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thefrogdalorian · 13 days

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My Pain Fits In The Palm Of Your Freezing Hand

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: When you and your Mandalorian companion are ambushed by a group of bandits, you hope that his stubborn nature will not make the task of treating his wounds any more difficult than it needs to be. But that is not the only obstacle. You also hope that the depth of your unrequited feelings for Din will not impact on your ability to care for him...

Word Count: 2.2k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: Canon typical violence briefly described, reader provides first-aid to minor, bloody injuries. ✯ Author's Note: A daydream about holding the stubborn tin can man's hand turned into whatever this is!! I've never written unrequited feelings for Din before but it made my heart ache in the best possible way. Hope you enjoyed!

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

Once the adrenaline of your latest brush with death subsides, your focus immediately pivots to caring for your Mandalorian companion. Although the heightened emotions leaving your body render you a trembling, shaky mess, your priority is to ensure his well-being. Maker knows he will never take care of himself.

As you approach the Razor Crest, you mentally scan yourself for painful areas. Casting your mind back towards the encounter as you try to recall anywhere you could have been hurt. After all, you will struggle to assist him if you are not healthy.

You recall that you had taken a couple of painful blows to the side during the skirmish, but your clumsy assailants had fortunately missed all of your vital organs. Aside from a pounding heart and dry mouth, you have mercifully made it through the ambush unscathed.

Satisfied that there are no immediate areas of concern to treat, you turn your attention towards Din. You cast your mind back over the altercation, towards any wounds he may have sustained. It is easier said than done, considering how many of them leapt out of nowhere and caught the two of you off-guard as you walked through the thick forest towards the ship.

You remember how many of them Din fought off with his bare hands. Well, through his gloves. Still, you know they will have provided scant protection, so you are keen to check them for injuries.

You momentarily struggle to remember what happened after Din had seen most of them off as you crouched behind a bush, hiding.

Then, you recall how one of your assailants had slashed at Din’s hands when he grabbed the remaining pair of them around the throat. It had been a frenzied attack, which momentarily worked as his grip loosened. Just when you had feared that all hope was lost and they were going to escape, Din brought his boot up to deliver a swift kick in the stomach to the slower of the duo, which sent them careening into each other.

Din had used many parts of his body, as well as all of his wits and expertise as a warrior to see your attackers off. He had done a formidable job, considering how much they had taken you by surprise.

Still, the state of his hands concern you.

You are pretty sure they sustained the most severe damage. Plus, as they are vitally important for everyday function, treating them takes priority.

It is settled... Din’s hands are the first area you will treat.

If he will let you, that is.

Your Mandalorian companion does not possess a reputation for being the easiest man in the galaxy to take care of... a willing patient, Din Djarin is not.

As the two of you ascend the ramp up to his beloved ship, you hope for both of your sakes that he makes this process as painless as possible.

“Din, sit down and let me get the medkit,” you order when you finally enter the familiar old ship's hull.

“Let me initiate the launch sequence first,” Din stubbornly responds.

“No,” you reply, shaking your head as you fold your arms, glaring at him.

“Fine,” Din mutters in annoyance.

It seems your sternness has done the trick.

Din perches atop a crate as you grab the medkit in preparation to treat his wounds. You hope he does not make it harder for you than necessary. Din has never made any secret that he is comfortable being fussed over. You are no stranger to the fact that he hates being taken care of like this, but if you do not tend to his wounds, you know he will never do so himself.

“Your gloves,” you nod towards the two-toned leather which covers his hands, “Take them off, Din.”

Din sighs and lifts his gloves beneath his helmet, seemingly biting at each finger to loosen them before repeating the process with his other hand. You feel like a voyeur and wonder whether you should turn your head and look away, as though his gloved hand disappearing beneath his helmet is somehow sacrilegious. Despite your inner turmoil, you cannot help but watch, unable to tear your gaze away until finally, he slides the gloves off and bares his flesh to you.

It is not the first time Din has removed his gloves in your presence, yet you still feel a thrill travelling across your body at the faintest sight of his skin.

For Din Djarin’s bare hands provide you with the tiniest peek at the man that lies beneath the cold, hard beskar. To catch a glimpse of the human side of the formidable warrior, the side of him you yearn to know entirely.

You remember how stunned you had been the first time he had removed his gloves in your presence while he was repairing a blaster several months ago.

You had been sitting elsewhere in the hull as he worked at the bench, tools spread out as he dutifully performed much-needed maintenance on one of his many beloved weapons.

A grunt of frustration indicated that the parts had been far too intricate to repair with his cumbersome gloves. So, he had pulled on each finger one by one, tugging them off. Seemingly uncaring about baring himself, even ever so slightly, in your presence.

You had tried your best not to look, but you had been unable to resist sneaking a glance at who he was underneath his armour. Although for the most part, you kept to yourselves, there was no lingering frostiness in your dynamic. You and Din were amicable, possibly even friends... if he could even have such a thing.

That day, you watched as his hands meticulously repaired his blaster. You noticed the smattering of dark hairs across the back of his hand, the surprisingly tanned skin and the calluses and scars which littered the back of his hand. It was a fascinating glimpse into the man who hid so much of himself from you, yet you still felt you knew enough about him to believe he was, deep down, a good man.

Your mind ran wild with so many questions. Was his skin a similar colour elsewhere on his body, or was it tanned because his hands were the only parts of him that saw the sun? Did the dark hairs on the back of his hand mean that the hair on his head–if he had any–was a similar colour?

They were questions you knew you would likely never get answers to. Nor did you expect to.

When Din had hired you to care for The Child and attend to maintenance on his ship, he had informed you of the rules regarding his armour and helmet. He would remove neither his helmet nor armour in your presence. You were never to question the reasons why or attempt to subvert this stipulation in any way.

That was why glimpsing a sliver of his skin had thrilled you. It had exposed the man you had been yearning to see in a way that was not a violation of his Creed.

Yet, when you see his hands this time the circumstances could not be more different. Neither could the emotions Din’s bare hands provoke in you.

Rather than feeling a thrill at the sight of his skin, now you cringe when you see the wounds that litter his flesh. His knuckles are split and bloodied, contusions that will surely colour shades of blue and black before eventually healing. There are also angry red gashes in all directions, a result of the bandit’s vibroblade making contact with his hands.

You steady yourself, mentally preparing for the gargantuan task of providing first aid to a stubborn Mandalorian. Din values all you do for him. You are certain of that fact, even if he does not often vocalise it. Still, having someone take care of him is an uncomfortable prospect for a man who has spent so long leading a solitary, nomadic existence.

When you finally take his calloused, yet soft, skin in your hand, Din sucks in a harsh breath at the sensation. The sound is amplified and crackles slightly through the vocoder. A reminder that, although he has bared some of himself, he is still mostly hidden from you. He feels like more machine than man sometimes.

You take a bacta wipe from your medkit, and the antiseptic’s sour smell lingers unpleasantly in the air. You hold Din’s hand still, as you carefully bring the wipe towards his skin, your brow furrowed in concentration.

“This is going to sting,” you murmur apologetically.

Din nods. You hear him inhale deeply as he braces for the first contact with the remedy. You prepare yourself to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to make the process needlessly painful for him.

At the first touch of the bacta wipe against his bronze skin, he jerks away from your touch, groaning slightly in pain at what you are sure is an uncomfortable, stinging sensation against his cuts.

“Hold still,” you sigh, flashing a disapproving glance in what you hope is the direction of Din’s eyes, hidden by his helmet.

“Sorry,” he huffs.

You cannot help how your lips curl upwards at the sight of him sulking. This hulking man, all broad shoulders and gleaming beskar, reduced to a wounded child. You wonder if he is pouting beneath his helmet.

Din flinches again when you resume your task, but this time, you do not chastise him. Instead, you are thankful that he is not making this any more difficult than it needs to be.

At least he has not told you he can look after himself.

Content with his behaviour, you diligently tend to Din’s wounds. You ensure each one is cleaned thoroughly with the bacta patch and then wrapped in a bandage. It will take a few days to heal, but he will have plenty of time as you hurtle through hyperspace towards Nevarro again. Unfortunately, it will mean he likely has to refrain from being the hands-on father you know he loves to be.

When your task is almost complete, you move to sit by his side on the crate. You need to steady your hands by placing your elbows against your thighs as you wrap a particularly nasty wound, which already streaks angry red tendrils across two knuckles.

Din groans again in pain, and you quickly reassure him, “Almost there,” you whisper encouragingly.

With the task finally completed, you cannot resist gently taking his hand in yours. Ostensibly, to check him for any wounds you have missed. In reality, it is borne out of a selfish desire to feel his skin against yours. Precious contact you had been yearning for since you first laid eyes upon his skin all those months ago.

If Din notices the way you subtly lace your fingers with his and hold his hand in your lap for a few moments longer than necessary, he does not say a thing. Only when you disentangle your fingers from his grip does he speak again.

When you move to stand up from the crate, he places his arm across your stomach to stop you. You look at him questioningly, wondering what is going on beneath that bucket of metal.

“Thank you,” Din finally whispers, voice thick with emotion.

You move to open your mouth, to respond. Before you can, Din’s deep voice cuts through the stillness.

“For everything… I…” Din pauses, sighs deeply, then continues, “I appreciate everything you do for me.”

You simply nod, too taken aback to speak. It is unlike Din to be sentimental or emotional, not with anyone other than Grogu. It is part of what makes him such a respected and feared hunter. Yet, here he is, confessing his appreciation for you. It causes hotness to creep up your neck and face, embarrassed by his earnestness. Desperate to respond, but not entirely trusting that you can keep it together.

“You’re worth it, Din,” you smile, daring to believe that this moment will change something for the two of you. You hope he will finally realise the depth of the feelings you hold for him; that you have always held for him.

As you take his hand in yours once again, you sit back on the crate. You take up a more comfortable position and daringly lean your head against his shoulder. The pauldron is bitingly cold beneath your cheek. But with how warm your skin suddenly feels at his words, it is an altogether welcome sensation.

Din noticeably inhales at your gesture, and you momentarily fear you have hurt his tender skin. Until he relaxes once again and squeezes your hand as best as he can considering his injuries, a reassuring gesture that soothes your worries.

As you sit there holding hands in the relative darkness of the hull, you imagine a shooting star passing somewhere far in the skies above.

You wish on it and dare to dream that, one day, Din Djarin will love you, too.

Follow @thefrogdalorianfics for updates on my latest fics!

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #my fics #pleasE LET ME HOLD HIS HAND AND TAKE CARE OF THIS STUBBORN MAN #JUST ONCE PLEASE I M BEGIGIN YO UU1!!

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the-gray-ghosty · 8 months

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Sam trauma fics please!!! Anything with hallucifer/lucifer/demon blood just anything lmao

Thank you bestie<3

I am SO sorry this took so long bestie!! @ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty

I have SO many sam trauma fics bookmarked, so I'm going to rec specifically some of the hallucifer/lucifer/demon blood ones for you!

Through the Devil Softly by siamesedreams, hallucifer/implied/referenced noncon (no smut), gencest samdean, dean taking care of Sam as he suffers through anxiety attacks and ptsd from hallucinations in s7

Convalescence by impravidus, post!cage sam through the eyes of outsiders. Hallucifer and very protective dean

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand by ad_castra

"5 times dean comforts sam by holding his hand (and one time he doesnt). Sam detoxing from demon blood, hallucinations, trials of hell, this fic goes through different times of sam trauma and sam having mental health issues

Leaning out for love by angelshotgun

Sam's been detoxing for years, but his powers stayed. He hid them from dean for years, but when Sam is sick dean finds out.

Help is never far away by wolfcry22

Sam gets dosed with demon blood against his will and has to detox again, but he also has the flu. Protective dean and Bobby, and ofc sam angst and pain

Through the Devil Softly by siamesedreams

Hallucifer, where Sam can't tell whats real and what's not. Sam has panic attacks and ptsd, with protective Dean and WINCEST (but no sex, just cuddling and protectivness)

Catching my death (staring out an open window) by ad_castra

Hallucifer/post cage sam and castiel, with enochian speaking sam and castiel, protective castiel and dean and unstable hurt sam

Trialculosis Sam by fogsrollingin

This is one of my favorite fanfictions of all time. The trials of hell are pretty much killing sam, and dean is trying his best (most of the time) to do his best to help sam. This has queerplatonic samdean, with hugging and comfort and lots of tears and hurt sam!

Buried at Sea by shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod

With no leads on the darkness, sam and dean tour the queen Mary ship in long beach california. But when sam and dean are seperated, and a ghost locks sam inside an old cage elevator, post-cage hell trauma comes out. Poor sam! Lots of protective dean.

Hiraeth by inkandpaperqwerty

Season 4, when Sam and dean sre separated after dean finds out about the demon blood, sam overdoses on his antidepressants. Suicidal!Sam calls dean, and dean comes to his aid. Protective dean and very protective bobby, and a little bit anti castiel at the begining (he's kind of a jerk, but he does care about sam in his own way).

Let me know if any of the links dont work!! :)

#again i am SO sorry this took so long #<3 #sam and dean #sam winchester #sam angst #sam and trauma #hallucifer #demon blood #spn #supernatural #samdean #dean winchester #demon blood addict

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alastairstom · 1 year

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evermore songs as tlh characters/ships

I saw someone do this for Folklore and Evermore's my favourite album, so...

sorry nbnc isn't included i just had no idea what to do with it lol

willow -> thomas @ alastair

Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark Show me the places where the others gave you scars Now this is an open-shut case Guess I should've known from the look on your face Every bait and switch was a work of art

champagne problems -> james @ cordelia + matthew

[He'll] patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems

gold rush -> matthew

What must it be like To grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore At dinner parties Won't call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town We never found will never See a love as pure as it

tis the damn season -> anna @ ari

Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends Who'll write books about me, if I ever make it And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin' And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own

tolerate it -> alastair @ charles

honestly this one is too fitting it was so hard to choose a quote but--

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome I take your indiscretions all in good fun I sit and listen, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten You're so much older and wiser and I...

happiness -> matthew @ cordelia

After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness You haven't met the new me yet And I think [he'll] give you that

dorothea -> ari @ anna

It's never too late To come back to my side The stars in your eyes Shined brighter in Tupelo And if you're ever tired of being known For who you know You know, you'll always know me

coney island -> james @ cordelia

Did I close my fist around something delicate? Did I shatter you? And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island Wondering, "Where did my baby go?" The fast times, the bright lights, the merry-go Sorry for not making you my centerfold

ivy -> alastair @ thomas while in paris

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

cowboy like me -> ari @ anna

And the skeletons in both our closets Plotted hard to mess this up And the old men that I've swindled Really did believe I was the one And the ladies lunching have their stories about When you passed through town But that was all before I locked it down

long story short -> matthew

I always felt I must look better in the rear view Missing me At the golden gates they once held the keys to When I dropped my sword I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door And we live in peace But if someone comes at us This time, I'm ready

marjorie -> grace @ christopher (😭)

I should've asked you questions I should've asked you how to be Asked you to write it down for me Should've kept every grocery store receipt 'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me Watched as you signed your name Marjorie All your closets of backlogged dreams And how you left them all to me

closure -> alastair @ charles after the end of chog

Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better It cut deep to know ya Right to the bone Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better I know that it's over I don't need your closure

evermore -> cordelia @ james

And I was catching my breath Floors of a cabin creaking under my step And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar This pain wouldn't be for Evermore

right where you left me -> grace

I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

it's time to go -> matthew at the end of chot

Sometimes giving up is the strong thing Sometimes to run is the brave thing Sometimes walking out is the one thing That will find you the right thing That will find you the right thing And you know in your soul And you know in your soul When it's time to go

#evermore #taylor swift #the last hours #tlh #matthew fairchild #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #anna lightwood #ari bridgestock #arianna #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #jordelia #herondaisy #grace blackthorn #christopher lightwood #gracetopher

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disneybrandautism · 4 months

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here are some taylor swift songs i think each of the sides would like! (with some explanation)

nobody asked for this but im doing this instead of my APUSH homework. i’m going to start with roman and go through all of them!

(some ships are mentioned but it’s only a couple times. i promise it’s not all the songs.)

(roman has the most because he would be the biggest swiftie leave me alone)

Roman

enchanted- you cannot tell me roman wouldn’t love the disney romcom vibes of this song. he would love how sweet it was. it’s like meeting your hero.

i bet you think about me - he’s so petty. he would eat this song up.

mirrorball - i feel like this is a given. he would relate an insane amount to this song.

hoax - “your faithless love is the only hoax i believe in” be so fr. this could apply to any of his friendships or relationships with the other sides. his blind faith in the other sides. yeah.

the archer - we all knew this was coming. he would sob listening to this song.

jump then fall - again with the hopeless romantic bit. he would just thing this song is really cute.

question…? - i just think he’d have fun with song. he’d like the beat and just how much of a bop it is.

tolerate it - do i really have to explain myself? come on. he tolerates all the insults. this is his like standing up for himself era.

king of my heart - king is literally in the title. he would again just have fun with this song. so disney prince of him.

champagne problems - feeling the bad guy and knowing you fucked up. it’s so him oh my god don’t even with me.

i could continue. i won’t. next up is logan!

Logan

say don’t go - i just feel like logan would really relate to needing to hear someone tell him not to leave when he gets into an argument.

innocent - i can’t explain this one i just feel like he would get it.

the lakes - he would love the lakes and just this idea of loving someone like this. “take me to the lakes where are all the poets went to die”. this is his song.

marjorie - i feel like he would appreciate that taylor used her grandmothers vocals for this. i feel like he’s more in it for the genius behind her lyrics.

delicate - he lacks understanding of social cues often. “i know that it’s delicate”. he would eat this song up.

glitch - he would get this song in ways i can’t even describe. he would love the beat. his vibes fr.

no body, no crime - a story based song. he would think about this all the time.

lover - idk a reason i just think he’d really enjoy this song.

Patton

never grow up - he’s like a dad. so. watching his kids grow up. it would destroy him.

invisible string - i feel like he would love the idea of the string of fate. he would like the idea that he was just supposed to know these people.

you’re on your own kid - he would feel the pressure of just being on his own and feeling the pressure of being the moral compass.

state of grace - he feels like everyone is the “worth while fight”. yeah you know what i’m saying.

ivy - “you pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand” THE CARETAKER AGAIN

Me! - listen i know it’s not everyone’s favorite but this makes so much sense. the bright colors. the message of the song. the whole thing screams patton.

long live - he would think it’s a really sweet song. he adores the whole message and just how sweet it is. the nostalgia aspect. yeah.

love story - if anyone was getting this song it would be patton. queue the scene of richie from the bear where he is singing this in the car. that’s pat.

Virgil

electric touch - this is so in your face obvious. of course virgil would love the song with fob on it.

clean - i feel like he would relate to this. he’s finally not an “other side” and he’s just virgil. but he sometimes still misses them.

today was a fairytale - i feel like he would be unapologetically a fearless fan. he’s more of a hopeless romantic than i’m willing to admit. it’s so prinxiety coded idk.

closure - idk just very like “other sides apologize” to virgil. (i believe firmly in sympathetic other sides but i think virgil would struggle for a bit to forgive them)

my tears ricochet - “an i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want just not home.” home was confusing for a bit. where did he belong? yk?

afterglow - the bridge sounds like asking for reassurance during a panic attack. he would love this song.

the lucky one - he for a bit thought that he was the lucky one but realized that all the sides are messy and no one is perfect.

new year’s day - this is so analogince and it would remind him of his boyfriends. he would pick up bottles with them on new year’s day.

holy shit this is getting long. i’m sorry.

Janus

mastermind - he is so this song. he would love this song. he masterminds everything so i just know he would adore this song.

foolish one - i don’t know but i feel like he would love this song in a way no one can understand.

bigger than the whole sky - he probably feels remorse for all he did to roman. maybe he’s saying goodbye to the possibility of friendship? i don’t know but he would like this song.

you’re losing me - i really don’t have explanations for all these. i feel like janus angst always. he would like how this songs has a lot of self blaming.

bad blood - he has beef with a lot of people. i think he would enjoy this song ironically at first. then he didn’t.

so it goes - he is rocking out to this in his room. i just know it in my heart and soul and it makes me nuts.

dear reader - “if it feels like a trap, you’re already in one” this just feels like janus’ internal monologue. all the contradictions feels like deceit. yeah.

cowboy like me - he just wants someone to want the things he wants. he loves this song. it makes sense in his head.

Remus

cruel summer - he would love the beat. he could and would shake ass to this song.

getaway car - i think he’d endorse the message of this song and think it’s a lot of fun.

cardigan - he comes out when people are bored of roman. he definitely struggled being pushed aside so he likes cardigan a lot.

the way i loved you - he would love the idea that even after fighting with someone an insane amount you can still miss them.

i don’t have anything else for remus. i hope this makes sense. if not i apologize. if you think of anything else for remus let me know. i am just slightly nuts about taylor swift.

#i’m just nuts about taylor swift #roman sanders #tss roman #logan sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides headcanons #taylor swift #tss logan #tss patton #tss remus #tss janus #all the sides

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thetwelfthcrow · 4 months

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Ω༶ 4433 fic recs: omegaverse edition ༶Ω

welcome everyone to yet another fic rec list! this time: 4433 omegaverse fic recs, a list of my personal favorite omegaverse fics for the Lewis Hamilton/Max Verstappen ship. the F1ndom is a huge fan of omegaverse fics and these are specifically max/lewis. they include both men in either role (omega lewis and alpha lewis, omega max and alpha max). enjoy!

AO3 collection with all my Formula One bookmarks general favorite fics in the 4433 ship favorite christmas fics in the 4433 ship

always be sure to check the accurate and updated tags on the fic itself (i only copy a few)! if your fic is on here and you'd like me to link your tumblr then just comment below and i'll add it :)

༶ i'm only looking just to live through you vicariously by jazzy44 | T | 3,9k | 2/?ch, incomplete [series] alpha max - omega lewis / est. relationship / outsider pov / mpreg / fluff

A look into mated Lewis and Max's relationship through the eyes of other people.

༶ Trust by Anonymous | T | 3,2k | complete alpha max - omega lewis / est. relationship / loss of trust

Max stared for a moment, in a bit of shock himself - he hadn’t– he hadn’t meant to use the Voice.

༶ Not bad at all by Hurri_kane | T | 2,6k | complete [series] alpha lewis - omega max / implied mpreg / domestic fluff

Max has been through a lot but just as he has lost, he has won. And if at the end of the day all those bad moments have led him to where he is, he would happily walk the same path again and again.

༶ Fucked up over you by Anonymous | NR | 4,1k | complete alpha lewis - alpha max / enemies to lovers / implied sexual content / angst

“I will never submit to a stupid, fucking kid.” He grabs at Max’s arm, it’s not enough to hurt, but Max thinks he would rather it did. “Submit to me. Kneel down to me, Alpha .” The word is putrid, it feels like dirt in the air. Max is so glad he riled him up. === Lewis teaches Max how to really love.

༶ The First Cut Won't Hurt At All by Dumb_Thotticus | E | 5,6k | complete alpha lewis - omega max / stockholm syndrome / mildly dubious consent

Lewis was willing to do anything to take back the championship that was rightfully his. Anything.

༶ Lose Control by WebCookie9 | E | 10,6k | complete alpha lewis - omega max / light angst / sexual tension / pwp / possessiveness

"Did you even listen? I'm going into rut." he repeats to the younger but Max stays relaxed though he doesn't approach Lewis. "Yeah, I undetstand. I got it. But where's the problem?" "Where's the problem? Are you asking me where the fucking problem is? Seriously?" Lewis stands up from his seat, slamming both hands on the table and Max's eyes are wide open in surprise. "I'm going into rut with you right next to me on a god damn plane!" Lewis bellows. "So what? Where's the problem?" "Oh my god..." Lewis whines and pinches the bridge of his nose. "You being here. Close to me. That's the problem!" "That's not a problem. I can help you." "Help me? You think you can help me? How in god's name do you think you can help me?" "Let's fuck."

༶ I will hide and you come seek (let's play this game untill we meet) by Missha (Mishtique) | T | 13,8k | 7/7ch, complete alpha lewis - omega max / alternate universe: college / getting together

Private schools for the rich aren't the easiest to get through - especially not when you're Max, a late bloomer, who only presents as an omega at fifteen. The morning he wakes up and realizes he presented, everything becomes harder because of the nauseating scents he can't seem to escape from. Until he gets to a clearing, where he finally finds rest. A stranger being near wakes Max up, a stranger that carries the first scent he likes since presenting. However, things don't become easier after that.

༶ My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand by LaceyAmethyst | E | 12,3k | 3/3ch, complete alpha lewis - omega max / mpreg / angst with a happy ending

After colliding with his Mate on Lap 1 of the British Grand Prix, Omega Max finds out he’s pregnant with his and Lewis’ pup while in hospital after the race. With his instincts on fire and his mating mark fading, Max knows there is no easy way forward.

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askbox always open for your favourite 4433 fics! i love to know what you love to read. this list is not complete (nor will it ever be) and will be updated irregularly. enjoy reading!

#zhalia's lil' chit chat #4433 fic recs #4433 omegaverse fic recs #omegaverse #a/b/o

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winterlovesong1 · 1 year

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my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Summary: A Lucy Carlyle/Anthony Lockwood Fanfic. A character study/headcanon piece about Lucy Carlyle and her tendency toward scars. For @scarletslippers

Author Notes: Happy Birthday Allison! I hope you enjoy this piece about our new hauntingly beautiful ship in honor of your special day. Title from Ivy by Taylor Swift

-/-

She had a tendency toward scars, a leniency that skewed toward the occasional bump, haphazard bruise, markings that would leave questions and hardly any answers. Or at least the kind of answers she was willing to provide when asked. The truth wasn’t something she offered readily.

(if at all)

Read the rest here

#lockyle #lockyle fanfic #tv: lockwood and co #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood

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succyobsessions · 2 years

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My Fav Sapphic Ships + Taylor Swift Songs

1. Dani x Jamie (The Haunting of Bly Manor)

The Lakes— Folklore

“Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die

I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you”

“I want auroras and sad prose

I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet

'Cause I haven't moved in years

And I want you right here

A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground

With no one around to tweet it

While I bathe in cliffside pools

With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief”

“I'm setting off, but not without my muse

No, not without you”

2. Calliope x Juliette (First Kill)

Don’t Blame Me— Reputation

“Don't blame me, love made me crazy

If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right

Lord, save me, my drug is my baby

I'll be usin' for the rest of my life”

“For you, I would cross the line

I would waste my time

I would lose my mind

They say, ‘She's gone too far this time’”

“And baby, for you, I would fall from grace

Just to touch your face

If you walk away

I'd beg you on my knees to stay”

3. Shoni—Shelby x Toni (The Wilds)

Wonderland— 1989

“Flashing lights and we

Took a wrong turn and we

Fell down a rabbit hole

You held on tight to me

'Cause nothing's as it seems”

“Didn't they tell us don't rush into things?

Didn't you flash your green eyes at me?

Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds?”

“So we went on our way

Too in love to think straight

All alone or so it seemed

But there were strangers watching

And whispers turned to talking

And talking turned to screams”

“We found wonderland

You and I got lost in it

And life was never worse but never better”

4. Emaline x Kate (Everything Sucks!)

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince— Lover

“It's been a long time coming but

It's you and me

That's my whole world

They whisper in the hallway, ‘she's a bad, bad girl’ (okay!)”

“It's you and me

There's nothing like this

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (okay!)

We're so sad, we paint the town blue

Voted most likely to run away

With you”

“And I'll never let you (go)

'Cause I know this is a (fight)

That someday we're gonna (win)”

5. Mae x George (Feel Good)

State Of Grace— Red

“So you were never a saint

And I've loved in shades of wrong

We learn to live with the pain

Mosaic broken hearts

But this love is brave and wild

And I never (never)

Saw you coming

And I'll never (never)

Be the same”

“This is a state of grace

This is the worthwhile fight

Love is a ruthless game

Unless you play it good and right

These are the hands of fate

You're my Achilles heel

This is the golden age of something good and right and real”

6. Deena x Sam (Fear Street Trilogy)

Dancing With Our Hands Tied— Reputation

“I, I loved you in secret

First sight, yeah, we love without reason”

“I could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets

Picture of your face in an invisible locket

You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it

I had a bad feeling”

“I, I loved you in spite of

Deep fears that the world would divide us

So, baby, can we dance

Oh, through an avalanche?

And say, say that we got it

I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted”

“Yeah, we were dancing

Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied

Yeah, we were dancing

(Ooh, we had our hands tied)

And I had a bad feeling

But we were dancing”

7. Idgie x Ruth (Fried Green Tomatoes)

Ivy— Evermore

“Oh, goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered in you”

“What would he do if he found us out?

Crescent moon, coast is clear

Spring breaks loose, but so does fear

He's gonna burn this house to the ground”

“How's one to know?

I'd live and die for moments that we stole

On begged and borrowed time”

“So yeah, it's a fire

It's a goddamn blaze in the dark

And you started it

You started it

So yeah, it's a war

It's the goddamn fight of my life

And you started it

You started it”

————

Click Here For My Fav MLM Ships + Taylor Swift Songs

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writingsofhubris · 1 year

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Grace for Sale

[AO3] Rating: E WC: 3.2K Tags: Blood and Gore, Torture, Blood Kink, Magic, Buried Alive, Eye Trauma, hand Truama, Knives, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Fandom: Sorcerer's Apprentice Ship: Maxim Horvath/ Reader Disc: Happy Halloween, enjoy Maxim torturing his lover's abusers in front of them.

“I will say. There is rarely a reason for obscene, gratuitous violence. Harming another just for the sake of those actions alone?” A soft ‘tsk’ fell from Maxim’s lips. “No. It is pointless, it is worthless to bloody one’s own clothes, soil one’s own skin with another’s blood.” There was silence in the woods, when Maxim’s voice echoed to a stop.

“Who-”

“Don’t waste my time with pointless questions.” His dark eyes flickered up, finding the man who’d asked the question. “Do you know the benefit of living for as many years as I have?”

“I'm older than-”

“No, you very much aren’t.” Shadows fell across the clearing in differing measure; the near pitch blackness meddling together into a tangible entity. The oppressive feeling, the deathly silence, tightened around chests. It was stifling, and freezing, and each of the three acted as though they were unable to breathe, if only for a moment.

The lash of pain to their eyes was caused by a sudden, bright floodlight, illuminating the dying last flowers of spring, the start of crunchy grass underfoot.

Maxim finally came into the light, his well fitted jacket imposing a sight that kept their breaths tight in their chests.

“Final question, and I do hope at least one of you knows the answer to this. It will be for your benefit if you do.

“Do you know why you three have been brought here?” Now illuminated, they all looked between the others, confusion growing as they were able to apprise the others. The confusion grew, until a name was spoken, whispered among the trees, a hiss following the syllables. Maxim watched the confusion melt from each face, expressions once again morphing. One with contempt, another with disgust, the last with a sickening smile on their face.

“There we are. See, I, once, took an oath to protect all of humanity, to protect any that could ask for help. It didn’t take me terribly long to realize that was *not* the path that I wished to take, offering hours of labor for the chance at bread. It was made clear to me that those who love often find themselves hurting those who are not meant to be hurt. But more often than not, I found myself seeing the monsters who claimed to love. I found that love was an excuse, love was a lie, used to cover the truth of humanity: living is pain.” Maxim finally stepped closer to the three, his cane tapping into dried grass, cracking on pinecones.

“Do you know how many years I now have lived? How much pain that brings to a person?” His stance was wide, at the feet of the middle person. “Do you know how much pain there really is in this world?” With an almost casual effort, Maxim lifted his cane, almost inspecting the black shaft in the darkness provided by his torso.

Looking at the ground, his polished shoe lifted only slightly, looking down at the man.

“Do you know how much pain a single human can survive? I do.” His hand took the bottom of his cane, holding the roughened tip in his palms, the head now tilted down to the grass. “I have experienced more variety of pain than I know you will ever find in this world.” Maxim's second hand took the cane, and with a strength hidden by his coat, he drove the head of his cane directly between the man’s legs, a scream let loose in the woods.

“Please do be as loud as you’d like. No one can hear you, this far out.” The cane was pulled back, only to complete the rotation with the jewel being driven directly into the throat of the third man. “Only the coyotes, and they do fancy a meal around this time.” His head turned to the final person, a smile on his lips, nearly deadly.

It was at that moment that

The head of the cane started to glow blue again, and the untouched man suddenly struggled to peel the branch that suddenly appeared around his neck, nearly too tight to breathe through.

Legs kicked out, trying to find enough purchase to gain traction once more. Nothing seemed to be enough, the branch simply tightening even harder the more he struggled.

"Shall we see how many years of pain we shall condense into tonight, hm?"

"No, no. No," the word was repeated in a fury by each man, still with energy to protest, to argue. Each plea fell onto deaf ears. Maxim didn't care, didn't even delegate enough attention to them to even really process the words any more than he allowed the wind whistling through the leaves on the branches. The metal head of the cane fell hard onto the choking man's hands, a sudden shout of pain all that was allowed out.

"We can do better than that." The head of Maxim's cane glowed blue, and the hand was manipulated to pull from the restraints, onto to rest above his knee by about two feet. His shoulder struggled to pull away from the magic force to no avail.

"Is she worth losing your soul?"

"They would be. If I still had one." The blue jewel came down onto his hand, bones crunching in a satisfying way, an indent in the skin from the sudden lack of skeletal support. Another, harder hit, and the skin split, a bone fragment slivered through the rough flesh. The rain of blows only finished when nothing but a few veins and a couple tendons connecting the remaining fingers to the wrist. His cries had disappeared into whimpers, and once the onslaught was done, his sounds only turned to soft gasps, trying to sequester the pain out of his mind.

The handle of his cane then met the man's breastbone, simply resting on the spot. Blood smeared over the already ruined shirt. The blood was smeared into a nearly perfect target, a small x mark of blood.

Instead of allowing a weapon to fall, allowing pain to proliferate, Maxim merely pulled his cane back, inspecting just where the blood and sinew had caught, before driving the metal down onto the collarbone of the man with the smile. The crack rang again, another sound of pain, and for his trouble, he was rewarded with the other side of his collarbone broken as well.

Each sound of pain ended up mixing with the sound of blows, the small clearing little more than a scene of horror. Time lost meaning as he returned years old blows, injuries that were all but forgotten to their memories.

When the head of his cane was coated in blood, Maxim took the first steps to you, recognizing you were even there for the first time in nearly an hour. His cane was set to the ground next to your feet, and his bloodied hand rubbing up your calf, streaking the skin with red. His lips touched your knee as he looked up at you.

With a fluid motion, he stood, taking the rag folded near you to clean off the bulk of the blood. As soon as both hands were clean, he unbuttoned his jacket, and smoothly laid it over your shoulders, the thick fur settled around your face, cutting the cold wind from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His lips pressed to your cheek, swathing you through the wool with his heat. “Were you cold? You’re shivering.” You pressed your cheek to his, taking a deep breath in, before nodding. His scent surrounded you, curled around your body.

“Thank you, sir.” His lips pressed against your cheek once more, before pulling away from you, once more ignoring your existence. His hands rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, expert fingers folding the fabric just so. Ink buried deep in his skin at last shone in the harsh light, and from your vantage you could see them flicker in frustration, flitting around his skin, waiting for the chance to express their own frustration.

“I could list every single incident they’ve told me.” You saw his fingers start to pull at his glove, sliding the fine fabric off his fingers. His fingers tightened for a moment before storing the gloves in one of his pockets. "Every dire second of pain, even nights they spent alone, believing themselves to be broken…" he softly tutted, ending with a soft laugh.

"No, instead why don't I just…" looking at the one who's face at shore with contempt, Maxim one again pulled his cane back, and allowed the handle to embed itself in his cheekbone, shattering the thick ridge of bone. His screams only lasted for a few moments, until the cane returned its path and dislocated the man's jaw. Whimpers fell instead, any jeers possible effectively cut off from his mouth.

The lapel of Maxim’s jacket suddenly, without any obvious cause, moved from your chest, and two of the knives he always housed in the inner pocket carefully floated to him, before he pulled them from the air. The face that had so shortly before been filled with Contempt looked at him, trying to find any source of pity.

"Please… please my good man, allow me…"

"Pity? I will allow you the same pity that you allowed them each time they asked you. We can all assume how much that is."

"Good God, you can't be that…" Maxim cut in.

"Unjust? Painful? Cruel? No, you each have crimes to atone form, crimes there is no proof for, no evidence for the jury to weigh against testimony." Knelt as he was, it was hard to see just what he was doing, just what his hands were adjusting on each of the tied up men. The blade once again flashed into the light, sharp edge nearly the only highlighted spot.

Maxim let the knife tilt up the chin of the one who had disgust on his face. "I'll take your tongue as your punishment." Then, to his left. The blade pushed up on the dislocated jaw, almost popping it to its home, but it fell short with Maxim’s thumb squishing down the shattered bone further into cartilage and muscle. "And your eyes as my trophy." His knife then moved to the chin of the one who had smirked at first, any form of cockiness well disappeared from his face. "But you? I'll be happy to alleviate you of your cock."

Well practiced with these blades, the knife was grasped hard in Maxim's hand, and his hand came down to aim the blade directly into the third man's shoulder, strong metal slid through flesh and chipped into bone. His scream managed to ring through the clearing again, before it tapered off into a sob.

"What are you?"

"A man who refuses to allow harm to come to what's mine." As if using a joystick, Maxim let magic flood through the metal into the man's nervous system, convulsions suddenly shaking through him.

"Stop! Just kill us!" The magic stopped, and Maxim allowed the blade to pull out of the man, knowing better than to keep a weapon so easily in their reach.

Instead of responding, he only took the time to drive his foot directly into that man’s hip, the joint missed, yet the pelvic bone hit.

Branches rustled, the shouts of pain almost seeming to cause it.

“Your wish will be granted.” Once more, Maxim’s thumb pushed into his face, bone fragments ground against each other. Then, the knife came close to his face, mere inches from the sphere of his eye. The very tip of the sharp metal moved closer, piercing the gelatinous orb. “If you shift your eyes even a millimeter, this cut will worsen.” As if by the mere suggestion, the man’s eye darted down, cornea sliced in but a mere second.

The scream that rang through the clearing allowed the rest to fall to shame, agony shook through branches and dead leaves. It wasn’t until it tapered off that you heard Maxim’s voice again.

“I did warn you.” His arm flexed, clearly driving it deeper, before twisting. The pleas that fell were incomprehensible, and his feet kicked out in a futile effort to inflict pain onto the man who had just caused so much to him.

When maxim moved to one of the other victims, you could see tears streaked over one cheek, but blood mirrored on the other side. His head fell against the trunk of the trea he was tied against, shallow breaths moved his chest in the smallest of movements. Pain seemed to filter weakly through his nerves in small jerks of his legs.

Maxim’s cane was pressed into the inner thigh of the smirking man, pressing the skin to the side. A deep red started to glow from his lap. His legs didn't respond quite right, one leg kicking out before a resounding pop came from his hip. Foot turned the wrong way around, he couldn’t even attempt to move the leg, only broken gasps fell from his lips.

That knife found home in the hole from earlier, digging back into cartilage and bone. The yell rose and fell, his head turning away from the knife, an attempt to put some space between the blade and his own body.

Maxim cupped the blood pouring from the wound, allowing a small amount of blood to gather on his palm. There wasn’t a terrible lot that he caught, only a couple tablespoons or so. Hair still in his eyes, he took the chance to smooth his hair back, dark locks sticking together with the organic liquid. The red didn’t show against his dark locks, but shine appeared on the strands.

His other hand smeared down his locks tighter against his head. A river of blood ran down the back of his neck, dispersed into the sheen of sweat on his skin, soaked into the light linen of his shirt. Maxims shoulders rose, then fell, a deep breath pulled into his lungs.

"Don't worry. One of you is going to be lucky now." You saw his cane rise, the tip pointed at the one with that smile. "You, I think."

You saw the glow of his cane, slowly getting brighter in the dark area.

“But don’t think that you’ll get out of this easily. This little spell will boil every drop of blood out of your skin.” A twist of his cane in his fingers, and the man went silent. “And this will make your end feel like eternity.”

Your hands tightened on the ropes wound around your wrists, not terribly tight or painful, only enough to hold you to the spot he wanted you; just on the wrong side of the floodlights, hidden from the view of the writhing masses illuminated.

Even as Maxim walked to you, just as much control over his steps as he ever did, you couldn't find fear in your body. The torture he'd just preformed could never be allowed to pass from his hand to your body. Even as the blood soaked knife touched your jaw and tilted your head up, the only comparison in your head was to an avenging God, a divine creature covered in a demon's black ichor.

"Alright, sweetheart?"

"Maxim…" His eyes were on your tongue as it darted out to lick your lower lip. "Please." Your wrists tugged on the ropes, pleading to touch him again. The lick of cotton disappeared from your skin as the ropes fell away. Maxim didn't stop you as your hands moved to the catch of his pants, his heavy cock guided directly into your waiting mouth, eyes looking up at his heated gaze.

A blood coated hand slipped to the side of your neck, trying to guide himself deeper into you, searching out your heat. Tacky blood transferred from his hand as you greedily worked to bring him pleasure.

Maxim’s soft sighs entered the ambient noises of pained groans and shifting leaves, death rattles and skittering roaches.

When he finally pulled his hips away, his length slipping out of your mouth, his hand had to force you back to the chair instead of follow him. The knife he'd been holding moved to your throat, a thin line of red transferred to the skin.

"Patience, pet." He waited until you stopped squirming, looking at him with bated breath. "Much better. I don't want to nick you." The blade then shifted, a sharp edge splitting the front of your shirt to his eyes, allowing him the moments to look over your body. Nearly carelessly, he threw the knife to the side, the sound muffled as it hit the dead grass. "Stand up."

There was no hesitation, and Maxim turned the sturdy chair around, the back now facing the three husks of what used to be men. Still mostly tied up, they couldn't have known what you were going to do, even if the flood lights were illuminating you. Maxim guided you onto the chair, knees on the seat, and hands holding the back. His body was warm behind you, a security even as each of the people who had hurt you were unable to move, to register anything before them.

His coat, still over your shoulders, was thrown over your body, and your pants pulled down. Blood coated fingers slipped between your legs, feeling the slick that had gathered. He couldn ‘t hold back after feeling that, allowing his cock to slowly spear you open, position forcing you to be trapped between maxim and those that Masxim had so recently tortured.

“You’re mine.” He settled inside you, cock rested as deep as his thrust allowed him. “Just mine, from now on.” He allowed himself a couple short thrusts, a sigh fell from his lips to your neck. “No one will hurt you again.” Your hand reached back to grab his, and you guided it between your legs, that extra bit needed for your peak. His fingers, so very familiar with your sex, started to work you just as his thrusts started in earnest.

He knew just how to thrust himself into your body, heavy and thick, as his growls fell. Each sound was complimented with a thrust, just intent on your peak.

“The only time they will touch you again is now, this blood. They won’t be able to hurt another person.” His lips moved to your ear, hot breaths fell against the edge. A kiss to the shell, and Maxim started to thrust deeper, harder into you.

He only slowed slightly when his cane was in his hand again, the final knife stored in his jacket slowly lifting out of the silken lining. The blades lifted, his free hand grasped your chin, and tilted your head up to watch.

In only a moment, that blade embedded in the chest of the one with contempt.

Seeing the sudden spurt of blood was all you needed to cum, his mouth pressed against your neck, kissing along the expanse offered to him. He came deep inside you, claiming you in a new way.

"What are you going to do with the last one?" Your foot trailed over the outside of his thigh, a soft plea for affection.

His tacky hand was on your hip, allowing his breath to slowly steady again.

“What would you want me to do?”

“How long can a restraint spell last?”

“As long as I will it.”

“Good. Bury him between those two, in restraints.” Your lip curved up on that last word. “Alive.”

#maxim horvath x reader #x reader #maxim horvath #blood #.W #molinaverse

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