark!Az, stalking, memory wiping

The sound of you stirring in bed pulls Azriel from his thoughts. Rushing to crouch next to you Azriel gently runs his fingers through your hair.

You blink at him in confusion. Still waking up you think this couldn’t possibly be real.

It can’t be real. You can’t be here.

Azriel was just a dream. Someone you only admired from afar.

Panic floods your chest. Curling in on yourself tears burn at your eyes.

“Hey now,” Azriel coos at you. “Don’t cry baby.” His rough thumb wipes at your lone tear. “This isn’t happening,” you whisper harshly.

Azriel shakes his head. Those beautiful hazel eyes never breaking from yours. “Why would you say that?” Your response catches in your throat. You're still processing where the hell you are.

Realization hits you full force. Scrambling from bed you start to hyperventilate. “Y/n, everything is ok.” Your name on his tongue feels right and chilling all at once. You shake your head vehemently at Azriel.

“No, no this can’t… I can’t,” you breathe out panicked. Azriel slowly moves toward, his hands up to show you he’s not a threat.

Before you can run Azriel’s chest takes up your vision. He pulls you close, peppering kisses to the top of your head. “Sshh, it’s ok baby. Everything’s ok.”

Everything in you is screaming to pull away. To fight and scream and run away.

Azriel’s touch calmed you. Making all of those thoughts melt away. It’s wrong though.

You push at Azriel with all your strength. “No!” Throwing your back against the wall you try to make your way to the door. Azriel tried to stay calm though the anger radiating from him was palpable. “Y/n,” he says sternly. “Don’t. Or you’ll force me to do something I don’t want to.”

Ignoring his warning you bolt for the door. Azriel is faster than you, grabbing you around the waist you struggle against him. He pulls you flush to his chest, his vice-like grip never faltering against your squirming.

Before you can scream the door flies open, revealing the high lord. His presence has a pit forming in your stomach. “Please,” you whisper.

Rhysand looks above you. His eyes glazed over, dark power dripping from him, filling the room so much you feel like the walls are closing in on you. You hear his dark voice echoing in your mind. Sleep, he commands.

You don’t fight the command. Your eyes close, falling back into a deep sleep.

Azriel gently lays you back in bed for a fourth time. “Leave the memories of me this time,” he tells Rhys. The High Lord of Night nods, inching closer to your bedside.

Rhys gives your sleeping form an approving smirk. Azriel fusses over you, pulling the covers up. “What,” Azriel growls lowly.

“She’s quite something, brother. And your mate? Lucky you.” Rhys croons. Azriel glares at his brother with the protectiveness of the mating bond raging in his eyes. Rhys gives him a wicked smirk as he makes his way out of the bedroom. “Let me know if you need me again.”

Hours later you’re still fast asleep, only stirring to move closer to Azriel’s warmth. He cups the side of your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. You tiredly blink at him, again.

“Az?” You murmur. He smiles at you, the bond in his chest warming him. “Hi baby.” He lightly pulls your face to him, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“How am I…how am I with you?”

Azriel presses another kiss to your forehead. “You were in danger last night so I brought you here, baby.” Realizing his mistakes Azriel wanted to ensure he had an excuse for you to wrap that pretty little head around before you try to run again.

You snuggle closer to his chest. Wrapping your arms around Azriel he pulls you to lay on top of him. “I don’t remember what happened.” Your words come out shy.

“That’s ok, baby. All that matters is that you’re safe with me now.” Azriel pulls on the bond to try and force you to feel it. He’s been pulling on it since he first brought you to the House of Wind.

A small gasp escapes your lips at the sharp feeling in your chest. You cling to him tighter.

“Azriel,” you look up at him with those doe eyes he can’t resist. Azriel’s heart skips a beat at seeing them up close. The small flecks of color, the need for him shining in your eyes was almost too much for him. Mother above, he doesn’t know why he waited so long to bring you home. He’s been depriving himself of something wonderful.

“Mates, really?” You ask with hope. Azriel nods, “Yes, baby. You’re mine.”

You two lay together until morning. Being in Azriel’s embrace feels safe and feels right. Like you’ve been with him forever.

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

LOL jumping right back into the ocean of feels! 😬

I won't get my hopes up. I will be just as devastated now as when I find out that he is gone for good. 😭

Aww stay strong, my friend!! 💪🏽

Also I love that you said her mother refused to "entertain anything else" because Dean's job description is literally "anything else" lol. And it really is a wonderful thing (not wonderful like good but you know what I mean) that Dean and the reader can further connect on. Her knowing what Dean really did for a living and him being brave enough to risk his life on the possibility of "a chance."

Lol quite literally "anything else." 😆 Yeah the reader formed a connection with John through reading his journal entries, and now she can better understand Dean and connect with him too. 💞💞

I think Dean would've risked his life to gank the evil thing regardless, but definitely willing to do it for her, even if he finds her dad or not. 💔

It's too late for that kind of talk sexy mountain man. You're stuck with her and she is not going to let you go that easy.

LMAO this took me out. It's very much too late for that -- she's not letting him go for anything now. 😝

Am I trying to hide my emotions over Dean going into the wilderness alone to face a wendigo with humor? Yes, yes I am.

ehehehe 😜

It's a whole vibe 🍞 Side note: I did have to look up what nesting was in the A/B/O universe, but that is so cute. 😭

Ahaha I love GBBO so it got a special mention. (Also me going, how the hell is she gonna pass time for a full week? 😂)

Aww yes, nesting is so cute isn't it? Even if she had nested in Dean's room, compelled by her anxiety, I think it would've melted his surly heart loll.

Oh goodness, yes it was a bad idea and I am so happy that Dean showed up when he did, because my anxiety for this reader was THROUGH THE ROOF. I mean yes, go get your man, but gurl please it's snowing and you've got a broken ankle. At least catch a bear or something to pull you on a sleigh lol. 🤣

SUCH a bad idea loll. I had to have Dean intervene there. Exactly like, go get your man, but not on a broken ankle, hun. 🤣 "Catch a bear" -- I'm deceased. I think she's pretty much done with bears from now on! LOL 🐻

See this is why I don't get my hopes up because OH MY SWEET GOODNESS I'M CRYING 😭 But at least Dean is there now to wipe away her tears. AND my tears will soon be dried with the fires of their passion so... LOL 😂

bby we're all crying, but like you said, at least Dean's there to pick you up (and warm you up). 😏❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

See I feel better already 🥰

Oh good! lol that's what I was hoping for.~~

This is such a wonderful comparison to what it's like being around him for the reader. It holds the warmth and the feeling of home whenever you read it. I love it.

Honestly that description reminded me of the way you write the reader in Take a Chance, giving very human and specific details to her background and whenever she talked to Ben about her past -- so I'm very glad you enjoyed that part. 💕

And also you know how much I love the continuing idea of Dean thinking that he's not enough and that the reader would never like him. I know that I always point it out when I read something of yours, but it really always fits him and you write it so well my friend 💚

Aw thank you so much!! It seems I always come back to that in my Dean fics! I think subconsciously I'm trying to beat that mentality out of him with every story. 🤣 But also, I think his self-worth (or lack thereof) and his fear of being a danger to the people he loves are just key points of his character that you kind of have to deal with -- at least in the canon SPN world, whenever Dean gets close to being in a serious relationship with someone. 🥲❤️‍🩹

I also love this bit, because Dean reduces himself to physical wealth here rather than seeing all the wonderful qualities of himself that we all love being something that he can give the reader. It really makes their connection all the more loving and real, because the reader isn't asking for Dean to give her things or to be rich, she's just asking FOR Dean. And I think it will be a beautiful and wonderful thing when he realizes that.

In Dean's pov it's like, "I don't have a 'normal' house, I don't have a normal job, all I've got is my car and emotional baggage that I don't want to unload on someone else--especially someone outside of the Job." But she doesn't need him to have "normal" things. He literally saved her life and is meant to be hers. To her, the quality of who he is and the connection of being true mates is more important, and the rest they'll figure out together. 💞 Here's hoping Dean can realize that soon...

This chapter was so wonderful Alex! I loved every heart wrenching bit and I can't wait to read the next one my wonderful friend! ❤️

Aw thank you so much, my friend!! 🥰 I'm so happy that you're enjoying the mini rollercoaster of this story, and I truly hope you enjoy the grand finale too!! 💖💖

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases. 

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.” 

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself. 

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father. 

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes. 

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it. 

Wendigo. 

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say. 

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin. 

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside. 

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back. 

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser. 

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either. 

But you’ll have to try. 

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive. 

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt. 

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says. 

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door. 

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes. 

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. 

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place. 

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure. 

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss. 

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.  

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair. 

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion. 

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer. 

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance. 

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”  

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin. 

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands. 

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin. 

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.” 

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free. 

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

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[grimmweepers]

— ☆ contents: dealing with dragon!form zhongli who possesses cat-like behaviours. human reader. dragon husband. sfw. fluff. established relationship. might be a little ooc. this is very unserious. 0.6k. | masterlist (i’m a dark content blog so mdni).

Dragon!Zhongli who acts much like an affectionate housecat despite his towering size and the magnitude of his status.

He, who is so comfortable around his human partner that he isn't afraid to bear his dragon form day-to-day, lest his cat-like behaviours (endearing as they are) go unnoticed.

Every time you run your fingers through the silk of his dark locks or scratch at the base of his horns, that's when it starts. A deep, soothing vibration beneath his scaled chest. The low rumble is almost hypnotic as his amber eyes drift closed, lulling him (and yourself) into a state of ease. If you remain watchful, you'll catch the corners of his lips curl ever-so-slightly upwards.

You can’t help but giggle because you know it’s not quite purring, but it might as well be.

Dragon!Zhongli whose tail is as much part of his personality as his deep voice and eloquent spiels. First and foremost, that thing is unapologetically heavy. When he’s in a good mood, it swishes around lazily, thumping against the furniture or brushing against your legs as he walks by.

Once it knocked over an entire stack of books and while you were busy laughing, he just sighed and said, “An unfortunate accident.” But if he’s feeling especially affectionate? Even worse. That's when you really have to watch out. It possessively curls around you and suddenly you’re dealing with the weight of a solid tail pulling you closer to him. You’ve almost toppled over a few times because of it.

“Careful, Zhongli,” you’ll tell him. “You might end up sweeping me off my feet.” Then he chuckles at you, tail tightening around your waist just a smidge.

That’s the idea, of course.

Dragon!Zhongli who feigns annoyance every time you act on your favourite habit: lifting his lips to inspect his fangs.

They’re a far cry from the tiny, delicate teeth of a cat, which is the only other creature you’ve subjected to this odd little inspection but that makes them even more fascinating.

"Must you do this every time?" he asks, lips pulling back just enough for you to admire them. They were sharp, pristine, and unsettlingly perfect. Enough to crack a bone with a single snap of his jaw but it was the same mouth he kissed you with. You never got used it.

"I'm lucky you’ve never nicked me with these," you’ll tease, brushing your finger along the largest fang.

Zhongli's responses are always the same: a long exhale as if you've just asked him to recite every contract he's ever known (which he could btw), followed by, “You’re enamoured with the oddest things.” But he lets you do it anyway. His words begin lose a bit of their weight when his tail slowly starts swaying behind him, exposing that he’s enjoying it more than he lets on.

And no one will ever believe you when you tell them how he is when he's feeling playful. It's a rarity but he'll nudge you gently with his horns as a display of affection and if you don't respond right away, he'll flick his tail at you. Not hard but enough for you to look his way.

Pay attention to me, it seems to say.

It’s mischievous, even if for a moment. Then you’ll catch a glint in his eye while he pretends to be all composed, but truly, he finds it amusing how he easily this form could be used as a weapon against you when he warrants his own needs.

The mighty dragon, who can command the earth itself, is stripped of his grandeur when you're around, replaced by a creature who wants nothing more than to be with you in the simplest way. And if you mention it, he’ll give you that look of half exasperation and half fondness before pulling you closer and acting like it’s purely your fault he’s such a softie with you.

a/n: if it wasn’t obvious already, i am a cat person (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

[wholoveseggs]

I am currently dealing with my mother being in end care hospice for Alzheimer’s, dreading every time my phone makes a noise because it could be the worst news. I am spending my time either sobbing or a complete zombie with a barely functional brain. (I put a spray bottle in the freezer instead of the drink I was chilling). I live alone and have no close friends or family near me and I just wish I had an Elijah to hold me. I just wish I could lay on top of him in bed, him holding me and petting my hair while I cry.

I totally understand if this is not something you’re comfortable writing, but if you are, I’d really appreciate it. If nothing else, I thank you for reading my message.

Anchor

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} Grief threatens to overwhelm you, but Elijah's calming presence becomes your anchor, reminding you that even in your darkest hours, you are not alone.

♡♡ I love you, anon, and I’m so incredibly sorry that you’re going through this. My heart aches for you, and I hope that this fic can offer you even the smallest moment of comfort. You are not alone, and I’m sending you so much love and strength~ ♡♡

672 words - Warnings: angst, grief, comfort & cuddles

When you are a child, your parents are this big, strong figure. They seem invincible and all-knowing. But then you grow up. And one day, you realize that your parents aren't superman. They aren't invincible and they certainly aren't infallible. Your parents, the same people who were your entire world as a kid, are suddenly human. And sometimes, humans get sick.

Everyone reacts differently, and there's no right or wrong way to feel. There's no road map or set of instructions on how to mourn. You can be angry, or sad, or numb, or all three at the same time. It's a roller coaster, a freefall, and you never know when the next wave of emotions will hit. It's okay to feel what you feel. It's okay to want to hide. And it's also okay to want to be with someone, to have someone to lean on.

You can't change the fact that your parents got sick, and you can't change the outcome. The limbo of losing them while they are still alive is a terrible feeling, like an emotional purgatory. All you can do is focus on yourself, and remember that the pain will pass, eventually.

It was one of those nights when the weight of the world felt unbearable, crushing your chest and making it hard to breathe. You sat curled up on your couch, terrified to look at your phone, waiting for a call you dreaded yet knew was inevitable.

You didn’t notice Elijah’s presence at first. It wasn’t unusual for him to move like a shadow, quiet and gentle, especially when he knew you were hurting. He stood in the doorway for a moment, his dark eyes full of concern, before approaching you with the kind of care only he could manage.

"My love," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. He knelt in front of you, resting his hand on your knee. "You needn't face this alone."

His words broke something inside you. The dam of composure you tried so desperately to maintain crumbled, and the tears you’d been holding back poured out in waves. Elijah didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as your sobs wracked your body.

He carried you to your bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and coaxing you to lay on top of him. His arms wrapped securely around you, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back while the other ran through your hair with a tenderness that brought fresh tears to your eyes.

"You’re allowed to grieve," he murmured against your temple. "You’re allowed to feel lost, to feel overwhelmed. But know that I am here. You do not have to carry this burden on your own."

You clung to him like a lifeline, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as though letting go would send you spiraling into the abyss.

"I feel like I’m breaking, Elijah," you choked out. "I don’t know how to do this."

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "You don’t have to be okay right now. You’re enduring something no one should have to endure alone. But you are stronger than you realize, and I will hold you through every moment of doubt and despair."

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and though the pain didn’t vanish, the sharp edges dulled ever so slightly. His steady heartbeat beneath your ear became an anchor, a reminder that even in your darkest hours, you had someone who cared deeply for you.

As your breathing evened out and the tears subsided, Elijah continued to stroke your hair, whispering soft reassurances. His presence didn’t fix everything. It couldn’t. But it made the unbearable seem just a little more manageable.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you closed your eyes and let yourself rest, knowing that Elijah would be there, steadfast and unyielding, for as long as you needed him.

[milkwaydreams]

My conclusion after EP 13 for Perfect 10 Liners is: I LOVE FAIFA! 😍

He is so F extra, I really love him 🤣 And the way Junior portrays him is so cute, I have no idea how many times I said "I love Faifa" during this whole episode 🤣🤭 I'm really curious to know more about him and his traumas. I feel he tries to be friend of everyone and help them either because he himself don't wanna feel lonely or abandoned again, or don't want the others to feel lonely like he did. I really don't know but I'm dying to learn about it 🤔 Hope I continue to like him in his story please 😃🤣

Also, I love how EVERYONE in that class began to mock Yotha and Gun when they began the whole tie scene right there in the front. If you look at the extras, even them are making the "Do my tie" gesture and I quacked when I noticed that🤣🤣 The friendship mockery on this whole series is my favorite part, help 🤣🤣

AND THE WAY GUN HIDES BEHIND FAIFA IS SO CUTE. He feels safe with Faifa, he goes to him and opens up, breaks down crying in front of Fai, that's what I call trust and I love it. Also Fai protecting Gun from Yotha cause he don't want Yotha to hurt Gun anymore... I love him... I can't, that's too sweet 😭😭😭

And Junior showing that he can indeed act serious too and not just goofy, ooh, I love to see that🤭🤭🤭

About Warit and Klao, really can't talk on their matter cause, it just hits too close to home... I've been in the EXACT SAME situation as Warit and my way out of it was shitty af so, I don't even know how to react to watching what happened to me as a viewer cause I'll always lean more for Warit cause I FULLY understand him...

So I'm just gonna talk about the slap. I'm SURE that that slap hurt 100% more than any of the punches Klao took the whole episode. I vocalized a loud "OH SHIT" the moment I heard the sound. And I liked that Warit did that cause it was effective in a way that talking at that moment wouldn't be as Klao was completely out so the slap was like a reboot in the system 🤣🤣🤣 I think things will begin to move forward to them now cause they actually talked about it, Warit expressed how he actually feels about Yotha so, it should work from now (I HOPE, PLEASE 😃)

And then, Santa crying... OMG, THAT WAS GOOD SCENES. It sounds sad saying it like this but I swear I mean good🤣🤣

I was/am impressed at the way he cries cause he KNOWS how to cry. The way his voice shakes when he speaks, his whole body flinching, I don't know if I'm the only one that felt this but I was genuinely impressed. If you tell me that he was crying for real and not acting there, I'd fully believe you 😭😭😭😭

And let me tell you, I went 😮 when Yotha kissed Warit like... I was not expecting it😃 First of all, "OMG, PERTHBOOM" that was my stupid head first thought😃🤣🤣 Then I went "Noo, don't do this to me... Don't make he still like Warit..." and I KNEW GUN WAS GONNA SEE THAT, OFC HE WOULD😃😃

But please... My baby is pretty and looks good even crying but... Let's not make him cry this much anymore, please 😃😃😃 SPARE MY POOR HEART😭😭😭😭

And the preview... I'm scared actually. Wait for him why?! Why Yotha?! Wait what?! What do you mean?! Come back here and explain right now 😃 And now we will get the beach YothaGun scenes from the trailer so, that plus the "Wait for me" made me really go "???????"

Ahh... These series... Why can't they just be released all together so I binge everything and be happy?! 😃😃😃

+ I have too much of rot in my brain cause in the bar scene, Lykn's May I? plays in the background and all I could pay attention to was the song and that it was Lykn... I need rehab from them atp, this is an addiction 😃😃🤣🤣🤣🤣

[reverieblondie]

As someone who will just start tearing up if someone raises their voice at me while they're angry (even if it's not at me), I can't help but wonder how Rolan would react to falling for someone like that.

A/N: Thank you for this request! So I some drabbles similar to this here so if your interested check it out! But I'm always willing to write more for Rolan so I hope you enjoy!

He can't believe you're actually trying to talk to him, the udder nerve after what you caused.

Asking about his family! Rolan feels like he could burst at any moment, you daring to udder Cal and Lias' names.

"They are my responsibility!" He snaps bitterly, his voice rising to a yell.

Rolan then sees a flicker of something change in your expression—true remorse. It's in your eyes; he can see it steadily rising as you stare at each other. Finally, you break, first darting your eyes to the floor.

"I... I am so sorry... I won't rest till they come back." Rolan Catches the tremble in your voice. And there's an aching twist in his chest before he scoffs it off.

"Save it... just... leave me alone...." 

Without another word, he hears you step away; Rolan chugs down the last of his drink as the wobble in your voice echoes in his ears. 

It's hard to breathe, hard to see, and hell, with every step, it gets harder to even move.

Rolan can feel that not only is he drained of magic, but he's also drained of energy.

Protect them, watch over them, your family too... Those words told to him so long ago are what keep him going forward, holding tight onto his torch in a knuckle-paling grip. He has to find them, he has to... they are all he has left! His family!

As the panic in his chest swells, adrenaline gives him energy back to his limbs. Rolan begins to run through the shadows blindly, his eyes set forward, and he ignores everything around him. That desperation causes his misstep, forcing him to the ground instantly. Sitting up with a hiss, he quickly remembers where he is scrambling for his torch. As soon as he has it back in his grasp, he sees the inky, wet shadow demons slivering at his heels.

Managing to pull some energy, he thunderwaves the creature back before scrambling to his feet. Standing, he sees his surroundings—and out of everything. Rolan's fist tightens as he looks at what he's sure is his fate. 

He will fight, but he knows his body will be unrecognizable after this land gets a hold of his corpse. He gritted his teeth... that will probably be best... He doesn't want Cal and Lia seeing him that way. He suddenly thinks of your words, face... your smile at the party.....

Please let her save them and do what he shamefully could not.

Once cornered with nowhere to go, he closes his eyes... It's over... it's done.....

'Rolan!"

The sound of his name forces his eyes to see you, your face one of panic as it's locked on him... Your hands tremble with sparks of fire as the shadows melt before him... You're here… You found him, saved him... always having to be saved... 

Rolan grimaces as you run to him, your voice a blur behind his racing thoughts... then when it's all too much, it bursts out of him.

"Damn it all!" he snaps in your face, "Out of all the people, it's you saving me! Can I do nothing!" Rolan throws his hands in his hair, tugging on his hair till it's loosening.

How did you even find me?" Rolan growls again. His eyes meet yours, and the rest of his tantrum dies in his throat.

Tears rush from your eyes over your flushed cheeks, your breath hiccuping as you try to speak, "I-I am... sorry... pl- please don't yell Ro-Rolan... I was so...scared... you were g-gone!"

Rolan's eyes flick from you to your party. He's in shock that you're crying, but they act like this is common! You're supposed to be a hero, but you're crying!

He's making you cry! Instinctively, Rolan reaches for it, but he pauses before he can touch your skin. You're balling, and he's the one who feels helpless. 

Rolan sighs a standing breath as he clenches his fists out to his sides. "Please, stop crying." His head hangs lower, and he brings his hands to his face. "Please... I won't yell; just please stop."

His sensitive ears hear you steading and swallowing down your tears. Finally, he peaks back up to your puffy tear-stained face... Rolan's chest aches at the helpless sight of you. With another sigh, he relents to you," Fine... I will go back... I know when I've been bested. Wipe away your tears." 

Sniffling and stuttering, you finally speak again. "I will find them."

Rolan looks over you; somehow, despite how you look, he knows you will... "Please do..."

Everyone is in uproar as they reunite. Rolan pushes through the crowd, looking frantic. When he finally sees Cal and Lia, he wraps his arms around them both in the tightest hug he can manage. The moment is a refreshing wave of relief before suddenly he pushes himself back.

"What the hell, you ass! What were you thinking!" He yelled at them, letting all his pent-up emotions free.

"We were kidnapped by crazy cultists!" Lia challenges, of course, and they start to bicker, but Cal is wrapping them before it can get to a fever pitch. All in a hug once more.

"We are all here and safe... that's all that matters." Rolan and Lia stay quiet. He's right. They are safe and together…

"How could we ever thank her..." Lia says as she looks out from the embrace, Rolan looks over to see you smiling at it all. He feels his cheeks redden, and before he knows it, he's marching over to you.

"Hey!" he says a bit louder and harsher than intended. As soon as that reaches you, your eyes water. Rolan pauses with a gulp. Bloody hells, he doesn't want you to cry again! Your eyes are so full of tears, your breaths stuttering and short. The thought alone brings his stomach to knots.

Rolan lets a long sigh go through his nose before his next move. He steps closer and wraps his arms around you tightly. A slight gasp leaves your lips before he feels you rest your head on his chest, holding him back in return. Rolan holds you in his thankful embrace, trying to ignore Cal and Lias whistling.

It's one of the most stressful days he's had since becoming Archmage and the fall of the absolute. The customers, the shop, usually it's all so easy to handle, but today, it feels like a pile of rocks on his shoulders. Rolan just needed a minute of quiet... just a second to breathe…

Then, in a flash, a novice wizard sets off a grease spell in the shop. Rolan stands next to you with a growl in his throat. Before he can yell, though, he looks over at your worried expression... He can't yell... So he does the next best thing.

With a sigh, Rolan holds his arms to you, his sign of, 'Hold me. before I break.' As you hold him, he feels it all start to melt away. His crybaby hero knows exactly how to melt away all his frustrations.

[baronessvonglitter]

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 8

Rom Com AU divorce laywer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring private investigator!Tim Rockford and plumber!Joel Miller)

Word count: 4,653

Summary: Secrets are unearthed at the infamous Starlight Motel. Are you and Dave strong enough to face them?

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for smut and allusions to smut. Fluff. Unprotected piv. Nipple play. Fingering. Mentions of infidelity. Catching cheaters in the act. Mild violence/blood/injury. A bit of the male gaze for laughs. Secret m/m relationship. References to embezzlement and crime. Reader wears a dress/skirt. No use of y/n.

Author's note: at the end

Series Masterlist

Maybe it's the caveman instinct in him, but after hearing that you've only ever been with Javier before him, Dave makes it his priority to bring you pleasure in every way possible. After leaving your store, you make your way to your place, getting lost in each other all over again.

He lives for the breathy way you say his name as he thrusts into you, the sweet sound of your gasps when he angles your hips just so to reach the hidden spot inside you.

There's not much sleep to be had that night, your eyes finally closing as the dawn hours approach. It just feels right to wake up next to you, to watch the late morning light dance across your skin, glinting in your hair.

"Have I told you how handsome you are?"

Resting his head in your lap, his face lights up at your words. He can get used to hearing compliments like this, especially from you.

"You're only saying that because you like my work down here," his large hand splays across your thighs as he winks.

"Maybe I am a little biased," you smile back.

Maple looks up from her corner of the room, eyeing you and crying for attention until you pat the bed, inviting her up to sit with you.

Scratching Maple's little ears, Dave looks like he belongs here. Not necessarily the house itself, with just the one bedroom, but he belongs in your life, of that you're sure. You can easily envision a home with him, weekends with the girls, movie nights and board games. Even if you never have your own kids, you know you'd be a good mom to Dave's girls.

That evening you start on a late dinner, his hands wrapped around you as you stand at the stove over a simmering pot, giggling as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck. You could get used to simple domesticity with him.

A simple dinner of pasta, sauteed chicken and spinach, paired with your favorite wine, is the perfect ending to the day. As the violet light filters through the kitchen window you fill up the dishwasher, cleaning the remains of the day as Dave sneaks up behind you, planting a kiss on the back of your neck.

Smiling, you turn slowly and envelop him in an embrace, kissing him full on the lips, wanting him again, wanting him always.

Dave groans into the kiss, pressing his body more firmly against yours. He lifts you up onto the counter and steps between your legs, his hands roaming under your shirt, desperate for you again. His lips trail across your throat, his voice rough with longing. "I can't wait any longer.. I need you right now."

"Mmm.. Dave.. fuck me right here.."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and practically tears them off. Then he pulls your shirt off over your head, leaving you in just your bra. He nips at your neck again as he deftly unclasps your bra, his actions led by the primal desire to remind you that you're his.

"How'd you do that so fast?" you chuckle.

He smirks, pulling your bra away to reveal you, now gloriously naked before him. "I'm just good with my hands, baby."

"I know.."

As much as a hurry he was in to get you naked, he slows it down, taking a moment to revel in your beauty, thankful to whatever fate brought you together. He caresses your breasts, sucking each nipple and lightly tweaking each one in turn.

"Taste so sweet," he murmurs, cupping each one in his large palm as he lifts your skirt up. "And so fucking wet.."

His fingers delve inside you as his other hand pulls down his pants, releasing his throbbing hardness. It's like he can't get enough of you.

Pulling you to the counter edge, flush with his own body, he rolls his hips against yours, the friction against his cock almost enough to make him come right then. Your desperate whimpers remind him to take control, to make this good for you. Your pleasure is his pleasure. "Tell me what you want, baby," he growls, low and rough in your ear.

A shiver runs through you. You love this side of him. "Want you inside me.."

He guides himself to your entrance, his blood thrumming like a low, primal drumbeat as he teases your folds, delighting in each hitch of your breath, watching how your core quivers in sweet anticipation. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you, Dave," you gasp, "more than I've ever wanted anyone."

He fights the urge to slam his whole length into you, instead feeding it into you slowly, watching himself disappear into your cunt. The sound you make is the sweetest music, your head tipped forward, and he realizes you're watching with him, needing to see the true connection of your bodies.

"Wait, I want to feel you," you whisper.

He freezes, every muscle tense as he holds back. Your warmth surrounds him, taking every ounce of willpower he has not to start moving again. He leans in, his forehead resting on your shoulder. "Y-yeah, baby. I'm right here," his voice comes out strained and rough.

"Ravish me," you whisper, and he growls, all restraint gone. He captures your lips in a fierce, hungry kiss, his hips finally moving against yours, claiming you in every way possible.

One of your hands pulls his hair while the other helps prop you up against the counter. His head ducks down, lips finding your neck, his tongue and teeth teasing your skin, leaving marks in their wake. Perched on the edge of the counter, thighs open wide, he thrusts into you as if his life depends on it. Hearing your desperate cries urges him on, holding back just enough, because even though he's had you several times already, you could still get him to come in a few strokes, just like he's a damn teenager all over again.

"Rub that sweet little clit for me," he whispers, his hands gripping the globes of your ass as he feels you close to the edge, your tight channel quivering around him. "You're almost there, baby. I'm gonna get you there," he grunts, keeping the same pace until your thighs lock around him in an effort to fuck yourself right on him. "That's it, that's it, fucking use me," he groans, letting you work him until you scream his name, your pussy milking him into his own orgasm. Filling you up is officiallly his favorite thing to do, and he stays lodged within you as long as he can to keep close to you.

He pulls you against him, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of his climax, fingers tangling in your soft locks. "You undo me, baby.."

"You're perfect," you whisper.

"I'm far from perfect, darling, but I appreciate the sentiment." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You, on the other hand.."

His phone rings and he lets out a frustrated sigh, taking a quick moment to answer Tim's call. He reluctantly untangles himself from you. "You've got awful timing, you know that, Rockford?"

"That's the nicest thing anyone's said about me this week," Tim says stoically. "I'm just calling to make sure you're still coming to the motel tonight to confront Carol and Mr. Miller."

Dave doesn't like letting Joel the unscrupulous plumber being referred to as "Mister" as if he deserves the least amount of respect. He groans, knowing he has to get back to reality to deal with his wife. "Yeah, I'll be there tonight." He takes down the address and agrees to meet Tim there.

You watch as he ends the call. "So you're really going?"

"Believe me when I say I'd rather spend all night here with you," he says, cupping your chin. "But I need to confront her and get this over with."

You put your hand on his. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"You'd do that?"

"Of course.. I'd do anything for you, Dave.."

He brings you hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Thank you, baby. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Whatever happens tonight, we'll face it together."

Molly and Alice are spending the night at their friend's house, leaving Carol free to meet with Joel, and Dave free to catch them in the act.

Neither of you speak much as you drive up to the Starlight Motel, a typical charge-by-the-hour place to house people who want their dealings kept secret. Red neon advertises the name, above a sign heralding free HBO and adult channels.

Dave's car pulls up right alongside Tim's nondescript black vehicle. Anticipation is thick in the air between you.

"Are you nervous?" you ask as Dave turns off the engine. You're both sitting in the darkened car.

"Yeah," he answers, sighing, a sense of dread deep in the pit of his stomach. "I don't know how I'm going to feel about seeing her with someone else.."

You rub his arm soothingly, wishing you could kiss away all his worries and they'd magically go away. "She never deserved you, Dave."

"I know." When he looks at you, gratitude and pain are etched into the tired lines around his eyes. "It's still hard, you know? To think she's willingly throwing away years of our marriage-"

Tim knocks on the driver's side window, interrupting. "Hey, they're in room 103. They just went in about twenty minutes ago. You still want to do this, Mr. York?"

Dave takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to encounter. He's used to rehearsing what he's going to say before a trial or a mediation, but now that the moment is about him, he's relying on pure instinct.

"Yeah. I need to do this. Let's go."

As much as you want to be at Dave's side, Tim convinces you it's best for you to stay out of the way, citing that it wouldn't look well for Dave to confront his cheating wife while his girlfriend is with him.

Leaving you back at the car, the lawyer and the PI make their way to the motel room. "You and her ever.. date?" Dave asks Tim, a random question to quell the rising apprehension in his chest.

Tim blushes, or maybe it's the neon sign illuminating his face. "No, it was never like that with us. Strictly business," he assures Dave. "Besides, I'm.. kind of seeing someone."

"Oh. That's great," Dave says encouragingly, a little bit of relief going through him before they approach room 103.

The sounds coming from within set a stab of jealousy and anger flare up in Dave's gut. A man and woman, moaning, gasping, cursing.

"You're sure there in this room?" Dave asks, suddenly frozen to the spot.

They're really going at it..

"This is the one," Tim says. "Do you want to knock or should I?" A gun is in his holster at his side, a fact he keeps hidden from Dave, not wanting to alarm him. Sometimes even an easy thing like this can go badly, especially where adultery is involved.

Dave nods that he'll do it, takes a deep breath and attempts to shut out the obscene noises coming from within. He raises his hand and raps firmly on the door.

The sounds stop and there's a shuffling, like blankets tossed aside. A man opens the door with a sheet around his waist. His salt-and-pepper hair is slicked back, deep-set brown eyes narrowed in annoyance at being interrupted. "What the hell do you want?" he asks in a deep, gravelly, Texan accent.

Dave freezes, the sight of this man who Carol has risked everything to meet up with and spend time with, is like a punch in the gut. Joel Miller. But he forces himself to remain composed, his heart thudding in his chest and his voice cold and measured.

"I'm looking for my wife."

There's a gasp from within as Carol hides under the duvet. Dave's gaze hardens. "I know she's in there, now let me in."

He shoves past Joel, with Tim pushing the door open before it can be closed on him.

Dave almost pities his wife in this moment, watching her try to hide as if he really wouldn't find her. "You were never very good at being subtle, were you, Carol?"

She groans, sitting up and covering herself. She casts an irked glance at Tim, who's explaining the situation to Joel, keeping him at arm's length so Dave can speak with her.

"I can explain," she says, wincing when Dave gives a bitter scoff.

"Can you? Can you really? I'm standing in a room where you were just caught in bed with another man, and you think you can explain this away?"

"You pushed me towards this!" she fights back. "You were always working late, or out of town. I wanted something for myself!"

Dave can hardly believe what he's hearing. He always thought Carol to be smarter than this, but here she is, using the lamest excuse in the book. "You wanted something for yourself, so you decided to cheat on me instead of talking to me about how unhappy you were? Or leaving me, or even just asking for a divorce?" His jaw tightens in anger and disbelief.

"I don't want a damn divorce, Dave. I just want to be with Joel now and then, okay?"

This must be a nightmare. It has to be a nightmare he'll wake up from, only to find you there next to him in bed, slumbering peacefully as he plants a good morning kiss on your shoulder.

You are the only reason he's not completely falling apart at the seams right now.

"Is that how little you think of me?" he asks. "You love me just enough to keep me around, for what? You don't need my money, you barely pay attention to the kids. Just go off with this asshole, forget all about us, and live whatever goddamn fantasy you have built up in that head of yours."

"Dave-"

He whips around to address Joel, who's been letting the scene play out, amused.

"Did you know she was married? Did she even bother to tell you?"

Joel smirks, and Dave wants to punch him right on the jaw. "Look, buddy, she came onto me like a cat in heat. Would you turn down free pussy like that?"

Carol's hiding her face in her hands while Dave's own hands ball up into fists, Tim's voice barely registering in his ears, cautioning him to stay cool as he gets between him and Joel.

Heated words are exchanged, with Tim trying to get both men to calm down, shouting over both of them.

"What are you going to do now?" Carol asks, her voice small, humbled for once.

"You really want to know what I'm gonna do now? I'm gonna end this farce of a marriage, for starters. And I'm gonna expose you to our friends and family so they all know the kind of person you really are."

"Dave," she gasps, "you wouldn't!"

He's unrepentant, every word that comes out of his mouth more than she even deserves. If he was a worse person he'd leave without telling her. He'd pack up and take the girls away. "Don't tell me what I would and wouldn't do. Obviously we don't know each other that well anymore."

For the first time Carol looks truly contrite, but Dave steels himself against her manipulative ways. "At least let me clean up and we can talk about this. Please."

He nods begrudgingly, turning away as she goes to the bathroom. Soon the shower is heard running.

"You can have her," Dave tells Joel. "She's not my wife anymore. I guess she never was."

Joel scoffs. "She ain't worth the trouble. Crazy bitch thinks I'm in love with her. Maybe you take her," Joel tells Tim.

The PI looks disgusted. "Is that how you usually talk about women? I should've let Dave beat the shit out of you. Maybe then you'd have some sense knocked into you."

"Don't fucking talk about her that way," Dave agrees, casting Joel a repulsed glance. "Is it too late for me to beat the shit out of him?" he asks Tim.

"As if you fuckin' could," Joel sneers.

"Big talk from someone wearing a bedsheet around his waist," Tim rolls his eyes. "She's been in there a long time, hasn't she?"

Both Dave and Joel hurry to the restroom, finding it unlocked, the shower running with no one in it.

"She's gone. She left through the fucking window," Dave says, pushing past Joel and going around the side of the building.

Tim follows as Joel quickly puts his jeans on before running out as well.

There, in the alley behind the motel, is Carol, sprawled on her back, and you on top of her torso, pinning her down.

"Got her!" you announce, trying to catch your breath as you straddle Carol, your dress riding up your thighs and breasts spilling over the front of your dress.

For a full minute all three men stare in surprise and lust.

Waiting in the car, you get out for some fresh air, keeping an eye on the motel room as Dave and Tim went in. Your heart leaps in your throat. It's really happening..

What if he doesn't choose you? What if he decides Carol is what he wants?

You shake your head of these thoughts. Dave promised he wanted you and you alone. It's not just the promise you believe, but you trust the feeling you have when you're with him, that spark in the air that you've never experienced before, not even when you were in love with Javier.

There's no motion from the room. Maybe it's going to be a peaceful ending after all..

Grabbing a couple dollar bills from your purse you start towards the side of the building to get a soda from the machine. Right as a cold drink is deposited in the little receptacle, you grab it as you feel someone running towards you.

Not at you per se, but in your direction. You know her face immediately, though you've never met her before.

Carol.

She's in a bra and underwear, running into the alley behind the motel. Without a second thought you take off after her.

"Hey! Stop!" you call out, but she doesn't listen.

Running on adrenaline, you catch up with her, knocking her to the ground as you lose your footing, landing on top of her. You ignore the shock of pain throbbing in your scraped knees and shins as the three men come around the corner, finding you.

"What's going on here?" Dave asks, the first to be snapped out of his stupor.

"Let go of me, you bitch!" Carol growls, and while you're momentarily distracted by Dave, she backhands you, cutting your cheek with her ring.

The men come forward, helping you up while Joel pulls Carol off the ground, pinning her hands behind her back. "Actin' crazier than a damn feral cat," he hisses at her, his antipathy obvious.

"Are you okay?" Dave asks, tenderly touching your cheek, pulling back when you wince. "It's just a scratch, baby. We can fix it."

"Who the fuck is that?" Carol yells. "Fucking someone already, Dave? You've got to be kidding me!"

"Who she is is none of your damn business. You lost the right to question me about who I spend my time with when you decided to go crawling into bed with this scumbag," he glared at her and Joel.

"Scumbag? Fuck you and your bitch, you fuckin' asshole!" Joel approaches threateningly. Dave places you behind him to protect you.

"You better watch your goddamn mouth, pal, because the next thing coming out of it will be your own teeth if you don't stop talking about her like that."

"I don't think you've got the balls-"

Dave swings, his fist connecting solidly with Joel's jaw. He stumbles back, shock and surprise on his face as Carol immediately hovers over him, screaming at her husband.

"Baby," you softly take hold of Dave's other hand.

"I'm all right," he says, taking you in his arms and kissing you.

"Apologize," he says to Joel, cold as ice. "Tell her you're sorry."

Joel's wiping blood from his mouth, spitting it out on the ground. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Didn't catch that."

"Sorry," he repeats, getting up and shoving Carol away from him.

Carol groans from the ground watching Joel leave her and watching you and Dave embracing. "Really??"

"Find somewhere else to sleep tonight, Carol," he tells her, wrapping his arm around you as you start to walk away. "I'll have your things packed up and ready for you to take."

The motel office has a first aid kit and a restroom for both you and Dave to clean yourselves up in. The desk clerk doesn't look happy about violence occurring on his property and advises you to get yourselves patched up and leave before he calls the cops. Tim stays at the desk to talk some sense into him as you and Dave share the small sink to clean your wounds.

The cut on your cheek is superficial and shouldn't leave a scar, but Dave cares for you gently nonetheless. He softly applies a butterfly bandage to your cheek, pressing a soft, healing kiss to it after, and tends to your scrapes on your knees and legs, cleaning the gravel out of the skin. His knuckles are bloody and brusied from when he decked Joel, and you tend to those as well, washing and appying antibiotic cream and and sterile bandages, giving them a kiss as well.

"What a night, huh?" he says, his smile showing signs of tiredness.

"Yeah.. how do you feel?"

"Honestly.. you know that feeling when you're going to puke, and you don't want to because it's gross, but when you finally do puke you just feel better?"

You chuckle at that. "Yeah."

"I feel exactly like that."

A sigh leaves your lips as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Dave.."

"It was worth it all, if it let me be with you."

You share a soft kiss, pressing your foreheads together as you enjoy this little moment of solitude.

"I don't want any more drama or surprises," you tell him. "I've had enough twists and turns to last a good while."

And just as the words leave your lips, there's a commotion at the front desk just outside. You and Dave exchange a look before heading out there.

"I know he's here, Tim! One of his goons finally talked. He's here, and not even you knew that!"

You recognize the voice before you see the blond woman screeching at Tim in the motel lobby.

Connie Murphy, the wife of you ex-husband's business partner, Steve.

"Hey.. Connie?" You approach her from behind Tim. "What are you doing here? Is Steve okay?"

You could care less about him, the way he always treated you as if you were invisible, only referring to Javier when you three were in the same room.

Her eyes land on you, the look in them softens. You hadn't been especially close with her while married to Javi, but she'd been kind enough to send a gift and give comforting words after your divorce.

"It's Steve. He's holing up here. I paid this so-called private investigator and he never tracked him to this spot." She shoots Tim a deadly glare.

"I'm sorry, Connie," you tell her. Of course Javier and Steve would be best friends, business partners, and adulterers. Birds of a feather really do stick together.

"I'm not working now, Mrs. Murphy," Tim calmly explains. "Do you know what room he's in?" He turns to the night manager. "Can you tell us?"

It's against the law, he says, but his tune changes when Dave slips him a fifty dollar bill.

"Murphy and his companion are in room 206, upstairs," he says, palming the bill and stuffing it in his pocket.

"Who is it?" you ask, following her up the stairs, Tim and Dave following right after.

"It's not who he's with that I'm concerned about, it's the fact that he's been embezzling money from the club," she says, her face taking on a hardened look. "Some of the money that comes in from some of the.. financiers" she sneaks a glance at Tim, "has gone missing, and Steve right along with it. I'm gonna track him down and turn him in." She had a cold gleam in her eye and you believe that she really will turn the tables on her no-good husband.

Room 206 is quiet, not much going on inside. The glow from the TV is visible through a crack in the curtains.

Connie breaks the silence, pounding on the door. "Open up, Steve! I know you're in there!"

She only quits pounding when Steve answers, shirtless and obviously shocked to see a crowd at his door. "Connie, what the hell?" He closes the door behind him, stepping out onto the balcony.

"What do you mean what am I doing here, what are you doing here??" she pushes him against the wall as Tim intervenes, keeping her away from doing more harm.

"Steve, babe, what the fuck's going on out there?" The door opens and Javier steps out, his hair mussed, wearing only his briefs. His neck and chest are covered in love bites. His hand snakes around to Steve's middle in a protective lover's clasp right before he sees the crowd gathered right outside his door. He takes his hand away but you've already seen it.

Javi and Steve. Lovers.

"Of course you're with him," Connie sneers. "When are you ever not together? I'll have you know the feds are on the way. Did you really think you could hide forever?"

She turns to you, a look of victory on her face. "I knew it. I should have told you before, but I had no proof, and after you left him I figured you wouldn't care anyway."

Stunned as you try to processs this new information, your gaze flits between Javi and Steve. They were always together. Steve always seemed jealous of you, protecting whatever secrets Javier possessed, encouraging his infidelities. Because he was too afraid to lose him.

"Javi, what the fuck?" you whisper. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Jesus, sweetheart, I didn't know how. I didn't think you'd understand."

"But.. all those women.."

He shrugs, looking defeated. "I guess I was trying to fool myself into thinking I wasn't actually.. you know."

"Gay," Dave says, also invested in the play-by-play of this circumstance.

"Well, yeah," Javi nods. "Wait.. what the fuck are you doing here?"

Sirens howl in the distance. You crane your neck to see lights of blue and red traveling quickly up the road to where you are.

"Did you really do all those things?" you ask him. "I don't care that you're with Steve, that's the last thing I'm worried about. Did you really take the money?"

He gives you a long look, finally sighing, knowing his time was up. "Do me one favor, okay? Don't tell Cindy. She should hear it from me."

Shaking your head, you wish him luck as Dave takes your hand and leads you downstairs to the car.

"Take care of her!" Javier shouts down to Dave. It's the last of him that you'll ever have to hear as both of you leave the past behind and walk into a future you can build together.

A/n: The bomb has dropped. I read somewhere about a woman whose husband was constantly sleeping with other women, and as it turned out he was gay 🤷🏽‍♀️I thought it'd be an interesting twist (not that it excuses any of it) but it also looks like Javi's gonna have his day in court for his crimes 😎 And Joel being an asshole was kind of a given. I wanted him as a foil, and Carol doesn't deserve a happy ending IMO. Thank all of you for your continued support ❤️

dividers by @strangergraphics and @adornedwithlight 👑

taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

@vickie5446 @mrs-pedro-pascal @sunnytuliptime

@mysticsuitcasealmondwombat @joelmillerisapunk @almostfoxglove

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @604to647 @milla-frenchy

@everybodylovedcontractors @misstokyo7love @ppascalq

(if anyone wishes to be removed from the taglist, please let me know. the only one who hurts my feelings is myself -- and my seven year old)

[jd-loves-fiction]

For the Contes de Fées, i would like to ask for Azul, then you first meet him. Sfw or nsfw its up to you in the happy ending. (I dont feel like crying today lmao)

Gn reader if possible, you know who this is~

-🐙🐕

💐This one turned out quite shot but I'm losing steam fast :( hope you enjoy it hun!! ❤️

❧ A simple bargain

❧ When the sky had turned dreadfully dark, you should've turned tail and ran. But what hope did you have of outrunning a storm so close.

So you prepared for the worst and prayed. Before you knew it, you'd been thrown overboard so roughly, you were out before even hitting the water.

To survive would have been a miracle – one you did not believe in. And yet, you feel the tug of consciousness against the back of your head hours later, back upon cool rock and the scent of something cooking invading your nose.

You come to slowly and with much effort, regaining use of each of your limbs with slight twitches until they finally listen to your commands. Sitting up seems an impossible feat as you’re left gasping just from trying.

“Welcome back, captain.” The sudden greeting makes you double your efforts of standing up to know who saved you, though the silky voice is entirely unfamiliar.

When you succeed, you turn toward where the voice had come from to see a smartly dressed man tending to a pot.

You blink your eyes purposefully, making sure your eyes do not deceive you. The man is pale as birch, with hair like strands of silver and a smile that spells trouble without a doubt. It’s still not clear to you if you are truly awake.

“How– Who–?” Your voice fails you, raspy and as broken as you feel – aching down to your very bones, skin both cold and clammy and a strange taste in your mouth.

“Don't strain yourself, captain. Keeping you alive through the night was not at all easy and I’d hate for my efforts to be wasted before you can pay me back.” The man speaks with the practiced ease of a slimy businessman, though he must be nothing of the sort given the way his pale skin catches the light in such an mesmerizing way… plus the fact that the cave you find yourselves in has no entrance besides a pool of dark seawater.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Azul, though I respond to ‘savior’ just as well.” He finally seems to give you his full attention, only to give you a cheeky response.

“How do I know you’re not lying about saving me?”

“Do you see anyone else here?” He gestures around himself in a wide, dramatic arc and from that movement alone you can tell he’s going to be a pain in the neck.

“How do you know who I am? Why did you save me?” Questions rush out of you like a waterfall as your senses finally return to you in full. You’re head is spinning and aching, trying to make sense of what you know happened, where you are, who he could possibly be–

“So many questions… you’re lucky I’m a patient man.” Azul heaves a long-suffering sigh, standing from his stone seat to move closer to you, making you tense up, “I know who you are because I’ve been watching you and I saved you because I believed you’d be of use to me were we to make a deal. Which we will, once you get your bearings.” He stands a mere two steps from where you sit, back straight as a rod and spewing such overconfident nonsense you fear he might’ve seen the future to be so sure. If not for the way his fingers twitch at his sides, anxious.

“You sound so sure, and yet you don't look it.” He seems stunned at the accusation, subtly flinching in surprise. Seems you're more shrewd than he expected. 

“There's always a degree of assumption or probability to deals such as these. I tend to avoid falling into blind confidence.” He pulls himself together so quickly that your weakened mind accepts it without question.

“What's this about a deal?” You bring a hand up to your aching forehead – dealing with businessmen is an endeavor guaranteed to give you a headache every time.

“I saved your life, so now there's the matter of how you'll pay me back.” Azul states simply, almost patiently – if you were to take his words at face value.

“Right. Can't I just pay you back?”

“I have plenty of money. There's something much more valuable that I want from you.” That can't be good.

You wait for him to name his price himself, but he simply looks at you expectantly – how dramatic, “What would that be?”

“Your heart.”

“...What?”

[rhiannonsknife]

confession… i’ve only JUST finished watching yellowjackets 🫥

anyway i’m thinking a lot about adult shauna (but honestly when am i not?). something about the way she’s always seen her love as fatal, that anyone who gets close to her will die or be taken away from her. makes me so upset :(

i need to give her a million little kisses and teach her that it’s okay to love and it’s not something to be scared of. that her love is not dangerous and she’s not a monster.

- 🦔

now why would you do this to me 🦔 anon?? all i do is cry to your asks god DAMN!!

the first time shauna lets you touch her, really touch her, feels like it’s not real at all. like your imagination is playing tricks on you, allowing you to see a version of her where she actually lets you do what you’ve been wanting to for the longest time.

not because she’s unattainable or distant with you (though she can be), but because you know how much effort it takes for her to let anyone in. every gesture, every word, every tender feeling is something she has learned to be wary of, something that might explode in her face if she’s not careful enough. and you, you’re relentless. gentle, but relentless. and that scares her more than anything else.

“why do you even want this?” she asks that night, her voice raw, her body a rigid line beside you in your bed. the rest of the room is dark, save for the soft glow of the bedside lamp behind shauna. she’s on her back, looking up at the ceiling instead of at you.

“you should…” the pillow rustles under her head when she turns to look at you. “i don’t know…walk away! otherwise it’ll be too late,”

her words get to you. not because you believe them, but because shauna does. you prop yourself up on one elbow, looking down at her. “too late for what?” you ask. “to love you?”

shauna’s jaw clenches, and she turns her head away. “i was gonna say survive me,” she scoffs.

you can see the ghosts she carries behind her eyes, the weight of years spent convincing herself that loving her is not a blessing but a curse. that the things she’s done, the things she’s lived through that she never talks about, have left her irreparably broken. dangerous, maybe even.

“shauna,” you whisper, your fingers brushing against her arm. she flinches at first, but you don’t pull away. you let your hand settle, a warm, grounding sensation against her cool skin. “your love isn’t fatal,”

she exhales a shaky breath, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “you don’t even know what i’ve done,”

“i don’t have to,” you tell her firmly. “whatever it is, it doesn’t define you. it…it doesn’t make you unworthy of being loved!”

shauna’s lips press into a thin line, her defenses cracking but not yet crumbling. you shift closer, letting your hand trail up to her face. when you cradle her cheek, she finally turns to look at you again.

“you’re not some kind of monster,” you say softly, your thumb brushing the curve of her cheek. “and if you think for just a second that i’m scared of loving you, you’re wrong.”

“and what if i ruin you? what then?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“you won’t,” you promise quietly. if she wasn’t so close to you, she wouldn’t hear it at all. “you won’t ruin me, shauna”

you lean down and press the gentlest kiss to her forehead. it’s not hurried or desperate. it’s steady, deliberate, a vow in its own right and so unlike your usual encounters. then another kiss, this one to her temple, and then her cheek. a million little reminders that you’re still here, that she’s safe.

shauna’s breath hitches as she reaches up, her hand trembling as it finds yours where it rests against her face. she just holds it there, her fingers curling around yours as you press another kiss to her jaw, and then one to the side of her mouth.

her lips part slightly, a shaky exhale escaping her, but she doesn’t pull away. she even leans into you, like she’s waiting to see if the world will shatter around her if she lets herself have this. and when it doesn’t, when it’s just you, she closes her eyes, her defenses crumbling at last.

“you’re safe with me,” you promise against her skin, your lips brushing her cheekbone, her temple, her hairline. you can feel her body relaxing, her breath evening out. “i’m here, shauna. i’m not going anywhere,”

[bridgetteofhearts]

It all started with a quick text, Maggie had lost her phone so she asked me to send her dad a text.

"Hello, Mr. Smith, this is Bridget. Maggie doesn't feel very good and she has lost her phone, she's asking if you could pick her up early today."

"Hi, honey. Tell Maggie I'll be there in 10."

I didn't have reasons to text him, I would only text him if Maggie needed me to. I couldn't tell him how I felt about him, how much I wanted him. Maggie would kill me if she found out, but I couldn't help myself. I took a picture of my body and sent it to him.

He saw it and called me.

"Bridget, honey... why did you send me that?" he sounded tired and surprised as well as concerned.

"I'm sorry Mr. Smith. I didn't mean to... it- it was for someone else," I lied.

He sighed, "you should not send those pictures to anyone, you should not take pictures like those in the first place, honey."

"You didn't like it?"

"God..." I heard him whisper, "It doesn't matter. What would your mother say about this? I won't say anything because I don't want to get you in trouble, but you have to promise me," he took my hands in his and looked me in the eyes "that you won't do it again."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith. I promise I won't do it again," I sobbed.

"No, no, no. Honey, no crying. Why are you crying, princess?" he tried to soothe me.

"Because you're mad at me..." I tried to sound as sad as I could.

I hung up abruptly and a few minutes later he was at the door. I opened the door and he hugged me.

"I'm sorry, baby. I am not mad at you. I promise, sweet girl," his voice was low, soft and gentle. I cried in his arms and apologized. He rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head.

"Come here, baby. Let's clean your pretty face," he took me to the kitchen and cleaned my face with a paper towel. My eyes were on his, I wanted to kiss him, I wanted so many things.

When he was done he cupped my face with one hand and looked at me, "did you send that picture to someone else?" he asked and I shook my head. "Good. Boys are stupid and cruel, so whoever that picture was meant to... he would've shared your pretty body with his friends. That's why you shouldn't send pictures of your body."

I nodded and stayed silent for a few seconds just looking at him "you think... my body is pretty?" I asked.

"I- That was not..." he tried to hide his embarrasment and ruffled my hair, "don't be cheeky now, honey," I knew he was thinking about the picture as soon as I saw his bludge. He caressed my face and looked at me, "is your mom home?" I shook my head.

"Mum is working," he smirked. His hands went to my waist and he pulled me close, I could feel his bulge poking my tummy, "I think you deserve a punishment, little girl."

He took me to my room and made me strip, he bent me over his knee and spanked my bum, his other hand was covering my mouth, "you've got to learn to be a good girl, if your mom doesn't teach you, then I will."

[touchlikethesun]

it just keeps getting worse, yue qingyuan just keeps getting more pathetic and more despondent. how does shen yuan not realise??? or does he just not care??? again i don't think the right answer is to actually encourage a relationship with ygy again, shen jiu is dead and shen yuan does not love him, but he could have explained it earlier instead of dragging it out and resigning yqy to such a slow painful death. i am legitimately concered ygy will not make it out of this fic, and he's so sad that i can't even really be happy for binghe and shen qingqiu. like he really screwed his whole life over, chasing security for him and shen jiu only got him trapped in a miserable job, he was so cruel to shen jiu that shen jiu died of grief (insane), liu qingge is in love with shen yuan and is constantly angry with him for how he treats him, and shen yuan - who he thinks is shen jiu - doesn't notice any of this and is more than happy to nope out anyways and go off with binghe. he has no lover, no family, no friends, his political position is in jeopardy. like. can he. can he please catch a break. i am not a yue qingyuan fan but damn any human would feel for him

reading i wish you were my husband by feynite and crying because of how cruel shen yuan is being with yue qingyuan 😭 it was deserved at first but honestly yue qingyuan is just so pathetic i want someone anyone to throw him a bone omg you don’t have to love him a yuan but could you maybe like talk with him like ever ????

[julijbee]

girlbossing too close to the sun.

[fisheito]

collab #2 with @xenole i was given a chibi yakumo and i.. i...... turned it into thiS