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ghoulsbounty · 5 months ago

Note

If you’re still taking requests I would love Baby Billy with the reader giving him a blowjob in a car if you can. You can do the plot and all that, thank you! I might request more if you’re taking them at the moment.

Heaven Itself

Uncle Baby Billy Freeman x Wife!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), blowjob, oral (m receiving), cum eating (kinda), fingering, roadhead, spitkink-ish, rough oral sex, messy, face fucking, choking, gagging, dirty talk, reader is a good girl, porn with a little plot.

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: OH BOY I love writing dirty things with this weird man. I realise I took 'giving him a blowjob in a car' and completely ran with it but I hope you enjoy it regardless, Anon. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

It unfolded just as you had expected. You wished that Baby Billy would stop with the schemes, cease seeking approval from everyone else, especially his late sister's family. Yet, the allure of the coveted position of pastor at the new Locust Grove location, and the payday that would come with it, had drawn him back into their fold. You remained supportive, though with a quiet pessimism that always accompanied your husband's involvement with the Gemstones. It wasn't that you didn't like them, but they seemed to bring out the worst in him, and it was a side you rarely saw when it was just the two of you back home at Freeman's Gap.

Of course, it had happened again. Another argument with his brother-in-law, and Baby Billy had stormed out of the church, relinquishing the title of pastor and dragging you along with him to the car. It was a scene that played out at least once a month, and so when you caught Eli's exhausted eye roll as you were pulled through the doors, you gave him a silent nod. It was a signal that conveyed your resolve to sort everything out—not for Eli, of course, but for the sake of your husband's reputation and perhaps your own sanity.

Baby Billy gripped the wheel with white-knuckled intensity as you hurtled down the narrow, curving roads. The tires skidded on the tarmac with every tight turn, your stomach rising and falling with each dip as he accelerated so forcefully that you were pressed back into your seat. His eyes were wild, fixed in a furious glare at the road ahead, completely ignoring your pleas to slow down as your hand tightened around his thigh.

The rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins, mingling with a hint of fear as you clung to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your attempts to calm him, he seemed consumed by a reckless determination, his foot heavy on the pedal as he pushed the car to its limits.

With each passing moment, the world outside became a blur, the only constants the roar of the engine beneath you and his frustrated rant about the head of the Gemstones. His words came out in a torrent of anger, punctuated by the car's aggressive growl as it hurtled forward.

"Fuck Eli Gemstone," he declared vehemently. "He thinks he's so high and mighty, but he'd be nothing without Aimee-Leigh. And who made her? That's right, Baby Billy Freeman, that's who. He'd be nothing without the both of us."

His words hung heavy in the air, charged with anger. The car sped on, each mile marker blurring past as he continued to vent his frustrations. His grip on the wheel remained tight as he poured out years of pent-up resentment.

You had heard it all before. You'd listened to him lament the loss of his sister and his career, watched him pine over what he had once had, and seen him almost scream in frustration over the fact that he had to keep going back to his brother-in-law for handouts.

The weight of his struggles was heavy on your shoulders, a burden you bore alongside him with each passing day. You had witnessed the toll it took on him, the way it gnawed at his pride and eroded his sense of self-worth. Yet, despite it all, he persevered, driven by a determination to reclaim what he had lost and prove himself worthy of the respect he felt he deserved.

After each failed business venture, it always took so long to rebuild Baby Billy, to piece him back together again. You had been through this cycle before, weathering the storms of disappointment and setbacks together. Each time, you had stood by his side, offering unwavering support and encouragement as he picked up the pieces of his shattered dreams. And as the darkened landscape passed you in a blur, you mentally prepared yourself for the arduous task ahead, knowing that it would begin with getting him out of his own head.

Your hand on his thigh slid higher, your fingers teasingly dancing over his crotch as you swiftly worked on the belt and zipper of his jeans. His rant lost momentum, his gaze locking onto you with a wondrous glint before watching your hand disappear into his pants.

"Keep those eyes on the road, Baby," you instructed, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you boldly grabbed his cock through his boxers. He emitted a low groan, desire igniting in his eyes, yet he dutifully complied with your command, refocusing his attention on the road ahead.

"Ol' Baby Billy getting some roadhead, now? Alright," he chuckled, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he adjusted himself in his seat and spread his legs wider, eagerly anticipating your next move.

Baby Billy seethed through his teeth as you liberated his cock from the confines of his tight jeans, already half-hard and throbbing in your palm. You felt the weight of him as he sat thick and heavy in your hand, hummed affectionately when he pulsed against your touch.

With practiced skill, you began to stroke him gently, feeling him grow harder, larger, in your grip. Your thumb traced teasing circles over his weeping slit, eliciting a low, guttural moan from him as he instinctively bucked into your hand, craving more of your touch.

You chuckled, unclipped your seatbelt and manoeuvred in your seat so that your legs were folded beneath you, leaning over the arm rest that sat between you both. His hand closest to you left the wheel, hung over you almost hesitantly before resting on your back with a soothing stroke.

The air around you crackled with tension, the sound of his ragged breaths mingling with the steady hum of the engine as he slowed the car to an normal-pace. You smiled to yourself, inwardly praised yourself for knowing how this man ticks. You always managed to bring him back from the ledge that he put himself on.

As you took one tentative lick at his slit, Baby Billy gasped, his grip tightening on the fabric of your dress. You squeezed the base of his cock, flicking your tongue over him again and lapping at the salty tang that you craved.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, his hips instinctively rutting upwards for more as you pulled away with a teasing smile. Undeterred, you continued to stroke him leisurely, lifting your head up to kiss him momentarily on the cheek before dipping back down. With deliberate slowness, you spat a thick slew of saliva onto his aching, red tip before spreading it over him with your tongue, eliciting a low groan of pleasure from him.

"Well, if that ain't the best gotdamn thing I've ever felt," he sighed with satisfaction, his hand releasing its grip on your dress to tangle into your hair. "Hallelujah!"

As you hummed appreciatively around his cock, he guided your head down further, his hand urging you to take him in completely. The sensation of your throat constricting around him was intoxicating to him, a release of pent-up frustrations manifested in the rhythmic thrusts of his hips. Each choked gasp and whimper that escaped your lips fuelled his desire, a primal need to dominate and possess.

This dynamic between you had evolved over time, growing increasingly raw and intense with each passing year. You had embraced your role as the devoted wife, willing to fulfil his desires and provide him with the release he sought, no matter how unconventional or demanding they may be. And for Baby Billy, this unwavering loyalty was a source of comfort, a reassurance that despite the challenges and setbacks he faced, you would always be there for him, ready to support and submit to his needs.

You concentrated on keeping your jaw how you knew he liked it—slack and drool dripping down his shaft as he began to bob your head up and down with his grip in your hair. He set a rhythm that had you gasping for breath. The slickness between your thighs grew with each thrust, the taste of him—a salty bitterness—overwhelming your senses as he bullied his way deep into the back of your throat.

"Fuck, you look so good like this," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Choking on my cock, drool everywhere... you love it, don't you?" His hips thrust harder, his grip in your hair tightening as he took his pleasure from your willing mouth.

You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building between them. His words of praise and filthy words always had you burning for his touch, your desire growing with each moment as he continued to use your mouth as a cocksleeve. Yet, despite the overwhelming urge to seek your own pleasure, your focus remained solely on his.

His grip on the back of your head tightened as he began to thrust up to meet the descent of your mouth, his movements growing more urgent with each passing moment. You felt a sharp intake of breath escape him as he pushed down roughly, hitting the back of your throat yet again but holding you there, your breath cut short as his cock filled your mouth entirely and you retched around him. His prideful chuckle cut through the air, and you clenched your eyes shut, thinking of how bruised you were going to be after this but revelling in it none the less as you willed your throat to relax it's spasms.

Finally, he released you, bringing you up for a gasp of air as your fat tears mixed with the thick saliva coating your chin. You took in deep, ragged breaths, your chest heaving with exertion as you blinked away the tears. Your body trembled from the intensity he loved to put you through, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He looked down at you with a mixture of pride and satisfaction, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. "That's my girl," he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection. "Always so good for me."

You shivered at his words, the ache between your thighs was almost unbearable, your arousal heightened by his praise and the soft touch amidst the rough handling.

"Such a good girl," he repeated, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His fingers traced your lips before slipping inside your mouth. "Get them good and wet, now."

You eagerly obeyed, swirling your tongue around his fingers as he watched you intently, his gaze dark with desire and satisfaction. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he suddenly veered off the road, coming to a hard stop on the dirt path. You jolted back against your seat, Baby Billy pulling you back over the armrest with your face in his lap and your ass in the air, on display to anyone who would drive past you on the dark back road. The hand that was on the wheel now gripped the back of your head instead, guiding your mouth back to his cock with a sense of urgency.

As he directed you with one hand, the other deftly flipped up the fabric of your dress, slipping beneath your soaking underwear. The touch of his fingers against your heated flesh sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire of desire that burned hot within you.

You moaned around him as his digits glided through your wet folds, your body instinctively seeking more of his touch as you swivelled your hips back hungrily to find friction against his palm. He laughed, his head thrown back against the headrest as he looked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I know you get yourself all worked up looking after me, now," he told you, the warmth of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "But you know Baby Billy will look after you too, sweetheart. A man's got to see to his wife."

You whimpered as two fingers entered you, thick and demanding, your body eagerly accepting the intrusion as you arched against his touch. The squelch of your cunt burned your cheeks with embarrassment as he fucked his fingers in and out of you with a relentless pace. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building the tension in your body to unbearable heights.

Your screams vibrated around his cock as his thumb rubbed deliberate circles on your clit, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through you. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, as he expertly manipulated your sensitive nub, driving you closer and closer to the edge with each tantalizing stroke.

His other hand now rested at the back of your neck, holding you in place as his hips thrust up to fuck your mouth aggressively. You remained slack-jawed and slobbering over him, completely at his mercy as he took control. This was Baby Billy in his element, relishing in the power he held over you, using your mouth as a tool for his pleasure while simultaneously bringing you to your own bliss.

He liked to push you to your limits, to see how much you could take as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your throat. Each thrust was met with a gasp from you, your body straining to accommodate his relentless rhythm. Yet, despite the discomfort, you remained obedient, knowing that this was what he wanted, what he needed.

"I know you like it," he groaned, his eyes closed when your tongue began to lap greedily at his cock with every thrust. "Fuck, you love it when I fuck your mouth, don't ya? Having you here, stuffed with my fingers and my cock, you—fuck—you just eat that shit right up." His voice was rough with desire, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him

You could feel it building, the tell-tale signs of his impending release. His thighs tightened, his hips stuttered against you, and his breathing became ragged as praise fell from his lips. You knew it was coming soon, the moment when he would finally give you his load, and you braced yourself for the inevitable surge of ecstasy.

You were almost there, too. The familiar pit in your lower stomach, the delicate feeling of teetering on the edge as his fingers curled inside of you, pressing into that spongey spot that had you seeing stars. A muffled cry escaped your lips as you pushed back to meet his relentless assault on your cunt, the intense pleasure overwhelming your senses.

The sensation was electrifying, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation as you rode the waves of ecstasy crashing over you. With each thrust of his fingers and each stroke of his thumb on your clit, you felt yourself spiralling closer and closer to the edge.

And then it hit you, a wave of pleasure so intense it left you breathless. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, pleasure rippling through you as you cried out. The sloppy sounds of him fucking you through your orgasm filled the car as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure shooting through you.

"That's it, let Baby Billy hear you, now," he panted, grinning as your garbled mewls grew louder, more spit gushing around him as he refused to stop his ministrations against you. You tried to wriggle away from his attention, your cunt now swollen and clenching around his digits that remained buried inside you. He chuckled breathily, his fingers coming to a still as they slid from you. He ran his hand up the expanse of your back.

Your body relaxed against the leather seat, tired and spent from your orgasm as your fingers released their tight grip on the arm rest. You pulled away from him, sucked in a deep breath, a string of spit connecting from his cock to your glistening lips. You felt empty and groaned at the loss of fullness, but didn't have time to contemplate it before both Baby Billy's hands were in your hair, using them to shove his way inside of you ruthlessly. He fell into a maddening pace, his hips rutting as his drool covered sac slapped against your chin.

"That's it angel," he said encouragingly, his breath short as he dropped his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "You take everything I give you."

With a few more powerful thrusts, he comes with a loud shout from deep in his chest, releasing thick, white ropes down your throat. You swallow quickly, determined to take his heavy load as he desires, but there's always so much of it. It drips from the corners of your mouth, rolls down your chin as your chest heaves to suppress the rest of it. After the last few spurts have subsided, you lick diligently at his swollen tip, gratefully lapping up any traces that you couldn't take beforehand. Tucking him back inside his jeans, you raise back onto your knees to look at him with a fucked out gaze that has his chest warming.

He smiled at you with tired eyes, reaching out to cup your cheek. With a gentle swipe, he collected the salty residue of his release from your chin and guided it back between your lips. He was adamant that not a drop of him go to waste. You obediently cleaned it from his thumb, watching him through wet lashes before pulling away with a soft pop.

Your husband held your chin between his thumb and finger, giving it a slight shake as he smiled. His voice was laced with satisfaction and affection as he murmured, "Sent from Heaven itself."

#uncle baby billy #uncle baby billy x reader #baby billy x reader #the righteous gemstones #walton goggins #baby billy freeman #baby billy freeman x reader #fic request #uncle baby billy smut #baby billy smut #smut fic #the righteous gemstones smut #the righteous gemstones x reader

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 3 months ago

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I wish you would write a fic where no one abandons Aemond and he lives a long happy life with his family who love and trust him 😭

A tidbit for you, in the spirit of the game (not quite what you asked for, it's more Helaemond than anything else)

Where would I go?

Her question to her mother echoes back at her in her mind as she looks out at the lazily rolling waves of the sea, the horizon stretching on for an eternity against a cerulean blanket.

Here is where she has gone; where ever here is, she does not know. She gazes down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes in the sand, marvelling at the way it feels between them. Her slippers have been discarded, alongside Jaehaera's, somewhere off to the side, not far from where her daughter now plays. She smiles softly as she watches her little girl lift up shells towards the sunlight. How long had it been since either of them had felt it upon their skin? She cannot remember.

She turns, seeing her younger brother walk slowly down the beach towards them. His approach does not feel quite so heavy as it has over the last half a year. She feels no fear as he advances, there is no intent and no expectation of her from him. A weight has been lifted from him.

Come with me.

Helaena had refused Aemond's plea to accompany him to Harrenhal, though upon learning of their mother's plan to yield the city to Rhaenyra, she had agreed to flee King's Landing; he on Vhagar, she on Dreamfyre, his niece clutched tightly to her chest.

It had been an age since Aemond had had the pleasure of witnessing his older sister on dragonback, and she was as graceful a rider as he had remembered, despite the whimpering child that clutched tightly to her clothes.

The rumble of their dragons nestled beside each other within the dunes brings him a sense of peace. They are as much a comfort to each other as Helaena is to him. There is no certainty that Dorne can house them forever, but for the moment there is no war, no threat to their lives, no discontent, simply brother and sister discovering a brief moment of peace that they have never known before.

Aemond stops short of touching Helaena as he comes to stand behind her, despite the way his fingers flex with the urge to. He has not yet earned that right, not after how he has behaved, compelled by fear and desperation.

He eyes her carefully as she stares wistfully out to sea, the breeze gently blowing her silver hair around her head, as though it is strands of delicate silk.

"You want to know if I still see it, do you not?" She eventually asks, her voice soft.

"Yes," is all he is able to utter, voice thick with emotion.

She turns then, looking at him, her expression relaxed and almost dreamy. "You are never seen again," she repeats, "but it is because you are finally free."

Aemond lets out a breath he had not know he had been holding in, a tear rolling down his unmarred cheek. The relief that floods through him makes him feel as though he could simply float away. He needs to anchor himself.

As his hand wraps itself around Helaena's forearm, she does not flinch or pull away. There is understanding in her eyes as she looks upon him, and a promise that in spite of the uncertainty of their future, it is one they shall both live to see.

#lovely moots 💕#asked and answered #ask games #helaemond #aemond x helaena #aemond targaryen x helaena targaryen

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 8 months ago

Text

Back Home

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: None. Angst, romance, humour.

Summary: You’re informed of what happened to Poe...and it couldn’t be straightforward.

You sat by the monitor and continuously flipped through the life scans of Jakku. It had been 8 hours since news reached the base of a First Order attack on the planet and all contact had been lost with Poe Dameron and his droid BB-8.

You had barely gotten a wink of sleep. The destruction of the village haunted your thoughts and the fear of losing Poe in the field was the reason you worked relentlessly to find the Resistance pilot and his droid.

Most of the officers had retired to their bed chambers for rest but there were still several others that remained working. Leaning forward, you set your head to rest on the palm of your hand while pouring over footage for the hundredth time.

“Lieutenant?” A voice called out.

Turning to the right, you saw General Organa looking back, grim-faced. An expression that you knew to be accompanied with bad news.

Standing up respectively, you saluted the Princess of Alderaan. “General. Is there a problem?”

Leia let out a soft sigh. “Follow me.”

The two words were frightening. They could lead into anything. You followed the General to the X-Wing bay and caught up to walk beside her. Leia had kept quiet most of the way which only heightened your concern. So you spoke up.

“General Organa, what are we doing here?” The bay was operating as usual and there didn’t seem to be any apparent disruption.

Leia stopped walking and you turned to face her.

“We recovered the body of Poe Dameron.” Leia revealed.

You wanted the ground to swallow you. Your mind went blank and suddenly you couldn’t remember what Poe looked like. Mouth falling dry, your chest began to ache… then a voice made itself known as it approached.

“I think we can skip Jakku from our list of honeymoon destinations.” Poe joked - very much alive.

You turned and saw the familiar messy black hair. Running forward, you threw your arms around Poe’s neck – engulfing the man in the warmest hug. Your nails dug into his shirt holding him tight as if he would disappear again.

Then the choked sobs of relief escaped.

Poe’s eyes widened, his arms squeezing just a bit tighter. “Hey, I’m here. It’s okay.” He looked to Leia and she shook her head at him.

“I warned you not to play this trick.” She reprimanded.

A commander approached the princess and requested for her to join them in the war room. Leia nodded and left to complete her duties.

After a few minutes, you finally calmed enough to release Poe. You studied his face and noted the bruises printing his skin and blood-stains over his top. The side of his head was wounded and his trademark jacket was missing.

In spite of the obvious damage, he glowed.

“I thought I lost you.” You told him.

Poe nodded sadly. “You almost did aboard the Empire’s fleet.”

“You were taken captive? How did you-?”

“I promise I’ll tell you everything but, uh…” Poe rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I think my X-Wing is busted.”

Any other day, you might have warned him about damaging the jet but, as of this moment, you could care less about it. Smiling with relief, you grabbed Poe by his shirt, pulled him close and kissed him without a second thought. Poe placed a gentle hand on your cheek and returned the affectionate token until you pulled back slightly.

“As long as it’s not you.” You whispered. Poe wrapped his arms around your body, staying close – thankful that he had made it home. He knew that they had a new mission to find and retrieve BB-8 but it could wait for a few moments with you.

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #poe imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron imagine #star wars imagine #star wars x reader

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multifandomme · 1 month ago

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F**k It, I Love You

Pairing: Olivia Benson x Elliot Stabler

Summary: With no boundaries left to impede them, Elliot and Olivia's partnership finally crosses the line.

Genre: Smut, (masturbation, accidental voyeurism, power dynamics, choking, face slapping, hair-pulling, oral sex, makeshift restraints, teasing, humiliation, praise, scratching, biting, marking), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 5.4k.

This piece is for day 1 of kinktober under the 'reunion sex' prompt.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

––--– ♡ –––--

The boundary had always been Kathy, unequivocal, immovable, a clear-cut line in the sand that Olivia had never dreamed of impinging upon. The mask of respect that she outwardly donned however, did not extend to the shielded confinement of her mind, a place where this limit had been breached on countless occasions. Elliot existed in her thoughts in every imaginable capacity, intertwined with her, each vivid fantasy of him filthier than the last.

This twisted reality had haunted Olivia for decades, unable to shake loose from him, not wanting to, forever wishing for an alternative set of circumstances, a way for them to be together some way, somehow. Holding out hope was dangerous and yet Olivia found herself clinging onto it, bottling it, stashing it away, preserving every remaining scintilla of it, undeterred by the potentiality of bitter disappointment.

Through all the unrelenting hardships and epochs of absence, Elliot would always come ricocheting back when she least expected it, when she needed him and the missing piece that his presence gifted unto her would make her whole again.

When the news of Kathy’s untimely death had first found Olivia, her emotions had been blown into complete disarray, the initial pang of grief rendering her still, speechless. It had taken weeks for the denial to cease its gnawing of her, the sadness gradually fading away until it settled into a weight that embedded itself deep into her chest. She worried more so for Elliot, never having been one to bode well when emotions were involved and in particular, matters of the heart.

Unsurprisingly, he had not yet initiated contact, opting instead to lock himself away as Olivia secretly pined for him, a feeling she knew all too well. She wondered what would be left of him when he inevitably returned to her, wondered how long he would wait until he surrendered to the ironclad magnetism that held them together.

On the exterior, Olivia’s reaction to Kathy’s passing had been wholly unremarkable, save from the bizarre sense of atonement that had accompanied the pain. It was something that she feared was exclusive only to her, in fact, Olivia knew that it was, unable to refute the relief she had felt at finally allowing herself to set down the guilt that she had been condemned to lug along with her.

For the first time, Elliot’s salacious existence in her mind would go unpunished, no longer sullied with afterthoughts of self-hatred or regret or the vexing reality that he belonged to another. The flickering candle of optimism toppled to the ground, but it did not waver. No, Olivia doused it in gasoline until its feeble, golden flame reshaped into a mighty inferno, free of control. And suddenly, the hope that she had vehemently defended, the fantasy of Elliot being hers at last did not seem so futile or far-fetched, not anymore.

Devoid of Elliot, the yearning that plagued Olivia had only worsened, heightened tenfold, uninterrupted hours spent immersed in the refuge of her mind. Elliot lived there, uninhibited, a permanent resident, his face overlaid in a smugness that taunted her, that made her believe that he was somehow aware that he governed her every thought. And the walls of her office would watch as Olivia submitted to another sensuous vision of him, so profound, so real that it drove her fingers beneath her waistband and tore stifled whimpers from her.

Concealed behind her desk, Olivia would bask in the momentary alleviation that she had afforded herself, destined to be impeded by a knock at the door or the calling of her name from beyond the glass. And in her mind’s eye, Elliot mocked her pitiful attempt at release, laughed at the persistent throb that ailed her, his humiliation of her merely inducing a fresh influx of arousal.

The rumblings of residual cortisol thrummed without respite as Olivia resigned herself to bed, another day at the precinct having reached its conclusion. Falling asleep was always the difficult part, though Olivia had devised a foolproof routine to quell her insomnia, a way to replace the heinous images of the working day with ones that brought her contentment.

In the encompassing darkness, Olivia’s hand slid into the drawer of the nightstand, landing upon the selection of toys that lay therein, blindly assessing the choices through the instrument of touch alone. Recently, she had noticed herself gravitating towards those of the larger category, seeking to emulate Elliot in any which way that she could or at least the assumptions she had created of him. In a split second, he had successfully clawed his way to the forefront of her thoughts, Olivia so fiercely consumed that she abandoned her intended quest to grope at her breasts instead.

“What are you doing to me, Elliot?” Olivia whispered, her question fated to be swallowed by the surrounding silence, her nipples painfully rigid as they poked into the soft skin of her palms.

Olivia’s inner dialogue scolded her for being so weak, for possessing a level of self-control so frail, so laughable that it filled her with shame. But, once the steady stream of pleasure had begun its irresistible corruption of her, she knew that she was a lost cause, her reason eroding, incapable of prying herself from the bruising grasp of gratification. Olivia’s thumbs caressed the hardened buds with undying enthusiasm, her back bowing from the mattress, thighs squashed together in a hollow bid to placate her boundless craving.

The sensation was addictive, her desire only exacerbated by the image of Elliot’s muscular frame fixed in her brain, his calloused hands roaming her body, his voice gruff in her ear. His affect on her was incontestable, a sharp pain slowly occurring to her until she was forced to acknowledge just how harshly she had been touching herself to the thought of him. Her nipples ached, the sparks of libidinous torment splintering off until they established residence between the valley of her thighs, pulsating, commanding attention.

The purposeful torture that Olivia had incited saw her pussy pooling with arousal, two fingers snaking downwards to dance languidly through the wetness there. Without consulting her consciousness, her hips bucked with impatience, delighted by the newfound contact as she wrangled to keep her excitement under control. It was easier said than done, especially when Elliot’s incorporeal appearance spurred her on so tenaciously, as if he was as eager to witness her climax as Olivia was to feel it wash over her.

“Fuck,” Olivia cursed, breathlessly, a hint of anger puncturing the veil of blatant desperation, the prospect of Elliot leaving her in such a hopeless condition beginning to frustrate her. “I need you, Elliot."

Faltering exhales occluded the calm of night, Olivia’s gentle fingertips drawing aimless patterns over her clit, painted in slick, her wetness unhoused and merely accumulating further. In a frenzied bid to actualise her climax, Olivia’s fingers dipped lower, impaling herself upon them with an audible gasp, the prior languidness of her motion mutating into a pace so merciless that she struggled for oxygen. Olivia’s pussy fluttered erratically, startled by the sudden speed, the cries and curse words that freed from her lips loudening with each passing second.

“Elliot,” Olivia husked, repeating his name like a mantra as she introduced another digit and plunged into herself forcefully, mindlessly, “Harder, Elliot, fuck."

And there, dangling on the cusp, the subtlest creak of a noise diverted Olivia’s attention and subsequently levelled her pleasure to zero. Abruptly, the air in the room became frigid, icy, marked enough for Olivia’s adrenaline to be called into activation. The lack of light only worked against her, the meagre slivers that had managed to sneak through the curtains illuminating the doorway like a single votive in a gargantuan cathedral.

Olivia squinted, hyper-focused, disturbed to uncover the presence of a shadowy figure lingering in the doorway of her bedroom, approaching, closing in gradually until the flitting semblance of light allowed enough to deduce its identity, his identity.

Though ephemeral, the moment of stillness that existed betwixt them seemed to endure. And if the piercing blue-grey eyes that bored holes into hers had belonged to anyone but Elliot, Olivia was certain that she would have been positively racked with fear, unnerved by the vulnerability that engulfed her. But Elliot was an unending safe place, a space to crawl into when she could not face things alone, a space where the walls were bulletproof and his strong arms around her were enough to drown out anything and everything that troubled her.

“What are you doing here?” Olivia asked, frantically, her faculties finally re-engaging as she battled to preserve whatever remained of her modesty with the bedclothes, “How did you get in, Elliot?”

Elliot frowned in confusion, his head tilted lightly as he attempted to decipher the scene before him, stationary and silent as if he had dissociated as a means of protecting himself from the temptation that soundlessly beckoned him.

“I still have a key,” he spoke, his tone lilted as if posing a question, “You gave it to me when…” His voice softened until the words simply melted away, mouth agape as though he had forgotten how to speak entirely, as though he had forgotten everything he had ever known all at once.

The silence was unnatural, a partnership that had spanned decades slowly slipping from their grasps and transforming into something that didn’t necessarily have a name, indescribable, different. It was unusual for Elliot to withstand such quiet for so long and Olivia had begun to accept that perhaps this was all too much for him too soon. Instinctively, she drew the blanket closer to her body, a paralysing humiliation casting its shadow over her until it enveloped her completely.

“You were thinking about me,” he stated, his voice a mere whisper and Olivia could not decide whether it had been a sign of intrigue or dismay, though she had held out hope for the former. "You called out for me."

Olivia had spent years fighting to understand him, to know him and in an instant, she felt her confidence falling by the wayside. The doubt infected her, the emotion that played on Elliot’s face so utterly unreadable that she worried it was all too late, that perhaps she had blindsided him so irrevocably that things would never be the same.

“Yes, I did, Elliot,” she admitted, meekly, her eyes squeezed together from the unmitigated embarrassment of having to recite the truth aloud, “I didn’t know that you would be here and… well, you didn’t call ahead.”

“So, this is my fault?" Elliot scoffed, knowingly, the subtle rolling of his eyes signifying that his reply was intended with jest, though his effort to lighten the mood was unsuccessful.

Olivia glared at him, the palpable indignation setting Elliot's cheeks ablaze. This fleeting display of anger from his partner dissipated as quickly as it arose when Olivia caught sight of the arrogant little smirk that had upturned the corners of Elliot’s lips. She noted its distinct familiarity, one expression that she was sure to remember until her dying day, a look that almost always spelled mischief.

“What?” Olivia questioned, warily, struck by a strange sense of self-consciousness as he dared to stride further over the threshold with a powerful confidence, the fingers of one hand toying idly with the top button of his shirt.

“You want help finishing the job?” He smirked, his orbs brighter than she had ever seen them, incandescent, evocative, “Seemed to me as though you had it covered but if there’s room for one more…”

Years of pent up rage exited before Olivia had the opportunity to compose herself, a loud huff of air forcing itself from her nostrils, her jaw visibly clenched, her gaze unyielding.

“You really have no idea do you, Elliot?” She exploded, her fury raw, unbridled as she clasped the bedsheets around herself like her life depended on it, purposely denying him even a glimpse of her skin as punishment for being so flippant. “I have spent years thinking about you, wishing I wasn’t, wishing it was anyone else that I had these thoughts about. But it was you, it is you. And I refuse to lie to you anymore. Yes, Elliot, I think about you when I fuck myself, I think about you every hour of every fucking day and I’m sorry about it. And I know that you find this funny and amusing, but it isn’t. It’s been eating me alive, this, this guilt, these feelings, not being able to confide in you, not being able to have you. I…”

Elliot pursed his lips together so tightly that they tinged white, a sharp inhale obstructing the silence, the tension so heavy that Olivia could feel its physical weight pinning her in place. The world appeared to grind to a halt, Olivia briefly losing the ability to breathe as she speculated Elliot’s next move, only praying that the spilling of her darkest secrets had not been in vain.

“You want to play with me, Captain?” Elliot whispered, a sound so hypnotic that her brain seemed to empty itself of its contents. “Want to see how those filthy little fantasies of yours really play out?”

Olivia sucked in a shaky breath, “Yes."

“What’s your safe word?”

“Compass.”

The expeditious reply almost saw Olivia’s words colliding with his, Elliot fascinated by her eagerness, but more so by the way she bent to his will so effortlessly.

“Someone's prepared,” he mused, licking his lips as he sized Olivia up, his eyes raking over her like a predator bracing itself before it pounced and subdued its next meal. “I’m impressed.”

“Well, I have had years to think on it,” Olivia reminded, boldly, a stirring fervour manifesting in the pit of her stomach as she observed Elliot’s aura darken visibly before her. "But you knew that, didn't you, Detective?"

“Get over here.” He barked, coarsely, his index finger pointing to the edge of the bed, the space below which his burly frame loomed over. “Lose the blanket while you’re at it.”

Elliot’s brazen demands had taken Olivia back, the distinct lowering of his voice sending shivers along her spine. Olivia recognised that voice. That voice thrust her backwards in time, to instances spent with Elliot in the interrogation room, creeping out from its cage and instructing her to look away, to turn a blind eye. It was that voice that caused the cameras to switch off as if by magic, always coincidentally moments before he slammed a perp's head repeatedly against the two-way mirror until they were reduced to a lifeless pulp.

What Elliot was blissfully unaware of was the scene that often lay behind that very mirror as he roughed up a criminal, should his curiosity have ever piqued enough for him to peer through it. There, Olivia would be, deliberately defying his order to avert her gaze, a lip cinched between her teeth in delight as he punched and slapped and kicked. Olivia should have been concerned, terrified even given what she did know, and yet she found herself wet, arousal surging in as if it had never left.

Yes, that voice could coax her into anything, and she would let it.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” Elliot snarled, lunging forth and dragging Olivia to the edge of the bed before she was even given the chance to comply, her jaw pinched firmly between his fingers. “See, we’re off the clock, Captain,” he taunted, forcing his thumb harshly against her bottom teeth as he pried her mouth wide and revelled in the way she squirmed in response. “Technically that means…” He sighed, his expression pensive as though ruminating on something of great importance, though Olivia knew better than to trust the veneer. “I guess that makes you my bitch for a change, hm?”

Olivia jostled herself expertly from his grasp, no stranger to a power struggle, Elliot quick to conquer her with his hand encircled tightly around her neck. A wicked grin spanned her mouth and Elliot feared he was about to unearth more than he had ever bargained for.

“Then you’d better make damn sure I fall in line, Detective.”

The audacious threat burst from her lips and betrayed her better judgement, a crazed countenance staring back at her, the vein upon his forehead jutting out into visibility. Strangely, the abrupt sound of laughter permeated the space, his breath tickling her cheeks, his grip on her merely tightening. And, then pain, a hearty slap delivered to Olivia’s right cheek with such force that it left her tumbling to the ground below him. Her skin scorched in the wake of him as she battled to camouflage the tiny smirk that threatened to unravel itself into clarity. Elliot loomed above, his chest puffed out in triumph as his partner crawled to his feet in a soundless plea for more.

“You like that, don’t you?” Elliot probed, though the answer shone with blatancy, drowning in the vision of Olivia’s docility, the way she peered up at him with unmistakeable zeal.

Olivia had ascended to places unknown, certain that the brutal blow had knocked her brain around a little too much to arrive at a coherent thought, not yet.

“Answer me.” Elliot’s question yanked her back into reality, his tongue glossing over his lips before the familiar pain materialised once more and clouded her periphery.

“Yes, fuck,” Olivia hissed, a stifled half-moan spilling out as an afterthought, her cheek torrid to the touch and now decorated in sanguine. “I like it.”

The red hue deepened, though this time its catalyst was not as favourable as the previous one, humiliation bubbling steadily below the surface. Still, Olivia had pledged her honesty to Elliot long ago and intended to preserve it, no matter the cost.

“I have to say, Captain, I never pegged you as a masochist,” Elliot admitted, his gaze intense, uncompromising. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“A detective working under a misconception? How could you, Elliot?” Olivia mocked, teasingly, her bravery stripped from her as she felt her chin dragged upward, a fistful of brunette finding home in his hand. “Tell me,” she continued, dauntless in spite of the pain that plucked at her scalp and set it alight, “What did you peg me as?”

A devilish grin bloomed upon his face as he released Olivia from his grasp, albeit roughly, disentangling the strands from his digits. Wordlessly, his thumb danced its way along the full flesh of her lips, his hunger awakening tenfold as he noticed an enveloping warmth, Olivia suckling with such ferocity that his digit vanished into the depths of her mouth.

“Vanilla,” he surmised, an uncontrollable hum falling from him at just how misguided he had been in his assumptions, disproven further by the scene that was unfolding before him. Elliot withdrew his thumb, replacing its absence with two long digits instead, jamming methodically, a smirk befalling. “Good old missionary position,” he clarified, amused by the emergence of water flocking to Olivia’s tear ducts in abundance, her cheekbones hollowed as she peered up at him through glassy, half-lidded eyes. “Thought you were a good girl.”

The final two words conjured a visceral reaction, Olivia’s hand descending tactlessly to rub avidly at her clit, the distinct vibration of her moans rumbling around Elliot’s driving fingers. Positively bewitched by Olivia’s valiant effort to display her mouth’s undebatable talent, Elliot had initially failed to realise the overt act of insubordination taking place, until he did. And without a word, he yanked his digits from Olivia’s possession, a bruising slap reigning terror as it sought to deny her of the pleasure she had mindlessly allowed herself.

Elliot had resigned himself to his infatuation, raking his burning gaze over Olivia’s ravishing form, pausing to admire her perfect breasts and the way her thighs pursed themselves together in agonising desperation. It was only then that he came to know the extent of his own appetite, his erection throbbing in his trousers, his mind poisoned with sinful thoughts and every single one revolving around Olivia.

Saliva adorned the borders of her mouth, glistening as Olivia wrangled for breath, spluttering and yet saddened by the newfound emptiness that enclosed around her. Elliot tutted in disapproval, a hand ruffling through her silky hair as if apologising for was about to ensue.

“Good girls don’t touch without permission,” Elliot ruled, Olivia’s trembling reaction suggesting more than a simple coincidence as he grabbed at her wrist and willed her arousal-covered fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Captain.”

Olivia fidgeted with impatience, the muscles of her thighs contracting and relaxing noticeably as she fought to squeeze out any remnant trace of alleviation to no avail.

“Punish me, then,” Olivia offered, feigning composure, her body afflicted with itches left unscratched. “You are going to, aren’t you, Detective?”

“Yes,” Elliot acceded, firmly, his fingers working expeditiously to rid himself of his shirt, though his eyes never strayed from Olivia for even a nanosecond, engaged in a silent battle of wills. “And you’re not going to like what I have planned.”

Olivia salivated at the sight of his toned physique, ravaging him fanatically in her mind as she observed his every motion. Her gaze meandered lower at its own accord, trained on the bulging outline of his cock sheathed below his pants, her clit pulsating rapidly at the thought of it.

She did not have time to ponder further as the slackening of Elliot’s belt filled the momentary quiet, his trousers and boxers dragged to the floor in unison as she kneeled before him, gawking, mouth agape, begging for him with doe-eyes. The belt was the only thing that he did not discard of, his hands smoothing over the leather with a devious flare behind his eyes.

“Now, why don’t you be a good girl and put your hands behind your back,” Elliot instructed, his free fist wrapping itself around his cock and pumping slowly. “And make sure that they stay there, hm?”

Olivia abided, too overwhelmingly entranced by his lewd movement to care much for what he was saying and in all honesty, in this state, she would have agreed to anything at all.

Elliot resolved the proximities which separated them, towering over her kneeling frame, his hips just shy of levelling with her hungry mouth. She wanted to suck him dry, to take him to the precipice, to enlighten him with what he could have had for all these years. Conscious of bringing about any further unwanted consequences, she decided against it. Instead, she bored holes into his veiny length, watching Elliot’s face contort as he thrust into his hand with growing vigour, his cock merely a hair’s breadth from her lips and yet so far. She wanted him, needed him, but more than that, she wanted to be good for him.

“Look at you,” Elliot crooned, “desperate for my cock. That’s what you want isn’t it?”

Olivia nodded, avidly, so violently that her brain seemed to wobble around in her skull, “Yes, I need,-“

“You need to be quiet,” Elliot suggested, forcefully, his hand working overtime as he began to grunt in sporadic intervals, his hips veering closer as he stared at Olivia’s lustful visage, wholeheartedly enchanted by her.

His breath was ragged, his cheeks hued in a subtle blush as he ran his tongue across his lips, inwardly wishing that he had made a different judgement call and that Olivia’s mouth was wrapped around him instead of a tedious hand.

“Open your mouth, pretty girl,” Elliot demanded, breathlessly. “I have something you want.”

Olivia extended her tongue outwards, groaning as he smacked his cock against it before unleashing a warm rush of liquid into the depths of her throat. Elliot’s hips bucked forward, uncontrolled, as if his plan had been thrust into derailment the second he had felt Olivia’s mouth around him. And when he crashed back into reality, he was met by the captivating sight of Olivia struggling around his size, her orbs wide in bewilderment. Reluctantly, he detached himself from her.

“Fuck, Elliot,” Olivia croaked, half-choking from the aftermath of being used so ferociously. “Please, this is torture, I need to-“

“Ssshhhh, it’s okay, baby,” he reassured, his footfalls retreating until she could feel him lingering directly behind her, noting the existence of something tight encircling her wrists. “Stand up,” he ordered, though his voice appeared to be gentler than before.

Elliot ushered her to the bed in some ironic kind of perp-walk, her wrists pinned to the small of her back, manipulating her body until her stomach was flat against the mattress. From behind, Olivia’s arousal could not be refuted nor ignored, Elliot enraptured by the way it spilled outwards and painted her inner thighs. Teasingly, he dragged a finger through her dripping folds and delighted in the way her knees faltered, a breathy moan emitting from Olivia.

“Such a pretty thing,” he praised, a pair of digits circulating at her clit as Olivia burrowed her face into the pillows in a useless attempt to stifle the loudened whines that escaped from her. “So wet,” he growled, “And all for me.”

“Yes, Elliot,” Olivia mumbled, faintly, haunted by the purposeful denial that Elliot had subjected her to, the ache between her legs so arduous that she had lost confidence in her strength altogether. “Take me, Elliot, use me,” she insisted, “I’ll do anything, please.”

Olivia knew as well as he did that he lacked control on all accounts, something she had learned to manage somewhat in a professional sense. This was different, though, an instance so foreign to them that she was left uncertain of the kind of animal that was about to be released.

“All of those times you thought you were slick,” he laughed, his fingers continuing their painstaking torture of her, occasionally slipping inside of her to keep her on the edge of something more. “All of those times I knew you were wet under your clothes, knew what you wanted from me. You thought I didn’t know, but I know you.”

Olivia fought to drag her thighs inwards, to stymie his movement and subsequently permit herself a flitting moment of peace. Instead, he sank in further, his exertions more expeditious, more intentional as her knees buckled pathetically below her.

“Elliot, please!”

“What did you think of, Olivia?” He asked, smugly as she writhed weakly below his touch, unable to shake free of him. “All those fantasies,” he mused, taunting her as if he had known of her clandestine secrets all along, “Tell me, which one was your favourite?”

Words eluded her, unable to think cohesively or do much of anything at all. Fixed in place, Elliot’s hands roamed freely, inspecting her wetness, prodding inside of her, spanking the backs of her thighs when her knees began to jitter.

“Perhaps I should decide,” Elliot suggested, coolly, as if he was blissfully unaware of the way he had reduced his partner into a quivering mess before him. “Is that what you want?”

Olivia could only muster up a weary nod of her head in reply.

Abruptly, the sensations halted and her wrists fell free of the belt that held them hostage, Elliot forcefully flipping her onto her back with ease. He did not wait, could not bear to as he lurched forwards, his body solidly against her as he sank his cock into her.

“We’ve waited years,” Elliot reasoned, panting lightly as he quickened the pace. “I want to see your face when you cum for me.”

“Cum inside,” Olivia breathed, her voice strained, and Elliot had to squint to decipher it at first. “That was my favourite… what I thought about.”

Elliot grinned, revitalised by the admission as he pounded with reckless abandon, drowning in Olivia’s eyes, her pupils blown so wide that her irises seemed to flood with obsidian, possessing him.

“You’re taking me so well, baby,” Elliot huffed out, “Feel so fucking good around me.”

Olivia cried out in pain-pleasure, her body rocking with every brutal slam he delivered, his features screwed inwards as he focused on staving off the looming orgasm that threatened to take him under. But, Olivia had alternative plans for him, her pussy holding him so snugly that he didn’t ever want to leave it.

Divinity did not even begin to describe the scene below him as drank her in, devoured her whole, storing the image of her in his mind. He nuzzled into the crook of her neck, the lasting flecks of self-control ebbing away as he licked and sucked at her neck with passion unrivalled, Olivia’s fingernails pricking deeper into his skin. Admittedly, it stung, hurt like a searing blade and yet nothing seemed to compare to the pain of denying himself of her for so long.

“Close,” Olivia gasped out, her mouth agape, “I’m close.”

“Gonna take my cum like a good girl, huh?”

Olivia mewled shamelessly and Elliot hastily leaned in closer, their lips ghosting and suddenly this was more sobering that the actual act itself. It was not the union of their bodies, the coalescence of sweat and bodily fluid that tied them in this moment that scared them even a little, but the indisputable truth of what all of this meant. Elliot threw caution to the wind and met her lips, losing himself in the feisty reciprocation that she offered, her breath in his mouth, moans that he willingly swallowed.

“Cum for me, baby,” Elliot encouraged, “All for me.”

Elliot thrust slow and deep as he held her so tightly he feared he would crush her, Olivia’s nails scraping his shoulder blades with fervour, his mouth suckling a purposeful bruise into her neck.

“Fuck,” Olivia squealed, shrill amidst the quiet. “Elliot!”

White-hot plagued Elliot’s vision for a moment and brimmed deep inside Olivia, her hands clutching at him like he was about to float away, like she was reliving one of her fantasies and Elliot was not truly there. For once, Olivia wanted to exist outside of the confinements of her mind, for once, she did not have to dream of him or hope for him.

Erratic breaths filled the space, Elliot’s sweltering body pressed to Olivia’s, unified, together at last. He kissed along her neck, the protruding bone of her clavicle, anywhere he could reach as Olivia slowly came to.

Elliot rolled to settle at her side, his hand smoothing across Olivia’s bare stomach as he studied her in adoration. She was magnificent like this, fucked out, dishevelled, though Olivia could not gather the courage to greet his loving gaze. The shame and guilt surged in, the words she wished to utter continuing to fizzle the instant she opened her mouth to speak them. But she could shroud her feelings from him anymore, not now, not after this.

“I love you, Elliot,” Olivia whispered, her voice quaking with reticence. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head, willing away everything in her that told her to be quiet. “I’m sorry, but I do. And I know with the circumstances it’s probably not what you want to hear right now but…”

“I love you, too.”

Olivia twisted instantly, searching his expression for a flicker of doubt. “What?”

“Circumstances change, Liv,” Elliot shrugged, “There was never going to be a right time to say it, but I’m glad that you did. And you know…” he paused, sighing. “I was going to leave Kathy, I’d been planning it for a while but then she… well, you know.”

Elliot softly captured Olivia’s lips, drawing back to plant one on her nose thereafter.

“I love you,” he repeated, a smile appearing. “I… think I always have.”

Disbelief rendered her silent, eyes trained on the ceiling as she exhaled slowly. In that moment, Elliot’s attention was stolen by a noticeable red mark etched into her neck, one that he must have accidentally left behind earlier, one that seemed to be darkening by the second.

“You’re at the precinct tomorrow,” Elliot stated, inspiring a puzzled look from Olivia that promptly revised into apparent concern.

“What have you done, Elliot?” Olivia interrogated, pushing herself up onto her elbows and narrowing her eyes, worried more by the little grin that he now donned.

“I may have left you a present,” Elliot admitted, coyly, “And it may be right… there.”

He prodded the little bruise and Olivia clambered to her feet with her sights set on the mirror. She craned to the side, her neck elongated, Elliot observing as her eyes grew round, wide.

“Oh, you are in so much trouble, Detective.”

––--– ♡ –––--

#svu #law and order svu #svu fanfiction #olivia benson #elliot stabler #elliot x olivia #bensler #elliot stabler x olivia benson #l&o svu #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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azu1as · 4 months ago

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Hi, Tin! It's me again 🙈 how about some horror romance?) I love your ghost mentor!pbss, but I propose a ghost!Tang Bo. After TB died, Cheong Myeong developed a habit of talking to himself out loud. At least, people assumed so. And after his resurrection, this habit returned after a while. It's just a quirk so what? But then the disciples start noticing strange things happening where CM is. TB follows CM, but he is a malicious ghost in essence due to his violent death and regrets, full of resentment and looks far from friendly. CM is not bothered and communicates without problems, but more and more people start seeing his ghostly companion and they are terrified

Madlen, hello 💖 !! I'm so sorry this took me forever to get to ily ANYWAY I'm gonna go crazy!!!! YOU'RE SO BIG BRAIN FOR THIS.

Everyone thinks nothing of Chung Myung's offhanded mutterings and random bouts of laughter at times.

They think the malicious aura around him is just something that Chung Myung carries, but little did they know...

»—————————–✄

No one sees the monster until an ancient artifact finds its way into the Mount Hua Sect.

As thanks for saving their town from the demon cult members that attempted to pillage them, the village leader offered Mount Hua one of their village's well-kept relics that they found no use for anymore since there was no one in town who had any spiritual energy for it to resonate with.

It was an ancient artifact that revealed malicious demons and tainted creatures within its zone, allowing the holders to easily eradicate them and remove the plaguing monsters.

Baek Cheon did not think too much of it when they accepted the gift. He didn't know there would be any reason to use it anytime soon but still received the artifact with grace and gratitude.

However, he's proven wrong.

He returns to the sect alongside Jo Gul and Yu Iseol who accompanied him during the short mission and arrives around the tail-end of dinner time. Instead of proceeding to the Sect Leader's Office as should be proper, they first head over to grab a quick meal due to the loud rumbling from Jo Gul's stomach. The Sect Leader would understand.

((He'd also be scolded by Hyun Young if he withheld food from the children escpecially after a mission, but Baek Cheon digresses.))

They arrive at the mess hall with the artifact in tow to a splattering of greetings and congratulations. There were only a few disciples left; the others already turned in for the night.

Just as they were about to sit down, they felt pinpricks of inexplicable terror pierce them. They abruptly turned towards the entrance, swords pulled out and pointed.

Chung Myung enters. He's not alone.

Primal fear was the only way to describe what they were feeling as they made eye contact with the...thing...behind their youngest martial brother.

Its body was shaped like a human, but there was something distinctly off about it. If they had to describe it, it was as if the creature—because what else could you call it—molded itself into what it considered was the appearance of a human.

Its face and neck were a tad bit too long. Its shoulders were too wide and too sharp at the edges. You couldn't see its feet over the dark fog surrounding its steps and its hands were closer to claws as they held Chung Myung's body against it possessively.

Baek Cheon reflexively took a step back when the creature's eyes turned toward his. Instead of white, the creature's sclera was pitch black with the tiniest pinprick of red denoting its pupil.

Its head suddenly snapped at a 90-degree angle. It triggered every sense of preservation the disciples had.

It observed them. Its pinprick red eyes swept across the cold-sweating disciples who stared at the unfamiliar monster with wide eyes.

Y̴̧̳̯̮̰͖͈ͧͅó̴̡͍̱̳̰͖͓̙̬͙̞̬͋ͨ͌̒̑͗̊̽̑͊̃͟ṵ͇̤̤ͨ͑̐̀̋͟ c̴̶̣̪͖̫͕̖̖͔̘͊ͭͣ̃ͥ͐́̈̃͊̑ͫ̈̊ͣ̇͆̇̈̎͘͟ą̷̶̡̧̛̛̱͉̖͍̫̣͉̳̰͔̟͓̒̏̂ͫ̒ͥͣ̌ͣ̊ͤͬ̐̀ͮ̈̚͢͞͠͞ņ̸̸̸̲͎̻̝̞͚̻̭̜͚͚̝̹̝̟̥̃̔̓ͫͯ͒̈́͗̀̆ͩͤ̆ͩ̊͗͘͜͠ s͎͔̲̠̬̺͙̰̋͋͊̇͌̓ͮ̅͊ͧ̂̾͢͝e̵̴̷̙̩̱̬̫̙̺̖̻͕̥̿̀̽̃̍̀ͩͤͫ̀̿͆̑̒̐̔ͧ̂ͫ̽͢͢͠͝ȅ̶̷̷̘͙̻̣̮̠̱̪̠ͭ̂̒͐̎̇̀̊̽͟ͅ m̵̢̗̻̥͙͕͓̑̇̊ͧ̽ͬ̈́ͯͭ̾̄̀͘͟͠é͕̘̥̮̜̘̠͙̟̺͗̍ͩͥ̊̏ͥ̊̓̈̔ͬ̽͋͋̊̊͜͡_̨̢͔͓̼̿͋̌̿̆̕?̶̡̥͔͕͍͙̭͉̭̲̽͊̔̾ͯͭ͢

Primal fear. That was the only way Baek Cheon could explain what he was feeling. The dark, resentful fog that drifted around the creature's feet rose, surrounding both it and Chung Myung.

He had to get their sajil away from the creature, he thought to himself.

RUNRUNRUN, his brain screamed at him.

A wide-eyed Yu Iseol made the first move.

Operating on pure force driven by the desire to protect rather than being consumed by fear, she swung her blade directly at the monster. Teeth gritting and going against their body's instinct, Baek Cheon and Jo Gul quickly followed suit.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

They're all thrown back harshly. Chung Myung had his sword out, his body moving to stand directly in front of the monster.

Chung Myung was shielding the monster from them.

Contrasting the manic look in his eyes, he calmly asked them, "What do you think you're trying to do?"

Behind them, they could see the monster's sinister wide grin as it sank its claws deeper.

#is it actually tang bo or not? i'll leave that up to your interpretation 🤣#alternatively the first time they see monster!tang bo is during the fight with tang gunak where chung myung gets injured #they watch as a stormcloud of resentful energy sweeps through the tang estate and how it formed a protective shell around chung myung #maybe as it formed a shell it shoots out several poisonous spikes that cause all the tang members who get hit considerable damage #in this version i think the disciples would be terrified of monster!tang bo and his strange obsession with killing chung myung's enemies #but at the same time see it as a sort of twisted 'guardian angel'#rambled again whoops HAHHAHAHA #tangcheong #chung myung #tang bo #rotmhs #rotbb #return of the blossoming blade #return of the mount hua sect #tin writes #my ask hole #w-s-kibela #f

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hyperactively-me · 11 months ago

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Heyyy!!! It’s me again, DogHandler!Graves anon 😁😁 just for the heck of it, what if our dear Princess is riding her trusty steed out in the fields close to the forest’s edge. The whole time, she feels eyes on her as if she’s being watched. Right before she is attacked by a wild creature, Graves and his pack of dogs chase the beast away and now they both have to explain to King!Simon what they were doing with each other…. Out where no one could see what was going on? I love drama 😊😊😊😊😊

i really liked this prompt and the whole doghandler!graves character! i had a bit of a hard time conveying my ideas/thoughts for this prompt, and i've tried rewriting it, but this is the best i can do! hopefully you like it 🙏

king!ghost x reader -- forest's edge

You sit atop your majestic horse, her hooves rhythmically pounding against the soft earth beneath. The golden fields stretch out before you, the tall grass a sea of undulating waves, bathed in the warm hues of the sun. You revel in the freedom of the open air, the wind tousling your hair as you ride close to the forest’s edge.

Simon had been reluctant to let you venture too far, his concerns and protests echoing in your ears. He was not keen on the idea of you going out by yourself, especially since the attack, but you were adamant in your request. You reassured him that a simple ride by yourself posed no danger. Besides, you had his knife with you, and the knights and guards were not too far away. “I just need some alone time,” you had said gently. With a tender smile and a promise to return promptly, you convinced him of your safety.

Despite Simon’s initial reservations, you felt an overwhelming sense of liberation. The scent of blooming wildflowers and the earthy aroma of the field filled the air, permeating you with a deep connection to the land you ruled.

This is just what you needed after being cooped up in the palace for the past month and a half. As you ride closer to the forest, the scent of pine mingled with the fragrant wildflowers, invigorating your senses. You finally approach the edge, a canopy of ancient trees looming overhead, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air grew slightly cooler, and a subtle sense of unease creeps over you.

You shake off the feeling, trying to push it away, just thinking that it was residual anxiety from being attacked. Still, you can’t help but glance around, unable to shake the feeling that eyes were watching your every move. Undeterred, you urge your horse forward, the clopping of hooves accompanying the rustle of leaves underfoot. The forest’s edge murmurs with the distant call of woodland creatures.

Then, without warning, a chill runs down your spine. A primal instinct warns you of imminent danger, and your breath catches in your throat. Your horse, sensing your unease, snorts and paws at the ground.

A glance around reveals only the stillness of the woods, yet the sensation persists, an unsettling undercurrent in the air. Your hand instinctively tightens around the knife at your waist. The horse beneath you fidgeted, its ears flicking nervously as it senses the shift in atmosphere. Despite your attempts to dismiss the feeling, a quiet voice within you urged caution. The recent attack had left scars that weren’t quite healed.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to turn around and head back to the castle, hands shaking slightly with adrenaline and fear. Your horse seems eager to move away, its muscles tense beneath you.

Then, the air itself seemed to hold its breath. A guttural growl echoed through the ambiance, and your heart skips a beat. Your vision goes slightly blurry from fear, hands pulling at the reins of your horse. The wild creature, or another of its kin, emerges from the shadows, eyes narrowed and taking slow steps towards you. Panic tightens your chest as the beast lunges towards your horse, teeth bared in a predatory snarl. A strangled scream rips from your throat, and time seems to slow as the wild creature closes the distance between you and the safety of the open fields. Your horse rears back, and you lean forward to keep your balance in the saddle.

Before the beast could lay siege on your horse, a chorus of ferocious barks and snarls erupts. Graves appears with his pack of loyal hounds, galloping on his own horse with full speed in your direction. The dogs, trained for moments like these, leap into action, a blur of fur and teeth tearing into the beast. The wild creature, caught off guard by the unexpected counterattack, recoils under their relentless attack. The snarls and growls of the beast counters the disciplined barks of the royal dogs. The pack, fueled by their loyalty and training, forms a barrier between you and the impending threat. Graves swoops in, steering the skirmish away from you, ensuring your safety.

You back your horse away from the epicenter of the struggle, leading her away whilst you stroke her mane reassuringly, whispering praises in her ear. The dogs finally drive the wild creature back into the shadows of the forest, and you watch it retreat with a defeated growl, disappearing into the depths of the forest.

Breathing heavily, you watch as Graves and his pack secure the perimeter, ensuring that the danger has passed. The royal dogs, panting but triumphant, return to Graves’ side, their loyalty unwavering. Graves approaches you on his steed, concern etched on his face.

“Your Majesty, are you alright? Are you hurt?” Graves asks, his eyes scanning you for any signs of injury, his voice calm yet carrying an unsettling edge.

You shake your head, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. “No, no, I’m fine.”

You look at him, a surge of exasperation and frustration now washing over you. “I really don’t know how I keep finding myself in these situations,” you laugh humorlessly.

Graves offers you a reassuring look, his gaze locked onto you. “It’s the unpredictability of the wild, your majesty. A one-off occurrence, I’m sure.”

You sigh, guiding your horse farther away from the forest. The dogs circle around your feet, as if pushing you back home.

“I’m going to escort you back to the castle now,” Graves says, leading his horse closer to yours. The royal dogs fall in line, swarming around the feet of Graves.

“Thank you for chasing the creature away,” you say quietly, eyes fixed on the grass ahead of you.

Graves leans close over his saddle, as if trying to get a little closer to you. “It’s always my pleasure to serve, especially when it involves ensuring the safety of such a... precious ruler. And besides, it’s what the dogs are trained to do.”

You can’t help but feel grateful for the distance between you and Graves right now, as the last time you met him he was a bit too friendly with you. Although, he had now just saved your life. Oh god, what was Simon going to think?

“We don’t have to tell—”

“I must.”

You’re silent. You roll the thought over in your head once more.

You sigh, realizing that Graves is right. “You're right. It’s just... Ghost has been worried enough, and I don’t want to add to his concerns.”

“Worried or not, your safety is of utmost importance. The King wouldn’t want his wife to be hurt under the watch of a member of the guard? It’s my duty to report these kinds of ordeals.”

You glance at him, and his gaze is intense, almost unnerving. You tighten your grip on the reins, just desperately wanting to arrive home quicker, all thoughts of having a little bit of alone time vanishing. You’re grateful he stepped in; after all, he did save your life, but you don’t really want that to be held over your head.

As you ride alongside Graves and the loyal pack of dogs, the journey back is quieter than before. The golden fields seem less inviting, and the forest holds an air of caution. The sun dips lower on the horizon, casting long shadows that stretch across the landscape.

Simon is going to lose his shit.

. . .

The moment you both arrive at the castle, some stablehands take care of your horses. Immediately, you and Graves are off to Simon’s study to report what happened in the fields. You walk slowly on purpose, trying to delay the inevitable of Simon potentially blowing a fuse.

You happen to catch Soap’s eyes as you make your way down the hall. He flashes you a look of confusion, motioning to Graves beside you. You shrug, indicating that you’ll explain later. Soap pauses for a moment as if deciding whether or not to intervene, but he nods in understanding as you flash him a reassuring look and continues on his way.

The study door looms ahead, and you exchange a fleeting glance with Graves. His expression is unreadable, but you can sense a trace of tension. Taking a deep breath, you knock twice on the mahogany doors of Simon’s study, gently, as if already trying to calm his impending anger. Graves adjusts his clothes, tugging at his collar.

The low timber of his voice rumbles through the door, Come in.

Simon, in all his regal attire, stands up the moment you both enter. His eyes narrow at the sight of you accompanied by Graves. He sighs, moving from behind his desk to stand in front of you both.

“What happened?” Simon’s voice is stern, his worry evident beneath the hard surface.

Graves steps forward, his posture rigid yet composed, and begins recounting the encounter in the forest. Simon listens attentively, his face growing darker with each passing moment.

“It was an unexpected threat, but the dogs managed the creature. Her majesty is unharmed. I made sure of it.”

When Graves finishes his report, a heavy silence descends upon the room. Simon’s gaze shifts from Graves to you, his jaw clenched as the concern deepens in his gaze. The air is thick with tension, and you brace yourself for the storm.

“Is this true? Are you unharmed?” he asks, his voice hard.

You nod, giving him a reassuring look. “Yes, Simon. Graves and the dogs intervened in time. I’m fine.”

He nods, taking a moment to collect himself before speaking. He shifts his attention back to Graves, clearing his throat.

“I appreciate your, uh quick judgment, Graves. Thank you for ensuring the safety of my wife.”

Graves has a smug expression on his face, knowing that Simon has no other choice than to be grateful that he stepped in. Deep down, you knew Graves was only this giddy because Simon couldn’t be upset with him, and if it were any other situation, Simon would’ve reprimanded him.

You think that’s the end of that, but Simon continues speaking.

“However, I can’t help but wonder why she was with you alone in the first place, especially after what happened a few months ago.”

Graves clears his throat, seemingly caught off guard by the directness of Simon’s scrutiny. You shift uncomfortably, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. Simon’s gaze is still dead set on Graves. Graves begins to explain, carefully choosing his words.

“Your majesty, I was merely nearby with the dogs. I just happened to be training them, as the royal dog handler does. I spotted her majesty quite a while away, and alone, so I felt the obligation to ensure her safety. I couldn’t stand by and let harm come to her.”

Simon's eyes narrow, skepticism etched on his face. “Training the dogs, you say? Alone near the forest? Graves, you know the queen's safety is a top priority, but it seems you went beyond your duties. I thought I made myself clear.”

Graves scoffs, and you immediately tense beside him. “Would you rather me watch the queen be attacked and possibly killed?”

Simon’s jaw ticks, and even he knows that he’s being slightly unreasonable. He can’t exactly be mad at Graves. How silly would it be, being mad that he potentially saved the life of the queen? His stern expression deepens, and for a moment, it feels as if the air in the room has thickened. The tension between the king and Graves could be cut by a knife. Simon takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering.

“Okay, um, listen,” you begin, and both men turn to look at you with expectant eyes. Your voice breaks the silence that had settled in the room, and their eyes bore into you.

“I appreciate Graves’ quick response, Simon, really, I do. Things could’ve gone really bad if he wasn’t there. But, I’m also not sorry for wanting to have alone time. And before you can tell me that it was a bad idea to begin with, I am honestly willing to take that risk again. I understand that there’s always going to be risks of going alone, but at the end of the day, I need those moments for myself. I can’t be confined to the palace all the time because of fear. I trust myself to be cautious. This incident doesn’t change that, and I will not let fear dictate my every move.”

Simon’s gaze softens as he listens to your impassioned plea, but the furrow in his brow remains. Graves remains silent, a tense expression still etched on his face. Simon opens his mouth as if to say something, but he shuts it instead, saving the thought until after Graves leaves.

“Again, I appreciate your dedication to the safety of the queen, Graves, but there are protocols for a reason,” Simon responds, his tone measured but firm.

Graves remains composed, though a flicker of irritation shows in his expression. “Your majesty, I understand the concerns. I assure you, it was a matter of coincidence that I was in the vicinity. The safety of the queen is of chief importance to me and the rest of the kingdom.”

“Right. Of course. Thank you. But know, I won't tolerate any deviation that compromises my wife’s well-being,” Simon asserts, his eyes narrowing at Graves.

You pick at your fingernails absentmindedly, trying to ignore the way they’re talking about you as if you weren’t standing right there.

Graves nods stiffly, a curt acknowledgment of the king’s directive. “Understood, your majesty. My only concern was with the queen’s safety.”

With a final, scrutinizing look, Simon dismisses Graves from the study.

“Thank you again for your timely response. We’ll discuss this further later. I need a moment alone with my wife.”

Graves bows slightly and leaves, flashing you a look, the tension lingering in the air even after the door closes behind him.

Simon turns his attention back to you, his expression softening as he crosses the room to stand in front of you. There’s a mixture of relief and worry in his eyes.

“Are you really alright?” he asks, his voice gentle now.

You nod, grateful for the chance to speak with Simon alone. “Yes, Simon, I’m fine, I swear. Graves got there in time, and besides, it was really the dogs that handled the situation. I’m completely unharmed.”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I worry about you,” he admits, his voice softer now. “I can't help but worry, especially after what happened before. With Graves, and with the attack.”

You approach him, running your hand up and down his arm soothingly.

“And it was just you and Graves?”

You wince at that, registering his pointed look. “Yes, it was. But he didn’t do anything. I would’ve told you the moment I saw you if he did.”

He grumbles quietly, pacing back and forth a few times before stopping and turning to you.

“It’s time you should have a personal knight. I should’ve done this months ago.”

You raise an eyebrow at Simon’s suggestion. “A personal knight? Really? I appreciate the concern, but isn’t that a bit excessive?”

Simon looks at you with a stern expression. “After what just happened, I think it’s necessary. I can’t have you wandering off alone, especially after the attack and now this. We need to take extra precautions.”

You sigh, realizing that arguing with Simon on this matter might be futile. “Fine, if it makes you feel better, but I don’t want a knight glued to my side every moment. Only when deemed absolutely necessary, from the both of us. And only when I’m outside the castle walls. Is that alright with you?” You question, standing your ground whilst stating your boundaries.

Simon nods in agreement with your boundaries. “It will only be necessary when you’re outside of the castle walls, alone. Of course, they’ll keep a respectful distance according to your desires, but they will still be there.”

“Okay, but, I don't want to feel like I’m under constant surveillance. I feel like it could get stifling real fast, Si.”

Simon sighs, understanding that finding the right balance is crucial. He comes closer and takes your hands in his.

“I understand, love. We’ll find a way to make this work without making you feel suffocated. I don’t want you to feel like you’re losing your freedom, but I also want you to see this situation from my perspective,” Simon reassures you.

You give him a small smile, appreciating his willingness to compromise, being the stubborn man he usually is. “Thank you, Simon. I know you’re just worried, and I appreciate that. We can figure this out together.”

Simon looks down at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. He takes a breath.

“I know you’re strong, and I respect that. It’s just that... time and time again, there’s always something happening that involves your wellbeing, and it’s… it’s difficult to deal with.”

You nod, knowing full well that he’s trying not to relive his past. He lost his whole family, blaming himself for their untimely deaths. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

You lean in, pressing up onto your toes to place a gentle kiss on Simon’s cheek. “I completely understand, Simon. We’re a team. I promise to be cautious, but I also need moments to myself. It doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for you thoughtfulness and protection; it’s just about finding a balance and trust.”

Simon looks at you with gratitude, his eyes reflecting a mixture of love and concern. “I trust you with every fiber of my being. I just want you safe, and sometimes my worries get the best of me. Just… promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” you assure him, leaning in for a gentle kiss.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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minty-drop · 6 months ago

Text

• Yandere godlike celestial x reader

Both the reader and the celestial will be gender neutral to let the reader decide what they want themselves and them to be. Please do not claim Celeste as your character! They are my character oc. This is a short warm up story to get my brain ready to wright a longer story that will be posted soon!!

Summary: Celeste and y/n are enjoying a night gazing when y/n asks Celeste a question that causes them to snap.

Warning: protective behaviour, hidden obsession

The breeze was cold causing you to shiver. Your smaller body next to the godlike humanoid creature was humours compared to how much bigger they were to you.

It was beautiful out, the breeze was cool enough but not cold to nip at your skin, the temperature accompanied by the stars illuminating in the sky guided your senses to relaxing.

In times like these, you forget that you have a body, almost like your being sucked into the stars. Question in your brain come and go. But one sticks in your thoughts like glue on paper.

“My love, what is wrong? Do the stars not please you tonight? I could rearrange them if you’d like”

You heard your lover speak out there thoughts, there eyes locking with yours, those beautiful black and star dust filled eyes staring at you, as if you were a diamond in front of them.

You were a diamond to them, worth more then any star in the sky.

“No that’s alright, I think they are quite beautiful the way they are. why do you ask?”

Your perplexed face had made them chuckle, slightly grazing there hand on your back. The celestial scooted closer to you, pulling you into a side hug with there much larger hand.

“You seemed lost in thought, is something in that mortal brain of yours bothering you”

Yet again your lover asked if you were alright, there long dark blue locks flowing like they was submerged into water. You didn’t bring yourself to speak, worried that it might upset the godlike being you have come to love. You did not want to hurt there gentle soul.

“Am..am I a burden?”

They paused, eyes pitch black filled with star dust first showed confusion, morphing into a angered glare.

“Now who told you that dear..”

You didn’t want to worry them, brushing the question off to look back up at the stars.

But you’ve said to much.

Two hands snatched your body upwards, forcefully being sat down in front of the god. They were…confused, angered.

They were concealing it well

“Who told you that.”

The darker there voice got, the more you could feel the cold hand on you waist start to become warm, the temperature rising with the boiling point of there rage caged inside.

“Celeste your hurting me”

There grip tightened.

“Theres nothing to worry about my little comet, I just want to know who made my sweet one feel that they are a burden”

It started to sting, there clawed like hands digging into you waist and shoulder.

“Who ever they are, they are nothing compared to how pure as you are, do not listen to such a low life disgusting pig who doesn’t even know what there talking about”

“Celeste your scaring me”

“Because I know. I know your worth much more then anything down here and up in the farthest places of the many, MANY galaxy’s. No star can compete with you.”

“Celeste-“

“And who ever told you that. I-“

“CELESTE!”

The bruise on your waist and shoulder throbs in pain as you wiggles out of there grip for only then they had snapped out of there delusion when your presence was no longer in there reach.

Silence.

They only stared at there hands, the blackened fingers that slowly turned a light purplish the farther it went of there arm.

“I’m..truly sorry for the way I acted..do not..”

You were swiftly pulled into there embrace, there hair that was moving rapidly steadied itself with your calming presence.

“Do not feel as if you have to tell me. I did not mean to frighten you my dove.”

The comforting sensation of there hands massaging your back was soothing, the fear swelling in your being subsiding.

…

“Yours safe from everything my love”

“As long as your in my arms”

#warm up #warm up story #celestial #celestial x reader #random x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #eldritch #gender nuetral reader #small story

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dan-whoell · 5 months ago

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happy

Word Count: 1162

Phil considers his life without Dan.

Read on AO3

“Do you ever think about what your life would be like without me?”

The question comes from out of nowhere, or at least that’s how it appears to Phil. He can usually sense these things coming, has watched Dan get quieter and quieter over the course of a week or two, has taken note of Dan being even more preoccupied by his phone or his laptop. Sleeping in later, a little less enthusiastic about dinners ordered in. It’s a formula Phil has become so familiar with over the last fifteen years, and he’s gotten better at counterbalancing an imminent breakdown.

Not this time though.

Things have been good lately, really good. When they were younger, when nearly every aspect of their relationship was a total secret, they had moments. Behind closed doors, under covers, in middle-of-the-night inky darkness, they found moments of complete bliss. All pretense fell away, every bit of armor they wore for the outside world gone. Stripped bare, both literally and figuratively. In these moments it felt less like two people sharing a space and more like one person split only a little. Separate organs in one body. Liver and pancreas, Dan and Phil.

And then doors would open, duvets would be drawn back, the sun would rise. The moment would end and they’d return to their regular life. Still happy enough, still content, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Slowly over the last five years the golden moments have not only grown in frequency, but they’ve gotten lighter too. Cracked doors, giggles in between sheet changes, love at dawn and dusk. The scales have tipped the other way, anxiety over being caught feeling more foreign with each passing day, while joy has become a given.

So Dan’s question is out of the goddamn blue.

It doesn’t shake him the way it used to, though. In the past there would be fear, a near certainty that a question like this meant Dan was pulling away, folding in on himself and disappearing to places Phil couldn’t reach. All he could do was peer into the darkness and wait for Dan’s return, hands wringing the entire time. This doesn’t feel quite like that. Today, he is confident in his ability to hold onto Dan through it all. It helps that Dan has asked with his head in Phil’s lap, that his eyes are half-lidded and sleepy, with none of the frantic intensity that used to accompany questions like this.

He rakes his fingers through Dan’s hair, careful not to catch his ring on any strands. It’s a plain silver thing, so there shouldn’t be much danger, but he’s still not used to wearing it. “Define without you, ” he says, thinking very specifically about the rings on their fingers. “Are you planning to divorce me?”

Dan turns his head enough so their eyes meet, and his gaze is so warm, so full of love it makes Phil’s breath catch a little. Despite it all, this still feels like a miracle. “I mean if we’d never met. Do you ever wonder if you’d be the same Phil even if you’d never met me?”

He considers it. There’s two questions there, all wrapped up in Dan’s casual sleepy tone. One, does Phil wonder? It’s easy enough to say no, he does not wonder about any version of his life that doesn’t include Dan. The concept itself seems impossible. Why would he ever sit around pondering the impossible?

But that doesn’t matter, really, because it’s not the question Dan actually wants an answer to. Would he be the same Phil without Dan?

Again, the easy answer is no. They’ve grown so much together. They’ve molded one another. Their lives are so enmeshed they’d have to involve the government in order to pull them apart.. So many of Phil’s experiences only exist with Dan at his side. To tell a history of Phil is impossible without sharing Dan’s too.

Nevertheless, he tries to picture it.

Continuing YouTube, gaining fame but less speculation. Still closeting himself, but with a little less vigilance. He might have still ended up on the radio, might have even lasted longer, but with far less enthusiasm. Growing restless and bored as just another voice. Forcing himself to go out, meet people, chase that elusive thing called love that everyone is so desperate for. Failed dates reminiscent of the ones he went on at university. Maybe he would have met someone else, maybe there would be light and maybe he would almost relax and maybe there’d still be a ring on his finger. Maybe there’d be a house. He’s certain there would have been no debates about carpet, though. And it wouldn’t be this house, because even if his input was exactly the same, he wouldn’t have his other half to complete it. Maybe it wouldn’t matter, because maybe he wouldn’t know what he was missing.

Maybe maybe maybe, but maybe’s are bullshit. They don’t count for anything. And even if they did, none of them stack up to his reality. The man with his head in Phil’s lap, eyelids fluttering despite the weight of the conversation. His roommate. The love of his life. His partner. The person he spends the majority of his time with. His husband. If souls are real, theirs are not made of the same element, but they are hydrogen and oxygen. So intertwined they’ve created something new entirely, something vital for survival. Separated with great difficulty, but impossible to rid the world of completely.

“I don’t know,” he says finally, which is not at all an answer to the question posed. “I don’t like to think about not having you in my life.” That’s the truth. He might be able to picture an alternate life, but it lacks the sunshine of his life with Dan. Beige versus brilliant gold.

“So don’t,” Dan says, the words barely coming out from around a yawn.

“You asked the question.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to take it seriously.” Dan’s smile is soft but full of amusement. “I thought you’d say it would be an opportunity to become Striker or something.”

“I didn’t even think about that.” He can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. “That’s what I should have said.”

“Too late, Phil, you’ve shown genuine emotions. Can’t take it back now.”

“Maybe I’ll divorce you.”

“Good luck. I’m not signing shit.” He grins up at Phil. “You are stuck with me for forever.”

It might be well after two am, and the only lightsource in the room might be from the tv, and they might physically be in the darkest part of the house, but this moment feels like the sun, bright and fiery. Thinking of forever with Dan outshines every other golden moment. They are in love, and they are happy, and their life together is the most fun he can imagine.

He will never know a life without Dan, and he’s so grateful for it.

#hands are shaking a little but im being brave about it #phan #phanfic #ks writes #ks talks

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bigfan-fanfic · 2 years ago

Text

Nurture (Male Reader x Thor)

Requested by @jayfeather965 for Thor meets a shy human who has the power to talk to animals and control plants. He met him on a rescue mission from some hydra facility. Can you do a short fic on them forming a relationship as human begins to trust again and get over his trauma?

It had been decided that protective custody would be the best thing for you, and Thor had offered to bring you to Asgard.

SHIELD obviously hadn't liked that, but it wasn't up to them.

Hydra had determined that harkening back to the Auld Ways was the way forward, and their deep dives into mysticism and the occult had not only revealed the existence of Chaos magic, but also the natural magic of the world.

What better weapon than life itself?

What better equipped assassin than one who could take advantage of the most abundant form of complex life?

What better spy than one who can talk to animals?

However, Asgard is pretty much the perfect place for you to feel comfortable.

Magic is not just accepted and known here, but a way of life. Odin and Frigga are both highly accomplished mages, and their son Loki has learned from them both.

So, really, no one is shocked at your abilities, which is actually really helpful in you coming to accept them yourself. In fact, quite a few share similar abilities.

It's still hard to trust anyone, though.

Thor appoints himself your bodyguard and accompanies you wherever you would like to go.

He treats you cautiously, carefully. He never prods you to start talking, nor directs you to go anywhere unless it's for a reason that he explains, like dinner is starting, or there's a very nice secluded garden that you might like to check out.

Eventually, you start to open up to him. It's easy to talk when there's no pressure to it.

You don't talk about what you've been through. Not yet, although there has been a healer you've been obliged to speak with once a week to process what has happened to you.

With Thor you ask about his memories. His childhood, his thoughts. Simple things like his favorite color. You're still pretty shy, so these questions take great effort to ask, and Thor recognizes that.

He takes his time, pondering each question and giving an honest answer, full of introspection. Sometimes a joke.

Thor slowly becomes easy to talk to. He smiles more frequently, and starts to engage you, and now you don't flinch when he asks you something by surprise.

He too opens up, the more personal questions you ask him getting honest answers, sometimes pulling deep emotion from him.

You talk to him about your treatment, about your past. He holds you while you cry, and you take him in your arms when he does.

And one morning, he takes you to a garden you haven't seen yet, and you lean forward to kiss him.

He freezes. Gently stops you.

"I would be lying if I said I did not care for you. But it would be selfish of me to allow this without inquiring... my friendship, my care for you. It does not come with the expectation of anything else."

He blushes. "Though I would love the opportunity to court you, I will not hold it against you if you decide not to - what I'm trying to say is that... you have my respect, my friendship, and my protection, and you do not need to feel the need to repay me in this way. I just need to make sure you know this."

You nod. "I.. this is because I like you, Thor. I like being around you. I like seeing you every day. I like listening to you. Talking to you. I love you."

He smiles softly, eyes prickling with unshed tears. "This... it overjoys me. I fear that if we embrace, I shall never wish to let you go. I promise you now that I will do whatever I can to help you. Even if that means giving you space. Just command me, and it shall be done, my prince."

You blush. "I... I can't promise that I'll ever be fully okay. That I'll stop being afraid of everything. All I know is that I want to try. And I'll keep trying."

He's so close to you right now.

And somehow, when you move slowly, deliberately, your eyes open, to kiss him - it means all the more than rushing into it blindly and impulsively.

Your eyelids flutter shut as your lips meet his, and he's right.

You may never wish to let go.

#male reader #thor x male reader #thor x reader #thor headcanons #marvel x male reader #marvel headcanons #headcanons

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leandra-kinard · 7 months ago

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So. There's been a lot of speculation, and a lot of hot and lukewarm and some honest and valid takes about the new trailer and the potential of what might go down next ep.

I've been thinking thoughts, and I have my own personal stance on the matter. And no, I will not be 'taking criticism', because this is the way I view things in general, and it won't change. So this isn't me opening up a debate about this, this is just me sharing my personal views, which you absolutely can agree or disagree with. (So if your views on cheating are vastly different from mine, don't come at me telling me how wrong I am, I'm not doing that at you either)

That being said, here are my thoughts and beliefs.

Kissing isn't (automatically) cheating. For me, it highly, highly depends on the accompanying circumstances. There are kisses for shits and giggles that are not cheating. There are kisses happening under heavy influence of whatever substance - something that can render you legally not responsible for a lot of things, so how does it make you responsible for a moment's poor choice? There are kisses that are done deliberately with intention and feelings/high physical attraction involved, and THAT is cheating. When we look at the Buck/Lucy kiss, I didn't see it as huge a deal as many of the fandom did. The kiss itself somewhat fell into the second category. But what made it at the very least borderline cheating was the fact that Buck made a secret of it afterwards. Had he said "Look, something happened last night. I was drunk, then Lucy kissed me, and I didn't instantly pull back, but I didn't want to kiss her again or anything. I have no feelings for her whatsoever and I will watch myself in future a whole lot more to notice any signs of flirting, which, in hindsight, there were. I'm sorry." - then I think that's still grounds for a partner to be mad, sad, disappointed, but it's not really full-on cheating. Not in my book, by my definition.

Emotional cheating is much worse than physical cheating Being in love with someone and knowing it, imagining yourself to be with that other person, THAT is much more cheating by my definition than a fleeting kiss. And sometimes, depending on the circumstances, maybe even more than a drunken fumble or one night stand, but that is a very complex question. However, emotional cheating means you're not really in it with your current partner, pining for someone else but settling for what you can have out of convenience, fear of being left behind or some other highly egoistical motivation. That really sucks. (I've seen that take expressed on my dashboard as well, though with slightly different nuance to what I feel and believe, but pretty close)

So, taking these two of my underlying beliefs as the basis, what can I see happen in the next episode that would leave me feel okay with it, or happy about it, and what would make me feel iffy about it?

Let's start with the iffy.

Buck:

If, at any point in their drunken Hangover-movie escapades Buck and Eddie kiss, full on kiss (with maybe a little bit of tongue), and that kicks something lose in Buck, I would utterly hate that. Not that I wouldn't find it plausible that a kiss like that would trigger him realizing romantic feelings for Eddie, but that it happens now.

Someone else made a long post about negative stereotypes about bisexuals, and I agree. This is the promiscuity/bisexuals can't be trusted to be faithful stereotype, and I don't want Buck to ever be seen in that light.

Also, Buck JUST (and that post mentioned that too) convinced Tommy to come with him to the wedding, that he's ready for something... only to emotionally cheat (because it's that aspect for me rather than the kiss itself) on him the very next opportunity?

"But Tommy and Buck aren't in a relationship yet," I heard someone say, and well, yes. But this isn't REAL LIFE. It's writing. Things are crafted in a certain way to form a story, and stories have a purpose. The narrative gave us an arc where Buck seemingly wasn't ready for a relationship with a man yet, where he fucked up and had to fix that, had to take a leap and take some courage to make it work.

Just purely from a narrative standpoint, it would be so inconsistent to reverse that healthy step forward just one episode later.

From what we know about the episode, it also doesn't look like he's breaking up with Tommy in that episode. A lovely, potentially dramatic moment where Buck kisses Tommy in front of everyone as a means of 'coming out' is highly implied/likely. So that would mean him being aware of some feelings towards Eddie and still going through with that. And yeah. No. I'd really, really fucking hate that.

Eddie:

If they kiss at some point and it kicks something loose in Eddie, and he then goes back to Marisol... I'd have much less of a problem with that because it could still be explained and justified with him just being in utter panic about coming out. It would match the catholic guilt arc, and all his previous attempts at conforming to heteronormativity... BUT, if the relationship just continued as is and he'd actively use her as beard that would be shitty, even for poor confused, repressed, closeted Eddie.

The Not Iffy

On with Eddie:

If that kiss brings something to the surface in Eddie and he then breaks up with Marisol one episode later I would not consider that cheating or poor morals or anything of the sort. He wasn't aware of it until that moment, and as soon as he is aware of it and has had a little bit of time to process it, he draws the right consequences from it and breaks off a relationship he's not fully in.

So this would actually be fine to me. This could be the kick starter for a potentially long and complex arc for Eddie to a) come to terms with his sexuality and b) pine for Buck from a distance, because Buck is with Tommy and c) eventually, when the time is right, for Buddie to go canon.

Buck:

The kiss itself wasn't a serious or real kiss. I'd be okay with it, if it was some silly, exaggerated "MWAH" smack of the lips kiss, prompted by someone or something around them - I dunno, maybe one of the women there saying "Aww you're such a cute couple" and they going in for it just for shits and giggles; or Buck gushing about Tommy and what a great kisser he is and Eddie drunkenly, outwardly jokingly saying "Hey, I'm a great kisser too!" and them jokingly leaning in for a smooch, again, for shits and giggles.

Buck afterwards doesn't even remember it because it meant nothing in that moment, and so he's neither seriously physically nor emotionally cheating on Tommy in the slightest.

"But Buck has deep feelings for Eddie. How can he kiss him and not realize them?"

Well, see, Buck has been around Eddie for almost 6 years now and not realized them. They are so, so far past that getting to know and falling in love phase that it makes it a bazillion times more complicated to distinguish those deep platonic feelings from deep romantic feelings (because, what it comes down to in both instances is a deep bond; the bond of love you feel after years of dating isn't that different from a deep platonic bond. Again, Eros vs. Pragma and all that).

But Buck is *in love* with Tommy, he's just entered that exciting, chemically turbulent process of falling in love with someone which, with all the newly formed neural connections and all those hormones overrides anything else that has long since been present and is only now presented with the opportunity to take on a new nuance. Of course he doesn't get it, and he likely won't get it until much, much later, when he's falling out of love with Tommy again for whatever reason, or they break up amicably for whatever reason.

And THIS again is something that could easily go into the iffy, because I would really fucking HATE the implication that Buck needs to break up with Tommy to be with his One True Love. I don't want this to be a difficult and painful choice.

IF (when) Buddie goes canon, I want them both to be ready and free for it and not accidentally pushed towards it, or struggle with a guilty conscience for it, or hurt someone else about it. (Marisol wouldn't count in that context as Eddie would have broken up with her months ago and gone on his own long self-discovery trip).

So yes, even if for slightly different reasons, and even if my views on what constitutes 'cheating' may differ from a lot of yours, I agree that any actual MUTUAL feelings realization right now, under these external circumstances, would totally tarnish the beginning of the Buddie relationship.

Which also makes me hopeful it won't happen in such a way. Up until now, the writing has been extremely solid, and Buck's coming out arc has been done with so much care. I doubt they'd do something that ruins it. (But I'm not 100% sure of it either).

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 spoilers #this is not an invitation for debate #respectfual nuanced exchange and dialog #yes #but don't lecture me on my morals #I'm very solid and confident in them

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theveniceangel · 20 days ago

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Tom And Jerry In Monster Mayhem, Chapter 1.

*Our story begins on a dark full moon night , we hear the bloodcurdling howls of a wolf as we see the twisted trees of a dark, spooky forest*

*At that moment, we see a timid bluish gray cat, with light gray patches on his stomach and face, and white patches on his paws and muzzle walking through the woods, he has a look of fear on his face*

*He looks around the area aimlessly as he walks the dark path of the forest*

*We then hear a distant voice*

???: Tom..

*The cat's ears perk up at this and he starts looking around*

???: Tom...

Tom: Huh..?

*As he looks around, he sees a hill in the distance*

*He gasps and runs towards it*

*As he runs towards the hill, the voice gets louder*

???: Tom...!

*Upon reaching the hill, Tom sees a black cat with gray paws, and a pink bow standing at the top of the hill, they have their back turned to him as the light of the full moon shines on them*

*Tom's eyes go wide in surprise upon seeing them*

Tom: ...Peony..?

Peony: ...Tom...

Tom: Peony!

*Tom quickly runs towards Peony, he breathes heavily as he rushes up the hill*

*As he gets closer to her, he starts to slowly approach her*

Tom: Peony...?

*He reaches his hand towards Peony as she slowly turns towards him, her blue eyes glisten in the moonlight as she looks at him*

Peony: Tom..!

*They smile at each other as they take each other's hands*

*Tom puts his arms around Peony's waist as Peony puts her hands on Tom's shoulders*

*The two start to participate in a slow dance as a hauntingly beautiful song echoes throughout the area*

*They lovingly stare into each other's eyes as they continue their dance*

*They smile and nuzzle each other's noses*

*As they continue to stare into each other's eyes, Peony's eyes start to change, they become purple, glassy and lifeless*

*Tom gets a worried expression on his face*

Tom: What the-?

*Peony gets a nervous expression on her face*

Peony: Tom..?

*At that moment, darkness starts to surround them*

*Peony stares at Tom in fear*

Peony: T-Tom!?

*At that moment, the darkness starts to engulf her*

*Tom stares at this in horror and tries to grab her*

Tom: No, No! Peony! PEONY!! *He shouts in horror and devastation*

*But it was no use, before you know it, Peony vanished as she was pulled into the darkness*

*Tom starts to hyperventilate, he starts clawing at the darkness, trying to get her back*

Tom: No, no! No please no!

*He then hears a villainous laugh, mockingly echoing throughout the area*

Tom: Who’s there?! C’mon out!

*the cackling continues, but the source of the sound does not reveal itself*

Tom: Gimme my girl back!

*he charges forward, trying to follow the sound*

*He desperately searches around the area, but he can't seem to find the person laughing*

*The laughter continues, seemingly mocking the poor cat at this point, this angers him*

Tom: I swear, I don't know who you are, but if you don't give me my girl back, I'll-!

*At that moment, lightning flashes through the area, accompanied by the roaring sound of thunder*

*Tom jumps up in fear and yowls*

*As he's breathing heavily, he suddenly hears a fearful cry in the dark*

Peony: Help!! Somebody!!

*Tom's ears perk up upon hearing this*

Tom: Peony!? I’m comin’!

*He immediately rushes away, trying to find his beloved*

Peony: Help me!!

Tom: Peony, where are you!? *He shouts in a desperate tone*

*As he's running, the lightning flashes again, only this time it appears to be brighter than before*

*The bolt strikes a tree, knocking it to the ground, inches away from Tom*

*Tom shouts in fright upon seeing this and jumps back, his fur standing on end*

*While he's taking a moment to catch his breath, he sees a bright light in the distance*

Tom: Huh..?Peony: Help me!!

*With narrowed eyes, Tom follows the light and his girlfriend’s terrified screams*

*The lightning flashes again, this time brighter than the last*

*He manages to reach the light, but what he sees shocks him to his very core*

*Right in front of him is a silhouette of Peony, only it appears to be made out of electricity, his eyes go wide in shock*

Tom: Peony..?

Peony: Tom!

*The silhouette tries to reach out to him, as it does this, a large claw mark appears on her chest*

Peony: Tom, help me!! *She screams at the top of her lungs*

*We then cut to a different scene, Tom screams in fright as he sits up**As he's breathing heavily, he looks around to find himself in what appears to be a sleeping area*

Peony: Tom..?

*He shouts in fright and immediately turns his head*

*When he does this, he sees Peony lying next to him with a look of concern on her face*

Peony: Are you ok?

Tom: *pants heavily* N-no. I had a bad dream.

Peony: Oh dear, what was it about?*Tom is trembling all over*

Tom: We were together. W-we were so happy, but then…you just…disappeared.

Peony: Disappeared, how could that be?

*Tom clings to her*

Tom: I don’t know, but whatever it was, I’m just glad you’re here with me now.

*Peony smiles and hugs him*

Peony: I'm glad you're here too, Tom…and I promise you, I will never leave you, no matter what happens, I'll always be with you..

*A smile appears on Tom's face when he hears this*

Tom: Thanks Honey..

*At that moment, another voice chimes in*

Jerry: Hey, can you keep it down!? Some of us are trying to sleep! *He says while standing in the doorway with a pillow in his hand*

*Tom rolls his eyes at this*

Tom: Fiiine..

*Peony giggles at this, she then kisses Tom on the cheek and his mildly annoyed expression softens*

Peony: Goodnight Sugar, sweet dreams.

*And with that, she lays back down on the bed*

*Tom blushes with a small smile and he curls back up, purring*

*We then cut to the next morning*

*We see Tom still asleep on the bed, snoring with a “honk-shoo”*

*Suddenly, a visible stream of scent makes it's way into the room and his eyes flutter open*

*He sits up and the aroma is powerfully appealing enough to make him float into the kitchen*

*Upon entering the kitchen, he is greeted to a beautiful looking breakfast on the dining table, a breakfast consisting of pancakes with syrup, scrambled eggs, toast and jam, and bacon, lots of bacon*

*The spread reflects in his eyes as he licks his chops*

*At that moment, Peony comes into the room, holding a pitcher of orange juice*

Peony: Oh! You're awake! I was wondering when you'd wake up.

Tom: Mornin’, Peony! That spread looks great!

*Peony giggles at this*

Peony: I made all your favorites, I would've woken you up earlier, but you were so cute, I didn't wanna disturb you.

*She walks towards the table and sets the pitcher of orange juice down next to the bacon*

Peony: Robyn and Mr.Helsing went out to get more garlic, but they said we don't have to wait for them, so um..dig in.

*She giggles a little, and walks away*

Tom: Well, don’t mind if I do!

*He grabs some toast, only to do a double take when he realizes Jerry is already clinging to it and eating it*

*Jerry smirks at him*

Jerry: You snooze, you lose.

*Tom glares at Jerry when he says this and tosses the toast and Jerry over his shoulder, causing Jerry to fall into the trash*

*Jerry crosses his arms as he sits on the floor of the trash can*

Tom: That’s where ya belong, ya rat!

Jerry: Hey, there’s a difference between a mouse and a rat!

Tom: I see no difference when it comes to you.

*Jerry crawls out of the can in a huff*

*Tom takes another piece of toast and covers it with jam, he then puts it on a plate before eating it rather messily and getting his fur coated with jam*

*He then starts grabbing pieces of bacon, as he's doing this, Jerry starts making his way towards the top of the table*

*Jerry takes a pancake and starts to drag it across the table, only to stumble and the pancake ends up covering him like a blanket, so Tom snickers at him*

*Annoyed by this, Jerry grabs the syrup and squirts Tom in the face with it*

Tom: Hey!! You asked for it!

*He grabs a piece of bacon and throws it at Jerry, only for Jerry to leap out of the way*

*At that moment, Tom and Jerry are treated to the scream of a certain cat*

*Tom and Jerry immediately look to see Peony standing with bacon on her face*

Peony: What is going on here?!

*She puts her hands on her hips*

*Tom smiles nervously*

Tom: H-Hey Honey..

*Jerry points at Tom*

Jerry: He started it!

*Tom stares at him in offense and shakes his fist*

Tom: Why you little-!

Peony: Boys! Knock it off! It doesn’t matter who started it, I want it to end!

*Tom practically shrinks in his seat when she says this, he stares at her like a sad puppy*

Peony: Now! I want you two to get cleaned up. Do I make myself clear?

Tom: Yes Honey..

*He trudges off with his head hanging low*

*Jerry snickers at this, only for Peony to glare at him with the scariest look in her eyes*

Peony: And that goes for you too, Jerry. *She says in a stern tone*

*Jerry’s smile quickly fades and he darts off*

*Peony pulls the bacon off of her face, she lets out a somber sigh*

Peony: I sure do wish those two would get along better..

*She then takes a bite out of one of the pieces of bacon and appears to brighten up somewhat; her cooking is great as usual*

Peony: Mmm! That's really good.

*She walks towards the sink and grabs a rag*

*She soaks it with water and starts washing her face*

*Tom soon returns, still looking ashamed*

Tom: Sorry ‘bout this, Honey.

*Peony turns her attention towards Tom, still looking somewhat annoyed*

*Tom once again stares at her like a sad puppy*

*Peony lightens up at this and a smile appears on her face*

Peony: Aww..

*She walks towards Tom and gently pets him*

Peony: You know I can't stay mad at you, Sugar..

*Tom feels a bit better from hearing this and his droopy ears perk back up*

Tom: Phew, that’s good to hear.

Peony: But, I do still wanna talk about this.

*Tom's smile fades upon hearing this*

Peony: Now, I know that Jerry can get under your skin, and I understand that, but you have to remember, we're all a part of Mr.Helsing’s team..You and Jerry need to learn to work together.

Tom: He doesn’t always make it easy, y’know. *He says in a reluctant tone*

Peony: I know this, believe me, there's been many times where I wanted to scold him for messing with you, but…

*She takes a deep breath and sighs*

Peony: There'll be times in life where you can't let grudges get in the way of the task at hand. Can you please try to put your grudge aside..for me?

*Tom takes a deep breath and sighs*

Tom: Ok..

Peony: Thank you.

*She gently places her hands on his face*

Peony: I believe in you both.

*She kisses Tom on the forehead*

*Tom smiles at this, he purrs gently*

*At that moment, they hear the door open*

*They turn to see Robyn and her father standing in the doorway, holding grocery bags in their hands*

Peony: Welcome back.

Robyn: Hey guys!

*Their expressions changed into expressions of shock when they saw the mess on the table*

Mr.Helsing: What happened here?

Tom: Now uh..I know this looks bad, but in my defense..Uh..

*He starts looking around, thankfully to see Jerry come out of the bathroom, cleaning himself with a towel*

*Jerry's expression immediately changes upon seeing Robyn and Mr.Helsing, he gets visibly nervous*

Jerry: Robyn! Mr.Helsing!

*He gets a nervous grin on his face*

Jerry: I uh.. wasn't expecting you to be back so soon!

*Tom goes to say something, but he then looks at Peony, who has a saddened expression on her face*

*Tom then takes a deep breath and sighs*

Tom: It…was me. I started it. I’ll fix that if you want me to.

*Peony smiles at him*

*Jerry stares at him in shock*

Mr. Helsing: Hmm. At least you’re willing to own up to it. Better get on it then.

Robyn: Need any help?

Tom: No no, it's my mess to clean.

*He rubs the back of his head as he looks away in shame*

Peony: Oh nonsense! We'll help anyway. Even you, Jerry.

Jerry: Wait what!?

*Peony then gives him the same terrifying stare she gave him before*

*Jerry's body turns white in fear*

Jerry: Ok ok! I'll help!

*he rushes off and gets some paper towels*

*Tom snickers at this*

*At that moment, Mr.Helsing hears the phone ringing*

Mr.Helsing: Oh, I'll get that.

*And with that, he walks away*

*Peony kisses Tom on the cheek*

Peony: Thanks Sugar.

*Tom blushes and smiles at this*

Tom: Anytime Honey.

*As Mr. Helsing listens to the person on the other end, his eyebrow raises as he becomes more intrigued*

Mr. Helsing: I see. We’ll be on our way.

*He hangs up*

Mr. Helsing: We just received a case from Transylvania.

*The gang stares at him in surprise*

Robyn: Transylvania!?

Mr. Helsing: That’s right. There have been sightings of Frankenstein’s monster.

Peony: I-I thought that was only a story!

*Tom turns his attention towards her*

Tom: Peony, we're literally monster hunters..

*Peony blushes and giggles awkwardly*

Peony: Oh…right.

Robyn: Isn't Transylvania the home of some of the world's most frightening monsters?

Jerry: Ah, monsters don't scare me! I deal with much bigger creatures all the time! Remember the time I handed Tom’s butt to him when he messed with Nibbles?

Tom: Don’t remind me.

Peony: You did what? *She says in a tone of disbelief*

*Tom immediately gets nervous upon hearing this, and immediately hugs her to calm her down*

Tom: Um, uh…I apologized for that long ago.

*Peony smiles and purrs as she hugs him back*

Mr. Helsing: Pack your bags, everyone, we must go soon.

Robyn: Ok Daddy!

*And with that, she runs off to go pack*

Peony: Oh I can't wait to go to Transylvania! Oh! What bow should I wear? Should I wear my purple one? No.. Maybe I'll try on my blue one! No.. I wore that for our last case, maybe I'll-

Jerry: What, you think the paparazzi’s gonna be there? Make up your mind already.

*Peony gets a shy look on her face upon hearing this*

Peony: I'm sorry..

*Tom glares at Jerry*

Tom: Jerry!

Jerry: What?

Tom: *looks back at Peony lovingly* Don’t listen to him, Honey, you’re a beaut no matter what you wear.

*Peony smiles at this*

Peony: Aww, thanks Sugar. I'll just wear my pink bow, it's my favorite anyway.

*And with that, Peony walks away to pack*

*Tom watches her leave with an enamored look on his face*

Jerry: You two are so sweet, it makes me sick.

Tom: *still smiling dreamily* Ah, go soak your head.

*Jerry rolls his eyes and walks away*

*Tom let's out a heavenly sigh*

Tom: I love that girl..

*And with that, he walks away to pack*

(To Be Continued)

Credit to my sister, CanyonCoyote on DeviantArt, she and I are writing this story together, and I really hope you'll enjoy it as more chapters come out.

@queenofwerewolves @citruslullabies @bumblehoneybee @glowpop20 @vvileentityart @ladysegagenesis @clg-artisa @valiantsuitcaseskellington

#tom and jerry #tom cat #tom & jerry #cartoon #kyliesocs #jerry mouse #Peony Galore #van helsing #Robyn Starling #hanna barbera #warner bros #au #au story #Tom And Jerry In Monster Mayhem #oc x canon #oc x character #Tomeony #cartoons

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bedtimegiraffe · 10 months ago

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Aerin Diamond Scene Rewrite Fic

Very glad Kade pushes your character on their trauma from being kidnapped. However, I would love for a LI to comfort your character about the fact that they keep almost dying. (Shoutout to Imtura for briefly comforting MC about the upcoming life-or-death battle, but I want more.) Relationships are a 2-way street! So here’s a little rewrite of the beginning of Aerin’s pre-battle diamond scene. Enjoy!

To accompany this, I recommend the slow and sweet “You Matter to Me” from the musical Waitress. “Come out of hiding, I'm right here beside you. And I'll stay there as long as you'll let me.”

(I don't think there are any warnings to be given other than discussion of possible death.)

It takes some looking, but you eventually find Aerin in a room on one of the ships, pacing with such focus that he doesn’t notice you as you enter. It’s kind of cute how intensely he’s thinking. You speak up, hoping you don’t startle him too badly. “How did you end up here of all places?”

Aerin’s head suddenly turns in your direction, eyes wide. “Oh! I… I wasn’t expecting you.” His surprised expression disappears almost at once, replaced by one of relief. “Imtura offered me this cabin, as a matter of fact.”

“Really?”

“I thought she was going to punch me. But she said that if I was brave enough to come back, I deserved a good place to sleep.” Aerin grins at you sarcastically. “I suppose tripping is a form of affection.”

His brief smile fades as he waves you into the cabin, then resumes his pacing.

You bite the inside of your lip. He looks so nervous. You can hardly blame him for that. “Are you having second thoughts about coming back? Because you… you don’t have to stay.”

Aerin stops moving, turning to give you a searching look. “You would let me leave so easily, then? Even on the eve of battle?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you again. Happy you’re here to help. But… things have been exceptionally dangerous since you left. I-” You take a shaky breath in. “I almost died. More than once. In those moments, I really wanted to see you again. But at the same time, I was relieved you were somewhere safer. And now that you’re here, I’m worried you’ll…” The thought hurts to even acknowledge.

Aerin’s eyes tighten with concern, though he covers it passably well. “Telling me you’ve been in incredible danger is hardly the way to get me to leave. And I did not come all this way to back out now.”

You suddenly feel desperate as the fear you’ve struggled to keep at bay forces itself to the front of your mind. “…Aren’t you scared?”

Aerin looks at you for a long moment, his gaze soft. “I’m not. Honestly, I expected to be frightened out of my wits. But for the first time, I actually feel prepared for battle. I trained all throughout my youth, but I never had a good cause to put it to. Just…” He frowns, looking toward the floor. “Baldur’s hunting misadventures. And then my misadventures.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t…” You close your eyes, trying to collect your thoughts. When you open them, Aerin is right in front of you. Close enough to touch. “Nia died last time. The Blade brought her back, but it was an absolute miracle. I don’t know that we’ll get another one of those. I never used to worry about any of us like this, but we keep getting so close to everything just being over and I can’t…” You choke back a sob. As you struggle vainly to hold back a flood of tears, Aerin hesitantly puts his arms around you, slowly pulling you into a warm embrace. You cling to him tightly as you cry, like he’s the only real thing in the world. Your next words come out in a frantic rush. “I can’t lose you again. Any of you. I can’t be all alone again.”

Aerin doesn’t respond for a moment, just cradling your shaky frame and unconsciously running his thumb in a soothing path along your back. “I wish I could tell you what will happen tomorrow. But I don’t know. There is a possibility this will be our last night alive.” It’s a terrible thing to hear, but… a relief for someone else to finally acknowledge it. “But you won’t be alone. All of your incredibly capable and persistent friends will be with you. I will be with you. For as long as you’ll have me.”

It does help to be reminded that you’re not in this alone. None of you are.

You focus on breathing deeply until you’re calm enough to pull back and look at Aerin again. “How are you so relaxed about the fact that we could all die tomorrow?”

His face melts into a smile, fond and affectionate. “Because I’m fighting for our city and our people. For you.” He brings a hand to cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his suddenly serious gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You smile at that, wiping the last of the tears from your eyes. “Thank you. For being honest with me about…” You take a deep breath. “What might happen tomorrow. And for standing by me.”

“Always.” Aerin gazes deeply into your eyes and, for just a moment, you forget that there exists a world outside this room. Then he blinks, a faint blush rising in his cheeks, and he pulls away. He gestures for you to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

Once you’re seated, Aerin sits next to you, close enough that your arms can’t help but brush. “I suppose I still owe you an explanation for running off the way I did…”

#And then the scene continues as you choose!#blades of light and shadow #choices bolas #blades of light and shadow 2 #aerin valleros #blades mc #aerin x mc #fanfic

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kristi16 · 1 year ago

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How we got into Inchident p.8

summary: Charles confined in you which made you feel heavy. But as a proper boyfriend he is, he takes care of you in his selfish way

warnings: 18+, smut, dom charles, fingering, penetration, dirty words

***********************************

I slept hard that night. I had a dream about a girl in a cave. Every night she waited to see if her lover would come back home. It was always a thrill in itself not knowing how the day would end. And that's how it was with Charles as well. I never knew how things would continue with him. How the day would end. The only thing that was clear to me was that he was investing in me a lot. I’ve never felt so desired by anyone before. And from this fact I know he won't just let me go that easily.

I woke up in the morning with a tickling feeling between my legs. I shook myself and heard caressing sounds, felt tender touches. It was Charles. His hair brushed against my thighs and I began to fall into pleasure.

"Charles" I whimpered quietly.

"Look who woke up."

He chuckled. And he continued on. He licked me as if he had never done it and tried to capture every second of it. I ran my fingers through his hair and urged him to indulge more.

"I was so cruel to you yesterday that I have to make it up to you."

I cried out from that memory. I remember yesterday. How dirty I felt. But with him…I'll let him. Always. And it was messing with my head. I didn't even expect it and suddenly I fell into pleasure. I screamed his name. I felt the heat spreading through me and all just for him.

When I was able to open my eyes again, I felt Charles playing with his fingers around my opening. He was leaning on his other elbow to see me better. He had me all over his mouth.

"So what do you think, do you think you're still sore from yesterday?"

He smiled wryly. Fear appeared in my eyes.

“Y/N don't worry, I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. Unless you wouldn’t like the pain.”

He winked at me and I longed for him again.

"Charles" I cried. Pushing his finger inside of me.

"Maybe we should go for the second hole"

He looked at me devilishly. My eyes poped out.

"Do you like it right? I feel your tightness around my finger"

I felt myself getting more and more wet. I couldn't do anything. I was at the mercy of his pleasure.

Charles felt your walls wrapping around his finger and wanted it to be his cock instead. He was selfish with you. He knew how welcoming you are.

"I need you."

He told me as he caressed my thighs. I shook my head with a sigh. He propped himself up on both elbows and moved closer to me.

"I'm gonna make love to you. I will be gentle. I will kiss you”

He told me and slowly thrusted into me. He expanded inside of me until I gasped for air and found satisfaction that he was stretching me out. Pleasure and pleasure started spreading through my body again. Charles caressed my earlobe, neck and chest.

“I've never felt anything like this for anyone else. You are a magnificent woman Y/N”

He whispered in my ear and continued to give me gentle thrusts. I was nearing the top and kept repeating his name with my eyes closed. When I was just about to come, Charles confided in me.

"I want to marry you"

And at that moment I stopped breathing. From my climax and from his confession. The rest of the time accompanied by my cries and his moans.

———————————————————————

I was lying on my back. Eyes glued to the ceiling. My whole life flashed before my eyes. I was barely breathing. Charles snuggled up to me, pulling me closer with his arms and resting his head in the pit of my armpit. After some time I broke the silence.

"Do you really mean it?"

"Yeah"

He hummed in my ear. Like it was no big deal. With each second passing the more it seemed he is falling asleep. I turned my head to see what time it is. Six in the morning. Charles was resting peacefully and I couldn't shake the feeling of heaviness in my chest.

The whole trip to the airport and back home was long. I had no energy and felt like my whole life was falling apart. Irrational thoughts and worries about the future. Charles just looked at you like you’re a broken vase with no life. Left him wondering what to do about it. He had no idea what it was all about though. He just knew that your agreement, that you would stay with him in Monaco for at least a few more days, gave him hope.

"Can you tell me what goes on in that beautiful little head of yours all day?"

I looked at him and back at my hands that were in my lap.

"I do not know. Just…."

I inhaled deeply. Charles sat down next to me. He looked at me like at a small child, when a parent waits to see what kind of lie the child will make up. At that moment, I decided that I was not going to walk around the bush.

"It's what you said this morning."

He frowned and looked away. He tried to remember.

“Ah.”

I just nodded my head.

"I still don't understand what it's about."

I looked at him as if he was born yesterday.

"Well, it's too soon. You don't think that?"

"No. I don't know why I should."

"Maybe because we haven't been together for a long time."

"Well, according to you, we're not even dating yet."

He chuckled. And I just narrowed my eyes and tried to burn him with my gaze. He just rolled his eyes at me.

"I just don't see why I should wait for something when I know what I want and I'm sure of it."

There was silence for a while. Nobody said anything. But Charles started again.

"Besides, you were the one who told me that I should stop making excuses because of fear and go after what I want."

I looked at him sadly. Charles sighed loudly and spoke.

"So you don't want me?"

"What? No! I'm just overwhelmed by it all. Just in shock. I'm worried"

He looked into my eyes for a long time.

"So you just overthinking a lot."

He told me with narrowed eyes. He extended his hand to me and stood up at the same time. When he saw that I was staring blankly at him for a long time, he nodded towards his palm again. I put mine in his and stood up. He led me to the room where the piano is.

"Step in front of it."

I hesitated for a while, but I did it.

He approached me from behind and I could feel his breath on the skin of my neck.

"And now I'm going to fuck your worries out of your head."

He said in my ear. My eyes widened and my mouth fell open. He placed his right hand on my hip and gently pushed me to move forward. I disobeyed him. He hissed at me.

"If you keep this up, I'm going to use a belt on you."

"Charles-"

His face moved closer to mine, looking directly at my lips.

"Do you know what it's going to feel like to be here playing and composing a new song while the memories of me screwing you up come back to me?"

I gasped and as my mouth was open, Charles stuck his fingers in my mouth.

"Will you be a good girl?"

I shook my head.

"Alright then.-"

………………………….

“-Now spread your legs and bend over. I want to see your cunt.”

And I, as his little whore, immediately obeyed. Charles lowered himself to the ground behind me so that my cunt was at his eye level. When I was fully exposed for him, he took a deep breath. He inhaled my scent.

"I love how you smell, I love how you taste. I wanted to see what you looked like before I ruin your sweet little pussy again.”

I gasped and felt hot. I felt his hot breath on my cunt. I jerked my hips forward. Charles bit my ass.

"You pull away from me one more time and I'll bit at your clit."

I sobbed in despair. I couldn't take it anymore. How he plays with me. I wanted him to just take me already.

"Do you feel how your juices are running down your thighs? I can see you all over your thighs. Soon you will start dripping and it will be all over the floor. And like a proper whore you are, you will clean it up after yourself."

He chuckled, said in a seductive voice and gave me a small kiss on the clit .

“Charles!”

I screamed. I was getting exhausted. He stroked my ass and quieted me down. He inserted two fingers into me. And I started to moan.

"You are all mine."

Your cunt was so gooey when Charles tried to take you all over his palm. Like you were slipping through his fingers and it was making him furious.

"Tell Me You're Mine" he growled.

“I am! Please Charles” I sobbed.

He chuckled. He grabbed one of your wrists and turned you around to face him. You saw his crooked smile and his wide long cock. You looked at him and bit your lip. He took you under your knees and pushed you out onto the piano. You didn't even notice the horrible sound you made from the way Charles pushed you on the piano. You were taken aback how he was looking at you. Wild, hungry and dangerous. You were so mesmerized by his green eyes that you screamed as he penetrated you.

He didn't leave you any time to adjust and he already loaded it into you according to his taste.

Only your moans filled the room and you had trouble holding on to the piano as he roughly drove into you. But you loved it. You love how he takes you.

"Look down"

When I noticed after a long time that Charles was saying anything to me at all, I looked at where the two of us were connecting.

"See that ring you put around my dick"

I looked into his eyes in shame.

"And I can't put a ring on your finger?"

And at that moment it dawned on me. How sweet he is to me. How tender he is to me. I smiled at him and felt happiness again. Same happiness as before. The happiness I feel when I'm with him.

#charles leclerc x reader #fem reader #formula 1 #smut #charles leclerc #f1 #f1 x reader #female reader #imagine #cl16 #fan fiction #cl16 x reader

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gretavanlace · 2 years ago

Text

Sugar (part 19)

Minors do not interact!

Warnings: angst, aggression, crying, anger, idek- I’m upset, don’t talk to me xoxo

Ok, so this fic is my baby, and you all have embraced it with such loving beauty, but everything must find its end. This is where we meet ours.....

You’re sitting beside Sammy, clinging to your now empty mug like a buoy in a squall when the timer on your phone sounds off.

“Timer.” Sam informs you needlessly as he reaches forward to silence it. “What do you think? Should you go take a look?”

Fear the likes of which you have never felt swells up inside you, and once again, the tears are spilling. “I can’t do it, Sam. Can you…can you just…please?”

“Yeah,” he stands quickly with a resigned nod. “Yeah, of course. Just don’t…you know, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Don’t say that!” You hiss, reaching out to yank at the hem of his shirt frantically. “You’ll jinx things.”

He holds his hands up, though you know him well enough to know he likely thinks you’re being ridiculous, “Sorry, sorry…I take it back. Hey,”

Leaning in, he takes your face in his gentle grasp, “I need you to take a couple deep breaths with me first, okay? Can we do that?”

You breathe together for a moment, guided by his leading, calming, inhales and exhales.

Finally, he seems satisfied, “Good job. Okay…here we go.”

He lopes off into the bathroom, trying to feign calm, but you can see the tremor in his hand when he runs it through his hair.

It softens you; the way he worries for you and his brothers. The way he takes care of those his loves at any angle he can find. So much like Josh. Sammy will find the smallest in, the tiniest crack, and squeeze himself inside it to care for you there. If your walls are up, you might as well let them crash to the ground, because Samuel is going to find a way to sneak over ‘em eventually.

“Alright,” his voice snaps you out of your head. He sounds calm now, though you know it’s all for your sake. “Two lines mean what now?”

Stress level at a fever pitch, you fumble around with the instruction pamphlet that accompanied the test. Two lines, two lines, two lines, you think while scanning over the instructions.

“Oh no,” your voice catches painfully in your throat as it tightens in on itself. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, no no no no…”

As you fold into a ball, legs tucked into your chest against the couch, fighting the inevitable panic attack that is scrambling its way mercilessly into your brain, Sammy reappears.

“One line!” He calls out loudly, waving the stick - now wrapped in toilet paper - around. “There’s only one line! Fuck, I’m so stupid…I’m sorry. I was just messing with you and…shit, I don’t know why I did that.”

“What?” Your vibrating hands fly to the sides of your face, desperately trying to hold yourself together.

“I was trying to...” He looks panicked and anguished. “I don’t know! I’m sorry…but one line. Look, one! See?”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” You croak, still unable to catch your breath.

“I know,” he nods fervently, sinking down onto the couch beside you. “I know. I’m so sorry…but see?”

You stare down at the test and the obvious lack of a second pink line. “One line is negative…” the observation comes out clipped and rushed, like you still can’t fathom it to be the truth, and speaking it aloud will make it so.

“I know.” He sounds ashamed of himself. “M’sorry, doll, really. It was poor timing. You know I can’t read a room.”

“One line.” You repeat, pulling yourself up shakily. “One line.”

“Right.” His palms cover your trembling hands. “One line. And Sam is an idiot.”

“Sam is an idiot.” You parrot back, thoughts still reeling.

“I’ll write a song about it and make Josh sing it at every show just for you.” He teases, trying to wiggle his way back into your good graces. “Oh, I once knew a dick named Sam. He was a dick. Insert guitar solo.”

A soft, sad laugh sighs out of you. “It doesn’t even rhyme.”

“He’ll still like it better than Highway Tune, I bet.”

“Oh, thank god…” the realization finally hits you, as relieved tears prick at your eyes. “I can’t even…” a burst of laughter dances out of your lungs “I’m so…”

You want to say ‘happy’, you think…but it feels wrong; not quite right, for there is an aching sadness there too. You know it in your bones - this changes nothing.

“What is it?” Sam searches your face, prodding you along so gently you almost don’t even notice.

“I can’t do this with them.” You confess with a sob that shakes your shoulders and your soul. “I can’t choose.”

He pulls you in, comforting you like the big brother he has never been, and allows you to cry for a while. And judging by the occasional shudder that rattles his chest, maybe he even cries a little with you.

Finally, he breaks through the foggy sorrow in your head with a painful truth. “By not choosing, you’re forcing Josh to choose for you. Which means Jake. Do you think maybe that’s what you want?”

A thousand memories flicker through your head; a silent film reel of Josh. His eyes, glittering with love and innate openness. His smile, flashing at you, over and over, until your chest aches, his little giggle - the one that only peeks out when he’s feeling soft and relaxed - the way he smells, the softness of his skin, so warm and seemingly constantly sun kissed. His brow, furrowed in concentration, tip of his tongue darted out like a child’s. The way he loves you. The way you love him. It all rises up inside you like a wave…

…and you know.

“No. It’s not what I want.” You pull yourself back so your eyes can find his. “How could that ever be what I want? I can’t have one without the other.”

“But Jake will—“

“Jake will what?” You cut him off angrily. It’s a sudden fever, but it feels like it’s been bubbling just beneath the surface all night. “Is he going to just fall apart and die without me? What about what’s being asked of me?”

Now you’re on your feet, fists balled at your sides. Now you know why Jake threw that damn bowl at the wall, because you long for one of your own to smash. “I never asked for any of this, you know. Did you know that? Jake just showed up in my room one night. I could’ve said no, but they knew I wouldn’t. They fucking knew! They had this whole twin bullshit discussion about it…never even involved me. Now Josh tells me he did it for Jake? Like I still don’t matter.”

“Alright,” Sam rises, hands splayed out like you’re a feral child he’s slightly terrified of. “Just relax a little, we’ll figure this out.”

“No!” You stomp. Maybe you are a feral child, after all. “I won’t relax! I’m fucking angry! They did this…and now I want them both. Now I need them both…but once again, they’re deciding for me. They’re deciding that things have to change. Well the answer is no! I’m deciding this time!”

His hands find yours and grip them firmly, grounding you for a moment. “Okay…okay. You’re deciding. So what’s it gonna be?”

You’re silent for so long Sam is considering asking you all over again, when at last your answer comes whispering out of you. “I’m going to go.”

He bends at the knees, ducking his head in order to catch your eye. “What?”

“I can’t have one without the other, Sammy.” The confession breaks an unseen dam inside you, sending sobs ripping out of your chest. “I’m going to leave.”

“You can’t just leave.” He shakes his head, sounding very near tears as well.

“You don’t get to tell me anything…” you snap, and then immediately feel guilty. He is but an innocent bystander who has been dragged, kicking and screaming, into this mess.

“I know, but…fuck, it’ll kill them. Please…”

“I don’t need another fucking sermon about how much they love me, because fuck them! If they loved me so much, maybe they’d think a little more about my fucking feelings!”

Once again, you’re wishing for that bowl to hurl. Instead, your furious gaze lands on the empty tea cups resting forgotten on the coffee table. Without rational thought, you grab the closest one up and send it flying at the wall. It explodes into shards with your wailed “It isn’t fucking fair!” its soundtrack.

In solidarity, Sam snatches the other cup and careens it into the wall with a growled “Fuck my stupid brothers.”

Panting, you hang your head and nod. “Fuck your stupid brothers.”

You both catch your breath in silence until he breaks it. “You can’t just leave. I’m calling Daniel.”

“So call him. Call a hundred Daniels. I don’t care.” You’re being cruel, but you can’t seem to rein it in.

He ignores your antics and grabs up his phone. After a moment of quiet, he warns, “She’s going to leave.” in lieu of hello. “Come talk to—“ he pauses and pulls the phone away from his ear to frown down at it. “Yeah, just hang up on me. That’s cool.”

It confuses you, but only for a few solemn minutes and then comes the knocking at the door. You’d know his stupid, cool-guy knock anywhere, even if it does sound frantic right now.

“You asshole…” you hiss at Sam, eyes narrowed in fury.

“Misplaced anger, doll.” He kisses your forehead and then heads for the door, even as you beg him not to answer it.

Sammy swings the door open and then slips out into the hall as his brother steps in.

The door swishes closed, leaving you to stare at each other. He looks disheveled and hungry, like he wants to rush the room and grab you urgently.

Watching him watch you, the rage drains from your veins, only to be replaced with a physically agonizing sadness.

“So, you’re just gonna leave?” He asks, tears shaking his words. “Just like that? No goodbye? No explanation? No fuck you? Nothing?”

“Jake…” Speaking his name makes you feel weak. Helpless.

Somehow, you find your resolve and straighten your spine, even as he seems to grow smaller before you.

You watch in embarrassment as his eyes take in the broken china. “What happened here?”

“I got angry.” Your voice is meek as you offer a small shrug. He nods his understanding, and the silence is overwhelming between the two of you for an exaggerated moment.

“Please don’t do this, sugar…” His voice is a shell of itself as he moves to close the space between you.

You step back, widening the distance, and watch as he winces at the unfamiliar response.

“Stop.” It’s a plea, not a demand…but your body comes to a standstill all the same.

“Jake.” You repeat, like his name is the only word you know, a whisper this time.

“Baby, please…” he steps forward and pulls you into his arms, folding you into his embrace with a long inhale into his lungs, his nose buried in your hair.

You nuzzle right back against him, but in a breath, scrabble for strength. You find it with a shake of your head, moving to break away.

He only holds you tighter and stumbles to lean against the wall, as if he can’t manage his own body weight, pulling you along with him. “No.” He begs, low and mournful, hitching the word into several syllables. “Sugar, no. I take it back. I take it all back. Just stay. Okay? Stay. Everything’s fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.” You quiver out “This is bad enough without the lies.”

“I don’t care.” He sounds urgent. Despondent. Nearly manic. “I’ll share. I’ll be your moon. Love him best…just don’t fucking leave me, baby. Don’t go.”

You push out of his arms, panting with the unbridled anger that is suddenly surging through you. He looks taken aback, but wisely gives you a bit of space.

“Just a few hours ago you made me speak truths that I never wanted spoken. Ever. You made sure he heard them. You were forcing me into a choice.” You bite harshly. “You said you’d leave if I chose him. So what, you can only live without me if you’re the one doing the leaving?”

“No-“ he reaches out for you, brow furrowed, tears obscuring his beautiful eyes. You swat him away despite longing to pull him in. “I didn’t mean it, okay? I didn’t fucking mean any of it. Just, please sugar, please….”

“How can you say you didn’t mean it?” You want to grab him, shake him around until he sees. You also want to beg him to turn back time. To make this all go away. “How could you do that? It isn’t even about me. How could you do that to him?”

“I…” he at least has the sense to look ashamed. “I don’t know. I just needed to hear you say it so badly. I was fucking crazy with the need to come first for you. I was losing it. I shouldn’t have…” new tears spring to life, streaking down his flushed cheeks.

“It’s a little late to grow a heart now, don’t you think, Jake?” You spit mercilessly.

“You think I don’t have a heart?” He snaps back. “That’s rich, considering you fucking own it entirely.” As soon as the words leave his lips, he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to yell at each other…I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Jake…” he can hear the finality in your tone and it sends him into a panic.

“Sugar, please baby, please!” Again, his hands are grabbing for you while you smack at them. “Stop it! Just let me hold you... I don’t care what I have to settle for if it means you’ll stay.”

It’s like a dull, rusty knife through your broken soul. The word guts you. Levels you. You pray for the earth to open beneath your feet to swallow you right up into nothing, so you don’t have to feel anything, anymore. “Settle? Is that what this has been? You and I? Settling?”

You see the lie in his eyes before he has the chance to speak it. “Jake?”

His truthful answer comes quietly, but it blasts into your existence as though he has screamed it over and over. “Yes. I don’t want this with you. I don’t want you to love him.”

It happens before you have a chance to comprehend that your hand is even moving…and once your palm lands against his cheek with a sickening crack, you feel ill. Strawberry ice cream rising in your throat like bile as you shake and stare at him in shock.

You loathe yourself for it…but how could he say that? How could he deny his twin love? His brother, who so selflessly chose Jake’s happiness over his own such a short time ago. Who wept and worried that he felt alone in the dark.

He drops his face to the floor, staring at his feet, shoulders bouncing subtly with tears. “I deserved that.”

“No.” Finally, you step forward, cupping his reddened cheek. “No, you didn’t…and I’m so sorry. I’m just so fucking angry with you both, and fuck, I just love you so much.”

His eyes lift to yours, “Please say you mean me.”

“I do.” You nod. “But I mean him, too, Jake. I’m always going to mean him, too.”

He chooses to ignore it, closing his eyes against the truth of it, like he can will it away. Instead, his hand finds your stomach tenderly. Cupping over it as if you are no longer the only precious thing to him.

His eyes, full of grief - and also hope, lift to yours. He looks so desperate, for whatever outcome he has romanticized, that you have to steal yourself to be truthful with him. “No,” you whisper with a soft shake of your head. “I’m not.”

“Oh.” His tone is empty, and yet laden with emotion all at once, hand still tracing slow circles as though willing it to be true.

“How could you have wanted that?” You whisper, confused and aching with sadness…he just looks so beaten down. “We wouldn’t have known - “

He doesn’t allow you to finish your thought. “I wouldn’t have cared.”

“Jake…” it shivers out of you on fresh tears.

“Please, sugar.” He begs, so hushed you almost don’t hear him, though he’s pressed against you. “You’re gonna stay, right baby? You’re gonna stay and everything is going to be fine. Say it.”

It would feel so nice to lie. It would feel even nicer for it to be the truth.

You’re searching for a way to make him see, when a soft rap on the door interrupts your distress. “Oh, Jake…” you admonish, stroking through his tangled hair. “You didn’t.”

He knows just as well as you do. Probably knew even before the knock sounded through the room. “I didn’t, pretty girl. I swear...but it’s him.”

He’s right. Somehow, Josh has always known when someone he loves needs him. With both Jake and yourself pouring such desperate energy into the universe, you’re amazed he hasn’t broken down the door.

“I can’t.” You implore, searching his eyes.

“And I won’t.” There’s an edge to his voice you’ve never heard before. He sounds clipped and vengeful…Josh has intruded, in his eyes.

“Jake…” there is a needy hint there, and you hate it.

“No.” He is resolved and unmoving.

The knock comes again, louder this time.

Pulling away from Jake proves to be a feat, he clings to you and begs you to stay beside him, in this generic hotel room. You think he might like to stay here alone together forever…like hiding could make everything go away.

“Hey, mama.” He and his twin sound startlingly alike when they’re grappling with something as morose as this.

“Hey.” You lean against the door, lost in his tired eyes.

“You gonna let me in, or is this where we walk away?” He’s pushing his way inside before you can reply…he knows the answer.

“You.” He snaps his fingers at Jake and points at the bed. “Sit.”

“Fuck you.” Jake hisses back, like a vulgar child.

Josh remains unaffected as he sinks into a chair, head in hand. “Poetic as ever, brother. Now, sit.”

To your bewilderment, Jake slinks over to the edge of the bed and sits.

Josh’s face, with an expression you’ve never seen, turns to you “Talk to us, love.”

“There’s nothing to say.” You fidget on your feet and fight tears.

Lie down with me… you want to weep. Just let’s lie here together. Just hold me. I don’t want this to be real.

“You owe us more than that.” Josh sounds gentle, but stoic. His mind is set…and he’s right.

“I won’t be the bullet.” It blurts out of you. Inept and inarticulate.

“Baby, you’re not…”

Josh ends Jake’s sentence with a hand held up, eyes trained on you. “And what does that mean, sweet girl? Won’t be the bullet? What’s that mean?”

You lose your resolve. You want to stand tall and strong, but fold down to the floor anyway. “Sammy said-“

“Sam’s a fucking idiot!” Jake interjects, sounding beyond furious, as though poor Sammy caused this all. “Why would you ever-“

“Sam said what, love?” Josh secrets into the room, crawling over to take your hand. “Jake..” he motions him over. “C’mere closer to her.”

Jake moves without a blink of hesitation and suddenly, you’re surrounded with them. And maybe this is it, so you sit in silence for a while…memorizing the two of them, memorizing your world before you walk away from it. “Sam said you would step in front of a bullet for Jake. I know that’s what you’re doing. I won’t be the bullet. It’ll ruin you two…and I can’t live with that.”

“You think this won’t ruin us?” Jake’s shaking hands are clutching at your cheeks. “Losing you? Do you think I could ever look at him without seeing you? Or him at me? You’re fucking crazy, sugar...I need you baby.” He catches his mistake, and instantly tries to rectify. “We need you.”

“No.” You shake his words away. “Eventually, you’ll be okay. But not if I’m here. Not if I choose. If I choose, I’m poison to this…” your palms find both of their heartbeats. “This unimaginable bond…I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“Sugar,” Jake raises his voice a clip, hardens it. “I swear to god if you leave, I’ll leave too. I’ll never so much as speak his fucking name again. You’ll ruin us by leaving us.”

So much like his other half, Josh gently brings his fingers to your stomach, caressing tenderly in question.

You shake your head and wish you could unsee the sorrow in his eyes. They had both wanted it to be true?

“Do you know how much I love you?” Josh whispers, nose ghosting along your temple. “When I said I did it for him…it came out wrong. It’s just…when he needs something, I need him to have it. He needs you.”

“He’ll always see it.” Your hand finds Josh’s face. You lose yourself in the softness of it for the last time. “He’ll always see that I love you, too. And you’ll always love me, right?”

“Right, mama.” Tears have choked him into near silence.

“And he’ll always see that. So, now you know this doesn’t work.”

“I don’t care.” Jake sounds like he could break apart. “I don’t care anymore. Stay. Just stay. Stay, sugar…stay stay stay…”

“Jake..” Josh leans away from you, in closer to his brother, hands gripping his shoulders ferociously. “Don’t do this to her. We’ve done enough.”

In a flurry of limbs and curses, Josh finally wins, with Jake sobbing in his arms as his brother whispers in his ear.

If he were speaking louder, you’d hear him reminding Jake of how much he loves you, how he’d do anything for you. How this…letting you go…is how he can love you hardest, because you couldn’t stand to watch them fall apart because of you. You would hear Josh beg him to just let you walk out so neither of them could break your heart into smaller pieces than they already have…and you’d hear Josh telling him how much he loves him as well, and you’d know that Jake was nodding that he loves him too, through devastation he can’t bear.

Instead, you turn away and stumble down the hall through your tears, aching for just a single deep breath, as you leave them to each other...

...as it should be.

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