#if I say I want to be thrown by one then I want to be thrown by one!

[lovelookspretty]

erase me

exboyfriend!rafe cameron x exgirlfriend!reader

— “ and i wonder who will erase me? ”

content: unhealthy relationship post-breakup, hookups, sexual themes, drinking, toxic cycles, SMALL ONE-SHOT idc

authors note: “erase me” by lizzy mcalpine has been my hyper fixation song lately n i was just watching the music video when i thought to myself huh. this would so fit with rafes character !

his lips are soft against your skin, pulling slowly away just to dive in again. he’s savoring every noise, every taste, every sight, every part of you.

his back is bare, freckles scattered across the ivory that you’ve thought about tracing once or twice before, only if you ever stuck around long enough.

his fingers curl inside you, erupting a reaction that he chases after. you’re like a drug to him. his tongue grinds—swirling, flicking, teasing. he’s giving his all to you. to please you. to make you feel like you never have before.

but there’s just something off.

you lower your chin to look at him through heavy lids. his forehead is licked with sweat, cheeks soft red but his lips swollen from working on you. the realisation comes faster than you do.

for the past eighteen minutes you have not had a present bone in your body. he started eighteen minutes ago, and not once have you released yet, or felt like you wanted to.

it’s almost embarrassing, needless to say more for him and less for you, but you can still feel second-hand. your mind can wander but it doesn’t stray from the fact that he can’t give you what you need. but you know who can.

just as you look closer, he’s pulling himself off of you to flip you onto your stomach so he can fuck you. it’s raw, and he slips his cock inside of you easily—it’s just better than whatever the hell he was doing before.

his hips snap brutally against your own, his chest pressed against your back as he curves his hand around your throat, applying pressure. there.

that’s when you feel it. not him, but that familiar sense. a warmth you know all too well. you’ve been tossed, turned, flipped, thrown, all for the pleasure of a man. here, it’s no different.

your phone lights up on the nightstand, and all you can think about is him again. his grunts in your ear, encouraging you to keep holding yourself up so he can murmur how pathetic you are so that the praises hit better. you’d rather feel the tip of his cock finding your g-spot over and over again until you string out a moan, barely comprehensible but you know that he can make out his own name from your lips.

rafe.

you wanna say it again—rafe. but it’s fine. right here is fine. this guy’s fucking you in his bed. he’s surely some eye candy, and he’s been gentle with you all night. the sex can be rough though, and maybe that’s what you need.

still, something stirs in you, and you know that it’s not what you want.

you wake up to the pale yellow light filtering through unfamiliar blinds. the room is silent, save for the soft breathing of the guy beside you. he’s sprawled out, dead asleep, dark hair ruffled, face turned away. you don’t even remember his name—just that he’s neighbors with your friend who hosted the party last night.

your head throbs, a steady, unforgiving ache that pulses behind your eyes, and the sour taste of rum still lingers on your tongue. you shift slightly, feeling the rough fabric of his sheets against your bare skin, and suddenly, an emptiness sinks in, heavy and suffocating. you’re barely dressed, just his oversized t-shirt clinging to you like a ghost of whatever last night was supposed to mean.

you stare blankly ahead, your head propped on a pillow, but your body turns away from him, toward the edge of the bed. your arm dangles off the side, fingertips brushing the floor. it’s ironic, how last night’s distraction becomes this morning’s reminder of how desperate you are to erase him—rafe.

you stay like that for a moment, unmoving, letting the sting of it seep in. the room smells like cologne and stale alcohol. he’s nice enough, you think vaguely. kind eyes, a smile that had been warm just last night.

but now, it’s empty. meaningless.

you push yourself up slowly, carefully, so you don’t wake him. your fingers shake a little as you pull on your clothes from the night before, you don’t bother with anything else. you move quietly as you gather your shoes and slip them on, not daring to glance back.

when you step out into the early morning air, the street is quiet, the world still practically waking up. rafe’s name pounds in your head with each step you take.

your hand shakes as you pull your phone from your pocket, staring at his name in your contact list. you shouldn’t call him. you know that. but the ache, the gnawing desperation to hear something from him, is too much to resist. your thumb hovers for a second too long, then you press the call button before you can think better of it.

it rings. once. twice. you almost hope he doesn’t pick up, that you can hang up and convince yourself you were just being stupid. but then the line clicks, and his voice cuts through, sharp and unforgiving.

“what?” his voice is rough, low, the way it gets when he’s been up all night. you can picture him now, jaw tight, blue eyes dark and narrowed. your pulse quickens.

you swallow, suddenly dry-mouthed. “rafe,” you mumble. “hey.”

“are you serious right now?” he snaps, and you can hear the rustle of sheets, like he’s sitting up. “don’t call me, y/n. i don’t want to hear your voice.”

the words sting, but they don’t stop you. they never do. you almost smile, that twisted, sick part of you that craves this, the heat of his anger, the way it matches the storm in your chest.

“why not?” your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to, a little rasp from sleep and the lingering effects of alcohol. “you sound wide awake for someone who doesn’t wanna talk.”

there’s a pause, just long enough for you to think he might hang up, but then his voice comes back, clearer, like he’s got the mic pressed right against his mouth. “you’re unbelievable—‘hear me? un-believable. you leave that party with some random guy and then you call me? is this some kind of game to you?”

“it wasn’t like that,” you mutter, but it’s half-hearted. it was exactly like that. your shame burns hotter under rafe’s scalding words.

“no? then what is it, hmph? because lately, all you’ve done is show me just how fast you can try to replace me,” he spits, voice laced with something that sounds dangerously close to hurt.

your grip on the phone tightens, nails digging into your palm. “it’s not like you’re innocent,” you say, the words barely a whisper. it’s pathetic, you know it is, but it’s all you have.

“don’t turn this around on me,” he snaps. “yeah, i know what you’re trying to do, running off with random guys like it’s supposed to mean something. you think i don’t hear about it? but you call me? after all of this, you still call me?”

his voice cracks at the end, barely perceptible, and that tiny break twists something in your chest. you press your lips together, trying not to let him hear the way your breath shakes despite your smile.

“rafe—”

“no,” he interrupts, hard, a finality to it that hits you like a slap. “don’t call me again.”

the line goes dead, and for a moment, you just stand there, staring at the phone in your hand. you feel some strange, hollow satisfaction just from hearing his voice, hearing him angry, hearing him give a fuck, even if it’s in the worst way.

a bitter smile tugs at your lips, but it fades just as fast, leaving a dull ache in its place. your teeth graze your bottom lip, the embarrassment settling in, thick and heavy. what were you even hoping to get out of that?

you shove your phone back into your pocket, the regret sinking in as you start to walk.

the music pulses through the room. you dance, eyes closed, while two faces are close, dancing around you, their hands lightly grazing your hips, steadying you as you sway. you can feel the warmth of their laughter and the faint pull of their fingers, but your mind is elsewhere. you’re not thinking about them. you’re not even thinking about yourself. you’re thinking about him.

rafe stands across the room, one hand gripping a cup. his jaw is tight, eyes narrowed as he watches you from a distance.

he notices everything. the way your hair tumbles over your shoulders, the curve of your lips when you laugh at something someone whispers in your ear, the way your body responds, a subtle roll of your hips, when the beat drops. it’s infuriating.

you’re so far away, yet every move you make drags him closer to the edge. he hates it. hates that you’re pretending not to see him. hates that you’re acting like this—so carefree, so untethered, so far from the girl he remembers.

someone bumps into you, hard enough that you stumble slightly. rafe’s grip on his drink tightens, the glass groaning under the strain of his fingers. but then he sees it—how you turn and smile, an easy, genuine smile, and apologize to the stranger as if the fault was yours.

not even a hint of annoyance, not a trace of the sharpness he knows you have when provoked.

he watches, feeling the burn of it—how can you be so good, so kind, yet crave the venom he’s always fed you?

do they know you called him this morning just to hear him snap at you, that you needed the sound of him furious just to feel close? he doesn’t think so, but he’s in awe, and it makes him hate you, hate himself.

how do you still do this to him?

the trance is broken when sofia appears, slipping from the hallway with a playful smile. she says something—something about the line for the bathroom being longer than ever, that everyone’s probably considering the ocean instead.

he smiles, nodding as he pulls her in, an arm draped around her shoulders. the shift in his attention is deliberate, as if trying to convince himself he doesn’t care. as if touching someone else, being close to someone else, could drown out the low hum of you in his veins.

and that’s when you open your eyes, half-lidded and hazy, the world coming into focus with a few blinks. you glance around, a soft smile still curving your lips, until your gaze lands on them.

there’s no hiding the small, faint frown that pulls at your mouth. it’s barely there, but still is. you watch rafe let her take his drink, her fingers brushing his as she sips. your eyes flick down, betraying you for a moment as you take in their closeness, and then, just like that, you look away.

there’s a sting behind your eyes, but it’s not strong enough to stop you. you press your lips into a thin line, exhaling sharply as you turn back to the crowd. you don’t pause before reaching for the hand of a guy nearby, someone whose name you won’t remember tomorrow. again.

you lace your fingers through his and pull him with you, stepping through the bodies and toward the stairs. he watches, his mouth set in a thin line, but he doesn’t move. he just watches you walk away.

it all twists something inside you, bitter and raw, but you keep walking. maybe you and rafe are both pretending it’s over, trying to find where you begin without each other. at least you know now who’s painting over the last parts of you.

erasing you.

a/n: wanted to just leave it here and kind of quickly depict toxic cycles & the two POVs 😭 bc yea they are so NOT over each other

tags: @iiszaa @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @hoelesslyt @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot @0-tatiana-0

[somestorythoughts]

I didn't really get people's reference to the balcony and Dooku never seriously trying to kill Obi-Wan till I rewatched ROTS, saw that scene, and immediately went "OH I get it now."

Cause that fucking thing? Almost definitely at the right angle to come down hard on his torso. And even if it's not, we've seen Dooku move PILLARS making that thing fully crush Obi-Wan shouldn't have been hard, especially since no one's actually attacking at that moment (Anakin just got thrown, boy be staring). It doesn't even need to squash him like a bug it just needs to land really hard on his ribs or those important inner organs a bit below or by Force his HEAD. Not a quick death like lightsaber beheading, but still probably dead unless they get to a doctor super fast and are very lucky.

Heavy thing hits ribs, ribs break, bone punctures lung, voila no more pain in the ass jedi Palpatine thinks.

Except NO because DOOKU brings the FUCKING BALCONY down very carefully on to Obi-Wan's THIGHS. His THIGHS. Think that through a moment, not only are there NO ORGANS THERE but that is the thickest bone in your body and (I think) has a good bit of padding from your thighs and therefore is probably tricky to break. Admittedly the no organs is probably more what Dooku was thinking BUT STILL. THIS GUY. Collapsed a WHOLE-ASS BALCONY IN THE LULL OF A FIGHT ON TO A PERSON CAREFULLY. How the fuck.

So yeah I get why people say Dooku wants Obi-Wan to stay alive.

Lightsaber Theory: Obi-Wan "Sith Lords are Our Specialty" Kenobi consistently loses duels to Dooku not for any reason of technical form mismatch or lack of ability, but because Dooku is not even pretending to try to kill him. Resultantly, Obi-Wan can’t figure out what the fuck is going on when they fight. 

Obi-Wan: (preparing to defend an expected lethal strike) You’ll answer for your enormities, Count!

Dooku: (giving him the lightest love tap on the leg) Don’t be so sure, my special good lineage baby boy, so perfect in my eyes. 

Obi-Wan: …What?

Dooku: What?

Which Dooku and Obi-Wan proud lineage moment is even the most unhinged? There are so many to choose from! Is it Dooku’s frequent inability, both in AotC and TCW, to keep from spontaneously gushing about Sidious’s plans and even his own dark secrets to Obi-Wan?? Is it the time in Labyrinth of Evil where Dooku drags a long-suffering, bored Grievous over to watch a holorecording of Anakin and Obi-Wan thwarting his plans yet again, to point out how beautifully they’re working together as a team and how much he likes watching their lightsaber work evolve? Is it in the recent Brotherhood novel, where Obi-Wan just has to casually namedrop Qui-Gon to get Dooku to do exactly what he wants?

Obi-Wan is a big problem for Sidious in his mission to destabilize and corrupt Anakin, and Sidious knows it. He needs him out of the picture to do the same isolating, evil bullshit that worked so well when ensnaring Dooku himself. But the war has been going on for years now, and guess who remains inconveniently alive? And whose job was that to take care of? Oh yeah. I remember. His useless, Padawan assassin-collecting apprentice: fucking Count Dooku. By the time of RotS, Sidious has specifically ordered Dooku to make fucking sure Obi-Wan is dead only for him to completely ignore the command about a half-dozen times.

Going by the Stover RotS novelization, in the same scene where Dooku also literally refers to Obi-Wan as his fucking grandson actually, add that to our earlier list, Sidious reiterates that KILL OBI-WAN is the plan (over the sound of Dooku’s loud complaining) moments before that final duel.  I kind of wish we’d gotten a shot of Sidious's incredulous, enraged expression as Dooku knocks Obi-Wan unconscious and pins him safely out of the way. He is, once again, going out of his way to not kill Obi-Wan in that duel, and this time directly disobeying his Master to his face after they just had a conversation about it. You just know exactly what Sidious must be thinking at that moment. Oh, Dooku. You are so fucking fired.

[clos-posts]

Okay so, hear me out:

I've been on a bit of a Merlin fanfic hyperfocuse and came across another "I'm Emrys" where Merlin has to perform magic for Arthur to believe him, in front of the entire round table council, and I had a thought.

So, we all know that Merlin is magic itself, spells that seemed powerful to other sorcerers are not that powerful to Merlin and my hc is that these spells barely make his eyes turn gold, like maybe a flicker so fast the average person will miss it.

So I imagine Merlin saying he's Emrys and Arthur being all 'well then prove it' and Merlin makes a fireball (cliche I know but bear with me). Now Arthur has seen this spell and though he has a merger knowledge of magic, knows that it's quite a powerful spell and that most sorcerers eyes are practically a blinding gold, but Merlins eyes don't change. That and Merlin doesn't even speak and therefore didn't cast a spell.

Arthur, thinking that some other sorcerer helped Merlin with his self-sacrificing, kind-hearted, not wanting anyone to die personality, appear as if Merlin is this 'Emrys' and in a patience but patronizing tone tells Merlin that's is honorable to try and protect this Emrys, but his eyes didn't even change colour and therefore can not be a sorcerer.

Merlin, in a very Merlin way, huffs and proceeds to say something like 'Well duh, that was a very simple spell. Doesn't even require that much magic to perform' and the entire room goes silent.

(meanwhile Guise blood pressure has skyrocketed and is on the verge of either killing Merlin himself or having a heart attack. He hasn't decided yet.)

Arthur, absolutely baffled (and a little turn on at the casual display of apparently immense power), asks: 'What will make your eyes gold then? If you even are a sorcerer?'

Merlin, never one to back down from a challenge and already too deep into this, shrugs and says 'We would need to be outside'

And that's how the whole council ends up on the training grounds opposite Merlin waiting in anticipation as to what he will do.

There's silence so thick that no one dares break until Merlin starts to chant. At first nothing happens and Arthur is relieved (and a little disappointed), but then clouds start to gather, think dark clouds above them, and Merlin starts to get louder. Thunder claps across the sky and there electricity in the air making Arthur's hair stand on end and a shiver works its way down his spine. He looks at Merlin and though it's subtle at first, his eyes are glowing gold.

The tension builds and builds and with one final shout from Merlin, his eyes, a brilliant gold, as lightning falls all around him, clashing to the ground destroying the train field in its wake.

Arthur can do nothing but stare. Breath caught, heart hammer, and a sudden hot arousal catching him off guard. He can do nothing but stare at Merlin, his loyal manservant, standing amidst the lighting with his head thrown back and a look of contentment on his face, as if performing magic of this magnitude is comfortable, relaxing, an everyday occurrence.

When Merlins eyes meet Arthur's, there's a, small, sad smile on his lips, and then quicker then it had started the lightning stops and the clouds disappear, and the only thing that can be heard is the birds beginning to sing again.

Arthur can't think of anything to say and stupidly say 'you destroyed the training grounds'. Merlin at this point blushes, stammers out an apology before waving his hand with a few muttered words and the training field is in perfect condition once again.

Arthur and the entire council are baffled.

Then, before anyone could say anything, Arthur blurts out a command for Merlin to go to Arthur's chambers and he does. Without question. Just a shrug, and walks off. Arthur is wheeling. This powerful sorcerer, who just showed them a feat that no mortal man will ever replicate just listens to his command with nothing but a shrug!

Anyway, once Arthur has calmed the council somewhat he makes his way to his chambers. Once he enters Merlin is speaking so fast it's hard to keep up, something about coins, destiny and then shockingly how Arthur is the only person that can kill him if he uses Excalibur. What. The. Fuck.

Arthur: I'm not going to kill you Merlin!! Why would I kill you?!?

Merlin: Well, I mean, umm, I'm a sorcerer? Emery's? The strongest warlock to ever walk the Earth?

Arthur: I'm not going to kill you Merlin. However! If you do not take me to bed and absolutely ravish me in the next 10 minutes, I may have to resort to drastic measures!

Merlin, absolutely gobsmacked, face red: Wh- what measures..?

Arthur, absolutely confident, turned on beyond belief, practically gagging for it: I'll start begging.

And before he knows it Merlin pounces, and the rest is history.

That was not meant to be as long as it was... 😂

BUT!! If someone who writes fics could take this and write a fully fleshed version on this and then tag me in it I would be forever grateful. ADHD and dyslexia does not make a good writer for me unfortunately 🥲🥲🥲

OH! One last thing! I have a hc that cold iron had a natural negative field which repels energy which is why those that have learned magic have it cut off when chained in cold iron. They can't draw upon their magic from the energy around them. However, with Merlin being magic it's a little different for him.

So, I had this image of a knight, without prompting thinking he's doing what the king would want, walks up to Merlin at some point during his light show and slaps cold iron shackles on him. But, instead of the magic stopping, Merlins eyes grow brighter and bright, and the shackles start to shake and groan, because whilst cold iron does repel energy, it's a little hard to do that from both sides and can't take the pressure. At some point the shackles start to glow as the negative properties of the iron are being overwhelmed and forced into itself. Merlin looks down, looks back at the now terrified knight and says: You should probably duck. And no soon has the knight hit the ground the shackles explode, for lack of a better word. No harm done to Merlin tho.

[lazyturtlehottub]

There's no rapid knocking at the door, no angry shouts through the letter box, just one simple ding-dong of his doorbell that doesn't warn him about what's coming. Tommy peels himself off the sofa and kicks the blanket away from his feet before he makes his way down the hall, skin grubby from day three of no shower. Scratching at his neck, he peers through the peephole, finds no one, and opens the door to—

"Happy birthday, you asshole."

Evan shoves a plastic-boxed cake into his arms and shoves past him, all shoulders and grief-tinged rage. Tommy blinks at the empty space in front of him and then down at the cake with it's melting frosting and badly piped Happy Birthday that's threatening to slide off the top. The bottom of the box is warm, the cake presumably out of the oven in the last hour or two, and he shuts the door behind Evan.

"What are you doing here?" His voice is a telling rasp, and he turns only to find that Evan's not there and he's speaking to the air.

Moving back into his house he finds his ex-boyfriend standing in the living room, taking in the scene of Tommy's post-break up depression with an unimpressed look on his face.

"Evan—" he starts only to fall silent when a sharp look is thrown at him, pain etched into the lines of Evan's face.

"I thought it was Buck now," is the snark he gets back.

The snark that lands in the bruised parts of him and blooms fresh pain.

"I—right, yeah." Awkwardly he sets the cake down and shifts his weight. "What're you doing here?"

"It's your birthday so I baked you a cake because you're an idiot who broke my heart and I hate you but I love you more than I hate you and I wanted to tell you that," Evan says in an angry rush. "And I'm so mad at you, so fucking mad, Tommy. This last week—I've hated it. I miss you. It's like you gave me everything I ever wanted and then you just took it away from me and I fucking hate you for doing that."

Tommy swallows, throat dry. "If it helps, I hate myself too."

"No that doesn't help," Evan snaps, eyes tracking over him. "Jesus, have you even showered since last week?"

"Yes," he says, a little annoyance slipping into his tone. "I'm not a child."

Evan snorts and bends down to grab the blanket, shaking it out before folding it in rough sweeps of his hands until it's folded neat and tidy on the couch. It looks like there's more he wants to say and he's not sure what to say first and Tommy should tell him to leave, to keep this break as clean as possible but walking away from Evan was the hardest thing he's ever done, he's not sure he can stomach Evan walking away from him.

And then, without any warning, the anger drains from Evan, just slides right out of him until he's soft and sad and so wide eyed that Tommy can't bear looking at him.

(He can't bear to look away either.)

"Why didn't you tell me it wasn't serious?" Evan asks, voice wobbling and fingers curling in the sleeves of his hoodie that Tommy recognizes as his own. "Why did you let me—? I don't understand what went wrong."

"Evan," he rasps. "Buck."

"Don't," Evan interrupts, angrily swiping at his eyes. "Don't call me Buck. Don't ever call me that again, please. I can't—not from you."

"I'm sorry," Tommy says, uselessly. "I'm so sorry. I just wanted...you scare the shit out of me. You could—Jesus, Evan, the way you could break me without even realizing it...I'm terrified."

"So you thought you'd break me first?" Evan demands, anger wet and burning. "Because you did. Congratulations. I'm fucking miserable because of you. Because you were too afraid to actually have a conversation with me about what you wanted and needed and you just let me rush forward thinking we were both on the same page. And all this time you had one foot out the door."

Tommy shakes his head. "No, that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm not someone's forever!" The words snap out of him, cracking like a whip, and Evan blinks, startled. "I'm the guy that gets you there, alright? I'm the guy that shows you how it should be and then someone else, someone better, gets to be your forever."

Evan's mouth opens and then shuts, a frown pinching between his eyes that are focused on Tommy. "I didn't...how could there be someone better than you?"

"Evan," he sighs. "Please, don't."

"No, tell me, I want to know." Evan's stepping into his personal space, grabbing his hands and pulling him the rest of the way. And he burns at Evan's touch, at his warmth, at realizing that what he thought was the last time they touched wasn't it. "Who's going to love me like you do? Because you love me. I know you do. You haven't said it but I think I get why now but I know it. So tell me, who's going to love me as good as you do?"

"Evan, please."

His plea falls on deaf ears because Evan's right there, pale-skinned and smudges beneath his eyes from restless sleep, and Tommy wants to keep him there forever.

"I can't do it again," he whispers. "I can't let you go again."

"Then don't," Evan tells him. "I don't want you to. I don't want to explore my sexuality or whatever bullshit you think I need to do to be queer enough for a life with you. I just want you. Can't we just, I don't know, figure out the rest of it together?"

"Evan—"

He's weakening and he knows it. Worse, Evan knows it.

"We'll slow down, we'll go so slowly this time," Evan tells him, pressing his case and his body closer so that the warmth of his breath washes over Tommy's stale mouth. "We'll talk, properly. Maybe—maybe we could see a couple's therapist? Because I want you to be my last. I don't want anyone else. Please don't make me look for someone. Please."

"Evan." His body trembles. "I'm scared."

"I know," Evan says, soft like he's gentling a spooked horse. "But you can be scared with me, right? That's what it's about, yeah? Sharing the good things and the bad. I want both of them with you. I want everything with you. Will you please just—?"

Tommy kisses him and Evan immediately relaxes against him, the world righting itself around them, and he knows, right then, that Evan is his last, no matter what.

[revelboo]

First sounders is here! I got the shining version, his visor lights up! Literally the coolest thing I own right now

Look at him! Yours has Lazerbeak, too!

Mass displaced mech 18+ 🌶️

Everything Is Alright Pt 57

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Staring at you as you hide your face against his servo you’re still clinging to, he’s frozen. You like him? As in a friend or something more? Needing to ask, but afraid of the answer. Months ago he would have scoffed, likely said ‘of course, you do.’ Now? It matters, you matter. “You like Soundwave, too “ he mutters not meaning to say it, but unable to stop himself. Remembering the other’s scent on you and how at ease you are around the communications officer. Your little face gets even redder, hands going white knuckled at how hard you’re holding into his servo. Wants to stop, let it go instead of trying to find a problem. Sabotaging himself like he always does.

• Throat dry in a mix of humiliation that you’re almost sure he didn’t quite understand what you meant and embarrassment because you do like them both and you have no idea how to explain it to him when you can’t even understand it yourself. Wanting them both, falling in love with them both for different reasons. It’s not like you can help it, you didn’t ask for any of this. But he’s just staring at you, disappointed or angry. You’re too afraid to look up and find out.

• Your silence is answer enough and he tips his head back. Remembering Soundwave’s offer to share. Is that why? Doesn’t want to imagine you in Soundwave’s berth, but can’t help it. Jealousy twisting through him as he mass shifts even knowing fully well he doesn’t have the energy reserves to go back later. That he’s going to be stuck and at the mercy of whoever finds him, but needing to touch you. Needing you. You make a startled noise as he catches you to him, burying his face against your throat. “Star, I thought you said you couldn’t,” you murmur words trailing off when he kisses you, servos fisting in your hair. Needing to feel you against him, to prove to you and him both that you’re his.

• There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, his mouth bruising against yours, all heat and demand that you feel yourself respond to. An arm curling around his neck as one of his big hands grips your butt to crush you to him. Denta nip you bottom lip as he rumbles, dragging you down with you him and shifting over you. There’s no hesitation when you spread your thighs for him and he stretches out on top of you. That mouth leaving yours to press kisses and bites against your neck before pulling away. There’s an angry edge in his optics, in the faint trembling of his wings, that mixes unease with anticipation. Then he’s pulling your pants down over your hips, not even bothering with the closure or your shirt. Just reaching to cup you, stroking with his servos until you tremble.

• Servos sliding against you, he frees his spike and shifts between your thighs to bury himself deep in that welcoming heat. Hips rocking as he lets his head drop against your shoulder, enjoying the way you feel under him. Wanting so much more. Has Soundwave had this? Felt your tight heat gripping his spike? Those little noises you’re making as he props himself up and lazily thrusts, have you made them for anyone else? For Soundwave? Your hands find his wings, stroking over them as he ruts against you. Calming himself with the feel of you under him. Sharing? This is his. You’re his.

• Head thrown back, lips parted you lose yourself in the feel of him moving against you, stroking deep inside you. His venting growls, snarls and hitching groans twining with the wet sound of his spike stroking inside you. His mouth brushes your jaw, your mouth, the crook of your neck as you cling to him. Feel his hand gripping your hip as he goes up to sit with his legs folded under him, dragging your hips up, servos tightening as gets rougher, more urgent. Feeling every deep drive of his spike inside you hitting right there at this angle until you’re crying out.

• Wings shuddering as you tighten on him, milking his spike, he manages a handful more thrusts before he’s coming apart and driving deep to fill you. One of his hands hitting the berth near your head as he bows over you, the exertion of mass displacing and then this catching up and dragging at him. Venting raggedly as you curl your arms around his neck, trying to draw him down to you even as he’s trying to not just collapse on top of you. “Star?”

• Something’s wrong, he’s shaking against you, optics glowing dimmer than normal. Head sagging until his helm is pressed against your shoulder and he mutters what you suspect is profanity in Cybertronian before he’s pulling away enough to slump beside you instead of on you. Head turning to stare at you as panic claws up your throat.

• Rumble and Frenzy still haven’t returned from patrol. Servo tapping idly on his desk, Soundwave glances at where Ravage and Lazerbeak are resting. Knowing the two likely know more than they’re letting on. He’s about to wake them and ask when your panic crashes into him, a living thing tearing through his processor. And he’s on his feet, his chair falling back as he strides from his quarters and down the hall. Not running, but focused on that panic realizing it’s not for you. You’re safe, but terrified. Needing him.

• Hands nervously fluttering over him as he raggedly vents, you don’t know what to do or even what’s wrong. He’d said he didn’t have the energy before to mass shift, but he’d done it anyway. Does he just need energon? You have no idea where to get that and can’t even get down from the berth anyway. Hating being so small when all his stuff is so big. “Star, tell me what to do,” you murmur, leaning over him as his optics shutter, open, shutter again at your touch.

• Drifting from energon deprivation, it’s the sound of his door sliding open that rouses him. Tears a snarl from him as he tries to get up, hooking an arm around your waist to drag you behind. Or to try anyway. And then he realizes it’s Soundwave, because of course it is. Baring his denta at the other Decepticon, because like this? He can’t defend himself. Can’t defend you. Can’t stop Soundwave from ending him and just taking you.

Previous

Next

[lotties-ashwagandha]

UNQUALIFIED

rio vidal x reader x agatha harkness

you question death's favoritism. waking up in bed with them, kissing but not particularly NSFW, i wanted to write a smut fic but my asexuality stopped it at fluffy kissing and generally poetic vibes. 809 words.

You are no witch. You walk at the edge of death not by your own force but by the grace gifted to you – it is not within your power to protect, or to divine, or to guide to the soil those souls that have grown beyond this world and are ready for the next. You are, in every sense, helpless to the favors of life and death. 

Yet as you walk with death, as you share a bed with her night by night, you are not stricken with fear at the prospect of what awaits you in the beyond. You know she will protect you, death will guide you into her home with the same generosity that you have led her into yours. 

Over the centuries you have asked death why she has kept from taking you for so long – in those moments she would grow pensive, avoiding your gaze, not offering a response until you asked her again. 

Always, Rio would respond in the same way. “You’re not ready for death.” 

In illness, you would ask more eagerly. You would question her on if it was finally time for you, and again she would deny you – though there were times when she would falter, when she did not seem so sure of her own jurisdiction. “You have more to do here.” 

Now as you lay in the light of a new morning, golden light leaking in through the gaps in the curtains of the cottage you have bought in the woods for the three of you, death awakens at your side. You feel the depth of her breath change as she does, you are wrapped in her arms with your head resting in the crook of her neck and an arm thrown over her abdomen. 

Mindlessly, one of Rio’s hands finds your hair, running through its morning tangles. You feel yourself sinking into her – into death, yet instead of finding rest in a bed of soil you are wrapped in silk and sunlight. You have come to understand that through and through you reside in her favor, yet one thing you do not understand. 

“If I died, you would still have access to me,” you whisper so as not to wake Agatha, who rests on your other side. “You cut through worlds, you are able to go in and out.” 

Rio sighs. You don’t have to see her face to imagine her exhaustion at your persistent questioning, the closing of her eyes for a moment as she considers a response. “It’s early. You shouldn’t be thinking about this.” 

“About my fortuitous immortality?” 

Rio shakes her head. She takes care this time to formulate a satisfactory answer. “If you were to die, I would still have access to you, but I would never be able to hold you. You are unqualified for death.” 

“Unqualified?” 

She shifts to straddle you, looking down at you with a crooked grin. One of her hands trails down your neck to your collarbones as she speaks. “If you were dead I would have your soul. I would keep it.” 

She leans down to kiss you, and before she does: “I wouldn’t be able to do this.” 

The kiss is gentle, both of you still subdued by your exhaustion. You are hardly awake, but still you are able to feel the love in her touch, given to you in the growing hunger of her kiss and her wandering touch. She parts from you to kiss down your bare neck and chest – though abruptly she is shoved off of you, pushed away to lay at your side. 

You hadn’t realized Agatha was awake, had not noticed her stirring beside you, but now as she takes Rio’s place you feel a new craving coming alive within you. She is more rough as she touches you, hands falling immediately to grab at your chest and the kiss she pulls you into putting you at risk of gentle nips and the dominance of her tongue against yours. 

“Rio breaks the rules,” Agatha says, pulling back for a moment and sparing a glance at Rio beside you. “We are her favorites, she just doesn’t like to put it that way. She’s too just.”

Rio rolls her eyes, as if she were far from just, though you know it to be true. Through the years she has educated you on the balance she keeps, the fine working of souls. 

Straddling you as Rio had been, Agatha reaches out for Rio to kiss her. Death tilts her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Careful, kissing death doesn’t always work out for covenless witches.” 

Agatha takes no care to follow her warning. Eagerly she pulls Rio to kiss her, the same desire burning between them that has lasted centuries, that you have witnessed from the beginning and will witness until the end. 

[leclarifies]

letters (MV33)

✰ max verstappen x childhoodbestfriend!reader ✰

summary → it was confusing, even though you were continents apart, you never understood why max never responded to your letters, until you attend the belgium gp to finally get the answers you were looking for. inspired by the prompt, "why did you never reply to my letters?" "you wrote me letters?"

genre → fluffy, the fluffiest fluff i've ever fluffed.

word count → 4.4k

author's note → i have worked on this non-stop for two days, and i loved the way it turned out, maybe one of my favorite works. enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing this!!

she was always around max, either from the sidelines or the first person max ran to when he won a race, it was always her. not even his father, even though he held his father to the highest regard, but it was always her.

the little wrinkles on the edge of her eyes when she smiled at him, the way her lips would curl up, or the way she would giggle every. single. time. that he would come and hug her after every race finish. he remembers it all. and the way he would snuggle his face in the crook of her neck and asked her softly after he would win a race, 'did you see me win, schatje?'

she would always smile back with a laugh, 'of course i did maxie.'

it was always about max, her life revolved around him, whether he liked it or not. she adored him and maybe he adored her a little bit more. they were childhood friends, they were inseparable since they were little babies, their mothers being friends made it even harder for the both of them to not be attached at the hip.

she loved being in his presence and he loved her.

the divorce between jos and sophie was hard on max, he blamed himself and his career but she was always there to tell him that it's not his fault. that their decision was their own and she never forgot to tell max that it wasn't his fault, no matter how much they told him that it was.

she saw the way jos had pushed max to his limits, get physical with his own son and his way of escaping that life was run to her arms, she was there tending to every bruise, every wound whether physical or emotional. she was his rock and it was final. nothing anyone could ever say or do would change his name.

"schatje," max had gently woken her up from her slumber, and she stirred awake from his soft voice, she noticed where she was and finally remembered what happened.

max had finished lower than expected and jos had thrown hurtful things about max, she was there on his mother's couch, comforting him and had fallen asleep that way, with max on her lap, "are you sleepy?"

she shook her head, not wanting to admit that yes, indeed she was sleepy, but if max needed comfort then that wasn't a big deal to her, "what's wrong maxie?"

"nothing, you can sleep on my bed if you're tired. i can sleep here," max had brushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear but she refused, she hated taking his bed because she knew how uncomfortable the couch was, she wanted him to sleep well.

but he wouldn't allow her to take the couch, so they both slept on sophie's couch almost cuddled with eachother because they were both stubborn.

max was necessarily content with how he was living his life right now, but she made it better and that's all he could ask for. was it her smile? maybe her presence? max didn't care. the first memory he could remember from his early childhood was her, and it was etched into his memory like stone.

she was content with being max's rock, she was there to keep him grounded and she too only had memories of him from her early childhood. she wouldn't replace him for the world, he was too precious for anything in this earthly world.

but there was one day, it felt like a bomb dropped on her. her father had told her that he would have to move to korea to continue work, and she didn't know how to break the news to max until a few days before she had to leave.

she knew it was wrong to keep something this big away from max, but she was so stricken with anxiety that she never got the chance to until max came over to her house and saw all the packed boxes with their belongings.

"why didn't you tell me sooner?" max was angry, she could tell, by the way he was pacing around her room, looking at the packed boxes around. max thought he meant more to her than just a measly friend, he felt frustrated— betrayed almost. why wouldn't she tell him? why would she keep something as big as this away from him?

"why didn't you say something before? why now? why before you could see me race this weekend?" max was raising his voice now, and she didn't know what to do. her eyes turned glassy and those doe eyes max loved so much just looked so sad.

she stayed quiet, a guilty look on her face. she knew max would break from the news, and she knew that it would affect his performance, but she didn't know how to stay, how to convince her father that she didn't want to go, so yet again, she stayed silent in important moments of her life.

"schatje, can you say something? say anything?!" max yelled and she flinches, she didn't know what to say or what to do, she wanted to say something, say anything. but nothing would come to her lips. it was so hard for her when he was angry like this, it reminded her of his father and his father was deathly scary when angry.

a sigh escapes max's lips when he sees her flinch, coming close to her to wrap her in a hug. tears escaped from her eyes as she held onto max tight, "i didn't know how to tell you," she whispers into max's ear but max didn't say anything to that, just held her even tighter and he did not want to let go.

"it's okay schatje, i'm not mad at you. i could never get mad at you, i'm sorry for raising my voice. i just don't want you to go," tears started to escape max's eyes too, he didn't want to see her go. he wanted her to stay, and she did too. but the universe was pulling them apart and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

the ride to the airport was tough, being only fifteen and sixteen respectively. max held her hand the entire time, not wanting to let go, he didn't want her to leave, she was his biggest support system and he couldn't imagine her gone like that.

she was the most scared of the two of them, what if her father never returned to belgium? what if she was stuck there in korea forever? what if she never got to see his pretty blue eyes anymore?

max was the one to ground her, no longer lost in her thoughts, "can you promise me we'll keep in touch? or maybe visit from time to time?" max was holding onto her hands tightly, she felt like they would bruise, she could only smile and nod.

her mother had called her over, it was time to go. she looked at max for what it felt like the last time and left her life in belgium.

dear schatje,

hi, this is the first week that you're gone and it's bene been so hard without you here with me. i forgot that you weren't here anymore and i was expecting to see your face, but when i didn't, i may or may not have almost cried.

i miss you so much. tell me how it is in korea, is it cold? do they have bears there? what about the food? is it good? can you eat it? i heard there's a lot of spiy spicy food there? honestly i don't care about what they have there, i just care about you.

when can you visit again? can you tell me if you're ever coming back? i'm so worried about you there, i miss you... so much schatje.

written with a lot of love, your maxie.

max always handed off his letters to his father, telling his father to hand it off to his mother because apparently they kept in contact and wanted to send it off to the post office on behalf of him.

he just wondered how she was doing there.

it's been months and countless of letters max had sent, and none of them replied. he was starting to lose hope, he didn't want to think that his best friend would forget about him so easily like that, but he held out hope. he knew that she wouldn't magically forget about him now that she was there.

jealousy bubbled within him when he realized that she would be meeting new people, what if she met someone like him? who enjoyed karting and wanted to steal her attention?

no, he couldn't be thinking like that. he loved her and he knew she loved him as much as he did, so he told himself to just be patient, maybe letters to korea took months to reach?

the naviety was almost laughable but he was fine with it. he just wanted to hear back from his pretty girl.

"i do not understand why you keep writing letters to that stupid girl, she doesn't reply to you and all it does is distract you," jos had reprimanded his son, but max was stubborn. he didn't care what his father had to say, he loved all of her, even when she was thousands of kilometers away. he wanted to talk, even when she never replied.

max was in the process of writing another letter, but he never listened to his father, not about her. not about how much of a distraction she's been to his career, he didn't care. he used it as motivation to get better on the track, so the next time she saw him, he would be a world champion, that's what he silently promised to her.

it had been two years, and he hadn't heard a peep back. slowly, he was starting to lose hope but he couldn't lose hope, every single time he would send off the letters, he told himself that maybe it got lost in the mail.

max kept writing though.

max's debut in f1 was explosive to say the least, his interviews would absolutely go viral by the things he was saying in them. he didn't understand why, he just said what was on his mind.

what was truly on his mind was her.

was he not good enough for her? was him being in f1 not enough to impress her? why wouldn't she write back?

oh god how he missed her.

he still wrote to her weekly, it was religious at this point. he never forgot and he always told his father to send them off to his mother and the week after that was always disappointment because he wouldn't hear anything back.

little did he know, she never received those letters.

max had slowly stopped writing letters as he got into f1, he didn't see a point in it anymore. she never replied. she didn't care. letters didn't take years to reach korea, and he finally lost hope.

winning his first championship felt empty, the pretty girl who used to be waiting for him wasn't there for him anymore. of course, he was happy to win such an impressive feat, who wouldn't? but it just... lacked her.

max indeed lost hope that she would ever write back, but never lost hope that she was out there, somewhere, watching him race every single week and beat the shit out of his rivals. she loved watching him race and that's what he intended to do until the day he died, he wanted to impress her, maybe that was his ulterior motive to becoming a formula one driver.

all just to impress his best friend who had lost contact with him for a decade now.

"you need to stop figdeting so much," her mother had scolded her, she could only laugh nervously and stop fidgeting around. she wondered why max never wrote back to her, she had written him letters. did he hate her for moving out to korea and not coming to visit belgium?

she shook the thoughts out of her head, she was here now. for his home race, and for the rest of her life. her father had now decided to move back to belgium, because and i quote, 'i don't want my daughter to lose touch with her culture'.

she was 26 now, and she had guessed that he turned 27 not too long ago. it's been so long since she talked to him and she hoped that the spark that she had been yearning for had not been lost to the passages of time.

getting the paddock passes was not easy, it was a war and a half but she managed to snag some for herself and a friend that wanted to visit belgium and would arrive later on in the week.

"how did you even manage to get paddock passes for us?" heejin, her friend that wanted to visit had asked, she could only laugh and explain how she got them, it was a war and a half. heejin laughed along with her as they both arrived and scanned their passes at the entrance.

"i'm gonna meet my best friend here— well it's complicated. i don't think he considers me a best friend anymore, but i still do," she had softly told heejin who was a big formula one fan even before meeting her, heejin raised her eyebrow when she said that.

the both of them were walking down the paddock, passing all of the different team's hospitalities. heejin raised her eyebrow at her friend, who shrugged.

"who's your best friend?" heejin had asked as they pass by the red bull hospitality, she stopped which signalled heejin to stop as well, she looked at the redbull in awe. she hadn't been to a formula one race yet, the closest she'd been was to karting but that didn't bring on the feelings she felt when standing in front of this red bull building.

"well, he's driving the number one car."

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

max had heard a girl yell, he slowly turned his head. he was confused, he didn't have a best friend— well not anymore. she had moved to korea, all memories of her stuck in his head being replayed all over and over again.

that's all he had left of her.

the other girl shushed the girl who yelled, and that's when it dawned on max. the other girl looked awfully familiar, he couldn't quite place why she looked so familiar but she looked like her, like his best friend.

"shh! you can't just yell that out in public," she clamped a hand on her friend's mouth, "they're gonna think i'm insane!" then the both of them giggled, it did sound ridiculous but now he was curious.

was she back? was that her? who was she with? is that her new best friend? is that her?

as they both walked away, max wanted to run up to them, to ask that one particular girl what her name was. what she was doing here and who she was with but all of that died when he got approached by his race engineer.

then he forgot all about that familiar girl that he saw in front of the red bull hospitality.

max would only get another glimpse of her when it was race day, they were walking through the paddock in a similar fashion, but max promised to himself that he would approach them, that he would ask but there was doubt in his heart.

what if she forgot about him?

she couldn't, right?

and so approach them he did, tapping the girl that he felt was so familiar to on the shoulder, she had turned around and they had locked eyes.

it was as if she never left.

the sparks, they all came rushing back and then his heart started beating out of his chest, he wanted to ask so many questions, why she was here, who she was with, when she came back— why she came back, why she never wrote him back.

but the only thing that left his lips were a simple, "hi."

heejin was freaking out, she could tell. she knew that heejin was a big red bull fan too, always talking about how the team was dominating and they had the better car. she had heard all about it. but the little dutchboy she left all those years ago was standing in front of her and not-so little anymore and all those thoughts about her girlfriend was forgotten.

he looked the same, but grown and decked out in red bull merch. she wanted to laugh at how innocent he looked when he tapped her on the shoulder to get her to turn around, he looked stupid, stupidly cute.

all of those feelings from when she was back in belgium came back, she almost forgot what it felt like to be around max— her max. he looked like he was going to cry when he got a good look at her, that he finally realized that yes, it's her. the one that left him in belgium all those years ago.

and maybe she could cry too.

"maxie?" a familiar nickname slipped from her lips and she didn't get a response back, but a bear hug in return.

god, her scent. it was everything to him. he fucking missed it— miss her.

"i thought... i thought you forgot about me," max buried his face into the crook of her neck, she too wrapped her arms around max and buried her face into his chest. his voice was so vulnerable, all she wanted to do was curl around him and tell him that she would never.

she shook her head as she sank into the hug, "i could never forget my maxie," she mumbled into his chest, he held onto her tighter. he never wanted to let go, not now, not ever. she was where she was finally supposed to be, right in his arms.

once they got time alone after his race, max had stolen her away from her friend and dragged her into his driver's room, locking the door and pushing her against the wall, slamming his lips onto hers. he had been dreaming about this for so long, his lips on hers.

he didn't want to so sexual with her, no not yet. being in the small driver's room where they couldn't be free out of the public eye wasn't a good place. he just wanted to touch her, hold her, love her, make sure that she knew how much he had missed this.

missed them being together.

her hands instinctively went up to hold onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he kissed her softly. the feelings going through him were a mix of nostalgia, longing and love. he loved her for so long and it was so like her to show up when it mattered the most.

he won it for her today, to show her, that the little max she knew still had it in him to win and to impress her even with a world championship under his belt.

she felt the softness and the gentleness that max was touching her with, she knew how much he loved her. how much he care, how much he longed for her touch and she did too, only so much more.

she had so many questions in her, on why he never replied to the letters she sent or why he never sent any himself, not knowing what happened with her letters and why they never arrived properly.

but she didn't care at the moment, all she cared about was that she was safely in his arms, never to be let go ever again.

safe to say, her lips were to the point of bruising that night. max had forbade her to go back home, or to be away from his sight. he had kissed her silly, not wanting to let her go and there she was, settled nicely in his arms.

it's not like she wanted to go anywhere anyway.

the movie in the background was long forgotten, max's lips felt like they were molded for hers. he had waited for her for so long, waited to feel her skin after so long and this just felt right, it felt right when he was with her.

"maxie— mmhh— my love, stop," she had to talk in between kisses, max didn't want to let her go, his fingers were basically imprinted onto her waist. she was straddling max as he sat upright and kissed her, so softly. like she would break if he was any harder, even though he absolutely did want to kiss her harder.

max released her from the kiss with a pout, his pretty lips were red and swollen from all the kissing they did. everything in the world just seemed to fade into the background when they were together, like everyone else in this world was so insignificant for their time and they were the only people worthy of each other's time.

"but why? i wanna kiss you, i miss you. i have waited for you for ten years, the least you can do is let me kiss you until you're sick of me," max mumbled against her lips and all she could do was giggle.

god, her laugh, he loved it.

she shook her head and left a final peck on his lips, "because i want to talk maxie, we can't just kiss whatever questions we have for eachother away," she told him but he seemed to think otherwise, she had moved back to put a bit of distance in between them, to make sure max didn't go in to kiss her again.

"oh yes we can, i don't care about the questions, schatje. i just wanna be with you, just like old days, but now it's so different because in those ten years without you, i finally realized what i felt and how i felt for you and i can't wait any damn longer to finally kiss those pretty lips of yours, so please. just let me do this for another three hours and we can talk," max begged as he pulled her closer.

she couldn't imagine kissing for another three hours as they spent the last hour doing it, but with him? she would do it for another life-time if she could.

the both of them later had the serious talk when they were done kissing each other, now wanting answers from eachother. their legs were tangled and intertwined with each other's, not wanting to let go from their skin to skin contact.

"first off, why did you never reply to my letters? i wrote you so many. so many that i lost count, i would always write to you but you never replied, why?" max's voice came out strained, all of the painful feelings from the last ten years of his life were coming out, her doe eyes looked up from where she was, laying against his chest.

"you wrote me letters? i wrote you letters, you never replied. i thought you got too busy with your karting career to reply—"

"i could never get too busy to reply to you, but i never got any of your letters, schatje," max murmured against her forehead, kissing it gently after he spoke. she hummed a response before it dawned on her, she had always sent the letters to his father's address and she knew that his father wasn't fond of her, even offering her a huge lump sum of cash just for her to stay away from his son but she never accepted it, always choosing to be beside max, no matter what happened.

she looked up and sighed, she knew what happened now, she connected the pieces, "did you send your letters off to your dad?" she asked, and max nodded before it dawned on him too.

"that fucker hid the letters from you and never sent mine..."

she could only nod sadly, but it didn't matter now. all that mattered was that they were reconnected now.

scattered around them were the countless of letters max had written to her and all of the letters from her that he never received, the years of pining, longing— all of them tucked neatly away into these little envelopes that held all of those unsaid feelings.

a soft sigh escapes her lips, she looked at all of them, there were hundreds maybe. all of them posted to where she stayed in korea but never sent, always kept in a big box where all of his letters were and hers were stuffed in there in a similar fashion.

her heart clenched when she saw how many there were, there were far more many than whatever she sent, even though she did send quite a big sum.

when max had found out, he stormed into jos' house and demanded to ask why he never sent out the letters that he wrote and a big fight broke out, she had to hold of max from physically harming his own father. then they left after given the big box filled with letters.

"there's so many..." she watched in awe as all of them were sorted by date, from the latest to the earliest, max looked up at her with those big blue icy eyes of his, he looked really sad. stuck in his feelings almost, not understand why his father would do whatever he did in the past.

max held her hand gently, pulling her into his embrace, "i have always loved you, even when i was a little kid. i just didn't understand what those feelings were, i just acted on how i felt and being away from you... i just couldn't. so i sent you my love in the form of these letters."

she left a lingering kiss on his cheek, she felt sorry for having to leave all those years ago. she should've fought, should've stood her ground on how much she wanted to stay but she was just a 16 year old kid who didn't know how to, "i know. i'm sorry i had to leave all those years ago."

"don't apologize, schatje. i have never blamed you for leaving me. i have always held love for you in my heart, even if you didn't know it."

"i always knew max, and i still do."

very willing to do a part 2 to this btw, will only do it when requested tho. not proofread, excuse grammar mistakes.

[hyukasmiles]

—Hueningkai—

Letting Kai fuck you raw for the first time, finally giving into his begging under the pretense that he’d pull out, he has to, you haven’t been keeping up with your birth control.

It starts off fine, a long make out session, his fingers stretching you open, a pillow under your hips. His breathing goes shaky as he spreads your legs open, slotting them on either side of your hip.

Nerves take over him, leaning to kiss you again as he presses his fat tip against your leaking entrance. He’s barely inched into you when the risk of it all kicks at his stomach, butterflies rising in his throat as he rolls his hips forward. He could get you pregnant.

Kai and his big arms that frame your head as he fucks you. Face nuzzling into your hair, whispering cuss words into your skin as you claw at his tense, muscled shoulders. Excitement controlling his hips.

Your sweet, honeyed cunt begs him to sink back in everytime he pulls back and he’s never been one to say no, fucking you into stupidity. He ignores your pleas for him to slow down, your stupid want for him to let up and ruin both of your orgasims.

“It’s ok, honey, you can take it.” You whine that you can’t, that you just need a second to catch your breath, that he’s being mean. “Mean? Me?”

Kai lifts up your hips, sitting upright on his knees and jerking your body in time with his thrusts. In this angle he can see his precum frothing with your slick around your entrance, there’s enough of it to smear across his pelvis and your ass.

“You're pretty, honey, so pretty.” Your mouth hangs open, tiny high pitched squeals leaving your mouth as Kai fucks an orgasm out of you. “See? I’m not mean, I jus’ want to make you feel good.”

“Kai-“ Your eyes roll back as you try to speak. “Shit-“ He can see your brain haze over, mouth opening and closing as you try to speak.

Kai’s bottom lip burns under his teeth as he tries to convince himself to pull out, to keep his promise, to not fill you up with his heady cum and get to see your gorgeous cunt overflowing with it. He’s not very convincing, holding you tight enough to bruise as he goes back and forth in his head.

Kai pulls out of you with a groan, head thrown back as he wraps his hand around his angry, almost purple cock. “Fuck- I wish I was cuming inside you.” His dick is slippery with your release, a loud slick sound filling the room as he chases his orgasm. “Perfect cunt is just begging for it.” Cum paints your stomach and it’s almost as satisfying as cumming inside you would have been.

You promise him to get back on schedule with your birth control, that this time next month he’ll be able to fill you up all he wants and heaven knows Kai will keep you to it.

—

Inbox always open 🎀

[invinciblelikeu]

there’s a million things i could say about dream but when i have to condense it, really i just find it so admirable that dream was able to change and grow with grace under public scrutiny and after all he’s been through he still finds it in himself to be kind — not because he feels like its what he should do but rather he WANTS to be kind. he WANTS to be a better person. he WANTS to embrace sympathy and open mindedness and forgiveness and for that i feel like he’s one of the few in the world who despite carrying so much weight on their shoulders, they feel light because for every stone thrown at them they return it with love

[derealizationns]

"am i your wallpaper...?"

characters - ryomen sukuna x gn reader

synopsis - sukuna starts feeling unknown, scary emotions when he sees your lock screen wallpaper.

genre - fluff

warnings - sukuna might be a bit ooc, bc its so hard for me to write him...😭

from prompt special request (prompt #10) <3

"get off me, you insolent human." sukuna grumbled the moment that you threw yourself on his lap, whining about your exhausting day.

despite his harsh words, you still stayed in your place on the couch. you knew that man very well, and it wasn’t difficult to notice his smirk (though he tried really hard to hide it). that’s how you ended up with your head on his thighs, playing with the material of his shirt. in the meantime, sukuna was showing the not-so-obvious side of him—he was gently brushing his hand through your hair. even though he shows himself as an intimidating and fearful man, your lover has a soft spot for you. some people that are close with you could even say that you have him “wrapped around your finger," and that wouldn’t be a lie. right now, you’re just relaxing while the pink-haired man scrolls through his phone. he suddenly looks up at you when you start shifting and lift yourself from him.

“where are you going? i did not permit you to leave my side.” he complained, confused by your actions.

you rolled your eyes at his clinginess.

“i’m going to the bathroom; stop acting like you’ll die if i leave your sight, kuna,”you sigh with a smile. he was so cute.

you get up from the sofa and start heading towards the restroom. the moment you were away, sukuna’s smile widened. It was a brief while when he could show that he’s truly pleased by your closeness. suddenly, the king of curses hears something vibrating on the couch. he looks around in search for the source of the noise. that’s when he notices your phone lighting up. he squints his eyes, looking towards the device.

“no, that cannot be right.” your partner mumbles to himself, seeing the picture on your lock screen.

it looked like the one that you took after your last date, when you both were lying in bed. he can swear he’s seeing things, because why would you have this picture there? what was the purpose? sukuna’s chest is full of weird feelings; he’s shure he never felt before. why is he happy? Is that... the thing humans call “excitement”? ... no, that’s wrong. after all, he is the most powerful of all curses; he does not feel those trivial things, right? all of a sudden, he’s thrown out of his thoughts by quiet steps from the bathroom. your lover immediantly switches his attention from your phone to you. as soon as you see sukuna, you can tell that something is bothering him. you already know that he won’t tell you whats wrong, so you decide to bring it up yourself.

“hey, what’s got you so annoyed? you look like you just ate a lemon.” you try to start carefully and a bit playfully, but sukuna does not buy it.

“you, human. what were you thinking when you did that, huh?! i demand an answer.” pink-haired man ordered.

now you were seriously confused. you got him annoyed? but weren’t you just explaining to him that it’s just a quick trip to the bathroom, not a whole ass journey across the world? now you’re getting mad.

“the hell you’re talking about idiot?" you bark at him.

sukuna’s mouth opens but closes a second later.

“come on, spit it out already; you got something to say, then go on.” you force him to explain himself. your partner takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, like he’s bracing himself for an impact.

“am i your wallpaper...?” he almost whispers.

when you hear him, you almost choke on your saliva. what?! he acts all annoyed and everything because you have him on your lock screen?

“wha-...kuna, is that why you looked so dissatisfied earlier? i mean, i can change it if you want,  but...”

“did I say I want you to change it?” he asks loudly.

now he looks at you like you offended him. this man is truly a confusing one.

“no, but...” you try to continue, but he doesn’t let you.

“so be quiet. can’t listen to your rambling” sukuna cuts you off. you can’t help but start giggling. your man’s face is all red from embarrassment. he—ryomen sukuna, the king of curses—is blushing because his partner has him on their wallpaper. you jump back at the couch beside him, taking his face in your hands and squeezing his cheeks. his eyes widen at your action.

“you...how dare you... insolent human, you have the audacity...” he stutters, and you laugh more at him.

“you’re so cute, kuna… so incredibly adorable.” you teased and placed a soft kiss on his lips. when you pulled away, the curse man still had pink cheeks, but additionally a smile on his face.

“i like that picture.” he whispers. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ kirara’s notes . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

hi, hello, it’s me again! this is my first work from that prompt special request 🤍 i tried really hard to write sukuna as much in-character as i can, but it’s reallt hard for me to do it correctly 🥹 feel free to leave reviews! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

and thank you for reading this ~

[ashkabbom]

Thoughts of the Day - Mouthwashing

A/n: I don't know what this is 🧍🏽. I started with one idea and ended up with a completely different one. Lock your doors and windows before you go to sleep, or Jimmy will appear in your room at night.

Versão em português no wattpad: Livro de One Shots - Mouthwashing (Conta: ashkabbom)

•Pre-Crash!Captain Curly x Reader (Not the focus, but it's still here)

Synopsis/Summary: Situations from every week, questions from every day

Notes: I apologize in advance for the phrase Swansea says😭

Why had he done this? He condemned you all to immediate hell.

That day, the emergency screen, the red lights everywhere and the sound, all of that could only be a bad dream, right? It had to be a nightmare.

What had you done to deserve this? Years of work thrown away with a single action and you don't even know why it was all thrown down the drain without any prior warning.

You loved him like never before, your days with him meant much more than all the work you had in this place.

The layoff was already a problem, but this was beyond what you could handle in the future. If there even was a future.

The tears fell and you felt yourself slowly going crazy. The captain was out of the game now and in his absence they put Jimmy as an anesthetic for the immense despair in everyone on that ship, but it didn't work at all, it was the calm before the storm.

Anya looked as uncomfortable about it as anyone on that ship. Having Jimmy as captain was stressful, to say the least.

You and the others came to a silent agreement about the now captain. He was as cowardly as anyone there, but he was still second in command.

"What do we do next?" You ask, taking a deep breath, wiping your tears on the sleeve of your uniform.

"I don't know, but his painkillers will run out at some point." Anya also looked apprehensively at the captain's situation.

At the same time that you felt anger and disappointment, you also felt worry and uncertainty, you still loved him. The story made sense to some extent, but it didn't match the captain you knew.

"You.. You know how I feel about this, I think it's the right thing to do, Anya." It was weird to think about doing that with someone you like, you don't even know if you can imagine yourself doing such a thing.

She didn't have to answer, but as much as neither of you wanted to, you silently agreed that it was the quickest and least cruel option towards him.

"What a funeral atmosphere." Daisuke's voice coming from the door startles you both, making you turn to look at him.

"Well, this is almost a funeral- Ouch!" You can't even finish before Anya pinches your neck. "Okay okay, I get it."

"And how is it going? How is he?" He approaches the stretcher and looks at the captain, saying good morning and sighing soon after. "At least he's alive..."

"The painkillers help to control the pain and he can... Sleep, I think, or at least not writhe in pain and discomfort." Anya says to Daisuke, knowing that it was impossible for Curly to have any slight improvement in the situation they were in.

"But still no sign of being able to speak, and it would take a miracle for him to actually be able to say something." You say sincerely.

Daisuke nods in acknowledgement, he wondered if keeping the captain in this state for months was right. When they return to Earth, Curly could receive specialized treatment for his situation in a Hospital, right?

"The Totally Spies girls better get back into their disguises, or the Mojo Jojo will find you out." Swansea warns, leaning against the door.

If everyone was in sickbay, Jimmy would probably be hunting one of them around the ship. It's only a matter of time before Jimmy shows up and starts putting stress and pressure on everyone, so Swansea was right.

You pat Daisuke on the shoulder and then look at Anya. "You heard Jerry, girls, back to disguises." Anya lets out a small laugh, a small quiet moment before dealing with the reality of things.

"I'll give the painkiller to the captain this time, I'll see you guys later" You say waving to your colleagues before grabbing the bottle of painkiller.

Daisuke and Anya walk to the door, chatting a bit before agreeing on where each of them would go. "But isn't the Mojo Jojo from The Powerpuff Girls?" Is the last thing you hear Daisuke say before the door closes.

It's just you and him now. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, but you could feel Curly's gaze burning you alive, so many things wanted to be understood with just a single look from his eyes.

If he could say something, what would he say? What would be his version of what happened? Why would he have crashed the ship? Would he want us to keep giving him the painkillers or just end his suffering?

Looking at him, burned, unable to speak or move properly, lying on that stretcher, which was now his bed and the infirmary his room. He just stared, unable to close his eyes at any moment, you didn't know what was going on in his head, it was impossible to guess any feelings he had by looking at his face.

"It's Captain... You should have thought better about your actions before you did this to us..." You say with the painkiller in hand. The urge to cry formed again and made you feel suffocated. "You have to take responsibility somehow at least..."

[chronicsyd]

ok I KNOW I'm spam posting at this point and I don't mean to but can we talk about the Ingeniousness of the "Appointing a General" scene and how Ambessa essentially cornered Caitlyn into this role?

Because despite what people are saying, Caitlyn did not skip up there like "Ohh power! Awesome! Gimme!", this is a decision that she was Forced to make (unlike if the role was given to say, Salo, because he was already starting to lift himself up, ready for Ambessa to give him his glory. He Wants power, he Craves it).

And you can see it from the Moment Ambessa calls out her name. The first emotion to appear is shock, clearly she wasn't expecting her name to be brought up. Wide eyed, she can see these families that Have Influence (because that's who Ambessa Specifically told Salo to bring) start to nod in approval, because like Salo said, the Kiramman name bewitches people, that's All it takes to get them to agree. She's taking rapid breaths as Ambessa and the Noxian soldiers start to pound their chests, her eyes are shaking, almost like she's about to have an anxiety attack with having the spotlight thrust upon her in such a way. She looks down, almost as if trying to ground herself.

But then she notices Maddie on her right, pounding her chest as well, smiling up at her. Which in turn, causes her fellow Enforcers to nod and start pounding their chests as well. Everyone Else in the room (with the exception of Salo) Wants this from her, they Expect her to "make the right choice", and it's at that point where saying "no" is no longer an option for her, not with the crisis they're dealing with, But more importantly, not with the Status of her Name. And she looks back up at Ambessa, making eye contact again. That's when she tells Caitlyn to "come, child."

In the way you watch Caitlyn walk up to her, her face is completely numb. she's not walking up there with a smile, her face shows almost no emotion at all. and when Ambessa leans in to swear her mother justice, she simply wears a blank stare, there's no look of anger or determination or anything, I'd say it looks like she's disassociating. what's also interesting is after Ambessa's done speaking and Caitlyn turns back around, there's no sound. the Enforcers and Noxian soldier's are still pounding their chests, you can see it, but you can't hear it, which as someone who disassociates a lot from anxiety is exactly what happens when you’re that overwhelmed. It remains silent as Caitlyn raises out her hand, Ambessa watching in anticipation, before the final sound is Caitlyn hitting her own chest, the wind whistling quietly behind her. but one thing to also bring up is specifically When she turns around, because her face does change, and that's apart of her looking like she's holding herself together that we've seen from her throughout the Entirety of this act. looking like she isn't bothered by this, that she's willing to accept this new responsibility placed on her shoulders. compare that to the look she was Just wearing, that face says more "resigned to my fate", she isn't being given a choice here, not really.

This entire thing is an internal struggle for her. Because yes, she still craves revenge against Jinx, but is THIS really the way she wants to go about it? Because despite what Caitlyn's done herself, she hasn't been thrown an Army and been Expected to lead a War against Zaun, this is entirely new territory that she's walking into. And now, she's no longer allowed to back down.

Ambessa using peer presser to get Caitlyn to do what she wants, what a Genius. and what an ASSHOLE (yes I’m pissed at Ambessa and can’t Wait for Caitlyn to rain hellfire down on her once she realizes what she’s pulled).

[solaiced]

CASE 29: NANAMI KENTO'S PUNISHMENTS ARE SO HARSH!

!content!: continuation of day 14, spanking, implied multiple rounds, and not beta’d (it’s getting repetitive.)

wc: 560

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Never had you thought that your boss was such a crude while fucking. But you also never thought he'd sleep with you, so that's something done.

Here you were, pinned down on a cool wood desk by the Nanami Kento, ass pressed to his drool-worthy abs. His hot breath on your nape as his cock drilled into you mercilessly from behind and his rough hand came down on your already red asscheeks, so much pain and pleasure at the same time...

"N-Nanami!" You whimper at the latest branding, legs shaking because you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, too weak.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh reverberated through the room, so loud, it filled your ears.

“What is it? What more do you need, you filthy slut? I gave you what you wanted, and you still want more, you whore?" Nanami's hand slides into your hair, grabbing a chunk and pulling roughly, making you arch your back.

You try to shake your head, tears lining your eyelids. “No, no, please, 's sho good!" You mewl, tightening around his spearing cock inside of you.

He hums, I acknowledging your begging, “think you should-hah! you should apologize, sweetheart.” Nanami whimpers in your ear after saying that in the most honeyed tone one could muster up.

You shiver, delighted at the proximity. "M ... I'm s-so... I'm sorry- Mr Nana- ah!" You yelp at another harsh slap on your ass.

"It's 'Kento’, to you." He huffs in your ear while slowing down.

“I’m so sorry, Kento!” you sob, another, albeit softer, slap landing on your reddened ass.

"Sorry for what?" Nanami snarls, it's almost as if he had something against you and what you are.

His lovely assistant, the one he wants to put a ring on.

"W-what? A r-ring?" Comes your breathless question, and he realizes he said it aloud.

“Fuck yeah.” The man grinds his hips into your behind, teeth gritted. "You should be ashamed... Of your beauty!" He groans as he reaches his orgasm unexpectedly, pulling out to cum on your half-bared back.

Nanami paints your shirt and lower back with his semen, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Your name is half-groaned, half-gasped, his swollen lips forming an 'o', cumming so hard his head hurt and he almost passed out.

You laid there, catching your breath while Nanami's body crushed you with his weight.

"Mr. Nanami?" You cautiously whisper, unable to see if he was even conscious in this position, although you felt his breath on your back, and his chest moving, so at least he was alive.

"Hold on,” you hear him say. “Give me a moment, you 'll cum." Those words felt like a threat, and your body reacted accordingly, trying to move away from him.

“Where're you going?” The man straightens himself up and grabs the hand you were using to prop yourself up and escape.

“I said we weren't done yet."

You've created a monster.

Or maybe, you've uncovered a monster. Because the Nanami you knew has never even showed an ounce of sexual or romantic attraction towards you, so why did he fuck so aggressively? And why was it so hot that you wanted more?

Nanami's large hand spanks your ass and he hums your name deeply, “don’t keep ‘daddy’ waiting, hm? Sweetie.”

Holy shit. Were you gonna die of horniness? It sure felt like it.

[nv-alexander]

PSA: HARM REDUCTION

This term has been getting thrown around quite a bit this year and I want to clear some things up because this is a very important topic.

What does harm reduction mean?

Harm reduction is the practice of reducing Harm or risk associated with activities such as substance use, self injury, or sex.

For an everyday example: a parent who says, "If you're going to drink, drink at my house," is actually promoting harm reduction strategies. If you are going to do it, do it safely.

Having a DD or using a taxi is harm reduction. Practicing safe sex is also harm reduction.

Harm reduction strategies for substance use:

- education on substances and associated risk

- creating safe use sites

- education on overdose and first aid

- providing new, sterile supplies for use--find out if your town has a needle exchange, never know when you or someone you know will need one

- providing test kits for fentanyl, xylazine, GHB

- public education on administering narcan

- legalization of recreational use of substances to ensure regulation of ingredients

- providing narcan

- creating crisis response units comprised of social workers and paramedics for people experiencing OD or substance related crises.

Harm reduction for self harm:

- using sterile blades

- cutting in places that are not potentially lethal

- using shallow cuts

- properly cleaning and treating of wounds

- education on first aid

- having a crisis plan

- having a safe, clean space for engaging in self harm

- social worker/paramedic crisis response units for mental health crises

Harm reduction for sex:

- condoms and contraceptives

- plan b

- engaging in sex in a safe space (swinger clubs actually fulfill this)

- getting tested for STDs & HIV (also many swinger clubs check this)

- taking PreP

- reproductive education

- decriminalized sex work (provides protections for sex workers and can help limit spread of STDs)

Harm reduction is a very specific concept and does not apply to politics unless you are promoting the implementation of harm reduction practices

Harm reduction is a public health issue. It is not "well person A will be worse than person B so we will vote for person B"

Harm reduction does not present alternative actions but ways to engage in high-risk actions safely. Using it to describe a choice between A and B is a gross misunderstanding of the basic concept.

Harm reduction is "if you are going to do it, do it safely"

[0omillo0]

angst to eventual fluff han x reader request?

stray kids have a mucore show today with their recent comeback but han and reader had gotten into a major fight the night before resulting in him staying at the dorms. neither of them have reached out to the other since and he didn‘t think she would show up to the performance today but here she was front and center, a bit nervous of his reaction and uneasy to even be in his presence given the circumstances.

once the performance ended they made eye contact and she could tell he was still livid, as he sighed and looked away from her. she goes back stage to congratulate them all on a good performance and give han his favorite flowers as an apology without making it known to the other members but he just sort of brushes her off and she decides it’s time for her to go back home to their shared apartment.

it’s not until later that night where he shows up to apologize for the argument and brushing her off, while she was crying herself to sleep because she wasn’t sure where their relationship was at that point and expected him to stay at the dorms once again —> fluffy apologies and cuddles!

this was so long, i apologize 😭

— han x reader ;༊๋࣭ 한지성

| g. angst —> fluff/comfort

a/n : sorry for not answering some of your requests but I LOVED this one and I had to write it right away. I hope you’ll like it <3

♡‧₊˚🌧️

It had been a rough night. The argument between you and Han had escalated quickly, resulting in a heated exchange that left both of you hurt and raw. Angry words had been thrown, and by the end, Han stormed out, choosing to spend the night at the dorms instead of coming home to your shared apartment. The silence that followed felt heavier than any of the words spoken, and sleep eluded you as you wondered where everything had gone wrong.

The next morning, Stray Kids had a performance scheduled at Music Core, part of their recent comeback promotions. You knew Han would be there, putting on a brave face for the fans despite the conflict hanging between you two. You hadn’t texted or called him since the argument, fearing you’d make things worse. But despite the tension, something in you couldn’t bear to stay away. You wanted to be there for him, even if he might not be ready to see you.

Standing in the crowd near the front, you watched as the group took the stage. Your eyes found him instantly—he looked so professional, so focused, the anger and frustration of the previous night hidden behind the practiced smile he wore for the fans. But when he caught sight of you, his smile faltered for a split second. His gaze lingered on you, a flash of surprise evident in his eyes before he quickly looked away, as if pretending he hadn’t seen you at all. The sight made your heart sink, the regret creeping back in, wondering if coming here had been a mistake.

When the performance ended, the group bowed and left the stage, and you found yourself drifting toward the backstage area. Taking a deep breath, you clutched a small bouquet of his favorite flowers—an apology you hoped might soften the sting of last night’s words.

Backstage

The members were gathered, receiving congratulations and praise from staff and friends. You made your way over, nerves bubbling up as you approached Han, who was chatting with the other members. He noticed you approaching and tensed slightly, his jaw clenching, but he didn’t say anything.

You: (holding out the bouquet) “Hey… you guys were amazing out there. Congratulations.”

He looked at the flowers, and for a moment, his face softened. But just as quickly, his expression hardened again, and he sighed, taking a step back.

Han: (in a low voice) “Thanks.”

Without another word, he turned away, leaving you standing there, the flowers still in your hands. The hurt stung deeper than you’d expected, but you forced a small smile, not wanting to cause a scene in front of his friends and colleagues. Instead, you placed the bouquet down on a nearby table, hoping he might pick it up later. As you left the venue, you tried to brush off the nagging ache, telling yourself that maybe it was best to give him more time to cool off.

Later That Night

The silence in the apartment felt suffocating. You lay curled up in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as thoughts from the fight replayed in your mind, tears trailing your cheeks. You wondered if you’d gone too far, said things that couldn’t be taken back. A pang of regret settled in as you remembered the way he looked at you, how he’d brushed you off without a second thought. You felt foolish for thinking the flowers might fix things.

Just as you felt yourself drifting into a restless sleep, a soft knock echoed through the apartment. You froze, holding your breath as you heard the door unlock, the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. Han entered the room, his silhouette framed by the dim hallway light. His face was tired, eyes filled with remorse as he looked at you.

Han: (hesitantly) “Can we… can we talk?”

You sat up, clutching the edge of the blanket as you nodded, heart pounding. He walked over and sat at the edge of the bed, not meeting your gaze at first. The silence between you felt thick, but after a moment, he sighed and turned to face you.

Han: “I… I’m sorry. For earlier. For… for everything.”

You: (voice trembling) “You really hurt me, Han. The way you brushed me off today… after all that happened last night… I thought…” Your voice trails off as you fight back tears.

Han: “I know. I was angry… mostly at myself. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. When I saw you there, supporting me, even after everything… it just got to me.”

He reached out, his hand brushing against yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, warm and familiar, and a sense of comfort began to replace the lingering bitterness.

You: “I didn’t know where we stood anymore. I thought… maybe you wanted to stay at the dorms. Maybe you didn’t want to come back.”

Han: “I could never do that. Not to you. Not when you mean everything to me.”

He shifted closer, his thumb gently tracing circles on your hand as he spoke, his gaze sincere and full of regret.

Han: “I know I can be stubborn, and I know I hurt you. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I’m sorry for making you feel like you’re alone in this.”

The weight in your chest began to lift as he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly, as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You buried your face into his shoulder, the comfort of his embrace melting away the ache from the past day.

You: (murmuring) “I thought… you’d be mad forever.”

Han: (chuckling lightly) “No way. I can’t stay mad at you… not when you’re here, still caring about me even when I’m being stupid.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, reaching out to brush a stray tear from your cheek. The gentleness in his touch made you smile, and a wave of relief washed over you as the tension between you dissolved.

Han: “Let’s promise each other something, okay? No more fights like this. I don’t want to feel like I’m losing you… not because of something as stupid as my own pride.”

You nodded, feeling the same warmth, the same sense of home that had always existed between you. Han leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping you up in his arms once more, his fingers drawing soothing patterns along your back.

The two of you lay together in the quiet comfort of the night, speaking in soft whispers about everything and nothing at all. With each gentle word, each touch, kiss.. the pain of the argument faded, replaced by the familiarity of his presence and the warmth of his love. Eventually, you drifted off to sleep in his arms, finally at peace, knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

taglist : @hannamoon143 @intartaruginha

[revelboo]

The scavengers?! YEEEESSS!!1! my precious darlings :D They deserve this <3 can't wait to see more :) Thank you for writing this, i really needed something positive right now.

No worries :) I just really wanted to write these five goobers struggling

A Lifeless Ordinary

IDW Scavengers x Reader

• “You realize that thing is sentient, right?” Fulcrum asks, leaning to watch Spinister trying to coax their new pet into saying his name. So far the only response has been for it to lift both hands, middle fingers extended in what he suspects isn’t a friendly gesture.

• Looking up, Krok vents as Crankcase hesitantly mimics the gesture at the alien and it starts laughing like a Cybertronian would. Everything about it, that it’s bipedal, its little face, its hands and legs, is uncannily like a Cybertronian in form aside from being organic. “Of course, I do,” he finally says, servos flitting over the controls to check everything is ready to go even though he’s already checked three times while they wait on Misfire. Knows he’ll check more times, but unable to stop since the repetitive gesture keeps him focused. And from overthinking exactly how much damage Misfire can do running a simple errand unsupervised.

• “Honestly, I’m surprised Spinister’s not forgotten it’s his and shot it yet.” Fulcrum winces in sympathy when the hulking purple medic seizes you and roughly runs a servo over your head while you try to smack him, chattering angrily before giving up and slumping in his hand. “Any luck with that language?”

• Krok hesitates as Misfire comes running into the ship, a tiny container in his servos. “We should probably go,” he says right as the natives start firing on the ship.

• “Did you steal that?” Fulcrum growls, as Krok powers up the ship. Not even sure why Fulcrum’s asking, because of course he did. Why wouldn’t he have?

• Indignities upon indignities. Dangling from the biggest one’s hand, you finally give up as his big servos pet your hair and he rumbles nonsense at you. As far as you can tell, you’re a pet. Not exactly flattering, but since they’re not hurting you and they’ve kept you trapped on their ship since finding you, there’s not much you can do about it. You’d made attempts to try and play charades with the big one and after hours of it you’d decided either you’re just awful at charades or he’s an idiot. But at least his hands are warm even if his touch is a bit rough as he tries to cuddle you against his neck.

• “In my defense, they refused to sell to Cybertronians. Something about us being warmongering abominations destroying the galaxy,” Misfire says, prying open the container and immediate leaning away from the stink. “Organic food for the organic.”

• Grumbling slightly, Spinister lowers you near the box and they wait as you look inside then back at them questioningly. “You think it knows what it can and can’t eat?” Crankcase mutters as Misfire huffs. But that is something Krok hadn’t considered. Surely you do know. Right?

• Whatever they brought you looks like blue noodles and smells like dirty socks. And they’re just staring down at you talking amongst themselves, because they can’t understand you. What even is this? It’s when the one with a chunk missing from his head bends and mimes eating that it sinks in. Surely they don’t think you’re going to eat this garbage? Apparently they do as the calmest of the five gently nudges you closer to the box. And inhaling to gather yourself, you gingerly pick up a slick noodle in your fingers and bite into it. By some miracle it does actually taste good despite having the texture of a raw potato. You suppose they’re trying to take care of you and that’s something.

• Listening to the miserable sounds that aren’t even marginally better than the tantrum Spinister had thrown threatening to shoot Misfire over the whole mess, Krok reaches out a servo and rubs between your shoulders as you keep dry heaving, because apparently you don’t know what you can and can’t eat as difficult as it is for him to grasp. The rest of the Scavengers had retreated a safe distance when you’d started noisily purging the food, so now it’s just the two of you.

• They probably weren’t trying to poison you. Maybe. Shaking and dehydrated, you slump over and the calm one carefully wraps his servos around you and cradles you to his chassis, murmuring softly as you press your palms against your eyes, head pounding and throat raw. His touch is at least gentle compared to the other’s as he runs a big servo along your spine over and over. When you’re less miserable, you need to try charades with him since he seems to be the leader. Maybe you can get it through his head that you’re not a pet. Right now, you just want to soak in the warmth of him and rest.

Previous