#I hope he loves the rest of his life by just adding fuel to the fire that is his life

[silvermaplealder]

Follow the Leader: Chapter 1

I wrote this because I love body-switching trope stories and I decided to share this one.

Story Summary: David switches bodies with a stranger, Michael Emerson, after a motorcycle accident. Michael has to take on the role of a vampire gang leader while David has to adapt to a domestic human life until they can figure out how to change back.

Chapter Summary: David has to deal with the stresses of being the lead vampire of his pack. There is more to making life run smoothly as a vampire besides existing and looking cool

Word Count: 3165

David stood just outside the cave, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes scanned the horizon, watching the last rays of the sun disappear beyond the water. Food, he thought to himself. Fuck, we need gas… he adjusted his gaze to his hands as he mentally listed off the chores for today. Eating, refueling, mending part of his jacket. The list went on and on. 

The thing about being the leader of his crew was having to keep track of everything happening. His boys were demanding when it came to lifestyles. He had to keep track of getting fuel and repairs for the bikes. He had to keep up with all of their little hobbies. Buying the cigarettes for himself, the weed that they shared, the alcohol, the art supplies for Marko, the list never ended. 

Being a vampire came with a lot of responsibilities.

He finished his cigarette and headed back into the cave. The other three boys were finally awake. When the bleach blonde arrived, the boys sat up and gave him their attention. “Breakfast?” Marko asked immediately. 

“Yes. There were a couple of those assholes from the other day-” David began. 

“Dewy and Martin, right?” Paul cut in quickly. 

David inclined his head. “Yes. I expect we’ll find them on the boardwalk. They’re our target tonight.” 

“What about that chick Donna?” Marko asked. 

David shook his head. “No, not yet. Later this week.” 

“But what if I’m still hungry?” the youngest whined. 

The leader sighed softly, looking over the curly haired vampire. He hated having to ration food. It wasn’t fair. “We can grab a snack on the boardwalk later,” David promised. “Let’s head out.” 

The crew followed David obediently to the bikes. The vampires mounted the motorcycles and headed to town. 

How’d the stalking go last night? David telepathically asked Dwayne over the sounds of their engines. 

Just fine. Dewy and Martin should be heading to the arcade tonight if nothing’s changed, Dwayne responded. 

Good. Let’s hope they’re there. David led the pack straight into town towards the main parking lot of the boardwalk. 

We could go after Donna as a plan B, Dwayne responded as they rolled up to park their bikes. It’s Tuesday and last I checked she had a spinning class that ends at nine.  

David sat back on his bike as he cut the engine. He fished a pocket watch out of his coat to check the time. Then we don’t have much time. Those brats better be at the arcade. David was quick to lead the way onto the boardwalk. He couldn’t risk missing out on the potential meals. Grabbing someone random was always a huge risk. 

The pack of vampires stalked down the boardwalk. David kept his eyes ahead of him, never faltering from the entrance to the arcade. He brought the rest of the pack up behind him as he slipped into the largest arcade on the boardwalk. Fan out, let’s find them, he demanded. 

The vampires scattered quickly. David’s eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s. He scanned the tourists, searching for the two late teens who had harassed Paul almost three weeks ago. The teens were quickly added to their menu, but David didn’t want to snatch them right away. They were young and foolish. Someone would be looking for them if they didn’t come home. But he waited and watched. Last week, Dewy got kicked out of his family’s house for attacking his younger sister. Martin was housing him at his folk’s house, but Martin’s family was away in Los Angeles this week. Two boys, all alone. No one would know they’re gone for days. 

The bleach blonde carefully admired the people he passed. He felt compelled to start stalking them. Tourists were so curious to him. He loved following them and figuring out their lives. He’d watch them from the windows of the hotels. He’d follow them on the rooftops across town. He’d listen in on their conversations and find out who they were and what they did. There were plenty of perfect meals wandering the boardwalk. He just had to find the right one and strike when the time was right. 

Found them! Paul’s voice cut through the leader’s skull. 

David sensed his companion and snaked through the crowd. The four vampires surrounded the teens without their knowledge. David’s eyes scouted through the crowd. The arcade was busy this evening. He could start a scene and provoke the teens into a fight. But then security would be called and tourists would remember their faces. Loss of good prey. 

Marko, Dwayne, wait outside by the river. Paul and I will lure them there. Dwayne and Marko were quick to follow his orders. David liked to keep Marko out of potentially heated encounters since the young vampire had a temper. 

The bleach blonde approached the teens. “Well,” he stated, alerting them to his presence. “Dooby, right?” His tone was drenched in mockery. 

The hot headed Dewy whirled around on David. It took him a moment to recognize the older boy and his companion that he saw a few weeks back. “Oh, it’s you,” Dewy remarked. The teen looked David over before giving a sneer. “Couldn’t find anything else besides your grandmother’s dress to wear today?”  

David gave a small mockery laugh. “It’s called having class, kid. Something you’ll never have.” The vampire looked the brat’s outfit over. He lashed out a hand and snatched the boy’s chain around his neck. He yanked it off harshly, resulting in hatred flashing across the kid’s face. “Only dogs wear chains,” David teased. 

“Oh you’re on pal,” the boy hissed. 

David turned on his heel and shoved through the arcade. Get to the edge of the boardwalk, and quickly, David instructed. 

Paul nodded and quickly disappeared among the crowd. 

The boys weren’t interested in his taller companion. Dewy and Martin stayed on David’s heels as the vampire brought the two straight out of the arcade building. He paused just enough to rile up Dewy enough to lunge for him. David sidestepped the teen and then ran towards the river. 

Paul stalked just out of sight. He followed the chase past the roller coaster and down towards the river. Dwayne and Marko stood their ground in the darkness, waiting for the ambush.  

David brought the teens towards the river bank and paused. He looked over to Paul who came behind the boys. “You want this piece of junk so bad?” David taunted. He tossed it over their heads to Paul. “Then come get it.” 

Dewy shoved the bleach blonde backwards. David took a short stumble back and scanned the surroundings. The boys turned to Paul who stood his ground with the necklace held over his head. 

No watchful eyes. The coast was clear. Go. Feast.  

Marko and Dwayne were quick to swoop in from the shadows. Paul threw the chain to the ground before latching onto one of the teens. 

The three vampires tore the boys apart before they could make a sound. David kept a few steps back to watch his pack feed. The scent of blood forced his fangs to slide out. His stomach cramped in hunger, but he kept his distance. Marko pulled at one of the boys, trying to get more than his fair fill. Dwayne and Paul shared a glance but they tugged the second boy closer to them. 

David turned away from the carnage to get away from the blood. When the boys were finished they washed up in the river. Marko splashed Paul with some of the water, causing the two of them to start wrestling playfully. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Dwayne whispered to David softly. 

David glanced over to the playing blondes. He exhaled. “I’ll grab a snack later. You’ve seen how Marko gets when he’s still hungry. I can handle my hunger.” 

“That’s fair,” Dwayne commented. 

David let the dark haired vampire break the two fighting blondes apart while he turned his attention to the bodies. He scooped them up easily and admired the work that his boys did. Teeth and claw marks all over their bodies. David grabbed at Dewy’s arm with his teeth trying to get a taste of his blood. There wasn’t much left, but he managed to get a couple swallows in. He took to the sky and dumped the bodies into the ocean. 

He rejoined the other vampires on the boardwalk. The three of them anxiously waited for their leader to return. The second he did, Paul headbutted the bleach blonde playfully. David grunted and Marko gave the taller vampire a smack. The two of them started nudging each other until David clicked his tongue for them to cut it out. 

“David, can we go back to the arcade?” Marko begged. 

“Got no money for arcade tonight, boys,” he replied. “Why don't you and Paul put those quick fingers to work and snatch some cash, hm? Bring me back a pack of cigs.” The blonde vampires playfully saluted their leader before charging off into the sea of people. “How's Veronica?” He asked to his last companion. 

Dwayne shrugged. “Haven't seen her in a week or so. Not since Tony showed up not long ago.” 

“Put them on the menu for tomorrow,” David ordered. “Get an idea for where they'll be.” 

Dwayne nodded. “You want to come with?” He offered. 

David pulled out a cigarette and lit it carefully. “I wish, but I have to meet with Max. We'll all catch up at the bikes later. We'll need to fuel up and then we can get back to the nest. Hopefully the blonde terrors can get a good stash tonight. We could use the money.” 

Dwayne gently put his hand on David's shoulder. David leaned into the touch to show his appreciation. “I'll bring you home something to eat,” he promised. David gave him a warm smile. He trusted Dwayne picking something safe for him. Dwayne was always his rock. The man could steady David through any storm. “Got my eye on this kid down by the docks. No family. No friends. Real loner.” 

“You're quite the hunter,” David praised. “Tell you what. Let me finish up with Max and then I'll meet you by the docks. We can grab the kid and then stalk Veronica.” 

David made quick work of his chores knowing that he'd get something to eat when he was finished. As Max's oldest boy, David took the role of being second in command. He met with Max regularly to discuss the town and what plans they had for it. Max wanted to expand his reach into the local government whereas David wanted more freedom. Max didn't mind what the boys did, as long as it kept the city on their toes, but didn't have the locals with torches and pitchforks searching for them. Max liked the uneasiness of the town. He could use fear to control the local population. And since David and his crew were the root of the fear that drove this town wild, Max had more control than anyone realized. 

After their meeting, David returned to the docks to meet Dwayne. The poor man's boat dock, as the boys took to calling the smaller one, had fishing boats and was the main launch for canoes, kayaks, and other small boats. For the rich who had nice luxury boats, they were stored on a separate dock with security cameras and a regular patrolling guard. 

But on this dock, a young boy sat at the edge of the dock. David had seen him before but sorted him into a “starvation” category on his menu. The boy was barely in his early teens, but clearly running on his own. Scars coated his visible skin showing signs of abuse over many years. 

The boys didn't typically eat kids. Kids didn't have nearly as much blood as their adult counterparts. They weren't as filling and oftentimes would only result in angry parents. Of course during the off season all humans were game, size and age no longer mattered. But when the summer was full swing and thousands of new meat hit the streets each night, there was no need to feed on the young. 

But tonight David's hunger was gnawing at him hard. The kid had no one to go home to. No one to love him. The vampire saw it more as a mercy killing. 

Dwayne watched as his leader swooped down onto the child and quickly ended him. There was no fight. David knew when it was appropriate to play with his food and when he just had to go for the kill. When he was finished, the two vampires returned to their bikes to refuel and regroup with Paul and Marko. 

David and Dwayne sat on their bikes in the parking lot as the blondes came barrelling from the boardwalk. David held his hand out as Marko dropped a pack of cigarettes in it. It wasn't a brand that he preferred, but it didn't matter when it was given to him. He examined the pack seeing that they must have lifted it from someone's pocket. “Good work boys,” he praised, resulting in a happy noise from the smallest. 

“Got two hundred dollars today, David!” Paul bounced over to his bike excitedly. 

David gave him a warm smile. “That's very good. Why don't you two grab some gas on the way back and meet Dwayne and I at the nest later? We're stalking tonight.” 

“Can we come?” Marko pleaded. He gave David his big, puppy dog eyes. 

David propped his wrists up on his handlebars. He liked having the younger two learn hunting skills, but they tended to get in the way. “If you want to do some stalking, why don't you two check out that motel on Edmund? Watch the residents and see if you can get a running list of who's there and who'd make a good meal.” 

“Got it!” Paul cheered. 

“Remember, it has to be low profile. Figure out their check out date so we can figure out when to grab them.” David started up his engine. “No snacking.” 

The blondes, given their new orders, excitedly got onto their bikes and headed off to complete them. The motel on Edmund was a good mark for fresh blood, but it wasn't in the best shape so the place was never fully booked. Even with it's low prices, people liked to avoid it. It was a common motel to hide from one's spouse while hooking up, or a cheap place for drunken men to bring women they met at the bar. But every once and a while, a good meal would stay for a few days.  

David pulled out of the parking lot with Dwayne at his side. They had to make sure dinner was still on for tomorrow. 

Veronica lived outside of town. Dwayne had met her several times on the boardwalk. She was young and excited to get his attention. But it turned out she had a fiance. While Dwayne was looking for an easy mark, it got easier knowing that the fiance returned and was pissed at the situation. Tensions aside, the two lived together in a small home with next to no neighbors. Tony was her high school sweetheart, but she started to see other men on the side while Tony would go on “business trips”. 

Tonight, neither were home. David and Dwayne parked their bikes down the street and flew to the house. David picked the back door open and they started pawing through the place. David only cared about finding a schedule or calendar that would have their plans safely jotted down. And it didn't take him long to find one. He found a small notebook at the kitchen table. “They're having dinner with some friends tonight,” he commented. “Must be out late.” He flipped through the handheld planner. 

Dwayne stalked around the house. “Washer and dryer here,” he commented. 

“Great, it's about time we did laundry,” David grumbled. He hated domestic duties, but when you're a stinky vampire you have to maintain a healthy relationship with hygiene to keep living alongside humans. “They've got no plans for tomorrow. We can swing by after dark.” 

“Sounds good.” Dwayne continued to go through the house, examining all the knickknacks that he considered taking.

David left the planner on the table as he found it. “Let's go back.” He waited for Dwayne at the back door. 

It took the brunette vampire an extra minute before he returned to his leader. In his hand was a little trinket. “What's this?” He asked, passing it to David. 

The bleach blonde took the spherical trinket from him and examined it. “No idea.” He couldn't read the engraved words on the little bell-like thing. David played with it in between his fingers before sliding it into his pocket. 

The two vampires turned back to their bikes and began to head home. They took the winding back roads at a speed no human should. The two teased each other with a little race. 

Nothing got them more competitive than a race. 

David swerved onto a side road, cranking up his speed to try and cut off Dwayne up ahead. Adrenaline raced through his body as the boys couldn't see each other and tell who was winning. David didn't want to lose. He was the leader and he had to prove his mettle. 

He popped back up onto the main road. Dwayne wasn't ahead of him, though he could hear the engine of the other bike. He turned his head over his shoulder, barely seeing the headlight of his companion through the winding trees. 

He looked behind him for a fraction of a second too long. He snapped his attention back in front of him when movement caught his eye. 

Movement from an SUV. 

The vampire was blinded by the headlights of the vehicle. His vampire eyes were too sensitive to such lights in the darkness. His entire world went bright white. He was so overwhelmed with the race that he hadn't heard the sound of the car coming towards him. He tried to close his eyes and use his other senses, but it was too late. 

He instinctively swerved, but the SUV collided with his back tire. The vampire was thrown from his bike, crashing down onto the asphalt. For any human it would have been severed limbs and instant death. 

David couldn't feel anything, but he knew he wasn't dead. He wanted to open his eyes and get up, but he couldn't feel where his arms were. He knew for certain he hit his head and that his senses were gone for a duration of time. The only thing he could do was lay there and wait. There was no pain though. Maybe it was shock but he knew that consciousness was slipping away and fast. 

#the lost boys #lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #tlb #vampires

[aesthetic-uni]

Misha Collins is the funniest straight man ever. He’s the only person to arguably queerbait in real life. He had to come out as a straight. He was told by WB to just stay bisexual. He’s living every homophobe’s nightmare scenario but the only difference is that everyone actually loves it for him

#misha collins #also don’t argue about me about the queerbait thing I know he didn’t it’s just a fucking joke #anyway back to the funny #more straight people should honestly be like him #keep ‘em on their toes #or something #I know nothing about this man or supernatural #but I adore him #have y’all seen his feud on Tiktok with icaruspendragon? #btw someone should check on her #but it’s hilarious #I hope he loves the rest of his life by just adding fuel to the fire that is his life

[iiovserii]

Daddy’s Home — Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel didn’t get to be picky when it came to choosing his new, forever home, as long as he was in Gabriella’s arms again. Even if it meant sharing her with you. (3.1k Words) Based on this prompt

warnings: angst, slight smut, violence (including the disposal of a body), emotional manipulation, toxic relationship

authors note: this was inspired by one of my prompts from around a week ago and i’ve been holding onto this bad boy for about a week considering it’s my first ever fanfic i’ve ever wrote..i just wanted it to be perfect 😭 in my prompt i said something about the reader being sweet but she’s a lot more firey in this because the real miguel was an asshole who was never home..but i hope you all enjoy anyways! i was hoping to create this into series so if you want to be added to the taglist let me know 💖 i’ve also added the translation at the end just because 🤷‍♀️

Link to the Ao3 ver instead!

Miguel didn’t get to be picky when it came to choosing his new, forever home, as long as he was in Gabriella’s arms again, even if it meant sharing her with you. You were littered through Gabriella’s file, a pretty hard person to miss considering the fact that you were there for every single moment of her life—the sweet cooing voice in each video of her as a baby, the delicate hands that held the small, chubby fingers as she took her first steps, and the laughter that arose from behind the camera as Gabriella pulled a funny face.

This Gabriella was the perfect fit, however perfect came with a mother that was alive and well. It was a package deal in this universe, a love intertwined with filial devotion that Miguel would just have to deal with.

But he couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that was buried deep in his chest, even as he watched a memory of Gabriella’s first goal (a favorite of his), which was originally only celebrated by him, now being replaced by Gabriella shrieking excitedly as she ran up to her mother, throwing her arms around you in triumph.

Moments like these, so special for his little girl, fueled his deep hatred towards you. It was watching these memories where Miguel genuinely wondered if he was even present in this universe. Nevertheless, staring down at his own lifeless body made him realize just how right he was.

What was he doing outside alone, in a dark alleyway on a Friday night anyway? Why wasn’t he home with his daughter, with his wife?

Those were the thoughts that ran through his mind as he began disposing of the body—a man too selfish and weak to even protect his precious daughter. In the end, he got what was coming to him, or so he told himself to keep from feeling guilty.

He didn’t care for details, knowing he was here now to pick up the pieces of a broken family and restore it to something he could finally have a second chance with. He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the jingle of a ringtone coming from his new phone. Swiping the phone from his pocket, he didn’t even stop to waver whether or not he should answer as he saw your name flash on the screen, rolling his eyes as he pressed accept. He pulled the device up to his ear, resting it on his shoulder and cheek as he listened to the sound of your voice.

The first thing he noticed was how tired you sounded—were you waiting for him to return home? He could imagine you laid on the sofa, eyes nervously glancing up at the clock at any given moment, a silly housewife awaiting her husband. He almost felt bad for you; it was pathetic that you would really allow yourself and Gabriella to live like that, always waiting.

He ended the call swiftly, making up some stupid excuse about how he caught up with work and would be arriving shortly. Pretty much in character for the man he just suffocated with his own hands, not raising any suspicion for you as he heard the sleepy yawn telling him that you’d be asleep by the time he got back.

However, despite the dark act he had just committed, he was willing to go to great lengths to win Gabriella's heart again. If putting this ring on his finger and pretending that the woman on the other end of the phone was his wife would grant him another chance with her, then so be it.

He wouldn’t mind playing house with you, as long as he was able to hold his daughter in his arms once more.

He felt disgusted even calling you 'wife', but for Gabriella's sake, he knew he needed to play along. It wasn't like it mattered anyway since your daughter worshipped you so much more than him.

He didn’t need you, he knew that.

However the thought of Gabriella’s eyes as they lit up when you walk in the room seemed to tell him otherwise. She needed you.

He hated the way the house was never quiet, there was always something happening.

You were making dinner? There had to be music in the background as you traveled around the kitchen, humming and singing along to whatever tune was playing on the speaker. That soft velvety voice seemed to flow through the house, and it killed him inside that he wanted to hear more of you.

Gabriella was playing outside? Well you were playing outside as well, it wasn’t like you had a choice, having being pulled away from whatever you were doing to entertain the small girl.

You had everything running like clockwork—cooking dinner while managing homework and playing with Gabriella at the same time—all without seemingly breaking any sweat or becoming frustrated.

Miguel couldn't help but admire you for being able to handle everything so seamlessly. But deep down, he still felt resentment towards you for taking over what should have been his role as the sole parent of their child.

He’d notice small things, like the way your hands flew to your face when you were shocked, it was sweet at first, until he realised Gabriella also did the same, she never did that before. He had noticed it one morning when he stood in the doorway of Gabie’s room, not trying to make his presence known as he watched the two of you play, and the scowl on his face didn’t go unnoticed as you furrowed your eyebrows at him, wondering what he looking at so intensely.

It took him the first couple of weeks to get used to your laugh, you were always laughing. It seemed to rub off on Gabriella as well, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her laugh this much, even before.

Miguel tried his best to ignore the feelings that arose in him at the sight of you playing with Gabriella, and sometimes even joined the two of you whilst you played your games. He couldn't help but feel envious of how happy the two of you looked together, reminding him of moments he could have had if only things had gone differently.

Despite these feelings, it wasn't long before Miguel began to see a different side of you. A side that made him realise why Gabriella adored you so much.

One day while cooking dinner, he noticed your eyes lighting up as Gabriella told a story about her day at school. You were so invested in her words that for once he felt like an outsider looking into your world.

He also witnessed moments when Gabriella fell ill and how tirelessly you took care of her; staying up all night by her bedside until she fell asleep or gently rubbing Vicks on her chest when she was coughing painfully.

It was moments like these when Miguel started to question his assumptions about you and wondered whether maybe—just maybe—he'd been too quick to judge.

But as much as Miguel tried to ignore it, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had buried something deep inside him. He couldn't let go of the resentment he felt towards you for replacing his role.

He started focusing on every little mistake you made, criticising your cooking and getting angry when things didn't go his way. Every time you laughed or smiled at Gabriella, it sent a pang of jealousy straight through him.

"She's too attached to you," he huffed, standing beside the bathroom counter as you both prepared for bed, "you can't even leave the room, and she's already wondering when you'll be back again."

"Well, maybe if you were around more often, she wouldn't be so reliant on me," you retorted, the soft glow of the bathroom lights casting shadows on your face, your voice laced with frustration.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned in, reaching for his toothbrush, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, of course, it's all my fault. Because you're just the perfect parent, aren't you? Always there, always available."

"You know what, maybe if you actually made an effort instead of criticizing me all the time, you'd see the bond we have is because I've been there for her when you weren't!" you retorted, your voice rising, the sound echoing against the tiled walls.

His tone grew more defensive. "I never said I was perfect, but at least I'm trying now. You could at least acknowledge that."

A mirthless smile crossed your face as you leaned against the bathroom counter, facing each other in the confined space.

"Acknowledging your half-hearted attempts doesn't erase the damage done, Miguel. It takes more than just physical presence to be a real parent."

The tension hung heavy in the air, the scent of toothpaste mingling with their argument, as the bickering between husband and wife intensified. The wounds of the past were reopened, and neither was willing to back down or see the other's perspective.

As the heated exchange reached its peak, you turned on your heels, ready to storm off, your frustration boiling over. But just as you took a step away, Miguel's hand shot out, firmly gripping your arm. The air tightened between you, the coolness of the bathroom tiles beneath your feet.

The grip on your arm only tightened, his expression a mixture of frustration and a confused longing. "You don't speak to me like that," Miguel growled, his voice firm. "You are my wife, act like it."

“You are my husband, I expect the same from you,” you snapped back, your voice dripping with defiance, refusing to back down as you swatted away his hand. “And—I will speak to you however I want.” The sound of running water from the faucet filled the silence.

A flicker of amusement crossed Miguel's face, his eyes tracing your determined form. He had underestimated your strength, your fiery spirit. Despite the frustration that lingered between them, a newfound admiration stirred within him.

"Si supiera que eras tan molesto, te habría dejado hace mucho tiempo, Muñeca," he mused, his tone tinged with a mix of fascination and curiosity, the steam from the shower filling the bathroom. “Las cosas que haría para callar esa boca tan bonita tuya.”

The intensity of the moment had rendered you momentarily speechless, steam rising in the bathroom as the warm air surrounded you both. But you managed to find your voice, albeit in a whisper, the sound barely audible over the running water.

"Now that's not fair," you murmured, the dampness of the bathroom clinging to your skin, your voice filled with a mixture of frustration and longing. "You know I don't understand what you're saying..”

A slow, mischievous smile curled at the corners of Miguel's lips, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as he leaned in closer, the scent of shampoo and desire filling the air. And as your lips lingered so close, the unspoken desires between you both grew stronger.

“Good.”

The man currently asleep beside you, was not, to absolute certainty, your husband.

His features held a resemblance to the man you once knew, but there was a striking difference—an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes, he looked at you like he didn’t know you.

His hair fell differently, it looked more clean compared to the tousled mess due to work. You would've sworn he had a small crease in the corner of his eyebrow, but then it disappeared along with the mole on the side of his neck.

He smelled of citrus and leather before, a smell that made you turn when he walked into the room—you knew that smell more than you knew yourself.

Instead now, all you could smell was warm spice and amber. It almost made you smile when you smelt it on him as he walked past you that morning, a couple of weeks ago, until you realised that was the fragrance you got him last Christmas, the fragrance he said he hated and never wore.

The bed, too, felt subtly different beneath your weight, as if it dipped just slightly more than it used to.

It made you feel like your heart was tearing apart. On one hand, he was paying more attention to Gabriella, and she was thriving because of it. He took her to all the soccer practices, played with her and held her so tight that you’d think she’d pop.

You’ve never seen her so happy.

On the other hand, he was hardly in your presence. He hadn’t touched you for weeks, not even a kiss. The most he had done was argue with you, mostly about how close you and Gabriella was.

However, one thing that you couldn’t help but notice was the dark look in his eyes every-time Gabriella’s attention shifted toward you.

He was hardly around before, always at work, the gym or drinking with his co-workers at the bar across from town.

Nowadays it was hard for him to leave you and Gabriella alone.

Not to mention, it was like he grew twice in size. His shoulder looked broader, the veins in his arms popped, more defined. He could basically pick up your seven year old like a feather. Had he been working out more?

You shift on your pillow, eyes glancing down at his heaving chest as he slept. The only time he didn’t look so tense recently was when he was asleep. So peaceful.

You couldn’t help but reach out and dance one of your fingers on the side of his torso, quietly humming some annoying tune that wouldn’t leave your mind that morning.

"What are you doing, Gatita?" he quipped, unable to suppress a soft chuckle that escaped his lips, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you squeak.

As you tried to pull your hand away, Miguel quickly caught it in mid-air, his touch exerting a gentle but firm hold. His finger lightly pressed into your palm, a subtle reminder of his presence and it was almost like he was showing his desire to keep you near.

“What, don't you like touching your husband?" he playfully remarked, mischief dancing in his eyes. His gaze deliberately traveled down your body, as if savoring the sight before him.

Rolling your eyes and pouting, you couldn't resist the urge to make a bratty remark. "Well, it's not exactly enjoyable when the husband is such a pain in the ass." you huffed, your tone laced with a hint of childish defiance.

Feeling his firm hold on your hand, you let out a whine at the tightness. It was as if he was purposely trying to keep you close, unwilling to let you slip away. The intensity of his grip only fueled your frustration.

That’s an air between the two of you. You just couldn’t put your finger on it. The way you desperately try to search in his eyes for something, anything, that would tell you that the man you’re looking at, is, really your husband. The man you’ve spent nearly eight years with.

It’s almost like he’s trying to breathe you in, the way he looks like he’s trying to piece together your features, it makes you wonder if he even knows a thing about you.

The weight of the impending moment made you fidget, your fingers nervously playing with the edge of the bedsheet. You were acutely aware of the lingering tension between you and Miguel, and you attempt to find a way to wiggle your way out of his grasp.

A timid sigh escaped your lips, as a sense of unease settled upon your shoulders. "Gabriella will be waking up soon," you whispered, your voice tinged with a flicker of concern.

A cruel smirk played at the corner of his lips as he leaned in closer, invading your personal space. "Is my little wife hiding from me?" he sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm and mockery. “You know she’s not getting up for at least another hour.”

Your eyes darted nervously between him and the door, your mind already jumping to potential escape routes. You couldn't help but wonder if he was purposefully trying to push your buttons with his words.

"I just don't want her to-," you began to stutter, but were cut short as Miguel's grip tightened further on your hand. "Don't worry about Gabriella," he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against the nape of your neck. “She’ll be fine.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation; it stirred something within you that you couldn’t quite explain. Within the eight years of your marriage, he had never made the room feel so..heated.

You gasped at the sensation of his lips pressing into your neck, sending shivers down your spine in a wave of desire and guilt. All logic told you that this was wrong, yet there was a part of you that wanted nothing more than to give in to the heat that bubbled within.

As Miguel's kisses grew bolder and more insistent against your skin, you couldn't help but writhe beneath him.

His groan reverberated through your body, stirring something deep within as he whispered against your ear "I know I've been a bad husband," punctuating each with another kiss along the length of your jaw.

"Miguel-" Your voice trailed off into a soft whimper as he shifted so that he was hovering over you, one hand moving to fondle at the curve of your hip while the other tangled itself in your hair.

"But I'm here now," he murmured between kisses before ducking back down to press his lips onto yours once again. The taste of him flooded through you even as he reached up under-shirt slowly caressing and teasing you, making sure not too much display signs of pleasure.

As the heat continued to build between you and Miguel, he began to part your legs, eliciting a soft gasp from deep within as his intent became clear. You felt his lips curl into a knowing smile at your reaction as he watched your mean facade fall away.

"Mmm," he hummed in appreciation as his eyes roamed over every inch of exposed skin. "Looks like my little wife isn't all mouth after all." He teasingly remarked before lowering himself once again so that his tongue could trace patterns along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

The sensation left you moaning softly in pleasure at the skilled touch, completely lost in the moment. It wasn't until Miguel's fingers found their way back up to her hips that you realized just how much control he had over this situation.

"You know what?" He said with a smirk pulling back to look at her face before diving down for another heated kiss "I think maybe have to put you in line more often."

You wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

eng translation:

1. “Si supiera que eras tan molesto, te habría dejado hace mucho tiempo, Muñeca,” — "If I knew you were so annoying, I would have left you a long time ago, doll."

2. “Las cosas que haría para callar esa boca tan bonita tuya.” — "The things I would do to silence that beautiful mouth of yours."

3. “Gatita” — Kitten

#miguel o’hara au #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #my first ever fanfic #hehe hah this took me too long to make.. #miguel o’hara x fem reader #miguel o’hara imagine

[v3nusxsky]

114 and 34 🔥 with larissa? i don’t know how it works, i’m sorry it’s my first time here

Sweet girl 18+

*Authors note~ loving the use of the prompt list and a formal apology to anyone waiting for requests im still not in the swing of school yet*

Trigger warnings~ public sex edging mommy kink Praise kink degrading kink fingering oral teasing edging dom larissa sub r fem r punishment spanking

Prompt~ 114 and 34 🔥 with larissa? i don't know how it works, i'm sorry it's my first time here ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ "Come in my love and lock the door dear. You'll be here for a while" the principal murmured to you as you entered the room just after the lunch bell. "Rissa, my love, i have class" you whispered hoping to avoid what was ultimately coming your way in the near future. "Now i know my little witch knows that mommy already checked her schedule. Are we trying to escape your well earned punishment?" Judging by the blondes raised eyebrow, you knew you'd added fuel to the fire, "No mommy, i was a brat" you confirmed hanging your head low in shame. "And now you're going to see what mommy dose to sluts who cant follow my rules, kneel" she demanded pointing to the side of her desk chair.

While you repeated the safe word's for her she worked on stripping you of your skirt, tights, and emerald lace underwear. "Good job, now you are getting five, so be good and it will stay that way, misbehave or miscount and we start again with two extra for every mess up, am i clear?" You tapped your index finger against her thigh to show you understood before feeling a hand rest on the small of your back to steady your frame on her lap. "One thank you mommy" you squealed and made sure you took a deep breath before the next strike. You do not want to disappoint the older woman anymore than you did to get yourself in this position. "Five mommy thank you!" you sobbed slightly gasping for some air as the sting began to subside. "Good job darling girl, now tell mommy how to fuck her girl. Rough or gentle?" she purred rubbing your back in a soothing manner. "Rough please mommy" you whimpered as she brought her fingers down to tease your soaked hole. "Hmmm later sweet girl, God I'd fuck you right here if i could, however you haven't earnt the privilege of mommy touching you like that have you love?"

"Please mommy let me earn it. Please! Ill do anything" you pleaded with the principal. That is where she brought out your remote controlled vibrator and instructed you to sit still and not fight her. if you could make it through her meeting she'd fuck you the way you love. Naturally you were ready to do anything to cum for her so she knew you'd let her insert thee toy, fix your skirt and conjure yourself some tights. the joys of dating a powerful witch. You took your place under her desk with her final warning ringing in your ears, "don't make too much noise, you don't wanna get caught now, do you?" The voice of the Mayor filled the room and you internally groaned, this was going to be one hell of a meeting because he talks entirely too much for your liking. it could also be down to his jealousy of Larissa choosing you, an outcast, a witch over little ole boring him. Thankfully for you, your wife also tires of the Mayor quickly and focused on subtly playing with your aching core until you were driven to insanity of being edged to high hell. A constant vibration was currently assaulting you swollen clit when you noticed your wife spreading her legs to reveal her cunt to you. immediately knowing what she wanted you to do you got to work eating her out like your life depended on it. the thrill of getting caught only adding to the fun as you flicked your tongue against her hard puffy clit as you thrusted two fingers into her warm heat and began to curl them just how your mommy had trained you to.

It's a blur really, one minute your lapping up her orgasm and the next she tugging you up from under the table and praising you for what a sweet slut you are and how well you did for her. You'd truly earnt your reward and she was going to make damn sure she spent all night, touching, kissing, sucking, biting your smooth skin as she brought you over the edge and overstimulated your poor pussy until you were nothing more than her dumbed down sweet little girl who had been properly fucked like her slutty heart deserved. There would be no surprise to Larissa if your magic reacted during this, it only happened during heightened emotions like this and you knew she would always listen to your body. Who needs to walk on a Saturday morning anyway?

word count~ 986

Tag list

#v3nusxsky answers #anon answered #fanfic #anon requested #larissa weems #larissa x you #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #larissa smut #principal larissa weems x reader #principal weems #larrisa weems #V3nusxsky #v3nusxsky kinktober #weems #weems smut

[pandorasprongs]

INTERLUDE | are we still friends?

'it's nice to have a friend' fic masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

SUMMARY: after months of ghosting, reader finally gets to talk to jamie again at the end of her second year.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: so we're going back in time to when reader's in uni and early in jamie's man city career :) hope u all enjoy! (also i know frats aren't a thing in the uk but i didn't find that out till after i published the prologue rip) i'd also suggest listening to 'are we still friends?' by tyler the creator for this chapter too just for the vibes — also!! thank you so much for 200 followers it's insane so many of you enjoy my fics :))

Age 19

"And that's it for this semester! Congrats everyone!" Your professor greets the room as the last person finishes their presentation. The room cheers, — albeit weakly given that most of the students there were coming down from their finals week caffeine addiction, — and everyone soon starts filing out.

You pass by your professor on the way out with Liv and hand her the trinket that the two of you planned on giving out to all of the professors you've had this semester. Some out of gratitude, some to make them feel guilty for the low marks they've given. This certain professor, a lady in her mid-40s who has been in the STEM area of research for years, had designated the two of you her favorites.

"Thank you so much, ladies. It was such a pleasure having the two of you in my class." You both give her a warm smile before heading into the hall. 

When you make it outside of the building, Liv lets out a cathartic scream of relief. "It's finally done!" You laugh at your friend's reaction. You were glad too, but not enough to yell in public.

As you headed back to your student hall, you pulled out your phone. It had become routine to message Jamie every time you were heading back to Manchester, which you were the next week when your parents picked you up.

Hey Jamie! How've you been? How's Man City? Saw the match with Cardiff, you did great.

You press send before adding on, If you're still here, maybe you want to meet up before you go back? I'm heading back to Manchester next week too if you want to meet up then instead. 

You send that too and type out I miss you, but after glancing at the rest of your unread messages, you delete it and sigh in defeat.

You don't even know why you're still trying. You haven't spoken to Jamie in months. No, it's almost been a year. The last time you did was when you went home for the summer holiday after your first year of uni, but even then, Jamie seemed distant and cold. He left the lunch early too after he got a call from his manager, much to your dismay. Even before that, his messages to you were getting less and less frequent till he finally stopped replying a few months into your second year.

Maybe it stung more knowing it was around the time you left that you realized how really felt about him. It wasn't just platonic love anymore; you might've actually been in love with your best friend then. But those feelings have since disappeared, at the same rate that Jamie disappeared from your life.

So now you were in a pub, supposedly celebrating the end of your second year in uni, but you couldn't stop staring at your phone, waiting for a reply. You've been re-reading your message to him and staring at that delivered in the corner until you finally broke out of the trance thanks to one of your friends calling out to you.

"Oi! You're not even tipsy. Are you playing or not?" Tina asks and you shut your phone before shifting your focus to the conversation. Right, you're playing Never Have I Ever.

"Shit, sorry," you apologize before lifting your hand. "I am now. What's the last one?"

"It was never have I ever slept with a footballer," Liv explains quickly, but the entire group had this knowing look on their faces that told you everything they thought of you.

Maybe it was fueled by the anger directed at said footballer or the fact that you knew they all thought you were a prude for not having hooked up with anyone the whole time in uni, — as far as they knew, — but you give them a knowing look that caused everyone's expressions to shift.

"No fucking way, you have?" Sam asks and you take a shot as confirmation.

"Technically yes," you explain but decide to hide which player it was. Because if they knew it was one of the up-and-comings of the Premier League, you'd never hear the end of it. Plus, one of them was bound to snitch to a newspaper for sure. "Back when I was 17 and before I left for uni, I slept with someone who ended up getting scouted." You neglect to mention that someone was your best friend, who agreed to be your first time because you were sure you'd make a bad decision the moment you stepped foot in a uni.

If they knew where you were from, they would've figured it out instantly. But you didn't have a Mancunian accent and none of them had ever bothered to ask where you were from over these two years — except Liv, who was no longer paying attention to the whole game and just scrolling on her phone, — so you were basically in the clear.

They moved on from your grand revelation quickly and continued with the game. At the end of it, you were probably the most sober out of all of them, so you ordered a Cosmopolitan. Maybe alcohol led to bad decisions, but at least it kept you off your phone.

You continued to talk with your friends till Tina gasped. You all turn to her to ask what happened when she exclaims, pretty loudly, "Looks like all of us have a chance at checking 'hooking up with a footballer' off our lists tonight." She giggles before leaning back into her seat.

You join the rest of them to look at what Tina had just seen and realize that not one, but two teams' worth of players had just walked into the pub. From Cardiff City and... Man City.

You already feel your heartbeat quickening and your eyes instantly start looking for Jamie in the crowd. The thoughts of 'he has to be here,' and 'he can't be here,' battle it out in your head, but when your eyes finally land on your former best friend, you don't know if the butterflies in your stomach are a good thing or not.

"Well, fuck it." You hear one of the girls you're with say as she downs another shot and gets up from the table. Some of the others join her in the group, but you're still frozen from nerves. Best way to heat up? More cocktails.

You watch with the other girls from a distance as the braver ones take their chances with the footballers on the other side of the bar. But for most of it, you can't take your eyes off Jamie. 

He looks really different, like bad different. He's loud and boisterous, but not in the way he was before. You watch how he talks to his teammates and you can almost see how his overconfidence masks the level of insecurity he has with much older players. Or maybe you're overthinking it. You haven't seen him in a while.

When your friends get back to the table along with some new drinks and stories, you try and listen intently. But you really couldn't stop looking behind them.

You don't think Jamie's felt your eyes on him, so you weren't worried he'd turn and see you staring. But if he did, you wondered how he'd react. Would he go wide-eyed and stare back or just look away as if he didn't just spot his best friend of a decade at a pub? You were about to find out.

After downing one of the drinks in front of you, — you weren't even sure if you were the one who ordered that one, to be honest — you excuse yourself from the table. When they saw where you were walking over to, they decided to start cheering. It did help your nerves, even though you were approaching them for different reasons.

"Jamie!" You get his attention and the moment his eyes land on yours, shock fills his face. You almost scoff at that. He goes to the place where you're studying and assumes that he wouldn't run into you?

You didn't even plan out what you were going to say, so instead you sarcastically greet, "Nice to see you here. In Cardiff. Where I go to uni."

Jamie doesn't say anything and just continues to stare at you. His cocky facade almost slips too, till one of the other Man City players rests his arms on Jamie's shoulders and he suddenly tenses. You've seen him before, probably in one of those tabloid articles, judging from his overall demeanor. He seemed like the type to get into those scandals.

"Ah fuck, I thought we got rid of you lot already. Don't you have enough drinks from your friends over there?" George, you finally remembered his name, states and you're taken aback. He must've seen you coming from that direction.

"No, I'm not here for that." You answer bluntly before turning back to Jamie, starting to get annoyed. "Are you seriously not going to say anything?" 

The Jamie you knew would be the first to defend you, even if it was just over someone knocking into you in the halls or stealing your pens. But it wasn't that you were after, honestly. You just wanted him to say something, anything at all.

"You know her, Tartt?" George scoffs and looks at Jamie. When Jamie continues to stay silent and just looks down at his feet, he chuckles and nudges the younger footballer. "A past hook-up, huh? Judging by your reaction. No need to be embarrassed, Jamie," he glances back at you and tries to whisper, "She's quite fit. Well, by your standards."

You roll your eyes, the anger starting to bubble. Now, Jamie had to say something right? But seeing no reaction, you correct him yourself. "Look, I'm not one of his bitter exes. I'm his..." You actually don't how to end that sentence.

George takes advantage of your pause and by now, some of the footballers around them had turned their attention to the scene. "Look woman, I don't care who you are to him, but take. the. fucking. hint."

You still don't remove your eyes from him. "Jamie," you whisper, almost pleading at that point.

Jamie looks up and seeing the multiple eyes on him at the moment, he finally speaks up, "You want an autograph or something? We're trying to enjoy our night, so I'll sign a napkin for you and you can be on your way."

The coldness in his response causes you to stumble and you take a step back. What did he just say to you? You try and search his face for any sign of remorse or guilt. Something that says, 'Please don't hate me, I didn’t mean it.' Nothing.

The sounds of the other footballers laughing don’t help either; it only contributes to the rising feeling of heat and embarrassment in you. You can feel the tears starting to form. There's no reason for you to break down in front of all of them, so you answer quickly, "Right. No need. Sorry for disturbing your night." 

You turn around quickly, but not without hearing George ask Jamie who you were. For a second, you almost thought he'd give him the truth.

"Dunno, probably some fan I met before." That breaks the dam and the first few tears drop to your cheeks. A crying girl isn't an irregular sight at a bar, but you really didn't feel like staying in the same place as Jamie anymore.

You approach the table to grab your things when you notice that most of your friends had already scattered across the pub. The only one left there was Liv, — who was the designated driver for tonight despite your university being a 5-minute walk away — who notices your tear-stained face and is quick to rush over to you. "What's wrong? What happened?"

You shake your head. "Don't worry. I just want to head back." Liv hadn't even known you for two years, but she knew that you weren't one to talk about your feelings. Instead, she nodded and offered to help you out of the pub, but you shook your head once again. You had a relatively high limit and partner it with what just happened with Jamie, you were practically sober. You grabbed your clutch and coat before rushing out of the place, furiously wiping the teams from your face.

Fuck Jamie Tartt. Fuck those Man City losers. Fuck everyone involved in turning your best friend into whoever that was. The boy you once knew was gone. Fully and completely gone. You had to accept that.

But even then, you thought you'd hear the door open behind you. You thought it would be Jamie. You thought he'd chase after you. You thought he'd pull you into a hug. You thought he'd apologize for what he did and for everything. You thought he'd cradle your face as he did so. You thought he'd plant a tender kiss on your lips as an apology too. You thought he'd re-enter your life as if nothing had changed.

But he did none of that. 

And you went home alone.

—

"(Y/N)? It's Liv, again!" You hear from the other side of your door, but make no attempt to move from your position in your bed. It was just too comfortable, perfect for wallowing in when you've officially ended the longest friendship you've ever had. Liv continues, "I'm heading home soon, but I asked Donna if she could keep bringing food for you to your door till you head home."

You were touched by the gesture but knew you weren't going to touch any of those bags till late at night when the hall was completely deserted. Till then, you'd be sleeping. Your parents had delayed picking you up till the last day and you've never been more glad about that.

"See you next semester! Love you!" were Liv's parting words and once you heard her footsteps recede, you fell back to sleep.

In all honestly, you've lost track of time at that point. Yeah, it was pathetic sitting in your room as if you were mourning the death of a loved one, but it's not like anyone cared. Well, Liv did, which is why she started bringing you food when she realized you weren't leaving your room, but she was heading home to London. Your parents had no idea what happened and you intended to keep it that way. The rest of your friends were off with their own lives, not even giving you a second thought. Jamie sure as hell didn't care what happened to you. He made that clear.

So for the rest of your time left in the hall, you just stayed in your room. Like a hermit. Jamie would've found it funny, you thought once, till it caused you to burst into tears once again. The more you tried to forget Jamie, the more you thought of him, which was the worst loop you could be in.

He's even in your dreams. One of them felt so real because you were in your exact position in reality when your phone rang. You saw his name as the caller, but 'dream you' just pressed decline. Even deleted the missed call notification. Good for her.

Then, you wake up to a missed call and a text from your mom. On route to Cardiff! Can't wait to see you, sweetie. 

Ah, fuck. Had that much time really passed? You jumped out of your bed and start fixing up. Technically, you had 3 and a half hours to do so, but counting showering, cleaning up your suitcases from your dusty closet, and shoving almost a years worth of items into said suitcases, then you were in a bind and never prayed for traffic more in your life.

And from the sheer fear of your parents giving you a sermon in front of the entire building, you almost forgot about your former state of wallowing in self-pity. Then you were faced with taking down the decorations on your wall. 

There was a mix of everything from school banners, even flyers, and pictures you'd taken with your friends and parents. You started with those first until the only ones left were the ones related to Jamie. You had pictures with him from multiple stages of your life. There was one from the first football match of his you ever attended and one from your graduation, too. 

You had kept the note he made you when you were 16 and you joined your first individual debate tournament. ‘Fucking smash it!’ was scrawled in his handwriting on a post-it note, which you've hung on your wall since your first year of uni. 

Even the rings he used to buy you for your birthday till his mom told him to find something new. You slowly pulled them from your desk drawer and realized there were only four. One missing. They were old anyway. You end up shrugging it off and placing them into your suitcase.

When you started inserting the rest of the items into an envelope, you continue to look at that picture with Jamie from when you were seven. Suddenly overcome by an emotion — rage, pity, nostalgia, you're not really sure, — you crumple it with your two hands and hold it like that for a few seconds. 

You finally let go and see the two distorted faces, you're suddenly overcome by feelings of guilt. 7-year-old Jamie didn't do anything wrong; what was the point of taking your frustrations on a picture of him? Maybe you can throw darts at a printed photo of the current Jamie when you get home instead.

You flatten the picture as best you can before putting it back into the pile in the envelope. You finish packing your desk and place all the items into one of your suitcases. You look around the room, satisfied. Sure, your sheets weren't made yet, but you were going to leave the place anyway and you needed to shower. It was 40 minutes till your parents would knock on your door, — as seen in the picture they sent of the GPS — so it was more than enough for you to get ready.

Time passed by quickly and soon, your dad was helping bring your bags down to the car while your mom talked about how much weight you've lost while you were away, like they always did. 

"Oh! Jamie, he had a game against Cardiff last week, right?" Your dad remembers as he starts the car. You almost freeze at the name, but turn to look out the window to avoid your parents catching whatever expression you had on your face. You were too tired to mask it properly.

"Yes, he was amazing!" Your mom exclaimed before asking. "Georgie said she told him to meet up with you here. Did he?"

"No," you answered quickly. You never lied to your parents, which is probably why they accepted your response so easily. You don't look back at them and continue to look at the passing trees. "Must've been busy."

A/N: yeah... and there you go! here's what happened that night in the pub and hopefully it makes me much more clear why reader still holds something against jamie! we're going back to the present day timeline for the next one so stay tuned!

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamietarttdodo @meg-ro @deepdarkvelvet @taytaylala12 @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #it's nice to have a friend series

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

❝Sweet as pie❞

Phillip Graves x Reader

So basically me and @sarahs-secrets2 exchanged ideas and I hope I did it justice!

Summary - you're a waitress and you're dealing with a particularly cocky regular.

✮

The sun was peeking over the horizon, hazy colours still swirling in the sky as you parked outside the café and opened up for the day. It was quiet, except for the sound of cars speeding by. It was only a stop n' go after all.

Buttoning up your uniform and now stepping out to see an array of customers filling up the booths, chattering away as you passed to get your notepad from counter.

That was until you heard a distinct voice.

"Hey, doll."

Your head swivelled around quickly to meet with him.

For the past week, this cocky, smart-mouthed man had sat in the same booth. For the past seven days, playing out the same exact routine.

"God, is it just me or do we keep running into each other?", he smirked, removing his aviators from his face and tucking them into his shirt pocket.

"Hi. Again. Do you want the usual?", you rested your hands on your hips, letting out a sigh. You'd met many douchebags in this café and he wasn't any different from the rest.

"Of course. You know me so well, already. Why don't you sit down and we can get to know each other a little more?", he grinned, batting his lashes innocently up at you.

He's just another country bumpkin who's trying to get laid.

"Honey," you smiled back at him, "I'd love to have coffee and hookup in the back of your lovely little jeep parked outside, but I'm actually quite busy because I have a life. Okay?"

He took a moment to process what he heard, before breaking out into laughter.

"Honey? Oh, girl, you're just adding fuel to the fire."

You didn't respond, tapping away at the tiled floor with the sole of your foot. You wanted to stay longer, but this café, the customers and the overstimulation it brought made you bossy and unsociable.

"Ah, are you alright?", the chuckles died down and he now raised a brow at you.

"I'm fine, I just- I really need to get to work."

"Sure thing, doll. Come talk to me when you're free."

The whole time you rushed from one table to another - he was still there. Sitting idly with his cup of coffee, fumbling with the dog tag hanging around his neck. You could feel his eyes boring into you every time you passed by his booth.

He always ordered the exact same thing: 'A black coffee - and keep em coming, darling.'

After running through the majority of the day around the café, it started to quiet down and people were filing out slowly but surely. Only a couple lingered by the afternoon, including him.

Slowing your steps, you approached his table again, he seemed a little taken aback to see you once more.

"Hey."

"Hi.", you breathed, letting out the pent up air you seemed to be holding in this whole time.

"Take a seat.", he nodded in front of him, to which you obliged and attained yourself not to collapse into the booth.

"What's it like?", you blurted out loud, now setting off a panic in your head yet keeping calm - mainly due to how tired you were at the moment.

"Hm?"

"Not having to run around and serve entitled customers?"

He let out a low chuckle, "It's alright, but I'd rather be here than my job."

"How come?"

He shifted in his seat, making his biceps flex under the short sleeves of his t-shirt.

"I'm going to be deployed soon, so I just thought I might enjoy my last couple of days until work. It's nothing, really." he added, seeing the way your expression softened.

"I can't believe you just told me all that-"

"Well-"

"And I don't even know your name!"

This made him grin, before lifting off his dog tag and sliding it across the table.

You caught it clumsily, eyeing the writing.

"Phillip?"

"Mhm, now what am I supposed to call you?"

You let out a fake gasp, "Did you ever bother to read my name tag? Or were you too busy looking at my tits?"

He shrugged, definitely the second option.

"I don't have to tell you, do I?"

Before he could reply, you leaned over the table and pushed out your chest slightly, your badge shining from the dimmed rays of the sun.

Graves blinked, his eyes widening and now reading the name.

"Y/n. That was a.. forward way to ask for my number.", he now fished in his pocket, bringing out a beaten phone with a car as the background.

You snorted, still practically laying on the table to meet him, "Alright, hand it over. Maybe this will help you when you're lonely at work."

Now tapping in your number, you turned the phone over in your hand. "How come it's so broken? I thought you guys get paid."

"Of course we do, but all of that goes to my other stuff.."

".. Like?"

"I don't know, my car, food, er... My car?", he mumbled hesitantly, now listing things under his breath.

You couldn't help but laugh, "That's nice, at least you're not engrossed in your phone."

"Darling, I only have that thing to call people, I don't need it for anything else."

You weren't focusing on his voice, just now seeing the scar on his cheekbone.

"Mhm.."

He caught your lingering stare, "I'd love to tell you the story, but I think you're too special for the tactics I use on all the other women who flock to me."

You grinned, sliding his phone back at him to which he clumsily caught, "You're the one who came to me."

"Sure, darling, have it your way.", he seemed to relax in his seat, gaze still fixated onto you.

After a small amount of silence, you cocked a brow, "What?"

"hm?"

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No, no.. I was just thinking about something.."

"What is it?"

He let out an amused huff, "Why should I tell you?"

"Because I'm bored."

"Alright.", he put his glasses back on his face, "How about we go for a ride?"

What?

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, you're bored and I've already paid my bill so we're off the hook-"

"But-"

"Don't fret, doll. I'll buy you dinner too, okay?"

That definitely shut you up.

#phillip graves #cod mw2 #fanfiction #cod mwii #cod mw2 fanfic #phillip graves x reader #call of duty

[celtic-crossbow]

I Love You More Than I Can Ever Scream

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Carol Peletier

Setting: Commonwealth (post France)

Warnings: Typical TWD Violence and Gore

Summary: “When you separate an entwined particle and you move both parts away from the other, even at opposite ends of the universe, if you alter or affect one, the other will be identically altered or affected.” - Only Lovers Left Alive

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Once he got his legs to function from being so long on the sea, he knew exactly where he was headed. The first stop on the long road to home. He would have time to formulate some sort of plan; plenty of time. When they had taken him, it’d been by vehicle. The walk would take much much longer. His body still ached even with the several days he’d been on the boat. The cabin had been small, too small to contain his nervous energy. With all he’d been through, it was only natural to assume something else would stand in his way. 

It wasn’t until he reached the setup of the walker round-up that he allowed a flicker of hope. He had gone over the plan again and again, scrutinizing every last detail. Execution had to be flawless. He would only get one shot. It took three hours, fist fights, and a decent laceration over his bicep but finally, he stood over the last surviving advisory with his finger on the trigger of his newly recovered crossbow. 

“What do you even want?” The man on the ground spat blood at the boots in front of him. “You killed everyone here and for what? For what?!”

He tried his best to impede the exhaustion on his bloody face. “My bike.”

The last bolt fired. His bike loaded into the back of the truck he had selected for most of the expedition home. And every barrel of fuel he could manage to load before his muscles felt like noodles. He covered everything with a tarp and tied it down, exhaustion seeping into his very bones by the time he was seated behind the wheel. He knew he should rest; should close his eyes and let his worn body regain some strength. 

He was just too damn anxious to put miles between him and the corpses of the men that had kept him away so long. His mind made up, he cranked the engine to life. 

“M’on my way.”

Daryl Dixon was going home. 

Carol sat in the armchair that adorned the corner of her bedroom. The early morning light filtered into the room with a gloomy gray hue, illuminating her packed bag on the foot of her bed. Downstairs, a car waited, packed with all the food and medical supplies that could be spared. 

In just a few short hours, she would head out to find him. 

She had been so thrilled to hear his voice on the radio that day; to know he was alive. He was fine. He was coming home. A week, he had promised. A vow made nearly two months ago. Daryl didn’t make promises without the intention of keeping them. It was one of the cruelest things a person could do in the world in which they lived. She had given him a grace period. Travel was unpredictable nowadays, and that fact demanded to be considered. 

There had been signs of him everywhere. The colorful poncho for sale at the clothing store on the corner of Main St. The gorgeous dog that had bounded up to Carol for pets, only for her name — Pookie — to be called from somewhere in the crowd. The woman reading Don’t Eat Me, Chupacabra to the children in the library. But the one that got to her, chilled her to the bone, and had her calling on Maggie in the middle of the night to take Judith and RJ, had been his voice in the darkness of her room. He had called her name, his usually quiet, rough drawl was a shrill and desperate cry. She woke with a start, finding herself sweat drenched and alone, her only company being Dog on the rug. 

Something was wrong. Something was keeping him away. 

By the time the sun was offering its first true warmth of the day, Carol was saying her goodbyes. Judith and RJ were upset. Of course they were. Yet another person was leaving them behind. Still, they understood. 

“You’ll bring Uncle Daryl back?” RJ pressed as he hugged her, his voice small yet hopeful. 

“I’m gonna try my best.” She wouldn’t promise. Daryl had promised, and she was still there waiting with her lonely heart and too many unspoken words. She hugged the boy a second time, both of them sniffling. With gentle pressure against his back, Carol guided him toward Maggie and reached for Judith. The girl stepped into her arms, holding tightly to her waist. 

“You’ll both be back. I know you will.”

Carol looked to the sky, her arms still holding tightly to the child in front of her. Rick, then Michonne, and finally Daryl, along with others who had no say in their departure; they had all left. Now, she would join that list. Judith pulled back first, her smile belied by the tears weighing on her lashes. The silver-haired woman presented a smile, tight and painful, and she realized as she stepped back toward the open car door that it was the same smile she offered Daryl after he hugged her goodbye. 

She cleared her throat to attempt and rid herself of the lump that had formed before nodding at Maggie. Her foot lifted to the floorboard of the old Mustang, her hip angled to sit down when the gate guards called that someone was approaching. It wasn’t their shouts that bid her freeze. 

It was the distant rumbling of an engine. 

A motorcycle. 

A look was shared with Maggie, the younger woman keeping the children back to save them any further pain if what both women were thinking turned out to be a naive fruitless hope. Carol, however, was sprinting toward the looming entrance, the wooden gate moving too slowly for her thundering heart. When she stopped, there was still so much distance but she feared the walk back to the car and the pain and disappointment that would accompany it. 

It wasn’t until she could plainly see with her own eyes that she allowed the hope in her chest to expand. Her feet were frozen, rooted into the ground. Even as he passed through and let the motorcycle tip over as he jumped off it, clumsily and hurried. He was moving toward her, running, but she couldn’t budge. When they collided, she understood she had been moving. She had run to him just as he had to her. 

“Are you—” She pulled back, hands on his shoulders, in his hair, on his face. 

“M’here.” Daryl’s voice was gravelly, tired. He looked exhausted. His lips cracked, his skin dry. 

“Oh my god.” Carol pulled him into her again, her smile watery while his shoulders shook. “Are you okay? Where have you been? What happened?”

He chuckled against her shoulder. “Which’a ’em ya want me ta answer first?” She smacked her palm against his shoulder blade, laughing when he lifted her against him in a tight embrace that reminded her of the time after Terminus. When her feet met the ground, she pulled back again, barely able to see his face before his palm was on her cheek and his thumb was swiping away the moisture under her eye. “M’okay.”

Carol nodded. “The kids. The kids will want to see you.” She took his hand and pulled it away from her face, but closed her fingers around his. When she pulled to lead him, he stood firm. 

“Carol.”

Her brow creased when she saw the look on his face; distraught and drained. “Daryl, are you really okay?” He nodded. 

“Jus’… I jus’… while I’s gone, I—” His hand trembled in hers. 

“Daryl, we don’t have to talk now. If you just want to go home—”

“Nah. No, s’been long ‘nough.”

She stepped back to him, close enough to see the fine tremors of his frame. “What has? Daryl, what happened? What are—”

“Never should’a left. Should’a been here.”

“Daryl, you’re exhausted. Let’s get you—” She tried to guide him again, this time away from everyone. She could tell them he was back while he rested; promise they could see him later. 

“No.” He whispered. “No, goddamnit!” Daryl snatched his hand away but only to bring her back to him by her shoulders, hugging her tighter. “Ain’t no good at— what I said ‘fore I left. When I said I loved ya—”

“I remember.” Carol rubbed his back soothingly, remaining in his arms. If it helped him, kept him grounded, she’d likely stay there forever. 

“I meant it.” 

“I know you did, Daryl.” She uttered quietly, confused and worried by his behavior. 

“No, ya don’ get it.” When he pushed her back, he didn’t allow her to go far, ducking his head slightly to bring them eye to eye. “I meant it, Carol.” He never looked away, those deep, deep orbs pleading with her to understand. “I meant it.” He repeated, his voice cracking. 

It clicked. 

“You… meant it meant it?”

He dipped his chin, expression shifting to hopeful. “Ya don’ hafta love me like that. I promised myself if I could get back ta ya… promised myself I’d tell ya. But ya don’—”

“I’ve loved you for so long, Daryl. So, so long.”

“Ya have?” 

She nodded with a gentle chuckle. “I’m so glad you’re back. Seems like we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah.” He already appeared to be more at ease. No less tired. 

“Let’s get you home.” He was letting her lead him now, walking slowly but steadily. “Do you need anything?”

“Jus’ you n’ ta be much less vertical.” 

Carol led him a different way to the home they had shared before he had left, stopping to ask a young woman to let Maggie know Daryl was back and she would bring him for the kids after he slept.

He climbed the porch steps slowly, boots dragging. She was already holding the door open and waiting before he’d made it to the top. Once he was inside and the door was closed, she turned to speak and his mouth was on hers, moving with urgency and desperation. His lips were dry from dehydration, but there was a give to them that hinted toward a softness lingering below the cracked tissue. Carol wasn’t sure if she breathed the entire time they were connected, the fireworks in her head and the rush of her blood making even involuntary processes likely impaired. When they separated, he drew her back against him. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” She pulled away and took his hand again. 

“Ya gon’ get the kids while ‘m sleepin’?” He yawned. 

“Nope. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” She opened the door to her own room and stood against it. “Go on.” Daryl smirked. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ugh. Don’t call me ma’am, Pookie.” He was already taking off his coat when he fixed her with a look and caused her to laugh, the door closing with a simple shove. “I sleep on the right.”

Taglist:

@deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @loganlostitall @callmeyn @gutsby @icu-caryl @bananafire11 @hutchersonsgurl @brinteylovesaliens @bultamer @ramdomhoe @pandarooooo-blog @stxphenzz @sshewonders @dilfsandmartinis @k-urbanfangirl @clairealeehelsing

#murda writes #daryl dixon #carol peletier #caryl #carylers #the walking dead caryl #caryl is coming #caryl is endgame #caryl fanfiction #caryl fandom #twd caryl #caryl positivity #daryl dixon x carol peletier #carol peletier x daryl dixon #carol x daryl #daryl x carol #daryl loves carol #carol loves daryl #darylneedscarol #carolneedsdaryl #Spotify

[torreshalstead]

holy ground - part 2

Summary - Her fingers twitched, brushing against soft warm skin. But it wasn’t her own.

Hailey’s eyes fluttered open, taking in the sleeping figure beside her. He was still there.

It hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. It hadn’t been a dream that she had conjured up in her subconscious. It had been real.

And he had stayed.

Chapters - 2/2

Notes - I couldn’t resist adding a little of Jay’s POV to this so please enjoy! AO3 Link

Jay was dozing in and out of consciousness, a pleasant dreamless sleep filling his mind when felt something twitch against his skin, fingers warm against his bare shoulder. Hailey.

Hailey was here, with him, in her bed. His hand was curved protectively around her hip, confirming her presence and her hand was resting on his shoulder.

It had been real.

Her confession. Their kiss. Their night together. All of it had been real.

He had known for a long time that he wanted to cross that line and take the next step with her, and for a brief moment he had thought she wanted it too when he had gotten shot. But then she had clammed up, changed the topic and walked away from him with tears in her eyes - he had thought she had changed her mind. Decided it wasn’t worth it.

That he wasn’t worth it.

And then she had told him she’d had an offer for a job in New York. He wasn’t surprised the Feds wanted to keep her. He wanted to keep her. And he had said ‘cool’. That’s a perfectly rational response when the girl you are mad for who only sees you as a friend says she might be leaving the state, isn’t it?

But then at the bar, she had said she didn’t want to take it. Didn’t want to take it because of him.

He had wanted to say something, say anything as she spoke but it was his turn to clam up and watch as once again her blue eyes brimmed with tears. But there was a spark in them this time, a glimmer of hope, of possibility. So when she finally said the words, he hadn’t even thought about it, just pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

He’d waited far too long to kiss her and the fact they were in the middle of a bar, well he didn’t care.

He felt like a hormone fueled teenager again, pushing her up against his truck and sealing his lips to hers and finally feeling what it was like to run his fingers through her hair. He should have been embarrassed about how many times he had dreamt about that very moment but when he felt her mouth open under his and her fingers slide under his shirt, holding him to her, he realised that he might not have been the only one dreaming about it.

He was finally kissing Hailey Upton. And she was kissing him back.

He knew they should probably talk about it, about what this meant for them and their partnership but there was a tiny part of him that worried if they did, she would pull back. Pull back from him. Put the brakes on and slide it into park.

And he didn’t want that.

He wanted all of it.

He wanted her and he wanted the job.

He wanted her as a partner, by his side at home and on the streets.

His partner on the job and his partner in life.

He needed her.

But as he felt her slide a little closer, her hand across his chest and her head now resting on his shoulder, he knew if she ever didn’t want that, didn’t want him - he would let her go.

He wasn’t sure he would survive it. But he’d do it.

He’d do anything she asked of him.

But as he lay there, he prayed to a God he didn’t really believe in that she never would.

He knew she loved her job, hell she was probably the best cop he had ever met and he was proud of the cop he had become by working alongside her day after day. But he also knew how hard she had worked to get to where she was now, and the battles she had had to fight to be taken seriously.

And he just hoped that when she woke up, she decided that they were a battle worth fighting as well.

Screw Voight’s rule about no in house dating. Jay knew they were both professional enough to be able to keep their heads on calls and keep their private life private and out of the bullpen. It was worth it.

They were worth it.

She was worth it.

He had been worried that at some point in the night she would wake up and realise it was a mistake, that he was a mistake and try to pretend nothing had happened between them. And he would have gone along with it and waited until she was ready. He would wait forever if it meant one day he finally got to call Hailey Upton his.

He felt her soft lips press against his shoulder and suddenly all of the worry that she might not want him enough to stay, vanished. He remembered how those lips felt as they had explored his skin a few hours before and he never wanted to feel anybody else's lips on him ever again.

He was ruined for her, completely head over heels gone for her.

And the fact that instead of pulling away from him this morning, she was pulling herself closer, it brought him immeasurable amounts of joy.

As much as he loved being her pillow, he wanted her to know he was also awake before the alarm woke them from their blissful bubble. He brought his other hand up, the one not resting on her hip, and threaded his fingers through hers. He dropped a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger against her hairline not wanting to pull away.

‘Good morning,’ he whispered. His voice was still thick with sleep but he couldn’t help but smile at the possibility that this was the start of numerous good mornings with Hailey.

He knew it might not be easy, knew not only had his own heart been damaged in the past but that Hailey kept her own guarded for many a reason. They both had their own scars, physical and mental, their own battles they fought inside themselves. But right now, it didn’t matter, their pasts didn’t matter. The fact they were partners on the job didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they were together. Their whole future was lying in front of them. Their future.

At this precise moment in time, Jay thought he could take on the entire world, so long as Hailey was beside him and they tackled it, together.

#upstead #hailey upton #jay halstead #chicago pd #upstead fic #one chicago #upstead fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #upstead fanfic #chicago pd fanfic #hailey x jay #chicago pd fic

[defaulttwig]

Joy Ride

Anakin Skywalker x f!reader

Summary: Two padawans have a brilliant idea to go for a joy ride late one night.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Rat tail Anakin, my love.

Day had turned to dusk. Where the streets of Coruscant had only begun to teem with life, the exact opposite could be said for the Jedi Temple.

The halls were without life. At night, all the buzz had gone to rest. All except for two padawans. Anakin Skywalker and you were on a mission. A reckless, adrenaline-fueled mission to go to the hangar. This had to be the most daring act the two of you pulled and your hearts raced, hoping it would work. Hence, you two creeping down the halls with featherlight footfalls, careful not to wake anyone.

The hangar was in sight. Just down the hall. So far, you made it without a hitch. Beneficial to you both, but it seemed too good to be true.

“Wait.” You grabbed Anakin’s wrist.

He stopped promptly, looking at you over his shoulder. A small part of him wondered what you were thinking. Another part of him was preoccupied. His eyes darted down to your lithe fingers curled around his wrist. He tore his gaze from your hand, locking eyes and mimicking your whisper.

“What?”

“Hold on.” You crept past him, peering into the hangar. Your eyes swept over the place. As you thought, nobody was around. The anxiety of getting caught lifted from your shoulders, but you could never be too sure. You looked back to Anakin, unable to fight the smile that blossomed. “Coast is clear.”

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

Tiptoeing down the hangar, you followed Anakin closely. Dim lights lined against the lower walls of the hangar, keeping your shadows from following through the entrance. He eyed every ship he passed, analyzing them for faults you couldn’t find. While you took your time to glance at all the ships, you could not discern what qualified as good for Anakin. This was his expertise.

He gestured in front of him. “Up ahead. Three to the left.”

The two of you ended up in front of a ship that looked just like all the others. Still, Anakin decidedly was more comfortable with this one than the others. You looked at each other and nodded. This was the one.

Anakin helped you onto the wing first. He got on one knee and cupped his hands as a footstool for you. Laying one hand on his shoulder, you readied yourself before he thrust you up and you scrambled onto the wing. Helping him up, you lowered your hand and pulled him up. It was a struggle on your end until he managed to get a grip on the wing and pulled himself up by then.

The two of you caught your breath. Your added weight did nothing to the ship’s wing, thankfully. Carefully, you opened the canopy, only to stare at the pilot’s seat. There was no way the two of you would fit in there.

“What do we do?”

Anakin scrunched his face, honest in his answer. “I didn’t think this far ahead.”

You mulled it over, doing the mental math. Calculating the sizes of you and Anakin in the confines of the seat. It would be a tight squeeze, but it could work. Lifting one foot, you climbed in.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asked.

You nestled against the seat, scooting as far back as you could. Spreading your legs until they touched the walls, you gestured to the small space in front of you. There was still some room between you and the controls. “Hop in.”

He furrowed his brows, very focused on the seating arrangement. “That won’t work.”

“We haven’t tried.”

“I’ll crush you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, just climb in and we’ll see.”

Anakin regarded you with a look. As much as the two of you looked forward to this, he did not anticipate being in such close proximity to you. On the one hand, this probably violated some rule of safety. On the other hand, he would be close - like, really close - to you for an indiscernible amount of time.

He climbed in after you with a cautious hastiness. Once he got his first leg in, he realized just how awkward climbing in would be. You sat patiently, not sure yourself how this would go. When he turned to bring in his second leg, his butt got dangerously close to your face. You turned your head and focused elsewhere, a light giggle on your lips.

Anakin mentally prayed to anyone who would listen that this worked. He bent his knees, and hovered right over the controls before he lowered himself. Not wanting to make this worse on you, he sat directly in front of you rather than on your lap. He was pretty sure his head would catch on the canopy if he did sit on your lap.

You kept your hands by your shoulders, waiting for him to situate himself before you’d do something about the discomfort in your arms. Anakin’s knees pressed against the controls. He spread his legs to the best of his ability, scooting back onto you. His elbows banged against the walls, then your stomach. Anakin made sure to keep his elbows in front of him at that point.

You peered over his shoulder, resting your chin on him. Taking in your position with a hum, you smiled. “See, we fit.”

“Barely,” he muttered. At least, he could handle this.

No, he spoke too soon. You found what to do with your arms, slinking them around his waist and loosely hugging him. He stiffened, stomach in a knot. Maker, his heart could be heard from across the temple.

Your breath fanned against his ear. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” He tried hard to maintain his composure. After all, sneaking out of the temple for a joy ride was his idea. He couldn’t afford to appear lame in front of you. Even if you were touching him and it short-circuited his brain.

“I’m going to lower the canopy now,” he announced. While he did it as a warning, it felt redundant with the constant of your hands touching his sides. He took a breath to calm himself before he pressed the button.

The canopy smoothed over your heads with a hiss. It clicked into place, securing you inside the cockpit. Your heart thrummed while Anakin flicked some switches and pressed buttons to start up the ship. The two of you jerked in the seat as it eased forward.

He pulled it out of its station, turning it before the hangar doors. The very doors that were closed.

“Um.” You realized how little the two of you thought this plan through. “Is there a button here to open that?”

“That’d be convenient if there was.”

The two of you understood what you had to do. Anakin took one hand off the yoke and you set yours beside his. Together, you both focused on the force, using it to part the doors. Only an inch of light bled through.

“Keep holding it.” Anakin slowly set the ship forward.

You broke concentration long enough to question his thinking before you refocused. If he barreled this into the doors, you were both done for. Your masters would never let you live it down, you especially. You already had a bad track record of crashing ships.

That was all the motivation you needed to join Anakin’s force signature. The two of you entwined in your minds, separating the doors slowly. They screeched, the heavy metal dragging along the ground. Your minds broke apart, each focused on one door. Anakin pushed the ship forward and it increased its pace.

Your eyes widened at the fast-approaching door. In a split second, you called all your wit and energy to force your door aside. Anakin managed to push his as well, the ship barely missed hitting its wings against the doors before you were out. He laughed to himself, proud and in disbelief. Neither of you thought that’d work.

You hugged him once more, smiling widely.

“Now, where were we?” Confidence coursed through his veins. The hard part was done with, he was now in his element.

Pulling on the yoke, he increased speed and lifted off into the skies of Coruscant.

+:+:+:+:+:+:+:+:+:+:+

Perhaps you made a mistake earlier in the day. For teasing Anakin’s piloting skills. He started it by making remarks about your less-than-exemplary skills and the number of ships you’ve left in disrepair before your master decided you should leave the flying to more experienced pilots. The whole reason he came up with the idea of this joy ride was to prove he was a good pilot.

Not to forget the part of him that wanted to impress you.

And what better way to impress a pretty girl this close than to make risky plays. The cocky side of Anakin thought it was a perfect idea.

“Anakin!” You squeezed him impossibly tighter.

He dodged an oncoming speeder. Flying low in the high speeds of traffic, going faster than he ought to, he let out a laugh. Never mind the fact he could not breathe from your crushing hug, your own adrenaline-fueled giggles rang like music to his ears. His heart raced, hellbent to push his luck to the limits.

You called his name again, fingers digging into his sides. He weaved in and out of traffic, picking up speed. His mind split between feeling your heart hammer against his back and focusing on keeping the two of you intact. You, on the other hand, worried if this ship, built for space travel, belonged in traffic like this.

Anakin became distracted by how your hug pulled him into you. He smiled and that second of distraction was enough to put you both in danger. Your nails dug into his sides, drawing him back to the present as you cried out.

His eyes widened. The bright red brake lights of the speeder ahead grew as the ship zoomed straight toward it. You called his name in fright just as he pulled the yoke to a hard right. The ship pulled out of traffic and directly toward a building.

He cursed under his breath and pulled back, bringing the ship up. Timing it with a swift turn, he narrowly kept from nicking the right wing against the building. Your nails, like claws, retracted from his sides and you let out a deep breath, tickling his ear.

Anakin chuckled to himself, just as much on-edge as you. “Why don’t we fly somewhere with a little less traffic?”

You put all your weight on him, shoulders slacking. “Please.”

Hearts still racing, he set the ship on course out of the atmosphere. You laid your cheek on his shoulder, watching the lights of Coruscant blur into one another. Just how many times would he smile to himself, Anakin wondered, convinced he could stay in the confines of this cockpit with you forever if you kept acting like this. He could not see the lights reflecting in your eyes, but he was certain you were a more magnificent view than what you saw of Coruscant.

“Much better,” you said once you breached the stratosphere. Anakin continued away from the planet and you turned to set your chin on his shoulder once more. “Not that I doubted your piloting skills, but I think I prefer the open space.”

Without the threat of crashing into speeders or buildings and putting your lives in danger, you allowed your mind to dance around your current situation. You’d been too preoccupied to realize just how close you were to Anakin, attached to his back like a second skin. He smelled a bit sweaty, you probably did too. The thrill he sought after left you both hot from the stress. You hoped you weren’t an uncomfortable heater the way you were glued to his back. Just for that, you loosened your hold, peeling away some to create a bit of distance. Even if it was by a hair.

He appreciated the gesture. The bit of sweat that beaded down his neck made him cringe. He hoped you didn’t mind - or better, notice at all - and that he didn’t just trap you with him for another hour of this.

“Yeah, same here.”

Silence washed over you - a comfortable silence. You glanced up at the stars. Maybe it was the situation you found yourself in, the close proximity to Anakin, but you found a new fondness for the twinkling spheres. Here you two were, confined in a small ship, surrounded by the vastness of space. You hadn’t thought of it before, but being alone with him here was something you would want forever. No matter how small you felt in all this openness, you had Anakin.

You could not help but find this romantic.

“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet for a while now.” Anakin leaned forward to the best of his ability. “You’re not cramped, are you?”

“I’m fine.” You wanted him closer.

“Ready to head back?” Your silence started to worry him. He hoped he didn’t mess up somehow or that you smelled his body odor and were disgusted.

“Not yet.” Emboldened by the moment, you pressed yourself against him again, breath tickling his ear. “Just a little longer.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Okay.”

He turned the ship, orbiting it around the planet. Your gaze fell from the stars to the luminescence of Coruscant. It teemed with life. You leaned closer to Anakin, thinking about Coruscant, about the people. Maybe, one day, you could find yourself walking the streets of Coruscant hand-in-hand with him.

Such thoughts took over your mind. Head turning, your lips hovered beside his ear. You leaned forward, closing your eyes. Such fantasy led you to act on impulse. I like Anakin, you thought fleetingly while pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Your bubble burst right after. Anakin tensed under your weight and you realized what you had just done. What were you thinking? He might not feel the same. You made this awkward. The code. You weren’t thinking. How could you do this to him, trapping him here with your feelings?

Your voice grew small, timid when you spoke. “Sorry.”

Anakin was just as slow to answer. His mind reeled at the fact that you kissed him - his cheek, whatever. All he could process was that you kissed him. He grew equally as shy, thanking the stars he wasn’t facing you. His face, hot with embarrassment, held a shaky smile. Under his tunic, his heart raced a mile a minute.

Oh, right. He had to answer. Your guilt wrapped around him through the Force. He needed to alleviate that. To let you know that it was okay. He felt the same way. He just could not believe you had feelings for him.

“Don’t be…” Words simply would not form. His mouth went numb, too high on the warmth of your lips on his cheek. “I liked it.”

“Oh.” Your energy slowly came back to you. “You did?”

He shrunk into himself, shoulders to his ears. You could see how red the tips of his ears turned. “Yeah.”

You hugged him closer, then. A bright smile fought its way onto your face. You had to test this. Push your luck once more. So, you did, leaning over his hunched shoulders to kiss his cheek again.

Anakin deflated, all warm and fuzzy inside and out. He relaxed, more at ease. Words did not need to be said. Probably for the best that they weren’t, the two of you thought of the code. If you didn’t say it aloud, you could live in the comfort of knowing how you felt. Being that you both harbored feelings for one another. And neither of you considered it a sin if you didn’t say the words out loud. If you said nothing, then you did nothing wrong.

Anakin leaned into your hold as you hugged him closer. The two of you grew content with the quiet once more. You found the whole ordeal romantic. As barren as your idea of romance was, this was the most memorable and romantic memory you created, you thought.

It was after a long while of orbiting the planet did you two realize just how long you’ve been out.

“The sun’s rising.” Anakin cursed under his breath.

Just over the horizon of Coruscant, the sun made itself known. No doubt, the temple would come to life with all the Jedi. And they’d be suspicious to find a ship missing from the hangar.

“My master wakes early,” you muttered, a twinge of fear in your voice. If she found out you were gone, you snuck out and borrowed a ship…

“Master Obi-Wan is famous for his early start.” Anakin grew just as worried as you.

He turned the ship around, bringing it back into Coruscant’s atmosphere. You were both pressed for time. Wanting more of this, you couldn’t afford to get caught. Who knows if you’d ever get the chance for a moment like this again.

The hangar doors remained parted as you left them. Anakin slowed the ship in its descent as he neared, narrowly missing the doors. It slowed to a stop, the wheels out as he prepared to bring it to its station. Giddy at the success of the endeavor, the two of you shared a small laugh and you squeezed his sides in comfort.

Your relief to find the hangar quiet had not lasted long. Through the canopy, you two spotted your masters at the entrance.

“We’re dead,” you muttered.

Anakin couldn’t help but agree, cursing under his breath.

Once the canopy detached from the ship, you pulled yourself away from Anakin. He climbed out first as you spared a look at your masters. Obi-Wan had his hands on his hips and your master had her arms crossed. Neither looked happy.

Anakin hopped off the wing first. He waited while you climbed out of the cockpit. You glanced one more time in the direction of your disapproving masters, before turning to Anakin. He raised his arms, catching your sides when you hopped down. Despite what awaited you, butterflies fluttered in your stomach from his touch. You muttered your thanks to him. The two of you were attached a second longer than appropriate before he dropped his hands to his sides and you both walked to your masters.

“What were you thinking?” Your master spoke first once you stopped a few feet away. Her frown made you feel small as you looked down. If anything, it made you sidestep closer to Anakin, his hand ghosting over yours behind your backs.

“You two snuck out and stole a ship for - what - a joy ride?” Obi-Wan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That was reckless of you. What’s more, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“Sorry,” you and Anakin chimed at the same time. His fingers clasped over yours and you both squeezed in reassurance.

“This cannot go without punishment,” Obi-Wan said.

“Starting today, your chores will be doubled.” Your master set her hands on her hips.

“What?” Neither of you liked your chores. Then again, this was a far better punishment than what either of you feared. You let your hands drop to your sides.

“This is final.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “You’re lucky it’s only chores.”

“We’re luckier it was Anakin piloting the ship.” Your master quipped, a small smile on her face. It dropped as quickly as it came. “The two of you shouldn’t have been in that together. You know it’s dangerous and unsafe to fly like that. There’s a reason it’s meant to hold one pilot.”

“Yes, master,” you both chimed.

“At least, you returned safely. And that’s all that matters.” Obi-Wan stepped aside from your master, leaving an opening between them. “Now, head on through. You both have a long day ahead of you.”

Anakin and you filed between them, glancing at each other as you walked off. This could have gone worse.

“Eat your fill. Training will be especially demanding today.” Your master had the last say.

You both hung your heads, low groans escaping you.

Without a proper night’s rest, neither of you would last the whole day.

That ought to teach you for sneaking out.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fluff

[taleasnewastime]

Can i request a grocery store shopping Drabble? Plsss💜 love your work

Of course!! Hope you enjoy :)

Word count: 615

Warning: None I can think of

“Zac, you need to stop putting anything you want in the trolly.”

Big, wide, innocent eyes look up from you. You try not to give into it, he’s not even spoken to defend himself and yet you can already feel yourself slipping. You’d literally give that little boy anything he asked for, but a bag of 24 crisps, a 2 litre bottle of coke, chocolate and biscuits is really too much.

“I didn’t –”

“You can pick one and then you need to put the rest back,” you cut him off.

His eyes go to the trolly, roaming the things sat on top as if weighing the options. When he looks back up at you, he still looks innocent, if a little confused.

“You told me not to put anything in,” he says. “I didn’t.”

You hum, considering how to deal with this. “Well mummy didn’t put them in either. So we’re going to have to put it all back.”

Zac nods and if it all makes sense. His eyes go back to the items sitting on top the trolly again.

“Can you give mummy a hand doing that?”

He nods like he’s never been given a bigger honour. Your heart squeezes. He’s always been a great kid, as if knowing you’re a single mum having to juggle so much, he’s always been amazing at helping you out, getting on with things on his own. Since Jungkook came into your life it’s not changed, if anything, since you found out you were pregnant and explained it to Zac, he’s only become more helpful. Sure, he still has tantrums, he’s still a child but whether subconsciously it’s as if he’s trying to make your life easier. He’s only young but he still understands so much about the world.

“What shall we keep then?” You ask. “The biscuits might be nice with your milk before bed?”

He shakes his head, no.

“Ok,” you smile, taking the biscuits out. “What about the crisps with your lunches?”

Another shake of his head. You can almost see the clogs turning in his head trying to work out the best answer. Finally he looks up at you, eyes alight with an idea.

“Chocolate?” He asks, his tone unsure as if you might disagree. “For in front of films?”

You beam and before you reply you can see is worry seep away. “That’s a great idea. Chocolate it is.”

He nods then holds hands out to take the items you’re holding. You laugh as you give him just the biscuits, not wanting to overload him.

“You put these back and I’ll wait right here, ok?”

He nods, taking in every word. You watch as he walks off down the aisle, you know the biscuits are only at the end so can watch him the whole time.

“Where’s Zac off to?” You hear Jungkook adding some bits to the trolly.

You glance over your shoulder as you start to say, “putting back some things he –” but cut yourself off when you see what he’s added.

“It was you.”

Jungkook’s eyes drag to yours, their big and wide like Zac’s, but they’re definitely not innocent. Not after you just watched him put in a bag of popcorn and some donuts in the trolly. It wasn’t Zac at all.

“I just accused Zac of putting all this crap in.”

“I thought we were having a movie night?”

“That doesn’t mean we need enough sugar to fuel a village.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, though a smile toys on his lips.

Zac reappears and you sweep a hand over his head. “Thanks baby,” you say before shooting a look at Jungkook. He only laughs at you.

#jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #WIILYTM request

[vi-sinner]

Prompt 145 with Jake + hate fuck

Alsooo congrats

Part of the 100 follower's event! Requests still open!

        Patron | Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Tension breaks between you and your least favorite patron

Warnings| Smut 18+, fingering, pet names, explicit language, mentions of alcohol, kind of hate sex? more like tension breaking,  AFAB!Reader, reader is also a bartender

Main Masterlist  |  Moon Knight Masterlist |

Word Count| 2.1k (whoops not a drabble) 

A/N| Thank you for the patience on this event! Lifes just been busy and writers block came...also minecraft..a lot of minecraft 

There were only three rules you lived by in your miserable life 

Work and pay the bills

Take care of Meowy (the old orange tabby with more attitude than you) 

Mind your own damn business

The first one was easy to some point, the gruff bar you worked at paid enough to fuel a small apartment for one- plus your furry companion. The elderly tabby that you adopted was not needy at all, rarely needing attention, sense his favorite actively seemed to be sleeping 24/7. The last one? Well, you tried, ignoring patrons who would harass anyone that looked at them the wrong way wasn't particularly easy to ignore 

The slower nights were your favorite, aside from the leftover drunks still nursing their drinks and the only man at the bar- who had recently passed out, drooling on himself, the bar was empty. You occupied yourself with wiping and cleaning the glasses, occasionally checking the clock- you still had an hour and twenty-five minutes left of your shift. 

It was peaceful, the only sounds came from the light rain outside and the aftermath of the latest sports game. And sense the rest of the crowd tapped out with drinks long ago, you busy your hands with cleaning glasses. 

You groaned silently when the bells above the door jingled, signaling someone had entered. Preparing a not so friendly smile you turned to the late-night customer, only to be meet with your least favorite of all 

Jake fucking Lockley 

See you could tolerate all the other patronage hounding at you, but Jake? He was on another level. The others would be shit face drunk when they would speak, but not Jake. His bullshit was always said with a semi sober tongue. He also just never knew when to quit, but you never did ban him… yet

“I'll take my usual doll.” Ignoring the one of the many pet names he called you, you slided a beer over to him, not even bothering to opened it 

Repeating to yourself that you only had half an hour left of this shift, hoping it would encourage you to get through this stress free 

“Well don't you look lovely?” Half an hour “I like the frown, fits with the whole theme of this place.” 

Your lips pursed, holding back a comment that you didn't have. Jake always would get the last snab in, always quick to leave you speechless, flustered and annoyed all at the same time 

You brushed him off for the rest of the night, and thankfully, by the time you finished tinkering with the bottles in the back room, he was gone 

Once the clock finally hit that 2 am mark, you wasted no time in gathering your belongings, kicking out the wasted regulars, and booking it out the door 

You only just locked the door when the first crack of thunder sounded, you cursed yourself, not only for the bad luck, but also forgetting to check the weather. So, you had no umbrella, nor appropriate clothing- you would just have to suck it up and deal with getting drenched by the time you got home

It was no short walk to the station. Added, being alone in the dead of night made you hyper aware of your surroundings. The shops and businesses were closed, and the street was empty, expect for one lone car driving suspiciously slow for the lack of traffic

Your pace increased when said car started slowing down next to you- being kidnapped was not on your list of priorities. “Need a lift?” Though the fimariaty of the voice was enough to ease your worries, it certainly wasn't sparking up your mood

Of course, you needed a way home without being dripping wet head to toe, but you would prevail through it if this was your only option “No, I'm fine.” You dismissed, walking away, hoping he would just speed off at that- you should have known he would never 

“Get in, a pretty lady like yourself shouldn't be walking alone in the dead of night like this.” He insisted, “Wouldn't want to be responsible for that.” 

“Flattering, but I said I'm fine.”  Your hair was already becoming tangled and frizzy, your teeth clattered, and you were sure any electronics were certainly fucked by this point - you most certainly were not fine  

“Get in the car” 

“What don't you get I’m-”

“Get in the damn car.” His tone more demanding, he wouldn’t take no for an answer 

Sighing and rolling your eyes, you got in the car, making sure to shut the door with a little bit of force, displaying your annoyance. You would get through what should be a 20-minute ride to your home, if you couldn't suck it up and get through that, what kind of woman would you be? 

“So, where does the pretty lady live?” 

“Just dropped me off at the train station.” You grumbled  

Dramatically, he let his head drop deeper into the headrest “Woman, will you just let me do something nice for once? And not fight me on every little thing?” 

“Me?” You goggled “Who's the one who insisted I come in this car? Last I checked you invade my life, not the other way around.” 

“Well, I only go to that shitty bar just for you.” He was right, the only thing that drew him into that dirt hole was you. Hell, he barely liked drinking, at least so often. But, for you? To see the crease of your eyebrows when he would pester you to no end was worth it. He knew he was actually like a preschool kid, thinking being a nuisance would get the girl to notice him, but you made it too easy. 

You were utterly exhausted; your head was pounding, and you had no energy to keep pointless bickering. “Please, for the love of god, just take me to the train.” With an exasperated sigh, you leaned your head on the window, watching the trees merge into a blur 

Being the never-ending pest he was, he continued to aggravate “Oooo, I love when you beg.” 

Your hands flew up in annoyance “God I wonder if you ever get laid with how you run that mouth, because this.” You gestured to him as a whole. “This attitude is exactly what stirs women away.”  You can't imagine a woman ever flocking to him if this is how he always acted. Not that you would ever admit it, but he wasn't bad on the eyes, maybe just maybe if he couldn't utter a word ever again, you could find yourself actually liking him  

“Oh hermosa, I can assure you I don't stir women away. In fact, I feel like a fucking magnet sometimes.” He spoke with confidence

“Doesn't mean they walk away satisfied.” You mumbled not intending for him to hear you 

But he did hear you snab “Wanna test that out?” He said as he turned his head towards you. 

Honestly he was done with the back and forth, to him there was enough tension built up. He wanted you, and he knew damn well you wanted him too. He being the little shit he is, wanted you to be the first to break, for you to give him that go ahead, and well shit you just gave him that opening 

“What?” The shock clearly showed through in your voice. He didn't reply back, he only slowed down the car, stopping off the side of the empty road. “Uh…you're not going to kill me now are you?” You nervously chuckled. The setting of it all plus his silence made your nerves flare up. You were completely in the dark- awaiting his next moves  

“No.” As he turned to you, pupils blown out in desire, “I'm better than that.” His hand grasped the back of your neck, pulling you close enough to slam his lips onto yours. Your breaths collided in the bruising kiss. His other hand snaked around your middle, squeezing the covered skin 

You couldn't breathe nor could you mind keep up with all of his movements- your brain was utter mush and he was barely getting started 

The hand around your middle descended lower- under it reached the button of your jeans, only then is when he pulled away allowing you to take the much-needed breath. He didn't say anything. In his eyes- that stared hard into yours, he was asking if he could go further. He would stop immediately if you said so, but by God himself he hoped you would let him 

Your head softly moved into a nod, giving yourself to him, to do whatever it was he desired. He reached inside your pants, with a feather light touch, his fingers stroked your heat over your underwear. “I haven't even touched you and you're already this wet.” Your head turned away in embarrassment and only moved back when he turned your cheek back to him. “Look at me.”

When the cold brush of his fingers made it pass your underwear, you gasped. He took his time brushing up and down, avoiding where you needed him most. “Please.” You whimpered pathetically, and at your plea he inserted his fingers into you. 

He watched as you struggled to maintain eye contact. Your eyes tearing up and clouding your vision. Because as much as you hated to admit it- he was good.  His pace gradually got quicker, to the point your legs started to shake and close onto his hand- his wrist was cramping up from the awkward angle, and with your nails digging into the flesh of said wrist, he expected some pain, but no way in hell would he stop 

It wasn't long before your jaw hung in a silent scream, bursting with pleasure, so unexpectedly intense that if you were not seated you for sure would fall down. He continued to overstimulate you, until you weakly pushed him away. 

With his fingers absolutely soaked in your slick, he never gazed away as he licked it all away. You all but died at such an obscene act. 

He gave you one last quick but passionate kiss before he settled back into his seat starting the car like he didn’t just fingerbang you into oblivion.

The aftermath was filled with awkward silence- at least on your end. When your breaths evened out, you cleared your throat. “So, uh...what now?” 

“Now, I'll take you home.” His smile was devil-like, like he still had more plans up his sleeve “Plus, can't afford to get another ticket. So where do you live?”  Therefore you told him your address, not without him making a comment about how you live in the ‘nice part of town’

“So how did I do?” He asked after more beats of silence 

“Yeah, you did fine.” 

“Just fine?” He chuckled “Doll, I think I did so much more than ‘fine’.” 

“What do you wanna hear? That you blew me away? Absolutely rocked my world?” You ended your sarcastic statement with a roll of your eyes. He left it at that, letting the rest of the ride flow without conversation, your voice would be going through enough strain later

As soon as the car stopped in front of your apartment building, you quickly got out, eager to finally end the night. Yet, Jake had other plans- that involved you “What do you think you're doing?” You questioned when he got out with you. Did he really need to walk you a couple feet to the door? 

“Finishing what I started.” He winked, “Can't leave you unsatisfied.” 

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #jake lockely smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x you #x reader #x fem!reader #fanfic

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Just a Kid Next Door - Chapter 3

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here in the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 3---------------------------------

No person in their right mind would move to Gotham City willingly. After all, she is known for her rife crime and murder rates which makes her extremely unsafe and dangerous for living.

But she is also home to all the Bat and bird themed vigilantes, who swore on their life to protect her and her citizens from the moment they put on their mask and cape.

If they say Gotham city is unsafe, then Crime alley is perilous. It is the hotspot in Gotham city for all the criminal activities. It is notoriously known for Burglary, illegal shipment of drugs, human trafficking, sexual assaults and domestic abuse, which are activities of common occurrence in this part of the city.

But that doesn’t stop Jason from having hope. Having hope that one day, Crime alley will become free of crimes.

The edgy crime lord, protector of Crime alley, the big bad Red Hood is the passionate and fierce vigilante of Gotham city. Residing in Crime alley of all places in Gotham unlike the other bats and birds, he took it upon himself to be the savior of this area. Being born and raised in this part of the town in the early days of his childhood as a street rat made him extremely street-smart .It gave him even more reasons to make this part of the city and free it from the clutches of the cruel monsters.

It is no lie that Jason had a tragic past. His mother was a drug addict and his father, an abuser.

Jason has no habit of doing anything in halves, even when it came to loving his mother, who was blissfully high on drugs most of the time. But Jason’s love for her never dimmed because she was the best mother to him when she wasn’t in euphoric state.

And then his parents died. He became homeless. Even then Jason was a bright eyed kind with hope shimmering in his eyes. And then Bruce took him in as his son, making the fire of hope, blaze.

But then he was also killed by the Joker, which almost extinguished the blazing fire. And then he was resurrected, making the fire flicker again, hoping for another chance. From that moment, he’s been adding fuel to that fire, flaring and red-hot.

It was almost the cark of dawn when Red Hood was grappling his way back to his small abode. But Jason’s mind was elsewhere. His mind was still running the words Clark had said to him a while ago.

‘Batman is back. We saved him from time stream. Wonder Woman and Flash managed to bring him back to the Batcave.’

‘Batman is back’

Batman is back.

Bruce is alive.

Alive.

“Fuck fuck fuck” Jason muttered, while swinging back to his apartment.

‘Bruce is alive. The replacement was right all along. Shit, does Timmy know about this? How will I pass on the news to him? And where the fuck is he by the way?’ Jason’s thoughts were becoming restless by each passing second.

‘Bruce is alive. Shit, he is alive and breathing. Is he okay? Is he hurt? Dammit, why did I not go to the Manor?’

Jason thoughts were running a mile a minute when he finally reached his safe house. While unlocking the door to his house, he noticed his security system was down.

“What the fuck?” Jason hissed

Someone had the audacity to hack his security system and break into his house. His very strong security system. Only few people who have to skill to do that are the Bats, but no one knew where he lived. Except for –

Oh

“Oh”

Composing himself by letting out a long sigh, he entered his safehouse. Tim is one of the very few people who knew where he lived and has his way with hacking almost anything, after Oracle.

After all, Tim has been breaking into his safehouse to annoy Jason by raiding his kitchen and blabbering, for quite some time now. Jason found it annoyingly cute. Dammit, that leech of a little brother had started to grow on him.

 But now, Jason was worried. He hasn’t seen or heard from that bastard for a very long time. And now that little shit has the audacity to break into his house after worrying him by going MIA for almost six months.

Bruce’s supposed death was hard on everyone. Hell, even Jason found it hard to move on. His dad had died. Left him, left is brothers and sister, left is friends, left everyone, forever. Jason still had nightmares about it.

The last time Jason had seen Tim was the day Tim moved out of the Manor. He was trying to convince everyone that Bruce was alive, which worried Jason. He still vividly remember the conversation he had with him that night.

---

“Next time you break into my house while I’m out for patrol, you scrawny little shit, I will not hesitate to slit your throat once again for good” Jason growled, climbing into his safehouse through the living room window, while removing his helmet.

There was no reply. The apartment was pitch black and there was no sign of anyone.

“Stop hiding from me replacement, it’s of no use” Jason added.

Again, no reply.

Jason was starting to get irritated. “Quit playing games with me Timmy, I’m serious. I have no time for these nonsense.”

He then heard the sound of glass shattering in the kitchen.

“Tim, you in there. Shit, are you injured?” Jason asked, suddenly feeling concerned, while hurrying his way towards the kitchen. ‘How can he be injured?’ Jason thought, because Jason hadn’t seen him on patrol today.

The Kitchen was dark too. But Jason was able to see a slouching figure sitting in the barstool kept near the kitchen island. He wasted no time in switching on the lights.

Tim’s back was facing him, and Jason could see broken pieces of glass just below him on the wet floor.

“Sorry, it just slipped my hand. And no, I’m not injured” Tim said, his voice not more than a whisper. His brother was wearing grey sweatpants and a worn out oversized black hoodie.

“Jesus Timmy, you gave me a scare.”

“Mm-mm”

Jason had a nagging feeling that something was wrong with his little brother. First of all, Timmy hadn’t raided his kitchen for the leftover food, his back was stiff and tense even while slouching on the kitchen island and most importantly, he was silent.

His brother would have eaten his ear off by now, by talking about some random facts like how Australia is bigger than moon or how Scotland chose the Unicorn as its National animal.

Jason then came to a reasonable conclusion that his brother might be sleep deprived. Tim would give Bruce a run for his money by surpassing him when it comes to depriving himself of basic necessities like food and sleep by immersing himself in his nocturnal activities.

“When did you last sleep, replacement?”

“Uh… uh I don’t know?”

Something is definitely wrong.

Jason carefully avoided stepping on the glass shards and went to stand in front of his little brother.

Tim was facing down, finding the broken pieces of glass more interesting than answering his brother properly.

“Tim, Look at me”

After few seconds of complete silence, Tim looked at Jason.

Tim was crying. His eyes were bloodshot, his face wan and almost translucent and his lips were quivering.

“What happened, Babybird?” Shock was an understatement. Jason had never seen the boy cry, not even once, even in horrible moments. His little brother was the most logical among them all. He always relied on his wits and intelligence to solve any problem. Hence even in worst situations, Jason had only seen Tim carefully planning and executing his next move.

“Talk to me, Timmy. What happened?”

Tim started to weep, which startled Jason. He started to rub circles on his back, while consoling his crying brother.

“It’s okay, Timmy. You’re fine. Nothing is gonna happen. I’m there for you. Your brother is there for you."

After a few minutes of consolation, Jason was able to quiet down his brother’s sobs. Tim took few for minutes to stop crying.

“You know what, lemme take you to the manor. I’ll ask Alfred to make a cup of hot chocolate for ya. It is the best for breakdowns. And then we can talk. We can even pull Dickiebird along with us after he comes back from patrol”

“N-no, I can’t go to the Manor”

“What do you mean by ‘you can’t’, Tim?”

“I just- I just can’t, okay?”

“Why, what do you mean by that?”

“Because I moved out, okay. They don’t want me there anymore.” Tim said harshly.

What

“WHAT?” Jason was shocked.

Tim let out a long sigh. He was cracking his knuckles and tapping his feet on the floor board in an annoyingly fast pace.

“What do you mean by you moved out?!?. You’re like what, twelve?”

“I’m sixteen” Tim hissed.

“Yeah, almost the same damn thing” Jason said, exasperated.

“But it’s not a big deal, anyways. Cause they don’t want me there anymore”

Now Jason was confused.

“You are saying me that Goldie and Alfred let you move out of the Manor. Are you shitting me, Kid?”

Tim didn’t reply.

Jason was confused as hell.

“Okay, this is just some big misunderstanding. We will sort it out in the morning in the Manor, okay? Now come on, wash your face and put on your suit at least. We still have some time to patrol. It will help you let off some steam. After that, you could tell me about what happened in the manor, Okay?”

Tim started laughing bitterly. Now Jason was starting to get sacred due to the instant shift of his brother’s mood. ‘What the hell?’ was the only thing that Jason’s mind was able to come up with.

“What kid, did I stutter or something? Go on, put on your suit. I know you love to patrol.”

“What suit?”

“Did you hit your head somewhere, replacement? What do you wear for patrol, a three piece Armani?”

“I don’t have the suit with me, Jason”

“Okay, that’s not a problem. Because you always keep a spare one here somewhere, right? Wait here, lemme go and check” Jason said, making his way to the spare guestroom.

“I cannot wear the suit, Jason” Tim said, his voice sounding forced.

Fucking hell. This kid is going to drive him insane.

Jason turned and looked at Tim. Tim’s face was void of any emotions.

“May I ask why, replacement?” Jason asked, annoyance clear in his tone.

“I’m not Robin anymore, Damian is.”

...

…

What did he just say?

What the fuck?!?

Did he hear that right? Or did replacement totally lose it.

“Yeah no shit. I totally believe you”

But Tim’s face held a serious expression. And then Jason looked into his eyes, which held multitude of emotions.

The first emotion Jason saw was betrayal. ‘Why do Tim feel betrayed?’ he thought. Tim’s eyes held also held pain and loneliness. He then realized that his little brother was scared and lonely.

“I’m not lying, Jason” Tim said, his voice breaking. It took Jason a minute to process what he just heard. He was not able to understand anything. Why did the Gremlin become Robin when Replacement is alive and perfectly functioning. And who made Damian Robin in the first place?

“What the fuck Tim? You are Robin. Not that Gremlin. You are robin until you tragically die some way or the other. And who made him Robin anyways, cause last time I checked, Bruce was fucking six feet under” Jason said raising his voice, feeling like he is going to explode any minute.

Tim flinched, making Jason regret his choice of words.

“It was Dick.”

“What?”

“Dick chose Damian over me”

Tim sounded hopeless. Jason could pick up the boys strained breathing. He swiftly made his way towards the younger boy’s chair.

“Dick, he- he made Damian wear the Costume. He gave Robin to Damian, Jason. Just like that, he snatched it from me.  He chose him over me, Jason.” Tim sobbed, clutching the elastic of his hoodie in an iron grip while staring at Jason. Jason felt his heart break.

Yeah, everyone are in a bad place since Bruce’s death. But it still absolutely makes no sense to Jason why Dick fired Tim from Robin. Dick, out of all people, who knew that Tim struggled with a lot of issues due to his shitty childhood.

He don’t know what made Dick think that snatching Robin from him would be a better idea, given that the kid earned his place with serious determination and hard work. Unlike others, Tim took it upon himself to take the responsibility of Robin after Jason’s tragic ‘death’. And Jason would say without hesitation that Tim is the best Robin among them all. After all, the boy dedicated his whole life for Robin.

He still doesn’t fucking understand who gave Dick the idea that Tim will magically be able to ‘move on’ from the last piece of stability he had left in his life.

Tim stood up abruptly.

“You know what, I’m sorry for bothering you. You might have other important works than hearing me talk about my pathetic life. I’ll get going, Jason. I’m so sorry” Tim said, giving no time to Jason to reply.

He pulled over his hoodie and rushed to the Kitchen window and leaped, before Jason could catch him.

“Tim” the older boy called out. “Get back here this instant” he shouted, standing near the window

But his little brother did not listen. He was nowhere to be found. Not even in the alley down his apartment.

Jason sighed heavily, trying to process everything when he saw bloody footprints from the glass shards to the kitchen window from which Tim leaped.

---

Just thinking about that night made Jason sick. All the effort Dick put in strengthening his relationship with Jason went down the drain after the incident. Jason entered his safehouse carefully. He’s going to have a very long talk with his little brother now.

#tim drake is red robin #tim drake angst #hurt tim drake #tim drake needs a hug #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne is a good parent #alfred pennyworth #young justice #justice league #tim drake gets a hug

[xitty]

Thank you HappyEle and Akira, the fine event made me feel so many things. I'm looking forward to be able to read it thoroughly and think about it more. But for now:

I loved that Tori was even more adamant about the other fine members not to treat him like he's a fragile being who can't hear unpleasant things because it makes him feel like they leave him out. This isn't the first time (look at Primavera for example), but he was really upset this time. But it fueled him to show them. And I loved how he said to Wataru that he wants to be like them because loves them (fine). They've come so far from Flower Fes. <3

And Wataru, oh Wataru. I feel really sad that people turned their backs on him even on theater course. He really was alone and drifting before the War. And then, his thoughts on negative emotions... It's okay to focus on positive things but man, he's bottling them up too much. Stop with the toxic positivity! Let yourself feel them, Wataru. He also wanted to be help Tori grow and even though he ended up adding to Tori's hardship in a way he didn't mean to, it was fine in the end. And it made him face some of those negative emotions but Tori told him he'll be there to listen. Yes, Wataru, Tori and the rest of fine will support you too! I will probably have more thoughts when I read the whole thing. But just... waaah, there were quite many sad things. Wataru, I hope you'll be okay, trust your friends. <3

I also was thinking how this is a second recent event where people tell someone to be NOT like Eichi. Natsume in Altered and Tori in this story. And yeah, it's a solid advice, we don't need Natsume to repeat War or Tori being as willing to throw people under bus for the sake of efficiency (and it's good for him to realize Eichi is also just a flawed human like all of them). But how Eichi said again that he dislikes himself... that made me sad. How everyone, himself included, often focus on his mistakes etc. I know it's hard, but try to love yourself a little more, Eichi. <3

Yuzuru... He had very much a supporting role here but I hope he'll soon get a really good story. They hinted about his family a few times, maybe a story relating to that? He also provided Yuzuru funnies with being a little murderous, haha. Yuzuru is the steady presence they need. Give Yuzuru more love. <3

And all the little fun and sweet things, Wataru eating with Yuzuru and Tori, Eichi writing messages and emails like an old man, Yuzuru eating seafood flavoured ice cream, Eichi assuring Wataru there's nothing besides friendship between him and Amano, Tori and Shinobu talk... and probably more that were not mentioned yet. The first part sure made me, and many others, nervous but part two gave context and wonderful things, even if some of them were sad. Sometimes life is sad. But they have each other, they tell that to each other again and again, so guys, please remember that.

#i made myself cry several times writing this #still crying tbh #i love them so much #ensemble stars #fine #eichi tenshouin #wataru hibiki #tori himemiya #yuzuru fushimi

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer, Issue #12: The Cost of the Battle for Angel Island

Even though the battle is over, this arc still isn’t done yet. We are shown yet another amazing cover, with Metal Sonic being chained up. Despite being defeated and powerless, he still acts as a catalyst of destruction in this story.

The story starts with Sonic and Tails repairing and awakening Metal Sonic. Tails questions Sonic’s idea, but Sonic remains optimistic. Also, I know that this decision Sonic made is just as controversial as him not punishing Mr. Tinker in any way, but I will get to that.

Metal Sonic awakens and immediately goes for an attack, breaking the chains that restrained him, and immediately collapses in Sonic’s arms. Sonic remarks that, while he is compassionate, he isn’t stupid and that Metal Sonic isn’t in any shape to fight, as Tails fixed only the worst damage.

He then adds how it’s over and how Metal Sonic is now free to decide his own fate, now that Dr. Eggman is gone, and hopes for truce.

Metal just looks at Sonic, seemingly hesitant, then promptly slaps his hand away and flies off, his answer clear. Tails asks Sonic whether he’s fine, and while Sonic says he is, he does look a little hurt by Metal’s refusal for peace between the two. He then adds how he gave him a choice to live how he wants and he’ll honor that decision, with Tails noting how, since Eggman isn’t around anymore to repair and weaponize him.

Now, hear me out here. I don’t think that the point of this scene is to be fuel for readers to get angry at Sonic for his compassion and blame him for what happens later on. Far from it. There are several things to analyze here, one being the obvious consequences of Sonic’s decision, but more importantly, the way he views Metal Sonic.

We know that Sonic could just easily tell Tails to shut down Metal and be done with it. After all, Metal Sonic is just a robot, right? Except, Sonic doesn’t just see Metal as a robot, but a living being. He saw that Metal has free will and he wants to appeal to that free will by offering him to live a life without Eggman. While his compassionate side might be his weakness in this situation, it is also his greatest strength. If it worked on people such as Knuckles and Shadow, why not try it on Metal?

If you’re still complaining, that’s on you. I had a discussion with a close friend of mine on the topic and we both noted that Sonic being compassionate is in-character for him, even adding how people screaming for Sonic to kill Eggman and/or Metal Sonic is pretty much the same as the hypocrites being up in arms if Batman even dares to break his “no killing” rule, but then bitch about him not killing the Joker. You can’t have your cake and eat it, people!

As for Sonic, I said it before in a conversation and I’ll say it again - he is not a hero. *hears gasps of shock* Yeah, how dare I claim the main protagonist, who helps people and save the world isn’t a hero? Well, let me tell you one thing - Sonic himself stated that, even adding how he doesn’t mind being the bad guy at times.

My point here is that I feel that people act as if Sonic has to be some kind of paragon of good, that they’re putting Sonic on a pedestal and that he isn’t allowed to be flawed. The reason I love this iteration of Sonic is that he is flawed, he makes mistakes and he owns up to them, never betraying his own beliefs. Hell, that is also why I liked Sonic’s conversation with Scourge in Sonic!Archie (with Scourge actually becoming a good character after Ian Flynn took over). Scourge had pointed out that Sonic could easily bring ruin to the world if he wanted to, but Sonic’s own determination to stick to his beliefs is what makes him a himself. Hell, even the lyrics of his own song, It Doesn’t Matter, tell how he doesn’t care about right or wrong, he’ll follow his own morals and those dictate to protect those he cares about.

Rest assured, this will be brought up again once we get to Surge.

We then switch over to Dr. Starline at one of Eggman’s bases, talking to Rough and Tumble about not understanding how he failed to bring back Dr. Eggman, all while Mr. Tinker works happily on repairing a Motobug. We also learn that Starline freed Rough and Tumble from their prison, promising Eggman would build them weapons if they help him out. Starline figures Mr. Tinker just needs some kind of emotional trigger, with Orbot and Cubot walking in. We then have a hilariously heartwarming scene of Tinker doting on the bots, all while Orbot and Cubot are confused, with Orbot even wondering whether they want their old boss back.

Suddenly, Metal Sonic appears.

Mr. Tinker quickly runs over to Metal Sonic, checking on him (and I’m sure as hell Metal didn’t expect to see him at this base meaning that this whole meeting is pretty much a coincidence, accidentally caused by Starline; as Neo Metal had no way to find Eggman despite searching for him all over the place).

Suddenly, we see memories resurfacing, those being of Eggman praising Metal Sonic as his finest creation and then repairing him after a battle with Sonic, fussing over Sonic damaging Metal and praising him after the latter confirms he punched Sonic in the face. Honestly, it is oddly heartwarming, showing that there is some kind of father-son relationship between the two. The fact that it is Metal Sonic out of all people that triggers Eggman’s memories speaks of how close the two are.

Oh, and Eggman is baaaack!

As it turns out, he lost all of his memories of being Mr. Tinker, pretty much going back to his old ways of yelling at everyone for an answer. I agree with Cubot here, Mr. Tinker was nice while he lasted. Starline quickly introduces himself, revealing to be a deep admirer of Dr. Eggman’s craftsmanship - so a fanboy - and explains what had happened to him.

As Eggman repairs Metal Sonic, Rough and Tumble quickly introduce themselves, with Eggman’s reaction falling flat. He is not impressed by the skunk brothers, but Starline assures him they’re just minion fodder since they hate Sonic as much as Eggman does.

Starline then shows off the Warp Topaz, a gemstone he used to find Eggman,... as well as the Chaos Emeralds! Eggman (and me too) is impressed by Starline’s competence, welcoming him aboard The Eggman Empire and calling him his best lackey yet (which he isn’t wrong about; yeah, we had Snively in Archie!Sonic, but I’d pick Starline over him any time - also, I know they’re different continuities, I’m just doing some cross-comic comparison here).

We then switch over to Sonic telling Knuckles how everything on Angel Island is in-tact, with Knuckles deciding to remain on Angel Island and continue with his guardian duties now that the world is, seemingly, safe. He then casually tells Sonic how the Resistance is disbanded and to get off his island. I just love these two’s dynamic.

Sonic then informs Amy about the Resistance being disbanded, with Amy not being too happy about it. Our “hero” then abandons her to deal with Team Chaotix, who are hoping for a pay for their detective work. Stay classy, Sonic.

We then see Tangle befriending Whisper, although being a bit too forward for the latter. Still, Whisper seems to be quite happy around Tangle.

Meanwhile, Blaze informs Sonic and Silver that she’ll be going back to the Sol Dimension, with Silver adding how he’ll be staying in the present, as he feels his work still isn’t done.

Lastly, we cut to Rouge, who made herself quite comfortable on Eggman’s lawn chair, as well as spying on the Master Emerald. Apparently, some things never change.

She also informs Sonic that Shadow is already gone, never looking back. Sonic just tells her to pass him a “Thanks” message if she sees him and leaves.

Sonic meets up with Tails, who has the battleship prepared and ready to launch so they can finally return home, with Knuckles seeing them off.

Back at Eggman’s base, Starline suggest they could reconstruct the corrupted Bio-Data Metal copied from Sonic and Shadow, but Eggman axes that plan. I agree here with Eggman, as the only reason Metal’s plan could work was because of the many lucky breaks he had: the heroes searching for Eggman and being unaware of Metal being around (having only fought the Phantom Ruby copy), Angel Island remaining unguarded and Neo Metal being able to snag the Master Emerald, as well as absorbing Sonic and Shadow’s Bio-Data.

Instead of heading into another confrontation, Eggman moves forward with another plan, placing Starline in charge of keeping Sonic distracted. That is actually a fairly smart idea, as Sonic doesn’t even have the slightest clue of Starline’s existence, meaning the platypus can easily blindside the hedgehog. He then leaves Rough and Tumble with the instructions for their new weapons and moves over to his latest creation.

Welcome to the beginning of the end!

Links:

#Previous Issue

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#Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer (Masterlist)  

#Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer #sonic the hedgehog #metal sonic #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #amy rose #vector the crocodile #espio the chameleon #charmy bee #blaze the cat #silver the hedgehog #tangle the lemur #whisper the wolf #rouge the bat #shadow the hedgehog #rough and tumble #dr eggman #mr tinker #dr starline #orbot #cubot #sonic idw

[wisepainterperson]

Chapter 6 of my andromeda six drabble collection.

🖤I Need You💛

TW

blood, mentions of self harm, self harm.

The weight of the world rested heavily upon your shoulders as you mechanically finished yet another mundane task, the weariness etched into the lines of your face. The days seemed to blend together, an unending stream of monotonous routines, numbing your soul to the colors and joys that once filled your existence. But, in the depths of your heart, you clung to a distant glimmer of hope, a faint memory of your mother's tender words before you left that fateful day—words that now seemed like fragile echoes from a distant past.

Time had blurred since then, and life had taken you on a cruel journey, far from the sanctuary of your former happiness. Each step forward seemed to plunge you deeper into a void, a void left by the absence of those you once held dear. The life you once knew was shattered irreparably, leaving you adrift in an ocean of despair, with no beacon to guide you back to shore.

Your mind wandered back to those carefree days, the halcyon moments with your parents and him. The laughter resonated within your soul, the happiness a distant memory that threatened to break your heart. How swiftly it all changed, like a beautiful dream turned to a haunting nightmare. The memory of your father's joke, the last flicker of joy before the darkness descended, haunted you mercilessly.

As you stood lost in your thoughts, a sudden, booming voice jarred you back to reality, ripping you from the bittersweet reverie. You looked around, surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces, their gazes fixed upon you. And there, towering over you, stood the captain, a stern figure whose authority only seemed to emphasize the void in your heart. The weight of his disapproval added to the crushing burden you carried, as if the world itself was now your antagonist, conspiring against your very existence.

You wanted the tears to fall and to finally be able to release some of these pent-up emotions but alas, nothing. The contrast between your inner turmoil and the world's obliviousness to your pain felt like a cruel irony, isolating you even further. You longed for the comforting embrace of your loved ones, the warmth of their love to heal your wounded spirit, but they were now only memories fading with each passing day. In that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if all days would feel like this—endless cycles of suffering and emptiness.

"Are you deaf?" He began again and you could do nothing but look at him in a daze.

"What?" You ask dumbfoundedly, Captain Lynch did not appreciate this.

"What? I just asked you to move that stuff several times and you just ignored me that's what." He barks back quickly and again you are stunned to silence. His presence alone sent shivers down the spines of those under his command. As he towered over you, his eyes bore into your soul with a mix of irritation and contempt.

You wanted to muster the strength to explain yourself, to tell him that your mind was consumed by thoughts of loss and sorrow, but his hostile tone silenced you. Your silence only served to fuel his anger. His face reddened, and his nostrils flared as he leaned in closer, invading your personal space.

"I don't tolerate insubordination on my ship," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "You're here to work, not daydream." Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his words adding to the burden you already carried. His lack of empathy felt like a cold, sharp blade, cutting deeper into your wounded spirit. You yearned for a glimmer of kindness, a spark of humanity from this man who held so much power over your life, but it seemed like a futile hope.

"You know somehow you still surprise me with how far that stick is shoved up your ass Cal." One of your new crew mates had spoken up against him, as she did quite often. Ayame had apparently arrived on this ship with Calderon Lynch, obviously the were rather attuned to each other's ways.

Ayame met the captain's gaze with unwavering defiance, her eyes burning with the fire of someone who had been pushed to their limits. "I'm tired of watching you bully everyone on this ship, including this poor soul," she gestured towards you. "We're all human, with feelings and struggles, and you can't just stomp all over us like we're insignificant bugs."

He took a long deep breath in and released it while holding the bridge of his nose in aggravation, "No one's bullying you or anyone else. We have less than half an hour to hall ass off this gods' forsaken planet or we'll all be reduced to dust, and I don't think now is when we need to be distracted." he begins.

"Couldn't you have just said that." You manage to contort just loud enough that both can hear. Calderon seems less than amused but Ayme takes it and throws it at him again.

"Yeah, you don't have to be so mean about it."  Captain Lynch's face flushed an even deeper shade of red, his jaw visibly tensing. He was not used to admitting fault, let alone to someone who had recently joined the crew.

Ayame's words seemed to have struck a chord with Captain Lynch, and for a moment, you sensed a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. But that moment quickly passed, replaced by his customary stoic facade. He cleared his throat, his voice regaining its authoritative edge.

"You think you know everything, don't you?" Captain Lynch retorted, his voice laced with disdain.

Ayame stood her ground, undeterred by his attempt to belittle her. "Maybe or Maybe not, but that doesn't give you the right to treat people like garbage," she replied with a steady voice. "We're all in this together, and we should be supporting each other, not tearing each other down."

Captain rolls his eyes and walks away with a grumble, yet again you've done something to earn his disapproval. You've been on this crew for all of 3 months and you've managed to lose his shoes somewhere between the laundry and his room, burn and boil over his coffee, and break his favorite mug. Needless to say, you weren't friends by any means but that didn't mean that you didn't think about if you were. Actually, you'd thought about him in many ways, many that would more than likely looked down upon if there were to ever come to light, but you talk to no one anyway.

"Don't worry about him." Brought out of your thoughts once again, this time by a much kinder voice.

"Yeah, no, he was right. I shouldn't be so distracted." You say defeatedly, dragging yourself over to the pile of boxes that had tumbled over.

"So, your content to roll over and let him treat you like that?" She joins you in picking up the scattered objects and helps you put them back into the wooden crate.

"No, just don't feel like arguing." you say softly.

"She also likes him and doesn't want to step on his toes, you know, any more than she already has." You hear a familiar tone that you tried to avoid at all costs but here and now there was nowhere to run.

"Somehow you seem more insufferable as the days drag on." you state clearly annoyed at his teasing. You didn't spare him a glance but could hear his army boots hitting the floor as he sauntered ever closer. He comes to sit on the balls of his feet in front of you both, his arm carelessly laying over the side of the box and he eats his cookie.

"Well, I'd say t got better but then, technically, I'd be lying." Sarcasm dripped from every word that spilled from his mouth and for some reason it was always just the right thing to get under your skin. Damon was the constant irritation in the back of your mind, the fly buzzing in your ear, or the thorn from a cactus that you simply can't seem to find. He was fast, smart, and dangerous, your typical girls dream and her father's worst nightmare.

As Damon continued his teasing and sarcastic remarks, you felt your frustration growing. He had a knack for pushing your buttons, and it seemed like he took great pleasure in doing so. Ayame shot Damon a disapproving look before turning her attention back to you.

"Don't listen to him," Ayame said reassuringly, her voice softer and more empathetic than Damon's.

You appreciated Ayame's understanding, but Damon's presence was like a dark cloud that overshadowed any comfort you might find in her words. Despite your annoyance, there was something magnetic about him, and you couldn't deny the strange allure he held over you.

Damon flashed you a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Oh, don't mind me," he said, taking another bite of his cookie. "I'm just here to provide some entertainment."

"I don't need your entertainment," you replied tersely, trying to maintain your composure.

"Come on now, don't be so cold," Damon teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. "I'm just trying to brighten up your day. You look like you could use a good laugh."

His comment hit a nerve, and you felt the tears welling up again. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going to go lay down." You say standing and brushing yourself off in a crude attempt to wipe away the anger you were feeling.

"If you aren't feeling well maybe you should go see- " You assured her that you just needed to lay down and you'd be feeling much better later. As you walked closer to the loading docks doors you could hear her scold him and make him take your place in cleaning up the spilled boxes. There was very little left to do before take-off and you were sure that the rest of the crew was more than capable of handling it.

You stepped out of the loading docks and into the corridor, the weight of the recent events and the encounter with Damon still weighing heavily on your mind. Each step back to your room felt like a struggle, as if an invisible force tried to hold you back, preventing you from finding solace. The ship's corridors were usually bustling with activity, but now they seemed eerily quiet, amplifying the isolation you felt.

As you walked, the memories of happier times with your family flooded your thoughts again. You yearned to turn back the clock, to undo the irreversible events that led you to this desolate state. But life doesn't offer second chances, and you were left grappling with the unyielding reality that you were alone on this journey.

The darkness in your thoughts intensified, as if the ship itself conspired to push you further into the abyss of despair. Every flickering light seemed to mirror the fleeting hope within you, only to be swallowed by the all-encompassing darkness once more. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating you in the silence and solitude.

As you passed by the crew members going about their tasks, their laughter and camaraderie felt distant, almost alien. It was a stark reminder of the chasm between you and everyone else. They had their bonds and relationships, but you were merely a passing shadow in their lives.

You finally reached your room, a small, confined space that now felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The walls seemed to close in even tighter as you entered, and you collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The weight of your emotions pressed down on you, threatening to crush whatever hope was left in your heart.

In the solitude of your room, your mind revisited the memories that brought you pain. Each thought was a knife, piercing your heart, and you couldn't escape the relentless assault of grief and loss. The past was an unyielding captor, unwilling to release you from its grip.

As time passed, the ship's engines hummed with a low, rhythmic sound, a constant reminder of the journey forward. But as much as the ship moved physically, you felt emotionally stagnant, trapped in a cycle of despair that seemed never-ending.

The darkness outside the small window mirrored the darkness within you. Your heart longed for healing, for light to break through the gloom and show you a path forward. But in the grip of your grief, it was hard to see beyond the overwhelming emotions that engulfed you.

You know how to fix this. The voice in your head began, it liked to haunt you, to taunt you in these times. "No." You groaned out rolling over onto your side to stare blankly at the drawing from bash that were scattered among the walls.

Why not? No one will know and if it makes it go away then no harm. No harm what a laugh. Unhealthy habits die hard, that's what you'd learned to tell yourself. You'd tried the ice and salt, you'd tried drawing on your arms with markers, even snapping yourself with a rubber band but nothing really helped. Not like that use to.

Exactly, so why not one last time? Your thoughts were louder now, more confident, snider. Your body seemed to move of its own accord, plopping down into chair in front of yourself and opening the drawer to your left. That was the desk you kept your art supplies, your drawing pad, and the knife Damon had given you. "For protection," He'd said.

The sound of the lights buzzing overheard spilled over into your thoughts as you pondered the decision you were about to make, the fall from grace you were about to have. You grabbed the knife and laid it flat on the table, running your thumb over the smooth metal. You had cut your wrists before but this would be different. Different because it'd been 3 long years of sobriety you'd be looking in the face and ignoring.

The thought of all the pain you were about to put yourself through was almost enough to stop you. Your hands trembled as you held the knife, ready to make your last cut. Your breath hitched and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you.

That's it, do it. Let yourself have that relief, give yourself one last break. The voice taunted you, "It's not a break, I'll be in control." You replied out loud, your grip tightening on the handle. You began to rub it up and down the inside of your left wrist, creating a light, teasing cut. Your hands began to shake again, and your stomach churned as the blade danced across your flesh.

You were going to hurt, but you would survive. The pain was temporary, the freedom from the torment was worth every second of agony. You closed your eyes, trying to block out all thoughts and just feel. One became two, two became five, and soon your arm looked like a cutting board, but it isn't hurt and neither did your heart any longer.

A knock on your door draws you from world you'd created in your mind, suddenly reality hits you like an ocean wave. "Uh- One second!" You managed to get out in a shaky voice, suddenly feeling guilty and embarrassed about what you'd been doing. You weren't ashamed of cutting or why you did it but you were still worried about what others might think of you.

You grabbed some tissues and did your best to clean your arm, though it was already starting to bruise and looked quite bloody. You put the knife away and turned your attention to your door again. You weren't in the mood for company, but it was probably Ayame again. Hastily you wrap tissue around your arm and throw on your jacket before walking over to your door and hitting the panel to open.

If it had been Aya you would have been prepared even a little aggravated but when your eyes met the deep blues of Captain Lynch's you froze like a deer in head lights and instinctively hide your arm behind your back.

"Can I come in?" He ask in an exasperated huff of air. You're not sure why he's here, but you certainly weren't going to turn down a chance to talk to him.

"Sure," You reply as you move out of the doorway to allow him in, "what can I do for you?" You ask again, this time a little more awkwardly.

He walks in examining your room as if he were the judge of some show. "Its been brought to my attention that I've been unnecessarily cruel to you and I'm here to apologize." He says finally turning to address you.

"Ayame really laid into you didn't she." You say jokingly crossing the room and sitting in the desk chair you'd just been in, you notice the drawer still slightly ajar and shut it quickly before responding. He gives you a look as if to say,  yes you are correct while running his fingers over the leaves of the plant Ryona had given you to keep you company.

"Well, no harm no foul right." You say nonchalantly hoping he'd take that as his cue to scurry off back to his big chair that sits smack dab in the middle of the control room. "It's also been brought to my attention that you've been isolating yourself in your room more often then usual," he says, again eyeing your room with an inquisitive gaze. "And I feel like I may have added to that," he continues and sits down in the small chair in front of your desk. "I think I need to tell you something."

You aren't sure what to say or do at this point, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, you can feel the butterflies in your stomach, but you can't help but feel like this is going to end badly. You want to speak up, but you can't seem to find the words to say, you can't seem to break out of the silence you've become trapped in.

Thankfully you were both interrupted by Ayame calling Captain Lynch to the front and for the first time in what seemed like forever you took a breath. "Seems like that need you on the bridge." You say under your breath trying to avoid eye contact.

"Indeed," he says getting up from the chair and looking out the window. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being so harsh with you. I didn't know you'd lost your family or that your father was such an asshole." You cleared your throat uncomfortably and turned away without another word. Seeing as the conversation had struck its natural conclusion he took his leave.

The trip was going to be a long one, but you weren't ready to open up and be vulnerable. You knew you needed to but you didn't want to, it was a lot easier to just keep everything to yourself. But eventually the dam would break, and when it did it would be catastrophic.

As you made your way back to the small window in your room, you could hear the ship's engines begin to turn on and rumble to life and it wasn't too long after that they everyone was called to the bridge to be strapped in. On the bridge, Ayame and Captain Lynch were busy preparing for the ship's departure. Ayame was preparing the system for flight while the captain sat in his big chair, observing everything with a watchful eye. As you entered, they both acknowledged you, but you kept your distance, not wanting to engage in any conversation at the moment.

"Well if it isn't the recluse." You could hear Damon say as he waltzes up behind you. You turn to face Damon, His sly grin only added to your already troubled mood. "The walls of your room must miss you," he adds with a chuckle.

Rolling your eyes, you try to brush off his teasing. "Yeah, well, I prefer my own company," you retort, trying to keep the conversation short.

Damon raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your response. "Sure, sure, the great mystery of the galaxy brooding in their room," he replies, feigning drama. "But seriously, are you ever going to join us normal people on the bridge? You know, to witness the beauty of space or something."

You clench your jaw, feeling more agitated by his taunts. "I'll be there when I feel like it," you mutter, attempting to move past him and head to the bridge.

However, Damon steps in front of you, blocking your path. "Now, now, don't get all huffy," he smirks, placing a hand on his chest in mock innocence. "We just miss having you around, that's all. It's been so happy without your emo vibes."

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, and you can feel the anger boiling within you. "Happy without my 'emo vibes'? You've got a real talent for being a jerk, Damon," you snap, unable to hide your irritation anymore.

Damon's grin falters for a moment, seemingly surprised by your reaction, but it quickly returns as he brushes it off. "Whoa there, calm down," he says, trying to act nonchalant. "Just trying to lighten the mood, you know."

"Yeah, well, maybe pick a different approach next time," you retort, taking a step back, ready to leave. The last thing you want is to spend any more time dealing with Damon's antics.

But just as you turn to walk away, Damon reaches out and grabs your wrist firmly causing you to yank it back with a yelp of pain. The room froze and everyone seemed to stop and look towards you and Damon. You'd instinctively grabbed your wrist and begun to hold it to your chest as your eyes glanced over the many other pairs of eyes that now watched you both.

"You're bleeding." the captain says, rising from his chair but you take another step back towards the door. Your world seemed to be collapsing around you with every second that passed. The room fell silent as everyone watched the tense interaction between you and Damon. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and anger mixed with fear was bubbling inside you. The pain in your wrist seemed to intensify as you held it against your chest, trying to hide it from everyone's view.

Captain Lynch took a step forward, his expression now serious and concerned. "Are you alright? Let me see your wrist," he said gently, extending a hand towards you.

"No, I'm fine," you replied, trying to muster up a brave front, but your voice quivered slightly.

Damon's earlier smirk was replaced with a look of genuine concern, and maybe even anger, "He wasn't asking." at this moment you were more afraid of the look Damon was giving you then the man twice his size that was still reaching out to your arm.

"I said no!" was all you said before turning around sprinting out the door and down the metal corridors.

As you ran through the corridors, your heart was pounding in your chest, and your mind was racing with a mix of emotions. Fear, anger, and confusion all tangled together, making it hard to think clearly. You had to get away from Damon and everyone else, finding solace and safety in the only place you knew—the familiarity of your own room.

You sprinted through the ship, your mind solely focused on reaching the sanctuary of your quarters. Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. You didn't want to be seen like this, weak and vulnerable. As you approached your room, you fumbled with the panel to open the door, your hands trembling from the adrenaline rushing through your body.

Once inside you let them come to a close and lock the doors behind you, sliding down against it until you were sitting on the floor. Your breaths were ragged, and you finally allowed the tears to flow freely down your cheeks. The pain in your wrist, both physical and emotional, felt overwhelming.

You didn't understand why Damon's actions had affected you so deeply. Yes, he was rude and insensitive, but there was something about his grab that triggered a painful memory, reminding you of your past and the loss you had endured. Your father's abusive behavior flashed before your eyes, and the wounds that had never fully healed were ripped open once more.

Feeling the weight of your emotions becoming too much to bear, you reached for the small plant that Ryona had given you. Holding it close to your chest, you tried to find some comfort in its presence, as if its mere existence could help soothe the turmoil inside you.

As time passed, the commotion outside your room died down, and the ship's engines hummed steadily. You could still hear faint voices, but you did your best to block them out. You didn't want to confront anyone right now, especially not Damon or Captain Lynch.

It wasn't long before there was a soft knock on your door. You didn't respond, hoping that whoever it was would assume you were busy or resting. After a while they went away and you were left in silence again, watching the stars pass by had helped some but the constant wrenching of your heart seemed to only grow as the moments passed. It was late enough that no one would be awake and there was always one place you liked to go.

You dragged yourself from your bed and changed the bandages on your arms before leaving your room as quietly as possible. The halls were dark, and most were already snug in their beds and attempting to sleep over the noise of the engine. Finally, you made it to the lower levels of the ship, just before you reach the dock, there was a large window that seemed to jut out of the side of the ship. When sitting there you almost feel as if you're floating through space in your own bubble.

You sat by the large window, your knees pulled up to your chest, and your arms wrapped around them. The stars outside flickered, painting the vast canvas of space with their distant light. The gentle hum of the ship's engines provided a comforting background noise, lulling you into a sense of peace despite the turmoil within.

You stared out into the endless void, lost in thought. The events of the day, the confrontation with Damon, and the unexpected interaction with Captain Lynch weighed heavily on your mind. You couldn't help but replay the memories of your past, the painful moments you had tried so hard to bury.

Deep down, you knew that running away from your emotions wouldn't solve anything. You needed to confront the pain, the anger, and the fear that you had been carrying for so long. But it was easier said than done. Opening up, being vulnerable, and facing the past was terrifying, and you weren't sure if you were ready for it.

As you sat there, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn't turn around; you didn't need to know who it was. Part of you hoped it was Ayame, understanding and compassionate, but another part feared it might be Damon or even Captain Lynch, wanting to address what had happened earlier.

The footsteps halted behind you, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, a voice broke through, hesitant and awkward. "I'm sorry," Captain Lynch said softly. This made you turn and glance at him from over your shoulder, he wasn't clad in his usual uniform, instead he wore a simple t-shirt and joggers. Like this he seemed far less intimidating than before.

"Why are you apologizing?" You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before responding. "It's not your fault," you said, your voice catching slightly.

Captain Lynch hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for the right words to say. "I should have handled the situation with Damon better. I shouldn't have let it escalate to the point where you felt the need to run away," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of regret.

You turned your gaze back to the stars, finding some comfort in the distant lights that seemed to listen without judgment. "It's not your responsibility to babysit me or control how others behave," you replied, trying to sound strong, but your voice wavered.

He sat down beside you, his eyes also fixed on the cosmic expanse. Seeing him like this next to you made him seem comedically bigger than everything around him and it made you smile.  "Maybe not, but I care about the crew, and I care about you," he said quietly.

What? He what? "Captain listen-" You began but he stopped you short.

"Calderon." He corrected his eyes still firmly fixed ahead of him.

"Calderon." You repeated. "I really appreciate it, and I hope we can put this behind us but I think we both know that it won't happen." You confess trying not to sound bitter about it. "So you can just drop me off the next planet you get to and I'll figure the rest out. "

You sigh turning away from him and back towards the window. You could feel a lump forming in your throat and you felt the tears threatening to spill over once more. You wouldn't be able to hide your feelings much longer and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you break.

"I don't want to drop you off," Calderon says softly. "I want you to stay. I want to help you."

"Why? Why would you want to help me?" You ask with a shaky voice. "I'm not worth it."

Calderon reached out and gently brushed his fingers across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected contact and looked up into his soft blue eyes. "You're worth it. And I want to help you because I like you." Calderon says softly.

You weren't sure what to say, how do you respond to that, "You can't just say stuff like that." Was all you could muster.

"Ok well, A. I'm the captain and last i checked I can say what I want. " He says wearing a smug smile, you could see he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes and you were sure he could notice the steady blush talking over your cheeks.

"And B?" You question, feeling a bit emboldened.

"Well, I guess you'll have to find that out," he said with a sly grin. You could feel your face burning as you tried to look away from him, and he chuckled softly before standing up and holding out his hand to help you up.

"I'll let you get back to your brooding, but I'd like you to talk Ryona about your arm." he said but once you were standing again you simply shook your head.

"I'm ok." you say, holding your arm close to your body again. He gave you a knowing look but nodded and left you to your thoughts.

***

When you began to make it back to your room, you tried your best to compose yourself, using your jacket sleeves to muffle your sniffles. You couldn't believe what had happened, but you couldn't help the feelings it stirred within you. He liked you? You couldn't help but replay those words in your head. It was one thing for him to say it happenstancely, but he'd really said it.

It took all your willpower not to run down the hall screaming that he likes you, you like him, it was a perfect   moment. And yet, it made you feel even more conflicted. The conflict was part of the reason you'd been avoiding everyone. The thought of everyone knowing about the pain you carried, the memories that haunted you, terrified you. You weren't ready to face it, to confront it, not yet.

You knew you needed to speak with Ryona about your arm, you could see the bruises forming and the blood from the cuts seeping through. You walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, maybe tomorrow.

As the door slid open, your breath caught in your throat and your face burned with embarrassment. Your bed was a mess and clothes were strewn all over the floor. Damon had been through your things, going through your private things. You were about to let out a yell of anger and frustration when you saw Damon standing beside your desk, holding up the knife you'd used to hurt yourself before.

"I told you to be careful with it, " he was definitely not his normal cocky and charming self. No he was angry, more angry then you'd ever seen him.

You took a step towards him, clenching your fists. "Why were you going through my things? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You felt the heat rise to your face again as your frustration boiled over. You had a lot of things you wanted to say, a lot of emotions you wanted to release, but none of them seemed to make it past your lips.

Damon turned around to face you, his own hands clenched into tight fists. "Why were you cutting yourself with this?" He asked, his tone even more angry. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I wouldn't care?"

"I thought you'd be happy about it," you fired back, "you're always picking on me, teasing me, so you'd think this would be your opportunity to have a good laugh at my expense."

"So, what, you think I'm an asshole then? I thought you were better than that," he said, stepping closer to you. "You think I want to watch you hurt yourself?"

"Well, that's what you seem to do isn't it? Tease me, make me angry, get me so worked up I have to hurt myself to calm down!" You could hear the anger in your voice, but it was nothing compared to the anger you could feel coming off of Damon.

"Don't fucking turn this on me," he says, his voice shaking with anger. "You can't use me as an excuse.

"I am not blaming you for this, dammit," you snap, "and yes, I am blaming you! You're the one who brought it up, you're the one who started this whole thing by teasing me."

"I didn't mean for you to take it this far," he says, "I didn't realize..."

You wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him in his moment of weakness, why? Why did you want to comfort those who hurt you, you'd never know.

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken it this far. But I couldn't help it, I just...I needed to let it go, you're so fucking infuriating sometimes. So, you're right, it's not your fault. I just couldn't stop myself." You said, trying to force the words out.

He looked at you for a moment, and you could see his eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to touch your cheek, but pulling his hand back in the next instant.

"You're not the only one," you said softly. "I'm sorry too. I should have talked to you, but I wasn't ready."

"No, I should have stopped this from happening," he said, his voice breaking.

"I know, but it just got out of hand." You sighed, rubbing your face. "I need to get to bed." You said, moving towards the door. "Good night, Damon." But before you had a chance his hand grabbed yours and in an instant the world became still.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears and every nerve in your body felt electrified. You could feel the air around you change. You could smell the warm sugary like scent that hung in the air, feel the warmth of his skin on yours.

He became close, so close you could feel his breath against your neck and the gentle brush of his lips. His hand gripped yours and you felt a surge of power run through your veins.

"You know I don't like it." He says quietly, almost so softly you couldn't hear it. "When you cut yourself." His cologne was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his shampoo from his normal evening shower.

You swallowed hard and nodded, "I know." You said softly.

"I-." He seems to struggle to voice his feelings, his voice a whisper that barely reaches your ears. "I want you." His hands had left yours and begun to grip the fabric of your shirt on either side of you. "I want to stay. " Like this he almost seemed like a pouting child.

You felt the softness of his lips as they touched the back of your ear, his hands running over your sides. If you weren't red before you certainly were now. This might was confusing, Damon and his feelings are confusing, but you'd be lying if you said you'd hadn't thought about him saying those words to you before.

"O-ok." Was all you could manage. For the first time ever you hugged him and he hugged you back. Never had his walls tumble down so far but tonight something had shook him to his core, the thought that he might lose you and it would be his fault.

"I'll sleep here with you," he said softly. "I won't let you do that again." He said, his hands sliding up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your lips. "Please, don't hurt yourself anymore." He said, his eyes begging you to understand.

Your heart was pounding, and your cheeks were flushed. "Ok." You whispered.

#andromeda six #calderon lynch #damon reznor #fanfiction #juniper #ryona mi'haden #vexx serif #visual novel #archive of our own #tw self destruction #angst #possibly triggering

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.109 - The Rileys - Part 1

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

First of the three-part leg of Simon and Kiera's honeymoon!

Author's Note: Again, I'm so sorry for such a late update. My life has been... a rollercoaster. Since my last update, it's unfortunate to say that things did not go as planned. After my final drop off in Colorado, I was desperate to get back to Montana so when I left northern Colorado, my truck broke down close to the Wyoming border with my horse in the trailer as well as my two dogs with me being stranded in the isolated part of northern Colorado. Luckily, I was able to get in touch with my USRider insurance, which covers a tow for both my truck and trailer as well as getting me and my horse somewhere safe until I could get back on the road. The closest shop that could see my truck was in Parker, Colorado, which is south of Denver, so it put me out of my way by three hours. I spent two days in a Super 8 and when I got the call that my truck was fixed, I had to dive into my savings to get it fixed and back on the road. With no new hauls coming back to Montana, I used the rest of my money for fuel to just get home. It took me nearly four days to get home due to a massive storm that came through Kansas and into Colorado the same day I left. To add more fuel to the fire, during my time on the road, I had completely forgotten that my power bill was linked to my debit card - the same debit card that I had to use to get fuel prior to my big trip, so in short my power had been off since July 18th. So not only did I come home to no power in a massive heatwave, I came home to everything in my fridge completely rotten, including a freezer full of beef I had processed last year from my farm. I don't want to ask for help because I'm stubborn and this is my problem I've gotten myself into, but I've contemplated on opening up my tips box on Tumblr as even a dollar helps me out, but to me, having a consistent reader base and constant support goes further than any dollar will, so I'm just grateful that you all love this story as much as I do. Long story put very short, I'm having to start all over again - literally. I really enjoy writing and I think about this story every day and adding to it, but please bear with me if things look sloppy. I know you guys are eager for my updates and I want to give my audience what they want, but it's just been hard these last few weeks and I'm just trying to get back on my feet and on track. 

I love you all. Thank you very much for reading. I hope to keep updating as soon as I possibly can! - A &lt;3

Las Vegas, Nevada

"Love, I'm not joking: when we get out of this cab, I want you by my side at all times." 

"Aw, come on, babe. I won't go far," She giggled, her eyes glued to the massive structures that lined the Strip. "It'll be fun to get lost in a place like this." 

"I'm not having a runaway bride," He arched his brow. "Especially in a town like this."

"Will there be a punishment for an intense game of hide n' seek?" 

"Oh yes there will." He arched his brow.

"Hm, sounds like a rule I'd like to break..."

"Love, if I wanted to babysit, I would've brought Johnny." 

She laughed, "Bringing Johnny on our honeymoon? Having some extra thoughts there?" 

"Absolutely not." 

"Mhm... I think you are." 

"Those drinks on the plane have been teasing at you, yeah? Sounds like you're the one with additional thoughts that I should be worried about."

"No," She scoffed. "I love Johnny, but like a brother or a pet fish. I'd cry if I had to flush him down the toilet, but I definitely don't want to kiss him!" 

Simon couldn't help but laugh as he gazed out the window, seeing the hotel he had booked for two nights before their flight to Birmingham. "I'll take your word for it. We're here." 

"Where exactly are we going?" She giggled. 

"The hotel, love." 

"I know, but which one? There's thirty million in my eyesight." She exaggerated. 

"You said you wanted to go to Paris, right?" 

"I can't recall," She shrugged playfully before looking towards the Paris Las Vegas hotel. "Is that where we're going?" 

"I figured it was better than some cheap motel with complementary bed bugs and moth balls," He replied sarcastically, smirking when she playfully slapped his bicep, her eyes fixated on the many bright lights that made the Las Vegas Strip. "Besides, this place is better than Paris, France. Trust me." 

She laughed in agreement, "Oh, I know, babe. Paris in France isn't what it's cracked up to be. This is ten times better." 

"I'm glad I picked right, then," He nodded, exiting the cab once the driver had stopped at the front of the hotel, Simon offering his hand to her to help her exit the vehicle before he made his way to the trunk to grab the three duffel bags himself to keep Kiera from doing it. "Let's go check in while I still have you in my sight." 

"You should know I'm not going anywhere... yet," She giggled, swinging her purse over her shoulder. "Let me get one of those, Simon-"

"I got it." He replied sternly, letting her walk in front of him before the bellhop met him with a cart in the lobby, generously helping him set the bags down to help ease the strain from his shoulders. That lass is notorious for packing everything that can fit in this bloody thing, he huffed to himself. She's the reason I pack my own bag. He nodded graciously at the bellhop before making his way to the receptionist, keeping his new wife in his peripheral vision to reassure himself that her curiosity wasn't leading her down a path away from him, although a part of him knew she would easily become distracted. "Good evening, sir. Checking in for the evening?" 

"Yes, I made a reservation last week," He replied, pulling out his phone to show the receptionist his proof of reserve for two nights in his email's inbox. "Riley." 

She nodded, typing on her computer before the confirmation pulled up on her desktop, "Ah! There you are! Give me just one second and I'll print out this form for you to sign and your keycards. Do you have your I.D.?" 

As much as he hated showing strangers his identification card, he did it anyway after taking a long exhale to rid his mind of anxious thoughts, handing it to the receptionist and closely watching her as she keyed in his information for their records. "Alright, just sign this line here. Will you need just one or two keycards for your stay?" 

"Probably two. She'll lose it if we just have one." He said, nodding towards Kiera when she finally made her way to stand next to him at the counter after looking at the many decorations that filled the lobby. 

"I understand!" The receptionist giggled, retrieving the form he had just signed and putting it away in the file folder for their current check-ins and registering the keycards for their room. "You're all set for your stay! Just take the elevator down this hall to floor eighteen and take a right." 

"Thank you." Simon nodded, retrieving the keycards from her hand. 

"You're very welcome! Enjoy your stay! The bellhop is already in route to your room to deliver your bags!" 

He nodded, hating the fact that someone else that possession of his and Kiera's things, but he forced himself to not overreact as it was simply just a person doing their job and not someone with cruel intentions to sabotage his honeymoon. 

Simon was still going to check and be sure. 

Kiera wrapped her arm around his as he escorted them to their home-away-from home for the next two days, the pair looking around at the luxurious decorations and marble floors as they made their way to the elevator. "We're definitely a long way from home." She commented. 

"That we are, love." 

"You don't see stuff like this in Wyoming." 

"No, but Wyoming does have the Grand Tetons," He chuckled. "Which by the way, are named after big tits." 

"What? No they're not." She laughed. 

"I can assure you, that's what it means. When I was in France, I remember hearing locals talking about it - how they laughed at how many tourists travel far and wide to see The Big Tits of the U.S." 

"I can't tell if you're being serious or sarcastic," She giggled, pulling out her phone. "But I am going to look it up." 

"You do that, love," He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple after escorting her into the elevator. "You know, if this elevator didn't have so many cameras, I'd have you pinned to this wall." 

She blushed, "I'm surprised that's what's stopping you." 

"It is because I don't want one of those old men looking at the cameras gawking at something that's all mine. I'm selfish." He explained, wrapping his free arm around the small of her back, pinching her rear discreetly as they stood against the back wall of the elevator, smirking at how she shrieked at his gesture. 

She couldn't help the blush that stained her cheeks at his possessiveness, a warm sensation flooding between her legs as his hand continued to press protectively against the small of her back as they walked along the hallway towards their room. 

Opening the door for her, they both were amazed at the room before them. 360 square feet of pure luxury - elegant carpet, a flat-screen television hanging on the wall adjacent to the lavish king-sized bed, a marble floor to decorate the bathroom with a shower big enough for three people, a separate bathtub and an immaculate view of the Eifel Tower that stood out from the rest of the attraction markings of the Las Vegas Strip. "Oh... My God," She gasped, hesitant to take curious steps forward to look into the room. "This is amazing, Simon."

"Look around, love," He chuckled as he reached for the bags the bellhop had left on the table for them, opening up each one to ensure nothing was missing. I just don't trust anyone. "Where do you want to go first?" 

He watched as she exited the bathroom, turning off the light as she walked towards the bed, running her fingers along the sheets. "I'm fine with staying here for a while. I'm sure this was a lot of money to dish out-"

"Don't worry about the money, love," He cut her off, assuring her that he didn't want her to worry about anything financially. "You tell me what you want to do." 

She hummed, "I mean, can we hang out here for a while? It's only three o'clock." 

"I'm fine with that," He assured her with a grin. "When it gets dark, we can walk around if you'd like." 

"I'd love that, babe," She smiled, slowly approaching him and slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his lips while his hands instinctively rested on her hips. "Thank you for this." 

"You deserve it," He murmured. "This is only the first of many surprises." 

"Strange that you're the one throwing surprises when you don't like getting surprises," She giggled. "You're going to have to let me pay for something at least." 

"Not a chance." He shook his head, accepting another kiss from her as his hand couldn't help but slide down to grasp at her rear. 

"Come on, at least something!" 

He shrugged, "I mean, I'm willing to take another method of payment..." 

"Is that right?" She giggled. "Well, I can arrange that." 

"I was hoping so, because I'd hate to turn it over to collections." He poked, kissing her jaw as her arms wrapped around his neck, giggling at his banter. 

"Oh, I definitely don't want that!" She laughed, melting into his touch as he began to guide her back towards the bed, easing her against the mattress as he rest between her legs, caging her between his arms while his lips caged against hers. 

"We can work on a payment plan, love." He smirked against her lips. 

"Did you sneak one of your allies on the plane with you?" She asked, her hips jolting at the faint sensation of a vibration against her thigh, immediately assuming it was that small vibrator she kept in her nightstand. 

"No, I won't need that," He chuckled against her lips, using his left hand to fish his phone out of his pocket, grumbling to himself that it had been ringing in the first place. "It's that son of ours. Wonder what he's gotten himself into." 

"Are you going to answer it?" She giggled, watching him stare blankly at the screen as if he were waiting for Baler's caller I.D. to disappear. 

He shot her a quick side glance, a playful glare before his thumb slide right against the screen before pressing the phone against his ear, "Yeah?" 

"So, uh... I have a question." Baler spoke from the other end of the phone, mischief lacing his voice. 

Simon knew he was up to something.

And he didn't like it. Especially with he and Kiera being distant miles apart. 

He sighed, "What?" 

"Well, technically Soap has a question, but he was too scared to ask you-"

"Spit it out, lad." 

"So you know how Jacob has a full head of hair?" 

"You mean beautiful, thick blonde hair for a one-year-old?" He scoffed. "What about it?" 

"Well," Baler sighed. "Uncle Johnny thought it would be funny to make Jacob look like him-"

"Uncle Johnny is going to be looking like ground lamb if you're not joking," He scoffed, his mood quickly souring at Baler's words. "Send me a picture. Now." 

"What happened, babe?" Kiera asked, her brows furrowing. 

He sighed as he put the phone on speaker, "Repeat what you just said to me." 

"Hey momma," Baler chuckled out of nervousness. "Uncle Johnny gave Jacob a haircut." 

"Baler, sweetheart, you're lying through your teeth, and you know it. Johnny knows better-"

"No, he doesn't, love." Simon reminded her, arching his brow. 

"Baler, do you promise you're calling to tell us our precious baby boy received an unwanted haircut?" 

A few moments of silence pass by. 

"That's what I thought," She commented, reassuringly rubbing Simon's arm while they heard two sets of laughter on the other end of the phone. "He's just messing with you, babe." 

"He better fucking be." 

"Hey!" Baler chimed. "Mom said no cussing!"

Simon huffed in defeat, "Take the phone, please. That lad is going to make my blood pressure go up." 

"You forgot to mute me, dad!" Baler snickered. 

"Did he fall for it?" Soap chimed in from the background. 

Kiera giggled while she took the phone from Simon's hand, rolling over onto her stomach while he stood to his feet to walk across the room to pick up the room service menu, playfully tapping Kiera's rear when he sat back down on the edge of the bed, grasping her ankles and putting her feet on his lap, removing her shoes for her while his thumb gently massaged the arches of her feet while his other hand clasped the service menu. 

"Thanks for raising Simon's blood pressure, you two." Kiera giggled. 

"You two haven't been gone for an entire day and I've been itching to piss dad off," Baler snickered. "Johnny put me up to it." 

"Oh, I don't doubt he did. Jacob still has his full head of hair, right?"

"Yes, momma," Baler confirmed. "I can't say the same about Evie though..." 

Simon's head snapped towards the phone at the mention of Evie's name, "He better be bloody joking!" 

Baler and Johnny both laughed through the phone, "Perfect head of hair still, mate, we're just toying!" 

"You two don't need to be spending too much time together," Kiera giggled. "Nothing but trouble!" 

"Well, I didn't want to call with some boring conversation, momma," Baler chuckled. "Nana hasn't let them out of her sight." 

"I'm glad she hasn't." Simon commented, a breath of relief leaving his lips. 

"What've you been up to?"

"I just got home from school and am about to go take care of barn chores before I do my homework." 

"Good," She smiled. "How are Kimber and Church?" 

"Kimber is annoying. Church doesn't care about anything going on. He likes having the house to himself. Nana has been letting me stay with her so she can take me to school and so I can help her with the twins."

"I'm proud of you, baby," She smiled. "You make sure you keep up with your homework, okay?" 

"I will, momma. I miss you guys." 

"We miss you too. I'm already homesick." 

"Don't be. We've got the fort grounded here. Uncle Johnny is ready to fill in dad's shoes." 

"He has big shoes to fill." Simon commented. 

"I know. I told him that but he says he'd rather fill slippers than clown shoes." 

"Hang up on him." He replied sternly, although both Kiera and Baler both knew that he was being sarcastic. 

"Anyway, I just wanted to call and check in and make sure you two got to Vegas safe. I tried calling your phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

"Awe, thank you. You should know I'm always safe. I'm sorry, my phone died on the plane." 

"Okay, well I'm going to jump off here and finish the barn chores. I'll tell Nana to call you later."

"Okay, baby. Let me know how Sailor is!" She reminded, referring to her horse. 

"I can already tell you how he is: still a prick."

Baler's answer made Simon chuckle, "He's not wrong, love." 

She scoffed, "Whatever you say." 

"I'll talk to you guys later. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I love you, dad!" He chimed, knowing Simon loved him, but he genuinely enjoyed getting under his father's skin. 

"Love you too." 

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