#which is a little comfort though not like… a lot right now

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

The Viscount is set on finding a wife this season, and you are trying again for your second season. While Anthony is dealing with trials between Edwina and Kate Sharma, you are dealing with trials of your own. Benedict Bridgerton is ever present in your life, but your pursuit to find a husband must come first. Society is ever so exhausting.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season Two

Chapter Twenty - The sisters

You step out of the carriage and look around you. The first ball of the season was always a grand affair. This one in particular as the queen had not yet chosen a diamond.

Last season, Lady Whistledown called Daphne Bridgerton a diamond of the first water, which made her stand out in the ton. Now, the queen was expected to choose a diamond every season. One lucky debutant would sparkle among all the others.

You take your mother's arm and head inside. Many were already present. Lots of lovely young ladies looking for partners for the evening. Your mother leaves your aide to go speak to some of the other mama's.

You stand alone near the entrance and look around. You couldn't spot anyone you knew. You decide to take a walk around the room.

Nerves were setting in. It was strange. You felt like you were doing all of this for the first time again. A few gentlemen glance at you as you pass by. You smile. They smile back. You keep walking.

As you make a turn about the room, you spot the Bridgertons arriving. You see Eloise dressed in a beautiful gown, yet looking uncomfortable. Violet looks very proud and excited. Then there's Benedict. Handsome and smiley.

You move quickly out of sight to avoid him. The way he had sketched you yesterday and what he had said had caused butterflies to rise in your stomach. You're not sure what to make of him right now.

While you try hard to avoid the gaze of the Bridgerton family, you do not escape the sight of Lady Danbury. As she sees you loitering around corners, she calls your name. Startled, you turn quickly in her direction. With a beck of her finger, you make your way over to her.

"Lady Danbury."

"Allow me to introduce you to my guests this season. Lady Mary Sharma and her daughters. Miss Kathani Sharma and Miss Edwina Sharma."

"Delighted," you smile at them.

Mary smiles politely at you. Her daughters do, too. Edwina, in particular, shares a striking resemblance to her mother. You take a look at the two sisters. Kathani is taller than Edwina, who is rather petite. Both of them have eye that sparkle in the lights of the ballroom. Their smiles are kind, though you sense a little nervousness from Edwina.

"A pleasure. You must call me Kate," the eldest of the two says, stepping forward ro greet you properly.

"Kate. I am looking for friends this season, I would be delighted to help make you both feel more comfortable this season if Lady Danbury agrees?"

Lady Danbury gives you a nod with an amused glint in her eye.

"I would be delighted. As would my sister, I'm sure." Kate turns to look at Edwina.

"Very much so." Edwina smiles.

Edwina's voice is higher than Kate's. She speaks softer, too. There are clear differences between them, but at the same time they are rather alike.

You smile at them both.

Lady Danbury comes up beside you and leans in rather close. "Avoiding your friends?"

"Not exactly."

"No? It looked to me like you were hiding." She chuckles.

"I was merely taking some time to myself. I need to get back into this. Last year did not quite go to plan." You avoid looking at her.

"Good things come to those who wait. I recommend branching out and growing your social circle. Miss Penelope Featherington could perhaps use another friend."

You look in the direction Lady Danbury is looking. Penelope stands among mamas gossiping, no doubt. You get the hint and make your way over there, hoping to spend time with the Sharma sisters again soon.

Perhaps this year is, in fact, a good time to make mkre friends. It gives you an excuse to avoid Benedict for a while, too.

"Penelope," you greet her softly.

"Oh, hello." She smiles shyly.

"May I keep you company a while?" You ask.

"Would you not prefer being among the others?" She asks in return.

You glance around the room and then back at her. "For tonight, no. I think I would much prefer to be a wallflower."

Penelope smiles slightly.

"How are you?"

"I am well." She nods. "Just... biding my time, I suppose."

The truth was that Penelope was watching and listening. Though she couldn't quite tell you that, or for what purpose. You would never believe her anyway.

"Is that Lady Mary Sheffield Sharma?" Portia asks, watching the Sharma family walk by. Kate smiles at you as she passes. You smile back at her. "I can't believe she would show her face here again," Portia continued.

"A scandal, mama?" Cressida asks her mother.

"Lady Mary was the incomparable of our season, until she fell in love with and married some kind of clerk, I hear. The two of them absconded to India, thereafter."

"A maharajah I would have understood, but the man was no more than a common worker who already had a child." One of the other mamas chimed in.

"That must be her. The older one," Portia points out toward Kate. You look at her from beside Penelope. There was no denying Kate was gorgeous.

"Lady Mary's parents, the Sheffields, never lived down the shame, did they?"

"Too ashamed to show their faces in London."

"If only every family could be as respectable as ours. Yes, Lady Featherington?" Lady Cowper chuckles softly.

You don't see Portia's response, too focused on watching Kate and Edwina.

You turn to Penelope. "No luck for you either?" You ask softly.

"Hm? Oh. No..." Penelope looks down shyly. "Excuse me." She leaves your side and walks away. You sigh softly. You ignore the chuckle of Cressida behind you and walk off in the other direction.

You have so far managed to successfully dodge Benedict, and for that you feel great relief. He must be preoccupied elsewhere. As you walk about the room you spot Edwina being asked to dance by Lord Corning. He's a tall handsome fellow with a good background. Edwina dances elegantly with him.

"Do you know him?"

You turn to find Kate looking at you. You smile and shakes your head. "Not personally. I know of him. He's very kind."

Kate watches her sister quietly.

"Are you not dancing?" You ask.

"I am here for my sister. Hers is the only match I care about. What about you?" She asks in return.

"Oh, no. I don't think I fit into society. It's too busy, too wanting. I don't think there is a perfect match for me. I got close last season, but it did not work out."

"What of him?" Kate nods across the room. You follow her gaze and find Benedict looking at you. He makes his way over once you spot him.

"I must go," you excuse yourself and flee.

Kate watches you go, and then watches Benedict follow the path you have taken. She wasn't sure what that was about, but she felt inclined not to intervene.

You find refuge in a dark corner behind some flowers. You sigh as you lean against the wall. Dodging Benedict all night was going to be harder than you thought.

"Are you hiding from me?"

You jump and turn to see Benedict looking at you. "No."

"It seemed like you were."

"I just need some space. All that dancing..."

"I didn't see you dancing." Benedict reaches for your dance card. "Your card is empty."

You take your hand back and sigh. "I'm sorry. I was just... confused."

"About that?" He asks.

"Forget about it. Why aren't you dancing?" You ask.

"I'm avoiding the mamas."

You chuckle softly.

"Dance with me?" He asks.

Your heart skips a beat. He offers you his hand and you know you can't really say no without making him worry. You take his hand and let him guide you to the floor. You join in with the dance.

Benedict looks at you as you both dance. "So tell me, why have you been avoiding me?"

You know he's not going to let this go. "I was embarrassed, I suppose."

"Embarrassed? Why?"

"Can I ask you something?" You ask softly.

"Of course."

"What do you see when you look at me?"

Benedict is struck into silence. He wasn't expecting that question from you. He has to remind himself that you're both dancing and take care not to step on your toes.

"You're beautiful, kind, honest, smart. You brighten up a room just by being in it. Your smile is genuine. You worry a lot, but I like that about you. It shows just how much you care about things and people. If I like you, other shall surely adore you."

You feel breathless. Benedict always knows just what to say to send you into a tizzy, but his last few words stung. He likes you, but not like that.

You put on a brave smile.

"Thank you, Benedict."

You both finish the dance, and he escorts you over to the refreshment table. He grabs you a glass and takes one for himself. You both sip your drinks. Before either of you can pick up the conversation, Violet comes over and leans into Benedict's other side.

"Have you seen your sister or your brother?" She asks, looking rather flustered.

"They managed to escape you? Good for them." Benedict smiles.

You nudge him harshly with your elbow. Benedict lets out a quiet ow and walks away, leaving you with Violet. You turn to her with a soft smile. "I'm sure they're not far."

Violet smiles softly and nods. "Have you two made up then?" She asks, referring to you and Benedict.

"Made up?"

"I was under the impression something happened." She looks a little confused.

"All is well. Your son has helped me see something in me I hadn't noticed before. That's all."

Violet smiles and then shifts her gaze as Lady Danbury approaches. You greet the other woman and she nods at you with a pleasing smile.

"Lady Danbury. Splendid evening," Violet comments.

"For the most part. There are a few guests whose absence I might not have regretted."

Lady Bridgerton laughs. "I do hope I'm not one of them."

"You and I have common interest this season, it seems." Lady Danbury tells her.

"I heard. Your wards, I look forward to meeting them."

"I met them earlier," you chime in. "Two very beautiful ladies."

Violet seems pleased by your words.

The two ladies talk away, and you find this a good opportunity to sneak away. You miss Kate and Edwina leaving rather quickly from the ball, unaware what had occurred between Kate and Anthony in the garden.

Benedict finds you again rather quickly. He comes up beside you and looks around. "Has my mama ended her pursuit?"

"I don't know why you're worried. She has her hands full with Eloise and Anthony. I don't envy her position with those two."

Benedict chuckles. "Is my mama not helping you, also?"

"She has offered her assistance, yes. Yet, I do not expect to come first. Her own children are her priority, and for that, I understand. I think I shall push the subject to the back of my mind for now."

Benedict regards you quietly and then nods.

The rest of the evening passes in quiet company with the second eldest brother. He sees no reason to leave your side when he's finding himself enjoying his time so much.

He even escorts you outside at the end. Everyone is too occupied with themselves to pay any attention to you two.

Benedict sees that you get in your carriage safely and bids you farewell. You wave as the carriage leaves. He watches you go before joining his family again.

Another season, another opportunity for chaos to arise.

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

[cutielando]

can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?

a/n: had a lot of fun writing this one!!

♡♡♡♡♡

You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood. 

Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.

Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.

You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.

It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.

He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.

Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”

It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.

Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.

He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.

It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.

And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.

But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.

“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.

But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.

You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.

Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking. 

“Are you okay?”  Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.

You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.

He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it. 

When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.

“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.

Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.

You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other. 

As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.

I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.

♡♡♡♡♡

Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.

He went to you.

He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you. 

Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.

“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.

He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did. 

Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.

Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.

Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.

The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.

“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.

“Yes, we should have”

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[kizoken]

cw: whiney satoru, hate sex from your end, afab!reader, mdni, hand job, sub!satoru.

⤷masterlist

⇢ ˗ˏˋthis became hella long for some reason, its like 1k words 👩‍🔬

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗟 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗫-𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗?; is what you typed in the search bar on your laptop. your eye began to twitch in the midst of scrolling down to find the answers to your predicament.

each and every 'answer' google gave you are: legal or psychological advice, which was the last road you wanted to ride on. satoru was... harmless, to you at least. he was just hurt. and needed to cling to a safe space. however, you were not that safe space anymore.

'hi sweet!'

'how's ur night?'

'i miss u'

'like a lot'

'i think i left some stuff at your apartment,,, may i come for them?'

and so on, the myriad of texts jingles through your laptops' notifications. a month and a half, you had broken up with satoru gojo a month and a half ago. and he somehow always forgets things he left in your apartment and texts you how you are, how your studies are going, or sending you drunken audios telling you how much he misses you. even escalating to tell mutual friends how much he loves you and desperately wants you back.

any other man would have ruined your life by now, but satoru's devotion to you was unshakeable. it was you, you, you, you, you, you, you. you plagued his mind every second of the day. he told you this in one of the countless nights he found comfort inside you. he would never hurt you. you were sure of that.

he was just a little obsessive, that's all. in the end you felt terrible, for him, and for yourself.

'tomorrow afternoon, come.'

'stop bothering.'

you were not a fan of being mean to your ex, though being this direct might steer him to lower his intensity. even though if you found it somewhat cute.

'alright see ya >w<'

a giggle rose from you as you watched the last message he sent for the day. you slammed your computer shut at the thought of your ex being somewhat cute by his way of texting.

he is not. he is suffocating, that's what he is. that is why you broke up with him in the first place. the pound of your head on your pillow reprimanded you into logic. and now, he was going to be at your apartment tomorrow. whatever the near future held, you soothed yourself to sleep.

"hi sweet!" satoru poorly hid his smile behind a single tulip flower unlike his eyes which were always hidden behind his round sunglasses.

in contrast, you kept your words to yourself, only gesturing the man to step inside to look for his belongings. as he should. satoru eagerly made his way inside and gave you the flower, you had not even a smile to offer him as you coursed yourself to throw the plant on the garbage bin.

"awwe sweet, why must you hurt me so."

"you're here for one thing, and one thing only," his pout was swiftly erased while hearing your words with no emotion, "get your stuff quickly."

"y-yeah, you're right." he then disappear from your line of view and you can finally puff out the air you have been holding.

'how in the world did he manage to look so good even after all this time?'

it was the circling question that kept you in a choke hold. in your mind, he should look like a mess. you wanted him to be. although everything is in the details; his hair inched further down his former clean-cut frame and some stubble began to peak out from his smooth face. his buttoned-up shirt had wrinkles here and there but, it made the angelic, almost god like man, to look normal. even daring to say in the brink of a pathetic look.

you took a moment to sit down on your living room couch and collect yourself. the thought of him a complete and utterly obvious mess stirred some found emotions inside you. and grew at concerning rates while thinking about it.

"all done. sorry for bothering you." he showed his pearly teeth with a cheeky smile while telling you such bold-faced lie, "so..."

he trailed closer to where you sat, "i guess i won't be seeing you in a while-"

the box you had prepared for him to place his thing in, tilted as one of his hands reached to settle on the back of his neck, "shit!"

gojo cursed as he saw one of his signed baseball balls fall onto the ground and roll under your grey couch, "i'll get that."

swiftly he ducked on his hands and knees to look for his precious item under your furniture. however, his position made your eye tick and scratch that part of your brain that made you have this disdain and attraction towards your ex.

his tucked shirt skid upwards, revealing your ex's smooth milky skin and back dimples. you did not recall ever seeing his body divots. were you so blind as to not pay well and good attention to someone who you're supposed to like?

somewhat and somehow your fingertips began to trace along his dimples and spine, sending shivers all along his now stiffened body, "oh, uh-shit...sorry."

you shifted your weight away from gojo, as you avoided sight of him, quite flustered, "i-i really didn't know what i was doing."

gojo had taken the ball in a rush and straightened himself. his back facing you while settling his belonging on the box, "no, please... keep going."

"what?" you finally settled your vision on him, fidgeting and obviously anxious. however, he reached for the hand that caressed his back.

"keep touching me... please."

"so this is what you wanted huh?" the pitchiness in your voice lowered. was he planning to lure you in once more? to his unforgiving hands? to your utmost disdain and misfortune, he was winning you. just like he wanted.

"i knew you were pathetic. but begging for my touch? bending over? you really hit rock bottom, huh?" you inched closer to whisper near his face. his silver hair had the scented fragrance of strawberries, which lured you in further to his body.

melodies of pleasure seeped from deep within satoru through his fine lips. the graze of your fingertips alone made him tread the fine line of his sanity. a bubbling feeling of distaste overcame you, with him and especially yourself. because it was ridiculous of you to feel this way due to him being under your ultimate control.

now your hands traversed through his toned abdomen, from his clothed nipples down to where his bellybutton is supposed to be, "should i go lower?"

the stiff tent in his pants was prevalent and seemed painful enough. and along with your melt worthy touches, satoru could only nod and nudge his face near yours.

as he desired, you unzipped his pants. not only was the bulge ever present, but a wet spot dampened the soft fabric of his underwear. and with zero hesitation you let his dick free out of its confinement, only to find the sweet, pleasurable relief of your touch as you began to stroke along his base.

"more, s-sweet, mmhhm, more~"

a low laugh emerged from you, marveling in awe and repulse at his pleadings, "spit on your cock and i'll go faster satoru."

from your lidded eyes you see the string of drool leave his lips and land at the tip of his cock. with your thumb you began to coat around it, sticky with his own drool and precum, the white-haired man could only grip at your thighs in ecstasy. his praise fueled word echoes through your mind, rendering you to pump around his length faster and occasionally palm his balls.

at this point satoru, a carefree man to most, was under you mumbling in a lovestruck trance. chained to your presence alone, and you thought how fun it would be to just let him cum with just your words.

the moment you stopped giving attention to his length, your ex desperately reached for your sticky hands, trying to make you go further and for him to find that sweet release with your guidance.

"cum right now or i won't let you fuck me in the couch right after this." you commanded, and not long after strings of heavy cum sprinted towards your living room table and the box of satoru's belongings, "shit. now that impressive."

his head laid limp on your shoulder. his dick twitching happily, "c'mon." you taped his arm.

his sky eyes were blown out from his release, however he looked quite puzzled.

"i'm fulfilling my end of the promise..." the t-shirt you had on flew somewhere else in the room, leaving you bare chested. satoru now more composed than before, began to fiddle around with the fabric of the couch. it seemed like he wished to convey his thoughts to you, though you were the one to encourage him to speak.

"what... are you gonna make me kick you in the balls now?"

reblogs and comments are appreciated ᜊ(𐭅" ॑ ॑")𐭅♡

[phangneh]

Voice in the Abyss

[ CHAPTER Ⅲ]

✨Manhwa : Into The Light Once Again

✨Elmir royal family x Fem!Reader

✨Warning : princess!reader, lost memory, yandere elements (both platonic and romantic), protect, ... (will add more)

📌Note: this is just a fanfic, there are many details unrelated to the original story line. English is not my native language, if I make grammatical mistakes or use incorrect words, please forgive me.

🎭Summary : You have a voice that is said to change the world, when you sing, your sweet voice makes people happy and all things flourish. One day, your kingdom was destroyed, you had to live with the pain of losing your family and being severely mistreated. But it seems that you will die in misery, there will be people who will come and take you out of the abyss.

[ Introduce ]

[ Chapter 3 ]

It is said that today is the day the Emperor and Crown Prince return from a relatively long trip, which is why everyone in the palace is busy. That's what you heard. Well, you also want to do something to help them, you don't want to be free while everyone else is so busy with work.

“Your health is still very poor, rest!”

That's what Aisha told you before disappearing. And so now you have to be alone in your room, on your bed. Aisha and the Empress will act extremely worried and try to dissuade you when you try to do something alone without asking for their help or that of a servant. Even though you were grateful, you couldn't help but feel like it was a bit suffocating; you didn't want to bother others over small things or something.

You want yourself to get well quickly, and after walking better, you can quickly go home. Staying in Elmir for too long will bother everyone a lot.

Moreover, being here makes you feel extremely strange. Even though you've been here for a while, everyone is kind and friendly, but you still can't get used to it. Do you think maybe it's because you don't speak the same language, so it's difficult to integrate with them, or not...?

You don't know, you're just not used to this place, this isn't your home, and it's so strange because it doesn't exist in your memories. Despite Princess Aisha's efforts to make you feel comfortable with your new home, you still don't feel any better. You wouldn't say that to her, you didn't want people to be disappointed after all their efforts. In fact, you are very grateful to them.

Gently place your feet on the floor, the coolness of the stone floor makes your toes numb. You tried to stand up with both legs with your strength. When you finally did, your legs shook a little. Maybe Aisha was right, you were still too weak to do anything. Slowly walking to the window, the sunlight falling on you makes you feel warm. Elmir's weather right now is very beautiful: a blue sky, mild sunshine, and sometimes wind.

“… How is the weather at home?” You mumbled as your eyes still stared at the high blue sky.

It's strange, suddenly one day you wake up in a strange place with an empty mind without any memories. You have lost your memory. Up until now, you don't have any information about your family or where you live; you don't even remember where you live anymore. Every time you ask Aisha and Empress Iris about it, they only give vague or evasive answers. You don't even know why you lost your memory and suffered serious injuries because no one is willing to explain it to you. You couldn't help but be puzzled and curious, but they all seemed to be good at hiding things; they immediately and easily distracted you with another topic.

“I want to go home…” You want to go home because you think that place might make you feel more at home than Elmir. Your hand rests on the glass, and your mind begins to imagine the scene when you get home. Suddenly you realize that it seems like yesterday you had a rather strange dream, you don't remember it clearly. Now that dream has become vague, like a passing fog, suddenly disappearing, suddenly appearing, blurred. Blurry and unclear. But maybe you won't care about it anymore.

Returning to the bed, you sat down, causing the soft mattress to sink slightly. You look back at your hands, with the scars that have gradually faded. Well, thanks to everyone's care, even though sometimes you don't know why they are so good to you, it makes you want to do something to thank them.

As you keep thinking about it, you start to feel sleepiness creeping in, and you fall asleep again.

Aisha was looking forward to it; she knew. Of course, that's not strange, she couldn't help but feel happy and excited at the thought of her beloved father and brother about to return.

Standing in front of the palace's grand gate and hearing the sound of horse hooves approaching, she felt her heart beat a little faster. Empress Iris, standing next to her, couldn't help but smile when she saw her daughter's appearance. She herself was feeling lightheaded and happy.

When the group of knights led by the revered Emperor of the Empire officially entered the gate, servants stood on both sides, bowing their heads and bowing respectfully.

“Greetings, Emperor and Crown Prince!”

Aisha's smile immediately brightened when she saw the people she was looking forward to. She immediately waved to them, her cheeks turning pink. When the horse stopped, Crown Prince Isis could not stop himself but quickly got off the horse and ran like he was flying to Aisha, his beloved sister, to hug her.

"Brother!"

“Aisha! I'm back!” Isis hugged his sister tightly as if to make up for the time they had been apart, while also expressing the love and nostalgia he had for her. Isis loves her sister more than anyone; of course everyone knows that. "I missed you so much."

“I miss you too." The princess giggled while in her brother's arms.

“Ahem… Aisha, what about this father?”

The Emperor's voice made Aisha recognize him. She smiled shyly and then went to give him a hug.

“Welcome home, dad.”

Tyrion also happily hugged his daughter back. No less than Isis, the emperor himself missed his daughter and wife very much. His family is everything to him, and he will do anything if it means protecting his family's happiness and safety, even if it means sacrificing himself on the battlefield.

“Everyone must be very tired from such a long journey, let's go rest quickly.”

The palace servants began to get busy again, arranging and packing their luggage, some followed the royal family to help them.

On the way, Aisha and Isis couldn't stop themselves from talking to each other. They had a lot to say to each other after a period of separation, even though they exchanged letters during that time, but that was absolutely not enough! But the moments of being together and talking to each other are much more valuable. Their parents could only smile when they saw their children so excited, after all, they themselves knew that Isis and Aisha were deeply attached to each other.

When they had to temporarily separate, the two of them stopped. The Crown Prince couldn't help but smile regretfully, but his sister wanted him to rest, and in fact, he himself was very tired.

“See you later, Aisha. I really have a lot to tell you.”

“Yes, brother, please rest. I also look forward to talking to you.”

“See you at dinner.”

“Goodbye, brother Isis.”

Aisha waved goodbye to Isis, who turned toward the prince's palace with his servants following. She looked forward to the time they would spend together soon. Besides, the princess also felt extremely relieved; it was fortunate that everyone returned safely after the war. This battle happened suddenly, and the departure of the only heir to the throne, Isis, following Emperor Tyrion, also caused a lot of worry. Most people tried to prevent him from going to the battlefield because if something happened to the Empire's Crown Prince, the entire Empire would fall into chaos. Even so, he was still determined to step out onto the front-line.

She always knew that her brother was talented, very strong and intelligent, but on the battlefield, anything could happen suddenly and no one could predict. She sent letters to her father and brother regularly to make sure they were okay. An entire empire is represented by the Royal Family, after all.

Looking at her brother, who had disappeared, Aisha fell into contemplation as she turned away. Even though her father and brother have returned, it's unlikely their lives will return to their original trajectory any time soon. War and peace both stand between extremely fragile lines. One threat has been eliminated, but there are still countless other threats lurking. Especially a real enemy who is always lurking and stalking them.

And you, the one who will most likely have a big impact on their lives in the future.

Continue to [ Chapter 4 ]

p/s: I'm about to enter a very important exam so I can't release a new chapter soon, I'm really sorry 〒▽〒 I'll be back in three weeks!

[samptlay]

To My Sweetheart Who Carries A Wounded Heart Ch. 11

Series Masterlist, Chapter 1 🤍, Chapter 2 🖤, Chapter 3 🤍, Chapter 4🖤, Chapter 5🤍, Chapter 6🖤, Chapter 7🤍, Blade & Reader's Relationship, Chapter 8🖤, Chapter 9🤍, Chapter 10 🖤

Special Thanks to @msun1c0rn @uhfhfhfhf @klemen-time @delulu-val @skyl8ver @ssecylia @xdrin & ALL of my taglist. I love you all so much 💕

Donuts? The delicious creamy-filled cloud of fluffiness that has you head over heels in love the first time you tried them over 20 years ago? And who would believe that they would show up at your doorstep being carried by your soulmate? Maybe you were exaggerating by calling him that but you two understood each other more than anyone else could. Looking up from the pink box you were staring at for too long, you’re met with crimson eyes pouring into your own, a small smile on the man’s face.

“Do those happen to be for me?” You smile back, opening the door wider to let Ren inside to which he happily accepts the invitation and heads inside before you close the door behind him and take the box from his hands as he removes his slides. “You know I don’t like sugar, so they aren’t for me.” He chuckles while hanging up his keys before you both go to the kitchen.

You set down the box of Sweet Haven on the counter while Ren invites himself to your fridge and grabs a can of root beer, knowing he doesn’t even have to ask since you specifically buy a whole pack for the fridge for him and only him to drink when he comes over. Levi enjoys alcohol and keeps a lot in the house while Ren finds it displeasing, and with how much he comes over, you didn’t want your friend to have anything to sip on during his (often, though not too many since you’re married and it would seem inappropriate) visits.

Just the thought of you going out of your way to buy things for the time you two spend together makes him want to latch onto your body and never let go, and Ren’s sure you wouldn’t mind that much. It’s not his fault you decide to do all this but like you always say, it’s the little things that count.

When he turned around and leaned against the fridge while opening the can, he couldn't help but observe your eyes lighting up at the sweets when you opened the box. Ren found it enduring. Since the box was yours, either way, you just stuffed one in your mouth while turning to him.

“Thanks for being here right now, and for bringing these. I needed company and I have no idea where Levi is.” At your husband's name, you could visibly see Ren's expression harden a bit, and it would have made you giggle any other day but you weren't in the mood for humor and he didn't look as sarcastic as usual.

“So he left you alone on this day, without even letting you know?” You swore you could almost see a blood vessel on his body pop, and immediately felt the need to soothe his concerns. “Right now is hard for both of us, I don't blame him so please call down, he’s dealing with this in his way.”

There you go again, always defending him even though he can see the hurt in your eyes. Ren was about to open his mouth to call him out himself and let you know that you deserve better, (Quite literally, he wasn't going to boost himself but inform you of how he should be here.) However, you opened your mouth again before he could.

“Though, I… He asked for some space from me yesterday night and I didn't want that. I want to be anything but alone right now. You know I don't like distance, I hate it. He should know that I would want to stick together as well, so why..? Do you think he's starting to resent me? Do you think he blames all of this on me? He-”

You fall silent once you look up to see Ren in front of you, one thumb wiping away the tears that have formed in your eyes, oblivious to you. His other arm was unoccupied, made its way to your waist, and held you tight against his chest. He was offering you comfort and you couldn't be more grateful.

“...It wasn't your fault. I'm aware of what you might be thinking right now but believe me. Don't beat yourself up over this it's him, his fault-”

It's all Ren can say at the moment, and he so desperately wished he could say more but his mind was blank if it was any other thought concerning you. Yet you didn't defend or deny what he said, proving it to be true in his eyes. He couldn't stand seeing you like this, your tears were so foreign to him and they broke his heart.

You can feel his broad muscles flex as he still keeps one arm around your waist as he reaches across the counter, grabs a tissue, and slowly brings it to your face, as if not to alarm you. It makes you warm inside, the fact that he's always been so gentle with you. Even as he wipes all the tears away you can feel he's doing it gingerly.

However, it wasn't warm enough for you. You still can't stand touching your stomach without almost gagging, you still can't think about the life lost, your very baby lost at your own hands. Ren knows his warmth isn't enough either when he feels and sees you trembling in his arms and the streams down your cheeks seem never-ending so he sighs and places the tissue down and replaces it in his hand, cradling your face back and forth.

It made you smile a little bit and you were about to apologize for embarrassing yourself like this but only a choked sob came out. You drop your head to his shoulder and everything that's been building up since yesterday pours out of your soul. You knew Ren wasn't judging, you knew he would never think of you negatively in any way and he knew you needed him right now.

~

After Ren had carried you to your living room and warmed you up into a blanket, he put on your favorite show and sat beside you. He wasn't reaching out to touch you, though it took everything in him to hold back from doing so every time he heard a sniffle from you.

He wanted to hold you, he really did and Ren knew you wouldn't deny him even if you felt guilty, but the thing is you're still a married woman. So for now he'll settle with being the one to comfort you as you grieve. After an hour, he can hear your soft breath hitting his neck. He recognizes the pattern in your breathing and doesn't even need to look down to know you're asleep. He'll carry you to your bed in a moment and stay in the guest room until you wake up and the two of you could talk again. Ren just has a feeling your husband won’t be showing up any time soon.

~

A/N: I'm backk! School's done and I have a lot of time on my hands so expect more updates, at MAX every two weeks (keyword, MAX) I'm sorry for the wait, thank you all for the encouragement to keep writing, otherwise I believe the hiatus would have lasted longer. I love you all. Also, I want to give a special thanks to a bunch of my taglist for always supporting my work and for the encouragement I got from them. They don't realize how much I adore them.

Taglist:

@uhfhfhfhf @xdrin @msun1c0rn @umi-adxhira @lovingnahida @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @ssecylia @skyl8ver @immahuman @meowmeowraven @01234 @markexplanation @esthelily @dawnofazrael @chickenalfredo4life @eccaza @jun-xiu @klemen-time @delulu-val @everi-eve @cluelesstoeverything @strangersomeone @lapinaenmicoche @alwayslegendarymoon

Borders by @cafekitsune

[kate-inhaler-1975]

I loved your last dad!Matty blurb so much that I couldn't help but spiral into thinking about Rosie and her relationship with her Uncle's.

Like, I need to know who her favourite is and all the little adventures they have 😭😭

Pls feed us I'm begging!!!

NEW DAD MATTY UNIVERSE BLURB TIME❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

Now, where do I begin….RIGHT! COVID BABY!!!!

Even though Rosie was a Covid baby, Matty and George were in enough distance of each other to be able to sit in the garden or to have him talk through the window (you weren’t okay with ANYONE coming into the house because there’s no way you were risking lil Rosie getting Covid) so Rosie wasn’t shy when it came to George’s presence.

In those moments George was so riddled with pride because he convinced himself he was going to be her number one Uncle….but that was until Rosie was introduced to Ross 😭😭

Rosie and Ross, the two R’s, the best friends, the partners in crime. To Rosie, Ross is her best friend. Even when she grows up and she’s a teen, he’s always the one she runs to when she feels like she can’t tell you or Matty about something.

But now, in present day, they’re the sweetest and silliest little duo.

Rosie wants an ice cream?

He’ll buy her an entire ice cream van.

Rosie wants to have a sleepover?

He gets her favourite snacks and makes sure the spare room is full of Rosie’s favourite things and that she’s 110% comfortable.

And then Ross’ favourite thing to do?

Oh yeah, he LOVES and I mean LOVES telling Matty off if Matty ever has to tell Rosie off (which is very rare).

Ross does be like “Matty, shut up! She’s only little, and she doesn’t fully understand! Come on Ro, let’s get away from this evil man” and lifts her up and takes her to catering at whatever arena they’re at to get a lil treat because Matty made her cry LOL.

You think it’s hilarious but Matty is so unimpressed that Ross is painting him to be an “evil man” and he’s shitting bricks that Rosie will actually turn on him 😭😭.

She spends a lot of time with Adam as well, especially since herself and Baby Hann are so close in age. So there’s a lot of play dates, and now because of their ages they have sleepovers and it’s just so cute seeing them get along so well and it’s the best thing ever that they both can have a built in best friend their own age.

I know you didn’t mention it anon, but oh my god does she love feeling like a part of the girl gang when it comes to you and her aunties!!

She’s known Carly and Charli her whole life, so both you and Matty were a big apprehensive about how she would react to meeting Chloe for the first time, but all she did was stare at her in awe and then whispered to you shyly “she’s so beautiful, mummy” making your heart burst and making Chloe nearly cry when you told her later.

Rosie’s always coming to little brunch and dinner dates with you and the girls (unless it’s a boozy brunch, in that case she’s stuck playing mortal combat with her dad, uncles and Baby Hann) and Charli loves spoiling Rosie by taking her into the heart of London and taking her to little afternoon teas.

Just pure love and pure cuteness all round and the love between Rosie and her Aunties and Uncles are VERY mutual 😭🥰

[amberskyyking]

Great news Tech fam, its Bad Batch Day and I am still on my bullshit with no end in sight, so welcome to another installment of This Isn’t Over Till I Fucking Say So, our man is alive and loved and coming home and canon cannot stop meeee!!!!!!! 😈

Implications Of Being Alive

Chapter 6: Is This The Real Life (Is This Just Fantasy)?

***CW: Talk of decom/death, dehumanization, and past medical trauma***

CX-2 activated… or… or perhaps Tech awoke.

Because Echo was still here, still holding its hand, even. It distinctly remembered asking Echo to stay with him, and Echo had responded Of course, vod. Right now there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, exactly.

He had kept his word.

Omega was here again, too, just like Echo had said she would be. He could barely make out the bright yellow of her jacket and tuft of blonde hair without corrective eye lenses of some sort, but the soft snoring sounds from nearby alerted him to her presence, and when he squinted, he could tell it was her, slouched over in a chair with her mouth hanging open.

Tech must have woken up, which meant it was dreaming again. Not that it particularly minded. That meant it hadn’t been decommissioned yet. Besides, it had never been able to stop the dreams before, but they had usually been pleasant. It was still registering some residual pain, but it suspected that if it woke, that particular issue would become significantly more apparent.

For now, it would accept the glitches. They were allowing it him to see his family one last time, which was more than he deserved.

“Well, look who’s up,” Echo muttered softly. “How are you feeling, Tech?”

Tech considered the question a moment before responding.

“Improved,” he settled on. What lingering pain he was still experiencing paled in comparison to anything he had been subjected to earlier, though he couldn’t say that it was completely gone.

“That’s good to hear,” Echo replied with a warm grin. “You should be in a lot better shape now. Not every medic knows how to work with biomechanics, but I happen to know of a few good ones myself. We got you a few upgrades. Couple of your servos were fried and your prosthetic arm was practically slag after that explosion. Omega got some good hits in on you too, but they weren’t lethal. Thank the maker she was holding back,” He muttered the last part under his breath.

“I would have to agree,” Tech said, glancing back over to her sleeping form in the chair. Omega had shown significant improvement in form and strategy in their fight since he had seen her last. It was obvious that his brothers had continued her training, and with his own degrading body and mechanics, it seemed unlikely now that he could truly match her. “I would rather not be dead.”

Echo grinned a little at that, though something sad flickered behind his eyes as he did. “Yeah… We prefer you not dead too, vod.”

Tech wasn’t sure what to make of Echo’s expression, but he nodded, moving an arm to prop himself up a bit better but quickly became aware of something strange. The arm felt different. Despite Echo’s claims of his arm being practically slag, it was fully functional, but not at all familiar.

“Ah… We had to completely replaced that,” Echo said softly, noticing his apparent confusion. “Even if the old one wasn’t destroyed, it was pretty outdated. Then again, I’m one to talk.” He spun his scomp a couple times, making a small whirring sound with it, and chuckled softly. “It’s a good model though, I made sure of it. Comfortable interfacing. Customizable, too. I… Figure you’ll want to make some adjustments of your own, once we have you out of here.”

“That would be ideal,” Tech replied, lifting the new prosthetic close to his eyes to examine it. There were modifications he had made to his old one that would likely be missed, however, many of those had been due to necessity in order to prolong function. If this arm worked as intended already, duplicating what extra features he was missing wouldn’t take much effort. Perhaps there would even be room to install some experimental ones.

A sharp inhale from the corner chair pulled his attention from the arm and he twisted eagerly in the bed to face Omega.

“Mmm awake,” Omega yawned, blinking rapidly as she jerked upright in the chair. “Wha’d I miss, I… Tech!”

Tech gave her a small smile and a nod. “Hello, Omega.”

“How are you now?” She asked in a voice full of concern, practically tripping over herself to cross the room to his bedside. “Are you still hurting or is it better?”

“My pain levels have decreased significantly.”

“How’s the arm?”

“It will suffice. It merely needs some modifications to achieve maximum functionality. Nothing I cannot handle.”

“How’s your head?”

“I-”

“Slow down there, Omega,” Echo said soothingly. “Let’s not overwhelm him just yet.”

Omega nodded curtly and met Tech’s eyes. “Sorry.”

“No apology is needed,” Tech said wryly. “It is natural to be curious…”

But he trailed off as he spoke the words. Even for a dream, that was certainly not an approved sentiment. Then again, neither was cohorting with rebel insurgents, or wishing to postpone its own decommissioning. Tech’s brow furrowed in thought.

“I’m glad you still feel that way,” Echo said with just a hint of suspicion. “I… We… Do need to ask you a few, uh… Sensitive questions. We can take it slow, as long as you answer honestly.”

Tech hesitated a moment, but nodded.

“Alright,” Echo said uncomfortably. “We’re really glad to have you back, vod, but… You were clearly sent by the Empire to stop us. Probably to kill us. Including Omega,” Echo gestured to the girl with his scomp. “We need to know why.”

“And you can tell us, Tech,” Omega said earnestly. “It’s okay. We won’t judge you, and we aren’t going to let them hurt you anymore.”

Tech nodded cooperatively. There wasn’t any harm in telling them, considering none of this was even real, though he knew better to believe Omega’s promise that somehow these figments of his imagination could save him. “My orders were to locate and eliminate the rebels completing a munitions transfer on Terova led by Hera Syndulla or be terminated in the attempt,” He recited. “I… Failed. On both counts, apparently.”

“Good,” Echo said, his eyes flashing before he visibly attempted to calm himself.

Shock flickered on Omega’s face. “Yeah… They should never have asked that of you Tech, that’s… That’s wrong. But we weren’t even transferring munitions,” She said crossly. “It was relief aid. Just rations, and most of it was for refugees…”

“That… is not what my intel reported,” Tech mused.

“Well. That’s not surprising,” Echo said. “So they ordered you to kill a bunch of relief workers or die trying?”

“That is what I said,” Tech stated. Although, he had to admit, at least to himself, that when Echo put it that way, it did sound… Disturbing. Calling it as such may be considered treason, but at the least, the mission had been an ineffective use of available resources. Not that it was CX-2’s place to decide that or have an opinion on the matter. Colonel Bragg had to have her reasons.

“Then what is stopping you from trying to finish the job now?” Echo asked darkly.

Tech blinked up at him a couple of times, then at Omega, who seemed to be holding her breath. He shook head. There was nothing for them to worry about, not here.

“The mission is a failure,” Tech repeated himself. “I will be decommissioned shortly.”

“You won’t,” Echo said firmly, but Tech shook his head.

“It is, sadly, standard procedure. My tracker cannot be removed. When they locate my body, if it is still… Functioning,” He chose the word carefully, it was important to be accurate when articulating these sorts of things to avoid unnecessary confusion, “I will be-”

“They won’t find you,” Echo snarled, his face contorting into something dark and vicious, giving Tech pause. “Hemlock may have designed it so removing that thing would kill you, but I made damn sure that the Empire can’t use it to find you anymore. You’re safe, Tech.” He let out a short breathy sigh and ran a hand over his bald head. When he spoke next his voice sounded softer and a little bit choked. “I told you, we’re not letting them take you back. Ever. And I’m sorry we ever let them get to you in the first place…”

Omega put a gentle hand on Echo’s back as he took a moment, covering his eyes with his hand. “Is… Is that all?” She asked hopefully. “The orders are gone so you’re just… you… again?”

Tech looked between the pair of them in confusion and concern. “I… Do not believe it is that simple… Or particularly relevant, here.”

“He’s not the only one they’ve turned against us, ‘Mega,” Echo muttered. “He’s right… It’s never that simple.”

“We’ll figure it out together then,” Omega said firmly. “You’re not alone anymore, Tech.”

That… would be nice.

But it wasn’t really true, was it?

“Tech?” Omega said his name again quietly.

Tech raised his eyes to meet hers. They were golden and sparkling and lifelike, just like in his malfunctions memories, but… That’s all this was. It was all just memories, fragments of his past manifesting themselves with whatever synapses were still firing in its brain and sending it these strange signals, creating the comfortable medical room and the advanced new prosthetic arm and dulling its pain. Omega and Echo acted so much like themselves because that’s how it knew them, that’s how he recognized them, but it wasn’t them.

They weren’t here. He was still alone. And he it shouldn’t care about such things anyways, it wasn’t allowed to, it wasn’t really alive and it would be dead soon anyways so what did any of this matter?!

The realization shouldn’t make a lump form in its throat or the heart monitor go off either. It squinted its eyes shut and shrank back into the bed as the noise pulsed maddeningly overhead, willing it all to just go away.

“Easy there Tech,” It heard Echo’s voice from overhead, and the same as last time it felt a hand slip into its own as if to draw it back, but a sharp jolt cut through his insides as he did. Whatever they were looking for in him, their effort was wasted. There was nothing of him for them to fight for. Everything it used to be back when it had a family and a purpose had been scooped out and shredded, there was just a hole in its psyche where the malfunctions that remained could reverberate off empty walls, taunting it, like they were now. Its actions proved as much. If that family even still lived after years of opposing the Empire, if they ever saw what their brother had truly become, they would want nothing to do with it. Those people had been good and kind. They had fought for each other, taken difficult stances against impossible odds, been loyal to one another, held up situations to a set of morals rather than simply to orders and taken action to protect the innocent and vulnerable from exploiters throughout the galaxy, even when they themselves had struggled to survive.

And CX-2… CX-2 hadn’t been that way for ten years.

It had been helping to build the very Empire that imprisoned and tested on the Clone Troopers who won it the war. It had hunted down insurgents of all kinds without question, using its ruthless efficiency, tactical cunning and fighting prowess to kill countless people. Whether or not they were innocent never mattered. It knew several had been civilians and that never made a difference. If Omega was to be believed, even its latest mission had resulted in destruction and possibly even death solely to stop people from delivering food and medical supplies to compromised populations. Such a thing couldn’t even be justified as a threat to the Empire, if it was true, and CX-2 hadn’t bothered to determine whether or not it was.

It killed all those clones on Teth.

It cut off Crosshair’s hand and taunted him as it did.

It even tried on its final mission to execute Omega!

“Talk to us, Tech,” Omega’s voice spoke soothingly overhead, making its stomach twist into knots. “Can you tell us what you need? We just need to know, we can help.”

“You can’t,” CX-2 choked out bitterly.

“We can, and we will. Whatever you need, we love you-”

“You’re not real!”

The words left its mouth and the tension in its chest crumbled like wet flimsi. It hurt to acknowledge as much, but pretending this was anything other than what it was would only hurt worse when reality came crashing back.

“You’re not real… None of this is real,” It repeated. “You can’t help me or save me so stop - Stop saying that you can…”

Whichever one of them was holding its hand tightened their grip and it opened its eyes. Both of them wore matching expressions of horror and shock, but… But of course they did… The people in its memories would be upset to hear it talk like that…

Echo nodded demurely, and Omega’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she gulped hard and steeled her expression first. “So… what do you think is happening?” She asked, her voice wavering just a touch.

“All of this… It only exists in my mind. It’s a… A malfunction…”

“Uh huh,” She said, looking him fiercely in the eyes, though her voice somehow grew calmer. “So like a… A vision? A fantasy? dream?”

“It… It is more likely a dream…” It replied, wondering where this was going. A dream did sound more probable, given the circumstances. Its body ought to be unconscious back on Terova, whatever state it was in. Echo was giving Omega a miserable, quizzical look, but she didn’t break CX-2 Tech’s gaze.

“Okay. If it’s a dream, then… What happens when you wake up?”

Tech’s eyes went wide with fear. “I-”

“I don’t mean where are you going to wake up,” Omega said steadily. “Or what will happen to you. You don’t know if the Empire has found you yet. I mean what will you do? What choices will you make if you have the chance to make them?”

Tech opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. He… Wasn’t sure. It really depended on his circumstance, didn’t it? The question would be entirely useless if he woke up in the Empire’s clutches again, or if they decommissioned him before he woke up at all. He hadn’t considered the possibility that the Empire would delay looking for him, though, that he might have to choose how to proceed.

“I… Would return to Colonel Bragg,” It said slowly.

“Is that what you want to do?” Omega asked gently.

“No,” Tech responded without hesitation. “I want to stay here.”

His answer surprised him a bit, but then again, it was true. That was what he wanted, even if he wasn’t supposed to, even if it was impossible. Echo seemed slightly surprised as well, jerking his head up with wet cheeks and a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Omega gave him a small grin, but she alone seemed unfazed by the admission, and when she spoke her voice was still strong. “Do you want to see your brothers again, too?”

“I-” Tech started, but his voice caught in his throat as several questions tore through his mind like razors. He did, of course he did, that should be obvious, but - but were they still alive? Were they safe? Would his tracker attract the Empire to them if they were or had Echo really disabled it? After ten years would there even be room for an unexpected guest in their domicile, nonetheless after he blew up the ship that served as their last one? And did… Did they even want him back, after everything he had done?

“Tech,” Echo said, giving his hand another trembling squeeze. “They want to see you… They’ve missed you so badly. You… You have no idea.”

Tech took several breaths, parsing out everything he knew and turning those words over in his mind as if to analyze them. No matter which way he looked at them, though, it didn’t change his answer to Omega’s question. The heart monitor beeped a couple of times just before he opened his mouth to give his answer.

“I do want to see them,” He conceded, his eyes flickering between Omega and Echo in anticipation. “If that is true. That they… Want me back.”

There was something fragile in his voice when he said it, but Echo nodded warmly at him and lifted Tech’s hand in his own, touching both their knuckles to his cheek with a small sniffle. Omega’s face broke into a blinding smile, even as she finally blinked the tears from her eyes and hastily wiped them away with the edge of her sleeve.

“They do. I promise,” She said brightly. “I think the medics want to run just a couple more tests on you to make sure you’re healing well enough to travel, but as soon as that’s done, I can bring you home.”

---

Tech hadn’t been sure what to make of their conversation from before. Even as the medics returned to test his mobility, check his vitals, and attend to his surgical sites, the idea of going home seemed strangely surreal. If this were a dream it would make more sense to simply skip to that part rather than be subjected to these tests. For one awful moment, he had realized the possibility of his body being tested on in real life, all the cold pricks and sharp prods a mental manifestation of whatever final experiment Colonel Bragg was subjecting him to prior to his decommissioning. If that were the case he might not make it to his brothers again after all, he may run out of time, the world could go black and he may never see their faces!

The heart monitor went off again and Echo talked him through those particular fears, shooting impatient glares at the medics as Tech did his best to focus on Echo rather than his thoughts or all the unpleasant sensations, and suddenly it was over. Tech was vaguely aware of someone declaring him fit to be released, but Omega let out a cheer and helped him down from the bed, and then they were walking, Echo on one side and Omega on the other. The pair of them led him through ship halls that were far from imperial, passing people who Tech could too easily imagine having on the other end of his blaster. They reached the hangar and boarded a ship Tech knew he had just shot down, one that bore an uncanny resemblance to the Marauder in places, and yet it wasn’t. It couldn’t be… He had destroyed that ship ages ago, after dedicating so much of his own time and care into its maintenance and customization…

“Welcome back to the Havoc Zillo!” Omega said enthusiastically, gesturing around the inside of the ship with pride. “She’s fully functional again so don’t worry about a thing. The trip is a shorter one. Hope you still like varos flavored rations.”

Tech nodded, looking around the ship in a bit of a daze. A droid waddled towards him with frantic, familiar sounding gonk gonk’s.

“I know, Gonky!” Omega grinned. “He’s starting to do better, I’m excited too.”

The GNK droid stopped just short of colliding with Tech and leaned itself forward towards his hand. Tech obliged with a small, warm smile of his own, resting the mechanical arm on it’s oversized top, and it let out a series of soft gngngngngngnk’s.

“Aww. He remembers you,” Echo crooned.

“Droids memory banks are not like sentients. Their data recall is significantly-”

“Oh I know, Tech,” Echo chuckled. “It’s still sweet.”

Omega had skipped her way to the cockpit already and the outer door hissed shut behind them. For a moment Tech grasped at the nearest console to steady himself as she prepared for takeoff, but he barely felt the lurch as they left the ground and the ship left the hangar behind.

She had learned well, after all.

For a second, Tech gazed at the blur that was the back of her head down the hall, considering it. This was a dream, it had to be, but… This Omega was older than in his memories, no longer the naive adolescent female who chose to sit with them in the cafeteria and picked a food fight in their defense. Granted, she had grown beyond that well before his time with the Empire, but this was something else entirely. Even if what he was seeing now wasn’t real… He hoped that the young girl he knew back then had gotten the chance to grow into someone like this. His brothers deserved the chance to raise her this way, even if he never got to see it.

Then, his eyes slid just past her, to a place on the console where a blurry object sat, glinting against the black expanse of space in the viewport behind it.

“Those are yours,” Echo said softly at his side. “Do you want to see them?”

Tech wasn’t quite sure what to say, he couldn't even see what the object was with his poor quality eyesight, but the statement made curiosity flare up inside him, and he nodded. Echo got up and crossed over to the cockpit, whispering a couple of things to Omega before taking the little item in his one hand and returning.

Echo held them out, and Tech recognized them at once.

“My goggles,” Tech said in astoundment, taking them gingerly in his hands. He had seen them before in the memories but they really did feel familiar in his hands now, too. Both the lenses were shattered and one was missing several chunks, they wouldn’t function without significant repairs but… But they were his.

Nothing had been his in years. It shouldn’t matter, he knew it in his head, but somehow it did. This should be a dream but the familiarity of something that was his own in his hands just felt so real, and if this was real…

Through the gap in the hall Tech saw as the color outside the cockpit changed from pitch black to fuzzy streaks of blue as Omega put the ship into hyperspace, and his breath caught in his throat.

“You should know,” Echo said under his breath, “Even if you weren’t there… She never flew without you.”

He nodded at Echo’s words, unable to speak, and held the goggles close to his chest, just in case they were real.

Link to the full story written in full fledged domicile angst here: Implications Of Being Alive

Please scream in my comments or something, I live for validation I guess, it’s fine 🫠❤️

Oh and I guess I should do a tag list for this, maybe? If that’s wanted? Lemme know if I should and if you wanna be on it!!!

[1-ufo]

,

[raycatz]

I'm not including a situation where someone might be injured because in that case I'm thinking the bed goes to them by default or they are nominated for it. anyone who wants to be chatty goes to join the living room floor gang.

What are your thoughts and headcanons? Do you have thoughts on how the boys tend to approach assigning beds in inns? Who do the chain choose to sleep near when camping and why? What are their dynamics like when settling down for the night and getting ready for the day?

In "Mirror Vs Open Closet Door: Fight!" by Gintrinsic (here) Four refers to the chain's decision on how to split up between inn rooms as the "Link-per-room ratio" which I find very funny. He, Sky, and Time also talk about their thought process behind why they do or don't want to sleep in a room with some of the others which I find fun and interesting.

So! If you have thoughts and want to share them! *gestures to the post!*

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

went to mexico yesterday to visit my grandpa's tomb for day of the dead. only the second time I've visited him since he died in may. not really used to having a dead™ to visit but now I'm home and I got mexican hot chocolate and I'm cuddled up with a mug and life is good. for now life is good 🥹

[cherry-shipping]

oh also i didnt specify but while that last post is true for all versions of papyrus i was especially thinking about horrortale. because of their past making and sharing food and making sure the people you love are well fed is such a huge huge huge important thing 4 them so it matters even more that i eat regularly

[arthur-r]

okay hi it’s been 24 hours since surgery so i think the anesthesia is officially all gone, hi everybody i don’t have a tumor anymore which is the best thing that’s happened to me in like a month. and i’m not supposed to go out and work or anything for 3 to 5 days which means i’m basically just hanging out

[buckleyseddie]

.

[luveline]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: IT'S YOU AND ME, THAT'S MY WHOLE WORLD

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: one kiss turns into two, and before you know it, an innocent gaming session turns into something more. (streamer!au)

contents: fem!reader. suggestive (kissing/making out). the ending can be interpreted as sex. non-sexual usage/mentions of lollipops bc i have a sweet tooth and i want a lollipop rn. i didn't really spend a lot of time on this one, but i thought i'd post it anyways. whatever, your favorite streamer boyfriend is back! did you miss him? (the answer is yes). -1K words.

"you're not that good, are you?" you ask with a grin, twirling a lollipop in between your fingers. in front of you, satoru's avatar gets shot down by a couple others for what seems like the hundredth time, and right on cue, satoru curses his bad luck. "you know, maybe you'd be better if you were actually focusing on the game."

"it's not my fault," satoru insists petulantly, a childish pout appearing on his face. he sticks out his bottom lip and rests his chin on top of your head. "how am i supposed to be able to focus with you in my lap?"

you stick your lollipop in your mouth and shrug, a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you hum indifferently. "sounds like you're just making excuses..."

"oh?"

satoru pinches your cheek teasingly with the hand not resting on top of his mouse, fingers skating from the side of your face to your lips as he tugs out the lollipop. he ignores your halfhearted protests and pops it into his mouth, smiling cheekily as he does so. in the darkening computer screen in front of you, you can see your boyfriend's smug expression, which smirks back at you. "mmm, this flavor's good. what is it?"

"strawberry, i think," you reply instinctually. satoru shakes his head in response, taking the candy out of his mouth and twirling the stick in between his thumb and index finger before he corrects you.

"actually, i think it's you i'm tasting," he quips, clicking around with his mouse for a second before he opens up the photo app. your reflection gazes back at the two of you in satoru's comfortably large gaming chair.

"no wonder you have no game," you deadpan, looking away from the mirror image of you and satoru and towards the ceiling.

"baby, you're literally sitting in my lap right now."

"yes, and?"

satoru's laugh is clear and blue, like a sunlit sky in the middle of june. it almost feels like he hasn't been able to stop smiling around you ever since "the incident," and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

he sticks the lollipop in between your lips and stops you from verbally bashing him any more than you already have. the sweet, tangy taste is a welcome sensation in your mouth, and satoru can't help but smile endearingly when your reflection looks at him with round eyes. "you're so cute," he mumbles, punctuating each word with a kiss to the top of your head.

a soft giggle slips out of your lips in response. "shut up." even as you say that, you already know his answer. if there was one bet you'd make without a doubt, it'd be that satoru can never seem to shut up whenever you're in his line of sight.

satoru's hands find themselves on your waist, and they turn you around so you're facing him. there's a different (but not unpleasant) look in his eyes as he gazes at you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"what is it?" you ask curiously, noticing the subtle change in his expression. his eyes soften from what looked like a teasing glance to an almost longing stare.

"nothing," he hums, kissing you in between your eyes. "you're just pretty."

satoru's hands thread themselves through your hair, lightly touching the back of your neck as his lips move down to brush against yours. you extract the lollipop from between your lips and tilt your chin up, kissing satoru with a little smile. like always, he tastes like sweetened peppermints, even though you've never seen him eat one before. you'll have to ask about that later, but for now, all you can focus on is the way satoru gently nips at your bottom lip as if he's asking for attention.

you hum softly, opening your eyes and squinting at satoru, who can't help but smile against your lips. "you taste like strawberries," he mumbles, peppering butterfly kisses on the corner of your mouth in between words. "so sweet..."

you exhale faintly, not wanting to pull away from his peppermint-scented lips, and let your eyes flutter closed again. something about the way satoru's hands rest delicately on your waist makes you feel more comfortable than you've been in a while. maybe it's just the hoodie satoru had forced on you earlier when he saw you were shivering, or maybe it's the steady beat of satoru's heart that's almost therapeutic against your chest; whatever the case, you can't remember the last time you've been this at ease.

between his complicated streaming schedule and your busy life, moments like these are rarer than you'd like, but that only makes them all the more special.

five, ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by in silence, with the only sound being the soft murmurs shared between you and satoru. his lips fit over yours like two pieces of a puzzle, and the way you fit in between his arms almost feels too good to be true. but thanks to the slender hand that slips underneath the waistband of your shorts and the gentle tug at the bottom of your shirt, you know only too well that this is real; and hopefully, it always will be.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: You feel something while sitting on your boyfriend's lap, and you have the perfect idea on how to help him.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, virgin!reader, oral sex (m. receiving), spitting, praising, reader gives her first blowjob, not mentioned but implied age gap

10k Event Masterlist

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

The fact that you were inexperienced wasn’t an issue for Toji, in fact, he likes the fact that you didn’t really have many boyfriends. He likes to teach you how to do certain things– But he does hate certain things. He hates the fact that you would tease him without knowing so. 

Just randomly sitting on his lap, and kissing the most random spots makes Toji think the wildest possible thoughts. And he swears that sometimes you wear skimpy clothes just to tease him. But he knows you can be naïve, or maybe you’re just a little demon that loves to make Toji’s life impossible. Regardless, Toji doesn’t rush you to do anything that you don’t want to do.

Toji really does love you, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have stuck in a sexless relationship. Sex isn’t a necessity but it is nice. He’d never make a comment about it to you though since he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or put any unnecessary pressure on you. He wants you to be as comfortable as possible with him. But sometimes that comes at a great cost to him.

You sit on his lap, moving around to make yourself comfortable, and Toji bites down on his lip. You catch a glimpse of him, and he looks… Awkward. His elbow is on the end table that’s next to the couch, his chin resting on his hand while he looks away.

“Are you okay, baby?” You ask him, and Toji hums in response. You shift on his lap and you feel it, making your face grow hot. You take a moment to think of how to react, before wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want to help you.”

“Huh?” Toji raises his brow and asks, a bit taken back by what you just said. You stand up from his lap, grabbing his hand before attempting to pull him up from the couch. He stands up, asking, “What do you want to do?”

“I want to help you with your little problem.” You repeat, trying to lead him to his bedroom, and Toji hesitantly follows. 

“Are you sure… I mean… This isn’t what I had in mind for you.” Toji says, and he almost wants to slap himself for even thinking of turning you down. He’s suddenly become the most moral man on Earth, which he thought was impossible a couple of years ago.

“I’m sure.” You answer, forcing your boyfriend to sit down on the edge of his bed. You peck his lips and then his cheeks. Your lips go up to his ear, “It’s about time I give you a blowjob.”

“Just a blowjob, right?” Toji asks as you begin to pull down his sweatpants. It’s no surprise to you when you find him not wearing any underwear. Your eyes widen at the size of him though, and you’re wondering just how he’ll fit in your mouth.

“Yeah… Just a blowjob.” You answer as you get on your knees, your hand wrapping at the base of his cock. Toji watches you as you bite down your lip, unsure of how you want to start off. You've surely watched some videos, just to do this for him but your mind goes blank when you're in the moment.

“Spit on it, baby.” Toji tells you, making you roll your eyes as you bring your lips together. You do as he says, before your hand begins to stroke his cock. Your tongue licks the tip of his cock before it begins to circle around it. Toji really thought he would have to guide you through it, but it seems like you know what to do. At least for now.

Your mouth wraps around his cock, hollowing your cheeks before you begin to bob your head up and down on his cock. You take in as much as you can take, which isn’t a lot– It disappoints you, but Toji is over the moon. At least that’s what it seems when your eyes look up to find his head thrown back. Toji isn’t the type to really make any noise but he wants to know that you’re making him feel so good, “Your mouth feels so fucking good–”

Your jaw begins to get tired, so you lift your head, your tongue focusing on circling on the tip of his cock again. Toji looks down at you, and he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. He’s pictured this same exact scene so many different times, and he thought he’d never see the day.

“Your cock’s so big, baby.” You tell him, stroking his length. He grabs your head, and you slightly stand up for a moment to make it easier for him to kiss you. His tongue presses against yours, and when he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your lips, “I want to hear you moan for me, Toji.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Toji says, as you settle on your knees again. Your tongue licks from the base of his cock to the tip of his cock. Your mouth wraps around him again, while your hand begins to play with his balls. Your other hand strokes the part of his cock that your mouth isn’t wrapped around. 

“Ngh– Fucking love your mouth.” Toji begins to moan your name, doing just as you want him to. He wants to keep you happy so this happens again. He’s thinking of you in a different position though… It’s too selfish to voice. He doesn’t want to rush you in any way but he’s only imagining how nice and tight your pussy feels. “You’re doing such a good job. Shit.”

Toji gets louder by the second, biting down his lip to suppress his moans, his breathing slowly getting heavier. His hand grips the bed until his cock twitches in your mouth, his salty cum hitting the back of your throat. Most of it drips down your mouth and goes down to your chin.

You lift your head, and Toji’s thumb runs up your chin, gathering his cum before he swipes it on your bottom lip. He praises you, “You did such a good job, baby…”

He bends down to kiss your lips, getting some of his own cum on his mouth. It’s not the first time it happens. He smirks down at you before he tells you, “But you’re gonna have to learn to swallow.”