#But if I were to make a long fanfic that isn’t a one-shot I can get comfortable enough to do it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

festivalsofmargot · 1 year

Note

hi!!!! i love your writing style, it’s so beautiful! when you have the time, could i request Ominis x reader where they have a really bad fight and Ominis says something really mean like totally out of pocket to where their relationship is cracking so he has to win her forgiveness and love back 😭 i love angst it hurts me so good

The 3 Boys & The Hogwarts Champion

{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: The TriWizard Tournament was a tournament that promised glory, but also a tournament with a death toll so high, just surviving it would be the accomplishment of a lifetime. Your significant other had begged you not to put your name in the Goblet of Fire. You told him you wouldn’t, but you've done so anyway in secret. These are the reactions of Garreth, Ominis, and Sebastian when they not only realize you put your name in behind their back, but that you’ve also been chosen as the Hogwarts Champion.

Word Count:

Garreth: ~ 2,200 words

Ominis: ~ 1,700 words

Sebastian: ~ 2,400 words

Warnings: Kissing, Angst

Author’s Note: Thanks for the request, anon! And I'm so happy you enjoy my writing ❤ I hope you don't mind I got Garreth and Sebastian in on your request haha. You can go ahead and jump to reader and Ominis' fight, there aren't any rules here. 😉 Sorry for taking so long on my fanfics! Work has been nuts lately, I've fit in writing whenever I had the drive and wasn't mentally burned out from my job. Hope you enjoy and have fun with it guys, got some good ol' angst written up for ya 😚

Songs (if interested):

Garreth’s song: War of Hearts (Acoustic Version) - Ruelle

Ominis’ song: Granite - Sleep Token

Sebastian’s song: Is It Really You? - Sleep Token, Loathe

Garreth:

When Garreth heard Headmaster Black announce your name, his blood went cold, the entertained smile vanishing from his face. But - we agreed you wouldn’t… No. No, this isn’t fun anymore. Stop this. Stop all of this now.

He watched you as you made your way up to stand with the other champions. You were smiling, happy, proud as can be that your name was chosen. But he caught the guilty look in your eye when you glanced his way. You lied to me.

The room seemed to be spinning while he sat still in his seat, looking Headmaster Black’s way but not listening to what he was saying about the tournament. His ears were ringing, he was starting to feel sick.

As soon as everyone was dismissed, Garreth shot up from his seat, wanting to get out of the Great Hall as fast as possible. You wanted to chase after him, explain yourself. But you could only watch Garreth’s form walk away as you were guided with the other champions out to discuss the tournament expectations.

Garreth had gone numb. The one he loved most had lied to him, deciding some dangerous, unnecessary tournament was worth more than him. Without thinking, he had gone to Professor Sharp’s empty classroom and started brewing whatever came to mind. He wasn’t in the mood for experimenting, he wanted to put together ingredients that made sense, he couldn’t take anymore surprises.

You had been watching him silently from the doorway for a few minutes, trying to think of what you could possibly say to him after what you had done.

Feeling someone’s presence, he turned to see who it was. He shook his head and scoffed humorlessly seeing it was you, turning back to his potions.

I deserved that welcome. “I -” You began but stopped short, not knowing how to continue.

He took a step back from his potion brew, resting his hands on the table, looking at the ground because he wasn’t quite ready to look at you. “I just want to know why. Why would you look me in the eye, promise me you wouldn’t put your name in the running, and then go off and do exactly that behind my back?” His voice was hard, his words direct.

You had never heard him be this stern with you. You didn’t think you’d ever heard him this stern with anyone. Way to go, you’ve managed to make the most fun loving, easy going person you know livid. “There’s no good excuse, Gar.”

“Don’t.” He said through gritted teeth. “You are not allowed to call me that.”

Your heart broke, but you knew you brought this on yourself.

He took a steadying breath, trying to push down his temper. “Either tell me why you did it or leave me alone.” His tone sounded like he was already done with you.

You nodded your head, quickly trying to find the words. “I… Natty put her name in.”

Garreth squeezed his eyes shut. He had heard Natty throwing the idea of entering around but he hadn’t realized she’d actually done it. If he had found out before you did, he would have done everything in his power to keep it hidden from you. Although, he didn’t know how successful he’d be when Natty was your best friend. “If she wanted to compete, that's her choice.”

“And this is mine. I’m not letting anything happen to her.”

He stood up straight then, looking at nothing in particular. He shouldn’t have expected anything different. You were the most capable person to compete for Hogwarts, and the only one in ages able to wield ancient magic, you both knew if you entered your name you’d get chosen. He had begged you to promise him you wouldn’t put your name in. But of course, it still ended up like this.

All it would take was one misstep, and you’d be taken from him forever. The thought had brought back the sickening feeling he had earlier. Wishing he had felt numb still, he sighed and rubbed at his brows with his thumb and forefinger. “Why do you have to be the hero every bloody time?” He grumbled, just loud enough for you to hear.

You looked down, feeling horrible seeing him this way. It was a new low knowing you had caused it. Garreth was always bright and full of good humor, and your betrayal seemed to wash that all away like it never existed. “I’m so sorry. I never… never wanted to hurt you.”

He finally turned your way and looked over you solemnly for a moment. You held his gaze as he walked up and cupped your cheek. “I just had to go after you, didn’t I? Why couldn’t I have gone after someone dull? Why’d it have to be you?” He gave a small shake of his head as he mused to himself. “It’s cruel being in love with you.”

It hit you then that you could lose him over this. “I know.” You whispered.

With a disappointed sigh, he released you and went back to his potions station. “You can go now.” He said with no emotion, as if he were dismissing you.

You stared after him a moment longer, then took your leave.

He poured some of the wiggenweld potion he brewed into a flask. Just as he was about to cap it, rage coursed through him and he threw the flask against the wall.

He wasn’t planning on attending any of your challenges, but he found he couldn’t keep away. He needed to keep an eye on you or he’d feel worse than he already did. He remained near the back of the audience, pacing back and forth, anxiously running his hand through his hair throughout the whole thing. The sick, nervous feeling never dissipated, he could have sworn the sensation was burning a hole through his insides.

He nearly collapsed when the challenge was over, breathing easier with so much relief washing over him. He ran down to the champions’ tent to wait for you to leave. He called your name as you walked out and you quickly turned in the direction of his voice, eyes wide that he had not only shown up, but approached you first.

He closed the distance between you two and pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You wrapped your arms back around him, nearly crying at the collision.

He pulled back just enough to cup your cheek and look over your features. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” His stomach dropped seeing all the gashes and bruises on your face.

“I’m fine.” You tried to reassure him, but his eyes darting all over you told you your words hadn’t done much reassuring.

He took your hand in his and pulled you urgently along with him. “I’m getting you to the hospital wing, and I’m going to make you some wiggenweld potions.” He stopped briefly to look you dead in the eye, no nonsense. “And you’re going to drink every single one I put in front of you.” He turned and began tugging you along again.

You smiled to yourself, not daring to disagree with him. “Yes, sir.”

On your way to the hospital wing, you walked by the wall where the Room of Requirement would be. It never showed up when you were with someone else, but that day it did. Garreth slowed to a stop, furrowing his brows as he watched the door form before him.

“What’s happening?”

“It’s the Room of Requirement. Looks like it believes we both need it now.” You tugged him in with you and his eyes went wide at it all before him.

“You’ve had all this to yourself since fifth year?” He was in awe, how could you ever want to leave this place? As his eyes explored the room, they landed back on you, and he remembered in a panic what he was originally doing. “Sit down.” He commanded. He turned and scanned the room for your potions station. Spotting it, he strode up and began on some wiggenwelds. While those took a moment to brew, he looked around for some bandages, anything to patch you up with.

“Right here.” You held them up as you sat on the couch and began working them onto yourself.

He snatched them from you, sat down, and started doing it for you. You watched him as he fixated on your scrapes and bumps. Being this close again, you wanted to kiss his freckles more than ever before. He had been avoiding you since you last spoke, you were convinced you had lost him. You probably had and this was only a moment of weakness on his part.

“I love you.” You found yourself saying. “I’d do anything for you, I hope you still know that.”

He seemed unphased by your words as he continued cleaning you up. “You’d do anything but keep your name out of a burning goblet, it seems.”

You closed your eyes and sighed through your nose. He had you there.

He stopped his movements suddenly and shifted away from you, sighing himself and leaning his elbows on his knees. “You broke my heart, you know.”

Tears stung at your eyes. But you refused to let them fall, you weren’t the victim here. All you could do was nod your head even though he wasn’t looking at you.

“You promised me you wouldn’t put your name in that damned goblet.” His voice was strained. He went silent for a moment, taking a steadying breath. “You got me thinking about life outside of Hogwarts.” He began again. “It’s only going to get worse once we leave here and we’re out there. You’re going to put yourself in worse and worse situations for others.” He rubbed his hand down his face roughly at the thought and let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to bear it.”

You sat up straight, trying to keep your composure as your nerves went into a stomach-turning frenzy. You knew what he was getting at.

“I don’t want to be in love with you… I don’t.” He admitted. He looked up to the potion pots and saw the wiggenwelds were done. He stood to his feet to grab them and bring them over. He knelt before you, holding up one of the flasks. “You’re to drink all three of these.” He looked up at you with a face of you don’t have a say, drink it.

You took the first one from him, downing it, then did the same for the following two. Once you finished he got up and discarded the flasks. He returned to your side on the couch and took your hand in his. He looked down at it in his lap, tracing shapes on your skin lightly with his thumb. “What I do know is that being apart from you feels so much worse. Now that… that I know I can’t bear.” He looked at you then, his face told you he was upset with himself for feeling this way, for choosing to stay by your side.

You had caused this. You had done him wrong. And he was right, things were going to get worse after Hogwarts. You really were a cruel one to love.

“I don’t know how long I'll be furious with you, but I’m thinking it’ll be a while.” He let himself get lost in your eyes for a moment. “Glad you’re okay at least.” He released your hand and got up to leave.

You were going to let him go, but you stood to your feet and stormed after him. You grabbed at him to face you and then crashed your lips onto his. You cupped his face and he shot his hands to your waist, his fingers digging deep into your sides.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes narrowed at you and he exhaled, frustrated. He was beyond exasperated with you, but he still craved you like no other. Furrowing his brows, he returned his lips to yours, moving his mouth against yours to satiate said craving. His hands slid up your back as he wrapped his arms around you.

He hadn’t realized how starved he was for your taste until he had you there in his arms again. He licked at your bottom lip, wanting to get more of you, and you gladly granted him access. Anything he wanted, you’d give it to him. He could feel your compliance, and he was tempted to see just how sorry you were.

But his hands slowly moved up to yours and removed them from his face. He tore his lips from yours and looked over your flushed features, wanting more but not allowing himself more, then he released you. “Nice try.” He turned and made his way out. “Stay sweet and I might let you call me ‘Gar’ again.” He called over his shoulder.

Ominis:

“You what?!” Ominis was fuming now, you had seen him angry with you before, but never like this.

“I thought,” You exhaled in frustration, “I thought it would help your family approve of me.”

“My family should be none of your concern!”

“I’m not a pure-blood, Ominis, you know they would never approve of me. Being the Hogwarts Champion has to mean something. If they ever find out we’re together, they’d arrange a marriage for you like that.” You said with a snap of your fingers. “This tournament could help prove my worth.”

He shook his head, pacing back and forth. “And you’d think I’d just roll over and let that happen?! This was not the answer, I’ll never understand why you thought it was.”

“There’s no need to get this upset. I might not even get picked anyway.”

His pacing came to a sudden halt, his eyebrows shot up in incredulity. “Is that supposed to be a joke? Of course your name’s going to get picked!” His fury turned into something with a bit more worry then. “I can’t help you when you're out there, you’re going to have to do all those challenges on your own.”

“Whatever they throw at me, I’ll be able to handle it. I’m sure I’ve already survived through worse than what they’re planning.”

“That’s just it! You had no control over everything that’s happened and you survived through it! This? You’re actively seeking out danger now, it’s pointless! When did you become so dim-witted as to not see that?!” Ominis regretted his words immediately, desperately wanting to take them back but unable to do so.

You were stunned for a moment he had actually spoken to you in such a way. A petty smile formed on your face. “Seems we’re done here.”

Ominis called your name in a panic as he heard you storm out of the undercroft, but you ignored him. He dug around frantically in his pocket for his wand, holding it up and having it guide him to follow where you had gone. He knew his wand didn’t work as a tracker, but he had the slightest bit of hope that if it sensed how much he needed to get to you it might help him out. But no such luck.

It had been a week since you and Ominis fought and the dreaded day had finally arrived to announce the TriWizard tournament champions. Every now and then his wand would sense you were in the same room as him, but he didn’t need his wand to be able to tell you were keeping your distance.

How could I have spoken to you the way I had? Every time he thought back to it, he wanted to ask Sebastian to punch him, just bash his face right in.

Even though Ominis knew it was coming, he was still hit with an overwhelming sense of dread when Headmaster Black announced your name. He didn’t clap with everyone else and he hoped you noticed.

He left the Great Hall with everyone else and his wand sensed Poppy was near him. An idea instantly formed in his head. “Excuse me, Poppy?”

Poppy turned her head in surprise hearing Ominis call to her. “Y - Yes, Ominis?”

It was a relief hearing your best friend’s voice still sound so friendly to him. You must not have told anyone about how he spoke to you, which only made him feel worse. He was the villain here. “I need your help with something.”

He was leaning against a tree in the woods behind the beasts class stables, hands in his pockets and tapping his foot anxiously. He heard your footsteps crunching the leaves on your way over.

“Poppy? Poppy, I’m here with the feed, what’s happened to High Wing?” You asked in a panic. When Poppy didn’t respond, you looked up from the feed in your arms and Ominis stepped forward.

You groaned and turned on your heel to leave.

“Please - just wait -”

“Want to insult me some more, do you?” You snipped without looking back at him.

“I’m going to have my family speak to Headmaster Black.” Ominis blurted, and you froze. “They’ll get you out of the games.”

He could hear you drop the feed to the ground. “Don’t you dare.” A chill went down his spine at your warning tone but he stood his ground.

“You don’t have a say in the matter. You’re not competing.”

He could hear you stomp up to him, could feel your presence, and you were close. His breath hitched when he realized you were close enough for him to feel your breath against his skin. It had hit him all at once how he hadn’t been able to touch you for a week, and he didn’t know if he was able to keep himself from closing the distance between you two right then and there.

“Back off, Gaunt. How about you sit down and shut up while I show this entire valley what this ‘dim-wit’ can do?”

Ominis’ lips parted slightly. Oh...

He fisted the fabric of your shirt and shot his lips in the direction of where he felt your breath and heard your voice. It was all too perfect getting your lips on the first try, especially with you having riled him up, speaking to him as you had.

He nipped at your lip and it drew the softest of moans from you, but he caught it. He always heard every little noise he could get out of you. Your hands went up and ran through his hair, you had missed him too, he could tell. Remembering where the tree he was leaning against was, he walked you back until you were pressed against it.

He released your shirt and brought his hands to your waist. His kisses turned less ravenous and more apologetic. He slowed and deepened his mouth movements. “I’m sorry.” He whispered against your lips. “I’m so sorry. I had no right speaking to you that way.” He said in between kisses. “There’s no excuse. I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you.”

“Ominis, stop talking.” You sighed, greedily taking his lips again. Though his body weight was against you, keeping you trapped between him and the tree, he was the compliant one.

Ominis pulled back, as much as he wanted to keep connected to you, you two had unfinished business. “I won’t go to my family… if it’s what you really want.” Ominis said, still a bit breathless from your kiss. “Just… don’t do it for them, I beg of you. They aren't worth it.” Ominis leaned forward to kiss at your neck tenderly as he waited for your answer.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “It’s what I want. If not me, then who?”

His mouth on your neck stilled. As much as he hated to agree with you on this, he did. If he sent his family to speak with Headmaster Black to have another student take your place, he’d practically be sending that student to their death. You were the most capable person he had ever known, and you didn’t even need dark magic to accomplish all that you had. If anyone was going to survive this thing, it was you.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a loving embrace. He nuzzled his face into your neck and took in your scent, reveling in this moment you had together. He thought he had ruined everything after your fight.

More than anything, he wanted to go back in time and do everything he could to stop you from ever entering your name into that Goblet. But in the end, it was always your choice, not his.

The days leading up to your first challenge, Ominis kept close to your side, constantly asking you questions on how prepared you were.

“Did you brew enough wiggenweld potions? How about we start on some thunderbrews for you as well?”

“I know how effective the chomping cabbages are, but let’s get some mandrakes and venomous tentaculas grown to be on the safe side.”

“Were you able to put that enchantment I showed you on your competition robes?”

The day of the challenge, he was able to keep his composure, but only because you asked him to. You were anxious as well, and him being sick with worry for you would only add to the frenzy of nerves within you.

He asked Sebastian to narrate everything that was happening while you were out there. Hearing Sebastian’s depiction and the blasting sounds of spells from the arena unraveled his calm exterior more and more by the second. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, leg bouncing up and down rapidly. He didn’t know how he was going to have to sit through two more of these.

Use the Unforgivables if you have to, I don’t care. He found himself thinking. Whatever it takes, just come back to me.

The sound of the crowd cheering and the feel of Sebastian roughly patting his back in excitement told him you had completed the first challenge. He immediately stood to his feet and took out his wand, his legs were jelly but he pushed through and went straight for the champions’ tent. As soon as he arrived you had run up and thrown your arms around him.

He didn’t hesitate to drop his wand to the ground and wrap his arms around you. He closed his eyes, holding you so close to him he had started to lift you off the ground a bit. He was beyond thankful to every little thing in the universe that aligned to help him get back to you.

“If you still believe my family would be able to tear me from you, you might actually be a dim-wit.”

He could feel you chuckle against him. “I’d like to see them try after what I just accomplished back there.”

Sebastian:

Sebastian had let his emotions get the better of him again. It was his fault you had been avoiding him for days now, and he couldn’t bear it any longer. He tried giving you your space but he needed to at least let you know how sorry he was. As soon as the TriWizard champions announcement ceremony was over, he’d find you and apologize. He needed to be better, he knew that.

But then your name was called.

Wait, that can’t be right. You didn’t even put your name in so how…? His breathing grew a bit heavier. No, no Professor Black read the wrong name. You told each other everything. And he specifically had you promise him you wouldn’t enter.

He watched for your features to see if you were just as confused as he was, but you weren’t. You were smiling, happily receiving congratulatory pats on the back as you walked up to stand with the champions already chosen, not glancing his way once.

He mentally willed you to look his way as you stood up there. Give me something, give me anything. Tell me with your eyes why you did this. But no use, you were up there looking as if you had no reason not to be.

When everyone was dismissed he stayed back a bit, wanting to go up to you. But you and the other champions were escorted away to discuss what was to be expected going into this tournament.

Sebastian waited outside the Great Hall until you were done. Once he saw you walking out, he pushed up off the wall he was leaning against and came up behind you, calling your name.

“Did you enter because of me? Is this my fault?”

You stopped in place, taking a moment to turn and face him. You had some trouble meeting his gaze. “You weren’t the main reason, but I’d be lying if I said you weren’t a part of it.”

“Then why? Why else would you do this?”

You looked over his dispirited features in silence for a moment. “Since the moment I arrived at Hogwarts, I felt as if I’ve been running around taking care of everyone else. And after our last fight, I… I don’t know. Something in me snapped, Sebastian. Putting my name in that Goblet, it -” You exhaled, feeling like he wouldn’t understand but you decided to tell him anyway, “it was the first time I felt like I was doing something for me.”

Sebastian looked down, it seemed you didn’t tell each other everything like he once believed. How could he have not known you felt this way? He was the one seeing you and he didn’t even realize something had been off with you.

“I know I made a promise not to do it. And for breaking that promise, I apologize. But… I don’t regret doing it.” You were ashamed at the admission, but you wanted him to know.

He realized it then when he met your gaze, he had lost you. You had been slipping away from him for a while, and he had been so blinded by his own issues he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

A nasty, stomach turning feeling hit him all at once. “Is this… Are you ending things between us?”

His heart constricted painfully when you didn’t answer him right away, didn’t reassure him that he had it all wrong and you would never part from him. You were looking at him like you knew the next thing you were about to say would make him feel terrible.

“Sebastian, I’ll always be around to help you with Anne -”

He huffed in disbelief and turned on his heel to get out of there, as far away from you as possible. He didn’t want to hear you finish that sentence, how you had started it had already broken him enough.

He fell back onto his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. He couldn’t stop the tears from stinging at them but he could sure as hell keep them from falling. It hurt more thinking back to the conversation and realizing that not once had you called him ‘Seb’ like you normally did. How long has it been since you had? Even more indication of how far you had drifted away. How did this happen?

When was the last time you asked him to help you with anything? There were a few times in fifth year you had asked for his help getting the triptychs, but those outings had benefited him as well in trying to get a cure for Anne. Was there ever a time he had helped you with anything that was purely for you? He was disgusted with himself, not being able to name a single time. No wonder he lost you.

And now you were going to compete in a tournament famous for being so dangerous, it was common for the participants to die. Throwing yourself into jeopardy like this, you hadn’t asked for his help. No. You had banished him from your side. How could you expect him to keep his distance in circumstances such as these?

The tears were overflowing, escaping out of his shut eyelids and he pressed his arm over them tighter. Just come back. I need you back. I’ll be better, I promise.

Ominis had advised Sebastian to give you your space, if you wanted his help you would ask for it. But all these horrifying scenarios kept popping up in his head, scenarios where you die and he could have done something to prevent it. He didn’t care if you ignored him, didn’t care if you hated him, as long as you were alive, you could feel however you damn well pleased about him.

He had scoured the library for any enchantment you could put on your competition robes, any herbology methods to make your carnivorous plants more vicious, anything to make your potions more effective.

He lost sleep over it, he didn’t mind. He’d much rather sneak into the restricted section late at night than face those nightmares of your corpse he’d been having the past week. Once he felt he had enough notes written out of all these things that could help you, he decided to find you.

He waited for you to come outside of the Room of Requirement with a notebook of everything he had researched for you. It was late but there was still a good amount of time before curfew. As the halls were getting darker and emptier, he sat on the ground, head back against the wall until you came out.

He startled a bit when the door finally formed. He sprang to his feet and straightened out his clothes as he watched you walk out. Your eyes met his and it pained him that you looked uneasy to see him.

“I um -” He cleared his throat, a bit unsure of himself now that he had your full attention. “I have something for you.” He held out the notebook to you.

You glanced down at it in his hands, then eyed him as you took it. “What’s this?”

Sebastian moved himself to your side, looking over your shoulder, opening the notebook as you held it in your hand and gave as brief an explanation as he could. He pointed out where you could find the herbology notes, the enchantment notes, and the potion notes. As he explained, your eyes drifted gradually up from the notebook to his face.

After a moment, he noticed you looking at him and not the notebook. “What?”

“Nothing.” You looked back down at the notebook. “Thank you for this.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything and stayed where he was next to you. You looked back up at him, wondering if there was something else he wanted. He hadn’t been this close to you for weeks. He missed your scent, your warmth, your lips being this close to his. He wanted to claim them again, but he knew he couldn’t. You weren’t his anymore.

Rather than pulling you close, he kept his hands to himself and gave a single nod of his head to you. Then he turned on his heel and left.

You watched him walk away in silence. You were expecting him to ask for something in return, help with some cave that had some book that mentioned some untapped magic. Just like he had always done. But he had just given you the notebook and left it at that.

Where was this Sebastian before? Truth be told, you always felt like he could walk out on you at any moment. Especially if he ever felt like he no longer had a need for your ancient magic, there were many nights you’d be up wondering if that was the only reason he was with you. This along with the way he would snap at you whenever he was frustrated, taking it out on you. He had gotten better about it since fifth year, but it still occurred.

Whether he was doing this to get you or your ancient magic back, only time would tell.

The day of your first challenge arrived, and Sebastian hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the night before. He debated not turning up at all, but the idea had made him feel nauseous. He needed to stay close to you throughout this whole thing.

Whether or not he actually watched was still up in the air. He stood behind one of the wooden beams in the audience stands, arms crossed over his chest tightly in hopes of keeping himself from throwing up. When it was announced you were up next, he squeezed his eyes shut and the blood drained from his face. This could be it, these could be your last few moments alive. He could hear you start the challenge below and sweat began to form on his forehead.

“Sebastian, you've got to see this!” Lucan Brattleby shouted to him over the crowd’s cheers.

Sebastian’s head snapped his direction, and he noticed the crowd’s faces. They weren’t biting their nails or covering their eyes in horror, they were ecstatic, brows raised and eyes wide in awe. Sebastian came out from behind the pillar and looked down into the arena below.

A rousing sensation coursed through him as he watched you. You’re glorious. He always knew you were capable and talented. He’d caught glimpses of your skill with a wand when you competed in Crossed Wands or fought side by side on your outings together. But he had never just… watched you. His worry for you in this tournament was fizzling away the more he witnessed you practically dance through this challenge in the arena below. Your footwork was clean, your defensive reflexes quick, and your offensive casts brutal.

He could watch you do this all day.

When the challenge ended, you had placed first with a sweeping victory. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to run to you and congratulate you, tell you how amazing you were himself. Even if you only gave him a fleeting glance, even if you ignored him.

His nerves went into a frenzy seeing you come out of the tent. You had spotted him right away, and you seemed genuinely pleased to see him. He was taken aback and thought his heart would burst out of his chest.

You made your way up to him and he stuttered trying to get his words out. “I - I just wanted to come by and tell you -”

“Come here.” He was silenced when you grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He was stunned but quickly shook himself out of it, wrapping his arms around you to keep you on him like this.

You were in complete control of this kiss, and Sebastian had no complaints. Your hands moved to cup his jaw, holding him in a way that you could move his head so his mouth was right where you wanted it at all times. His heart was racing in anticipation while yours raced with adrenaline. His body was turning into a furnace for you. He knew this wasn’t a makeup kiss, this was a passionate, emotions are high kind of kiss. But he’d give it to you all the same, anything you wanted, it was yours.

You had never felt so on top of the world in your life. The sound of the crowd cheering you on so loudly the arena began to shake, completing the first challenge like it was nothing, and taking charge of Sebastian Sallow’s lips, it was all unbelievably intoxicating.

“Thank you.” You said breathily, breaking from him. “For that notebook, it helped more than you know, thank you.”

“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me.” He shook his head, then placed his forehead on yours. “You deserve so much more.”

You stroked his cheek with your thumb, taking in his freckles, soaking in this short moment where you two were close again.

“Can you see yourself coming back to me?” He found himself asking.

You took a moment to answer as you kept your hold on each other. “I don’t know… I still love you. I think I always will. But -” You thought on your words carefully and Sebastian stiffened, tightening his hold on you, afraid of letting you slip away again. “I don’t know if I have anything more to give.”

“I’m not asking you to give anything.” He said quickly, voice just above a whisper. “I don’t care if you never help me with finding a cure again. Just… Please, don’t tear yourself away from me.”

You looked into his eyes, not wanting to break this moment, unsure of what was supposed to happen next. “I need more time.”

He closed his eyes briefly at that answer, then gave a small nod. It wasn’t what he wanted you to say, but there was still hope in it. He’d wait, as long as it took. And he’d continue helping you in this tournament whether you liked it or not.

#sebastian sallow imagine #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fanfiction #garreth weasley x you #garreth weasley imagine #garreth weasley fanficiton #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt fanficiton #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you

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southparkxreader · 1 year

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pairings: post covid ! kyle broflovski, kenny mccormick, stan marsh x reader. trigger warnings : age gaps . reader is in her middle twenties , everyone else is forty nine . specific uses of she/her pronouns , uses of y/n + l/n ( get that interactive fic extension loaded , lads ) . disclaimer : i haven’t written anything like this in a long time . only interact with this post if you are 18 or above , minors are not welcomed on my blog . small intro of a future series im going to start in a fic form , putting this out there to see if anyone is interested and to get a taste for how alive the fandom is .

stay with me ... fanfic series being kenny’s assistant.

kenny has a nasty habit of losing track - it can range from his paper work , to notes when he’s going on one of his tangents and just needing to let it all out before it fleets from mind, to as simple as forgetting what day of the week it is : forgetting dates, scheduled events, that sort of thing. he really cannot coordinate his own life if it meant saving it, he’s just got too much going on, ten fold when it comes to his work -

it was kyle’s idea, actually - listening to kenny apologize yet again for forgetting one of the days they were supposed to meet up on. he sighs, exasperated, annoyed, any rational person would be when plans kept going haywire because someone couldn’t even bother to turn up “have you thought about a personal assistant ?” leaning on his kitchen counter, watching the new snow fall as he leaned into the phone “it’ll help. if it doesn’t, i’m just going to stop making plans with you.”

is he being serious ? no, but still - he’s on thin ice.

kenny starts interviewing a week later, because it really isn’t a bad idea - he’s ashamed that he never thought of it sooner. the applications come flooding through, who wouldn’t want a front row seat to a genius like him ? the things they’d get to witness first hand, new discoveries, seeing his mind in person and with a front row seat. it was too good to be true, nobody in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to put their application through.

after about a dozen interviews, he’s just about ready to give up.

then,,,, you come in - it was like he took a shot of vodka with how you snapped him awake - his eyes trail over you for a moment, he could see straight away how nervous you were - despite how much you were trying to hide it. cheeks were clearly flushed, fidgeting with your fingers before you held out a hand towards the man, smile shaky but bright as you did your best to put on a brave face, a little tremble in your hand as anxiety shot through you didn’t go missed, either “its a pleasure to meet you, mr mccormick, truly, it’s an honour. ”

well, right then and there, kenny thought you were just the sweetest little thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. he had his mind made up before your hands locked together, his large palm swallowing yours so easily as he sent you a dazzling smile, if any of his friends were in the room they’d make faces, sending him an accusing glare , they know the look too well and it’s anything but innocent “it’s a pleasure meet you too, mrs. l/n. you flatter me too much, please, sit - let’s begin, it says here that you - “

he has to at least pretend to be professional.

you got the phone call later that night with confirmation that you got the job. did you dance around your apartment, scream the minute the phone call ended ? absolutely you did. now you have a chance to actually enjoy work, to do something with your life rather than dragging yourself through it, to work along side the brightest mind of their generation.

he called kyle up the minute things were confirmed. telling him it was the best and only good idea he'll ever have again. to which he responds with a "fuck you... wait, what are you talking about ... why do you sound like that?" kyle knows, he knows kenny too well not to know.

when stan, kyle and kenny next have a meet up, it’s an annoying shocked and open surprise that kenny graced them with his presence, for having the ability to turn up on time. after a lot of shit talking, kenny finally falls into speaking about you, a little too much, stan and kyle have no choice but to want to meet you.

when they do ... ?

oh... oh they get it .

#post covid ! kyle broflovski x reader #post covid ! kenny mccormick x reader #post covid ! stan marsh x reader #sp x reader #south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #stan marsh x reader

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i-magines · 1 year

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Wildest Dreams: Chapter 3

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, eventual drinking and drugs, a little smut but nothing crazy (yet), a bit slow burn but not really.

word count: 1,509

Over the first month, your friendship with Pedro only grew stronger. You were afraid once the production set was moved to the country, he was going to just disappear, as you were no longer roommates. You’d be lying to yourself if you said he didn’t make you feel anything, especially with how charming and flirting he was. You both had shared a lot of personal stuff over smoking joints and you were already used to hanging out together after a day of filming. But today things were going to be different, because the producers had organized a little happy hour for the crew.

Speaking of them, you had asked Pedro to keep your friendship on the low, at least during the job. You knew what everyone would say and think, mostly about you alone, so you were looking after yourself. He understood that and apparently didn’t care to be sneaking out like a teenager to spend some time with you.

“There you are”, Pedro happily greeted you on the corner of the happy hour room, about two hours into the event. “I almost didn’t get the chance to see you today. How’s everything going?”

At this point, you were certain the director hated you, but thank God he was the only one. Everyone else seemed to really like you and your work, which helped a lot with your anxiety.

“He spent the day trying to drive me crazy… Again”, you told Pedro. “You?”

“I would definitely rather be directed by you, if I’m being honest” he said in sympathy. “But yeah, it won’t take long for me to tell him to fuck off. Super nicely, of course.”

You both laughed. You could see he had been drinking and so did everybody in the room. Somebody turned up the music and Pedro dragged you to the improvised dance floor. You danced for about half an hour, until you saw him going to talk to Donna, one of the producers. They seemed friendly— too friendly, if somebody asked your opinion. You noticed it before, how close they acted sometimes, but at the end of the day, it was none of your business. Flo, the make-up artist that got you the job, got your attention and you walked to her.

“What’s up with that face?” She shot you the question. Flo was in her mid 40s and you got to know her in your first gig, since then she was always trying to connect you with people. You really liked her and, most importantly, trusted her. “You looked like you were about to commit murder on the dance floor. I know Dave is giving you a hard time, but honestly he is doing this to every single soul.”

“I was just wondering, is Donna taken?”, you asked as if you had no intention behind it.

“Yeah, I think so”, she told you. “Why? You gay too?”

“Someti— wait, what?” You stared at each other for a few seconds. “Is she?”

“As far as I know”, she said simply. “And by that I mean I’ve known her for about 10 years now. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, you didn’t. I mean, good for her, right.”

You decided you need to put your shit together now on. You excused yourself and went to get another drink — you can be a new woman tomorrow. You took some shots and got a drink to hold while you watched everyone dancing and having a good time. You tried to force yourself to stop thinking about your crush on Pedro.

“I need professional help”, you whispered to yourself.

“And why is that?”

“Shit, Pedro!” You jumped, realizing he was right by your side. “You scared the shit out of me, you shithead.”

“Wow, language, sweetheart”, he laughed at your reaction, putting his arm over your shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Not much, just enjoying the free drinks”, you replied, also enjoying the proximity of his body. “I can see you’re enjoying them yourself.”

“Nah, I’m thinking about getting out of here, people are starting to get too drunk and God forbid I witness anything I can’t unsee”, he was being playful and seemed happy when he got a smile out of you. “Care to join me? Or you already have plans for tonight?”

“Yeah, you know me, Miss Popularity herself”, you both laughed. “Seriously, though. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Is it okay if we leave together? Considering your privacy policy”, he whispered in your ear. Only if he knew how weak that makes you. You just nodded. “After you, mi princesa.”

Fuck you, Pedro Pascal, you thought as you made the effort to move your shaking legs. Two options: first, he had no idea of his effects on you, or second, he did know that and he just liked to torture you. However it is, you were not willing to make a move to figure it out.

The location of the shooting was a huge farm, so you walked together through the open field, towards his cabin. You got inside and took your shoes off.

“Hey, mister ‘I’m just a common worker as everybody else’, tell me again why exactly you are the only one with a private hot tube”, you teased him. He laughed. “Is it because you’re such good friends with Donna?”.

“So that’s what it was about back in the happy hour?” Pedro looked deeply into your eyes. “Such a jealous little girl, uh?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You can’t deny your brain formulated that sentence, but the alcohol spilled it out your mouth.

“Answering your question, I’m not really friends with Donna, but her partner is one of my closest colleagues in the industry”, he said in a patient tone. “And you’re welcome to use the hot tube whenever you feel like it.”

You could feel your cheeks burning. Fuck.

“I didn’t mean to— to be honest, I don’t even know what I meant, so don’t mind drunk Y/N”, you breathed out strongly.

“Why don’t we forget about it and instead go chill in the hot tube?” He offered you a smile. Pedro was so easy to deal with, always trying to make you comfortable. “I have more of that nice whisky you like.”

You quickly put on your bikini in your room and head back to Pedro’s cabin. You could hear the happy hour turning into a party on the back, as you joined him inside the tub. You did your best to not stare at his toned, tanned body. He was smoking a cigar and handed you a glass.

“You know what’s funny”, he started, you already knew you wouldn’t find it funny at all. “This is the second time I see you in a tub.”

“Well, fuck you very much sir”, you held a serious face before letting a smile scape. “That was traumatic.”

“Why is that? I would say you made quite an impression”, he laughed, something different sparkling in his eyes. “Would it bother you if I said I still think about it?”

You felt your body hot, as if the water was on boiling point.

“God”, you whispered. He never took his eyes off yours. “I don’t know what to say, Pedro.”

“It’s a simple question, sweetheart”, he replied, coming a little closer. You got chills all over your body. “Honestly, I don’t know if you only see me as this friendly, older, disgusting man—”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” you cut him before he could finish. “Feel free to think about whatever you like.”

“Good”, he said quietly, his body even closer, but still not touching yours. “Tell me what you were doing on the tub that day, sweetheart.”

“I-I was, uh,” you felt like you were about to explode, your brain trying to process if this was really happening. “I was touching myself.”

“Finally, princesa”, he let out a deep breath against your neck. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to hear you say this, to be sure my memory wasn’t fucking with me.”

He touched your waist with his hand, putting the cigar away with the other one. You felt delirious.

“What are you going to do now that you know?” The question popped out of your mouth.

He grabbed your arm to move your body, making you sit on his lap. Face to face. He was hard as fuck.

“I will take you back to your cabin, give you a goodnight kiss…” He made a pause. His stare was deep down your soul. “Come back to mine and think ‘bout you while I mind my own business.”

He was dead serious.

“I’m too horny to go to sleep”, you cried to him, all your blood concentrated between your legs. You moved on his lap, rubbing against his cook.

“Trust me”, he said as his hands firmly held your hips down, making you stop and yet feel him ever harder. “I feel the same way.”

He gave you a little forehead kiss.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

CHAPTER 4 AVALIABLE NOW

TAGLIST: @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86 (edit: i’m not sure why i wasn’t able to tag everybody i’m trying my best here)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

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somestorythoughts · 9 months

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Protective Rage Obi-Wan Fic

So. @fanfic-obsessed has this cool Protective Rage Obi-Wan story idea that yall should check out because it's really good and they've got a ton of cool AU ideas. And I had an idea about an apology scene for it and then the plot bunny that makes you do things like overcomplicate worldbuilding said "you know you could do a whole fic" and now I have 4000 words. I was thinking of splitting it up into parts cause that's a long post but frankly I'm tired and should've been in bed like 90min ago cause I have work tomorrow and mornings suck so it's staying a one shot with the paragraphs spaces cause I am NOT reformatting that now. Enjoy.

Usually, when Quinlan’s pushing himself to finish a mission through this much pain, he’s running on determination, maybe some spite. This time it’s desperation.

He’s not sure if the shouting starts before or after he hits the door panel – or maybe it’s been going on the whole time – but he can see Obi-Wan through the spots in his eyes and that’s good, that’s good, he can’t finish this and maybe his friend can –

“Quin!”

It’s like leaning on stone, Obi-Wan’s mind wonderfully shielded under the worry in his voice and Quinlan holds up a datachip for the hands around his arms. “Coded. Please.”

“I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

He’s staring up at the ceiling now but that’s alright. Obi-Wan has the data. Quinlan can break now.*

Ahsoka isn’t panicking, but only because she’s had a lot of practice keeping her head and she’s not friends with Master Vos. She’s met him though, and knows Obi-Wan and he are close, and she’s scared for him.

“That’s an order Marrow!” Obi-Wan snaps and the medic someone called hisses in frustration from where Ahsoka’s holding him back. She isn’t sure why Obi-Wan’s so adamant that no one get closer to them, but she knows it’s serious. For all Obi-Wan hates the medbay he’ll work with the medics, let them see him elsewhere, and he knows better than to keep serious injuries from them.

“General his leg is gangrenous if he doesn’t get immediate treatment he could lose it! As the head medic-”

“Quin has to be seen by a Temple healer anyone else will make it worse. I don’t like it anymore than you do Marrow.” He’s resting a hand on Master Vos’ head and is holding his hand with the other, trying to sooth his mumbling friend.

“Can you explain why while we wait for Healer Eerin?” She asked.

Obi-Wan frowns, the look he gets when he’s trying to figure out how to explain something Force-related in English. “Marrow. The troopers who have trouble with excessive sound. If they were injured would you treat them in a noisy medbay?”

Marrow scowls, but he stops splitting his attention between Master Vos’ leg and how best to get around Ahsoka and says, “Of course not. Not if there was any way to avoid it.”

“Quin’s psychometric. It’s a useful skill, but sometimes it’s like Force hypersensitivity.”

Cody interrupts as Anakin enters. “Healer Eerin just arrived. She’s being escorted here.”

“Any idea what happened?” Anakin says. He’s waiting by Ahsoka, whether because he already knows approaching is a bad idea or because he got the gist from the way the medics haven’t gotten closer is anyone’s guess.

“Have to keep them safe.” Master Vos mutters and Obi-Wan’s face tightens, though his shields are still rock-solid.

“Who Quin? Who do you need to keep safe?”

But Master Vos never stopped talking, only just loud enough to be heard. He’s shivering too, voice breaking with groans. Whatever he was doing to walk on that leg – Ahsoka is very determinedly not looking at the swelling or the white that might be bone – he clearly can’t keep it up anymore. “Gotta keep them safe from the people and the senators and the Chancellor gotta do something useful with my unnatural powers what good are we if we can’t keep them safe apparently nothing I hoped I hoped I wasn’t gonna get my heart broken again I Obi they deserve better than this-”

His words are cut off by the sound of the door opening as Healer Eerin and a Padawan healer sweep into the room in unfamiliar robes and go instantly to the downed Jedi. Marrow scowls heavy as thunder at not being able to treat a patient on his ship as they do, Healer Eerin passing something to Obi-Wan as she takes his place by Master Vos’ head. Obi-Wan squeezes his hand and stands, moving in line with the troopers around them so that he can slide the chip into the device and examine whatever Master Vos was so desperate to bring him.

“Pop quiz Padawan Lele. Why do we use special gear for Master Vos?”

Padawan Lele didn’t stop what they were doing as they replied: “Because his psychometry is super strong and the pain has seriously damaged his shields. Without the robes or equally strong shields he’ll feel too much of our minds and memories as well. This could delay his healing or damage his mind.”

Marrow goes stiff and Ahsoka thinks that’s the first time she’s seen him look sheepish.

For a few minutes, the room is a quiet tension, little sound aside from the Healers working or Master Vos’ delirious mumbling, fading in and out of hearing. Cody’s giving him the same worried look Ahsoka is, Master Vos sounds like his heart is as broken as his leg and she knows enough about how people work to think that the amount of self-deprecation she can hear isn’t a new thing.

The rage, when it comes, is sudden as a lightning bolt and just as sharp. It’s gone just as quickly too – almost before Ahsoka and the other Padawan finish whipping around to stare at Obi-Wan who looks perfectly calm. Cody’s looking at him too, narrow-eyed in suspicion.

“Excuse me.” He says, still perfectly calm, and Ahsoka thinks of the weight of a sky prepared to burst and wonders if she should follow him, but the door is closed before she can decide.

“Been a while since I saw Obi-Wan get that angry.” Healer Eerin remarks.

“Huh?” Several of the troopers say. Anakin does too and the day has not been nearly overwhelming enough for Ahsoka not to role her eyes at how her oblivious master can lift a tank but not read anger when it’s shoved in his face.

“A little after Anakin first came to the Temple one of the teachers decided he was a poor fit for the Order and was trying to sabotage his work along with bullying him in class. Obi-Wan found out, asked Quin to watch Anakin for an evening, and went after the teacher. The man landed in the Halls of Healing with several broken bones and left as soon as he was cleared to move left for the furthest jedi outpost he could find. If he ever taught again I will be very surprised. Commander he’s safe to move but it would help if we had a clear path to the door.”

“You’re gonna catch flies Skyguy.” Ahsoka says faintly as Cody taps his comm to pass on the message. When he’s finished they all hear the trooper on the other end say, “By the way sir General Kenobi just left for Coruscant’s surface, said he had some business to attend to at the Senate.”

Cody nods, wearing the expression of concern and exasperation he gets whenever anyone he feels remotely responsible for does something dangerous without explaining why. “Check and see if there’s a way to find out what they’re doing.” He orders Crys as the Healers begin to maneuver Master Vos through the door.

“It’s one of the sessions journalists are reporting live sir.” Crys answers, pulling up the feed without needing to be asked, and they all group together to watch it.

Obi-Wan is, to put it bluntly, really fucking pissed. The anger in him pools like water, building and building, and he wills himself to keep calm control as he strides through the Senate building. If he gets too angry to think, things will go wrong.

Quinlan came to him because the things that had already gone wrong were even worse than any of them had been allowed to see, and he couldn’t fix it himself. He came to Obi-Wan for help putting things right.

Obi-Wan will be damned thrice over if he fails that mission.

He’s already sent the information on the datachip to the Council (though he doesn’t know when they’ll be able to see it), to all of the Commanders he has the contact information for (he’s not sure which of them made those particular lines of contact so secure but he trusts Cody’s view of them), and Madame Nu. They can’t afford to let this stay between the two of them, they need the backup. He knows the Council cares, is struggling as much as he is under the weight of the war, and the Commanders deserve to know and can keep their secrets. He includes Madame Nu because he doubts anyone would expect it, and the few interactions he’d seen between her and her single squad of troopers made him certain she adores them.

Plus, she studies Sith Temples. She’s gotta be more dangerous than she looks.

He walks into the rotunda where the Senate are debating the (very reasonable he’s read this one) Clone Rights bill, sees Palpatine, and allows his rage to fuel his leap for the podium.

“Tell me,” He says, cool as can be, as he smashes Palpatine’s face into the stand and kicks Amedda away when the asshole tries to interfere, “what the fuck the jedi did to you that you want our children murdered in their cribs?”

Order 66. Kill all the jedi. All of them.

“Who the fuck gave you the right to have an army bred and implant them all with control chips so that they couldn’t disobey, couldn’t be allowed to even think?”

Control chips that would wipe out the troopers’ minds, take away every thought and feeling and every piece of self that they’d fought to keep, chips that would turn the troopers his friends into the flesh droids senators liked to claim they were.

Palpatine snarled and shot off lightning. Obi-Wan deflected it and continued to ignore the screaming as he mused that perhaps Palpatine had decided there was no point in hiding when Obi-Wan was broadcasting these secrets to the Senate. Then he punched Palpatine below his sternum and then his ribs.

Ah, red lightsaber. There it is. He ducked and broke Palpatine’s arm.

“And while we’re at it, who the fuck allowed you to use those chips to control the Coruscant Guard and make them do your dirty work? Or withhold rations and bacta?”

It’s entirely possible he shouldn’t have included the information about the blackout missions and the extent of Palpatine’s control over the clones. That might have been the kind of thing they’d want to share themselves. Unless they couldn’t say anything?

“Even for the Sith you’re an exceptionally twisted shitstain.” He ducks the other lightsaber and wonders why this asshole had to learn to fight with two.

“You forced my family at blaster point to lead a war you orchestrate from both sides, forced our friends into slavery and now you want to take away everything our friends are when you use them to kill us and frankly Palpatine, I think the fuck not!”

The red lightsaber screams in his hand as he slices Palpatine’s head clean off.

Obi-Wan frowns as he takes in the scene. Huh, Amedda’s still here and oh that’s Master Windu and Master Yoda in the audience. He supposes some Jedi witnesses are a good idea. He grabs Amedda by the front of his robes and uses the Force to help him hold the heavy asshole over the edge of the podium with one hand, just to make sure he gets the point.

“Now you may have gathered that I’m very concerned about the clone troopers’ lack of rights. What about you?”

It turns out that Amedda is also very concerned about the clone troopers’ lack of rights. Good. “Full Republic citizenship and Senate representation that they elect instead of someone who make money off their bodies would be good too.” Obi-Wan adds, looking the Senator from Kamino dead in the eye. He’s pretty sure she’s calculating the distance between him and her pod when she nods.

If Obi-Wan had known all it would take to get his friends their rights was the public murder of one of his least favorite people, he’d have done that at the beginning of this thrice-damned war. The bill is passed very quickly and unanimously, and a couple Senators add a bit about backpay they’d had in the works as well and make some noise about allowing the clones to settle a moon or planet once they have the time to look the uninhabited ones over. That gets less enthusiasm but it’s not being shouted down and they can work with that, so Obi-Wan grins with all his teeth on display and says “I’m glad I only had to kill one politician today.”

The fear that ripples through the Force is unmistakable.

He puts Amedda down and heads to the Senate floor where the Coruscant Guard are waiting. Their shields aren’t bad but there’s awe shinning through them like sunshine in the dessert, bright and warm and painful with the twisting of old griefs and pains and shocked relief, and Obi-Wan says “I assume I’m going to be arrested?”

One of the men, who wears the rank of a Commander, takes of his helmet and asks, “Permission to speak freely sir?”

“Granted, forever and always.”

The man beams, and answers; “Then with all due respect sir, there is no way we’re going to arrest you.”

“Are you sure? I did just beat the Chancellor of the Republic to death.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Everyone on the Guard wants him dead within their first week here.”

“Thorn put your helmet back on, we’re not safe unless that law’s enforced.” Someone snaps and a different Commander approaches, leading Master Windu and Master Yoda. His shields are beskar-strong, but judging by his voice Obi-Wan would bet he’s glaring at Thorn.

“I’m feeling a bit spiteful.” Thorn grins and Fox gives that familiar huff that usually means the trooper in question is rolling their eyes underneath their helmet.

“Don’t look at us like that we’re not locking you up either.” Mace says dryly when Obi-Wan looks at him. “I will however, make sure your Padawan gets mindhealing sessions if I have to drag him there kicking and screaming myself. He’s overdue anyway.”

Obi-Wan winces but agrees. Quin hadn’t found solid proof of Palpatine grooming Anakin to be his Sith apprentice, but the information he had found made him suspicious. And once he read that, Obi-Wan can see a lot of things that support it.

Windu pulls him into a hug, startling Obi-Wan. The other Master doesn’t often want a lot of physical contact, and for him to initiate hugs is unusual. He sinks into it.

“Do you know how Quinlan is? Bant had to take him to the Halls.”

Windu shook his head. “I’ll ask.”

“To the Temple we will go after, inform everyone, and let you see your friend.” Yoda adds.

“Vos?”

Obi-Wan blinks at the stern commander. His shields are still thick but every single one of the other Guards are radiating concern and Obi-Wan wonders if Quinlan started this investigation because it was the Guard he wanted to protect.

“He found the information on Palpatine and brought it to me. He was seriously injured and delirious when I left him with the Healers.” The Commander twitches, just barely visible, and Obi-Wan asks, “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name?”

“Commander Fox.”

“Vos looked out for us.” Commander Thorn adds when it’s clear Fox isn’t going to continue. “He did his best to keep civilians off our backs, brought us bacta, snacks, and sweets when he could, tried to make us laugh. He’s our jedi even if it wasn’t official. But we haven’t seen him in weeks.”

Obi-Wan nods in understanding, then turns as Mace looks up.

“He’s in a coma. I can tell you more on the way, I trust the Guard but I don’t want to say this in the open.”

“I’m coming.” Commander Fox states and Commander Thorn nods.

“And perhaps a couple of the men. So we know how he’s doing?”

“I was going to ask one of you if you wanted to come. One would probably be best for now, I don’t know if the Healers are allowing visitors.”

“Just Fox then. I’ll watch out for our vode.” Thorn knocks his forehead gently against Fox’s, murmurs something none of them can hear, and leads the rest of the Guards away. The Jedi and single Commander push through the crowds and pile into a transport.

“Details Mace.”

It’s a sign of how serious it is that Mace doesn’t respond to the tone with a raised brow or eyeroll. “The gangrene is too serious; they have to amputate his leg at the knee. They aren’t sure how far he fell to break it that badly, but they know it’s been untreated for days. Best guess is he was running from someone and couldn’t find a place or the time to take care of it. He’s got some bruising and infected cuts on top of that which makes things worse, but they’re pretty sure they can deal with those. However. He’s not responding well to the healing. It’s not physical, it’s something mental. They aren’t sure what happened.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. Mace grips his shoulder till he stops quivering and asks slowly, “Do you have any idea what exactly happened the past few days?”

“He was almost completely out of it when he got to me.” Obi-Wan murmurs. “He, he said a lot of bad things about himself and a few things that reminded me about how some people talk about the Force. You know, when people call us or our skills unnatural. He wanted to protect someone, I’m not sure if it was the Jedi or the Coruscant Guard or someone else.”

The rest of the ride is quiet and tense.

Cody meets his general and general Windu at the hanger and finds himself, once again, relieved he’s wearing his armor. He’s not sure he’d survive his general finding out about the highly inappropriate reaction he had to the sight of his General beating up the Chancellor of the Republic on behalf of the troopers. His only consolation is the fact that he’s absolutely sure all the vode that aren’t asexual had the same reaction.

He is surprised to see Fox there, he hasn’t spoken to him in too long, and when he had Fox had been exhausted and tense. He’s been getting worried. He falls into step beside Fox as Obi-Wan updates him on the situation and waits till there’s no one near their group and murmurs, “You can take off the helmet if you want Fox. I promise they’re safe.”

Fox pauses, then yanks off his helmet almost violently. There’s more grey in his hair than there was last time, and a pair of scabbed-over cuts on his cheekbone. He looks like he was tired to the bone last week and hadn’t gotten any sleep this week.

“Fox-”

“Shut up.” Fox snaps, almost quiet enough to be missed by the generals, and Cody hesitates but thinks of Fox coming here to check on a severely injured jedi and decides to wait.

The Healer tells them that they can see Vos, but that they must be quiet and keep calm. The handful of Cody’s men that followed him wait so it’s Cody, Fox, Obi-Wan, and Windu that follow the healer into the room, Cody to offer moral support to his general as needed.

“Commander!” The healer yelps in alarm as Fox pushes past her, stripping off his glove and reach for the General’s limp hand, and Cody thinks of Obi-Wan using a rare order to keep Marrow at a distance and wonders what the hell Fox is thinking before Vos twitches, bare fingers curving towards where Fox has his fingers laid gently on his palm.

The healer scowled and examined the machines Vos was hooked up to. “The rest of you, no touching. Keep calm. You,” she pointed at Fox, who ignores her, heartbreak plain as day on his face “don’t move.”

Cody stays near the door, watching. Obi-Wan’s eyes have flicked towards Fox a couple times, but mostly he’s focused on General Vos. Windu is the opposite. The healer finishes examining the machines and holds her hand above Vos’ forehead, before making quiet excuses and leaving.

She comes back with Healer Eerin who preforms the same examination. “Anything wrong?” Obi-Wan asks.

“I don’t think so but I’m staying for the next 20 minutes to watch.”

It’s twenty minutes later that Healer Eerin kicks all of them out to eat except for Fox, who she brings a chair for. “I don’t know why, but your presence if helping him heal. I’m sure you have things to do but if it’s possible for you to stay a little-”

“I’m not leaving him.” Fow states, and Cody thinks of General Vos’s words on the bridge and heartbreak that hasn’t left his face and thinks oh.

They leave the door open when they go just for a bit, and Cody can tell Obi-Wan had the same idea as him because there’s concern and something that could become anger on his face. General Windu’s as inscrutable as always but Cody’s heard enough from Ponds to know the man takes threats to the jedi seriously. He shushes his troopers outside and waits.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s enough time that Cody had wondered if Fox was gonna stay silent and the shaking in his voice alarms him almost as much as the words. “I didn’t mean it I promise Quinlan. It was just a bad day and I snapped I’m sorry. You force-damned idiot it must have been days to find that and get so injured you know the Guard would’ve done anything they could for you even if I was being an asshole, you think Thorn didn’t smack me around the head when I told him? You’re our jedi Quinlan and we need you to wake up, I need you to wake up I can’t apologize properly if you’re sleeping, please, the Guard’s lost too many people please don’t let us loose our crazy jedi too.”

Fox is crying by the end of that, shaky sobs that scratch his throat, and Cody hits the panel to shut the door and turns to the two jedi.

“Well that answers that question.” Windo states. “I think the Commander will be there a while.”

“If it helps Quinlan heal I can’t speak against it.” Obi-Wan muttered. He slumps into a chair, exhausted. “It’s been a day. Who wants to eat?”

“I do.” Cody says. “And then I want to head to the barracks and make Thorn tell me what’s been going on with Fox, because I feel like I’m missing something important.”

Things get better after that, some slowly, some quickly. The Separatists decide it’s in their best interests to surrender to General Kenobi, and the war wraps up quickly with some planets staying separate and many arrests in the leadership (interestingly, a lot of crime groups that deal with jedi more than they would like to also decide to go clean after that footage. Who’d’ve thought?). The troopers learn about their new home with glee and throw themselves into learning how to be things other than soldiers with a mix of joy and apprehension. It takes time for the Coruscant Guard to be fully comfortable with their other brothers, but it’s something that the rest of the troopers work on furiously when they learn how hellish Coruscant had been for them. Anakin gets so much therapy (as do many other people) and the Jedi use time they have now that the war’s over to start distancing themselves a bit from the Senate, trying to ensure that they can’t be forced to lead an army again.

Fox is there when Quinlan wakes up, asleep and holding Quinlan’s hand and there are tears and apologies and promises. The Guard cheers when they get their general back because they love their crazy jedi as much as the other battalions. And the clones and jedi start to heal together.

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 10 months

Text

TAKE CARE OF YOU [teaser]

As an apology for taking so long these days, how about a little sneak peek? 👀 (guess what cheesy fanfic trope is a star in the upcoming chapter).

[also shout out to @saradika for making the cutest little header for me🥰]

“So pretty…” You mumbled in awe. You spun in place to meet Joel’s gaze, “Isn’t this incredible?”

“Yeah,” Joel nodded. His arms were crossed and you could feel his eyes trace you from head to toe and back up. “Some view.” He kept his gaze on you for a beat while walking toward one of the side doors. Joel opened it and peered in then you heard him curse. “Fuck.”

Curiously, you walked around the couch toward him, “What’s wrong? Did they lose our bags?” You stepped beside him to see what it was that had raptured his attention the way it did, and your eyes landed on the singular Queen sized bed in the center of the bedroom. “Oh.”

“Son of a⏤ I am so sorry.” Joel said quickly before you could push out another word. “I’m going to fix this.” He went further into the room and grasped the phone at the bedside to immediately bring it up to his ear. A beat passed and he was obviously connected to the front desk. “Hello?”

Your eyes drifted back to the bed and you felt your cheeks warm at the thought of sharing the same bed with Joel Miller. Speaking of the man, he was still arguing over the line and from the sounds of it the argument was not going his way. He seemed desperate to fix this problem and you worried that meant he was desperate to avoid sleeping in the same bed as you.

“No, no, I⏤ I understand that. But I⏤” Joel paused, his jaw locked, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed irritably. “I said I understand that. No, I⏤ Yeah. Thanks anyways.” He hung up the phone and turned back to face you entirely. You shot him a sheepish smile. Joel’s irritation melted into worry and he held his hands up. “I swear, this was not my intention, darlin’. I booked a room with two beds.” Your eyes widened in understanding. Joel was worried you thought he was trying to take advantage. It was a laughable thought that had never even occurred to you⏤ not Joel. Some would call you naive to have such faith in a sugar daddy you hadn’t known for all that long, but it couldn’t be helped. Somehow, you just knew. “The Wynn doesn’t have any other two bed suites available but we can try a different resort or⏤”

“Joel.” You interrupted his nervous rambling and reached out to set your hand on his forearm. “It’s okay. Accidents happen.” Joel’s shoulders seemed to relax. “And as for the, uh, bed situation… I don’t mind.” The words tumbled from your lips slowly, awkwardly even, and Joel just stared. Quickly, you tried to scramble and clarify. “I just mean, it doesn’t bother me to share. We’re both, you know, adults. We can⏤ We can sleep beside one another without issue.” Joel just continued to stare and you were beginning to regret bringing it up at all. You felt silly. In a poor attempt to break the tension, you joked, “I promise I don’t kick in my sleep. I don’t think.”

#the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller #take care of you

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 1 year

Note

Hey girly!! FIRST OFF I JUST WANT TO ACKNOWLEDGE HOW FLAWLESS YOUR WORK IS, honestly you are truly talented! However I just wanted to make a request for a Larissa Weems and fem!professor/reader, one shot. But the reader isn’t much shorter than Larissa (like about 5’9-5’11). Because there aren’t many fanfics of Larissa x fem!reader, where the reader is just a tad bit shorter. My idea of this fic would be something fill of fluff and Reader comes home and sees Larissa exhausted so reader attempts to calm Larissa down after a long day at work; type thing but yeah!!

I understand if your requests are filled with many other amazing ideas but I hope this makes an exception!! If not I hope you still have a glorious day AND IF YOU DO MAKE IT PLEASE TAG ME!!!

- thank you

Heyyyyy @gwenswif3yy !! Your too kind! I appreciate all your lovely words 💕 I would love to write this for you, and I hope you have a glorious day as well!

Breath, My Love ~Larissa Weems xFem Tall!Professor!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: SFW, fluffy fluff, kissing, moaning

Enjoy (:

It was nearly six o’clock on this particular Friday, meaning you had to start cleaning up the shop.

“Beauty & Botanicals” was your baby that you had built from the ground up. It was a quaint little flower shop, in which you took much pride and joy.

On your way out, you grabbed a bundle of white roses, your partner’s favorite. You were considered yourself extremely lucky in the partner that you had found.

Her name was Larissa Weems, and she was the principal at a school for outcasts called ‘Nevermore’.

She was quite tall and a titanium blonde who always wore a distinct red lip. She truly was a thing of beauty and elegance…

Coming out of your daydream, you realized that you were already halfway to the school.

Had you been driving this entire time without being consciously present…?

You shook the thought out of your mind as you pulled up to the school. You got out of your car, walked through the courtyard, and entered the maze of a school.

You walked through the many corridors, finding your way like it was the back of your hand.

You got a couple of stares, but you were used to them so you paid no mind.

For one, you were a normie in an outcast school…

But secondly, you were an irregular normie…

You practically matched Larissa in height, coming only a few inches below her. Your dress and fashion choices were not restrained in any manner, you enjoyed expressing yourself and you didn’t hold back. Many people called you masculine or a tomboy. Your make-up tended to be minimal, if you were even wearing any, and your build was more masculine with attributes like broader shoulders or sturdier, stouter hands.

And before you knew it, you were standing in front of Larissa’s office doors.

You rapped on the dark, oak door, holding the flowers in your other hand.

“Come in!” Larissa spoke, loud enough for you to hear her.

You walked into her office to find Larissa hunched over her desk, her nose in her computer screen, and her brows intensely furrowed.

You chuckled lightly to yourself, placing your things on one of the side chairs and walking up to her desk with the white roses in hand.

“You know you overwork yourself…” you teased the blonde, with a hint of serious concern.

“Hello to you as well, Darling…” Larissa chuckled, a smile finally gracing that exhausted face as she looked up to meet your gaze.

You sighed heavily at the sight of her worn-out, frenzied eyes.

“Are those for me…?” Larissa teasingly asked, having noticed the flowers and effectively pulling you out of your ponderings of Larissa.

You grinned and nodded sweetly, making Larissa blush slightly.

“Thank you, love.” She whispered.

You hummed in response, before continuing your thought, “Why don’t I put these in a vase, while you finish up, and then we can head out?”

Larissa hummed and nodded, her head swaying in exhaustion.

The poor woman…

You couldn’t stand seeing her like this…

You cupped her check and leaned across the desk to give her a quick peck on the lips. At that, Larissa let a breath out she didn’t know she’d been holding.

You then walked over to the flowers you’d brought her last week and exchanged them for the new ones.

Once you had finished, you gathered your belongings and turned to Larissa, “Ready to go, love?”

“Almost…” Larissa hummed, finishing typing something on her computer before shutting it down.

Larissa then got up and got her own belongings, giving you the opportunity to grab her coat and help her into it.

She hummed a light “thank you, dear…” in response, to which you hummed back in response.

You two interlocked hands, she locked the office door, and you were both on your way.

The car ride was past in silence. You could Larissa was exhausted and just needed a break.

And that’s exactly what you planned to give her tonight.

When you got to your house at the edge of town, you helped her out of the car, catching another deep sigh from Larissa (like the fourth or fifth one if you’d been counting correctly…)

You two entered the your house and you immediately discarded all coats and belongings.

Larissa was about to make her way to her study, as if she was going to start working again, but you quickly halted that attempt.

“No no no…” you tutted, guiding Larissa to the living room instead, “Let me take care of you, love…”

“Darling, I have work…” Larissa whined.

“Not tonight… tonight, your going to relax…” you insisted, as you had her sit down in front of the couch and you sat behind her.

You began massaging her shoulders, and you could feel all that tension which she had been amassing all week long.

You drew strings of breathy moans and groans from the blondes precious lips, as you continued to work her shoulders.

As one hand continued its administrations, you sued the other to start to remove the pins from her hair.

Larissa audibly exhaled at you loosening her uptight hair.

Pin after pin, her hair began cascading down to her shoulders.

You turned your entire attention to her hair and neck now.

Once all the pins were on the floor, you massaged from the bottom of her neck, up to her scalp, running your fingers through her titanium locks.

She was relaxing more and more…

You unzipped the top of her dress to gain a bit more access to massage down her spine.

Once you had worked out most of her knots, you began peppering her skin with kisses.

Larissa blushed deeply at this act, but said nothing against it, rather she cranes her neck to give you more access.

You made sure to touch, lick, suck, kiss every inch of available skin on that woman’s body.

And you could tell she was enjoying it from the leud sounds that were staring to flow from her lips.

You placed one final kiss on her collar bone, and then brought your lips to the shell of her ear,

“How about we order some take-out and cuddle for the night…” you husked know her ear.

Larissa happily sighed, “I’d love nothing less, my love…”

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fandomnsfw · 1 year

Text

As Long As You Love Me - Theo Raeken x Reader

Pairing: Theo x Reader

Prompt: As long as you love me by Justin Bieber (requested by Steph)

Warning: Just fluff cos I’ve gone soft

Thank you to my amazing Beta who always makes herself available to edit for me! Thanks @lets-imagine-fanfics

ENJOY!!

******

You stared from the car you were hiding behind, at Theo’s truck, with a frown. The cops were about to knock on his window once again for sleeping in his truck but this time you couldn’t stand by and watch it. You strolled over to the car raising an eyebrow at the annoyed looking cop.

“Is there a problem officer?” You asked calmly, your voice quiet as not to wake Theo up.

“He can’t sleep here.” He stated with a frown.

“He was waiting for me.” You retaliated, cheekily which seemed to have pissed him off.

“Shouldn’t you be at home? It's 1 am, kid” He huffed angrily.

“I’m 19 and FYI my parents are dead.” You snapped, crossing your arms across your chest.

The officer huffed before he walked back to his car. You quickly got into the truck with a scowl set in place. Theo shot up and stared at you with tired eyes, you rolled your eyes and started the car up before driving off.

“Y/N what are you doing here?” Theo questioned, his confused voice sounding adorable.

“I’m taking you to my house.” You muttered casually as you kept driving. He sat up straighter, his eyes widening quickly as he looked out his truck as if trying to find any way to escape this fate.

“You m-mean the house you share with your brother, Derek, and your uncle Peter who are members of Scott McCall’s pack, who hate me?” He questioned though you knew he didn’t need an answer because he knew the answer was yes.

“Uncle Peter isn’t really a part of Scott’s pack, it’s more like he helps for Malia’s sake.” You stated, trying to distract him from what he probably assumed was his impending doom.

You arrive at the house Derek and Peter had bought recently. It was a big house with about 7 rooms and a double garage but that was mainly because sometimes the pack stayed over when they weren’t away for college.

You pulled up into the garage before getting out of the car, knowing this house would soon be a war zone. You grabbed Theo and walked out of the garage into the house but as soon as you did Derek had Theo pinned to the wall.

“Derek, let him go!” You yelled as you tried to pull your older brother off of him.

“Why is this sociopath in my house!?” He growled angrily, his forearm pushing against Theo’s throat.

“Because I brought him here, now if you don’t let him go I’m going to scream so loud the neighbours will call the cops!” You demanded childishly.

“You’re not 5 anymore that won’t wo-” Before he could finish you took a deep breath and began screaming. Derek quickly let Theo go and covered your mouth. He let go when he felt you smile under his palm.

“He’s staying with us for a while. He’s been sleeping in his truck and it’s not safe. Werewolf or not.” You stated before standing in front of Theo.

“Why is that our problem!?” Derek screamed causing you to flinch.

“Because no one deserves to live like that and he’s no worse than Uncle Peter!” You yelled angrily, however that was when Peter decided to make an appearance.

“I resent that statement.” He chuckled softly as he approached Theo with a glare.

“However if the kid needs a place to stay and he’s a friend of my favourite niece, then let him stay.” He added with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Thanks, Uncle Peter, Love you!” You giggled whilst dragging Theo off before Derek could protest. Theo was quiet as you dragged him to the spare room across from your bedroom.

“Why are you doing this?” Theo asked quietly as you dropped his sports bag on the floor.

“Because I believe everyone can find redemption.” You stated softly and you spun around to face him.

“Even me? Who killed his own sister?” Theo grunted, his eyes cast down in shame.

“Yes.” You replied gently.

“Why?” He huffed anxiously, his eyes looking up to you.

“Because I’m looking at your face right now and all I see is guilt. You want to start again and try to be a better man. I’m willing to help you.” You whispered, a sad smile working its way to your face.

Theo didn’t say anything else just kept his eyes to the ground as you explained there were towels in the cupboard in his en-suite bathroom. You told him to wash up and come to the kitchen, after explaining where the kitchen was.

You walked out the room without another word, before walking downstairs to get started on food. You knew it was late but you wanted to make sure he ate properly before he slept so you heated up some homemade tomato soup you made then fried up some grilled cheese.

By the time Theo wandered it to the kitchen, food was being plated up. He was wearing a pair of dark grey skinny joggers and a black tank top. You nodded to the breakfast bar stool before cutting the two grilled cheese sandwiches in half.

You placed the bowl of soup and grilled cheese in front of him with a caring smile on your face. Stroking the back of his head before moving away to make yourself a cup of fruit tea. He stared at the food with wide eyes before he looked up at you. You nodded letting him know you’d made it for him and it was okay to eat.

He began eating, slowly at first but it seemed when he’d realised how hungry he was, his pace sped up. You stared at him with a smile whilst sipping your tea. You were a year older than Theo and for some reason, it felt like you had to look after him. He was broken and currently trying to earn trust from the pack. He’s earned, Mason's, Corey’s and Liam’s but the rest of the pack was a little more difficult, hence the reason he didn’t tell the pack he was homeless because he didn’t want sympathy. He wanted trust.

You’d learned he was asleep in his truck about a week ago when you’d followed him after he’d attended a pack meeting. You had wanted to ask him if he wanted to get coffee with you and Lydia to try and get Lydia to warm up to him but when you’d seen the sleeping bag you’d stayed there all night to see if he moved, which he didn’t. That was until the cops told him to leave. This kept happening every night for a week, but tonight you couldn’t bear to see it anymore.

Theo finished his food quickly then glanced at you with a shy smile on his face. He picked up his dishes and dragged them to the sink before turning on the tap and picking up the sponge on the side. You grabbed his hand to stop him and nodded to the dishwasher in the corner, he loaded them up with a blush evident on his face.

“Come on let's go to my room and blow dry your hair you can’t sleep like that.” You chuckled before grabbing his hand and dragging him to your room. You sit him on the floor in front of your vanity table chair, before sitting behind him.

“I can do it…” Theo muttered quietly and had you not been a werewolf you most likely wouldn’t have heard it.

“Let me.” Is all you said before you began drying his hair slowly, taking your time for reasons unknown to you but somehow doing this felt almost natural.

You finished drying his hair, brushing through it so it didn’t get knotted, then stood up making your way to stand in front of him. He looked up at you, his longish hair falling into his eyes slightly. You gave him a smile before turning around but before you could you felt Theo grab your hand slowly.

You turned to face him and as you did he rested his head on your stomach, wrapping his muscled arms around your waist. You should have found it strange that Theo Raeken was hugging you but all you could think about was how sweet and endearing it was.

You thread your fingers through his now dry hair as your other hand cupped his jaw and stroked his cheek. Suddenly you felt a wetness soaking into your shirt, shocking you to the core. Theo hugging you was one thing, but to have this poor man crying into your shirt was heartbreaking.

You took his arms off you causing him to look up with a broken frown, clearing thinking you weren’t going to comfort him but you put those thoughts to a stop when you held out your hand and pulled him up. You pulled him over to your bed and laid down motioning him to do the same.

When he laid next to you, you pulled him over and wrapped your arms around him. His head resting on your chest as he continued sniffling and crying. You ran your fingers through his hair, never speaking a word just holding him.

When he finally stopped crying and you heard his breathing even out, you figured he was sleeping so you somehow pulled the covers over you both and you fell asleep soon after with Theo Raeken wrapped tightly around your body.

When morning came Theo was somehow still laid on your chest, which caused you to chuckle silently. Someone opened your bedroom door and in walked Scott McCall whose eyes widened at the sight. You motion for him to be quiet as you detangled yourself from Theo who thankfully stayed asleep. You dragged Scott to the kitchen before he started yelling.

“ARE YOU CRAZY!? HAVING HIM STAY HERE IS ONE THING HAVING HIM SLEEP IN YOUR BED IS ANOTHER!” Thankfully you knew Derek would be out by now and Peter would be spending time with Malia since it was a Saturday.

“He was crying and I comforted him he fell asleep hugging me so I let him! Unlike you, I believe people deserve a second chance!” You yelled back causing Scott to growl.

“He could’ve hurt you.” He sighed angrily, his yelling ceasing for the time being.

“He wouldn’t hurt me.” You retaliated equally as angry.

“How would you know?” He growled moodily.

“Because I trust him.” You huffed before turning the coffee machine on.

“You trust him?” Scott asked seriously his anger fading slowly.

“Yes. I just wish you would too.” You muttered gently, as you thought back to all the time he’d proved himself recently.

“You like him.” Scott sighed like it was the worst scenario he’d even thought of.

“That’s none of your business.” You snorted as the coffee machine beeped.

“If he makes one wrong move you’d tell me?” Scott asked softly, you sent him a nod before pouring and him a cup of coffee.

You both chatted for a little longer about pack things before Theo wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and looking like a lost little puppy. He didn’t seem to notice Scott as you held out your coffee cup for him. He took it and drank the rest before pouring another one and drinking a little then passing it back to you.

“What are there no other cups in this house?” Scott snorted, startling Theo who accidentally caught his head on the corner of the cupboard he’d just opened.

“Oh my god! Honey are you okay!?” You exclaimed worriedly as you shot out your chair to check on him.

“I’m okay…” He muttered shyly as he rubbed his head and glanced at Scott.

“Good morning Scott…” He added, nodding his head at Scott in greeting.

“Good morning Theo.” Scott responded with a deadpan face. You picked up an apple and threw it at his head, totally taking him off guard and hitting him in the head.

“I’m gonna make some omelettes. What do you want in yours, Scott?” You asked cheerfully as he rubbed his head from where the apple had just hit him.

“Bacon, cheese and mushrooms.” He huffed as he put the apple back into the fruits basket. You glanced at Theo who answered quietly.

“Bacon, cheese, and onion…Please.” His manners earned his a very vibrant smile from you as you began getting ingredients from the fridge.

You were cutting up the mushrooms as Theo sat down next to Scott, not daring to look at him. You flicked glances between the two boys before letting out a wince. You accidentally sliced your finger while you hadn’t been paying attention but suddenly Theo was out his seat and cupping your cheek. You glanced down to see black veins appearing on his arm.

“Theo, you don’t need to take my pain. I’m fine. See already healed.” You chuckled softly as you showed him the healed cut. He nodded softly before going to sit back down, however, they hadn’t realised Scott was watching the little display of affection with a frown.

He now realised you might be right to a degree but what he’d also figured out, that was clear as day, Theo’s humanity laid in your hands. Scott smiled at the look Theo gave you as he watched you work on cutting the vegetables again. That was the look Scott always gave Allison if she’d ever hurt herself.

You served up the omelettes and placed sauces in front of the boys so they could choose. You dug into your breakfast barely registering that Derek or Stiles walked into the kitchen until Stiles spoke.

“Why are you having breakfast with an enemy?” Stiles whined childishly.

“Shut up Stiles before I rip your throat out…with my teeth.” You growled as you chewed on a piece of omelette.

“God, you can tell you two are siblings.” Stiles sighed dramatically. Theo looked like he was about to leave when you pulled him to sit back down. You ran your hands through his hair softly before tucking a stray piece behind his ear.

“Eat your food and ignore him.” You muttered gently, as you shot him a caring smile. He gave you a nod before he began eating his food silently.

“Did you just tuck a piece of hair behind Theo Raeken ear…and he didn’t maul your hand off?” Stiles muttered sarcastically and before anyone could blink you had Stiles pinned to the nearest wall.

“Y/N, let him go!” Derek shouted angrily as he tried to pry you off him.

“NO! I get you don’t like him! I get you don’t trust him! But right now you’re in my home and he is a guest who is doing nothing but eating his breakfast! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” You roared your eyes glowing golden.

“Scott do something!” Derek snapped as he tried to yank you off of Stiles again.

“She’s right.” Was all Scott had to say for you to let Stiles go and walk off to check on Theo.

“WHAT!?” Derek growled, confusion taking over his face.

“I think Theo has changed and I don’t trust him but I’m willing to try.” Scott stated as he passed Theo a cup of coffee earning a thank you and a head duck from the other man.

“You’re serious?” Derek’s eyebrows went from furrowed to his hairline in seconds.

“Earlier Y/N cut her finger with a knife while cutting veg up…Theo ran to her so fast to take the pain.” Scott smirked as both you and Theo blushed.

“She’s a werewolf…a born one at that?” Stiles’ eyes widened at this new information.

“Exactly.” Scott snorted as you and Theo ducked your head down awkwardly.

“Maybe he did it to impress you?” Stiles supplied like it was the only thing that made sense.

“He looked at her…Like how I looked at Allison and how you look at Lydia...” Scott muttered awkwardly as your head shot up and Theo looked like he wished the ground would swallow him…again. Stiles eyes almost bugged out his head, glancing at Derek who looked like he wanted to kill Theo.

“He’s no worse than your uncle and I forgave him. Though I tried to trust him however the Deadpool happened so now I tolerate him instead.” Scott snorted sarcastically, earning a hi-five from Stiles.

“Fine! But one wrong move and I’ll make you wish you were back in hell.” Derek growled before sipping his coffee casually.

Theo nodded and started to clean up everyone plates, scraping them and loading them in the dishwasher. Stiles’ eye was twitching like he was trying to control a sarcastic remark which made you cover your hand to hide the giggle that came out.

You grabbed Theo’s hand as Scott was leaving and waved goodbye as you walked up the stairs with Theo being tugged along. You got into your bedroom and turned to him with a smile which he returned. You grabbed a hairbrush and pulled down to your vanity table chair. You brushed through his hair before styling it quickly. He glanced at you in the mirror and began talking.

“C-Can I do your hair?” He asked softly causing your eyes to widen in shock. You gave him a nod before he stood up and placed you on the chair.

His hand played with your S/L Y/H/C hair for a while, causing you to smile before he started running the hairbrush through your hair gently. His small smile as he stared at your hair stirred butterflies in your stomach.

Once he’d brushed it, he grabbed a clip from the side and pinned up two-thirds of your hair, before grabbing your straighteners, at this point you were internally freaking out. He grinned at you through the mirror before he began straightening your hair gently.

After a few minutes, he hadn’t burnt you or your hair so you deemed it safe to relax. He continued working until he’d finished all your hair, brushing through it to make sure it wasn’t knotted. You smiled at his work before standing up and hugging him.

The last hug you had was about comfort and you’d held Theo however, this hug was purely because you wanted to and this time it was Theo’s strong arms that engulfed you. You took in his scent and the emotion radiating the room. Happiness and content covered the room from both parties.

You pulled back and stared into his eyes. But your eyes soon widened when you realised Scott was right. There stood Theo Raeken staring down at you like you were the most beautiful thing and person in the world.

One of Theo’s hands let go of your waist whilst the other hung on for dear life. His hand cupped your cheek slowly, giving you every chance to escape but all you could do was stare at him in shock and amazement.

You clutched his tank top material that covered his chest as he drew closer to you. His eyes flicking down to your lips before looking into your eyes. As he drew closer, you closed your eyes and then suddenly felt it. His warm soft lips were on yours.

It was a soft and innocent kiss which was okay with you because you needed baby steps. So you kissed back just as softly pouring all the good feeling he’s ever given you into the kiss. After a few open-mouthed kisses, he pulled back with the biggest happiest grin you’d ever seen on Theo.

“I like you.” He announced his smile still in place.

“I should hope so. You just kissed me.” You giggled, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“I like you too.” You added as you pulled away from his cheek.

“Oh well if that’s the case…We should totally go out on a date.” He exclaimed cockily causing you to burst out laughing.

“There’s my overconfident Theo. I wondered where he’d gone since you’ve been so subdued.” You laughed, patting his cheek affectionately.

“A date sounds good.” You added as you cupped his cheek.

“Perfect.” He whispered before leaning in for another kiss.

#theo raeken #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken x you #teen wolf #tw #fluff #teen wolf fluff #reader insert #reader #theo raeken fluff #theo #raeken

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yourfavouritefighter · 6 months

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OK obsessed with the swap idea

- Does Jackson still get bullied?

- How is Holt's life in the monster world?

- How does the trigger work?

- What is their personality like in this world?

- How out of touch is Holt?

- Do they know about each other?

I would love a first days fanfic?

yo glad you like the au! I don’t have all the details set in place so sorry if things are a tad bit inconsistent but here we go! (Also sorry for the late reply I didn’t see the ask rip)

Bullying

-I feel that both of the boys would get bullied but in different ways and for different reasons, Jackson would be pushed around since he’s quite nerdy, so I feel manny still wouldn’t like him. However holt would probably just be excluded from things, or have rumours spread about him, but due to him being prone to fighting back it wouldn’t be direct bullying like it is for Jackson.

Holts life in the monster world

-Holt would still Dj however he’d most likely do it whilst in a disguise of some form, (even if it’s just a mask or some make up) as many monsters don’t trust him. He doesn’t like the fact he has to Hyde his identity but the extra money comes in handy.

Triggers

-This may change in the future but my current plan is to have Jackson be triggered by extreme silence. So there has to be near to no sounds for him to appear. As such the headphones double as extra noise if necessary or as music. I also thought about him being triggered by piano specifically alongside the silence trigger.

Personalities

-Holt: He’s a bit of a joker and pretty immature, he likes to just chill and have fun in life. However he is quite hot headed and can have a short temper. This pairs to mean people don’t trust him too well and don’t want to mess with him (well not directly at least, no one minds the anonymous pranks or rumours just as long as it doesn’t tie back to them).

-Jackson: He’s more reserved than his counterpart, preferring to follow rules and structure, unlike holt’s ‘rules were made to be broken’ mentality, he prefers to stay out of the public eye, whether it be due to not wanting people to find out his identity or avoiding the bullying (since I haven’t decided if people know about him and holt yet). His quiet nature means he can be quite the push over at times making him prime for taunts and attacks from his peers.

(Man I really gotta draw some art of Jackson interacting with people)

Out of touch?

-I’m not too sure what you mean by this, whether it be out of touch with monster culture, or out of touch in the sense of being isolated from his classmates. Either way due to his DJ-ing and being a student at MH he’s picked up a lot of monster slang and culture. And as for friends, he’s known Draculaura since before MH and managed to meet Frankie on his first day, so he isn’t alone there. In the au I’ll still have him be friends with a lot of the usual characters (e.g deuce heath frankie etc with some exceptions)

Do they know?

-As of joining MH definitely yes, but as kids their mother tired to keep it secret, as she doesn’t get along with her Hyde, as such it was a shock when during quiet time at school he burst into flames. Holt was quickly pulled from the school, switching between a mix of homeschooling, monster schools and normie schools. Usually not lasting long at any of them, due to his temper and monster side.

A fic?

-Maybe??????? I’m not too great of a writer, but I might work on a one shot or really short fic about it….someday? If I have the chance and people are interested in it I might take a crack at writing lmao

I hope that covers everything! I’m happy to answer any more questions people have on the au and I really appreciate all the support it’s got! (I really wasn’t expecting it lmao)

#normie au #holt monster high #normie holt #holt hyde #jackson jekyll monster high #monster jackson #jackson jekyll #lore #au lore #long post #monster high #monster high au

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musiciansmaid · 2 months

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Some middle of the night thoughts about the enrollment process at Night Raven College as I desperately try to draft up a story but there’s so much about this school that I just don’t understand!

(slight spoilers for Book 7):

In the beginning of the game, it’s heavily stated that not just anyone can get into NRC, the Black Carriage has to arrive for you, something Grim had been waiting for for a while

I had always assumed there would be some kind of application process and basically you don’t know that you’ve made it until it shows up, right?

we find out from Lilia that he had received his acceptance letter like 500 years ago out of the blue, no application needed. Thus debunking my previous theories

But that was 500 years ago, surely the process must have changed?

It could have, but it’s implied that Lilia only changed his mind once Malleus was accepted. He fished out his old letter from the archives and was able to enroll simply because he had it

Even Crowley said he’d never imagine someone would show up with a 500 year old acceptance letter

SO, based on purely the way Crowley is when it comes to school traditions, I don’t think much - if anything - has changed

So to sum up what we know (or what makes sense to me so far): Teenagers across Twisted Wonderland’s only hope of going to NRC isn’t some mysterious Black Carriage randomly appearing at your house to whisk you away like I dreaded- it’s a mysterious Black Envelope arriving at your house to congratulate you on getting in!

At least you get some kind of heads up which is nice, right? There must be some way of accepting your enrollment via the letter, then the Carriage loads you up in your coffin come the start of the school year to bring you to orientation

(Don’t even get me started on orientation, I’ve been trying to crack this code between the game and the manga and I just can’t make heads or tails out of how that process is so if anyone has any ideas I’d love to hear them, otherwise I’m just gonna make up my own thing for my fanfic)

Anyway, I know it’s a long shot but I hope we get more school lore in future chapters/books. Like how come Ramshackle is abandoned if it used to be a dormitory and why is it the only one not connected to the hall of mirrors? What was the associated color for the dorm? The characteristics of the students that were sorted there? Disney I beg of you, as someone who adores the Haunted Mansion- I need the lore!

Okay, end of my rant. If anyone had anything else to add, I’d greatly appreciate it!

#twisted wonderland #night raven college #mini rant #twst chapter 7 spoilers #twst book 7 spoilers #twst crowley #twst lilia #twst malleus #twst wonderland #seriously how is orientation supposed to go?#lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #ramshackle dorm #haunted mansion

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theotherbuckley · 4 months

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Hiii purple 💕💕💕

🍉🤍💝💌

Hey Saturn 💜

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

I write a lot of emotionally heavy stuff so I mean for me I guess it’s a great way to feel I sad and all that in a way that isn’t idk harmful. Like I can write about depressing topics which allows me to let out all those feelings idk this doesn’t even make sense but it’s nice to feel sad sometimes and I can do that with writing in a non-harmful manner. Yk that probably sounds super psychotic.

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

Uh I don’t think any of my fics people didn’t get. I think people may not like certain things but they still “got” it.

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

Uhhh I think the first fic I wrote for this fandom Because You’re Exhausting purely because I haven’t been a part of a fandom this massive or at least not one that reads as much fanfic is we do lol so it got way bigger response than I anticipated. (Which has unfortunately cursed me to feel like I’ve done a bad job if it doesn’t reach that level of response cough running from myself cough)

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

I’m going to use this as my Seven Sentence Sunday too - this is from the healing fic again… once again there is not a lot of healing going on.. I swear there will be.. eventually

Eventually he picks himself off the floor and tells himself he’ll clean the glass up later. Really, he knows, he’ll never get around to it.

His whole body is shaking and he’s not sure when that started but he just won’t stop shaking. He turns to the sink and splashes his face with cold water and holds his shaking hands under the water, washing away the blood that wasn’t ever there.

He leans against the counter, head in his hands, and he wonders how he managed to let it get this bad.

Or maybe he knows how, he just didn’t think it would hit so suddenly. Like it’s been gradually building for a long time but now he actually stops for a moment and it feels like he’s being shot, the force of how bad things have got hitting him square in the chest.

He just wishes it was a real bullet.

Tags for Seven Sentence Sunday under the cut <3

@disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @jeeyuns @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @crowleywasagryffindor @malewifediaz @evanbegins @jamespearce9-1-1 @wikiangela @bucksbirthmark @callmenewbie @underwater-ninja-13 @daffi-990 @fionaswhvre @aspecbuddie

#purple asks #911 abc #seven sentence sunday #911 fandom #evan buck buckley #911 fanfic #911 wip

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

Note

I love how you write, it's so detailed and scrumptious lol! Can I request a Alejandro Vargas oneshot where he's the submissive one and his S/O (preferably female but you decide) is the dominant one?

I cannot for the life of me find Alejandro fanfics that he's the one submissive lolol.

I have cheated and reworked some of an old fic as my brain isn’t working lmaooo. I hope I did your idea justice ❤️

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, p in v, f masturbation, submissive themes

‘What the fuck was that Alejandro?!’ You screamed as you slammed the door to your office. ‘He was gonna take the shot! He was gonna kill you!’ He retorted. You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh.

‘He wasn’t gonna do shit. Martinez is all mouth. I was IN! I was fucking in with the cartel, everything we’ve been working towards gone.’ You threw your arms in the air through sheer frustration.

He approached your desk, his combat boots echoed on the cracked and unkempt wooden floor. ‘What you want me to say? I’m not going apologise for what I did cariña.’ You glared at him from behind your desk. ‘I’m not asking you to apologise Alejandro. I’m fucking furious with you. Do you even realise what this means? Months of work down the fucking drain.’ You were physically shaking, inside and out.

You didn’t want to be mad at him, in the long run he probably did you a favour by killing him. Taking out the second in command for the cartel, means you’d move up in his place. But you need to watch your back more than ever now. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, or if there was anything Alejandro could do right now to make it up to you.

You stood up from your chair and trudged to the window of the safe house. ‘Want one?’ You said bluntly to him, offering him a bottled water. He chewed his cheek, jaw tense, he was holding back. ‘Yeah.’ His gravelly voice cut through the tense atmosphere. You took two bottles of water and sipped yours before handing Alejandro his. He swirled the tepid water around before taking swig, his eyes locked with yours.

He’s a prick, but he’s gorgeous. And he was yours. Fuck.

’That wasn’t my first time having a gun to my head mi vida.’ you said calmly. You eyed your drink watching as the dim light bounced off the plastic bottle. ‘You kinda get used to it being in this line of work. You of all people should know that.’ you said bluntly. He grunted nodding his head. ‘What is it?’ You asked, perching yourself on the edge of your desk.

Alejandro thumbed the rim on his bottle, his jaw working overtime. He didn’t like how well you could read him. You were a calm to his chaos, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he felt safe with you. His deep brown eyes flitted around the room before resting on your face. He licked his bottom lip and shook his head to side, a small grin swept across his lips. ‘Seeing you like that? Gun to your head? I thought I was going to lose you. And I can’t. I cannot lose you.’

You were stunned. You’d never seen your husband so vulnerable. His face appeared genuine, genuine concern for you and your life.

You sighed, ‘As … sweet as that is you had no right. Im apart of Los vaqueros just like you. I earnt my place here.’ He hung his head still playing with the plastic bottle in his hands. ‘I know.’ he said softly. It had been a few months since you two had spent any time together, you thought about him everyday. Seeing him like this shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did.

But seeing the way he berated himself for letting himself care about you, seeing him become so vulnerable, it gave you an idea.

‘Mi Vida?’ You whispered as you placed your bottle down, your eyes lingered on the it. His brown eyes looked up at you, waiting for you to scold him again. ‘Do you trust me?’

He re-adjusted himself in the worn wooden chair, his hips bucked slightly, as he brought him thumb to his mouth and nipped it gently. ‘Yeah?’

‘Beg.’

Alejandro’s eyes widened, looking at your confused. You stood up, and adjusted your trousers. ‘I want you to kneel and I want you to beg for my forgiveness.’ He twitched in the chair, you’d never been dominant in this way with him before. His eyes darted to the floor and back to yours as he swallowed, hard.

He slowly slid to the front of the chair and sunk to his knees, never breaking eye contact with you. His combat boots creaked as they settled into their new position. He looked up at you with doe like eyes, a small smirk brushed across his lips. ‘Cariña’ he whispered. Your heart was racing.

You sat on the edge of the window and placed your boot on his collar bone, elongating your leg. His jaw clenched and rippled, not once breaking eye contact. ‘What to do with you mi Vida? What. To. Do.’ You pushed your foot into his firm chest, pushing him off balance.

‘You disappointed me today. That will not do’ you cooed as you tapped your fingers on the plastic window ledge. ‘You can’t take away my disappointment, but I can take away your pleasure.’ Alejandro was knelt upright, attentive, taking in every word that slipped past your lips. You knew he liked to touch you, feel your skin on his, he loved the way you tasted on his lips. He loved being in control.

So, naturally you were going to deny him this. ‘You don’t touch me and you don’t close your eyes. Otherwise I’ll stop. Do you understand?’

‘Si’ he grunted, fuck you loved it when he spoke his native tongue. His voice was thick like tar, as smooth as the finest chocolate and as deep as the Mariana Trench.

‘Good.’

You stood up and placed two fingers under his chin directing him to stand. Alejandro slowly stood, his eyes took in every detail of you as he rose. Once stood above you, you stood inches away from him, you could see his forearms twitching with frustration at your rules. He was desperate to touch you, to feel you beneath him. Desperate to break you.

Pushing him backwards he resumed his position sat in the chair, hips splayed, legs apart. You climbed on top, straddling him. You leant into his neck and nipped it slightly before nipping at his ear, letting out a small faint moan. He was tense. You pulled off your t-shirt revealing your cleavage. He watched your every move, drinking you in.

You bit down on his collar bone intending to make your mark on him. He gritted his teeth trying to hold in a moan. You lifted your head and lent into his face just shy of his lips. His thick, soft lips. ‘Mmm, good boy. You’re doing so well.’ You bit his bottom lip while your raked your nails through his hair and scalp. You gripped his hair and pulled back exposing his strong neck, pulse visible just beneath the surface.

You ran your tongue along his pulsating artery and bit down again, harder. He bucked his hips against you, so you snaked your hand down to his hard cock. ‘Shhh all in good time’ you whispered into the nape of his neck.

You were impressed at his restraint, he hadn’t moved once. His hands firmly by his side. Time to up the anti.

You raise your body and slowly brought your middle and ring finger to his mouth. ‘Open.’ As he opened his mouth you inserted your fingers for him to suck. He complied. He watched as you inserted them into your wet pussy. Grinding your fingers against your spot, your other hand wrapped around his throat. You pressed your forehead against his, breathing heavily against lips. Lazily slurring his name in between breathless moans. His breathing quickened, his legs twitched beneath you. You quickened your pace, chasing your high, hips swaying back and forth over him. He watched you wide eyed, seemingly unable to process the scene in-front of him.

He was right where you wanted him.

He was breaking.

You brought yourself close to the brink of orgasm but stopped. Slowly you brought your fingers to his mouth to taste you. He slowly sucked off the juices from your fingers and grazed them with his teeth. A small whimper broke deep within him. Holding his gaze you undid his belt and trousers, the touch of your hand on his cock was enough.

He released the breath he didn’t know he was holding, a smile broke out across his lips as he threw his head back. A guttural moan came from his throat as you worked his cock with your hand, smirking as you did so. He moved his hips in an attempt to feel more of you stroke him. You snatched his head back up to look at you, your eyes dark with desire. ‘What do you want baby?’ He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. ‘You’ he whimpered, his voice cracking with pure need.

You straddled him again before placing a deep needy kiss on his lips. ‘I don’t know if you deserve me. You’ve been such a bad boy’ you pouted, digging your nails into his neck. A string of Spanish pleas, apologies and whimpers dripped from his swollen lips. Voice strained and hoarse, oh how he wanted to taste you, to fuck you.

Pulling your trousers down you sank down onto your husbands throbbing cock. He threw his head back as your cunt inhaled his girth. Biting your lip you whined at the feel of the stretch, it had been months since you got to feel him. You bounced on his lap, feeling his cock slide in and out of you, making you feel every ounce of pleasure. His forearms were shaking from not touching you, veins decorated his olive skin.

‘Fuck I missed you baby’ you groaned, your chest tight, heart thundering within your chest. He watched as your hips rolled and jerked, how your thighs moved and jiggled with every ministration. He peppered your neck with kisses, biting your flesh, marking you.

‘You gonna come for me baby?’ You panted, weaving your hands into his hair. ‘Fuck, yes yes yes’ he moaned, his breath tickling your neck and collar bone. ‘You gonna come in this pussy?’ He bit his lip, drawing blood. You licked his lip, ‘who does this cock belong to?’

‘You, fuck … you’ he said, over and over again. You gripped his face forcing him to look at you directly, ‘good boy, now fuck me.’

Needing no more instruction he wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you, pushing you back into the wall. He began thrusting, growling into your neck, you felt yourself tighten, nearing your high. Alejandro buried his face into the crux of your neck, his breath hot and flustered.

Digging your nails into his shoulders he hissed, your cunt finally relenting, pleasure burst through your core. You fluttered around his cock, pulsating, squeezing him. He came soon after, his thrusts sloppy and slow. Methodical and wanting. You nipped his ear, that was enough to push him over the edge. Short sharp moans burst from his chest as he came in your pussy.

You both caught your breath before he let you drop gently to the floor. Looking up at him, completely blissed out, pupils blown wide. Smiling you biting your head on his chest ‘mmmm you’re forgiven.’

#call of duty #alejandro mw2 #alejandro x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro Vargas x you #alejandro x you #alejandro smut #mw2 fanfic #mw2 #cod mwii

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 11 months

Text

listen, I'm not being dramatic at all when I say most people don’t know how exhausting being a fanfic writer can be. I mean I understand why they tend to think it’s an ‘activity we do in our free time’ where we just sit in our beds in front of our laptops and type something away when we’re bored. thing is, I wish it were that easy. but it’s not. sometimes we spend hours doing research, sometimes — most of the times — it takes us so long to think of words to form a sentence, because the sentences/dialogues you see in a fanfic aren’t the same as a conversation we have with people irl in our daily lives where we don’t have to worry about whether or not it’s ‘smooth’ or ‘in-character’ or ‘aesthetically satisfying’ enough. that one sentence you read in a fic could take the author so long to come up with, to craft the words and put them together, and as someone who also writes, this isn’t an exaggeration at all. I could say “he saw a girl with her mom today, and thought of his own mom because he missed her” to you as a normal irl conversation, but once I put that in my fic, it turns into “His eyes landed on a little girl, she couldn't have been older than six. She was with her mother, and they were both smiling. A soft smile tucked at the corner of his lips then, a wave of nostalgia washed over his heart as his memories led him back to his mother’s home, when he was little. He hadn’t seen her in so long, but he remembered the scent of her morning coffee; warm and cozy, just like her hugs.” and I'm not talking about the constant feelings that your works are never over. because once you finished a chapter or a one-shot, that you worked on for so long, and posted it, you’re almost immediately hit with the feelings that you have to start working on your next fic right now, otherwise you’re not being productive enough, and all your self-worth comes from how much/how fast/how well/how often you write. so instead of rewarding yourself with a night without any writing where you can give yourself a nice relaxing bath or binge watch a show or any other thing you enjoy doing, you start writing something new. and it’s just so exhausting, but we do it anyway.

now imagine you doing all of this. so other people can read your works. for free. while you’re also busy with work/life/your actual job. you get nothing in return — from pulling an all-nighter for 3 nights in a row, just to finish a chapter of your fic — except kudos and comments.

being a writer who published original works as their main source of income is super cool, of course, but it’s sad how fanfic writers are often seen as less than ‘actual’ writers when I've read a lot of fanfictions that were better written than an actual published novel. a fanfic writer is as much of a writer as any other writer who writes and publishes their original works as their main source of income.

anyway, my point is, we as fanfic writers don’t make any money from our works. we do it simply because of our love for the characters in the fandoms we’re in. please please please please always show your appreciation to your favorite authors by giving them kudos and commenting on their works. if you’re shy or if you don’t know what to comment, just say ‘I enjoyed reading this so much’ or ‘I liked this chapter so much’ or how reading it made you feel; it can be ‘this made me cry. thank you’ or ‘I smiled to myself while reading this *inserts a part or a dialogue from the fic* thank you for writing this’. literally anything. even if the authors don’t respond to you, I can guarantee you that they read your comments and it made them smile and they appreciate your support more than you know. literally comments are also what motivate them to write more fics for you to read.

that being said, if you’re a fanfic writer and you’d love to promote your works under this post. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO DO SO.

PLEASE PROMOTE YOUR FICS. THIS IS A PLACE FOR YOU TO SHAMELESSLY PROMOTE THE BEAUTIFUL MASTERPIECES YOU WROTE ABOUT YOUR BLORBOS. ANY SHIP. ANY FANDOM. YOU CAN PROMOTE THEM IN REBLOGS OR TAGS. YOUR WORKS DESERVE MORE LOVE!

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multiwreckedmess · 1 year

Text

February Filth Fest - Day 16

Pairing: Jongho x fem!Reader Prompt: Sadism WC: 2.1k Summary: TW/CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT READ FFS aged up, mafia/gang, gunplay, knifeplay, slapping, spanking, object penetration, aftercare. this one is going to be rough and for sure i’m not going to be able to tw/cw it all. It’s DARK. it’s sadism. I have additional notes/spoil it at the beginning under the cut for those interested.

SPOILER: At the end this is revealed to be a scene between two consenting adults making it more cnc than straight up nc. that said the set up for this is not shown, only the aftercare. scenes like this require setup and trust between the parties that isn’t fun or sexy to write out as a one-shot fanfic.

“Are you afraid?” Jongho leans back in his chair, legs up on his desk casually. You sit opposite him, hands and feet tied to a metal folding chair, jaw set and staring defiantly at him. Your eye twitches. “I’d understand if you were scared. You’ve certainly gotten yourself into a predicament.”

He’d been meticulously cleaning his revolver for the past hour, stripping down almost to nuts and bolts to delicately scrub each nook and cranny with a tiny hard bristle brush. Glasses perched on the end of his nose, occasionally glancing your way. Neither of you speaking, locked into a cold war.

“I assume you know why I had my men so rudely pulled you from your sheets at this hour?” He spins the unloaded barrel, flicking his wrist casually to lock it in place. Aiming at you from between his spit-shined Chelsea boots he mock fires the gun, recoiling with a smirk. You suck your cheeks in, unflinching. It’s not that you’re unaware of your extremely precarious position, dragged to the boss’s office at an ungodly hour wearing only your silk slip, slippers having been promptly removed by force at the door. You are acutely aware of the ledge at which you are perched. It’s that you can’t do anything about it. Your eyes hollowed from interrupted sleep you’ve totally dissociated.

You’ve totally dissociated and Jongho is not happy about it. His smirk fades to a sneer. “Certainly you didn’t think you’d get anywhere in the organization sleeping around my circle of underlings? Loose lips for a loose woman?” His cackle cracks like a whip through the cold atmosphere. “Dollface, don’t you think I’ve got surveillance on all my men? From my personal guards to the lowliest dishwasher. I knew about you the second you got your assignment.”

You’d agreed to be a test case in a new tactic for your department. The thought was frequently the lowest rung of the organization knew more about the true goings-on than the top brass. Janitors, servers, housekeepers, etc. anyone who might not directly deal with the dirty side of the business but certainly would be taking care of the people who did. The underpaid, overworked class of workers. By collecting your intel via friendships and relationships and tangential associations to these people you could stay under the radar longer than climbing the ladder, at least was the theory.

Stalking your chair like a predator you can feel the heat of his gaze scanning you from bedhead to pedicured toe. Resting his revolver on your shoulder he casually leans down, aiming down the barrel at his chair. The sharp click of the hammer in your ear makes you flinch nearly microscopically. His breath on the back of your neck you can sense his silent laughter. “Very cute.”

“You’re not going to kill me.” You stare straight forward, dispassionate, direct. “So cut the dumb shit mind games.”

He steps back from you, almost offended. “You think the games are for you? Don’t you know some bears like to play with their food?”

“You’re not going to kill me,” you reiterate. Jongho sighs, running the barrel of his gun over your smooth skin, flicking the strap of your slip off your shoulder. “You’re right. I’m not. You got me there. I’m going to see how long it takes you to beg me to kill you.” Slowly he lowers his lips, kissing where your strap once lay with a sweet softness. “Alright doll?” You try to keep your heart rate steady, muscles relaxed. Keep your air of indifference as he completes his circle around you to sit on the edge of his desk. Pointed toe of his Chelsea boot secure under your chair he jerks the chair backwards, your head snapping forward bracing for an impact that never comes. A tiny yelp escapes your tensed lips, fingers wrapping around the poles supporting the backrest. as the front two legs of your chair hover in the air. Face burning with shame you can’t look up at him. You broke. You fucking broke and now he knew he could get at you. “I’m going to really enjoy our time together.” He slams the front legs back down harshly.

Casually Jongho reaches behind him, opening a top drawer and unrolling a soft leather wrap case. Unfurling it nearly covers his desk, small glittering silver tools catch what little light there is in the room. It’s clear he takes care of his things. It’s just there to scare you, you silently reassure yourself. “Aren’t you going to ask what I plan on doing to you?” He smirks, leaning over to the side to catch your eyes. “What’s the point, you’ll do it to me anyway.” He chuckles, “you’re smarter than you let on.” Placing the gun on the mat he pulls a small packet from a pouch and rips it open. An alcohol pad. Your eyes flick from the pad to the man as he approaches you, warm palms sliding the hem of your slip up your thighs. Methodically he swipes up and down your inner thighs all the way up to your exposed slit. “W-what are you doing?” “Ah so you ask now,” he tosses the spent sheet away. “Can’t have my playthings getting too dirty you know.”

The glint of a blade catches your eye. A 1950s replica stiletto switchblade. Silver and black and sleek. Jongho drags the point slowly over the freshly cleansed areas of your thighs. “What was your evaluation of me.” Tongue tied, focused on stilling your shaking legs you sit silently, breath caught in your throat. You’re ready to catch the yelp you think is sure to come, the anticipation of the sting almost worse than the actual act. It never happens. Jongho bites at your throat. The action catches you off guard and you moan, leaning into him. “Hm, interesting,” he mutters. “Trust that I already know everything you told your little piggies back at home-base. I mean, what is your evaluation of me?” Keeping the blade flat against your thigh, tip just barely pressed to the crease of your thigh and pelvis, his face is inches from yours. Your cunt leaks embarrassingly, betraying the beating in your chest. “You’re young. And fucking insane.” You nearly spit at him, teeth gnashing. Hand pinching your teeth the tip of the knife digs further into you. You hiss, chest rising and falling with each quickening breath, unable to hold it back any longer. “Is that really all?” He purrs. Challenging his gaze as best you can you don’t make any more to speak. Locked in a battle neither one of you wants to lose. The knife retracts suddenly, moaning as the blade glances your thigh. “I guess we’ll need to warm up those cute little lips of yours.” Jongho tosses the knife to the side, listening to it clatter and skitter away from you. Reaching behind he grabs the shiny revolver, placing the tip of the barrel between your pouted lips. “Suck it. Suck it or I break your teeth trying.” With a sneer you accept it into your mouth, the cool metal tangy on your tongue. Dropping his pinch at your cheeks he palms himself, working the barrel between your lips. Despite the cleaning it still smells like gunpowder and hot steel. Rolling your tongue around the barrel you treat it like a cock, letting him direct the strokes. “Just like that,” he presses the tip of the barrel to the inside of your cheek, pulling it taut, stretching your lips to the side. “See your mouth is useful for something.” He taps the bulge, leaving your cheek hot.

Unzipping his pants he strokes the outline of his shaft, pressed snugly to his hip. “Now where were we?” He pulls the gun from your lips, trail of spit connecting your lips and the barrel. “Warmup. That’s right.” Pulling your ass to the edge of the chair you can feel the trail of wetness sticky on your ass. Jongho slaps your swollen mound, thrilled to see your legs fight to close, blocked by the chair. Your eyes roll as you fight down any noise, determined to remain silent. Jongho nudges the barrel against your clit, the metal having cooled already from the heat of your mouth you shiver. “Just think, all those times you were fucking some underling for an unsatisfactory five minutes you could’ve just had me.” He pushes the barrel into your entrance. It’s unyielding and cold, your muscles clench down fighting the intrusion. “Ride it. Ride it or I fire it.” “You wouldn’t,” your eyes wide you stare at him. Slowly he drags the smooth barrel in your cunt. “From what you know of me, do you really think I wouldn’t? Who are you to me?” Chest heaving you do your best to roll your hips with his thrusts. Confusing arousal and fear tear at your insides, tears welling and spilling over. The ropes at your wrists and ankles rub uncomfortably against your skin, tugging and tense. Burning with shame you sob and cum all over his freshly cleaned magnum revolver. His open palm strikes your cheek with a hefty smack. “Did I say you could cum?” “N-no,” you hiccup through tears. “Hold it.” He props the gun inside you, finally leaving your side. Clenching down you try to fight the slick surface slipping from your walls. Your stomach flexing, brows furrowed, it slowly creeps from you. Legs desperately trying to push together to catch it you squirm and pull. The flat side of a blade slides between your ankle and the metal leg, easily slicing through the taut rope, letting your thighs slap together just in time.

You thought once you were freed of your ropes you’d fight more but your body sits lax in its spot, trembling and pliant. Too mentally exhausted to run you let Jongho move you into position over his desk, variety of implements shoved to one half to make room for you. “Tell me, my first question, what your evaluation of me was. Truthfully. The full thing.” The last defiant bone in your body shakes your head by force of will. “Fuck you.” Jongho sighs, hand wrapping around the hilt of the largest implement in his kit, a cleaver, perfectly polished.

The first smack of the flat of the blade to your ass you’re unprepared for. Squealing your thighs smash into the edge of the desk with a jump. He quickly follows with a volley of four more, counting out loud for you to hear. Biting your lip you fight moans, the sting of each hit setting every nerve alight. “I see why they sent you, fucking painslut.” Nose running, your knuckles go white gripping the wood. “Fine! Fucking kill me! Fuck you!” The flat of the blade comes down again with a hefty swack, forcing a racked sob from your chest. “Gonna cum from that?” Jongho taunts you, slapping your wet slit lightly. “Yes!” The admission has you shaking beneath him, humiliated. “Good. I’m going to count to 5. Then you can cum.” You gulp and brace. Slowly he counts each hit, your legs wobbling, the last sending you limp on the desk cumming around nothing, juices running down your thighs. Grunting Jongho pulls his cock from his boxers, pumping himself quickly as he shoots all over your collapsed body. “Fucking bitch, got my desk all dirty.” He pushes the side of your head to the desk. “Clean it up and we’ll try that question again in an hour.”

The door slams shut heavily and you close your eyes, curling into yourself on the desk. Listening to your own breathing you count down from ten slowly as you exhale. It’s your house. It’s your basement. It’s an antique desk you’d found only months before. The gun is a non-firing replica. The implements are dentists tools you’d bought from amazon. The knife had been ground down dull.

Cautiously the door swings back open. Soft footsteps. A bottle of blue Gatorade with a straw is placed quietly in front of you. Gentle swipes of a warm washcloth clean your raw ass followed by soothing cream. You adjust to the new quiet breathing in the room. Straining to hold yourself up and drink you feel Jongho slide behind you, arm providing support to your ribcage. “Was that okay?” Jongho helps the straw between your lips. “I didn’t- you weren’t really scared, right?” Your face and hair are a total mess as you intertwine your lean more heavily into him. “Can I put your robe on you?” Jongho offers, rubbing the fluffy fabric against your calf. You nod, warm thick fabric weighing you down cozily. “I love you.”

I almost skipped this one full on. I’ve been writing a lot of dom!idol and just felt like i couldn’t innovate on it and didn’t know what to do for Jongho. But that said i think it turned out okay?

Honestly i felt like i needed to write the aftercare for me just as much as the characters.

#jongho smut #ateez smut #jongho x fem!reader #ateez x fem!reader #february filth fest

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