#and i really hope this stinks in my head not to do it again

[nyancompoopery]

😞

[ratskinsuit]

A Warm Embrace

Hazbin Hotel Lucifer x gn!Reader

———————————————————————

“Recently Lucifer has seeming more depressed than usual, constantly putting himself down, shutting himself off from everyone, and locking himself in his office for hours at a time, whenever he comes out he’s distant and moody, so you go and try to comfort him.”

Tags: Fluff, slight angst, Lucifer being sad, comfort

This was an anonymous request, if anything is wrong feel free to request again, but I hope I did well! I’m not the best at writing fluff but I tried.

———————————————————————

It was a normal afternoon at Lucifer’s castle, yet Lucifer was not out like he usually was. He has been really down and depressed lately, only leaving his office for meals, and during them he just picks at it and is silent. If you try to get him to come out he will just make excuses.

“Sorry I just have a lot to do.. like make..ducks and, paperwork…” He would say.

So you decided that enough was enough, and you would help him through this episode. You made him some warm lavender tea, some apple slices with honey, and an assortment of fruits.

You hum on your way to office, knocking and opening the door, stepping inside, you see your partner hunched over the desk, papers and rubber ducks scattered all around. His eyes are half-lidded, and bloodshot. His hair is a mess, knotted and messy, stands infront of his face. Hes wearing a random white t-shirt he found, stained with paint and dirt. He’s working on a duck, a pile on the floor next to him. He seems to not have heard you come in so you clear your throat.

He looks up from the duck he was working on. “O-oh hello darling, sorry I didn’t notice you came in, I was uh…” He glances at the duck. “…working.”

You walk up to his desk, setting his plate on it. “Yes, I can… see that..”You say, glancing at all of the ducks strewn across the room

“Oh- oh oh! Look what I made!” He says, picking up the duck he was working on proudly. “Presentinggg, the magictastical backflip ping rubber duck! That spits fire!” He says, in a showman type voice, smiling.

“That’s very nice honey…” You say, petting his hair.

He pauses for a second, and his face drops. “Who am I kidding this sucks!” He says, throwing it across the room with a sigh and looking down.

You look at him sadly, going behind him. “My love, I’ve noticed that you have been really on edge recently, you seem really depressed, and stressed..why don’t we take a break?” You say, rubbing his shoulders.

He looks at you with a fake confused expression, and lets out a fake laugh. “Haha! Me? Depressed? N-no way, I’m perfectly fine! I’m not stressed at all, I’m just uh… a little hyper that’s all! I’m okay!” He says, another fake laugh, obviously not okay.

“Darling we have been married for years now. I can tell your really worked up right now, why don’t we take a break and talk about it?” You say, going and sitting in his lap, resting your hands on his face, your thumb rubbing his face comfortingly.

He pushes his face against your hand, and looks down. “I… guess I have been a.. tad bit stressed recently…” He murmurs, still not used to people caring.

You give him a smile, and run your fingers through his hair and rub his back soothingly. This seems to calm him, as he leans against your chest and closes his eyes. You hum softly, continuing to comfort him.

After a couple moments you hear him mutter something unintelligible into your shirt. “Hm? What was that hon?” You ask.

He turns his head still leaning on your chest, before hesitating. “T…thank you for staying with me and caring for me…”He murmurs.. cheeks a bit red, obviously a bit embarrassed by his vulnerability.

You smile and give him a kiss. “Of course love, now why don’t we go take a bath, no offense but you kind of stink.” He laughs, his cheeks going redder. “Yeah I think that’s a good idea.”

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My first ever request done! I hope it was up to standards, I’m not very good at writing comfort, hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[churipu]

Regular life AU!

Salaryman!Nanami x Sleepyhead!Reader

Reader loves to take naps and Nanami loves to over work so Reader always forces Nami to take naps with her when she’s tired because she knows he’s tired too.

She invades his office covered in her blanket and stands in front of Nanami until he picks her up and they go sleep ;-;

Sometimes he tries to plead with her to wait longer but she doesn’t budge at all 🤣

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 .ᐟ

────── 𝕴 . featuring. nanami kento x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. non-sorcerer au! nanami being the man he is, i miss him :(

note. i'm in a lecture right now, and i'm bored out of my mind — but hii nonnie, i absolutely love this idea, i love sleeping and this request is just so cute :( i hope you like this!

"hi, sweetheart." nanami whispers, his hand busy gripping on the pen as he craned his neck from side to side, from paper to paper, "why aren't you napping?"

you furrowed your brows, "i was napping, until i turned over to hug my boyfriend and he's gone."

nanami's eyes promptly averted to yours, the corner of his lips tugging up into a small, exhausted smile, "you know i'm a little busy, right? i really have to get this done the day after tomorrow — i promise i'll be back in bed to nap with you."

his voice was soft, almost inaudible. the exhaustion forming under his eyes was apparent.

"not even just for a few hours?" you questioned, standing in front of his desk — bundled inside a white colored blanket, "you need to rest too, kento. look at you."

"i know, darling. i just need to get this done real quick, okay?" he laid his pen down, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"just for a few hours, please?" you tell him, knowing he wouldn't be able to lay himself to rest unless you forced him to.

nanami is a hard worker. i think that should be fairly obvious — he over works a lot, even after office hours. which was a pet peeve to you that he's discarding his own health away for work. and no matter how hard you tried, he just won't stop.

"i know, love. in a minute. okay?"

his question received no answer. that made his eyes rise up to meet yours and they weren't happy. nanami chuckles, he leaned back onto his chair, "you. me. nap. now."

slowly, he stands up and stretches his arms upwards, "i'm sorry for being so absent lately, come here," the man opens his arms for you to fall into.

and so you did, jumping into his arms.

he pats your hair, tightening the blanket around you — before prompting to carry you up, sauntering back to the bedroom, "feel better?"

nodding, you placed your face in between his neck and shoulder, "much better, and you stink."

his body vibrated as he stifled back a laugh, kissing the top of your head, "i haven't had the time to shower after coming back from work, i'm sorry," nanami explains.

shaking your head, you huffed, "i know, it's okay. i still love you though."

nanami whispers back, "i love you too."

he entered the bedroom, laying you down on the bed — gently pulling the covers off you, tucking you in like how a mother would to her child. can't say that you didn't enjoy the pampering.

"i'm going to take a quick shower, i'll be back," nanami leans down, kissing the tip of your nose, making you subconsciously scrunch it.

"don't take too long," you rolled your eyes.

"i won't, darling."

as he got up to leave, you grabbed the hem of his shirt, "i want something before you go shower."

nanami raised a brow, waiting for your statement. but you didn't, all he saw was you puckering your lips out slightly — nanami smiled, pulling you in by your neck, planting his lips onto yours.

"i love you, ken."

he kissed you again, "i love you too."

© churipu 2024 , do not copy or repost anywhere

[theminecraftbee]

Also, shoutout to Impulse for getting stuck in two of those worlds in ONE DAY. Joe revealed that the recording for what we now know as vault hunters was also last monday. Impulse is really going through it.

Impulse sweats. For the past several minutes, Iskall has been staring at him and "hmmm"-ing for some reason. His only solace is that he's also doing it to Etho, but it's still making Impulse feel like he's got something weird on his face. That, or Iskall has suddenly and unexpectedly transformed back into his original villager state. One or the other.

He glances at Etho, who shrugs awkwardly at Impulse. He looks back at Iskall, who is still 'HMMM'-ing, increasingly furiously.

"Do you think he wants us to say something?" Etho asks.

"I mean, I guess?" Impulse says. "He could just ask."

"He's just going to keep humming at us, though," Etho says. "That's scary."

"Scary?" Impulse says, blankly.

"HMMMMM," Iskall says with an irritated expression.

"Scary," Etho confirms. Impulse sighs.

"Okay, I'll handle it. Hey, Iskall," Impulse says.

"Oh, I didn't see you there," Iskall blatantly lies.

"Right. You're, uh, sounding a bit concerned, buddy," Impulse says.

"Right, yes. Very concerned. Did you know you and Etho are already claimed? And, like, super cursed."

"Uh, I got a divorce with Cleo, you know," Etho says, completely straight-faced. "I'm a bachelor now. Not claimed by anyone."

"I'm not sure Bdubs and I ever got a divorce," Impulse says.

"No, no, not claimed like that! Claimed like--I did warn you all, yes? That my patrons would not like it if you came with other gods all over you? They get jealous of each other, let alone whoever you have... doing that to you."

Impulse and Etho glance at each other again. Impulse looks back at Iskall. "Yeah, I think I'd remember if I were claimed by any gods. I don't really... worship any, these days."

"If I worship any gods, Iskall, they're not the kind yours can do anything about," Etho says.

"What?" Impulse says.

"I mean, I'm old! I'm old, Impulse! I've met a lot of gods! Some of them I have opinions on!" Etho says.

"No, I've met yours too, they won't cause problems, yeah?" Iskall says.

"Thank goodness," Etho says.

"Sometimes I forget how old you two are," mutters Impulse. "That doesn't answer the whole... already claimed?"

"Yeah, like, it stinks off of you to me. It's like... you've got... someone's already claimed you to kill players, not mobs. And your health is all wonky. And you're keeping secrets or... kept secret? And don't even get me STARTED on how much time you have. All wrong. Who did you even find to do that to you?"

Impulse freezes.

"...the time was last season," he says, finally.

"Last season? What?" Iskall says.

"Yeah, that was--you know what, tell your gods not to worry about it," Impulse says. "I'm sure it's. Fine? Hey, wait, how can you tell?"

Iskall shakes his head like he's trying to knock something out of his ear. "They're annoying about it. Make whatever curse you're under go away while you're here or they're going to make it my problem. Mine! As though I can do anything about it. Go to the mortal world, they say. Bring your friends back here, they say. We want to meet them, they say. They're so annoying."

Etho, without skipping a beat, says: "Yeah, are those gods or the mother I saw last night?"

There's an ominous roll of thunder.

"Oh, definitely your mom," he says. There is a second, even more ominous roll of thunder happens, somehow entirely focused on Etho's location. Impulse decides to ignore it.

"I'll bother Grian about it," Impulse decides. He somewhat doubts Grian is a god--man, he really, really hopes Grian isn't a god, actually--but maybe he knows that Secret Keeper guy. That feels like the kind of guy who probably did this to them.

"Do that," Iskall says, and he wanders off to bother Stress.

Etho watches him go. "You know, maybe we should worry about the fact we're cursed because of the Life games. That seems, uh, bad," he says.

Impulse thinks about it and shrugs. "Eh, what's the worst that can happen?"

A long silence.

"Don't answer that," he tells the silence, before it can ominously thunder again. He knows the kinds of things that will lead to gods mocking him, after all.

[notjaexiee]

CHERRY LIPGLOSS SUCKS

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You and Regina have a long-standing history together, and now, with your exes pairing up in a new relationship, you are reluctantly forced to work together to win them back. Will the familiarity bring you closer, or will old habits resurface, leading to further tensions?

Warnings: manipulative regina, profanity, beginner fanfic writer:so mid writing, mentions of weed and mozzarella sticks

Words:1.3k

A/N:Thank you so much for all the support on Part 1, especially to that one user who reblogged and said "go read or u suck" I LOVE U.

Regina's words echoed in my mind like a stuck record."

"Ill see you tomorrow, after school, underneath the bleache-"

"Dude!" Mae jolted me out of my thoughts, snapping. My brain instantly refocused on the present moment.

The final class had just 5 minutes left, and I had to meet Regina. I hadn't had a genuine and meaningful conversation with Regina in a while. Our last talk had taken place years ago, and it didn't exactly conclude on the best terms.

-

"Did You really have to be that honest?!"

-

"Y-Yeah?" I stammered as I shook my head, desperately trying to clear my mind.

"Are you even paying attention?" she asked with an eye roll.

Trying to cover up my shit, I responded with a snort, "Of course!" hoping she would buy my lie.

Unconvinced, she asked, "So, when is Anders' soccer game?"

Ander plays soccer?

I gulped, "Tomorrow?" I replied, my voice smaller.

"Ander has asthma, dumbass." She pointed out

My shoulders sagged as I let out a resigned sigh, muttering under my breath, "fuck you, reverse psychology."

"You good?"

I attempted to brush off Mae's concern, replying, "It's nothing."

She gave me a skeptical look, countering, "Bullshit. You didn't even touch those mozzarella sticks I brought you. You love mozzarella sticks."

"I was full," I argued lamely, attempting to defend myself.

Mae raised a skeptical eyebrow, reminding me, "You guzzle down a Red Bull every morning for breakfast. Your 'full' card doesn't fly, genius."

"I'm just not in the mood today, okay?" I reasoned again

"Fine," Mae conceded, slightly annoyed. "I'm going to go help Brynn roll some. Want to join?"

I shook my head, declining her offer.

"Nah, I have something to do," I responded, already turning to leave the classroom.

Mae looked at me suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. "Okay..." she replied, still doubting my excuse.

I was growing increasingly annoyed as I waited for Regina under the stinking bleachers. The place absolutely reeked, and I had been tapping my foot in irritation for far too long.

"I'm a bit surprised you actually showed up."

Regina stated as she approached me with a confident stride.

I responded in a sarcastic tone, rolling my eyes, "Yeah, blackmailing me about my friends really works wonders."

I glanced around, surprised not to see Gretchen and Karen accompanying her, as usual.

I couldn't help but comment, "Where are your backscratching bootlickers?" I raised an eyebrow.

With a slight tilt of her head she responded with a snarky remark, "Your mouth is still as vulgar as ever, i guess some things never change."

"As if you're any better." I mumbled under my breath, too low for her to hear

"Woah woah, dating!?" I replied, thoroughly taken aback. "No way am i going to be your girlfriend!"

Regina quickly corrected me, "Pretend." She rolled her eyes, growing impatient with me. "Do you want Tina back?" She asked, her annoyance clear. "Then there's no question about it.

I wrestled with the idea, questioning if it was even worth the effort.

My face twisted in doubt as I questioned her plan. "How do you even know this will work?"

Regina's voice took on a venomous tone as she snapped, "Can you just shut up and trust me?"

My scoff turned into a mocking laugh. "Trust you, Regina?" I taunted

-

I sat alone in my darkened room, tears streaming down my face as I clutched my teddy bear tightly for comfort. My room looked like a cyclone had gone through it; pillows and blankets scattered every which way, and pieces of paper and pictures torn up. I could hear my mother's concerned voice outside my door, saying Regina wanted to talk to me. I shouted back, my voice shaking with anger, "Tell her to fuck off!"

-

I scoffed in disbelief. "Right, because the last time I trusted you really worked out well for me." The memory of her betrayal still stung.

"Can we not discuss that right now?" Regina replied sharply, but my anger remained.

The audacity of this bitch is terrifying!

"We're going to have to work together, so if you keep bringing it up, you're just making this more uncomfortable than it already is."

My anger gradually faded, replaced by a begrudging acceptance. I hated to admit it, but she was right

— we I couldn't keep dwelling on the past if we were going to make this plan work.

I reluctantly agreed, "Fine," Part of me yearned for an acknowledgement, for her to address the past, but her lack of response just left me feeling disappointed.

Regina sneered disdainfully, her gaze traveling along my entire body, her eyes judging me. "What the fuck are you wearing?" she taunted, as if I had committed a fashion felony.

I looked down at my clothes, feeling a bit self-conscious. "What?" I replied defensively, unsure of the issue.

Regina abruptly grabbed my wrist, her touch surprisingly warm. Without a word, she began pulling me towards her red Jeep.

"where are you tak—" I started, but she quickly cut me off, her words laced with annoyance.

"I am not going to be seen with an outdated loser," she retorted, her grip not relenting as we approached her vehicle.

I stumbled slightly as she practically dragged me along, trying to protest, "It's just a band tee!"

My wrist felt the absence of her touch as Regina turned to open the driver's door of her Jeep.

As she settled into the driver's seat I glanced back at the passenger and the back seat, debating where to sit.

Opting for the safer choice, I reached out for the back door handle before Regina interrupted me.

"Sit in the passenger seat, idiot," she ordered, her tone cutting through the air.

Reluctantly, I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside Regina, sitting a slight distance away from her. As she started the jeep and began driving, I turned my gaze towards the window.

I tried once more to get an answer, my eyes still glued to the outside world.

"Seriously," I persisted, "where are we going?"

Regina's response was brief, "Shopping," she replied. "If I'm going to pretend to date you, you at least need some proper clothes."

The cafeteria felt oddly silent as a murmur of whispers surrounded me. I couldn't tell if it was my anxiety playing tricks on me, but the atmosphere felt eerily hushed.

"I hate this," I muttered under my breath, feeling the weight of everyone's gazes upon me. Wearing the clothes Regina had deemed socially acceptable yesterday made me feel even more out of place right now.

My train of thought came to a halt as my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a message from Regina: "Stop standing there like a statue. Come sit with us."

I glanced at my phone, finding a flurry of messages from my friends group chat. "Where are you?" and "What the hell are you wearing" filled the screen. I reluctantly raised my gaze to our usual table, only to see my friends staring at me, bewildered. Swiftly muting my phone, I headed towards the plastics table.

'Took you long enough,' she muttered, as I approached, her eyes glued to her phone, no doubt scrolling through Instagram.

Gretchen, a hint of false enthusiasm in her expression, looks up from her phone. "Why's she here?" she asks, peering at Regina through raised eyebrows.

Regina retorts with a deadpan tone, rolling her eyes slightly, "To sit with us.”

Gretchen, her voice rising in pitch, exclaims, "What?! She can't-" only to be cut off by Regina's firm interject.

"Sit," Regina says, her inflection leaving no room for argument.

I hesitantly moved to sit across them.

"Hey, sorry- uh," I greet, looking between Karen and Gretchen with a mix of confusion and frustration. "Why am I sitting here? This is not part of the plan!" I whisper-yelled at Regina, leaning in closer to avoid being overheard.

With a roll of her eyes, Regina replied, "Just go with it." She set her phone down, adding, "Tina's watching".

I glanced around the cafeteria, spotting Tina seated with her clique, watching me intently. In that moment, our eyes met, confirming that the first step of Regina's plan had been successfully executed.

Step one:Complete

A/N: next part is cadys arrival😱🥶

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2

Dustin visits the next day, sitting next to Wayne with the same book he’s had for the past few days. Turning to the page that was dog-eared, reading. Voices and all. Just like Eddie does when he’s practicing for one of those campaigns. Claiming that it’s better to get it down with someone else’s words so he can improvise. So he doesn’t have to memorize some script and can be in the moment. Let his mind do the workings along with the players. 

It’s one of the many parts of Eddie that Wayne sees in this kid. The dramatics, the drive. The snobbiness about certain things that don’t really matter to the rest of the world. But it matters to them, so it matters to the people who care about them too. 

If Eddie were awake, he might yell at the kid for turning the corner of a page instead of using a bookmark. Even though all the books he gets are second-hand and already torn and bent in all sorts of ways. But it’s about keeping the art pristine. The author put their heart and soul into this work, it’s not meant to be sullied. Wayne saw Eddie bend the corner of a page a million times over though, he just likes making a big stink about nothing. Just to get a rise out of people, make them laugh. Wayne can imagine that Eddie liked to make Dustin laugh a lot. 

“Have the doctors said anything new?” Dustin asks after finishing the chapter. 

Wayne shakes his head. “Same old, same old. Don’t worry about it too much though, he wouldn’t want you to.”

“He wouldn’t want a lot of the things that happened over the past week. So he’ll have to deal with it.” After a pause, he asks, “How are you doing?”

That makes Wayne laugh. “You don’t have to go worryin’ about me either. You’re just a kid.”

“And you’re just a man waiting for your kid to wake up. The same way I’m waiting for my friend to wake up. At the end of the day, we’re all still people. That sometimes need a break. So, how are you doing?”

It’s scary how much Wayne sees Eddie in this kid. “It’s hard comin’ here to hear the same thing every day.” That’s all Wayne’s willing to say to a kid. 

Hard is definitely a word most people would use to describe his situation. Difficult, disheartening. Maybe even hopeless. But there’s still some hope in this old heart that keeps Wayne coming back day in and day out. Keeps him moving while only getting a few hours of sleep a day. Cause as soon as the night comes around, it’s right back to the plant. Making the money to pay for the care his boy needs to keep living. To pay for the roof over his own head enough so he’ll live to see it happen. 

Truth is, Wayne’s dying here. From the fatigue. From the endless waiting. From the slowly draining pool of hope. Nothing seems to change. Nothing gets better. Six days in a medically induced coma with no hopes of ever waking up. Wayne’s not dumb enough to think that the chances increase the more days pass without him showing any signs of improvement. 

Part of him says that this is the state Eddie will be in for the rest of his life. Wonders if it’s worth all of this just to keep him alive. If he’s really suffering in there and would be better off resting forever. But then the heart monitor keeps beeping and his brain is still active. Wayne’s boy is still in there, he’ll come back soon. 

“Yeah, I bet that’s hard. I still have hope though, I was there when he came in. He looks a lot better now.”

There’s a knock on the door that keeps Wayne from responding. It’s the Harrington boy, in normal clothes this time. Discharged. 

“Sorry to interrupt but your mom said it’s time to go home.”

Dustin dramatically rolls his eyes. “Which one, my actual mother or you?”

“Your actual mother, but I happen to agree with her. Come on, you got school in the morning.” Harrington crosses his arms, looking like he’s ready to start a standoff. 

But instead of fighting Dustin stands. “Have a good night Mr. Munson. I’ll still try to visit as much as I can even though school’s starting back up again.”

“Thanks, kid, I’ll try.”

Harrington ruffles Dustin’s hair as he walks out the doorway. Standing there for a beat before turning back to Wayne. “We’ve never officially met, I’m Steve.”

Steve holds out his hand, waiting for Wayne to shake it. Wayne debates whether that’s a good idea or not. Apparently, it takes too long as Steve returns his hand to his side. 

“I wanted to apologize for the scene I made the other day, you didn’t deserve that. I was just so shocked that they actually cuffed him to the bed. Still have him cuffed to the bed.” Steve looks at Eddie with a guilt that Wayne doesn’t understand. Like he’s the reason Eddie’s strapped to the bed. 

Wayne continues to say nothing, not quite sure what would be appropriate. Tell him that it’s ok, that it didn’t bother him. Or thank him for believing that Wayne knew was true. That his boy was innocent. 

There was more to this story than he knew. Something to do with the kid being there and the rich boy standing in the doorway looking like this is all his fault. When Wayne knows the same scars mark Steve just as much as they do Eddie. Steve made sure that everyone knew that. Using it as proof that Steve was there, and that Eddie was innocent. 

Steve was ready to offer himself up as a witness for a man that the town hates. Wayne should be grateful for that, but it doesn’t seem right. They were part of different worlds. Different status, interests. It didn’t make sense for them to be in the same place at all. Yet here they are supposedly having gone through the same vicious attack. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Steve continues when Wayne stays silent. “I’m more than happy to help out. Eddie was kind of a new friend and I hate seeing him like this as much as you do.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Wayne snaps. He hates charity, especially from this kid. For some reason he doesn’t really understand why. 

Steve is taken aback. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. I know my boy and I know how my boy thinks about people like you. So don’t go ‘round gaining sympathy points from the real people who are suffering.”

“I, I wasn’t,” Steve stammers. “I would never.”

“Steve,” Dustin yells. “Get your ass moving, we’re your ride too.”

Steve sighs. “Coming, Jesus. I’m sorry for offending you. I won’t bother you again.”

Wayne shakes his head when Steve leaves, letting out a deep sigh. Maybe he was too harsh, maybe he wasn’t harsh enough. He’s not sure. 

He’s not sure about a lot of things anymore.

part 4

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs,

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My World; Chapter 4

You finally find your way into the labyrinth, coming across some new and old faces; both friendly and malicious.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, reader is getting tired of being stuck here and smelling like a bog

Content Warnings; Swearing, some talk of death, reader passes out

Word Count; 2.2 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

As per usual, don't put my work into AI.

You were finally making some decent progress, what, with not being stuck in some bog and knowing somewhat of where you were going. A vast improvement really! Well, it would be, but unfortunately, you still reeked of rotten eggs and skunk — apparently the bog stench only got worse the longer it stayed on.

“Why did it have to dump me into the swamp,” you huffed, rounding yet another corner. “Like, it could have dumped me beside the water, but, no, no, let’s dump the magicless human right into the putrid bog water! A good guffaw, don’t you think? Ha ha ha HA!”

At least your au de Bog of Eternal Stench kept any would-be assailants away since you hadn’t run into anything (besides a rose bush, ouch) since you started making your way through the labyrinth. So maybe it wasn’t all that bad… damn, maybe your sense of smell was just used to it… hey, if stink helps you not die, then you would gladly stay stinky! Well, bitterly stay stinky is more like it.

“Assholes,” you muttered, rounding another corner. 

But it wasn’t a corner; it was a crossroad. Three paths merged off of the one you were on.

… aren’t labyrinths just one long line? THIS IS A FUCKING MAZE?! You groaned, looking at your possible options which all looked exactly the same.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. Of course nothing is easy here, no no no! Gotta make things difficult now.

The hedge behind you rustled, and you whipped around, getting into a stance where you could either land a pretty good sucker punch to the hedge-stalker or make a mad dash away. But out of the hedge crawled out a small, fuzzy, caterpillar. And back at home you would have thought it was cute, but you learned your lesson from the doors; don’t trust it, or anyone for that matter.

You looked down at the caterpillar, and the caterpillar looked up at you, blinking slowly. 

What are the chances… 

“Do you know a way out,” you asked the caterpillar, crouching down so that you didn’t tower over it.

The caterpillar blinked at you again (apparently caterpillars in the Underground have eyelids, which isn’t the weirdest thing considering everything). “No,” it chirped and continued crawling on its merry way, wherever that may be. “But you’ll find the way.” And it disappeared into the growth of the maze, humming a little tune to itself.

You sighed, and pushed yourself back up, straightening out your shoulders and looking up to the sky. “I’ll find a way,” you breathed, looking up at the cloudless sky which was starting to turn a brilliant amber with the setting sun. “I might want to find a way is more like it.”

You looked back down to the ground, looking at the three paths in front of you. They all look the same, save for the ground making up paths themselves, with the middle and right paths looking well worn with travel. And while they may be well worn, there was a voice at the back of your head that was whispering caution. The left-most path was not as well travelled, with dead vines covering parts of it.

“Hopefully you’re right, little buddy since I could use all the luck I can get.” And you made your way down the path, hoping that it was the correct one and didn’t lead you to your death or some other unpleasant thing.

…

…

Lilia was at the entrance of the labyrinth, in front of the two doors.

“Have you seen a human, about this tall, a bit of a temper, and smelling foul,” he asked the doors.

The doors looked at each other before looking at Lilia. “And what’s it to you,” they said in unison.

Lilia smiled, but it was one of mild annoyance, not joy or amusement. “Royal orders I fear. You wouldn’t want the mistress finding out about you both tampering with a royal matter, would you?” The smile turned cat-like since Lilia had backed them into a corner.

The doors paled, with the blue door speaking up. “No no, sir! We would never dream of such a thing!!! Yes, there was a human, a wretched one at that, horribly rude!”

Lilia hummed, cocking a brow at the door. “I do think wretched is a bit of an overstatement now,” he whispered to himself. “Well, tell me where about they are then. The sooner I can collect them, the better for you lot.”

The red door sighed, “Near the heart of it, they took the left path.”

Left path? Why the left path leads to… Shit. Lilia mentally groaned, knowing that regardless of the path you took, you would end up having to deal with them eventually. “Your cooperation has been noted,” is what he said though, giving the doors both a nod before turning into a bat and flying over the labyrinth, trying to find you before you ran into whoever them was.

“Please be clever enough not to die,” he whispered to no one, hoping that he didn’t have to deliver your body to the Queen.

…

…

The left path brought you to what looked like a forest; with old-growth trees, ferns and moss covering the ground, and a list mist hanging in the air. It was peaceful and beautiful, with the setting sun illuminating the mist without burning it away.

But that would not last, night was fast approaching and you had nothing to protect you this time; no rowan tree to haul your ass up, and no sort of weapon to protect yourself besides the oh-so-lovely smell of the bog to deter something from eating you. You were pretty sure it would also keep away anything that wanted to otherwise snatch you up.

“AH!” Something jumped out from a tree, and you couldn’t fully register what it was since you were also screeching, much like the creature was at you; you with fright, the creature with amusement and joy.

Two other creatures jumped out from behind the trees and startled cackling, jumping, and clapping. Together, they surrounded you, with no way to really escape them without fighting through.

… you really should have read about fae species, since you didn’t know what they exactly were, or how dangerous they were either. 

One pulled you near a pit and lit a fire, cackling in glee and dancing, trying to get you to join them. “Ah come on, human, have some fun! DANCE BABEY!!!!”

But you stayed still as more creatures came out of the shadows, dancing around the fire, giggling, cackling, and pulling a bit at your clothes to prompt you to join them. You didn’t know, cementing your feet down, your eyes watching their movements with caution.

‘Should you dance with the fae, you shall not stop dancing until you exhaust yourself. And once you wake up, you will continue dancing. This cycle will repeat itself until you dance to death.’ 

At least that was what the book said, and so you stayed still, regardless of how much the creatures pulled at you. While it looked like a grand old time, you remained where you were.

“I don’t have time for dancing,” you answered coldly, flinching from pinching fingers. You were also a bit shocked that Eau de Bog of Eternal Stench wasn’t keeping them away. Either, they couldn’t smell, or, they didn’t care that you smelled downright awful. “So this ‘baby’ won’t dance.”

And should I be offended by you calling me ‘baby’ or am I reading too much into it?

The main creature just shrugged and spun its dancing partner around. “Your loss human! More fun for us then! YIPPEE!!!” And it threw something in the fire to where you could feel the heat on your face.

What now? You were just standing there awkwardly as the creatures danced about, singing something that you couldn’t really make out. All you knew was that the heat, noise, and the dizzying dance of them was making your head pound, and throat scream in thirst. You hadn’t drank anything for over a day(?) — no, bog water did not count — and the heat from the fire made the thirst only worse. Shit.

“Ah, you don’t look too… hot there human,” one of the creatures snickered at its own joke at your expense. “Maybe if you dance with us, loosen up and have a bit of fun, then you can have a drink? Hmm? Dancing won’t kill you!” But its failed attempts at covering up its own malicious giggles were more than enough to stand your ground… which was coming at you quite fast since you practically collapsed.

Was it the thirst? The pounding migraine that wanted nothing more than to crawl into some dark hole and hide? Or your exhaustion from making that tiring trek, crawling yourself out of the bog and making the trek again, or the hours you had spent wandering around the maze with no real idea of where you were going? All you really knew was that you were now on the ground with the creatures poking at you to see if you were still alive.

“Aw, man! Are they already dead? That’s no fun!” One of the creatures pouted, raising up your arm, and you let it plop back to the ground. “Come on human! Get up! You’re not a party pooper are you?”

Scre you buddy! Can’t you read the situation?!

You were trying your best to stay quiet, which wasn’t all that hard, since all of your energy was gone. 

“They best not be,” a familiar voice called out.

From your position, you couldn’t see who it was, but you could make out the creatures jumping away from you like you were the hot fire instead of the fire pit. But someone else was approaching until you could make out a pair of shoes in front of your face.

They crouched down beside you, placing their fingers gently at the base of your throat; taking your pulse. “Hmph, playing dead, are we, Beastie?”

That irritating chuckle. The annoying nickname. Those mischievous magenta eyes that now looked at you with curiosity and amusement.

It was him — Mr. Sparkles.

And he had just blown your act of playing possum (well, not really, since you had actually collapsed).

But you didn’t say anything, instead favouring to give him a dirty look. Yet he just shook his head in jest, and proceeded to pick you up and wrap you around his shoulders and neck like some sort of bizarre ermine pelt; better than being carried like a sack of potatoes or the bridal carry you supposed.

“Her majesty sends her regards for not turning or killing her guest,” Lilia offered the creatures. It would be such a waste and pity to see such an entertaining Beastie leave us too soon now. “But do know she won’t take to their condition lightly.”

My condition? I’m not some Victorian child with some unknown illness wreaking havoc on their body you know?! But all that you did was groan and cough. You couldn’t even cough in Mr. Sparkles’ (Lilia’s) face, since you had a lovely view of the moss-covered ground and the fae’s shoes.

He patted the back of your calves, and you would have kicked him if you had more energy, but you didn’t. “Now, we really should be off, since Beastie has… an hour to get out of this maze before they turn into some sort of worm, or a hedge; never know what this old labyrinth will decide on really.” Lilia chuckled at the thought (was it merriment, or was he happy that you weren’t joining the caterpillar you met earlier?).

“No,” you wheezed. “WoRm!”

“See! They said it themself! No worm! How lovely that we are on a similar wavelength, Beastie! Marvellous even!” Lilia exclaimed, and the both of you started levitating off of the ground. “Now, do enjoy your party, Fireys!”

The creatures (Fireys apparently) groaned but got back to their party, dancing around the fire like they didn’t just try to lure you to your death mere minutes before.

“Tsk tsk, Beastie,” Lilia’s tutting brought your attention back to him and you grumbled. “You owe me two favours now, you know. Lucky that I found you… although that part wasn’t hard. I thought you learned your lesson the first time you decided to take a dip into the Bog of Eternal Stench?”

You lightly kicked him, letting your irritation be known, but Lilia just hummed. “Now now, no need to be like that! Do you want to smell like a bog when you meet the mistress? She wouldn’t take kindly to your… unique aroma.”

You hissed out a breath since he decided to pinch at your ear rather harshly — prompting for you to answer. “No,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Also, do read up on that book, since you will want to know about the government and fae species etiquette!”

From a smelly bog and fumbling around a maze for hours on end, to finding yourself being taken to fae high society… was it too late to become some worm in the maze? I think being a worm actually has a better chance of me living.

But sadly, you were saved from an eternity of being a worm. Hopefully, Mr. Sparkles (Lilia) would cover for your blunders a little for when you found yourself in front of ‘the mistress’.

...

...

...

...

To be continued!

~~~~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @cheezy-moon @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

Link to Masterlist

[softspiderling]

risk it all | b.r.b

summary: the gym fic™️

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

warnings: breaking gym etiquette, thirsty reader

word count: 3,4k

author's note: coming back with a bang i guess🤪thanks to jordan, may and sol for the continuous support ily guys.

He was staring.

You thought it was a fluke at first, that he was looking at someone that was standing behind you, but there wasn’t anyone. 

You had checked. 

Several times. 

The moment you realized that he was looking at you, you started sweating profusely. And it wasn’t because of the exercise, even though it was indeed kicking your ass. You weren’t a gym junkie by all means, and you didn’t even know if you were doing the exercise correctly. 

About your second rep in, you had enough and lifted your head to meet his gaze head on. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he had the decency to flush when he turned his eyes away. Letting out a grunt of annoyance, you finished your last rep, picking up your water bottle and taking an angry swig from it. You glared daggers at the man, who had his back turned to you by now and headed to the changing rooms, grabbing your stuff.

“What’s got you all hot and bothered?” Natasha asked when you came home, kicking the door shut behind you. 

“There was an asshole at the gym who was staring at me.”

Natasha pulled a face, twisting her hair into a bun, the heat of the stove getting to her. 

“You know I keep telling you to come to my gym instead.”

“UGH! I wish I could, but I literally just made a year-long contract with my gym like two months ago,” you groaned, dropping down on the couch like a sack of potatoes. “Couldn’t you have told me about your gym before I made my contract?”

Natasha peaked her head out of the kitchen to laugh at you and you couldn’t even be bothered to glare at her. It was weird how comfortable you were around each other, even though you’ve barely known each other for a month. You had posted an ad online that you were looking for a roommate and after countless interviews with people that were okay-ish, but not really your vibe, you met Natasha at a coffee shop and after bonding over your lactose-intolerance, you offhandedly mentioned you were searching for a roommate.

Yeah.

Admittedly a very weird thing to bond over, but now you always had a carton of oat milk and a carton of coconut milk in your fridge and a very cool roommate. 

“Well, then you gotta power through it. I’m sure you won’t see him again, and if you do, don’t hesitate to confront him, babe,” Natasha said, ever the strong woman. “Now go shower, you stink. Dinner is ready soon.”

She disappeared back into the kitchen and you forced yourself up, dragging a hand over your face, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You always liked to think that you were as strong as she was, but all your bravado usually left you as soon as you opened your mouth.

You just hoped you wouldn’t see him again, so you didn’t have to confront him at all.

The next time you were at the gym, it was about two weeks later and you had completely forgotten about the guy. Over the past week, it had gotten unbearably hot and you couldn’t find the strength to go to the gym to sweat even more so you gave yourself a time off until it cooled down again. It wasn’t exactly chilly, but at least it wasn’t that humid in the gym. The gym wasn’t packed as it usually was around this time, so it didn’t take you long to get through your workout. When you sat down on one of your last machines, you tensed slightly when you saw him right across from you, doing weighted pull-ups. 

To your annoyance, you realized that he was hot. 

Like, really hot. 

The shirt he was wearing was thin and white, miles of defined muscle just underneath,  His arms were huge, biceps straining as he pulled himself up and then lowered himself again. With a grunt he dropped down from the bars and you quickly averted your gaze, getting busy with your own weights. When you were all done, you straightened up your back and started the exercise, seeing how he was standing basically straight across from you, slightly to the left. 

Opting to just stare into the mirror on the other side of the wall, you could still see him looking at you out of the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t help it, but for a split second, you glanced over to him. Unlike the last time, he actually held your gaze and until you turned away, your cheeks turning red. 

God, what a fucking dick. 

You dropped the weights with a loud thunk, reaching for your phone.

roomie one: that fucking douchebag is here again

roomie two: Gym starer?

roomie one: … yes

roomie two: Get him!

roomie one: i’m not going to confront him in the middle of the gym

roomie two: Well, he’d deserve it.

The timer on the chest press indicated that your resting time was over, so you put your phone away. getting back to your workout. While you had been texting Natasha, gym starer had gotten back on the bar, his back to you. Small beads of sweat started to form on the nape of his neck, running down the back of the straining shirt that stretched across his shoulders every time he flexed his arms to pull himself up. 

After a while, you realized that you had done way more reps than you were supposed to, your muscles aching in protest. Cursing, you dropped the weights, gently this time, and wiped your face with your towel. Lifting your head, you could see that he was looking at you again and since you didn’t want to be that creepy person who stared at someone else in the gym, like he kept doing, you decided it was enough for the day and went to the locker rooms. Luckily, no one was in there, so you leaned your head against the cold metal of the lockers, letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Cut your workout short?” 

Wordlessly, you held your hand up, shutting the front door behind you, too annoyed with yourself to talk, and Natasha raised an eyebrow at you, putting her book away. Dropping your gym bag on the floor, you took a seat at the dining table and laid your head down. 

“He’s hot,” you muttered against the wooden surface. 

“I didn’t understand a thing.”

With a long sigh, you lifted your head, looking at Natasha with a pout. “Gym starer. He’s hot.”

“Ah, so now he’s not the creepy gym starer anymore,” Natasha snorted, putting her feet on the coffee table and you glared at her. Because she was right. Screw double-standards.

“God, you should’ve seen him,” you moaned, covering your face with your hands. “His arms are huge. And his shirt was so thin, I could basically see through the fabric and ugh-”

Natasha pulled a face. “Gross.”

“Shut up. Not everyone can like women,” you huffed, standing up. “I need to take a shower. 

“Yeah you do, you’re dripping all over the floor.”

“Jesus, Tash,” you exclaimed and Natasha only cackled at you as you headed to the bathroom to grab a shower, hoping to wash this dirty feeling away. While you stood under the stream of the water, you let out a sigh. You could not develop a crush on gym starer. That would be against your principles and it would be just, really fucking inconvenient. 

Unfortunately you weren’t one of those girls who got cute gym sets and looked like they just walked out of a Lululemon ad. Instead, you wore the most basic black running tights with a random sports bra and your hair ALWAYS stuck to your sweaty forehead, no matter how you wore it. And it was fine with you, because you weren’t going to the gym to pick up guys, you went there to stay fit and challenge yourself.

But a gym crush? No thanks. 

Toweling your wet hair, you exited the bathroom, leaving the door open so the warm air could escape. You plopped down on the couch next to Natasha and crossed her arms, looking at you in amusement.

“Have you ever thought about why he’s staring at you?”

“He’s probably laughing at me because I’m doing the exercise all wrong. Or because I sweat so much.”

“Or he’s into you?”

“And that’s why he’s staring at me?” you scoffed, draping the towel around your shoulders, tugging it from both ends. “He’s probably just like one of those weird gym rat bros who judges everyone who doesn’t go to the gym every day. I mean, he’s fucking ripped, Tash.”

“I know, you already said that!” Natasha groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m heading out for drinks with my squadron soon. Do you want to come along? Maybe you can find someone hot who will take your mind off of gym starer.”

“I doubt it. Maybe next time, Tash. Thanks for the invitation, though.”

You exhaled as you pushed through the last reps of your first set, your legs trembling. It took you a few days until you dared to go back to the gym. You were terrified you’d get caught staring at gym starer (oh the irony in that phrase), but when you were certain that you’d forgotten what he had looked like, you packed your bag and went to the gym. 

Relaxing your legs, you lifted them out of the machine when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone standing next to you. Pausing, you glanced at him, just to see gym starer looking at you. His mouth was moving, but the music from your headphones was too loud. Holding up your finger, he pressed his lips together until you tugged the headphones out of your ears.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Um…” Gym starer paused, his cheeks red. “I- uh… I wanted to know how much longer you’re gonna take on the leg press.”

“Oh. Uh, two more sets?”

“... Okay,” he said, pausing like he wanted to add something, but then quickly turned on his heel, walking away.

Furrowing your brows, you put your headphones back into your ears. Weird. As you shifted your weight in the seat, you looked to the right, doing a double take when you saw the other leg-press, unoccupied. 

“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, leaning your hands on your legs. When you left the gym twenty minutes later, gym starer was nowhere to be seen. 

A few days later, you were lounging on the couch, catching up with some of your favorite tv shows. You needed a break from the gym, at least until you’d get your thoughts sorted. You didn’t know how he did it, but whenever you walked into the gym he was there, even though your gym routine was pretty irregular. Just as the credits of the latest Suits episode started rolling, Natasha suddenly barged into the apartment, making you jump.

“Jesus, what the hell?”

“I’m heading to the bar with my squadron, do you want to come with me?”

You sighed, burrowing deeper into the couch. “I don’t know… I’m so comfy. And I don’t even know anyone there.”

Natasha gave you a look, leaning her hands into her hips, which could only mean that you were about to get a lecture from her. You gulped. 

“You don’t know anyone because you always turn me down whenever I ask you to come out, seriously! I am not accepting a no.”

“Fine, okay,” you huffed with wide eyes, raising your hands in defense. “Just let me get changed, I guess.” With a nod, Natasha disappeared into the bathroom while you headed to your bedroom to get changed, reluctantly. While you were miffed that your plans of staying in had been thrown over, you respected Natasha enough to admit that she was right. Half an hour later, a cab dropped you off at the beach, in front of a small bar aptly called the Hard Deck. 

“Hey, is this like, a Navy bar?” you asked Natasha with a frown as you walked through the door. 

“Yeah. I did tell you that we were getting drinks with my squadron.”

Letting your eyes roam when you got inside, you noticed that almost everyone was dressed in uniform, one way or another, but luckily, there were some people dressed in civvies, so you wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. You stopped mid-walk, when you saw him, narrowing your eyes.

Gym starer. Because of course he’d be here. 

God was just pulling on all the strings in your life and laughing at you like you were his personal entertainment. It took gym starer a few seconds to spot you, but when he did, he basically spat out his beer all over the counter. 

“Jeez Bradshaw, what’s gotten into you?”

Natasha laughing, having rounded the bar, standing behind gym starer and clapping him on the back and while you gaped at her.

“You know him?”

Gym starer - Bradshaw, or whatever - was coughing, his cheeks flaming red as Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. 

“He flies with me. Bradley Bradshaw- Rooster’s in my squadron.”

“He’s gym starer.”

“I’m what?” 

“Ew,” Natasha only said, looking Bradley up and down, clearly unhappy with him. “Do you not know gym etiquette?”

“I wasn’t staring!” Bradley protested. “I mean, maybe I was, but I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I need a drink,” you muttered, moving over to the bar to flag down the bartender. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Natasha berating Bradley and him scowling at her, a bit miffed, before she rolled her eyes at him. 

“Hey, what can I get you?” 

Turning your eyes away, you looked at the smiling bartender. 

“Gin and tonic?” 

The bartender gave a brief nod, and went on to mix your drink, handing it to you after you slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter. You sipped your drink through the small black straw, relaxing slightly as the liquid burned in your throat. Your relaxation was cut short however, when you realized Bradley was walking towards you, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. Taking another long sip, hoping the liquid courage would help you out of this incredibly awkward situation, you raised your chin to look at him. 

“I, uh. Was made aware that I might’ve come across as creepy,” Bradley said, his cheeks still pink. 

“You think?”

Bradley winced. “I’m really sorry. I don’t like to bother people during their workout, but I just didn’t know how I was supposed to start talking to you. And when I finally got the courage to approach you, you kind of shut me down.”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, trying to think back when he came up to talk to you in the gym. 

“Wait… You mean when you asked me how many sets I had left?”

You didn’t think it was possible, but Bradley flushed an even deeper pink as he nodded. 

“Yeah… I actually kind of asked you out, but you didn’t hear me, so I just felt weird and made up a lame excuse.”

“Wait, what?”

Bradley chuckled nervously, and you only stared at him in disbelief. So Natasha was right. Now it was your turn to blush

“I didn’t realize,” you explained and Bradley waved his hands around, giving you an embarrassed smile.

“Don’t worry about it, seriously. I’m sorry, again. I understand that you’re not interested, I am not here to pester you or anything, I just wanted to apologize.” Bradley turned to leave, but you stopped him, grabbing his arm.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested!” You protested, making Bradley turn back to you, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a grin. 

“Yeah?”

You let go of his arm, rolling your eyes a bit. It was comical how quickly his facial expressions could change.

“Why don’t we start over?” Bradley asked, offering his hand. “I’m Bradley Bradshaw, nice to meet you.”

*

Zoe straightened her back after she adjusted her weights, letting her gaze wander through the gym. It wasn’t extremely busy and there were just a few people working out. She didn’t usually like coming to the gym after work, because she usually couldn’t get herself to leave her apartment after she got home. Today however, work was so crazy that Zoe had to release her stress somewhere, so gym it was. Zoe’s eyes stopped on the brunet guy when doing a double take when she noticed that his gaze was set on you and she could literally feel her eye twitch. 

She didn’t really know you, but she’s seen you around the gym sometimes when you were working out, always by yourself. The guy didn’t really seem too focused on his workout as he kept his eyes steady on you and Zoe bristled. Sometimes she really hated men.

Zoe tried to channel all her anger in her workout, while still keeping an eye on you just in case. Throughout her workout, she wasn’t able to keep her eyes on you for the whole time, but when she got into the changing rooms and saw you packing your bag, she sighed in relief. 

Shooting you a small smile, Zoe grabbed her bag and her jacket and headed outside, stopping in the doorway when she saw him waiting by the door. He looked up from his phone, looking at her puzzled when she only glared at him and turned on her heel to head back inside, the door falling shut in its hinges. She walked towards you, waiting until you looked up before she spoke.

“Hey, I’m Zoe,” she said and you introduced yourself as well, if a bit bewildered. 

“I’m sorry, I know we don’t know each other at all, but there’s this weird guy hanging around outside the changing rooms. We could walk to the parking lot together.”

“What?” you asked, confused and Zoe took a deep breath, laughing nervously.

“Um, there was this guy who kept staring at you while you worked out? I don’t know if you noticed, but he was pretty focused on you. He’s standing right outside the changing rooms like a creep.”

You blinked at her before your facial expression completely changed, as you burst out in laughter. Now Zoe was very confused. 

“Oh, please this is too funny. It’s really sweet of you, but I’m okay, really. He’s my boyfriend,” you explained and Zoe flushed. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said with a laugh. “He’s a bit dense sometimes. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

You swung your bag over your shoulder and Zoe had no choice but to follow you, even though she willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. When you opened the door, your boyfriend slipped his phone into his pocket, surprised to see Zoe following you closely. 

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked as you only snickered, shaking your head at him. 

“Babe, this is Zoe. Zoe, this is my boyfriend, Bradley,” you introduced them, and Zoe could only plaster on a smile, while Bradley shook her hand, looking at you a bit lost. “Zoe thought you were creepy because you were staring at me the whole time like a creeper.”

“Oh,” Bradley muttered dumbly, his cheeks tinging pink. “Sorry, bad habit of mine. But thank you for looking out for my girl,” he told Zoe and she laughed nervously. 

“Sure. We girls gotta look out for each other, right?”

“‘course. Hey, when are you coming here next?” You asked and Zoe shrugged with her shoulders. 

“I’m not sure yet.”

You reached for your phone, holding it out to her. “We could go together, if you want? I’ll leave Bradley at home if we do, I promise.”

Bradley only groaned, turning his face away and your face was split open in a big grin, so Zoe only smiled as she punched her number into your phone, before handing it back to you. 

“Great, I’ll text you, okay,” you promised, putting your phone away. “It was really nice meeting you Zoe.”

“It was nice meeting you too, bye.”

Bradley only waved his hand in wordless goodbye as you left, his arm wrapping around your waist. As you walked out, Zoe could hear the beginnings of your conversation. 

“-you. It’s creepy and clearly, I’m not the only one who thinks that!”

“I’m sorry! You know I want to focus on my workout, but you keep distracting me, especially when you wear those leggings…”

x

a/n: i like to think that while bradley does have game, he can be quite dense sometimes hehe. i hope you liked it!

taglist: @littlebadariell // @labellapeaky // @solacestyles // @shaded-echoes // @madielake //  @diorrfairy // @luckyladycreator2 // @ssaic-jareau // @xoxabs88xox // @averyhotchner   // @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  // @tiredqueen73 // @alexxavicry // @classyunknownlover

[lomltrentarnold]

caught you staring — trent alexander-arnold ₊˚ෆ

based on these gifs by @lexqa <3

warnings : no smut but it is a lil suggestive ;), trent’s a walking thirst trap, reader is kind of horny 🙄, teasing, some dirty jokes

hana notes : this was just stuck in my head i hope yall like it <3 /MAIN MASTERLIST

You should’ve looked away. You really should’ve. But your eyes wouldn’t let you.

Gaze glued to how his muscular back was moving, how fucking broad and big, he has gotten. It put you in a bit of a frenzy. Filthy thoughts clouding your mind as the memories of last night came flashing back.

Thank god you listened to him when he told you not to leave any marks. Because that would’ve been embarrassing. But also, you knew it would’ve fuelled your ego.

He started to slowed down his pace, you weren’t really paying attention to what the person was talking to him, all you could think about was how delicious he looked.

Trent could feel your stare the second he started on the treadmill, so it was no surprise when he turned around he was meet with your half lidded eyes, all dark with something he’s all too familiar with. He tried to hide his smug smirk, but you a glimpse of it and that only filled you more with need.

He hopped off the treadmill, eyes stuck on your lust filled ones, as he walked over to you. He reached over to take the water bottle beside you. Purposely leaning close, as his hand rests on your thigh. His musk and cologne all overpowering your senses. He is overpowering your senses.

He took the a big gulp of the water, making your eyes flickering down to his throat. His hand reached out and you gave him his towel. “Thank you, sweetheart.” he rasped out, the stinking smirk turning into a full blown smile when he see you shy away from the pet name.

He stood tall in front of you as he started to wipe his sweat, on his face, his throat, down his abs. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You were glad the coaches and other staff were discussing amongst each other so they don’t see the sinful act that your boyfriend is putting on.

You hate him. You really do.

“I hate you.” you muttered out, tongue poking the inside of your cheek, trying to fight off your smile. Cause although you know he’s teasing you, you didn’t mind the free show.

He raised his eyebrows, shocked and pleased at your sudden response. He smiled, before licking his full lips as you stare him with narrow eyes.

He leaned his face close with yours, completely disregarding your personal space. His minty breath fanned over your cheeks, nuzzling his face in between your shoulders blades and jaw before pressing a kiss onto your now heated skin. “Tell me that again tonight, baby.” he whispered, lips grazing your ears. He absolutely loved riling you up.

You could feel your skin heat up even more as your palm started to sweat. Trent stood up to his full height when the staff calls for him. He nodded his head before picking up his shirt and your stuff. He pulled you up, arm circling around your waist, pulling you to his sticky chest, but you didn’t mind.

“Is that a promise?” you whispered, eyes flickering to his lips.

He nodded, as his pupils dilated and he look as if he was in a daze. You didn’t even do anything but he swear he falls in love with you more everyday.

“Trent!”

“Coming!”

He looked back at you, eyes round and mischievous making you kissed your teeth when you realised his implication. “I truly do hate you.”

He smirked, it was just too easy, “Love you too babe.”

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[a-kind-of-merry-war]

I Hate You

Five times Ed told Xenk he hates him, and one time... he tells him he hates him again, actually.

2.3k, Rated T for swears.

~~~

1

Xenk strides ahead through the winding tunnels of the Underdark, his pretentious cape billowing behind him.

It’s like he has his own personal wind, Ed thinks. Probably generates it himself, the smug bastard, no magic required.

The eery little creatures on the walls around them pulsate gently as they pass, their shimmering tentacles casting a dim blue light across Xenk’s armour. It glimmers. There’s something oddly hypnotic about it. Ed wonders when he last polished it. He was probably polishing it that very morning, desperate not to get a speck on it.

Fucking paladins. Fucking Harpers.

Ed watches him forge on ahead with increased annoyance.

“I hate you,” he whispers. Xenk says nothing, but the tilt of his head is enough for Ed to know he heard.

*

2

After the incident in Neverwinter, Ed does not become rich beyond his wildest dreams. He does not bring home cartloads of gold. He does not swap out cotton for silk and linen.

What Ed does is quietly curse Xenk under his breath every time he thinks about what he could have had. He isn’t poor - heroes of the realm aren’t left to freeze and starve, after all - but he always wonders what life would be like with a little more lining in his pockets.

That is what makes him to take the job offer when it lands at his feet. Although it’s a difficult job to say no to - a request from the old Lord himself, who has sought out Ed and Holga’s skills personally, to deal with what he describes as a spot of bother in a town a few miles from the city. This time, Kira is undeniably nervous but seems keen for them to go: they’re heroes, now, she reminds them. For the first time, Ed realises that she’s proud of him, and that would convince him to do nearly anything.

He muses, as he dodges out of the way of the snarling creature that’s been eating the local’s sheep and goes barreling into a towering pile of hay bales, that he is very glad Kira cannot see him right now. For a baffling moment, straw poking him in all the wrong places, he has no idea which way is up, flailing wildly for something to grab.

And then he does. He wraps his hand around something firm and strong and cold and—

He's heaved to his feet. Standing in front of him, radiant in his armour and the dazzling light, is Xenk.

Ed quickly lets go of his arm.

“Greetings, Edgin.”

Behind him, surrounded by villagers making ohh noises, is the decapitated body of the beast that Ed had been fighting, not seconds before.

“I had it under control,” Ed says.

“Of course.” Xenk smiles.

Ed thinks of the reward money. Of the accolades. Kira’s pride.

“...I hate you,” Ed says.

The smile does not fade. “Of course.”

*

3

First things first: Ed stinks. The stink is everywhere, it’s like it's in his bones, under his skin, in his head.

At least the damn dragon is dead.

“Please, oh heroes, please help us slay the beast!”

Ed had such high hopes. On the ride from their home to the mountainside town, he and Holga had been excitedly discussing how they would split the dragon’s hoard. Gems, jewels, piles of gold: they’d be rich, even after splitting it five ways.

Five. It had taken five of them to slay a dragon last time, after all.

And then, of course, there had been no gems, no jewels, no piles of gold taller than Ed stood.

What sort of shitty dragon hoards garbage?

No wonder the townspeople wanted rid of it.

He slides from the huge pile of muck. He can hear Holga cursing behind him, something about "and it’s in my fucking hair, too", while Doric, transformed momentarily into an enormous bear, attempts to lift a particularly sticky slab of debris from Simon.

Ed tries to stand, slips, and falls down again. This time at least he’s got his mouth shut.

“Need a hand?”

Ed looks up from where he’s on his knees in what he really, really hopes isn’t raw sewage. For a moment, he’s blinded by the sun, then the shadow ahead of him shifts, moves, and suddenly the light is blocked.

Xenk peers down at him, illuminated from behind, one hand extended.

Ed does not take it but instead struggles to his feet, determined not to fall again. He spits as he finally manages to stand.

“How the fuck—”

Xenk is spotless. From his dazzling armour to his perfect cape and his flawless skin. There is not a speck of dirt or shit or mud or even blood on him.

For a moment, Ed can only gape at him with his mouth open. He feels something cold and slimy slide down his back.

“I hate you.”

He goes to push Xenk aside (he dodges, of course he dodges) and strides away.

*

4

How Xenk became a regular member of Ed and Holga’s party, Ed just isn’t sure. It’s not just him: Simon, of course, joins them often, as does Doric when she’s able or the need arises. Ed enjoys having them both around - even if their whole on-again-off-again thing is beginning to piss him off - but Xenk is another matter entirely.

What really annoys him, really, actually gets on his nerves, is the fact that everyone else seems to love him. Sure, Xenk is noble and clever and a brilliant fighter. Yes, he’s a keen tactician and diplomat and is popular wherever he goes, and of course he’s the best swordsman Ed has ever seen and is furiously, distractingly handsome, but—

Where was that thought going?

Right, yes. 

Everyone else loves him. But, of course, everyone loves Ed, too. Ed is just as popular, even if he is a bit more abrasive. Everyone loves a bard. That’s the way of things. 

This is, Ed knows, a dangerous path to let his thoughts wander down when he’s several pints in as they celebrate a decisive victory and is swiftly seeing those pints down with several more, just to keep the first ones safe.

Simon is describing a stunt that Xenk pulled off to an adoring crowd of onlookers. Ed isn’t even sure what part of the daring deed he’s talking about, but the way the crowd is enraptured by his story is grating on him regardless. 

Ed sees back his pint, nearly drops the tankard on the table, and the words spill from his mouth before he can stop them - not that he would try anyway.

“I hate you,” he mumbles.

Simon doesn’t stop in his story. None of his audience notices. 

But Xenk looks up. He catches Ed’s eye across the table. This, Ed thinks. Let this be it. Let him drop that stupid facade and throw himself across the table and hit me. Go on. He eggs him on in his mind. He wonders what his face is doing. Do it, he thinks. Do it. 

Xenk… does nothing. He smiles, the bastard.

The next thing Ed remembers is being poured into a bed in the roof of the inn. Someone is holding him up, making sure he doesn’t trip. There’s a metallic sounding clang that puts his teeth on edge, and when he rolls over he realises that someone’s placed a mental bucket beside the mattress.

“Sorry.”

He looks up. Xenk leans over him. No: he doesn’t lean over him. He’s standing a measured distance away, holding himself carefully.

Ed mumbles something. Xenk smiles again.

When Ed wakes up, horrible dawn light slicing across his face, he’s alone.

*

5

It’s all gone a bit wrong. Ed would be the first to admit when it goes wrong, but this time—

This time they’re truly fucked.

They shouldn’t have gone in with three people. But everyone else was busy, and they were running out of time, and so they entered the tower as a trio: He, Holga - and Xenk.

He’s been getting sort of used to having him around.

Which is what makes this—

It’s what makes this so bad.

He hoists him up over the edge of the demolished floor, pulling him up onto the stone beside him. Holga calls from somewhere up above - she’s coming to get them. Just stay there. Just hold on.

That’s what he mutters to Xenk, too, as he pulls his armour away. 

Ed has never seen Xenk’s cloak stained red, before. The colour looks wrong.

Xenk’s eyes are closed. Ed’s hands shake as he strips off the armour. Xenk would hate to see him treat the expensive plate so carelessly - not that he would see fit to tell him that himself, not in the sort of language that Ed would use, anyway.

Ed presses his hand’s to the paladin’s chest. He’d feared this. Not this exactly, but the fear of being without a magic user is what forced him to finally tap into his buried bard’s magic late sometime last year. The going has been rough, even with Simon’s - and, to Ed’s surprise, Xenk’s tutelage. He’s learnt little, but enough.

It has to be enough.

Ed’s hands stain Xenk’s shirt in scarlet smears. Xenk's blood is hot. Like this, he suddenly seems human. Fragile.

Ed mutters the healing words. It’s the only healing spell he knows, and he’s shitty at it and exhausted to boot, but at this stage he’s willing to try anything.

He feels the magic course through him, down his arms, into Xenk’s chest. There’s a strange, floating moment where he feels the steady thud of Xenk’s heart in his hands, all the way up into his core. Ed can feel his eyes drooping. He’s so tired.

But Xenk opens his eyes.

“Ed?” 

Ed’s never seen him look so scared.

No: that’s wrong. He’s seen him look this scared once before - the moment the hand had wrapped around his torso and pulled him over the edge into the darkness.

Everything hurts. Ed pulls his hands away, and feels himself falling.

“I hate you.”

And then it all goes black.

*

+1

A gentle wind carries with it the smell of fresh leaves and summer wildflowers. Behind Xenk, hooked neatly on the protruding branch of a tree, his cloak moves in the breeze like ocean waves.

Edgin is unusually quiet. He’s leaning against the tree, his lute on his lap, although he isn’t playing. He stares out at something that Xenk cannot see.

“Edgin?”

There’s no response. Xenk goes to sit next to him, crossing his legs and settling straight-backed at his side.

After a few more moments of silence, Edgin finally speaks.

“It’s been a year, you know.”

Xenk turns to look at him. He does not pay too much attention to the passing of time: the celebration of dates and numbers.

“Since?”

Edgin does not respond, but sits up properly, leans forwards, and tugs at the open neck of Xenk’s undershirt, exposing the edge of the twisting scar that splits his dark skin.

Oh. He supposes it has been a year: although it feels like far less time has passed. A lot has changed in a single year - a lot that once terrified him. It feels less frightening now.

“I see.”

“Do you?”

There’s a sudden heat in Edgin’s voice. Like he’s held these words back for too long, and now they’re scorching him.

“Do you see, Xen? Do you really?”

Xen. Xenk cannot remember the last time someone gave him a diminutive name. This is another thing that’s changed in the last year. Before, he would have demanded his full name. But now… Now it makes him feel like he belongs. He belonged to the Harpers, in a way. He had taken dozens of oaths, oaths designed to make many feel like one.

But this— this is different. It was different when Edgin and Holga accepted him as one of the gang, and it’s even more different now, sitting here alone in the sunshine with Edgin.

Ed.

“I—” he struggles with his words, now. He never did before. “Tell me how you see it.”

Ed takes a deep breath. 

“It’s been a fucking year, Xen,” he says. His words have cooled but not extinguished, like fresh-forged red steel. “A year since I thought you were dead. Since we—”

Xenk knows what he’s thinking of. He’s remembering that night - the night after Ed had pulled him back from the brink, nearly throwing himself over in the process. The long, still evening broken by the quiet, quickly smothered confession.

“I told you I hated you,” Ed says, finally. His words are just steam, now. Light and ephemeral.

“You did,” Xenk agrees. 

“I never— I never said sorry.”

“I know you did not mean it.”

Ed’s expression cracks. “Part of me did,” he admits, at last. “I hated you for— for leaving us.” And then, even more quietly: “...leaving me.”

The air feels heavy around them. Xenk twists around to better look at him. He takes Ed’s jaw between gentle fingers, feeling the scratch of his stubble, the gentle puff of his breath when Xenk rubs his thumb against his lip.

Ed does not resist as Xenk pulls him forwards and presses their lips together. Even now, it still thrills him - fills him in a way that all the magic and oaths in the world could not. Xenk thought he knew goodness, until now. He thought he knew devotion. He was wrong.

When they finally part, Ed stares at him with wide, dark eyes. He looks like a man lost.

He blinks once. Twice. And then his expression splits into one that Xenk has grown both familiar and fond of: a cocky grin to shrug off the fact that Ed has just experienced an emotion.

“You mushy bastard,” he says. “I hate you.”

Xenk grins, and kisses him again.

“No,” he says. “You do not.”

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [2 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: As you begin to acclimate to life in the pack, your new leader seems to take a keen interest in your ability to survive. 

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: i really hope you guys enjoy this next piece! mind the warnings ❤️

You run your tongue across your chapped lips before reaching for the skin of water hanging from a long strap across your shoulder. The liquid inside is over-warm from the sun hanging mercilessly overhead, but you are grateful for it still. 

Where are we even going?

The river had been days ago—three, perhaps four at your best estimation—and the pack had been pushing on ever since, riding out into the grass sea further than you had ever thought possible. When you had asked, your father had told you simply that there was nothing out there, his breath stinking of ale as he reminded you to keep your mind to your housework, else he would ensure you found out for yourself. And now, for all the fates cruel humor, you had found out anyway. 

You had been spared death at the river, but the same luck that had kept you breathing now also bound you to the blue-eyed-orc and his pack. You had tried twice already to sneak away in the darkness, only to find yourself practically nose to nose with your captor, his eyes bright even in the dark.

Dangerous out there in the dark, Sweetmeat, he’d said, turning you around with one huge hand on your shoulder, tapping the flat of his blade against your backside as your cheeks flamed with hot anger and embarrassment. If you’re looking to raise an army for vengeance, you should ride in daylight. Even now, your face heats with anger. You had no intention of riding to the capital to raise the alarm—even if you knew how to get there, you doubt anyone would care for the fate of a tiny village in the borderlands. 

You slip dangerously in the saddle, yelping as you grab for the reins, righting yourself. You had never ridden a horse before now, much preferring to watch the huge beasts from afar rather than subject yourself to them up close. The stallion beneath you seems to know it, tossing his head irritatedly as you pull back haphazardly. 

“I’m afraid the saddle is too big for you.” The voice startles you, and you almost slip down out of the saddle again as you whirl to look at its source. Mirthful blue eyes meet your own. “We shall have to find you a smaller one.” 

You glare at him, your mouth stubbornly shut. 

“Oh come now. Are you still angry about last night?” He makes no effort to hide his amusement. You keep your jaw locked, refusing to answer—which only serves to amuse him further. Finally, your ire loosens your tongue.

“You would have killed me three days ago,” you bite out through gritted teeth. “And left my corpse in the dirt.” 

“Aye,” he answers, cocking his head. “Yet I did not.” Somehow, this enrages you even more. 

“You hunted the others for sport—” You half choke on the words. “You ran them down like dogs.”

“What use is a lame horse, Sweetmeat?” He asks. “Or a dog that won’t hunt?” There is no derision in his words, only indifference. “I cannot ask my riders to carry that burden.”

“So you kill them.” 

“Aye.” You see reflected in his eyes the same cool apathy a wild dog might give a rabbit. “Would you ask a wolf to apologize for feeding its strongest cubs, Little One?” You bristle, but he continues before you can speak. “Perhaps because it is removed from you, you do not see it. But I have seen it. I have seen your great cities of men, and the bodies that line the ditches of their streets. There is death for them everywhere.” You want to deny the truth of his words, but they settle on your skin like oil. “Better a quick death by my steel than a slow one beneath the heel of the man you call King.”

He stops his horse, and you mirror him, watching the orc warily. 

“If you wish to return to it, you’ve my blessing to do so, Sweetmeat. May you go and die in whichever way seems best to you.” 

You are overcome with the urge to dig your heels into the stallion’s sides and take off, to cut through the swaying sea of grass like a clean blade—but you hesitate. 

Your life in the village had been one of little note and much misery; tending to your father as he sickened himself with either too much ale or for the want of it as the days ground on and on. You’d felt little sorrow at his passing, considering he’d blacked your eye only three days prior. There were, no doubt, several villagers that had escaped on horses of their own, racing back toward the mountain to warn others of the orc-pack roaming the borderlands. You suppose you could rejoin them—the same people who had watched as your father’s druken rages consumed him and done nothing to help you. 

Your skin prickles with distaste. 

“No?” He asks after a lengthy silence. “Then let us ride on.” 

You watch sullenly as he takes his place at the front of the group, the other riders falling into a loose line behind him. 

—

No one offers to help you as you struggle down from your horse when they break to make camp, and you drop unceremoniously to the ground. For the most part, the rest of the pack ignores you completely, regarding you with the same indifference one might pay a rock as they go about setting up their bedrolls and hobbling the horses. They dwarf you as you all line up to fill your water skins, and the one with chestnut hair—-the blue-eyed-one had called him Buck—narrows his eyes at you. 

“What’d you do to earn water today?” He sneers. “Get to the back. We’ll see if we have any left for you.” You dig your heels in gritting your teeth despite your fear. The protestation is there on your tongue, but before you can voice it, someone else speaks instead. 

“Give her the water, Bucky.” The blue-eyed-orc rests a hand on his shoulder. 

“Steve, she will do nothing but slow us down and rob us of our food, our water—”

“Calm, Bucky.” He holds up a hand. “The human will hunt tomorrow, and tomorrow she will earn it. Tonight, give her the water.” For a moment there is tension between them, a charged current you can’t see, but it soon breaks. Reluctantly, Bucky fills your water skin, shoving it into your hands with a grimace. 

“It was fine to give her Roth’s horse—he fell, he’s got no need for it now,” Bucky spits irritatedly. “But Tarrath’s a fortnight’s ride from here. She’s going to need to earn her water.” He frowns at you. “Like the rest of us.” Steve nods his understanding. 

“Aye. She will. Consider it half my portion.”

Angrily, you shuffle back over to your horse and begin unstrapping your bed-roll from its back. Nothing has been said outright, but you sleep away from the others, setting your roll up at the edge of camp. You know you aren’t welcome. You know you shouldn’t care at all for your usefulness, but you aren’t sure you’d fare any better wandering the grass sea alone. Your horse—Roth’s horse—stares down at you judgmentally while you wind the length of rope around his front legs, and you frown deeper. 

“Even the blasted horse,” you mutter, kicking aside a few loose rocks as you lay down the roll beside him. You don’t know how to hunt—it wasn’t as if your father had taught you, and you doubt he had the knowledge to do so in the first place. There is large bow strapped to the saddle, thus far untouched by you, and gently you undo the bindings. It is heavier than it looks, and you hold it aloft clumsily, the string biting hard into your fingers as you struggle to draw it back. 

“You won’t catch anything like that.” 

You don’t turn to look at him. 

“You didn’t have to give me your water. Steve.” He chuckles at the sound of his name on your lips. 

“I won’t be doing it again, Sweetmeat. So you’d better learn how to use that thing.” This time you do turn. He is closer than you anticipated, and you squeak with surprise as he plucks the bow from your hands with ease. “Hold it up, like this.” He draws the string back, the muscles rippling across his bare chest. “This is the sight, here, this notch.” He runs his thumb over the place where the arrow head will sit. “Come.” 

When you don’t move, he grips your hands firmly, winding them around the bow. 

“Like this, put your hand here.” His hand curls over yours, covering it completely. You’re practically trembling when he pulls away, your palms sweaty against the lacquered wood. “One last piece of advice, Sweetmeat.” 

“What?”

“Don’t miss.” 

to be continued

next

[neverknoah]

I love the concept of Noah and y/n being more than friends but not quite in a relationship yet 😮‍💨 all the sexual tension and giddy feelings of it being new and yet they are so scared to push the boundaries of becoming official and risking the friendship 😫 can you please elaborate and give fluff of just some moments in that time. Like them sneaking touches or inside jokes to the point where everyone sees it but them, that they are so in love 🧍🏻‍♀️🗿 I am a sucker for friends to lovers

oh my goodness this is so stinking sweet!!!

-everyone around yall can see it clear as day but the both of you are too scared to admit anything because you’re too scared it will ruin the friendship the two of you have had for years

-yall definitely have little inside jokes that only you and him get where someone will say something and the both of you look over at eachother and start belly laughing and everyone around y’all is just like 🤨

-i feel like if the crew is having a movie night you and him are snuggled up together. even though yall aren’t together you look very coupley snuggled up together sharing a blanket

-noah loves to hold your pinky in public/big crowds because it makes him feel more comfortable that your safe and he can keep his eye on you. it gives you the biggest butterflies in your tummy

-be brings you little knick knacks from touring and has a special story behind it or a special meaning to ya’lls “friendship” *wink* *wink*

-I do not know about y'all, but I am definitely shorter than noah, so if you are taller.... I'm sorry, skip this one. But, noah definitely makes fun of you sweetly, like he'll rest his arm on your head ike an armrest or he calls you nicknames like "mouse" or "bunny" or "thumbelina." I can imagine thumbelina becoming like a second name to you where the entire band also starts calling you thumbelina because noah started it

-noah is also just a very affectionate person in my head. he loves to hug you and hold your hand and just small gestures of touch that make your tummy erupt into butterflies

-I think if the strings of his hoodie are messed up or his hair is doing something weird you'll just fix it for him and sometimes it catches him off guard. you being so close to him without him being able to really touch you, but he can smell your shampoo and feel the smoothness of your skin while you fix whatever was out of place. it gets him flustered really fast.

Also along with this is after you've gone shopping you'll do a little try on haul for him. modeling all your new clothes and him asking you to do a spin so he can admire you the outfit in all it's glory. THIS gets him so flustered so fast that afterwards he has to have some "alone time."

-I think how you guys actually end up a couple is super sweet and spur of the moment. You came to surprise Bad Omens on their last show of tour and when the concert concludes the guys are running off stage with no idea that you're there and when Noah spots you his eyes light up all big and he's running over to you, engulfing you in a big 'ole sweaty hug and you're definitely squeezing him back. When he releases his hug on you he's staring into your eyes and you're looking back up at his eyes so full of love that he can't help but kiss you then and there. Of course you're a little shocked at first but you're immediately melting into his lips and tugging him closer.

Meanwhile Nicholas, Jolly, Matt, and Folio are all like

wathcing the two of you. But, at the same time they're all like "for fucks sake finally."

When Noah pulls back his only words are "thanks for being my biggest supporter." and you response with a "forever and always." and he leans back down to kiss you again.

thank you, anon, for sending this in. sorry it took me so long to get to it!!!! I hope I did your ask justice <3

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Hope things are going well for you!

Could you do a Gibbs x y/n where there son falls at home and gets a broken arm and y/n feels horrible/guilty that she let it happen under her watch. He meets them at the ER where the son refuses to let him go and y/n won't meet his eye. On the way home he holds her hand and convinces there son that his cast is cool and he can ask others to sign it. When they get home he goes to play. Gibbs finds y/n crying asks him "why am I such a bad parent"

Bad Mom?

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 2461

Warnings: Mild language, blood, injury, gore, angst…

A/N: Hopefully, this is okay! I really enjoyed writing this! Sorry it took so long for me to get this done! Xx

You hum softly as you continue working on the salad to go with dinner. Jethro would be home a little later, but you always make sure he comes home to a nice, relaxing dinner.

Your guys’ son, Maddox Leroy Gibbs, was upstairs playing with his newest birthday gift. Jethro had got him a wood-carving kit and now Maddox couldn't keep his hands off it.

All of a sudden, you heard thumps before the most pained scream you've ever heard. You dropped the glass bowl of salad, ignoring the glass shattering on the ground as you race towards the crying.

There was Maddox laid on the ground, cradling his arm. You fall to your knees beside him and gently grab him.

"Baby, hey, I need you to tell me what happened. What hurts?" You ask softly.

"M-My arm!" He wails.

You gently pull his hand away as your stomach flips and your throat tightens seeing blood and bone. He screams, wailing louder.

"Look away." You demand as you stand, picking him up as you grab the keys and your phone on the way out.

You barely were able to lock the door as you run out towards your car. You get him in the booster seat, grabbing the first aid kit and quickly taping gals over it loosely so he wouldn't be able to see it.

You hurry to the drivers side, starting to drive the way that Jethro drives. You open your phone with shaky hands and dial his number. It rings and rings until it says his mailbox was full. You throw the phone down in the seat next to you as your shaky hands grip the wheel tighter as you break every driving law to make it to the hospital.

You were out of your car, running to his side of the car as you swung the door open, picking him up and running inside. Immediately nurses flank you, having you place him on a gurney before your told to move your car.

You felt irritated, but you also understood. You quickly move you car before finding your way inside. You weren't allowed to go in the room with him as they had an officer on the way to question you. You knew they thought this was some abuse case, but it wasn't. You grab your phone dialing his number again and you kept dialing until he finally answered.

"Hon, I'm in the middle of a case right now." He says irritated.

"J-Jethro, h-he fell down the stairs and he hurt his arm really bad. T-They won't let me see him! They have an officer coming to question me because they think this an a-abuse case!" You sob into the phone, ignoring the nurses who gave you the stink-eye.

"Hon, I'm on my way. Do not answer any questions. Tell them your waiting on me." He says sternly.

Before you could say anything, he had hung up. You let your head fall into your hands as you cry harder.

"I want my mom!" He wails and you stand as you rush towards him.

"Ma'am, you can't see him until you've been questioned and cleared." A nurse snaps, pushing at you.

"He's my son! I'd never hurt him! Let me see him!" You snap, trying to push through towards your son.

"Mommy!" He wails.

"It's okay, baby! Daddy's on his way!" You say as tears fall down your cheeks and big burly security guards push you back towards the little sitting area in the hallway.

They cuff your hands behind your back and make you sit as you refused to leave. You looked at the ground, your head racing as terrible thoughts went through your head.

Jethro parks his car hastily, getting out of the car as his team followed him in. He tried to get them to stay and work on the case, but they refused. Maddox was their nephew and they'd do anything for the kid.

Jethro walks in, his eyes finding you. For a brief moment, he felt relief until he saw the cuffs on your wrists.

"Take the cuffs off her, now." He barks, striding towards you.

"Sir—now!" He interrupts.

The security guard fumbles with the keys as he roughly pulls you up before Jethro pinned him against the wall. Tony grabs the keys off the floor, undoing the cuffs on your wrists.

"Don't you ever put your hands on my wife like that again." He warns.

"Hey sweet cheeks, your okay." Tony murmurs as he hugs you.

"They won't let me see him." You mumble numbly into his chest.

"They will once Gibbs is through with them." He teases and you couldn't help the small shaky smile.

"Hon, come on." Jethro says.

You walk towards him, keeping your eyes casted to the floor. His arm wraps around your waist protectively as he walks towards the desk.

"Where is my son?" He demands.

"S-She needs to be questioned." The nurse says weakly.

"My wife wouldn't ever lay a hand on our son. He fell down the stairs, kids have accidents all the time. Let me see our damn son." He snaps.

"O-Of course, right this way sir." She says and starts to lead us towards the room he was in.

You hesitate and hang back towards the doorway as Jethro heads towards Maddox who was sat up in the bed with a light blue cast on his arm.

“Daddy!” He exclaims, throwing himself towards Jethro who chuckles and catches him.

You catch sight of stitches across his eyebrows and you let a shaky breath out.

“Careful buddy, you can take someone out with that thing.” Jethro teases which makes Maddox giggle.

“I don’t really like it. It’s going to stop me from being able to do my wood carvings.” He pouts.

“I think it’s a really cool cast. You can have people sign it even! And you can take a break from the wood carving, son. I’ll get you some more while you got the cast on so we can let the supplies build up.” He says.

“Okay! Uncle Tony, will you sign my cast?” He asks.

“Of course! I even so happen to have a sharpie on me!” He exclaims with a childish grin.

Your heart aches and you sit down as you watch Maddox with soft and sad eyes. Jethro was in the corner of the room, on the phone with director as he kept an eye on Maddox as well.

You look away from Maddox and at the floor when a nurse walks in. She looks at you as if you had the plague, in which Maddox notices and frowns.

“Why are you looking at my mommy that way?” He snaps.

The nurse was taken aback as you look up alarmed. You stand, walking over to the bed and reach a shaky hand out to brush his hair away from his eyes. You leave a kiss on his head.

“It’s okay, baby.” You murmur.

He looks at you confused. He was a smart child for his age. He definitely had his fathers profiling skills, that’s for sure. He looks back at the nurse, his eye narrowing as he latches onto you, hugging you tightly. Jethro was grinning in the corner as your lips part in surprise.

“Ma’am, we still have to follow protocol.” The nurse says in which your heart shatters.

“Protocol? Mommy, what’s she talking about?” He asks, looking up at you with Jethro’s blue eyes.

“It’s nothing, baby. Mommy will be back, I promise.” You murmur.

“No. I’ll be back, buddy. Mommy will stay with you.” Jethro says.

You watch confused as he leaves with the timid nurse. Tony throws an arm over your shoulder and smiles.

“Trust me, boss will handle it. Your a good mom, don’t let them tell you otherwise.” He says.

“Are they saying your a bad mommy?” Maddox asks confused.

“I-I, no…they just have to follow protocols they put in place to keep people safe.” You explain slowly.

Thankfully, Jethro was back quickly and even somehow managed to get his prescriptions whilst filling out the discharge papers. Jethro sent the team back in the work car and was going to drive you and Maddox home. Tony offered to drive Jethro’s car home, but you settled on taking Jethro to work tomorrow as you felt guilty for calling him from work early.

Maddox was asleep in the backseat, and you were focused on the building and other structures out your window. Jethro kept glancing over, sensing you weren’t okay. He grabs your hands and squeezes it gently.

“Sorry I snapped at you on the phone earlier today, hon. I don’t want you to think you can’t call me. For now on, I’ll answer immediately if I’m not out in the field.” He promises.

“Jethro, I’m not upset you didn’t answer or that you snapped at me. I know your working on a case right now.” You say softly.

“Then what has you upset?” He asks as he pulls into the driveway.

“Nothing.” You lie, getting out of the car.

“I’ll get him. You get the door opened.” He says.

You nod, heading towards the door and unlocking it. You are greeted with blood on the ground and you immediately grab your cleaning caddy from the closet and start cleaning it up. Jethro walks in, holding Maddox. He frowns seeing your shaky hands scrub at the puddle of blood.

“Hon, I got that. Let me go put him in bed and then I’ll clean that up.” He says.

“No, it’s okay. I got it. Here, you go on up and I’ll finish this up.” You say quietly.

You move just enough so he can get up the stairs. He gets to the third or fourth step before looking back down at you concerned. His eyes find your bruised wrists and his frown deepens. He turns, focusing on getting Maddox up to bed.

“Daddy.” Maddox mumbles sleepily.

“Yes, buddy?” He asks softly, tucking him in.

“Why did the doctors think mommy is a bad mommy?” He asks.

“Because they are a bunch of knuckleheads and don’t know what a good mommy you have. Don’t worry about it, buddy.” He says.

“Daddy?” He whispers as he starts to fall back to sleep.

“Yes?” He asks.

“Can mommy give me a little brother or sister?” He asks.

“I…I mean, I’ll talk to mommy and see what she wants to do, but she loves you so much. I think she’s happy with just you.” He murmurs.

Little did Maddox know, Jethro was scared to have another one. He was scared to have Maddox after what happened with Shannon and Kelly. He barely let you in and then finding out you were pregnant nearly sent him over the edge. You loved kids and you want a whole damn school bus of kids.

Maddox goes to say something, but it was little mumbles before he was softly snoring. Jethro chuckles, brushing his hair out of his forehead before leaning down and kissing his head.

He heads downstairs to see the blood cleaned up. He goes to the kitchen where he heard you. You were sweeping up the salad and broken bowl into a pan.

“What happened?” He asks, taking the dust pan to hold it.

“When I heard Maddox scream, I just dropped the bowl and ran for him.” You mumble quietly.

“Hon, go take a bath and relax. I’ll finish the clean up. I promise you that Maddox is okay.” He says.

You hesitate, but with a stern look from him, you nod slowly. You head up the stairs, starting your bath. He finishes up the floor before he cleans up what would have been dinner. He does dishes and takes the trash out before deciding to check on both Maddox and you. He checks on Maddox first to see him sleeping.

He nears the bathroom before slowing his steps as he hears your muffled crying. He walks in and sees your face buried in your knees, suds covering your bits from view.

“Hon, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asks, kneeling by the tub.

“Why am I such a bad mom?” You sob.

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” He asks.

“He’s hurt because of me, Jethro. Those nurses had every right to look at me like that. I’m a terrible mom. There was blood, everywhere and the bone was sticking out. His screams…gosh his screams were so loud. I didn’t even notice he cut his eyebrow until I saw the stitches.” You sob.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. He’s a kid and kids have accidents. Maddox loves to run throughout the house and we could tell him until we were blue in the face not to run in the house. He slipped and fell. It wasn’t your fault. You know how many times I got hurt as a kid? A lot. We can’t protect him from everything as much as we wish we could. Things like this will teach him why we tell him not to run in the house or why not to go outside barefoot. We can only do so much. Your an amazing mom. He knows so.” He murmurs, rubbing your back.

“I can’t even look at him. I feel terrible. It’s all my fault.” You whisper.

“It’s not your fault and you know that. He knows that and I know that. He knows your a good mom. He told me when he woke up briefly because he caught onto the way the nurses were treating you. He actually wants another siblings. He told me.” He says, sighing as he plops on the ground.

Your head flies up, your eyes wide as you look at him. You reach a hand out and grab his hand, rubbing it gently.

“You know we don’t have to. I know how scary it was when you found out I was pregnant with Maddox. I am perfectly content with Maddox and you.” You say softly.

“I think I might want another one. Maybe we’ll get a little girl this time.” He murmurs.

“Really?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah.” He says with a soft smile.

“Your such an amazing dad, Jethro. Maddox absolutely loves you. He always tells me that he wants to be an NCIS agent just like you.” You say with a soft smile.

“And your such an amazing mom. He tells me all the time. He also tells me how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you proud. Whether it be cleaning up his toys or helping with the groceries. He loves you and he idolizes you so much.” He murmurs.

[0vergrowngraveyard]

“Y’know keed, I think you could reach the stars one day.”

The look Tails gave him made him chuckle. Big blue eyes stared at him with confusion and his head tilted to the side.

“What?” He asked.

“I said ‘I think you could reach the stars one day’.” He repeated, chuckling again at the bland look the kit shot him. Even at just four years old, he had a nasty stink eye.

“S’not what I meant.” Tails hopped off the branch he was sitting on and made his way over to where Sonic was laying in the grass. He sat down next to him and looked up at the beautiful night sky. “I mean what do you mean? That's way too high up! I can’t fly that far!”

Sonic held up a finger, “Not yet, maybe, but someday you’ll be able to!” He tucked the hand behind his hand again as a makeshift pillow,

The kit furrowed his brows as he continued to look at the sky, thinking about what Sonic had just said, until he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

Sonic looked up at the kit next to him. His big ears had lowered against the back of his head as he looked longingly at the sky.

With a sigh, Sonic opened his arm, a silent invitation for the kit to lay next to him. Tails quickly snuggled up next to him, his namesakes draping across him.

“Well, kiddo,” Sonic started, squeezing the kit closer to him, “You could do anything you put that big brain of yours to so yeah, I think you could do it”

The fox didn’t respond right away so Sonic turned his gaze back to the stars above. He almost thought that the kit had fallen asleep until he tensed up next to him.

“But it would be lonely up there…and I don’t want to be lonely…” His words tugged on the young speedster’s heartstrings. The kid had been alone for a while, maybe even longer than he assumed. In a way, they could relate to each other in that way. It’s not like Sonic had parents waiting for him somewhere, the only family he ever needed was laying next to him, cuddled up against his side.

Sonic wouldn’t let Tails be alone, not anymore.

“Then I’ll just have to go up there with you!” He said, giving the kit another squeeze.

Wide blue eyes turned towards him like he didn’t expect that answer. “Really?”

Sonic chuckled, “Absolutely! Always wanted to see what it looked like up there! And what better way to check it out than with my little buddy!”

Tails looked at him, considering his words for a bit before he smiled and nuzzled into his chest. “If you’re going too, then I’ll try my best.”

Sonic looked down at him to the best of his ability. “Yeah?”

Tails let out a big, squeaky yawn. “mhm…”

A fond smile spread across his muzzle as he looked at the stars, holding his baby brother close to him as the kit drifted off to sleep.

“I’m looking forward to it, lil’ buddy.”

——————

This wasn’t the most ideal situation to be in.

The hedgehog sat alone, surrounded by the rubble of an exploded Eggman base.

He wasn’t sure why it exploded. It was a little dramatic, and not to mention totally rude, of the doctor to blow up his own base while he and Tails were inside. All they wanted was to delete a few files and completely trash the place!

Sonic was worried about his brother, they had been separated during the countdown and he had no clue where the kid was.

He would be turning this place inside out looking for him if it wasn’t for the world spinning due to a head injury and his leg being broken.

Oh, and the metal rod stabbed through his side, causing him to quickly bleed out.

Yeah, it was far from ideal.

But it would be better once he knew his kid was safe and judging from the vitals visible on his communicator, it seemed like he was fine.

He just hoped he’d be able to see him before-

“SONIC!” A young voice called out. “SONIC! CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

A smile quirked up in his muzzle. Looks like dying wishes do come true.

“I’m…I’m over here, bud!” He called back. He cringed at how weak his voice sounded.

The sound of the fox moving debris around and making his way towards him filled the area until he watched the kit duck under something as he finally came into view.

A horrified gasp came from him as he looked at the hedgehog who was sitting in a small pool of his own blood.

“Hey, buddy…fancy seeing you here.” He coughed out.

“Sonic!” Tails was at his side in an instant. His breathing rapidly increased as he looked over his big brother, not knowing what to do. “D-don’t worry! I’ll get you out- I’ll get you out of here! I promise! Just hang on”

“Tails.”

The kit brought up his communicator and seemingly sent out a quick distress signal to anyone who would see it. “It’s okay- it’s gonna be okay. Let me…I- I can…“ Tears started forming in the kit’s eyes as he struggled with his words, the gravity of the situation crushing him.

“Tails.”

His little brother looked at him and oh how Sonic wanted to get rid of that expression on his face. He didn’t want those tears to be there at all.

“I’m so, so proud of you, bud.” Sonic smiled at him, “I…I didn't tell you that enough….”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Tails yelled, tears pouring down his cheek, “You’re gonna be okay! I- I promise! I’m gonna fix this! I- I swear—!“

His breath hitched as the hedgehog’s trembling hand weakly cupped his cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears. Tails held the hand closer, eyes squeezed shut as he nuzzled against it as he whimpered.

“Hey.”

Tails opened his eyes and for a precious second, all Sonic could do was stare into them.

Next to yellow, Sonic’s favorite color was blue. Not because he was blue (at least that wasn’t the entire reason, only part of it), but because whenever he looked next to him, aside from yellow, that’s the color he saw the most.

Those big baby blue eyes of his little brother. He watched them go from dull, hopeless, and terrified to bright with trust and wonder. He would do anything to keep those eyes shining.

Though, they were shiny with tears now, which made Sonic sad. He didn’t want the kit to be upset, he didn’t deserve it. His kid deserved nothing but joy and the best the world had to offer.

“This isn’t on you to fix, lil’ buddy. Please—“ He took in a shaky breath, “p-please don’t blame yourself for this…”

Tails just cries into his hand, tears mixing with his brother’s blood. He chokes out apology after apology. Sonic doesn’t understand why he’s apologizing, he didn’t do anything wrong. The kit could never do anything wrong in Sonic’s eyes. Call him biased or accuse him of having tunnel vision all you want, he could never get mad at Tails.

Especially not for this, not for something that wasn’t even his fault.

“Bud, can I ask you a favor?”

Tails’ nods his head violently, face still nestled in his brother’s hand. “Mhm!”

It took a moment to find his voice.

“I-I want you to explore the world for me…”

He knew it was kind of an odd request to be coming from someone like himself, someone who traveled the world almost daily, but he had his reasons.

It was his way of telling the kit not to shut down when he goes. Not to hide from the world, but to continue to embrace and protect it.

To keep living in it.

Tails pauses as he slowly looks at the hedgehog, confusion etched on his face. “B-but…but you’ve-“

“I know…” Sonic weakly chuckles, “I’ve seen all over Mobius more times than I can count.”

“Th-then why-?”

“Because you haven’t, lil’ bro.” Sonic interrupts him, “I want you to see it all too.”

Sonic fights down a cough before he continues, “So can ya do that for me, bud? Go see the world?”

Continue to live. If not for yourself, then for both of us.

Tails once again nodded, pressing against his hand again, “Yes! I promise! I promise I’ll see everything! The tallest mountain, deepest cave, I’ll be there! I’ll be there…!”

Sonic smiled.

Good

He let out a sob, “But…but I want you to be there with me! I want to see it all t-together…”

The hedgehog let out a chuckle that almost sounded painful, “I’ll be there bud, always…just not, y’know, physically.” He coughed, “But you’ll n’ver be al’ne. I’ll ‘lways be right by ‘ur side.”

More tears fell down Tails’ cheek as his words started slurring. Looks like his time was almost up.

His smile wavered a bit. He wanted nothing more in life than to see what his little brother would accomplish in life. He wanted to stand there with him, to be his shadow for once, to watch the kit shine his light that’s been covered for so long.

It hurt knowing he wouldn’t get to see it. It hurt so much more than the metal rod sticking out of his side. It hurt more than the head or leg injuries he sustained. It hurt more than any little cut or bruise he had on his battered body.

But hey. It’s the thought that counts, right? He sure hopes so.

Chaos, he’s so cold. He didn’t even realize it until now. Someone should turn up the heater in this place or something.

There's only one part of his body that feels warm: the hand his brother is holding.

Tails was always so warm. He was lucky he had such thick and fluffy fur. Sure, it sucked in the summer when he would shed and overheat, but it was nice every other season. He loved his brother’s fur, his namesakes, his big ears and, Chaos, he really did love everything about him.

His kid really was amazing.

He silently beckoned Tails to cuddle up against his side, just like he’d do when the kid was having a nightmare.

If only this could just be a nightmare. Just a horrible, horrible nightmare.

The fox seemed to understand that his brother was freezing and he quickly curled up against his side. His namesakes draped across his lap and curled around him and he hugged Sonic, burying his face into the crook of his neck. He could feel his short fur getting soaked with tears but he didn’t care. He never cared about something like that.

He let his head settle on top of the kit and he closed his eyes. He was warm and cuddled up with his baby brother.

He couldn’t think of a more perfect way for him to go.

So with one last, and long overdue, “I love you” (the pained cry that came from the kit broke his heart), he let himself fade.

He couldn’t wait to watch Tails reach the stars from above.

[ssaeri]

we fall to ashes

☆ tags: alex x gn!reader, he finds something that he never expected to see on your farm, this was going to be angst with an angst ending, but then my sister begged me to not write a sad ending, so have this relieving happy ending instead, LOTS of alex spoilers! ☆

Alex stretches his arms over his head and breathes in deep. In the distance, he hears chickens screaming—a sure sign that he's getting closer to your farm. The walk from his house isn't short, but while his grandparents would complain about the distance, he finds it ideal for cooling down after his harder work-outs. And he gets to see you at the end? He'd say that's a winner winner chicken dinner situation...out of earshot from your coop, at least.

"Hey there! Evelyn's boy!" Pam calls from his right.

He slows to a stop and waves. She sits in the driver seat of her newly repaired bus, window fully open, and takes another swig from her Joja Cola. Immediately, her face scrunches.

"Mornin', Pam!" he yells back. "How's that alcohol detox going for you?"

"Awful." She smacks her lips and holds the can up to her eyes, searching the ingredients for what makes it so fucking nasty. You often joke that it's the bitter taste of capitalism. "I could go for something stronger in this heat. You think the farmer has an extra glass of pale ale?"

Alex's smile tightens. Ever since Pam and Penny's trailer turned into an actual house, Pam's been doing her best to break old habits and he's glad for it—he can finally walk by her without the reflexive gag and hurried steps. You telling me I stink? she used to ask, angry in her drunken stupor, until she remembered why he showed up on his grandparents' steps nearly two decades ago.

She must read it in his expression now because she waves him off with a roll of her eyes. "I'm kidding, kid. Tell 'em I said hi. They're the only one who takes this damn bus anyway. I might as well take a nap." She slides sunglasses onto her face and reclines her chair until he can't see her anymore. "If I'm still here by the time you go home, wake me up."

Classic Pam, he thinks as he continues to your farm. Your dog is already running from the front door to greet him, panting and barking and disturbing your horse's peace.

"Come on, buddy," he laughs, shooing your dog until he can push open the gate. "I was supposed to surprise them."

Alex scratches your horse's ear as he passes its stable. Grape vines twist and sag on the trellises you've set up for the season, the structures nearly bursting with fruit, and he makes a mental note to stop by tomorrow to help with the harvesting. Maybe it could substitute for a work-out. He's helped you ship boxes of produce before and wondered how ripped he'd be after a month of your lifestyle. Between the trellises, the melons are just starting to come in. He doesn't know how long it takes for them to ripen, only that they taste really good when you drop off a basket for his grandma.

He calls out your name. Not in the fields, not in the pasture. Your new greenhouse, maybe? You were muttering something about ancient fruit last night. Or the mushroom cave, something he still can't believe is a feature on your farm. If Demetrius could add that, maybe Alex could talk you into installing an outdoor lifting station.

He walks past your workbench and active machines...

...and walks backwards again, hoping that his eyes are deceiving him. Crystalariums reproducing diamonds to sell, charcoal kilns working double time for enough coal, bone mills churning out fertilizer, geode crushers crunching rocks into pebbles, furnaces roaring as they smelt ores into bars—and right on top of the furthest furnace sits a wrapped bundle he's only seen in his (second to) worst nightmares.

He hears your content humming now, somewhere in the main farmhouse. Under normal circumstances, he would've called it cute, but the sound rings mockingly in his ears as he approaches the darkened flowers. A wilted bouquet. Fuck.

.

.

"Oh, hey there!" Alex called out as you got closer. He tossed his ever-present gridball into the air. "You here to catch fish again? I think you can find salmon in the river this time of year. At least that's what I heard."

Once you came to a stop in front of him, you shook your head, hands still behind your back. "I'm not fishing today," you said. "I actually wanted to give you something."

"Yeah?" His lips quirked into a grin. Another toss into the air. "Wouldn't happen to be a Salmon Dinner with extra lemon, would it? Those are one of my favorites, but I can never catch any salmon myself. Another egg would be cool, too. I've been adding your weekly deliveries to my workout meals."

You only shifted from one foot to the other, unable to take your eyes off his shoes, and a part of him faltered. You weren't intimidated by him, were you? Ever since you found him crying on the beach, he had been a little more flirtatious than usual, layering on the teasing and showing off. Maybe he came on too strong. Haley always told him that subtlety wasn't his strong suit. The grip on his gridball changed as he tossed it higher.

"You okay there? Did I do something...wait, this is—ow!"

The ball bounced off his head and landed in the grass, but he couldn't care less. He pointed to the bouquet in your hands. Not a regular bouquet, but the Bouquet made to order by Pierre. In a place as small as Pelican Town, there was no need for Pierre to have it in constant stock, so when the signature blooms made the rare appearance, they attracted everyone's eyes.

"...you want to get more serious?" he asked, incredulous.

Something in your expression changed, and you drew the flowers back to your chest. "Oh, sorry, did you not?" You gave him a wide smile, already stepping away. "I must've read the signs wrong. My mistake."

"No! That's not—I mean, you read the signs correctly. I, uh, I feel the same way." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face flush. "So I guess we're together now? Should I be asking you out on a date or something? Or wait, are you asking me out on a date? How does this work?"

You laughed, a genuine sound this time. "We can continue the way we were before."

And so you did, but some things changed for sure. He could hold your hand now as you ran errands around the town, carrying half of the gifts you handed out to the townspeople. He could kiss you goodbye at his door in the evenings, though George cleared his throat loudly every time. Alex remembered making some snide comment about his grandpa, who yelled out a gruff I heard that! before being shushed by Evelyn. When It Howls in the Rain was being shown at the town theater, you bribed him to a screening with the promise of Stardrop Sorbet, but as much as he loved the treat, he would've gone anyway—it was one of his favorite movies with one of his favorite people. Good thing he'd seen it before because he spent most of the time staring at your side profile, wondering when he could finally go pro and have you stare at him on a screen.

.

.

Your dog nips at his fingers. He pets it absently. He thought everything was going fine between the two of you. Just yesterday, you came over and had dinner with him and his grandparents. You told them about your mining adventures in the Skull Caverns and, to his horror, showed off your old stitches from Harvey. (George chided your reckless behavior and gave old-timey advice that you nodded along to.) You talked about the new farm you're setting up at Ginger Island—Ancient Fruit wine all year! you told them excitedly. It's a farmer's heaven!—and the Beach Resort you're trying to restore. (Evelyn hummed at your energy, asking rapid-fire questions about the flora there.) You even promised to bring over a season's worth of eggs and leeks as soon as you got your hands on them. (Alex's mind flashed to the old mariner and the mermaid's pendant he could see hanging around your neck in the future.)

So why is a wilted bouquet sitting here, right on top of your furnaces?

No point in guessing when he can just find out the answer right from the source. He takes the flowers and goes to your door, knocking twice. It opens before he has time to second guess his choice.

"Alex! I didn't know you were coming over," you say, beaming at him. He wants to immortalize this version of you: face full of dirt smudges and t-shirt collar soaked through with sweat, yet glowing in your element. Until your eyes drop to his hands. "Oh, that's..."

He sets his jaw. "Can I come in and talk?"

Your expression falters further at his cold tone, but you step back and lead him to the living room. Your dog trots in and settles by the TV, head on its paws, watching with blank eyes. Alex sits in his usual spot and you yours, and suddenly he hates how familiar he is with your space.

It's still silent.

You clear your throat. "So," you start, wiping your palms on your jeans. A nervous tick he knows well. "What did you want to talk about?"

He puts the bouquet on the coffee table between you.

"Right." You pause, likely waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't say anything. "Alex, can you at least be less mean about this? I feel like you owe me that much after all this time together." He says nothing. "Like, tell me what's wrong instead of sitting here stone-faced. Things were okay. Why are you breaking up with me—"

"Why am I breaking up with you?" He barks a laugh. "Baby, I found this outside on your furnace! I'm not going to beg for you to stay, but what the hell is this?"

Your forehead furrows. "What? I wouldn't."

"If it's not yours and it's not mine, then whose is it?"

"I don't know! Alex, I wouldn't—I never even thought about breaking up," you insist. "Why would I lie about that?"

After scrutinizing your stricken expression, his relief comes in waves. He sinks into your couch, hands rubbing at his face.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just—" He laughs again, the sound mostly air. "Yoba, that scared me. If someone left this here as a prank, I'm hunting them down tonight." He lifts his head to look at you and opens his arms. "Can you come over here?"

You wrinkle your nose. "I'm gross."

"You could be playing in mud with your pigs, and I'd still jump in."

With a roll of your eyes, you hop over to curl into his side and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You stink, but so does he after a good workout. Now that he thinks about it, he's still in his gym clothes.

"You scared me, too," you tell him, gaze trained on the table. "Not the best thing to see on a Friday afternoon. But now I want to know whose this is. Did you check it for clues?"

"Didn't bother. Thought it was yours." His arm around your waist tightens as you lean forward. "Does it matter?"

But that doesn't stop you. You have the bouquet in your lap now, prying at the blackened ribbon and wrapping. "Look at this," you say, holding it between two fingers. "The ribbon isn't blue, and Pierre always uses blue. The wrap is pretty much disintegrated, but this corner—he always puts his store brand." You suck in a breath. "Oh, duh! Where did you say you found this?"

"The furnaces right outside by the workbench."

"Okay, so mystery solved. This is mine, but not in the way you think."

He raises an eyebrow. "Explain. Don't say you're breaking up with a secret partner because I don't think I can handle a second shock right now."

"I made a wildflower bouquet to put on Grandpa's grave a few days ago, but I totally forgot where I put it, so I made a second one. This one must've been the one I misplaced."

He blinks. "How the hell did you not notice it since?"

"I came back from Ginger Island yesterday and went to sleep right after dinner! The flowers must've wilted from the furnace heat."

"You," he says slowly, pinching your cheek and ignoring your squeak, "are the absolute worst. I can't believe you nearly broke my heart and it turned out to be a whoopsie."

[threelionsgirl]

hiii i hope you’re okay x idk if your taking any requests at the moment so feel free to ignore this if your aren’t, but if u are could u write something for mason mount where the reader is an actress or model or something and masons had a celebrity crush on her for ages but then he finds out they’re going to meet for the first them at an interview they have to do together! u can decide everything else like if he’s nervous or really flirty when they meet xx

the interview | mason mount

warnings: none word count: 1527 notes: hi anon, yes the requests are open, it's just been a long time since I've written, and I wasn't sure how to get back, but I'm on vacation so fuck it, feel free to send more requests!!! by the way, I couldn't decide whether to do nervous!mase or flirt!mason then I did both! masterlist | requests are open!

The knock on the door caught Mason's attention. He was in his dressing room waiting to have his makeup done. That day he was going to be on an interview talk show, and he was excited.

"Mason?" was the producer of the show, poking her head into his dressing room. "Is it okay if you share the dressing room with someone else? We had a little incident, it would just be for makeup."

"Sure no problem." He agreed without elaborating. The only information he had received before arriving was that he would only be one of two special guests for the interview that night.

When the door opened again and Y/N walked in, Mason couldn't believe his luck. Mason had had a crush on Y/N for years. He had seen all of her movies, especially those that were part of the Marvel franchise, and had fantasized about meeting her, and now here he was, about to share a dressing room with her for an interview that they would do together.

As soon as Y/N entered the room, Mason's heart skipped a beat. He tried his best to stay calm, but he couldn't help but feel nervous around her.

"Hm, hello?" she smiled, and he tried not to look like an idiot.

"H-h-hi." Shit. Why the hell was he stuttering? It wasn't in his profile to be so nervous in front of a woman, but Y/N's beauty was really otherworldly.

"Sorry to invade your space like this, but they left something rotting in my dressing room, and now it's the biggest stink in there." She laughed, waving her hand in front of her nose, remembering the smell. "I'm Y/N by the way, actress." Mason only realized that he had been drooling for so long, enchanted with Y/N that he barely noticed that she had a hand outstretched toward him.

"I-I know who you are." He faked a cough to try to get that damn stutter to stop, as he squeezed her hand.

"Oh you do?" She raised an amused eyebrow.

"Yeah, I think I've seen all your movies." He was sure he had seen them all.

"Oh, so I have a fan?"

"Yeah, I guess you do." He laughed gracelessly and decided to complete. "I'm Mason."

"You play football, don't you? I was told that's what it was."

"Yeah, I play for Chelsea."

"I'm not very familiar with the sport, but you're one of the best players in the country, aren't you? It must be hard to deal with all that pressure."

"Yeah, it's complicated sometimes, but I love what I do…" Mason had to confess he was in heaven to have Y/N there with him and so interested in what he was saying, but that nervousness didn't seem to want to go away, and he seemed to prefer to look everywhere rather than look at her and do something silly. "Sorry… Do you want something? I swear I didn't finish like all the stock in the fridge."

Y/N laughed lightly noticing his nervousness and moved a few steps closer towards him and touching his shoulder which made Mason shudder.

"No need to get nervous in front of me, Mount, I usually treat my fans very well." She blinked with one of her eyes, and Mason arched his eyebrows.

Wait a minute, was that a flirtation? It had to have been a flirtation by the way Y/N said the last sentence, with a certain malice. But Mason didn't have time to find out because the make-up artist, Margot, entered the trailer, interrupting them.

They didn't have much more time to talk alone because in minutes they were being driven to the studio to start recording the show, but the glances they had exchanged since Y/N's last sentence had not gone unnoticed by Mason.

The interview went well, he and Y/N had already talked about almost everything involving their lives while the host alternated with jokes to lighten the mood. The one this time would be Mason, who would participate in a "Marry, kill or kiss?"

"So Mason, Gal Gadot, Scarlett Johansson and Y/N. Who do you marry, kill or kiss?" The host asked, and Mason looked at the audience. The idea was to make him look dull, but he didn't because he saw an opportunity there. He looked at Y/N who was sitting next to him. She raised an eyebrow at him, really interested in his answer.

"Hm, I think I marry Scarlett, kill Gal and kiss Y/N."

A chorus coming from the audience filled the room and Y/N looked slightly positively surprised.

At intermission, when they returned to the dressing room, Y/N asked the first thing she thought of:

"So, you would kiss me, but not marry me? Why?"

"Because kissing you is one thing I can do now." He winked, confidently, taking Y/N by surprise. She had expected to hear anything but that, but she smiled witlessly, so Mason realized that she had enjoyed it. She wanted him to flirt with her, and that was enough to make him put all nervousness aside. He knew he had to make the most of this opportunity.

Margot appeared to touch up his makeup, and soon they were back on the couch to restart the interview. Y/N felt that the second half was being different, Mason was different with her, he seemed more at ease, more playful, and she couldn't ignore the shivers she felt every time her hand accidentally brushed against some part of her skin.

What she didn't know was that everything Mason did was on purpose.

The interview must have been almost over when a blackout covered the entire studio, leaving almost everything dark except for the lights coming from the cell phone screens.

The director warned them that they were having a problem with the power outage, and the producer turned to the one of those still sitting side by side.

"Mason and Y/N is it okay if you guys hold on for a bit? It's a minor technical problem, and we are already fixing it."

"No problem" Y/N replied, staying a little longer than planned would not be a problem for his schedule.

"With Y/N's company, I can wait all day." He replied simply, and Y/N looked at him. Even in the dark, she could see the wink he directed at her.

"Okay what's this?" She asked, sitting up so that she was facing him. "Stop flirting with me."

"Why? Is it working?" He laughed, getting a little closer.

"You don't seem like the same shy guy from half an hour ago."

"I'm not shy, but I confess that meeting you made me nervous." He said low, just so she could hear. Mason ran his fingers up her arm, making circles on the bare part of her shoulder, and that time Y/N didn't know if she could concentrate on his words and the touch at the same time. "Because I have to admit, I've had a crush on you for a few years now."

"Oh yeah?" Y/N asked, licking her lips. She thought the nervous Mason was adorable, but the flirtatious Mason was thought-provoking and much more interesting. "I have to admit that I think you are very sexy, and I would also kiss you in 'Marry, Kill or Kiss'."

That was all the fuel Mason needed to put all shyness aside and follow Y/N. It was dark enough to sneak back into the trailer without anyone noticing.

He just waited for her to close the door tightly before pulling her around the waist and pinning her to the wall, his body keeping her from moving. He brought his mouth close to hers, trying first to feel her breath, and almost laughed at her anxiety.

In the dark, they kissed passionately, Mason's hands traversing Y/N's body as she gave herself over to the moment. The sound of their quickening breaths was the only thing audible as they crumpled together in the trailer.

The touch of their hands and the pressure of their bodies against each other were a mixture of sensations that left them breathless. They knew they couldn't stay there forever, but they wanted to enjoy every second of it while they could.

"Let me know if you want me to stop." Mason whispered as his hands moved down from her waist to her hips. When he squeezed her ass while distributing kisses on her neck, Y/N found herself unable to ask him to stop.

The return of the light was the only thing that could separate them, reluctantly, knowing that they had to get back to the studio before someone came for them. But the gleam in their eyes showed that the moment they shared would never be forgotten.

"So…" Mason began half-heartedly, but extremely pleased.

"Now you're going to have to give me a lot more than a kiss, Mount." She said before they went back into the studio to wrap up the Talk Show.

When they said their goodbyes, Y/N gave Mason a mischievous smile and told him to keep in touch. Mason left the interview feeling like he was on cloud nine. He knew he had just had the best day of his life and couldn't wait to see what the future held for him with Y/N.