#and there was a point where he seemed to be getting better but then an abcess formed as a result of the surgery

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil.

I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.

First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.

So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…

Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)

Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.

Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.

(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)

I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.

But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.

I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.

But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.

I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.

It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.

I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.

My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”

But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.

In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.

Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”

As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.

I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…

The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.

So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.

People always say “it’s never too late.”

One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”

I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”

It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.

Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”

But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.

Whew.

So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.

And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.

Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.

Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)

[crvptidgf]

Pogue Gone Rogue • pt. II

Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader

➸ summary: following a nasty divorce with Big John, your mother moved you to Figure 8, separating you from your step-brother and his group of misfits. 5 years later you’ve integrated into the kook life, but what happens when your estranged brother tries to bring you back to the pogue ways?

➸ warnings/notes: best friend’s brother trope, rafe isn’t crazy in this (sort of), heavy daddy issues from both reader and rafe, secret relationship, some strays from canon, eventual smut (18+)

word count: 2.6k

previous part

————————

IT TOOK YOU a while to clean yourself when you got home that night. The salt from the seawater stuck to your hair and you had to hop in the shower to rinse yourself off.

You couldn’t believe that your dad has been missing for several months and you were just finding out about it now.

Did your mom know? Did Ward? You knew they had been friends at some point - maybe that’s why he was so adamant on you having a key to the house. Were you really the last one to be told out about this?

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you decided to go to bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.

The next day was eerily quiet. Sarah wasn’t in bed next to you like she usually was, and the house seemed empty from what you could tell. You figured she went to see Topper after what happened last night.

Picking your phone up from your nightstand, you ventured downstairs to get breakfast.

“Morning sunshine,” came Rafe’s voice from the kitchen. You thought to you were home alone, but the fact that you weren’t brought a sense of comfort. In all honesty you didn’t want to be alone right now.

Plopping down onto the stool at the island, you rubbed at your temple. Today felt strange for many reasons.

“Where is everyone?”

Rafe poured a cup of coffee for himself before grabbing another mug and doing the same to that one.

“Wheezie is at school, Ward and Rose went off to some meeting and Sarah-“ Rafe stopped to slide the drink to you, “is God knows where.”

You nodded. As you said before, she was most likely at Topper’s. Ward always had meetings early in the mornings, and Rose would join just to chat with the housewives and influence their opinions and ideas. That was something that you learned from Rafe - if the housewives could vouch for Cameron Development to their husbands then it was all the better for the company.

The coffee was bitter and strong, just how Rafe liked it. You winced at the taste and set the cup back down.

“What did you say to Topper last night?” you asked. He looked pretty angry when you saw him on the beach, remembering how he was hoisting your friend’s boyfriend up by the shirt.

Rafe shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that he won’t do it again.”

Another beat of silence fell between you two.

It was Rafe’s turn to ask a question. “What did John B say to you?”

You were expecting him to ask you about it, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise. Sarah was the only one who really knew about your family before you moved to Figure 8 - the only one who knew how much of a sensitive topic it was for you.

A humorless laugh left your lips as you responded. “My dad has disappeared and as always, I’m the last to find out.”

He didn’t know it, but you were referring to the divorce. When your parents split everybody knew it was happening before you did. You only realized when your mom began to pack her bags to leave. She gave you a kiss on the cheek and a quick goodbye before leaving. You were 14.

“Disappeared?” Rafe asked cautiously.

“Yep. Gone, missing, whatever you wanna call it.”

Sad was not a word you would use to describe what you were feeling. Especially not when you remember how he spoke to you when your mom left you in his care while she figured herself out back on Figure 8. She wanted to stabilize her career before moving you in with her, and Big John took all his anger with her out on you.

So, sad was not what you were, but seeing the look Rafe gave you reminded you that maybe you should be.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m fine. I’m honestly just pissed.”

With an understanding nod, he left the room to let you cook yourself some food. You didn’t know it but he was already imagining how he’d rip into your brother the next time he saw him.

SARAH DIDN’T GET back home until way later that day. You and Rafe didn’t discuss what happened at the party since the morning - especially avoiding the weird moment that you two had.

He usually liked to stay out of Pogue business. Even though the fight happened at a Kook party and Topper initiated it, he still found himself not caring too much about it.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked Sarah as you scrolled through your phone on her bed.

For the past few minutes she had been trying to convince you to text your brother, but to no avail. You had no idea why she was suddenly vouching so hard for him considering she was the one who was against John B working on her dad’s boat.

“You went from calling him every name under the sun to wanting me to talk to him?”

Sarah shrugged, her eyes cast down to her fingernails. You wondered what happened at Topper’s to make her act like such a devil’s advocate. John B wasn’t there for you when it mattered - Sarah was. And she knew that, so where did the sudden change of heart come from?

It felt like each day only caused more and more questions to form as Sarah adamantly tried to get you to hear your brother's side of the story.

Tonight she was out again. She was acting weird but you chalked it up to her having a strain on the relationship with Topper ever since the beach. Maybe she felt bad for John B. Her boyfriend did almost drown the guy. Hopefully she was at his house talking it out now so that she could go back to normal.

That was not the case, however.

You were walking outside to grab Sarah’s bike, hoping to go for a ride to clear your head. Instead you saw Topper and Rafe in the driveway. While you didn’t catch all of what was happening, you heard an angry tone.

“What, are you spying on her?” spat Rafe.

Forgetting about your relaxing bike ride you walked up further to see what was happening. “Topper?” you asked, confused on why he was here and not with Sarah. “Where’s Sarah?”

Topper glanced at you before turning to get back in the car. “That’s what I’m tryna figure out.” And with that, he was gone.

“Fucking prick,” Rafe cursed as he rubbed his hand over his face. Rafe and Topper never really got along but you felt like the comment came out of nowhere. Deciding that you didn’t care enough to ask, you returned to your mission of getting the bike.

What you did care about was Sarah’s whereabouts. If her boyfriend didn’t know where she was then who did? She didn’t even tell you - her best friend.

“If you’re looking for the bike, Sarah took it.”

You stopped in your tracks. So she went somewhere far enough that she needed to cycle. Where could she have possibly gone? Everything was so confusing right now.

A sigh escaped your lips.

“Come swim with me?” you asked silently.

Rafe pretended to think about it, but ultimately he followed you into the house to walk into the backyard. It was warm and the summer sun was setting, the pink and orange hues reflecting on the pool water.

This wasn’t the first time you swam here but after the night at the beach with Rafe, you felt slightly unconscious under his gaze. The act of getting undressed in front of him held a new meaning now.

“Don’t be so tense. I’m not gonna pounce on you,” Rafe joked when he sensed your hesitation to take your shirt off.

He began to dip into the water. It took everything in him to not look behind and watch you pull the cloth from your body. Not even a moment later you joined him, the water rippling as you settled next to him.

You tilted your head up to watch the sunset. “She didn’t tell me where she went,” you mumbled.

Water dripped from Rafe’s hand as he ran it through his hair. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “But I know that she always does this shit.”

Their sibling rivalry was something you didn’t understand too much. From Sarah’s perspective Rafe was impulsive and hotheaded, his constant overprotective nature being something she hated. That was why she was the favorite according to her.

“Yeah, but not like this. You know she told me I should call John B?” you scoffed as you sifted your hands through the blue-toned liquid.

“I don’t know why that’s bad, besides the fact that it’s John B.”

Slapping his shoulder playfully, you left his side to stroke across the pool to the other side. Rafe followed.

If you weren’t so frustrated you probably wouldn’t have even considered telling him. Or if Sarah was here to complain to. “My step-dad wasn’t the best. John B was always the favorite since I wasn’t technically his ‘real’ kid. And I just-“ you scratched at your forehead, feeling awkward even voicing this out loud to Rafe. “He’s just never stood up for me. That’s all I’ll say.”

Rafe hummed.

“So he’s the golden child? I know what that’s like.” He said it with such disdain in his voice that you opted against asking him to elaborate.

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe I should just give him a chance. I got a new number so I can’t exactly call him but I might go down to the Chateau tomorrow,” you were mostly thinking out-loud to yourself, not even paying any attention to Rafe beside you.

“On your own?” Rafe almost laughed. “Forget it. I’ll drive you.”

You were about to object before you realized that you kind of liked the idea of someone being there with you. It made the thought of dealing with your ex friends a little less daunting. But you liked fucking with the guy. So, instead of agreeing you decided to tease him.

“We’ll see.”

Rafe’s eyebrow inched upwards. “I wasn’t asking. I’m coming.” He was now swimming closer to you, his face flushed and wet.

“You think I’m gonna let those grubby Pogues get their hands on you? Or what happens if JJ pulls out his gun again?”

Your heart beat a little faster upon noticing how Rafe was advancing towards you. Without even noticing you were slowly walking backwards. “And what are you gonna do if he does?” you asked sarcastically. Realistically nobody would stand a chance against JJ with a firearm, not even Rafe.

“I’ll show him my gun,” he muttered, his head tilted down to look at your shorter stature. Well, everybody was short to him.

Eventually your back came into contact with the wall of the pool. If it came as no surprise that Maybank had a weapon, it definitely wasn’t a shock that Rafe did too. It was Rafe - you’d be concerned if he didn’t.

“Wow,” you mused jokingly, “my knight in shining armor.”

Rafe placed his hand on the edge of the wall behind you, his signature smirk playing on his features. “You don’t need one. Your crazy ass ran towards an attempted homicide situation,” he said while leaning down to reach your eye level. “Y’know most people would run the other way, princess.”

You knew he was only trying to rile you up and make you feel stupid. “I’m not most people.”

His eyes softened. “You really aren’t,” he added sincerely.

Rafe was almost chest to chest with you. It was like you could feel like the heart beats against his ribcage with his proximity. Any small movement would cause you to press up against him, and you fought with everything in you to not do it.

His face was still parallel to yours, his breath fanning across your face. The subtle smell of tobacco could be smelled and, normally you would hate it, but on Rafe it was intoxicating.

Eyes flitting to your lips, he quickly caught himself and looked back up at you.

“Tell me not to,” he said suddenly.

Rafe always thought you were pretty. Even through his weird fixation on your past as a Pogue, he felt a pull to you, one that he had never had with anyone before. He liked your playful relationship, and the fact that you never treated him as less than Sarah like everybody else did. You saw him for who he was on the outside and not for what he did in the past.

Despite his dad warning Rafe to stay away from you, and his understanding that you were John B’s sister, he could never tear his eyes away from.

He shuddered when he felt you grab his hand, dragging it to lay on your waist. “You know I won’t,” you whispered.

Rafe thought he was dreaming. Someone so perfect and kind like you deserved better than him. But he was too selfish to worry about that right now. All he wanted - all he needed was to feel your lips. If he didn’t he might as well have just passed out right then and there.

In a moment of weakness and lack of logic, he dipped down and captured you in a kiss.

If you weren’t leaning against a surface you probably would’ve fell backwards with the force that you were met with. Was he really this excited to kiss you?

“Always thought you were just a flirt,” you said against his lips, your hands roaming up his biceps to grab at any piece of skin that you could.

Your leg was hoisted up around his hip as he pushed you harder against the wall, his lips continuing to meet yours with such an intense fury that you were genuinely astonished. “Only with you,” Rafe said breathlessly.

A satisfied hum left your mouth as you felt a pair of lips begin to trail downwards. Every single centimeter of skin was being licked, bitten, sucked, kissed - you name it. Rafe was making up for lost time with how he ventured across your neck and chest, having no remorse in leaving marks behind.

“Rafe,” you groaned. “How am I gonna cover those up?”

“I don’t care, but if you keep saying my name like that you’re gonna have a lot more to hide.”

He knew it shouldn’t have felt so right. But it did; and it scared the hell out of him. You on the other hand were trying to ignore the fact that Sarah would have a field day chewing Rafe out about this.

Shit. Sarah.

You ran your hands through Rafe’s hair, slightly tugging. “Rafe,” you called, trying to get him out of his daze.

Suddenly you felt cold at the absence of him. Yet the sight that you were met with when he picked his head up was worth it. His lips were pink and swollen, and his hair was messy from your fingers carding through it. He was quite the vision.

In between pants, you tried to get out the words. “We should-“

You quickly stopped upon hearing two hushed whispers in the distance. It sounded like a female voice, one you recognized quite well. Rafe stepped away from you. Trying to keep quiet, you both looked around for any sign of who it could be - but when the front door opened and you looked through the house to see, you almost gasped.

There, stood in the lightly illuminated hallway was Sarah, your brother’s hand in hers as she seemingly shushed him. She looked around before dragging him deeper into the house.

What the fuck was John B doing here?

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic #obx #obx x reader #obx fandom #outerbanks rafe #outerbanks fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks oneshot #outer banks fandom #outer banks imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic

[xiao-come-home]

thinking ab boothill meeting a fellow (short tempered) bounty hunter reader who he brawled with after he thought they were trying to steal his mark. reader eventually just starts aiming for his head after finding out the rest of his body is made of metal. the fight ends in a stalemate because they start arguing over why he isn't wearing a helmet after he tried dodging a kick by ducking and they just slammed their heel on his head, much to his displeasure.

"OW! WHAT THE *DUCK* IS WRONG WITH YOU??"

"IT'S LITERALLY THE ONLY PLACE ON YOUR BODY THAT'S NOT DEFENDED WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH *YOU*"

"GOIN' FOR THE HEAD'S CHEATIN', YOU *ADORABLE*-"

(incredulous tone) "UHHH HUH I WENT FOR YOUR HEAD BECAUSE YOUR BODY IS MADE OF FUCKING *METAL* YOU FREAK"

"GO TO HEAVEN"

"EAT SHIT"

and then they end up making out somehow

Rubs hands together mischievously 🤧

Oh dear, Boothill didn't actually think you'd go for his head.. I mean, probably because no one else really thought of that before when they fight with him, not that they have time to decide where they want to attack him before seeing stars...

Yet here you are, trying to do just that. Better yet, your mouth doesn't seem to be better, making just as much foul noise as him! Now he's actually even more ready to fight!

Except.. the poor thing just finds itself rubbing his head, groaning from the pulsing pain.

Rightfully so, you point out the weaknesses that's his vulnerable head compared to the rest of his body, but Boothill gets up and points one of his fingers at you, angrily yelling back, "Just what the duck is wrong with you! This is cheatin'! Fight me like you mean it, you adorable—"

Even though you truly (although quite as loud as him) explain why you did it, Boothill just doesn't have it, accusing you of taking the easy way, and demanding a rematch, a fair rematch, in his words. You refuse, crossing your arms and reminding him how just a while ago, someone was moaning on the floor from the pain.

"Ah! So you're bein' a coward, cutie! Go hug yourself! AND face me again when you get sum nerve!"

You gasp at his words, pulling him by his collar, "Just what did you say to me, you—"

Your words fall apart when Boothill takes advantage of the closeness and kisses you; his lips, surprisingly soft, feel so right against yours - he doesn't know why he felt the urge to just shut you up this way, and he acted on it, but there's no turning back.

He pulled away first, slightly unsure of what comes next, as you didn't kiss him back, but neither did you push him away - he waits for your answer, unable to say anything himself, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"What— what was that!" You cover your mouth with your hand, feeling the warmth on your cheeks, "either way! As I was saying, don't you dare call me a coward ever again!"

Boothill grabs your chin firmly with his hand, a smug grin adorning his face, "oh really now? Then kiss me again, sugar."

He gets closer; you can feel his warm breath on your lips.

"Don't hold back."

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.thirst

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 70)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (57) / Alexia Putellas x Character (27) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (13)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Join our WOSO Discord chat! Link in bio :)

((**2.5k**))

I recommend reading the last 5+ parts first!

((**Sorry for the lack of posting. Life and... procrastination getting in the way. I'll try to post more, starting with smaller chapters. Much love! Jae.**))

Jordan hadn’t realised that she’d instinctively sought the comfort of Leah by grabbing her hand until she felt a soft squeeze. Realising, she dropped Leah’s hand just as quickly as she’d grabbed it and tried to not look at her. It wasn’t too difficult though, as the room in front of them was much more interesting. It resembled the size and structure of a warehouse space, though it was set up for content. There were different areas for interviews, photos, videos, there were different sports brands moving throughout, clothes overflowing racks, and so much more. The pets were great to see –Blu whined from her arms and his head darted around, his eyes overwhelmed and excited not only by the amount of people, but by the pets too. He loved to play, though his stamina was awful. This is one thing she missed most about not having Leah around. Those two were always playing together.

“You’re alright, mate,” Leah calmed as she stroked his head while tucked up against Jordan’s chest with one of her arms. Jordan relished the feel of Leah’s arm brushing up against her chest lightly as she pet him.

“Madness, right?” Beth chuckled excitedly. Of course she was in her comfort zone.

She spotted Viv and joined her across the room.

“Are you just going to keep standing there?” Jen asked in her amused, wondering tone.

Jordan had no idea and so Leah jumped in.

“Where do we even start..?”

Jen pointed across them and to the area set up with tables of food and drink. Standing right in front of it was the person you’d always expect to find near the food. The pair chuckled when they saw her stuffing her mouth. “She’ll sort you out.”

Jordan shook her head and she couldn’t help the smile cross her face as she wandered over to the food table followed closely by Leah.

“Hey, mate.”

Lucy turned around mid-chew. Her eyes lit up as she saw them both. She gulped down her bite and gave them a little hug while she did so, with a pat for Blu. “Hey you two. You came! I really didn’t think you would but YFN knew you would.”

“Of course we would,” Leah laughed.

“What’s happening?” Jordan asked. “You’re usually eating but you look like you’re stress eating at the moment. Feeling guilty?”

Lucy gave a sheepish grin, having been caught. Jordan had known her for so long. “Just a bit-”

Jordan’s expression had her rolling her eyes as she looked over towards YFN. “-a lot. I didn’t expect it to become what it has. I just wanted to distract her so I could organise her birthday next week.”

Lucy’s expression was obvious regret as she watched her. Jordan followed her eyes to where YFN was. She was sitting at a table with piles of paperwork and her laptop in front of her. Sitting next to her was Alex Scott, though YFN was talking to some Lumos employees who nodded and left. She was obviously organising everything and Jordan always loved to watch her in boss mode. She seemed very tired, though, but that didn’t stop the smile lighting her face. She looked over at the trio and her face lit up from its weariness. She waved at the group as her attention was quickly taken up again by someone else.

“Are you hiding?” Leah asked.

Lucy shook her head and grabbed the plates of food she had on the table in front of her.

“Just stress eating,” Jordan laughed as the trio wandered over to join the table.

“I didn’t want… this,” Lucy grunted. “It just got so out of hand. Everybody jumped on board like the tavern dinner.”

“Have you even spoken to anyone about the birthday plans yet?” Leah murmured as they got closer.

“Only a few. I was hoping you two would distract her so I’d have a better chance to. I’ve been hovering because I feel like someone’s going to run into her. Now be quiet about it… oh and don’t mention Ridley.”

The pair didn’t have a chance to question that before they reached the table and instead shared a look. They each greeted the pair at the table and unsurprisingly, Leah fell straight into conversation with Alex from her seat next to Jordan. The pair were close, though never in a way beyond friendship. Truth be told, she enjoyed seeing Leah interacting with her friend.

“I missed you,” YFN groaned into her as they hugged and then acknowledged Blu. “Hi little man. I missed you too.”

“I missed you more,” Jordan admitted as she held her for longer than she expected. She really did miss her friend. YFN held her until Jordan released first with tears in her eyes that she tried to cover.

“Got a bit carried away, did we?” YFN asked as Lucy put the obscene amount of food down in front of her with a kiss to the temple.

“I know you like options… think of it as tapas, little one.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile that only Lucy brought out of her. “That too, but I was talking about you hoovering. I saw you eating your feelings, Luce. Or rather… inhaling them.”

Jordan chuckled as she placed Blu down on the chair next to her and watched as Lucy wrapped an arm around YFN, holding her softly. It seemed Lucy was still very much feeling guilty and protective of her injuries, and Jordan felt a pang of empathy in her chest. She was still so broken, and she could see her wince at each wrong movement, though she did try to hide it. For Lucy’s sake, she imagined.

“Do you need somewhere to stay tonight?”

Jordan felt Leah shift next to her, having heard the question, and somehow, she knew she was listening to her response. Jordan wasn’t sure what brought out the sudden pride in her as she responded.

“Blu and I are actually staying with Leah tonight.” She said, smiling at Leah who paused her sentence just to smile back and share a moment. Enough was enough. Jordan wanted her. She knew that. And although unexpected, tonight she wanted to show Leah just how much she still cared for her. She felt ready.

Jordan turned back to the couple in front of her. Lucy nodded, her eyes flickering between the two. Though YFN was smiling kindly and… knowingly. Like she already knew.

YFN POV

“Sounds perfect.” Silence hung for a second and as she usually did, YFN broke it to keep the conversation flowing. “Did anyone explain to you two what’s happening here?”

“Nope.”

“Okay so Lucy sort of took the opportunity to ask around to get some people interested in meeting up today and introducing them to our company but it seems things have gotten a little out of hand…” Lucy looked apologetic as YFN’s eyes flickered around the room, making sure everything was running smooth. “So everyone is getting involved as much or as little as they like. Before you do anything, there’s our legal team over there dealing with legality when it comes to us posting content et cetera. Then there’s the photography over there… interviews there… tik tok content there… Nike have set up there… Adidas there… there’s several clothing or sports brands set up to promote themselves and find new brand ambassadors but they’re under strict instructions to not approach anyone, I want only the interested footballers to approach them instead.” She looked over to the booths set up. “Though they have been pretty sneaky with their little signs…” she chuckled as she watched one of the sports drink brands holding up a board saying ‘JOIN THE DARK SIDE LJ’ as Lauren laughed from afar. “Food and drink over there… let the lads there know if you want anything and they’ll get it. Lots of hungry women here… and I’ll be doing the pet interviews over here starting again soon, just having a little break for now. Oh and the podcast.”

“So you are starting the podcast?” Leah asked.

“I think it’ll be a great weekly thing to do to keep up with current events and have guest speakers.”

“Thanks for throwin’ my name out there,” Alex grinned at Leah. “I think it’s great. We’ve been chattin’ about it a lot and I think YFN, Jill and I are going to each bring something different to it. We were going to start today if Jill can get here.”

“She’s coming from Manchester?”

“Have you looked around? People are comin’ from everywhere. It’s crazy.” They shared a laugh at that as they couldn’t help but look around the packed room again.

“How did you even manage all of this?” Leah asked.

“Well we spoke to a few of the girls who were over last night-”

“-you mean the whole Arsenal team?”

“Basically. And they messaged around and then it sort of became this. To be honest, I think it was just perfect timing being everyone’s day off and most of the girls didn’t arrive until just before you two. Everyone was sleeping in and word was spreading. I’ve just been trying to stop the bleeding all morning. More food. More table. Backdrops. Cameras. Film equipment. Luckily our staff is so properly vetted – they’ve all jumped in feet first. I was worried we’d be drowning for a second, but everything’s going well…”

“You’re doing an amazing job…” Lucy murmured to her. Her heart fluttered as she leant into her a little more. She knew she’d be sleeping well tonight.

“Thanks, Luce. Thank you for getting everyone together.”

She was saying that for Lucy to know that she did appreciate her effort, and to try and take some of that guilt away of course.

“I’ll give you more notice next time…” She joked half-heartedly.

“I’d very much appreciate that,” she laughed in response as her phone vibrated. She looked down, wondering if it was Joe again, excited with her updates. But it wasn’t. Her eyes widened as she answered.

“Hey… did you get my messages?”

“Sí,” Alexia responded almost normally. “I would like to come.”

YFN had been trying to get in contact with her all morning and had invited her to their little open day of course, thinking it might be a welcome distraction. She never thought she’d say yes, though.

“Okay… um…” She turned to Lucy who took her key from her pocket and gestured to the phone, knowing exactly what she was going to ask. Her Lucy. It was these little things that made her adore her so much. “Okay, Lucy is on her way to get you. She’ll be there soon!”

“Okay. Can I bring Chiquito?”

YFN hesitated. Ridley adored Chiquito more than anything. He was a mini Ridley. Her little man. She’d left him with Alexia which confirmed what YFN already knew. Ridley was completely and utterly in love with her. “Uh… yes of course you can bring Chiquito. Everyone has brought their pets actually. I’ll be doing pet and player interviews if you’d like to but we’ll discuss it when you get here.”

She shared a look with Lucy whose thinking lines appeared on her forehead at the mention of Chiquito.

“See you soon, Blau.”

“See you Ale.”

She hung up and Lucy tilted her head in question.

“She sounds… surprisingly okay,” YFN murmured.

Lucy frowned. So did she. They both knew that was bad. Alexia had shut down her emotions which meant one thing… she would break.

Lucy sighed and leant forwards, her lips finding YFN’s, her hand cradling her cheek. The softest of kisses.

“I’ll be back soon, little one,” she said as she kissed her forehead and stood. “You all look after her, please. She’s fragile and refuses to believe it sometimes.”

YFN managed to slap her hip as she walked away, and Lucy was unable to stop herself from looking over her shoulder at her as she was leaving. She smiled when she caught her eye. It should be illegal to look that good, YFN thought.

Her attention was drawn back to the table at the eyes that were avoiding her. She sighed. “Lucy said not to mention Ridley, right?”

Their faces answered the question.

“Of course she did. That woman… hm. Well, because Alexia is coming, I feel like you all need to know what’s happening so we can all help the situation because I can’t exactly move quickly and people are bound to harass Alexia because it’s… well… Alexia.”

“Did something happen with them finally?” Alex asked.

“You know Ridley?” Leah asked Alex.

“The hot bisexual? Impossible to not when everyone is talking about her. You know how the girls are when a hot new single women enters our world,” she laughed. “And I sort of put two and two together with those photos online of you all at lunch the other day. They looked very friendly.”

“At lunch?!” Jordan asked.

“I handled it…” YFN murmured. “They took them down but a few people know. Anyways… please keep it to yourselves, just take this information and try to make Alexia feel comfortable…”

“They finally did it then?” Leah asked.

“I’m… not sure. Ridley is gone. That’s all.”

“Gone?”

“Gone. There’s a good chance you won’t see her again. She… does this. She doesn’t get close to people. She stopped by last night and said goodbye about 3am. I’ve been awake ever since. Alexia is still in her apartment with Chiquito.”

They didn’t say anything.

“So be kind to Alexia please and don’t mention it… and try to steer conversations away from relationships. They nodded, understanding and already empathising. She saw Jordan look at Leah with longing and then hiding her expression.

They spoke for a little longer, and others came over to the table to chat and introduce their dogs. Eventually, her phone started buzzing again.

“Lucy’s calling…” she murmured, wonderingly. She answered the call.

“Love, Alexia has someone coming from Spain and they’ll be there soon-”

“-i’m sorry,” Alexia cut off, presumably from the passenger seat of the car. “I didn’t tell her to come. I didn’t know she would come-”

“-hey, that’s okay!” YFN responded with a laugh. She wanted Alexia to be comfortable and give her everything she needed right now. It was a positive sign that someone had come to be with Alexia when she needed it. It meant she’d been talking and opening up. “The more the merrier, and more won’t hurt looking around at this place already.”

“You don’t understand. Little one…” Lucy’s voice faded out as YFN realised why they were so nonchalant about the situation. Across the far side of the room, one of the Lumos workers entered, gesturing the new guest inside the content warehouse.

She’d be lying if she didn’t say that her heart skipped a beat at the little figure of Ona Batlle entering the room.

#woso #woso community #womens football #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #engwnt #lionesses #lucy bronze #woso x reader #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #alexia putellas #jordan nobbs #leah williamson #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #fc barça #ona batlle

[swiftinthealps]

So obviously after the Joe breakup shit changed we had that ratty twatty and then suddenly travis. Like ratty twatty first of all made it seem like you know this person is like horrible yet you choose to be with him? Everyone called her (rightfully) out I feel like cause he is really a twat of a person and the whole ice spice collab to basically "save" Matty twattys image. I also felt like it was unfair of her fans to force her to break up with him I mean it's her life. And Joe during this time went through so much shit after the break up I remember he was papped and everyone made fun of how skinny he is and how horrible he looks (he had bags under his eyes on the photo) which is actually sad cause he lost his grandmother I think during that time and people were genuinely saying disgusting things and saying mother is looking so much better etc etc while Joe was having a downwards spiral. Again I understand no one knew his depression was that bad but fuck swifties can be more kind.

Exit ratty twatty enter travesty lord this man gives me the ick.

Swifties are blinded by their relationship but he is really not a good dude. I mean that video live of him pushing his coach and yelling? Videos online of him being openly racist, being a trump supporter (and also swifties are dumb they think bc he got vaccinated and bent the knee for black lives matter he is somehow Democrat?) honey trump is vaccinated as well. And just because he supported blm does not make him a good person. He was PAID to do all that performative shit.

I mean she has millions of fans, thousands of young girls thinking the blatant red flags of travesty is hot and shit. Tells me he can push her around too. (not to mention he supported his abusive friend that literally hit his wife.)

And it feels like she's forcing travesty tbh? Like girlie you wanted the art to be about you yet you let some man overshadow it. Because truly that's what's happening like swifties are more into him at this point and the relationship they made up in their head as Taylor.

This is where I got annoyed and took a step back. Each time they were seen Joe got thousands and thousands of hate just for what being introverted?

Then they attacked Emma (Joe's Co worker) for a cheating rumor THEY MADE UP and the shit they said were so genuinely disgusting she had to switch off her comments.

Then Ai audio dropped about Joe abusing Taylor and Ai videos circled making it seem like Joe is a cheater when he is NOT. fuck they even trended a sex scene with that Alison chick he worked with saying he said Alison (her real name) and not her character's name when he DID NOT. It was in the fucking series! This woman got slut shamed so bad she turned off comments too for literally WORKING with Joe. Swifties literally spread shit around that he cheated on Taylor with Emma and Alison when he didn't! And the fucking best of all Taylor was on the set while filming conversations with friends. She most likely saw it IN PERSON and they chose to say all this genuinely disgusting shit about Alison who I've learned is actually a pretty good person.

Here I got genuinely disgusted.

So okay again I understand that Taylor can't control all her fans but her silence while her cult mass harrases people?

Whats insane to me is Joe. Like the guy got so much hate because SHE CHOSE to lead fans on. When she announced ttpd everyone thought the title relates to Joe and Paul mescal

Joe got mass hate

Then the secret songs at eras being about cheating

Joe got death threats

ALL TO BE AN ALBUM ABOUT THE FUCKING SEWER RAT SHE CAN'T GET OVER?!

she literally took ALL the hate against Joe *knowing* she's releasing an album dissing her 6 weeks situationship is genuinely disgusting. I cannot fathom it.

And AND the only thing she could say about Joe is dude did not want to marry her bc he was severely depressed WHICH IS NOT HER PLACE TO TALK ABOUT HIS STRUGGLES?

like I am SORRY this man wants to d word next to her and she just didn't care and wanted to fuck Matty?

Her partner, that got her through her darkest times BTW, did not deserve this.

She let all this mass harrasment just happen to market ttpd. Like genuinely what the actual fuck. 2 innocent women Emma and Alison were attacked and called sluts for genuinely existing and breathing the same air as Joe. And the proof he did not cheat is in her OWN lyrics. (which swifties cannot seem to fucking read bc they'd rather attack Joe than admit this album is about a sewer nazi rat)

The hate Joe got made me cry. The disgusting things they said about him. Swifties literally threatening to bash his head in with a hammer or that he needs to hang himself and they'd enjoy seeing his body swinging from the roof.

Genuinely why would any person say this to anyone at any time?

And they made fun of depression like. What. The. Fuck. Just because Joe might not see it does not mean other people with crippling depression won't.

Oh and a side note she's still bringing up Kim on albums? Not just Kim Kim's CHILD?! leave the kid alone.

Genuinely feel like the most honest Taylor we got was during lover (a time which Joe helped her voice her political opinions and shit) and idk I just feel cheated on?

My whole life I've defended Taylor against everyone and I genuinely feel like she's showing her true colors now being with travesty and ratty and I cannot fathom how this is the same Taylor I'm seeing now as she was like a few years ago.

And it's not just Joe that got death threats BTW. When midnights came out and everyone gave honest reviews cause that evil Jack antonof little gay man ruined the production there were journalists literally getting so much death threats its insane.

Taylor gets (rightfully) called out and fans can't handle it.

She needs to address them ASAP. All these parasocial freaks. The people harrasing Joe. The people literally only seeing Taylor as a breeder for travestys children.

I can't genuinely I can't this is not how I want to feel about Taylor I mean I gave her my youth I looked up to her so much I feel so disappointed in the way she's acting yk?

Yes maybe she can't do jack shit about swifties but she can try.

And her staying quiet over Palestine? Her voice her one post about a ceasefire could change EVERYTHING.

idk at this point I can't stand to be around Taylor.

#anti taylor swift #free joe alwyn #joe alwyn #Swifties dni #anti travis kelce

[liveontelevision]

Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.

You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas

I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.

♡

Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡

Honey | Lucifer x Reader

No smut, just some cute fluff here-

♡♡♡

As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.

Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.

Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.

"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.

"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.

"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.

"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.

"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.

“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.

The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.

You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.

As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 

"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.

"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.

"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 

"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.

"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.

"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.

Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.

"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.

"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.

"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.

The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.

As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.

You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.

It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.

It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.

"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.

There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.

"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.

"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.

"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.

Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.

Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).

This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.

Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 

"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.

"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.

“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.

“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.

With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.

"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.

“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.

"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.

"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?

"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.

You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.

Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 

"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.

"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.

"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.

“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.

“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 

"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.

"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?

"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.

"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.

"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.

"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.

"Of course I don't.." He muttered.

"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.

"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.

You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.

"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.

“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 

“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.

“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.

With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.

“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 

Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.

"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.

"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.

"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.

"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.

♡♡♡

I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends

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[nahoney22]

Hey bestie! I love your work and as I've gotten to know you better, you've been an amazing friend ❤️

I was wondering if you could do some hurt/comfort/whump with f!reader x Tech! Maybe they have crash landed or been captured together or something. Perhaps they don't necessarily get along with each other but this situation forces them to work together and they discover that maybe the other isn't so bad. ❤️ Thanks!

Crash Landed 🌊

🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader

word count: 5.9k

Prompts: none

Summary: After you and Tech crash land in a remote Jungle, the two of you need to put your heads together and work as a team. Which is sometimes easier said than done.

warnings: Hurt, Angst and Comfort Whump Trope, Mentions of Injury to Reader and Tech, reader has a fear of blood, Kinda Enemies to Lovers, Reconciliation, Talks about Feelings, Huddling for Warmth, Heated First Kiss, Female Reader. Not proofread.

authors note: I love this idea! I hope I did it justice. And by the word count, clearly I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being and amazing friend @arctrooper69 🩶

You awaken, dazed and confused, your head heavy as your eyes adjust to the dim, smoke-filled surroundings. What's that smell? Is that... smoke? What happened?

Your body aches with every movement as you manage to sit up with a hefty groan, feeling the weight of gravity pull at your limbs. Rubbing your eyes with your hands to focus, you realise that everything is on its side, the walls of the shuttle caved in, sparks flying from broken control panels. What a mess. But, you're sure you were not alone before this happened.

“Tech?” you call out, your voice croaky before you start coughing, as if your lungs had filled up with smoke.

No reply. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” you mutter to yourself as panic sets in, the memories flooding back. The mission, the Imperial's, crashing. Yes, that’s it. You crash-landed. But where? And where was Tech?

Luckily, your thoughts are answered as a torch shines in the distance, followed by loud clattering as if objects were being moved. You squint through the smoke, trying to ignore the acrid scent of burning metal. “Ah, there you are,” Tech says as he comes into view, his armor scratched, and his goggles a little skewed on his head.

“What happened?” you ask as he approaches you, another spluttering cough escaping your lips.

“If you take a look around, it will become apparent that we have crashed,” he replies. Ah yes, still a pain in the neck even after both of you nearly died.

You and Tech had rarely seen eye to eye. Since you joined the squad months ago, he always seemed to be on top of you, trying to prove you wrong or point out mistakes. It was tiresome. And now, unfortunately, you were stuck with him.

Rolling your eyes, you were in no mood for his tone and began to stand. However, as soon as you did, your leg gave way, your knees slamming to the floor. A cry of pain escaped you, making Tech look up from his cracked datapad, his eyes widening with slight concern. “Are you injured?”

“Obviously,” you grumbled in reply, stretching out your legs to assess the damage, but you didn’t see anything at first. It wasn’t until Tech crouched down in front of you that he spotted it.

“You have a laceration on your calf,” he said, his voice calm but concerned, inspecting the wound closely, and you did a double-take at his words.

“W-What? Is it bad?” You tried to hide the panic in your voice, but if there’s one thing you hated, it was blood.

Tech didn’t reply straight away, his eyes inspecting the wound closely, but your nerves began to eat away at you. “Tech, is it bleeding?” You asked quickly, your chest heaving as the fear started to creep in.

“Yes,” he confirmed, not making eye contact with you before he stood again, “I shall look for a medkit among this rubble. Stay here.” Well, it’s not like you had anywhere to go anytime soon anyway.

You wanted to call out to him, you wanted him to stay with you, but that would be inviting him to babysit you. Just because you were scared didn’t mean you wanted Tech to take care of you, which he probably would not do anyway.

Luckily, he wasn’t gone long and returned with a battered medkit. Some vials were smashed inside, and some tools were of no use, but you were glad that the bandages were untarnished. You had to look away as he started to dress your leg, cutting away the loose fabric to your pants before he skillfully wrapped it up. “That should do for now. Can you stand? We need to get out of here as it wouldn't surprise me if this shuttle imploded at any minute.”

Comfort was not his strong suit, clearly.

“I’ll try,” you began to haul yourself up your feet, but again, you were too weak. “No, no, no, I can’t.” As you were about to fall once again, Tech tucked himself under your arm, a hand steady on your waist as he kept you up.

“I will have to carry you.”

“No!” You squeaked. No way in hell were you going to let him carry you around. No way you wanted to appear more of a burden than you already are.

He raised an eyebrow, unmoved by your objection. “This is not open to debate. You can not put weight on your leg.”

With a frustrated sigh, you relented. “Alright, fine.”

With a wince of pain shooting up your leg, Tech manages to slip his arm around your neck, hoisting you over his shoulder with little effort. Each step he makes sends a jolt of unbearable pain through your leg, but you grit your teeth, holding back any sign of distress, more focused on figuring out how the two of you will get out of this mess.

You escape the shuttle, and the scorching sun immediately washes over you, its heat oppressive and suffocating. The air is humid and sticky. Great.

"So, where are we?" you ask awkwardly, still draped over his shoulder as he trudges onward.

"Uncertain," he replies, which does nothing to ease your nerves.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally sets you down on some dry grass. The sun beats down, forcing you to shield your eyes with your hand as you survey your surroundings. From the looks of it, you’re stranded in a jungle, with a vast expanse of open water stretching out before you. You could be literally anywhere.

“I suggest we find shelter, food, and a water source promptly. Since you are in no state to do anything, this task falls upon me,” he says, not once meeting your gaze as he speaks.

"Are you trying to blame me for hurting my leg? If I'm not mistaken, Tech, you were the one who pushed us into that shuttle," you retort, anger bubbling over.

"I am not blaming you, although if it was not for your mistake on the mission I would not have had to intervene." He trails off, not seeming to care at the dirty looks being sent his way. "I am merely stating facts." He says simply, tucking his datapad into his pouch before glancing down at you.

Deciding to keep your mouth shut for now, you refrain from arguing, knowing it won’t solve anything. Instead, you let Tech take the lead because, as much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You are in no state to do anything at the moment.

Tech leaves you alone for a while, giving you one of his blasters as a precaution before returning around half an hour later, announcing he found a suitable place to set up camp. You simply nod before glancing over at the crashed shuttle. “Is there anything we can salvage from that at least?” you ask aloud, drawing Tech’s attention back to you before casting a glance over at the debris.

“Perhaps. But we will have to be quick-." Before he can finish his thoughts, a sudden explosion rips through the air as the shuttle suddenly erupts into a burst of flames, sending debris flying in all directions. You both watch in shock as the flames engulf the wreckage, leaving nothing salvageable. Never mind.

Once Tech had led you to a secluded spot under the protective canopy of towering trees. With careful movements, you managed to shift your weight onto your knees, the pain radiating from your leg causing you to bite back a wings of pain.

“You are doing it wrong.” As you went ahead and started to make a fire, Tech’s unsolicited advice on fire-building techniques went in one ear and out the other. Survival instincts was one of your specialties after all and so you ignored him as as you gathered dry twigs and leaves, arranging them meticulously into a makeshift pyre.

As Tech continued his lecture on the ‘correct way’ to build a fire, you struck the flint, the spark igniting a blaze that danced and crackled life. A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as Tech fell silent, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on the thick backdrop of the jungle.

“As you have accomplished the fire, all we need now is some edible food and water," Tech remarked and you hummed in slight agreement.

Carefully, you leaned back and against a sturdy boulder for support as you turned your attention to Tech, whose fingers deftly navigated his datapad. "Do you think you’ll be able to contact the others?" you inquired softly, wanting to hear good news right now.

Tech's brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered with the device, the soft glow of the cracked screen illuminating his features in the darkness. "If I can get my device to work properly and salvage the shuttle… then possibly. But…" His voice trailed off, uncertainty lingering in the air.

"You have doubts?" you pressed, concerned lacing your words as you watched him shift uneasily in his spot.

“Yes,” he says as he stands, tucking his datapad away again, “I have my doubts.”

You both fall into silence, something quite rare from Tech as he was always chattering away about something. But for now, he was quiet. Deep in thought. A part of you wished you knew what he was thinking, wondering what was happening in that marvelous mind of his and if he had thought about what would happen if you two were never found which was a reoccurring thought in yours.

“I will be back soon,” he speaks up, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” You ask, a little too quickly. But truthfully, you didn’t want to be on your own right now. Yet you didn’t want him to know that.

He watches you almost tentatively before saying, “I need to gather provisions. I will not be long.”

You didn’t protest as you watched him walk away, disappearing through the trees as nightfall approached. Sighing softly to yourself, you sat lost in thought, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across your face as you think back to all the things you should have done on that mission. Perhaps if you didn’t let your pride get the better of you, you wouldn’t have to sit wondering when Tech will return and if either of you will make it out of here.

You don’t even remember falling asleep last night but you do remember waking up to the chill that had kept you shivering throughout the night despite sleeping by the crackling fire.

As you awaken to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the dense foliage above, a stark contrast to last night, with a heavy sigh, you sit up. You groan as your body feels more fatigued and worn out than before. Nausea washes over you as you groggily inspect your leg, the sight of the dried and bloodied bandage from the previous day making your stomach churn. Obviously, you'll need to tend to it again.

“Will you need my assistance or are you capable of tending to your own wound today?” Tech's voice cuts through the quiet morning air, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. It's always hard to discern whether he's being genuinely helpful or simply blunt.

Deciding to handle this task yourself this time, you nod, expressing your intention to manage it alone. And even though you wanted to do it alone, Tech approaches nonetheless, the battered med kit in hand.

With Tech standing by, you cautiously remove the old bandage, your stomach turning at the sight of the open wound. Despite the lack of fresh blood, the dried remnants are enough to make you feel queasy. "You do not like blood," Tech observes, his statement pulling your attention away from the gruesome sight.

"Hm, how could you tell?" you mutter sarcastically, attempting to deflect from the discomfort.

“I have always known,” Tech responds cryptically, his expression giving nothing away as he crouches down beside you.

Curiosity piqued, you inquired further, wondering how he could have possibly known your hatred for blood. After all, you couldn't recall ever mentioning it to him before. “I… have observed your behaviour before and just so happened to pick up on it. I also recall you mentioning it to Hunter when you first joined.”

Hm, that’s… surprising.

You say nothing of it and instead allow him to take care of you. As Tech takes over, gently raising your leg and propping it over his knee, you can't help but notice the care he takes.

Despite his typically relaxed demeanor, there's a hint of concern in his actions as he tells you that you ‘may want to avert your gaze’ as he begins to peel the old bandage away.

Happily, you turn your attention to the leaves above, trying to ignore the stinging sensation spreading through your leg and the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Though, the warm breeze brushes against your exposed skin, offering a slight comfort amidst the discomfort.

“H-How does it look?” you ask, your voice strained, the anxiety evident in your tone as you feel Tech's careful movements.

“It appears that you have an infection. And I do not have the right resources to treat it.” Your heart sinks at his words, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach as you try to suppress the rising panic.

“Great.”

“I will assume that is sarcasm,” he hums before passing you his canteen, “I found a water source last night. This has been purified and suitable to drink. I suggest you do that.”

Taking the canteen from his grasp, your mouth suddenly feels dry at the thought of water. You take a sip and can’t help but grimace at the taste, the bitterness lingering on your tongue. “Are you sure it’s been purified?”

“Yes, I did not say it will taste nice.”

You roll your eyes and take another remorseful sip before passing it back to him, your mind inadvertently drifting to the state of your leg. It looked worse than you anticipated.

“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you blink away the tears, the frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. Of course, your leg would get infected. Why would a crash-landing be a stroll in the park?

“I agree with your sentiments.” Tech's voice is steady as he carefully applies a new bandage, his movements precise and calculated. “I suggest you rest.”

“No,” you shake your head adamantly, meeting his gaze with determination, “I’m not going to sit here and do nothing. I have to do something.”

He blinks at you, frowning behind his goggles. “You are in no state to do anything. You are injured and so-.”

“So I’m a hindrance?” You challenge, the frustration evident in your tone as you refuse to back down.

“In a way, yes.” He says directly, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he stands up straight after carefully placing your leg down. “Any further injury could lead to loss of limb. Or worse. We cannot risk getting that leg infected even more. Do you not think you have caused enough grievance?”

Anger bubbles at his words, yet, a part of you knew he was right. You were both in this mess because of you but sitting on the forest floor doing nothing felt like a last resort. “Can you at least just help me stand up?” you grumble, your voice tinged with frustration. “Please?”

He hesitates, seemingly torn between his concern for your well-being and his reluctance to encourage any further strain on your injured leg. However, the dejected look on your face softens his resolve, knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of it until he complies. Reluctantly, he extends his hand, offering you the support you need to rise to your feet.

Carefully, you put slight pressure on your leg, testing its strength. Surprisingly, it isn’t as painful as it was yesterday, giving you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to move around by limping or hopping for now—especially when Tech isn’t looking.

“Thanks,” you say stiffly, folding your arms over your chest, a mix of gratitude and stubbornness in your demeanor as you watch him pick something out of his pouch and hand it over to you. “What’s this?”

He presents you with a strange-looking leaf, its unfamiliar shape and texture raising your curiosity. “It is food. Edible. It is all I could find last night but will fill us with enough nutrients for now.”

The rest of the day didn’t unfold as smoothly as you both had hoped. While Tech ventured back to the shuttle in a bid to secure a signal to reach the others, you took it upon yourself to be productive. Somehow.

With the terrain familiar to you from extensive research in your past, thoughts of herbal remedies for injuries like the one on your leg flooded your mind. So, after crafting a makeshift walking stick from a discarded branch sturdy enough to support your weight, you set off from camp, determined to gather the necessary ingredients.

Luck seemed to be on your side as you found the correct herbs and plants without much difficulty. However, your return to camp was met with an annoyed-looking Tech, his frustration evident as he started an argument for your sudden departure and for not telling him where you were since comms were dead too; coupled with his ongoing concerns about your leg.

Insisting that you were fine, you proceeded to apply the herbal remedy to your wound, wrapping it back up and allowing nature to take its course. Though Tech couldn’t help but offer snide remarks whenever you winced at the slightest movement, your remedy proved effective in easing the discomfort for a while.

Meanwhile, Tech’s attempts to establish a signal to the others had proved fruitless, only adding to his growing frustration. He was normally very composed under pressure, but his visible agitation was somewhat unsettling, leaving you feeling both concerned and also quite upset to see him this way.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the camp, the atmosphere between you two remained tense. While you rested against the boulder again, Tech sat with his head in his hands, visibly weighed down by the day's events.

An uncharacteristic urge to ease his burden prompted you to speak up. “Why don’t you sleep? Try again tomorrow,” you suggest, breaking the silence and drawing his gaze across the flickering flames of the fire pit.

“One of us needs to stay awake and take watch,” he insists, decided on his decision straight away.

You frown, realising that you slept through most of the previous night, which meant… “Tech, did you not sleep last night?” you ask, your concern evident in your tone.

“No.” He mutters, “Like I said, one of us needs to stay awake.”

Squinting at him, a hint of annoyance creeps into your voice. “That’s not healthy, especially when we’re stuck like this. You need to sleep or something.”

“I am used to not getting sleep on the Marauder so I do not see why this is any different,” he counters, his stance firm.

Though grateful for his commitment to keeping watch, you can’t help but feel exasperated by his stubbornness. Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around yourself as a chill sets in. “To be fair,” you begin, “I kept waking up last night. It was way too cold.”

“Yes, I noticed,” he responds, his tone softened slightly by the acknowledgement.

“Oh,” you say softly before closing your eyes, allowing the weariness of the day to wash over you. However, you’re abruptly jolted from the verge of sleep by the sound of movement nearby. With a start, you almost jump out of your skin as Tech stands in front of you.

“Stars Tech!” You gasp, his sudden proximity shocking you. “What?”

“I want you to go to sleep.”

You blink at him.

“Okay…?”

“So,” you watch him shift, his movements awkward, “I will let you sleep beside me.”

It takes you a moment to comprehend his meaning before you pull a strange face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion and slight amusement. “Are you asking me to cuddle you?” The thought surprises you, but oddly enough, it doesn’t sound too bad right about now.

“I would not put it so conveniently,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of discomfort, “I am merely stating that I could use my body warmth to help you sleep.”

You’re taken aback by his offer, but exhaustion soon overwhelms any reservations you may have had. “Oh… well, if you’re okay with that?”

“I would not have offered otherwise.” Tech’s smile is small but genuine, and you can’t help but softly smile back as you both sit beside one another, gazing into the flames of the fire pit. Soon, you find your eyes trailing down to his bare hands, frowning as you notice they look quite sweaty; an odd sight considering the cool evening air.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you gaze up at his face, finding him engrossed in fixing his datapad. But something seems off—his complexion appears clammy, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.

Instinctively, you reach out and place the back of your hand to his forehead, gasping at the unexpected heat radiating from his skin. “Tech!” You squeak, startling him. “You have a fever? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He doesn’t even look at you, giving off a look like a character who had been bitten by something in those horrible horror holomovies and pretends to hide the bite. “Tech,” you say his name again, more sternly. “Are you hurt?”

He sighs, dropping his device into his lap before he lifts his arm to you, showing a bandage of his own that is stained in dry blood. “As I was maneuvering through the shuttle, I just so happened to trip and catch my arm on some jagged metal. It is nothing to fret about.”

“Oh, come off it, you’re burning up.” Tech notices the slight worry in your tone, watching you lean to your other side as you produce the herbal paste you used on yourself earlier. “Let me put this on.”

“Rest and water will do me fine-.”

“That’s funny, seeing as you just told me you’d rather me sleep than yourself.” You say with a roll of your eyes, taking a firm yet gentle hold of his arm before you start to peel the bandage away, holding down your nausea just for him.

Tech watches you with a concerned gaze. “I must insist…” he trails off as his eyes move to the sticky paste, clearly uncertain about your own remedy.

“Don’t you trust me?” You ask, and time seems to freeze as you both lock eyes, speaking silently to one another. His gaze is strong and, albeit, quite hypnotising behind his yellow-tinted goggles. But, you seem to snap out of your gaze as he replies:

“I do.”

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you drop your gaze to his arm, “let me help you.”

You’re gentle with your movements, applying the remedy over his arm with precision. You could feel his stare on your face, and so you slowly looked back up at him, his face so near you could almost feel the warmth of his breath dancing on your skin. “See? That should help with the pain,” you find yourself whispering.

For once, the two of you didn’t seem to be at each other's necks, both of you seeming to try and read each other’s thoughts. Tech was not the best at reading feelings, and as you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself not being able to read his too.

Eventually, you look away. An unusual heat started to crawl up your neck, and you didn’t think it was from the flame from the fire or his ‘body warmth’ as he put it. Lack of sleep and lack of food and water. That had to be it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, Tech?” You ask again as the drowsiness from before seeps back, and Tech turns his head away from you, inspecting his arm quietly before picking up his datapad once more.

“I am sure.”

The next day unfolded much like the one before it.

Tech grumbled about your mobility, his attempts to fix up the shuttle yielding no results, and the air between you both grew heavy with unspoken tension.

Yet, as nightfall descended once again, you found yourself nestled beside Tech, his warmth offering a rare respite, allowing you to drift into a peaceful sleep. And miraculously, your homemade remedy seemed to work wonders on both of you. You could now move with a bit more ease, and the infections on your injuries had cleared up.

But as you stared into the dancing flames that night, a wave of sorrow washed over you.

“You were right, you know?” you whispered into the night, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows on your face.

“About what?” Tech responded, his eyes fixed on his datapad, the soft glow illuminating his features.

Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay, feeling utterly helpless. “That it was my fault… with the mission. If I had just let you do the data transfer instead of insisting I could do it then…” Your voice faltered, choked by a sob that escaped your lips, startling Tech. “Then we would’ve made it out in time! A-and the others… Tech, we don’t even know if they’re alive!”

Tech stared at you wide-eyed, your sudden outburst of emotion catching him off guard. Yet, amidst your tears streaming down your face and your hands clasped over your head, he uttered your name softly, “Mistakes happen.”

“But they don’t with you, Tech!” you cried, turning to face him. “You’re always so good, so perfect at everything you do, and I… I just wanted to prove myself to you! I always feel like I am not good enough for you, and that’s why you don’t like me.”

For a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound between you, the flames casting a warm glow on both of your faces. Tech's expression softened as he regarded you with understanding.

“Not liking you, is not something that ever crossed my mind,” he finally said, his voice low. “You were determined, and that is a trait that is to be commended. It is true, I often find it easier to rely on myself but I am programmed that way. But you, you gave it your all, and that is commendable. Do not be so hard on yourself.”

You sniffle, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The tears keep escaping your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you struggle to contain your emotions. "But… because of me, you’re stuck here?"

Tech’s gaze softens, his eyes reflecting understanding. His voice carries a comforting warmth as he responds, “I am aware. But think how you would be if I were not here.”

Your mind whirls with the possibilities of what could have been, but you still feel terrible. "But we may not see the others again… we may not ever leave here." Your voice trembles with the weight of uncertainty, your heart heavy with guilt.

Tech’s gaze shifts away, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he adjusts his goggles. "We have to adapt to survive, we always have. And regarding the others, the probability of their survival is 89%. It is likely they are out there looking for us. And if I get the shuttle repaired enough to get a connection, I can send a signal and hope they pick up our coordinates.” His voice carries a note of determination.

You cling to his words like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your despair. How could you have been so stupid? But, his words held promise but you can’t help but ask: "Promise me you’re not lying to me?"

“I have not once ever lied to you and I would not start now.” His response is steady, his words a soothing balm to your battered soul.

As your tears slowly subside, a tentative smile graces your lips. "Thanks Tech,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I bet I look a mess right now. I’m a pretty ugly cryer.”

Tech’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he searches for the right words. "No, you look…” He trails off, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face. He reaches out, his touch feather-light as he gently brushes away a stray tear that glistens on your lashes.

“What?” you prompt, your breath catching in your throat at his unfamiliar touch as you meet his gaze.

“Like you,” he finishes, a little awkward but his words were imbued with sincerity as he offers you a small smile.

Emotion wells up inside you, a tidal wave of gratitude and affection crashing over you. Without a second thought, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He freezes for a moment, taken aback by the sudden intimacy, before tentatively returning the hug, his arms encircling you in a protective cocoon.

As you’re wrapped in each other's embrace, you find solace; a fleeting moment of peace.

As sleep beckons, you can’t help but nestle closer to him, finding comfort in his presence as you drift off into the realm of dreams, his steady heartbeat a lullaby.

In the days that followed, a significant improvement became evident. Tech’s progress on the shuttle repair was slow, hampered by the absence of his proper tools. Despite the challenges, both of your injuries had begun to heal, and the atmosphere in camp had lightened considerably.

Although the water still tasted like dirt, you were no longer dehydrated. Discovering some rare fruits that proved not to be poisonous added to the uplifting spirit.

At night, neither of you seemed to mind huddling for warmth. You would lay against him, listening to the plans and stories he had, especially if you begged him to tell you. Although they were very matter-of-fact and not overly entertaining, you found the tales of the squad before you joined enjoyable. You both no longer bickered, clearing the air of past arguments, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Although it was not like either of you had any other options.

But that’s not the only thing that had changed. You found yourself getting nervous around Tech. A good kind of nervous. When he was working on the shuttle, you couldn’t help but sit back and admire him at work. He was attractive, sure, but you found him more than that. He listened intently to you, offering advice and tips without seeming to mansplain to you.

So that night by the fire again, sitting by his side, you weren’t so surprised about the next set of events.

“What are you going to do when we leave this place?” You ask, your body twisting to face him as you rest your elbow against the boulder, hand on the side of your head as you lean yourself up to look at him.

He smiles, noticing how you said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, highlighting your trust in him. “I will most likely do what I usually do, get ready for the next mission set for us.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t want to celebrate?”

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

“Well,” you start with a soft laugh, “us finally putting our differences aside and not killing each other for one.” You suggest, earning a fond chuckle from the clone before continuing. “And surviving.”

He thinks for a moment, looking into the flames and then at you. “I suppose those are adequate reasons to celebrate, yes. Will the others be joining?”

“Sure,” you say with a smile but there’s a small swirl in your stomach as you say, “unless… you don’t want them to join us?”

Tech blinks, and for a second, it was like he was short-circuiting as he thinks about your proposal. Was it flirtation in your tone or had he imagined it? “I do not mind either way,” he explains, his chest slightly puffing out. “It would be nice to perhaps talk like this in a more formal setting elsewhere. Just us.”

You silently suck in a deep breath, a shy glint in your eyes. “I think I’d like that, yeah.” Your tone lowered, and you can’t help but notice that Tech had turned his body more to face you. Then, his eyes flickered to your lips as you inadvertently licked them, chapped but tinged with the sweetness of the fruit before.

You hold his gaze, slightly tilting your head as you take a gamble and look to his lips, then to his eyes. It was an invitation, and you hoped that Tech got the hint.

And he did.

Slowly, he sets his datapad to one side, finally letting it go as he focuses all of his attention on you. There’s a charge in the air, and you see him lean closer... and closer…

Your breath hitches, eyes slowly falling shut as he closes the distance, his nose brushing against yours before his lips meet your own in a soft, shy kiss. Leaning more into it, your hand finds refuge on his leg whilst one of his hands comes up and cups your cheek.

You sigh into him, heart racing as you feel him grow bolder. His lips, warm and inviting, meld with yours, igniting a spark that you both had been unknowingly kindling. His touch sends shivers down your spine as the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense. The jungle, the planet, the whole star system around you seems to fade away.

Tech utters your name against your lips, your soft moan of a response allowing his tongue into your mouth, exploring, igniting a fiery passion within you.

Gently, he lays you down by the fire, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows across his face. He pulls away for a moment, pulling his goggles off his face as he peers down at you, his eyes a dance of different emotions. “You are enchanting.”

But with a hunger that can no longer be contained, he crashes his lips back to yours, now allowing you to let your tongue meet his in a fervent dance; fingers tangling in his untamed hair meanwhile his hands roam over your body.

The next day brought a breakthrough. Tech managed to gain contact.

Overwhelmed by joy, you ran into Tech’s arms, jumping and letting him spin you around with a chuckle as you knew both of you would soon be saved! And better yet, the others were alive and safe too.

“I can’t believe you did it! You really did it.” You grin at him as he pulls back from the hug but does not let you down, instead cradles you in his arms.

“You seem surprised.”

“Oh Tech,” you say adoringly, leaning forward and giving his lips a soft kiss, smiling as he hums against your lips.

“I will never get tired of you kissing me,” he utters, truly in awe of how this sudden turn of events had happened. It was quick, but neither of you seemed to mind.

Last night was magic. All the bad memories had faded from your mind, solely just focusing on Tech and yourself. When all hope had seemed lost, your mistake led you to one of the best choices you ever could make. And maybe, that promised date would become something more.

Masterlist is pinned😊

Tags: @thiswitchloves9904 @lulalovez @the-bad-batch-baroness @photogirl894 @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix x @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup p @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter r @erellenora @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani

#bad batch tech x reader #tech x reader #the bad batch tech #tbb tech x reader #nahoney22 writes #bad batch tech #tbb tech #tech bad batch #the bad batch #tbb

[aurasplanet]

STUPID GRIMES carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — both are 18+, e2l, reader has claustrophobia, reader is maggie and glenn’s adopted daughter, i literally can’t write e2l this sucks so bad i’m so sorry

your arms are crossed over your chest as you look out the window. you and carl had to go on a run, alone, without ripping each others throats out. seriously, daryl left you a note that read ‘don’t rip each others throats out’.

carl had his music blasting through the radio, fingers drumming against the steering wheel completely ignoring your presence. you hated it. he always acted so unbothered as if you didn’t get under his skin. he always acted like such an asshole, criticizing your aim and telling you his is better. “even though i lost an eye!”

always wearing that fucking hat and those fucking flannels and fucking jeans that made him look too good for a total dickhead. it’s like the petty preteen feud started getting fueled by sexual frustration and made you both mad at each other for being hot.

carl hands you the list, “follow it, nothing else. we need to get in and get out.” was he ever going to let the time you saw a cute top on, in your defense what looked like a dead walker, and almost got bit?

“i’m just a girl, grimes.” he rolls his eyes, turning his music up. “plus i can defend myself, you can’t silence me!” with a smirk he turns it all the way up.

you see what looks like a run down store in the distance, pointing at it. in return you get carl yelling, “i know what im doing!” you hop out of the car when he parks, looking over the list quickly.

“you take the walkers on that side, i’ll take this side.” you point from left to right, causing carl to scoff.

“and if i want the right side?”

you huff, “okay smartass, take right. where you don’t have someone in your blind spot to cover you.” carl simply rolls his eyes, and without another word goes to the left side of the store. just as you thought, a few walkers to carl’s right were headed right for him.

you run over and stab every one of them in the head before they could get close, abandoning your side of the store. with the walkers all around you growling in your ear, you didn’t notice the noise growing.

“do i seriously always have to save your ass?” carl looks back at you with a glare before his face widens with shock. he grabs your arm and makes a beeline for the back. he saw the back room when you both walked in, and he hoped there were no dead waiting for you both.

he opens the door and practically throws you in, barricading it behind you two with the metal cart against the wall. you hear a growl behind you and whip around, there’s a walker in a mop bucket reaching out to you. you jam your knife through it’s eye, turning around to look at carl breathless.

carl chuckles and leans against the wall, “who saved who’s life now?”

you grab the mop in the bucket and place it on the walker’s head, masking it’s gross face. “what the hell? i was handling it.”

carl gives you an incredulous look, “handling it? the herd of walkers coming up behind you?” as of right on cue you hear their desperate hands clawing at the door. you sigh and walk around the tiny custodian closet, looking around for something, anything to help you out of this mess.

carl’s never seen you so antsy, he pushes himself off the wall and walks to you. his hand comes up to your shoulder awkwardly, rubbing it a little. “we’ll be fine, we still have our bag, our radios.” you nod, hating this side of you coming out. especially around carl of all people.

you swat his hand away, “i don’t need your pity.”

carl scoffs and goes back to his spot against the wall. “this is why i don’t help you.” you glare at him, leaning down to put your hands on your knees and breathe slowly. focusing on everything but the small room with walls that seemed to close in on you.

“you’re just an asshole, that’s why i don’t want your help.” carl looks at you with a monotone expression. you’ve known him since you met at the farm. daryl found you looking for sophia, and ever since maggie and glenn adored you like you’re their own. but with carl, it’s like he grew out of his menace phase with everyone else but it stuck with you.

“and when i give you the treatment you deserve, you go back to being one.” he doesn’t say a word, he just watches you pace.

“did you never grow up?” you can’t help but word vomit, it’s the only thing keeping you from spiraling. getting all of your thoughts out. “i mean, you clearly did. you’re so nice to everyone. why are you so different with me?”

that’s when carl remembers it, your claustrophobia. he remembered that one time in the prison, getting caught with him, maggie, and lori. even that room made you feel weak and petrified. it’s one of the only instances you remember him treating you kindly.

he gets close to you again, face inches from yours. he went to speak but nothing came out. your glassy eyes look at him in a way they haven’t before. you feel so close, the attraction he’d formed towards you was becoming overwhelming and he began to step back.

you grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close again. “don’t…” you look into his eye before hugging him tightly. “don’t. the fear goes away when it feels like it’s just us.” carl let’s out a ragged breath, bringing his arms up around your back. “we can pretend this didn’t happen later.”

“we don’t have to,” he whispers and you pull away, looking at him wide eyed.

“but we will. i’m not weak.”

carl shakes his head and grabs your hand, “this doesn’t make you weak. it makes you human, and that’s not common feature for people to still have nowadays.”

you scoff out a laugh, “when did you get all wise?” carl laughs back, his gaze is soft, foreign to you. you let a few moments go by, standing there hand in hand. it should be awkward, but for some reason it wasn’t.

you bite your lip before speaking up again, “answer my question.”

carl laughs confusedly, “i think i get it from my dad?” you give him a playful glare and slap his arm,

“not that, stupid.” you go silent again, scared to ruin the fact he’s finally acting normal around you. “why do you act so different with me?” it’s like the air got thicker, in the way it did before when you would bicker, but not with the negative undertones. just tension, a lot. tension you don’t want to name out of embarrassment.

carl licks his lips and glances at yours. “as ridiculous as it sounds…” his face gets closer, “i feel like i can be free with you. let the parts of me that had to be buried out.” his voice turns into a whisper against your lips. “i guess i don’t remember how to do that without acting like such a little shit.”

you both laugh but it doesn’t last long, his hand comes up to your waist causing your breath to hitch. “it got worse when you just,” carl sighs and closes his eye. “became too hard to resist. i was so mad that we were stuck in this frenemy limbo, i made it worse.”

“damn,” you sigh, causing carl to furrow his brow. “you’re very stupid grimes.”

“shut up,” he snaps, pressing his lips against yours. you hum in surprise, but bring your hands up to cup his face. your thumb runs soothingly over his scarred cheek causing him to pull away. “it’s gross, i’m sorry.”

“it’s pretty,” you mumble, pulling him in to kiss him again. he disconnects your lips and shakes his head.

“pretty?”

you roll your eyes, “carl, you’re pretty. your scar is pretty. you’re supposed to be shutting me up right now.” carl blinks and your lips are back on his. you’re more eager this time, impatient. you part your mouth urging him to deepen the kiss. you sigh into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck.

his other hand comes to the other side of your waist, pressing you against the wall. your back thuds against it, eliciting a whimper out of you. “sorry…” he mumbled against your lips. he pulls back a little, eye hooded and gaze trained on your swollen lips. “i like the sounds you make, though.”

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes #carl grimes smut #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #twd oneshot #twd fluff #twd imagine #twd smut #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes x fem!reader

[gabessquishytum]

Dream got turned around, honestly. He'd been in this city for concerts before, and his habit for walking around the venue after sound check to shake out any final nerves never got him recognized, chased by over-eager fans, and (hounded) into hiding. He didn't want to compound the problem by picking another public place, but he needed to get off the street so he could arrange a pick up.

When he slammed his way into the New Inn at a dead run he was only a few minutes ahead of the crowd - he really needs to stop ditching his bodyguard (and cell phone) - and he hoped he could convince the people inside to hide him.

🎤🍺🎤🍺

When the door of the pub slammed open & shut so loudly before opening, Hob was worried that it was those hooligan kids causing mischief again (as once hooligan himself, Hob understood, but no one messes with his inn.).

Instead he was greeted by world famous (infamous) music phenomenon Dream. He looked ruffled and a little scared (and achingly beautiful), and like he needed help. Helping is a deep part of who Hob is now - half the reason Hob's inn exists is to be a safe place for people who might need help,,, no matter who they might be.

Still Dream might be the most high profile person to ever need Hob's helping hand.

Hob's hullo luv snapped the beautiful head up, allowing Hob to see the rapidly spreading blush. The deep speaking voice that apologized for the trouble (will live in Hob's dreams for the rest of forever) explained that he was being chased be a large group of fans and that Dream needed to hide until they mostly left and he could arrange to get picked up before his concert. Hob never had a better reason to open the inn a little late.

Dream was trying not to stare at the pretty man with tattoos poking out of the neck of his open shirt, that seemed to be designed to show off a little of a soft-looking pelt of chest hair, and tight enough to -cup- accentuate sexy tits 😳. The hair up in a bun,,,,Dream is trying to look "respectfully," but wow is the universe paying him back for being chased through the streets.

ALASKSJSJA love at first sight is always perfect for these adorable idiots <3

Hob is super understanding and kind - he offers his (big, calloused, warm) hand for Dream to take and helps him come around the back of the bar. There's a cozy little nook where Dream gladly sits cross-legged, catching his breath... suddenly realising that he's more or less eye-level with Hob’s very shapely arse. Dream is definitely staring. He can only hope that Hob doesn't feel it.

It's a good thing he's hidden behind the bar, to be honest, because a couple of fans actually come into the inn looking for him. Hob sternly tells them that they ought to leave the poor musician alone, and that if they don't intend to purchase anything then they can skedaddle, please and thank you. Dream falls irrevocably in love with the stern tone of Hob’s voice. He can't help but imagine it ordering him around in bed.....

When the coast is clear, Hob helps Dream up from the floor (once again, those hands are gorgeous and Dream is obsessed). They share a laugh about the awkwardness of the situation... and Dream knows that he's probably got one chance not to totally blow this. He first asks if he can use a phone (to call his poor manager and arrange to be picked up). And then he asks if Hob would like a backstage pass to the concert.

Hob’s trying not to sound too eager with his "Yes, please!" but he really can't bear to let Dream go just yet. The idea of hearing the beautiful man sing is irresistible. And the fact that they're still holding hands at this point is a pretty good indicator of the fact that neither of them really want to be separated just yet...

The press get a few pictures of Dream arriving back at the venue, shyly smiling at a "mystery man" who actually waves at the cameras. But unfortunately, no pictures are taken after the concert when Dream is back in the green room - straddling Hob on the couch, kissing the breath out of him and groping his amazing tits through his shirt. Post-show adrenaline apparently gives Dream the confidence to take what he wants... and Hob truly couldn't be more thrilled about that!!

#the sandman #dreamling #cw stalking

[jaeminify]

a game of tic tac toe.

synopsis ☆ mark would much rather spend his afternoon lazing around his apartment with just you in his clothes with a movie playing on in the background, but hanging out with his friends around was quite fun too.

warning/s ☆ mention of food/amount of food being eaten but it isn't specific!!

author's note ☆ hii! this is one of my second works posted onto this account and compared to my jaemin one shot, this one is much more mundane and while a little suggestive -- not so as compared to finders keepers >< please stay tuned for more works from me!! i'll do my best to put out better imagines and one shots <3 any feedback is much appreciated!

Mark can't seem to keep his hands off of you.

While that may seem like a regular occurrence, his hands are reaching out for yours more than usual, his head rests on your shoulder at least twice as more times when he's sat next to you, and when you're seated beside his close friend, he can't help (he could, he doesn't care) but pull you as close as possible even when the three of you are sat in a booth across his other friends.

"Need something, handsome?" You whisper as your eyes scan through the menu he's holding up for you.

He has one arm slung over your shoulder, holding the menu on the table for the both of you to read. It's easier for you, but the display of affection is a little surprising for you.

Discreetly, Mark leans his head down to give you a kiss. He lets his lips linger on yours one last time when he gives you a second peck, then he kisses the top of your head.

"You're so pretty today." He exhales, resting his head on your shoulder as he points to the meal he wants. "Wanna share that? Looks good."

"That's too heavy," You pout "We have dinner with your family tonight. I don't want to be rude by not ordering."

"I'll finish whatever's on your plate baby, I got you." Mark laughs but finds your concern over the tiniest of things (to him) endearingly cute. He likes that you pay attention to detail, even if it isn't so obvious to him.

"You could just sit there and they'd love you," He reassures. "I know I already do."

"Mark," You laugh. "The way you love me and the way they do is completely different."

"What's different in the way I love you?"

"Mark—"

"Okay, lovebirds! Need you two to put your hands in. We're playing tic tac toe and we need witnesses." Yuta belts, smiling innocently when Mark throws him a glare over your shoulder while you laugh at the paper they show you.

Tic Tac Toe Tournament is written at the top of their paper; you don't know where they got it from, but it's written in Jaehyun's writing so you know who was the mastermind was.

"It's gonna be Yuta versus Jaehyun first, then Jungwoo and Taeyong."

"Hey, how come I don't get to play?" Mark pays more attention this time, sitting up to accentuate his voice more. The arm that was looped over your shoulder instinctively drops lower to your waist, resting there.

"You were too busy staring at Y/N to even hear our question," Taeyong laughs, looking over at the couple with fondness in his eyes.

Even if he does teases Mark at how dense he becomes to his surroundings when you're around, he thinks you two are a good match that he adores.

"Wish you could've seen yourself. It was like cupid shot arrows in your eyes." Yuta grins.

You lean back into Mark's embrace and pinch his cheeks, not thinking too much about how his friends were with you two. You were aware that certain boys disliked affection or being coddled by their girlfriend when they were around their friends, but you were lucky because Mark never minded that. He'd even be the one to proudly ask for more hugs when you were around his friends.

Jaehyun, who had grown accustomed to your antics, shakes his head with a laugh.

"Not even cupid could compare," Jaehyun grins. "Cmon, pick a side." Jaehyun slides the paper over to you.

"I have to pick a side?"

"Have you been to a football match, Y/N?" Taeyong asks, smiling to show you his words were lighthearted. "You either sit on one side of the stadium, you can't cheer for two teams."

"Or so they say," Yuta winks at you, making Mark throw a tissue at him.

"Okay, I'll root for Yuta and Taeyong."

"Whaaat! Y/N I've known you the longest," Jaehyun whines.

"I cheered for you during your FIFA game, I can't keep cheering for one person."

"Especially when she has a boyfriend, Guys. Right here, by the way." Mark says, poking fun when he raises an arm to point at himself. "Sucks that I'm not playing, Y/N's great support."

"Her support for you would be a pity vote."

"In tic tac toe?"

"Especially in tic tac toe."

"That makes no—"

"What did I miss?" Jungwoo comes back to the booth with his phone, having left it at the theatre hall they watched their movie in previously.

"We're playing tic tac toe." Yuta says, beckoning him to hurry back into the seat so they could start playing.

"I'm against taeyong again?" Jungwoo squints his eyes, "Piece of cake. Hope you didn't bet against me Y/N."

"Not betting." You point out.

"So you voted for Taeyong?" He asked dryly.

"...Yes."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Can we start the game?" Jaehyun asks, impatiently grasping the pencil in his hand trying to pass one to Yuta.

The four boys start the game in front of you and Mark. The two of you don't really have to be paying attention much since it was a simple game, but you watched with interest when Taeyong would make side comments at Yuta placing the X's in the wrong boxes while Jaehyun drew hearts instead of O's for his turn.

In the midst of their bantering, Mark rests his chin on your shoulder and subconsciously, you place a hand on his knee to let him know in a subtle way that you're here and that you're still paying attention to him even when you tell Jungwoo to stop smudging Yuta's X's.

"I could totally win at tic tac toe." Mark mumbles just for you to hear.

You can't help but smile at how sulky he's gotten, knowing that he's only showing a straight face to not let the guys tease him. He doesn't really care if they do, he just likes sulking to you more than them.

"You could baby," You say to him, low enough only for him to hear. "I'd even cheer you on."

"I know you would, Angel." He smiles, "With how pretty you sound in bed your voice is music to me."

"Hey," your head turns sharply to face him, placing a finger up between you and his lips, Mark has to bite back a smile at how cute you are, choosing to kiss the tip of your finger before he lays his head on your shoulder again.

He pokes your side to get your attention but your focused suddenly shifts to the match between Jungwoo and Taeyong. Jaehyun wins the first round against Yuta, the latter saying he wasn't focused because he hasn't played in a while.

"How do you even lose at tic tac toe?"

"You're living it, Yuta. That's literally you."

"Shut up and start the game," Yuta groans, passing Taeyong his pencil after hearing his friend tease him.

"You sure you don't wanna change your mind, Y/N?" Jungwoo pokes fun, drawing the lines for the game to start after he scribbles down his and Taeyong's name.

You shake your head at Mark's friend, "Nope. I trust Tae, I know he'll do well."

"Wish I had that confidence," Taeyong mumbles.

"It's just tic tac toe..." Mark breathes out, shaking his head when he sees how worked up his friends are getting over one game while waiting for your dessert.

Mark tunes out the conversation, only turning his head to look over at what you guys are doing when he hears you laugh, or when you move forward that Mark doesn't feel your skin on his that makes him tune back in to what the guys are saying.

Mark almost falls asleep when he realises it's been drizzling outside, raindrops pattering softly onto the glass pane he leans on, but when he feels you move again, he turns his head again and notices the way you've now brushed your hair to rest on one side of your shoulder. The clasp of your necklace sits prettily on your neck, making Mark realise you dressed up more than usual today.

Don't get him wrong, you looked gorgeous in anything you wore (much more when you were wearing his clothes, he would debate), but what catches his eyes is the way your shirt lightly raises the more you lean forward. Granted only Mark is privy to see such exposure of your skin; let alone your back, but his mind gets the best of him and before he can stop himself, his hand reaches out to lightly graze his hand over your waist.

You jump a little at how light Mark's touch is, but you don't pull away from your argument — whatever it was about with Jaehyun — to look at Mark.

Mark's a little dazed and empty-headed when he focuses on your skin against his palm. It's not like he was looking to start anything, he loved holding you. Maybe physical touch was his love language, but he liked having you near him. You did too, but Mark enjoyed it maybe a tad bit more.

When you finally scoot back to be closer to Mark after concluding who had won this match, you rest your back against Mark's chest and he locks you close to him, the hand that had been tracing random patterns on your skin only slid to the front of your body to hug you. Mark quietly watched the next game of tic tac toe begin between Taeyong and Jaehyun.

Looks like you won both of the bets; even if no money was involved.

You laugh at something Jungwoo says and Mark feels your laughter through your body against his and soon, like most days, he's smiling against the top your head, leaving light kisses on it.

The four boys get caught up in their game, demanding another rematch, this time between Yuta and Jungwoo.

When you tell them to handle this game on their own, Mark volunteers to play the next match against Taeyong.

Although Mark would prefer a quiet day in spent with you with movies being played in the background while the both of you lazed around in your most casual attire, he couldn't lie that moments with his friends and you were just as good.

His favourite people with his person; his most adored person in his world as of right now. He wouldn't want it any other way.

#mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #mark imagines #mark scenarios #mark lee soft #mark lee soft imagines #nct dream soft #mark lee fluff #mark fluff #nct dream fluff

[dazai-ritualist]

I CANT HELP IT! IM SORRY but we know Al dies in his late 30s early 40s so we can assume he at least got to watch his kids grow up into young adults? What happens when Al dies and reader is “set free?” Only to figure out her children aren’t all who they seem to be? I can see reader’s son possibly becoming a corrupt detective/cop and perhaps her daughter gets into fashion or becoming a teacher? Im not sure what Emi’s future might be but im very curious on your thoughts!

UH OH, SHE’S LOSING HER CONTROL!

[hold up! read the rest of the story first!!]

— and when it seemed like there was no more hope, the monster of the house was slain.

and so, 12 years passed by like a breeze. despite being trapped in this hellhole called home, it was all worth it. for the children, all of it was worth it. noah, just 22 and he’s already a fine policeman, keeping the people in line. and the family treasure, emilia— aged 15, and yet a smart little girl. starting her own little farm outside, from cotton to potatoes, and keeping the family afloat. such wonderful kids, it’s a miracle alastor’s manipulations didn’t rub off on them.

1933, times were tough— the stock market crashed, the bank had failed, and everyone was living off of rations. thankfully, radios gained more popularity, and alastor had profited off of it, making sure his little family was fed with a roof over their heads— he seemed to not only enjoy the newfound wealth, but also the suffering in the streets... suitable for a monster such as himself. and while he worked, you and emilia had used the cotton from her farm to create and sell dresses, your own little effort to the community.

still, that didn’t change the hell that was outside your little safe haven. it wasn’t rare for young men to knock on your door, begging for work. and while your heart felt for them, it couldn’t change what alastor had in mind for them. he’d bring them in— down into the basement. and that very night, suddenly there was meat on the table.

you knew what he did, you weren’t an idiot. he gave you that man’s flesh. but, you did what you had to do. for the children, so that they’re well-nourished. and against your better judgement, you followed through, serving what seemed to be a steak. your husband seemed to love your ultimate submissiveness, one way or the other, you’d give into his ways. although it made your stomach churn, the very thought of eating the poor man, it was hard to live during these times, it was what had to be done.

and, it was why you let your children on a hunting trip with him. “little emi’s first trip! you excited, lil’ sis?” noah laughed, patting his sister on the head. “don’t do that, you’ll mess up my hair!” emilia frowned back. alastor laughed at the two as he held you by the waist, “oh, those two!” he mused, looking back to face you. “we’ll be home in time for dinner, my love. i love you so very much!” he smiled, kissing you all over. you hated whenever he did that— when he acted like he’d done nothing wrong, yet you didn’t fight back. what point was there to it? 15 years, and he’s managed to keep you in this house, there was no more use in fighting back.

“okay. just keep them safe, alastor.” you said as he pressed his nose against your’s. he smiled against your lips and laid onto you one final kiss. “don’t you worry your pretty little head, my dear. i’ll protect them with my life.”

and, that was the last time you saw him.

when your children came home, they looked frightened. “m..momma…” emilia whimpered. “oh, baby, what’s wrong? where’s dad?” you asked, running towards them to make sure they were safe. “…ma…” noah let out. “dad’s dead…” he said, ashamed to look you in the eye. “he’s… dead..?” you asked, dazed. “momma! i-i didn’t mean to!” your daughter cried, pulling you closer to hug. “you didn’t mean to..? emi, what happened?” you pulled your daughter far away enough to see her teary-eyed face.

“…i shot dad…” she said, hiccuping in-between words. your eyes widened at her words. “d-dad was on his knees in the dirt, so i thought he was a deer ‘n i shot him…” she explained, wiping her tears. “momma, i don’t wanna go to jail.” she cried out. “don’t worry, baby. you won’t go to jail. you didn’t mean to…” you kissed her on the forehead.

standing up properly, you looked your son in the eyes, wet as he tried to hold his tears back. “baby, i need you to show me where dad is, i’ll take care of it.” you said. “y-yeah, ok, momma… i’ll take you there…” he nodded his head. “emi, go prepare dinner while i’m gone. momma will take care of this mess.” you told her as she nodded her head.

when you arrived, alastor’s body was mangled beyond recognition, the only way you knew it was him was by the clothes he wore— it must have been someone’s hunting dogs, that means it’s possible somebody already discovered the body, and is headed to the police station. the only possible reason alastor could have been here and on his knees, as emilia said, must have been to dispose of a body. so, the ground beneath you must have a corpse. only the lord knows how many bodies alastor could’ve hidden here. but then, you had an idea.

but, first, you had to check. you dug the dirt below alastor’s body. and lo and behold, was the corpse of noah’s friend-turned-enemy, kenneth. “d…did dad kill ken..?” noah asked, afraid of the answer. “i suppose he did.” you said, frowning over your own answer. did the years truly turn you as heartless as him..? “now, noah… if you don’t want your sister to be locked away in a correctional facility, you’ll help me. understand?” you asked, speaking for the first time with a strict tone. “y-yes, momma…” he said as he pushed back in about 3 feet of dirt. he helped you lower his father’s mangled corpse into the grave, pushing back the remaining 3 feet of dirt.

“now, dear… i need you to head back to your station and see if any hunters reported a corpse in the forest, okay? and, make sure those police dogs you have sniff this area, so that they can find dad…” you said to him, explaining your plan. “yeah, okay, momma… i don’t want little emi going to jail…” he said. this was wrong, but it was to protect your family. for the children, right? you won’t let alastor ruin the family even in his death. if those cops found out that emilia killed alastor, they’d try to punish her for all of his crimes as well.

and with that, you returned home. and when noah came back, he returned triumphant. “they bought it, momma. don’t you worry, emi. no cops are gonna take you away. if they try, i’ll kill ‘em” he assured her, hugging his little sister as the weight on her shoulders fell.

this is good, right? even though it resulted in alastor’s death, all three of you are free from his manipulations. and, yes, you framed an innocent hunter— but, it was to protect the family. after all, you raised such wonderful kids, they don’t deserve to go to jail. they’re so kind, they’d dirty their hands for each other. and… that’s a good thing, isn’t it? they’re loyal to their family.

but then, the guilt finally started to settle in.

and it weighed on your shoulders when they finally lowered alastor’s casket into the ground.

1891 — 1933

loving husband and father

he will be missed by all who knew him

the monster was finally gone.

#the corruption is supposed to be subtext 😣😣 #btw im totes willing to write another part when reader finally dies n sees my pookie in hell 💞💞💞 #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

[baby-fever-anon]

YouTube Clickbait Faces

Inspired by this post by @wolflyndraws :3

wc: 1727

Teagan has been out of the hospital for a week, and Dream has realized he has no photos of her with George.

He's taken pictures of her while she was in the hospital. He took pictures of George in the hospital.

But he doesn't have any of them together.

Which, to be fair to him, isn't really his own fault. For the first week or so of her being in the hospital, they weren't allowed to hold her at all.

And in the time they were allowed to hold her, they were both more focused her and spending time together than they were about taking photos.

As a result, the closest thing to a photo of George and Teagan he has is one of George watching her in her little incubator.

It's a good photo. A great photo even. But it makes Dream sad.

He needs more pictures of the two that will make him happy.

It's this thought process that leads him to pull out his phone during a moment of downtime.

He aims the camera at where George is laying, flat on his back with Teagan lays on his chest.

The shirt George is wearing is dumb. In the best way possible.

It says "Spawn Point" in cluncky, pixelated letters. It was a gag gift from Sapnap but George, like the nerd he is, immediately fell in love with it and has taken to wearing it constantly.

He says it's comfortable, and Teagan seems to agree with the way she's clutching the fabric in her small fists as she sleeps.

George himself looks asleep, eyes closed and breathing even, but Dream can tell he's not from the uneven pattern of his breaths.

He manages to snap two quick photos before George peaks his eyes open to look at him.

George rolls his eyes and smiles.

Dream prepares to take another photo, wanting to capture George's fond smile.

However, as he's clicking the button, George drops his mouth open. He brings his hands up and presses them against his cheeks as he widens his eyes in faux shock.

It's the typical YouTube thumbnail face.

The photo is taken.

"George, what the hell." He asks, voice incredulous.

George is giggling to himself, clearly amused by his own antics.

"I was trying to get cute pictures. Not whatever that was." Dream whines, not actually upset.

"L." George responds through his seemingly endless laughter.

The shifting of George's chest as his laughter rouses Teagan. She squirms as she wakes, letting out a soft whimper.

George stops laughing in an instant. He turns his attention to where Teagan has continued whimpering quietly.

"Oh, baby... " He coos. "You're ok. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Dream takes another picture as George works soothe Teagan back to sleep.

☆

As Teagan is getting older waking up in the morning is getting easier.

She's not quite sleeping through the night yet but she's getting close. Close enough that Dream and George are able to get enough sleep that they don't feel completely dead.

This also means that they, George especially, are in much better mood first things in the morning.

Dream is eternally grateful for this fact when he walks into the kitchen.

George is already up with Teagan, having gotten up when she did.

Currently, He's holding her in his arms. He's swaying back and forth and bouncing in circles.

He's humming under his breath as he does so. When Dream listens in a little harder he recognizes the tune of Kind of Love. The knowledge makes him feel fuzzy.

Teagan is giggling like mad, her little face lit up with joy.

He pulls out his phone. He wants to capture the moment so he can play it on repeat whenever he's sad or mad or even just if he wants to.

He manages to record in silence for thirty seconds before Teagan's loud laughter causes him to laugh. He's not able to contain it, the joy of the two people he loves more than anyone else bringing him joy.

The noise causes George to whip his head around. The smile on his grows when he sees Dream.

George turns his body towards him and holds Teagan out in front of him as if he's handing her to him.

There's still a large smile on her face and the sight of her daddy makes her kick her feet and squeal excitedly.

Dream ends the video and takes a quick photo.

At the sound of the camera shutter George's jaw drops open and he widens his eyes.

"George," He mutters, exasperated. "Stop making YouTube click bait faces when I'm trying to take a picture."

George drops the face long enough to say "Just take the picture, idiot." before returning to the face.

Dream rolls his eyes and takes the picture.

After he does so George rushes forward. He hands Teagan to Dream and snatches Dream's phone from his hand.

"Good morning, Tea Cup." He mumbles to her as he presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

George let's out a laugh.

"This is epic." He mutters, looking at the photos. He turns to show the phone to Reagan. "Look, baby! That's you!"

☆

For the past week or so, Teagan has been attempting to stand on her own.

She's gotten pretty close, managing to use the couch or a chair or just about anything she can get her tiny hands on to pull herself on her feet.

That's about as far as she can get though. The second she let's go she falls on her butt.

She doesn't let it discourage her, simply letting out a frustrated huff before trying again.

It both excites and terrifies Dream.

Excites because it's a new mile stone. She's growing up and learning new things!

But also she's growing up. She's growing so quick and before long she won't be his tiny little baby anymore.

There's also the added factor of how much more potential mischief she'll be able to get into once she's not longer restrained to crawling.

Him and George are watching her attempt now. She's already tried four times and she's getting increasingly frustrated each time.

As time goes on, he's getting increasingly worried that she's going to work herself into a tantrum.

As he watches her slowly pull herself up, he decides that if she falls again he's going to scoop her up and distract her. Redirect her attention until she's calm enough to try again.

He watches as Teagan pulls herself to her feet. She wobbles for a moment before she's able to use her grip on the couch to stabilize herself.

She looks to Dream and George for approval.

"You've got this, baby." George says to her.

She looks back and forth between her feet and the couch. After a moment of contemplation she let's out a determined huff.

Distantly, Dream is amused by the theatrics of their child. It shouldn't be that shocking though, considering how dramatic both he and George can be.

She let's go of the couch and Dream holds his breath as he watches her wobble.

Teagan continues to struggle with balancing herself for a moment before she manages to plant her feet and stand firm.

When she does so she looks back up at them and let's out a soft "ah" of excitement as she bounces gently in place.

George stands up before squatting down beside her. He looks up at dream and says "Take a picture." Before making the thumbnail face.

"Are you serious?" "Yes! This is a big moment take the picture!"

Dream scoffs out a fond laugh as he does as he was told.

After he does it George turns to Teagan and scoops her into his arms. He holds her up above his head. She squeals in excitement.

Dream takes a picture of that too.

☆

Dream has been on the verge of tears all day.

Teagan, his baby girl, has just graduated high school. As in, just walked across the stage and gotten her diploma fifteen minutes ago.

Now Him, George, Sapnap, and the rest of their family are pushing through the crowd looking for her.

Her graduating class is nearly three hundred kids. That combined with all of the parents and family who came means there's a lot of people to sift through.

Thankfully, after just another minute of searching, they find her.

Or really she finds them.

As Dream is scanning the crowd he hears a distant "Dad!" called through the groups of people.

He turns just in time to catch Teagan as she basically throws herself at him.

The two lock into a tight embrace. When he pulls away he cups her face in his palms.

"I'm so proud of you, Tea Cup." He whispers to her as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Thanks, dad." She whispers back, tears in her eyes.

The two pull away and she turns her attention to George.

George throws his arms around her shoulders and pulls her close.

He doesn't hear what George says to her but when they pull away their faces are both wet with tears.

Sapnap is up next and her pulls her into a bear hug and ruffles her hair.

She's so much taller than him now. When did that happen? He remembers when her head was just barely past his hip.

After everyone gets their hugs they decide it's time for photos.

When everyone herds Dream, George, and Teagan together they get a few normal ones before George and Teagan make eye contact.

Mischievous grins take over their faces.

"Do the face with us." Teagan says.

Dream rolls his eyes fondly.

Ever since Teagan was old enough to take directions, George has had her doing the click bait face.

It's as amusing as it is infuriating.

He never participated, having decided years ago that it was a mommy and daughter activity that he didn't encroach on.

Now though? With both of the people he loves more than anything looking at him with pleading eyes?

"Fine." He relents, fondly laughing as his daughter and husband cheer at their victory.

With a sigh he places the palms of his hands on his face and barely contains his laughter as he pulls a shocked face.

By the time all of the cameras are put away, all three of them are laughing.

#my writing #dnf mpreg #dnf fanfic #inspired by fanart #this was SO fun to write omg

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard- Chapter 5: Leap

knight!simon riley x queen!reader

cw: dark themes, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, *read at your own discretion* take care of yourselves & know that the world is better to have you in it🫶🏻

word count: 3.6k

[<<<chapter 4]

It’s quiet, when you step out onto your balcony. Peaceful. Finally.

The days had come and gone, three, to be exact- after Johnny and Simon had become privy to the king’s violence towards you. And, much to your chagrin, they didn’t seem to believe when you told them you would be fine, that these things happen, and you are not naive enough to believe that they would have never happened to you at some point.

It is a woman’s place in the world, after all, to serve her father, her lords, her husband, her king. Even a queen does not see any favor in this regard, at least not in a way that matters, no, not to you-

”Do you pity me, Ser Simon?”

Your question stumps him for a moment, as he watches you closely, following three paces behind you- no more, no less. He’s watched you stroll through the stables like this, nodding your head so politely, greeting the hands and lords, alike, with a kind smile.

And ever so often, you’ll peek over your shoulder- though, he doesn’t imagine a world where you could possibly think he wouldn’t be there when you cast your fleeting glances.

But pity you? No.. he only pities the king isn’t here right now, so that he could show the man how it feels to have a much stronger hand wrapped around his puny neck-

The thought brings a sneer to his face, one he’s glad you cannot see.

“No, My Queen.”

You stop in front of Johnny’s horse, a tall, leggy beast; his color such a deep chestnut, it almost looks red in the sunlight, save for a perfect white blaze that runs from his forelock to his muzzle-

“I suppose I should be grateful.” You hum with amusement, though your expression is anything but, “Some of us get a taste on our wedding night, hm.. At least I got a few years of peace. If you can call it that-”

He reaches forward without thought, a large, black clad hand coming down tenderly to rest on your forearm,

“Don’t say that-”

A quiet clatter from just outside reminds him of how unduly this might look, how familiar he’s let himself get with you. Simon’s never been one for physical touch, but the small, terribly chaste moments have only grown in abundance. A graze of your hand here, or a brushing of your shoulder there.

He just can’t seem to be close enough to you, and he loathes himself for it-

You watch him step back to a respectable distance before he continues speaking lowly, close enough for you to hear, but far enough to excuse if anyone were to see; you think about how sweetly the tickle of his breath might feel against your skin, and his next words do nothing to chase those thoughts,

“No one deserves that, least of all, you, My Queen.” It’s so hard to keep your eyes forward, your hands feel too idle, your body far too wired, too aware of his proximity, “When a man touches a woman, it should never be out of anger, it should never be to cause pain, or inspire fear.”

His tone dips into a growl at the end, one that causes a deep shiver to creep up your spine and your hair to raise on end,

“No.. Do not be grateful for that- a man’s touch should be kind and gentle, it is a man’s duty to protect and reassure, to give comfort, and pleasure.”

That same shiver turns impossibly hot now, your skin prickling with such a deep-seated desire to know exactly what he means, to know the implications that were implied. But, you could not know, and you know he couldn’t give that to you, try as he might. You wouldn’t let him.

His words ring in your head now, just as loud as they did hours ago. Painfully clear and repetitive, the feelings they brought with it wrapping you in a shroud, one that you can’t quite decide if you like or not- because you can’t tell if it brings you a sense of caring, or if it just reminds you how alone you are in this situation.

But when every direction you look in feels wrong, like a dead end, how else are you suppose to feel? What else can you do?

The winds pick up for a moment as you stare out over the gardens, bringing with it a thick wave of petrichor; the storm moving close enough to scent the air and fill the sky with brilliant flashes of lightning in the distance.

How fitting..

This is good, no one will be out, and the rain will come soon enough to wash you clean of your sins-

Maybe a part of you will stay here with the gardens. You did always enjoy when your mother’s maids would tell their enthralling tales of ghastly apparitions, of the souls who either chose not, or could not, move on to the afterlife- so they stay behind to haunt amongst the living.

The gardens were your solace in life, so perhaps you could find peace in them again- if you could not move on. Or perhaps, your soul might find its way home, where you can watch over your sweet Johnny, see your family grow old.

Poor Johnny.. He’ll be so heartbroken..

Sharp nails dig into the skin of your palms as you scolding your own traitorous thoughts. That’s not what you needed right now, not when you must be resolute and sure. Yes, he will be heartbroken, but he will be alive, he will live out his days just as you made him promise.

And he had promised to go home today, promised to settle the matter of his inheritance and speak with his father- though, it was surely not a one-sided promise. Johnny had only, reluctantly, mounted his horse after you also promised to come visit in two weeks time, just long enough for you to make preparations.

You hated lying to him, you really did, every second of it made you feel ill to your stomach- but, he’s gone, on his way home, safe.

But Simon..

He is standing his post right now, right there. Exactly where he should be. You could go to him, you could demand he take off his helmet so that you may finally, finally see his face, so that he could be the last thing you see before you go-

No, you could never demand something like that of him. What ever reasons he has for hiding his face are his own.. and what would you do if he did remove it, anyway?

Would you ask for a kiss? Or, just that he hold you, truly hold you, just one time-

You can’t help but to smile at your own innocent foolishness; a kiss? To be held? What silly whims..

You did write him a letter, too. And it was difficult, trying to articulate the feelings you have for him, for this man you’ve never seen, this man who by every right, you should not feel anything for- but, you wanted to try.

Because you hope, maybe, that your words will give him some comfort. You don’t want him to feel guilty, or like it might have been his fault- and you have a feeling not many people have expressed such things to a Ghost..

A quiet laugh erupts from your chest then, followed by a choked sort of sound, wet and syrupy and thick in your throat at the terrible, awful idea that one day you might be ghosts together. Right back in the gardens, walking among the fragrant flowers and tall hedges, you might find each other again-

With that thought, and a deep, shaky breath, you lift the skirt of your nightgown and step up onto the lower stone surrounding, lifting your legs up and over the intricate railing one at a time. A hearty gust of wind whips your hair back and forth, and you gasp as you truly take in just how high off the ground you are, your hands gripping the iron beneath them with every bit of strength you have to muster.

But, you don’t feel scared.

You feel an odd rush of excitement, no, that’s not right- it’s far more nuanced than that. And perhaps, it’s just that this is undoubtedly the most reckless and thrilling thing you’ve ever done. The small taste of freedom intoxicating, having rarely, if ever, made a single decision for yourself that was selfish in every facet.

It is a shame, you think, that it took so long. And what if, you don’t do this? Will this confidence still be here tomorrow? Or days from now? Months, when your king is back-

No, no.. don’t do that.

You feel the softest splash of a raindrop on your cheek, then another, more after that. It’s still unseasonably warm out, making the cool liquid feel refreshing against your feverish skin, and the stormy breeze a reprieve.

But, if it all feels so wonderful, like a child again, simply playing in the rain, why do you feel the salty heat of tears mixing with the raindrops?

And why can’t you tell if they’re out of sadness, or relief, or some horrific mixture of the two?

“My Queen.”

At the sound of his voice, the droplets no longer feel good or refreshing, and the wind does not help the burning in your skin because the heat has been replaced with an icy dread. He was not suppose to be here, he shouldn’t have left his post, there couldn’t have been a good reason to, and you told him, you made it very clear that you were not to be disturbed tonight-

“My Queen, don’t move. Let me-”

“No.”

You still haven’t turned to look at him, you can’t, not if you wish to keep the resolve you’ve forged. Because you know, one look at those damned eyes and you would crumble at his feet.

“Go back to your post, Ser Simon.”

He steps closer as you speak, the sound his movements muffled by your voice, and the now howling winds that blow wildly around you. This is something he never imagined to see, not now, and certainly not when you had left him outside your chambers door.

He knew you were grieving seeing Johnny go- no matter the forced smiles, he knew your expressions, he could read you like a book. But, this..

Once again he finds himself internally cursing his own ineptitudes because how could he make the same mistake again? How could he not see that he let a monster into your room and locked you in with it.

“Come down, and I will.”

You bark out a laugh, your fingers growing fatigued and your legs beginning to tremble as you hold on,

“Do not forget your place, good Ser.. You do not command me, and I have no patience for your bargaining.”

The words feel like the most bitter of poisons on your tongue, but you ground them out anyway. If you could just push him away, if you could make him go- then you can finish this. You can save him, save him from yourself, and the stain you would leave on his name, his very life.

“You’re right.. I’m sorry, My Queen. But, please-”

Simon can feel the edges of his nerves fraying in every direction as he speaks that one helpless plea, his knees feel weaker than ever before, his fingers twitch and clench together, longing desperately to reach for you- to pull you away from danger, pull you into his arms, and never let you go because he cannot lose you. Not when he’s only just found you. And certainly not like this.

He would drop to his knees and vow all over again, vow on his life, that he will make you see how worthy you are to be in this world, and that it is the world that is not worthy of you. But, he’s also seen this before, seen good soldiers lose battles that are quiet, invisible to everyone around them. Hells, he’s been to the depths of his own mind, and it nearly saw the end of him-

“No, Simon.” Your voice is surprisingly confident and steeled as you squint against the rain, your nightgown clinging to your goose pimpled skin and your hair stuck in thick strands across your face, “I do not want you to be here. I relieve you of this responsibility- and please know, that this is of no fault of your own. You are good, and kind, and you have been-”

A small sob wracks through you, knowing that you are just prolonging the inevitable, knowing that all you are doing now is subjecting him to your own unguided anguish.

So, so selfish.. He will be better without you-

“Look at me,” He calls out your name, and you almost give in, almost.

“No. NO. I cannot do that, and you know I can’t. I can’t live like this, but if I stay, or if I run, people I love will be hurt- and I cannot see that happen. I cannot live my life in fear of my husband’s hand. I do not want to be his plaything, or his broodmare, but I have nothing else! This is all I was ever meant to be- it’s all I’ve never known, but you can’t possibly understand.”

Slowly, you pry one hand open, and that thrilling rush of terror and anticipation floods you again, the ground below doesn’t look so far away now, and the gardens are right there, a pretty view-

”I’m so sorry.”

“No! LOOK. AT. ME!”

Something in his voice, in the unwavering, undeniable authority and desperation makes your head turn without permission. Through the mist and shadows, you see his familiar armor glinting in the sparse, pale rays of moonlight that have fought their way through the clouds. But, that’s not what makes your eyes widen, and your jaw to go slack.

It’s his helmet hanging loosely from the tips of his fingers, his face- his face- bared to you, dark hair matting to his forehead under the weight of the water, amber eyes intense and focused,

“Simon..”

You blink in surprise when he thrusts the helm towards you suddenly, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he all but glares back at you, and gods, you wish you could just see him better- see the soft angle of his nose in proper lighting, and the dark scar that runs across the bridge of it,

“Take it. It is yours now.” He demands, stepping close enough for you to reach for it if you choose, “I swore my life to you, and I meant it, every word. To defend you from harm or threat.”

One more step.

“To obey your commands. To defend your honor and your name. To counsel if requested, and remain silent and steadfast at your side otherwise. To never wed, take no land, and father no children.”

Again, he pushes it closer, looking down at it with anger and fondness before looking back up to you; and the most errant thought crosses your mind of how many people he’s ever actually had to cast his eyes upward for,

“My life is yours, My Queen. I.. am yours.”

No. No. You can’t, and you shouldn’t- and yet, your hand reaches forward, your fingers shaking, and your cheeks so covered with tears that you don’t know where they stop and the rain begins.

The steel is cold and wet, and you hardly feel the weight of it at all as you stare down at the angular cutouts for his eyes, wide and sharp; the raised crest that runs vertically from the peak of his face shield to the very back. You’ve always thought his armor to be such a beautiful amalgamation of elegant lines and aggressive angles, which seeing his face now, you can see how it matches him so perfectly-

A very unladylike shriek parts your lips the moment your fingers find purchase, Simon using your hold on his helmet to jerk you forward, and in the blink of an eye, a strong arm loops around your waist as he pulls you up and over the railing,

“Simon! No!”

But, it’s too late, and his hold on you is too strong. It doesn’t hurt, and it doesn’t feel angry, or out of spite- quite the opposite, in fact. While his arms are unmovable, he has you clutched to his chest with an arm around your torso and one supporting your legs as he carries you into the dry warmth of your rooms, helmet long forgotten on the cold stone outside.

“You can’t-”

He sets you on your feet, but his hands don’t stray far- and now that you’ve lost your height advantage you’re left in awe at how large he looms over you, holding your arms before he’s yanking the soaked gloves off between his teeth,

“I can.” Simon growls, placing a wide palm on either side of your face, calloused thumbs gently wiping the rain and tears away, “Go on, little queen, tell me what I can’t do, and I’ll show you exactly what I will.”

Your lip quivers pathetically as you look up at him, “He will kill us for this..”

You have no doubts of this, it is one of the many reasons why you wanted to leap from that balcony, so that you did not have to live this insidious façade anymore- because you couldn’t, you couldn’t have Simon at your side and not have these thoughts, these feelings, insatiable and unquenchable. And to know he could possibly feel the same-

“The king’s head would fall before he ever laid another hand on you.”

The air around you itself seems to grow hot and heady at his words, at the minuscule distance between his lips and yours; lips that are scarred and flushed a deep pink, so beautifully offset from his pale skin,

“You’re a mad man.” You whisper.

And, oh, the way those lips pull into a smile you have longed to see- his eyes crinkling around the edges. It is not a handsome smile, no. It is willful and amused, and broad, and wonderful, as a laugh rumbles through him,

“Now that, My Queen, I am..”

But maybe it is you who are the mad one, or it could still be the adrenaline pumping through your system, hazing your mind and your inhibitions, or that now prevailing desire to simply make decisions for yourself- to be selfish.

Either way, you’re the one who leans forward, wrapping your arms around his neck in order to pull yourself up enough to crush your lips against his. To finally feel everything you’ve dreamt of, the wonders you’ve fantasized, all of them centered around your guard, your dark knight. And here he is, right at your fingertips, his mouth moving so naturally, so perfectly in sync with yours.

Kissing Simon is unlike anything you ever felt with your King, it is reverent and gradual, like he wants to learn you, to know you intrinsically, intimately, to worship you first and foremost- the way his hands hold you so tenderly, his fingers tangling in your mess of wet hair, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss slowly and thoroughly.

But, too soon, he pulls away; sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as if to savor just the taste of you, his eyes darker than you think you’ve ever seen, and your name spoken like a quiet prayer, begging you to relent, pleading for you to keep him a honorable man- as honorable as a man like him can be.

“Please, My Queen..”

You look up at him again, his hands still holding your face as you lean away, letting your own hands slide over the sleek surface of his spaulders all the way down to hold his wrists, feeling his skin hot and damp under yours,

“You’ve felt the same things?” You ask meekly, ashamed of your own lack of self-esteem.

Simon tilts his head to the side, eyes darting back and forth with not only disbelief, but concern and wonder, another smile tugging up the left corner of his mouth. It’s softer this time, one that only serves to make you melt further into him as he speaks,

“Yeah, sweet girl, I have. I hadn’t felt anything for a long, long time before I met you. Got to know you from afar, got to see the way you treat those around you even when they don’t deserve it-”

He leans down to press his forehead to yours,

“You called me good, and kind, but I couldn’t disagree more. Because it’s only for you. You showed me what humanity can be, you gave me hope in what I’ve fought for my whole life, since I was old enough to wield a sword. I’ve won wars for old wretches, and young bastards, who’ve never even seen the soil on a battlefield..”

You hang on to his every word, relishing in his thick accent, memorizing every sound to his voice because you don’t think he’s ever spoken so much in one sitting,

“But you.. little queen, have given me a hope I thought was long lost. A hope for somethin’ more, a reason for the atrocities committed at my hand.”

He kisses you this time, it’s quick and soft, but somehow even better than the first one, somehow you feel more behind it, you feel so much of him that it steals the breath from your lungs,

“I’m goin’ to get you out of here. I swear it.”

thank you for being here 🥹

[chapter 6>>>]

#fic: the queens guard #medieval au #cod mw2 #but make it medieval #i swoon for them #this one’s dark #call of duty #simon x reader #knight!ghost #im down horrendously bad for this man #simon ghost riley #i can just hear the way he says my queen and it ruins me every time #simon riley x reader #reader is the queen #and i love her #also on ao3

[kissitbttr]

a sweet moment of frat!miguel and muñeca that we rarely get to see

to miguel, relationships are complex.

he’s not built for one and never meant to. the idea of having to commit to one person when he still wants to have fun sounds like a real torture. the constant clinging and demands of going out on dates just enough to make him scowl. like what’s the point of it all? spending money on gifts or valentines dates just seem to be a waste of time.

until she entered the picture. gone were the days where his money were spent on booze and gears.

now, he’s having the ultimate pleasure of spoiling his girlfriend, walking her to classes, stay during cheerleading practice and begging her to stay over at the frat house. all that he did out of consciousness,

even curating the image of what their wedding would look like in the future.

yeah. that much.

the couple decides to have a small picnic at the campus park during their free period. whereas the rest of the students are busy with studying and walking from building to building, these two lovers find the spare time to be with each other.

“i love hibiscus flowers. they’re pretty” muñeca mentions, laying on her side with palm supporting the head. “sunflowers too—much better than a rose”

miguel fixes himself a smile upon his beautiful girlfriend, deciding to mirror her action by laying on his side as well. “how abouut cake flavor, cariño?”

she looks over at him and the sight is making her drool. the shirt that he’s sporting compliments his rippling muscles, not to mention the few unbuttons at the top showcasing a bit of his chest hair and gold chain around the neck.

“are you going somewhere with this?” she questions with a smile, seeing him shrug,

“just asking” he replies, eyes staring intently into hers. “i want to know what my girl likes—because if she mentions vanilla then i’m out”

muñeca giggles, head shaking at the ridiculous assumption. “i would never!” miguel grins even wider hearing the sound of that laugh. “i love red velvet—and anything fruit infused desserts”

he nods, making a mental note on that one. “what if I prefer chocolates?”

“then we can have both” she answers casually, hand sneaking through its way towards the slope of his calloused one. “chocolates and raspberries are good combo, anyway—not white or milk chocolates though. dark is the way”

“that’s my girl” miguel praises, his thumb drawing circles around her skin. “i love this dress on you, by the way—wear it often”

“you say that pretty much about everything i wear miggy!” she smiles, kissing his jaw. “you’re biased”

“is it my fault that my girlfriend looks good in everything?” he asks as if he’s proving his innocence, tightening the hold of his hand around hers, “got the prettiest girl on campus by my side and there’s no way i’m missing the chance to let her know how hot she is”

her cheeks warm at the compliment, looking down momentarily to hide the large grin that’s threatening to break through, “you just want to fuck me” it’s a joke,

“is it working?” he jokes back with a raised eyebrow, earning himself a punch on the shoulder making him grunt and laugh, “caray, ma!—you sure got some strength in you”

“thanks to my handsome linebacker’s workout routine” she winks, curling a loose hair around his forehead,

“put me in a headlock next, i beg of you” he says, and she can’t tell if he’s really joking or serious but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter,

“ugh! you’re so unserious sometimes!”

they both share a laugh after. “okay back to question number—five!” he picks a chocolate covered strawberry with his free hand off the plate and pop it in his mouth. “dream destination?”

her lips curl into a thinking mode and so are her eyebrows, clutching their interlocked hand against her chest. “hmm—bali, malaysia, and rome”

miguel hums, nodding as he looks down. she tilts her head to the side with confusion written all over her face, watching him. “what is this, intervention?”

“what, no. can’t a guy ask his girl a few things to get to know her better?”

“miggy, we fuck at least three times a day, i think we already went past that kind of formalities” she rolls her eyes playfully, seeing how he shrugs innocently and grin. “so? what is this about? first it was about my favorite decorations, second it’s about my favorite dish and drinks of choice and then third, and fourth—“ she trails off, watching the shy smile on his face appears as he avoids her gaze,

“what?” she asks confused, yet his smile is contagious and that makes her smile too,

“just thinking about how everything would look like for our wedding someday”

“a wedding?”

“y-yeah” he scratches the back of his neck nervously, “i’m making notes, you know? i trust them all with you, muñeca—want you to handle everything”

her heart somehow blooms in her chest, gaze softening when he mentions about marriage. tying a knot. living happily ever after. with her.

she feels the little girl inside of her is squealing at the thought of a prince charming asking her for a hand. like ones she read on fairy tales and bedtime stories.

he wants to marry her

upon hearing no response, he feels the embarrassment creeping in as he gulps, his hand trembling slightly at the thought of being rejected. he would probably cry if she told him that she doesn’t see the future together.

“look you don’t—“

“baby” she coos, her hand moving to cup his face. “you want to marry me?”

he feels somehow at ease when he hears the tone of her voice, realizing that he may not look like an eager idiot whom he thought he’d be in front of her, “i do” his response is firm and set. “do you?”

the way he’s looking at her with hopeful eyes makes her wish that they’re both alone right now, just so she could straddle his lap and smother him with kisses. but seeing that they’re not and at a public space, especially on campus, she’s holding herself back.

instead of that, she cups his face before leaning in for a kiss. miguel sighs into her mouth, kissing her back with much more passion as he snakes a hand around her waist. the kiss is somehow becoming more intense and hungry. he then moves himself to move on top of her in swift motion, making her giggle at his enthusiasm.

what’s supposed to be a simple kiss, turns into a heavy makeout session. she squeezes both his shoulders as a gesture to take it easy, not wanting the head of security to catch them in the act. again.

miguel huffs when she pulls away, but the taste of her lips remains to be the reason why a lovesick smile attached on his features.

“of course i do” she replies, “just make sure that the ring is ready after we graduate, o’hara” and miguel will hold onto that. he will buy the most expensive and prettiest ring ever for her.

she swears that the love she has for him is bigger than anything. he had changed a lot for the better and she couldn’t be more proud. miguel had learned so many things during the times he had shared with her, and it would be so crazy to think that she didn’t bring any positive impact in his life.

her existence is the key of him growing. not just love but as a person as well. and he would argue to hell and back with anyone just to prove the point of his gratitude to her will always be bigger than this girl,

none of these two lovers knew what fate had in stored for them. to have a committed relationship with someone wasn’t in either’s bucket list, let alone getting married. but everything seems to have changed.

before this, they didn’t even know each other. there had been a time where miguel didn’t know muñeca exist and vice versa. and there’s some sort of twinge rattle in his chest, knowing that someone else could be loving her instead of him.

he doesn’t like that. at all.

the negative thought that plagued into his mind somehow gets pulled when he feels her soft padded thumb traces his lower lip. his pupils dilating when he looks at her, with the pretty smile that he never gets tired of. seeing that often makes his heart fail to find a steady rhythm.

gaze in her eyes speaks so kindly to him. a look in which helps to remind him that she belongs to him and so does he to her. and miguel finds himself exhale a breath of relief yet once again.

‘she is so unbelievably gorgeous and all mine’

#frat!miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara blurbs

[sissylittlefeather]

We Can Make the Morning

(or Angel Take 7)

A one-shot

A/N: I've had this idea for a while and just decided to go ahead and write it the other day while I was watching Elvis On Tour. I hope y'all enjoy this 1972 Elvis x fem!reader one-shot!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, handjob, ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), possible concussion

Word count: ~3.7k

Greensboro, North Carolina. You've lived here your whole life. And you've been an Elvis fan since you heard his first record at the tender age of fifteen. Now you're in your early thirties and you finally find yourself at one of his shows. You've never managed to go to one before and something about this feels like destiny. Still, the best you could afford is a seat at the front of the balcony, but you're next to where he'll walk into and out of the arena. If you push, you might be able to get a pretty good glimpse of him, and that's all you've ever really wanted. You dream of more, but you know better than to think he's going to notice you or anything.

April 14th, 1972 is show day, finally. You get dressed and try to ignore your nerves as you fix your hair and swipe on your makeup. You opt for your favorite bell bottoms and a cropped peasant blouse. It's not the dressiest outfit you own, but it flatters you and shows off all your best assets. Not that it matters much. He'll never see you.

At the arena, you make your way to your seat and try to survey whether you'll be able to get to a place where you can really see him up close. Eventually the lights go down and the music starts up. You head over to the railing, but there's a hundred girls between you and the tunnel. There's no way you can fight through them this time. You'll have to try again at the end of the concert. You head back to your seat with a new determination.

The show is incredible.

He's wearing a dark blue jumpsuit with a belt that has an owl on it, as he points out during one of the songs. Even as far away as you are, you can tell he looks amazing. His voice is on point and his performance is unmatched. You sit in silence with your lips parted slightly and your eyes wide. It's like he's made of stardust. And you're not going to let him pass by without seeing him up close.

He ends the show with Can't Help Falling In Love and then bows with his arms held out holding the silver cape. You know he's going to move fast through the tunnel, so you run to the railing and push your way through all the women gathered there. It's hot and hard to breathe and your heart is pounding. You're pressed up against the railing where it hits you just below the waist. Your position on your platform boots is precarious but you lean over anyway, just in case he reaches up. You feel yourself getting lightheaded from the excitement, but you're not going to miss this for anything, no matter how you feel. Just then, you see him headed for the tunnel. Your ears start ringing and the edges of your vision go dark. You can't believe it's really him. As the blackness envelops you, someone behind you pushes on your back and you feel yourself falling...

******

On stage, Elvis knows he's putting on a hell of a show. The energy from the crowd is electric and the camera crew seems excited by the footage they're collecting. In truth, he's ready to be done with this damn movie. Ready to be done with this damn tour. He enjoys the stage portion but everything in between is grueling. And honestly, the loneliness has been setting in pretty hard for him, especially in the middle of the night. Sometimes he picks up a girl at a show, but most of his encounters are empty. And even if he does find someone he likes, the conversation is lacking or she's so starstruck she can't do much more than giggle or try way too hard to impress him in bed. He longs for a real connection.

On stage, though, he lives his dream every night. This show in North Carolina is particularly satisfying for some reason and he comes off the stage with a smile on his face. He makes his way quickly to the car, heading for the tunnel lined with screaming fans. Looking up briefly, something strange captures his eye.

He reacts quickly without thinking, throwing his arms out to catch you just before you hit the ground. Somehow, you fall perfectly into his grasp and he holds you like a baby. He's stopped running, so his entourage encircles him to urge him forward.

"You can't stop here, man!"

"Put her down; let's go!" He looks down at you in his arms and realizes you're out cold.

"I can't! She's out, guys!"

"You're gonna have to drop her!" He shakes his head vigorously.

"No. I'm bringin' her with me." The guys make eye contact across him. They know when he's like this there's no arguing with him. He starts moving forward again with you in his arms.

At the car, the guys try again to get him to drop you with a security guard, but he refuses.

"It's my fault she's like this! I'm not leavin' her!" He gets into the backseat of his car, holding you on his lap. The other guys roll their eyes and squeeze in with him. It was a tight fit even before you were there, so now it's almost impossible for them to smash into the car. He wraps his arms around you tighter and holds you to him while the guys pile in. Sweat from the show slides down his face and he looks at you in his arms. The gentle lines of your features are intriguing and he wonders what your name is. For a moment, he forgets where he is and does something a little strange. He pulls your face to his and presses his lips to your forehead. That's when your eyelids flutter and you stir.

******

You sit up quickly and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You're in a car of some kind with a bunch of men you don't recognize. You try desperately to remember how you got here.

"Hey, honey. Are you alright?" When you hear his voice, you whip your head around.

"Oh." You answer breathlessly. "It's you."

He chuckles softly and his smile almost causes you to pass out again.

"It's me. I'm sorry, honey, I just didn't want to leave you there in that state."

"State?"

"Do you remember falling over the wall?" You cover your face in embarrassment.

"Oh my god..." He laughs softly again.

"Honey, it's okay. It happens."

"This has happened before?!"

"Well, not exactly..." One of the guys cuts in and you realize you're sitting on Elvis's lap with his arms around you. You fight to keep your composure.

"We're here, boss." The door opens and the guys climb out of the car until it's just you and Elvis.

"I'd like you to stay, so I can keep an eye on you. Is that okay?"

"I'm not sure it's necessary..."

"I say it is. Come on." You're not going to argue with him. He pats your bottom and you climb out of the car, followed closely by him.

On the sidewalk, you stumble a little, still woozy from passing out. He wraps his arm around your waist and steadies you.

"Do I need to carry you, honey?" The concern on his face is so endearing you almost melt into the ground.

"N-no, I think I'm okay."

"Alright. I'm gonna keep a hold of ya, though." You nod and he smiles genially. Then, the two of you make your way into the hotel surrounded by his bodyguards. At the elevator, he tries to dismiss them, and they refuse to leave him alone, but when he speaks sternly and insists that he'd like to be left alone, they listen and watch as he gets on the elevator with just you. Once the doors slide shut, he turns to you and puts both hands on your hips.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Oh! I'm y/n. I'm really sorry about this."

"Don't be." He waves his hand to dismiss your apology. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Do you remember if you hit your head on the way down?"

"I don't. I think I might've been out before I fell."

"You still might've hit your head." The elevator dings and the doors open. He keeps one arm around your waist and ushers you down the hallway to his room. You look at him in his jumpsuit and wonder where he might possibly have a key stashed. He bends down and pulls it out of his boot, standing and unlocking the door. You stumble a little walking across the threshold and he steadies you again, watching you with even more concern. Once you're in the room with the door shut behind you, he seats you next to him on the couch. You yawn and blink slowly. Somehow, you're exhausted.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Mhmm." You answer, yawning again.

"Okay. We need to keep you awake. If you hit your head, you shouldn't go to sleep."

"I don't feel like I hit my head." He reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek.

"I'm not willing to take any chances, honey." You nod slowly and notice that his eyes flick down to your lips. He clears his throat and pulls his hand back. You're a little surprised that he almost seems shy.

"You're sure I can't just lay down?"

"No, baby, you gotta stay awake." He looks down at himself and then to the bathroom. "I need to shower, though. But I hate to leave you alone."

"I really think I'm okay." He looks at skeptically as you yawn yet again.

"No. You're comin' with me. You can wear your underwear in the shower. I won't touch you. C'mon." He makes you stand up off of the couch and takes your hand, walking you to the bathroom. You want to tell him that you'd happily get in the shower with him naked, but you don't. He puts you in first, facing the back of the shower and then you hear him undress and get in behind you. You're dying to peek and see what he looks like without his jumpsuit, but he's being so kind that you can't violate his privacy like that. Still, the knowledge that Elvis Presley is naked behind you in the shower makes you a little crazy. Just when you think it can't get much more endearing, he starts humming. Your heart melts when his humming turns to quiet singing and you're dying to turn around and wrap him in your arms. He's so much more precious in person than you ever dreamed he could be.

You're lost in a reverie when the shower turns off and you feel him turn to face you. You can tell he's looking at you and you want to turn around so badly. Everything inside you is screaming at you to just turn around. But it's like you're frozen where you stand. When he kisses your shoulder, though, your head rolls to the side and you're desperate for him to touch you. He doesn't though. Instead, he whispers.

"You stay here, baby. I'll get you a towel." He gets out of the shower and hands you a towel. "There's a robe hanging on the door. I'm right outside."

You dry off and slip out of your wet undergarments, wrapping the fluffy robe around yourself. When you open the door, he's sitting on the couch with a towel around his waist. He looks up at you in the robe and swallows deeply. You sit on the edge of the bed and smile awkwardly. He returns your smile.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep."

"Yes, sir." He chuckles softly and moves back to the bathroom. You settle against the pillows and hastily break your promise to stay awake. The warmth of rest washes over you and your eyes close.

******

Elvis puts you in the shower in your underwear facing away from him. It's impossible for him not to notice your figure, though. The curve of your ass in your white panties about drives him crazy. He strips naked and turns the shower on. Through the whole shower, he tells himself not to get aroused just at your proximity. Once he's finished, he pulls the handle to make the water stop and then turns to face you. Your hair and your body are wet from the shower and he wants to touch you so badly that it almost hurts. Without thinking, he leans down and presses his lips to your shoulder. It's an indulgence he should have resisted, but something about you is intoxicating. He breathes deeply and pulls himself away to get you a towel. Once he does, he walks out into the room and sits on the couch. What is it about you that has him so out of sorts?

When you come out in the robe, it takes all of his self control to keep from ripping it off of you. But he wants more from this. He wants to know you, not just fuck you and move on.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep." You give him a salute and he chuckles, making his way back to the bathroom. After about thirty seconds, though, he has a bad feeling. He doesn't even get his pants on and walks back into the room still in his towel.

He was right. You're asleep.

He moves to the bed quickly and sits next to you, shaking you gently.

"Hey, baby, wake up." You don't stir and he starts to panic. He thinks back to how he woke you up in the car and leans in and kisses your forehead. Still, you stay asleep. He kisses your cheek and then finally, he presses his lips to yours. Finally, your eyes flutter open and he smiles. "You're back."

******

"I am. You kissed me."

"I'm sorry; I was getting desperate." He looks into your eyes and your smiles fade.

"Do it again." You whisper and he nods, pulling your face back into his. He crashes his lips into yours and the kiss moves to a fever pitch as he parts your lips with his and slips his tongue into your mouth. He puts both hands on your cheeks and you sit up on your knees, ready to crawl into his lap. Thats when he notices his erection under the towel. It's impossible to hide and he pulls away, looking down, and trying to push his cock down to make it less obvious.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, honey."

"Don't be. It's okay." He shakes his head.

"No. It's not. I brought you up here just to keep an eye on you and now this." He's ashamed at his reaction to you. He feels your finger under his chin and you pull his face to looking into yours.

"Elvis, I've loved you for as long as I can remember. Meeting you? Knowing you? It just confirms everything I've ever believed to be true about you." He melts at your words and pulls you in close to him, kissing you deeply. But he pulls away again.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't know if you should do... this..."

"Then maybe I can do this..." You reach your hand forward and run it down his chest to the top of the towel. Then, he inhales sharply as you move further down to where his cock is erect underneath it. You slide your hand under the towel carefully and take him in your palm. He moans softly as you begin to stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth gently.

"God, baby, that feels so good. You don't have to-"

"Shhh. You've been taking care of me all night. Let me take care of you." His hips buck into your hand as you continue to pump him. He grunts and leans his head back as you move your hand a little faster.

"Mmm, baby..." He moans as you push his foreskin back and collect a bead of precum that's gathered there, running your thumb across his sensitive head. He leans back and lets you move the towel out of the way to free his cock and stroke it in the open. You pump him a little faster and he groans again. "It's so good, baby."

He feels your lips on his cheek as you move your hand on him and turns to kiss you. He looks into your eyes and puts his hand on your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips again. Then, he presses his forehead to yours and whispers.

"Thank you..." You smile and continue moving your hand up and down on him gently. He throws his head back and his hips buck again. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-"

A guttural groan rises from his throat as he cums, hard, and shoots his climax all over your hand. You pump him through his release and he shudders into your palm. He uses the towel to wipe your hand clean and then lays back on the bed.

You giggle a little and lay back with him. He turns and looks at you.

"I haven't been that satisfied with a handjob in years."

"I haven't given one in years." You smile. He rolls over and smothers you in kisses, forgetting for a second that you might be hurt. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, reaching down to undo the tie on your robe. His hand runs underneath it onto your stomach and down to your hip.

"Can I make you feel good too, honey?" You nod frantically and he laughs out loud. Then he stops and looks at you seriously. "Alright, just don't move around too much. I'll never forgive myself if this hurts you."

"I really think I'm fine." He sinks to the floor between your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He spreads your legs, kissing the inside of each of your thighs gently. You moan softly as he leans forward and drags his tongue up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Oh, god, Elvis!" You whimper as he continues to move his mouth on you. He swirls his tongue over and around your clit in tantalizing circles. The sensation drives you wild and your pussy clenches around nothing as he licks you. He dips down and pushes his tongue into your slit several times before slipping one of his long fingers inside you. You whine and arch your back as he pumps his finger in and out and goes back to dragging his tongue over your clit. The pressure of your orgasm builds as he works and you know you won't last too much longer. He pulls back a little and flicks your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, teasing your orgasm out of you.

"Cum for me, baby." He whispers, pressing his whole mouth to you and moving his tongue on you hard.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" You cry out as your orgasm crashes into you, pumping through your veins like electric shockwaves. He continues working his mouth on you as you ride out your high, your hand in his hair.

When you finally come back down and stop shuddering, he pulls back, wiping his face with his hand and laying next to you on the bed.

"Wow." He chuckles and looks over at you. "No, seriously, I've never had a man...get me there."

"Really?"

"I mean, they've tried, but never successfully. It's like I was waiting for you."

"Honey, I feel like I've been waiting for you too." He rolls over and put his hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it. Something about being here with you, feels like I was meant to catch you."

"It feels like I was meant to fall." He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You shimmy out of the robe and get under the covers with him. He holds your naked body close to his own, running his hands over you gently as you talk.

You spend the rest of the night in conversation and soft touches. He tells you stories about his life and listens attentively when you share yours. The connection between you strengthens with each passing hour and each soft caress and each sweet kiss.

When the sun peeks through the curtains of your hotel room, he pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"I think you're okay, baby. You haven't had any other symptoms and it's probably been long enough now that you would have."

"Should I leave?"

"Not unless you want to."

"I don't."

"Then stay. We made it to the morning. We can rest now." You nod and he settles on your chest. You're both asleep within minutes, wrapped around each other.

Eventually, there's a harsh knock on the door and someone calls to him from the other side of it.

"Hey, boss, we gotta be wheels up in twenty."

"Okay." He hollers back, groaning and stretching.

"I'm sorry I kept you up all night." You whisper.

"Don't be, honey, that's the best night I've had in years." You both get up and start to get dressed. When you're fully put back together, he grabs you and pulls you into a warm embrace.

"I hate that you're leaving." You mumble into his chest.

"Come with me."

"What? No, I can't."

"Why not?" You wrack your brain for a reason, but there's nothing keeping you here. Nothing that's more important than him.

"Okay." You look up into his face, your arms still wrapped around each other.

"Really?"

"Yes. Can we swing by my apartment and let me grab a few things?"

"Baby, I'm Elvis Presley, we can do whatever we want." He leans in and kisses you softly again. "You know somethin'?"

"Hmm?"

"I know I caught you when you fell, but I think you're the one who saved me tonight." He takes your hand to lead you out of the room and into your future. "My own little angel fell right out of the sky. I'm so glad you did."

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things

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[quitealotofsodapop]

Not to mention if he had shown Tang, a scholar who lived and breathed JTTW, his memories... I'm pretty sure Tabg would have straight up attacked him for trying to describe what happened to Wukong while he was held captive by Heaven had been anything less than what it was: Torture. For example, at this point, Sun Wukong is more than a fairytale or storybook character. He's more than just some demon who lived thousands of years ago as a footnote in a history book. He's a person, not only that, but he's someone who has since become part of Tang's family! He's a flawed but still wise master who is impulsively self sacrificial to the point of unintentionally hurting the people who care about him, he's temperamental and tends to be forgetful about the limits of normal mortals because he's never had a baseline, he's petty, but ultimately... Sun Wukong is someone who cares deeply and honestly about the people who manage to get past the ironclad walls he has erected around his heart, someone who is selfless at heart even when his actions seem selfish, someone who has had a very difficult life and is still learning to let other in and trust them. Tanghas read Wukong's story a hundred times over, analyzed his written actions a thousand times, out of everyone he is probably the one who knows the ksot about Wukong's past besides the Demon Bull King and Macaque, the person who pribavly raised Wukong the most besides the Sentinels and his mate respectively. He recognizes how much Wukong has changed for the better, how he's still learning after all these centuries, and how he's trying so very hard to be a good mentor for MK and teach him the lessons he never had so he doesn't suffer the same way he did even while his own past comes back to bite him.

So no... Tang would absolutely be offended by Azure's narrative

YUP. referencing.

Tang about to bust out his Bachelors in ancient Chinese history and literature to poke a million holes in Azure Lion's whiteashed narrative:

(In the Scroll of Memory as Azure is showing his memories of the Rebellion): Tang, suddenly appearing in the memory: "Where is Erlang Shen?" Azure, startled: "How did you get in here?" Tang: "As someone who lives for this era in history - I can poke so many holes in your story. Sun Wukong was strong enough for the Jade Emperor, but fell to his nephew Erlang Shen, his Plum Hill Lads, and Lao Tzu's binding ring. From there he was tossed into the Trigram Furnace and was forced to endure 49 days of the Samadhi Fire to extract his immortalities." Azure, pleasantly impressed: "You know your stories well monk-" Tang, interupting: "AND-! I am not finished. The great Tang Monk, aka Tripitaka, did not yield to the Taoist gods! Only to the Buddha and his diciples! To call him an Agent of the Oppressors greatly overlooks how many times he helped his fellow mortals, even at the threat of being executed for his faith!" Azure: "You're becoming overwhelmed-" Tang, angry tears: "And I know Wukong! He wouldn't have targeted you guys at Camel Ridge unless you did something warranting his anger! How can you call him a traitor when YOU left him to burn!?" (*Azure's memories dispate, instead showing Wukong when he was with the Pilgrims - from the perspective of Tripitaka. Wukong is laughing along with his brothers Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing, and Ao Lie*) Tang, volume increasing: "Wukong didn't stay with the Pilgrims to hurt people. He stayed because he knew that his mind and emotions needed healing after such a tremendous amount of pain. They cared enough for him to address this pain and help him towards being a true sage. Something your *Brotherhood* obviously never bothered to do! HE DIDN'T BETRAY YOU AS MUCH AS YOU BETRAYED HIM!!" (the memory scroll completely disapates back to reality. the entire MKrew + the Brotherhood are staring shocked at Tang's show of power*) Tang: *breathing heavily and angry crying* MK, wide-eyed and impressed: "...whoa" Pigsy, proud: "Yup. Don't try to twist what happened back then Azure. My Tangy knows his history." Peng, whispers to the others: "The Golden Cicada lives on. I knew I wasn't mistaken." Yellow Tusk: "I suggest we retreat for now. Once the Celestial Realm senses our escape, they are sure to have increased their defences." Azure, eyes narrowing: "No. We go forward with our plan. No matter what this monk-" Tang: "I'M NOT A MONK!" Tang: *casts Magic Missile*

Because at the end of the day, Azure understimated the receipts that Wukong's new dad-friend would have on their political movement.

#lmk theories #lmk tang #lmk azure lion #jttw #journey to the west #lmk the brotherhood #lmk yellow tusk elephant #lmk golden winged peng #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk s4 spoilers