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favefandomimagines · 2 months ago

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loml (r.c)

SEASON 4 PART 2 SPOILERS!!!!

Request: @motherlanaenthusiast “So what if we do a Rafe x Maybank!reader where like maybe she was in morocco but she wasn’t with JJ when he died cuz she was doing smthn else so like they all have to break the news and that happens and then when like after when they’re back at Kildare Rafe like gets deja vu from s1&2 him because he sees reader going kinda crazy”

Summary: Rafe is the only person to save Y/N from a downward spiral.

AN: I will NEVER forgive the writers for this lol I went on a tangent with this one

The sun was blistering and casting a golden hue over the winding alleyways in Morocco. Rafe Cameron and Y/N Maybank moved through the maze of alleyways, their steps quick and purposeful, yet filled with a tension that spoke of something much deeper than their immediate surroundings.

Y/N was JJ Maybank’s twin sister, a spitfire with a wild heart who had once been the center of Rafe’s secret world. The two had shared a tumultuous fling, a secret affair that had started four years ago under the cover of darkness and ended just as abruptly. It was a relationship neither had ever fully acknowledged. Rafe was a Kook, while Y/N, like her brother JJ, was a Pogue, tale as old as time.

The shop was quiet, the group off to Charleston to follow the next clue. Y/N stayed behind to wait for her brother after he had wandered off “running errands.” The bell above the door jingled, and the soft sound broke through the silence.

Y/N was leaning against the counter, staring at her phone screen, scrolling through all the unread text messages to her brother.

"How can I help you?" she asked absently, not looking up from her phone.

She looked up and her breath got caught in her throat, the smile on Rafe Cameron's face grating against the air. He stood at the entrance, hands tucked casually in his pockets, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her tone even, though the familiar tension in her chest began to build. She’d never been able to shake the feeling of unease around him. Not since everything went down with Pope, the fight that ended whatever it was they had.

"Can't I just stop by and visit my local surf and bait shop?" Rafe said, taking a step inside, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You looking for Sarah?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Actually, yeah. I'm looking for Sarah."

She shook her head, setting the phone down with a soft click. "She doesn’t want to talk to you."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, the smirk still in place. "I think I can have a chat with my sister whenever I want."

"Not if she doesn't want to talk to you." Her words were firm, but there was a slight quiver in her voice that betrayed her more complicated feelings.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter as he took a few more steps forward, closing the distance between them. He placed his elbows on the counter, leaning in closer, the sudden proximity catching her off guard.

"I'm sorry about the drama at the beach the other day," he said, his voice lowering in an almost sincere tone. "With Ruthie and the turtles."

She didn’t respond right away, trying to keep her emotions in check. She could feel the weight of his words, but it didn’t change anything. Rafe was sorry—sorry for the mess he had created, maybe, but never for the things that had truly mattered.

"Don’t act like you care, Rafe," she replied, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach. "You only care about how things affect you. And I guess now Sofia."

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze growing intense. The years of tension between them seemed to hang in the air, unresolved and unspoken. Then he said, his tone soft but firm, "We used to be so close, Y/N. What happened?"

She sucked in a breath, trying to push down the anger, the hurt, the past. "The drugs happened," she said slowly, her voice low. "Ward happened. Your anger happened."

His eyes darkened for a second, his jaw tightening. He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it just as quickly. After a long, weighted silence, he took a half step back, his expression softening, just a little.

"I’m on your side, you know," he said quietly, the words almost a whisper, as though they were too important to rush. "I always have been."

The words hung between them, charged and heavy with meaning. She didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t known what to say to Rafe since the day he’d walked away, leaving everything torn apart in his wake.

Before she could respond, Rafe straightened, brushing his hand across his forehead as if clearing his thoughts. He turned toward the door, his back to her now. "I’ll be seeing you around," he muttered over his shoulder, the door swinging open as he left without another word.

Now, as they weaved through the ancient Moroccan city, they were older, scarred by the years of treasure hunts, betrayals, and broken friendships.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Y/N said, stopping suddenly, her dark eyes scanning the shadowed alleyways. She had always been the one with the sixth sense, the one who could feel trouble like a storm on the horizon.

Rafe turned to her, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

But before she could answer, they heard Kiara’s voice, shrill and desperate, cutting through the noise of the bustling market.

“Y/N! John B! Pope!”

Y/N’s heart seized in her chest, and without another word, she took off in the direction of Kiara's cries, Rafe hot on her heels. They rounded a corner and found Kiara kneeling on the cobblestones, her face pale and streaked with tears. And lying there, motionless, was JJ.

“No, no, no,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking as she fell to her knees beside her brother. Her hands trembled as she reached out to touch JJ’s face, his skin already growing cold under her fingertips.

“JJ, please,” she begged, her voice cracking, tears streaming down her face. “You can’t leave me. You promised.” She cried.

But there was no response, no flicker of life in those familiar blue eyes. It felt like the world had been ripped out from under her, like the ground had opened up to swallow her whole. Rafe stood behind her, his face pale, his fists clenched at his sides.

The group stood stunned, no one wanting to be the one to move. But they were in a busy, bustling city with a dead body. People would ask questions. “W-We have to get him out of here.” John B stammered. He moved to reach for Y/N, attempting to pry her off of her brother’s body.

Y/N fought against him, muttering things like ‘I’m not leaving him’ or ‘he can’t be alone.’ Rafe takes over for John B and has to use his strength to pull her up to her feet. He held her in his arms, close to his chest to avoid having to see her two best friends moving her brother.

At that moment, all he could really do was hold her.

Months had passed since that horrible day in Morocco, but for Y/N, time had ceased to exist. She was back in Kildare, but it was as if she was still stuck in that dark alleyway, kneeling beside her brother’s lifeless body.

Sarah Cameron was heavily pregnant, as she prepared for the birth of her first child with John B. It was supposed to be a time of joy and new beginnings, but the shadow of JJ’s death loomed over them all.

Y/N had fallen into a downward spiral, her grief consuming her. She drank herself into oblivion every night, stumbling through the streets of Kildare like a ghost. She would disappear for days, only to be found passed out on the beach or in the hammock outside her house. The Pogues tried to help her, but she pushed them all away, lost in her own pain.

Sarah had told Rafe about Y/N, how she was drowning in guilt for not being there when JJ had died. The words had hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, reminding him of his own spiral years ago, before his father had dragged him into the hunt for the Royal Merchant’s gold.

He couldn’t let that happen to Y/N. He wouldn’t. He loved her even if he couldn’t admit it.

So he found himself standing on the porch of the Maybank house, staring at the peeling paint on the front door. John B’s van was parked out front, and Rafe assumed he was there trying to talk some sense into Y/N.

A part of him thought ‘oh John B is here, I can come back later.’ But he couldn’t walk away, not this time.He’s walked away from her too many times.

He knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness of the early afternoon. John B opened the door, his face drawn and tired. “Sarah’s not here.” He told Rafe. “I’m not here for Sarah. I’m here for Y/N.” Rafe answered.

“She’s not doing well, man,” John B said, his voice low. “We don’t know what else to do. I think... I think she feels guilty for not being with JJ when it happened.”

Rafe nodded, his jaw tightening. “Let me talk to her.”

John B hesitated but finally stepped aside, letting Rafe through. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos that had always surrounded JJ.

Rafe walked down the hall to Y/N’s bedroom, the same room he used to sneak into all those years ago. All of the memories came flooding back as he stopped in front of the door. Nights that ended tangled up in her sheets. Other nights where she just wanted to be held after a fight with her dad.

Rafe pushed the door open to find her cocooned under the comforter, a bottle of vodka sitting on her nightstand.

“JB, please go away,” she mumbled, her voice raw and hoarse. Rafe assumed from a mixture of alcohol and crying.

“Not John B,” Rafe said softly.

Y/N stiffened, slowly emerging from under the covers, moving to sit up against her headboard. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face pale and gaunt. She looked like a shadow of the girl he once knew.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I’m worried about you,” Rafe said, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress.

“Apparently everyone is,” she muttered, her eyes flicking away from him.

There was a heavy silence, the kind that was filled with all the things they had left unsaid for so many years. Rafe took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

“Y/N... I know what it’s like to lose yourself,” he began, his voice steady. “I know what it’s like to drown. I was there once, you know that. Hell, I’m still trying to crawl my way out.”

She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. “He was always afraid to be alone, and I left him alone,” she choked out. “I should have been there. I should have protected him.”

Rafe’s heart broke at the raw pain in her voice. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Y/N. JJ wouldn’t want that.”

“How would you know?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You never cared about him. About me.”

The words were like a slap in the face, but Rafe took it, knowing she was lashing out from a place of deep hurt. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I didn’t care about JJ, and I pushed everyone away. But I always cared about you. And I don’t want to lose you to this, Y/N. I can’t.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Rafe.” Y/N muttered. “No but you’re the person I love.” Rafe replied. “You can’t say things like that.” She practically snapped. “Why not? You used to beg me to tell you how I felt and I finally am. I’m sorry it came so late and it’s happening because of this but I’ll be damned if another person I love gets hurt because I didn’t do anything to stop it.” Rafe told her.

She stared at him, the anger draining from her eyes, leaving only exhaustion. “I don’t know how to come back from this,” she whispered.

“Let me help you,” Rafe said, his voice breaking. “Please. Let me be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

There was a long pause, and then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. It was a small gesture, but it was enough.

“I’ll try,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ll try to get better.”

“And I’ll be here,” Rafe promised, reaching out to take her hand. “Through it all. I’m not going anywhere.”

A year had passed since that day in Morocco. The sun was shining over the Outer Banks, the salty breeze carrying the sound of laughter and the distant crash of waves. The Pogues had gathered for a special occasion, a day of celebration and new beginnings.

Sarah and John B’s son, Jackson, was turning one today, and they were throwing a beach party in his honor. Y/N stood on the edge of the gathering, watching as Sarah bounced her son on her hip, his tiny hands reaching for the birthday cake.

Y/N was sober, clear-eyed, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe again. She had fought her way out of the darkness with Rafe by her side, and though the pain of losing her brother would never fully fade, she was learning to live with it.

Rafe approached her, a soft smile on his lips. “You doing okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, turning to look at him. “Yeah, I think I am.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered. “For everything.”

She leaned into him, letting the warmth of his embrace chase away the lingering shadows. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For not giving up on me.”

Rafe smiled down at her before she moved up on her toes and kissed him sweetly. “I love you, Rafe.” She spoke quietly. “I love you too.” He replied.

They stood there together, watching as their friends celebrated a new chapter of their lives, a chapter filled with hope and healing.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N believed that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

#imagine #imagines #outer banks #jj maybank #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #kiara carrera #john b routledge #rudy pankow #sarah cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks

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krystella-shifts · 13 days ago

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Ignoring symptoms/outer world and detaching while entering the void state

So I got this question & post idea in my DM and it's a great suggestion cuz I personally used to struggle with that and seen others struggle w/ it too.

So y'all are focusing too much on the 3d AND the thought that you are focusing on the 3d and that you shouldn't focus on the 3d. How to detach from it?

1. First of all stop focusing so much on the thought/belief that you ARE focusing on the 3d and to enter the void you HAVE to NOT feel it AT ALL cuz if you while inducing think like "ok I feel this symptoms but I'm also hearing this and why do I still feel my pillow" LIKE DON'T. Just relaxxxx we're not telling you'll to relax for nothing! Cuz I realised form my experience that if I stress that my family is being loud or if I'm feeling symptoms and that i shouldn't move AT ALL (as if I'm in some statue statue game olympics 🗿🥴) it brings my focus back on the physical world. But when I am relaxed i just don't give a fuck. Think about the time you were SO tired after a long day of being outside and you just wanted to go home and sleep, when you finally got to go in bed did you have any care in the world what's going on in the 3d? Ask yourself

2. You have two rooms if you don't wanna be in room A you just go in room B. Be in 4d to not be in 3d. Like as simple as that. Think, affirm, daydream whatever the fuck you do like literally have a party in your mind i don't care as long as you're not aware of the 3d anymore! You know what works best for you. You do not have to follow a damn method EXACTLY step-by-step. Make it your own. For me I can't only affirm and be only in the 4d cuz it's daily life for me to affirm so what I do is affirm while imagining or just imagine. And many time when I wasn't even trying to induce but was just imagining scenarios to sleep i wasn't aware of the outside world at all. Sometimes while thinking myself to sleep i felt whatever I was seeing behind my eyelids literally form and become more vivid as if I was actually in front of it (it was fun ngl 🤡) so yeah basically do what works for you. I can't tell you what works for you, no one can. Only you. (I wEnT cRaZy OvEr YoU)

3. For some people it can be fear. Fear of suddenly having everything they want (unlike what the damn bitch society have told everyone) so just accepting if you have this fear and telling yourself it doesn't have to be hard, painful the way society told us, everything is meant to be easy and just flow for us. Or your body/mind might be scared of "leaving" your body here or find it unusual but regardless telling yourself and body "you're safe, I am safe" is a great way. Writing down your fear and tearing it can also help.

Understand actually having it/ being in the wish fulfilled state

So you said you're in the void in the 4d but asking for help, even tho I obviously don't mind helping at all, you wouldn't be asking for help if you were actually in the wish fulfilled. F the terms you ARE actually in the void. I'm not just saying it as an aff or whatever. You actually are in the void 25/8. The void is within you. The void IS you. It is YOUR God state. Wdym you have it in the 4d and not in 3d??YOU JUST HAVE IT. You don't TRY to get into an awake or asleep state you just are in it when you are. Void is just like a mix of both being aware but asleep. You're not entering some completely different realm you are going within. When you force yourself to sleep you're just becoming more and more awake. But when you just let it happen it not only happens, it's effortless. Why treat Void state any different? It's not some magical thing getting you your desires YOU ARE. you can manifest anything in awake state too and you are the one manifesting in the void so don't put it on a pedestal please.

Nothing is holding you back from inducing the void state. If you believe nothing is, nothing is. Nothing can. Nope not even the 3d, not even the doubts. The law is always working. Stand in your power.

- Krystella

Wow this is something I needed to hear myself in my journey (i'mma pat myself on the back) thank you for the person who suggested this idea and let me attach the ss :D I'm grateful to be able to help! Feel free to ask. Thank you for reading !

Happy living our dream life 🥂💋🩷

✿˖˚ ༘𐙚

#void state #god state #reality shifting #shiftblr #loassumption #loablr #shifting blog #kpop shifting #void concept #voidstate #i am state #manifest #manifestation #manifest your dreams #law of assumption #desired reality #krystella shifts #i am living my best life

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ikmenios · 2 years ago

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ALSOOOOO I'm designing a new pedal line with total creative freedom and I'm so excited I might throw up. I'm going to do cool art for it and maybe make them some unconventional shape but I don't even know what effects I want to do yet

#nothing crazy complex cuz the new line that I'm starting assembly for this week is like definitely already a lot and I want to swerve a #whole different direction. keep it interestinf #I have a mockup of a circular like hockey puck shaped thing that we might just do as a simple distortion pedal to see how the response is to #the shape but so far people are not into it. but whatever they can get over themselves its cool as hell

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glossgojo · 3 months ago

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father charlie mayhew x undercover detective fem! reader/that one fleabag scene

5k words (i went crazy with this one)

oh boy where do i begin

TAGS: siren reader!, AFAB reader, religious themes, nonreligious reader, confession booth is sexy, oraI male receiving, big d!ck charlie, dubious consent, p in v, no protection, breeding cuz duh it’s me, blood k!nk (if u squint)

after lois was nearly detained for being belligerently drunk at work, the FBI called you in. not to work alongside her no, to survey and investigate the community. the crimes surrounded her. you became lois’s daughter’s “friend” living with her and hanging around whenever you could. fortunately for both of you, lois did actually like your company and so did her daughter.

with some miracle you became a part of her everyday life, even tagging along when she met sister megan once. the nun was peculiar and although you weren’t nearly as trusting as lois you liked her enough to fake your way into an unlikely friendship. you the hard on her luck “college student” and her the eccentric murder-obsessed nun. it worked well enough for a cover story and she seemed to buy it. given your experience you knew enough about murderers to get along with her, pretending to share her passion for serial killers and the like. she had mentioned visiting the diner over text one day, you thought it a great opportunity to get out and people watch but what you didn’t expect was that she had company.

you knew megan was unconventional to say the least but you didn’t expect her to be on a date with, the looks of it, a lady killer. the closer you got the more you had to mask your reaction, she was with the new priest. you just didn’t expect him to be near your age and straight out of a GQ magazine. you willed a smile to your lips as you sauntered to the side of her booth, throwing an around the back of her seat and leaning down. megan tore her eyes away from the priest, meeting yours after what felt like minutes. you didn’t blame her, you were having a hard time ignoring him as well. “megan! hey i hope i'm not interrupting.” you finally looked pointedly towards him, your smile withering as you met his chocolate eyes. you hadn’t seen eyes so dark in a while.

“did something happen?” she assumed you had an update, it wouldn’t be the first time since you lived so close to lois. you sometimes told her details to gain her trust, of course clearing it with lois first. you pretended you did, pretended whatever you had to say was not for the eyes of a very curious priest. his eyes hadn’t left you since you interrupted.

“no, uh we can talk later.” you motioned slightly towards him and megan realized she’d never made introductions. she broke eye contact turning towards the priest, finding him already looking at you, well more so the small sliver of skin your crop top displayed above your skirt from the way you stretched over her booth. she knew father mayhew was less traditional but she didn’t expect this.

“oh y/n this is father mayhew.” you looked at him waiting a beat before you smiled brighter than before, he was intrigued to say the least. you were confusing him, sending signals he couldn’t quite decipher. maybe he wasn’t your type because you seemed wholly unaffected by him. that or you were just good at hiding it.

“nice to meet you mr.mayhew.” there was no way you were calling him father, you weren’t religious much less catholic.

“father-“ megan started to correct you and you cocked your head to the side, ready to remind her you didn’t believe in organized religion.

“charlie is fine, please y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” he cut in before you two began your conversation, seeing the way your eyes narrowed at the correction. your eyes were back on him as soon as he said your name, masterfully hiding how your stomach flipped at it coming from his lips. it didn’t matter to him that you weren’t religious, hell it might be for the best if you weren’t. he would rather never see you or your red heels ever again.

“charlie, i’ll leave you two to it.” you attributed the startling attraction you felt to the taboo of it all. a priest, sinfully handsome, and from the look of his shoulders and arms his body was even more unholy. your glances had been brief but they were enough to spike your curiosity.

“please join us, i’d be interested to hear whatever you were about to share.” there was that egotistical expression on his face that made you think he didn’t usually get no from women.

“oh i don’t know it’s kind of a secret. can you keep a secret charlie?” you were pulling out all the stops, straightening your posture, batting your eyelids, even cocking your head to the side and if megan wasn’t so transfixed by his reaction she would’ve taken notes. he was completely drawn into you, reminding himself to blink and respond when you a smile twitched at the corner of your lips when you were met with silence. you knew you had him and he knew too.

“let’s pretend this is confession.” he drew his arms out, leaning back against the booth and you took the challenge, sitting next to megan before she could try to leave you two alone. the scent of your perfume hit him as you sat down, sensual and distinct. he’d remember it for days.

“sure confession, i’ve always liked the notion. there’s something so sexy about the whole thing don’t you think megan?” charlie watched you try to shift the subject away from whatever you came to say. he wasn’t so naive. however one thing became clear, you didn’t trust him.

“oh geez, i guess it is sexy. you’re dishing out your deepest darkest secrets in a small box where you can’t see the other person.” he could see the way your eyes softened around the edges when you looked at megan. and the way they changed when you looked back towards him. he hadn’t felt so wholly consumed by someone. whatever trap you had laid out, he was ensnared.

“i’ve always wondered who a priest confesses to?”

“God.” his eyebrow cocked at the question, eyes lighting up in amusement and you bashfully nodded your head.

“ah right.” megan laughed at your response, finding the exchange a bit trivial. she was itching to hear the new information.

“i’m gonna head back to the church, can’t exactly leave it unattended this long. sister it was great to speak with you and again nice to meet you y/n.” you waved him a goodbye as he got up and walked past you both, your eyes never leaving him until you couldn’t crane your neck much further. megan shook off the worries that were beginning to surface and instead pestered you to spill your guts. you did as soon as the diner’s bell rang to signal the door closing. you told her what you had rehearsed all the while being haunted by the ghost of father mayhew’s appearance.

the murders continued and you spent late nights with lois spinning every possible theory. you couldn’t scratch the itch that bothered you about megan and charlie. instead of asking megan to meet you, you decided to visit the father himself. although you would play it off as a last minute plan you carefully dressed for the occasion, a baby pink cropped cardigan covered your lacy tank top fit with high waisted flare jeans that hugged your curves just right. it looked casual and your skin was indeed covered enough for church but if you stretched or raised your arms even slightly your skin would show and you knew his eyes would find their way there just like before. you wore baby pink platform heels to match even, your hair up in a seemingly effortless updo that actually took you thirty minutes to perfect. and to top it all off you made sure to smell downright sinful and gloss your lips to the heavens.

he didn’t stand a chance.

you were grateful to find the church empty save the priest in question sitting in the pews reading what you assumed was the bible. the click of your heels drew his gaze over his shoulder, he would lose this battle without a doubt in his mind. he only hoped god would forgive him after. he rose to stand, abandoning the bible with ease and a smile crept to your lips as he met you in the walkway between the pews.

“y/n, what a surprise i thought you weren’t religious.” he didn’t think he’d see you again, not like this at least. maybe only in his dreams or when the desire deep inside him took over.

“oh i’m not, just curious.” you cocked your head to the side and charlie had a sneaking suspicion you got whatever you wanted when you did that. he wasn’t a stranger to using his looks to get things handed to him, he just didn’t expect to be so easily swayed by it himself.

“anything i can help you with?” as much as he would have liked to continue this staring contest he had an idea you were here on a mission. you had unsuccessfully hidden how taken you were with him. now standing at his full height you were finding it hard to disguise your attraction. he was tall, much taller than you had figured and even in your heels you came up to his shoulder. his body was crafted for sports, for modeling, for anything but the cloth. the sheer strength he wielded was going to waste, you wondered why he needed it all.

“you and sister megan are so wholly devoted to all this. i’ve never had that, something so…guiding.” he invited you to sit next to where he was situated before, you did with ease crossing your legs and sitting closer than you should be.

“your morals surely come from somewhere.”

“my parents, they weren’t religious, at least not catholic. all these murders, it just made me wonder.” you spoke in hushed whispers, the church was eerily quiet, so starkly different from the chaos of lois’s home.

“you’re scared, it’s reasonable to be. faith can give you strength but it can’t fix everything.” his head turned down towards you, onyx eyes sucking you in, you were captivated.

“hey i thought i was the atheist here.” you bumped your shoulder against his or really your shoulder against the muscle of his arms. he sucked in a breath, finding himself thinking less of religion the more he looked into your eyes. charlie drew the bible in front of him, turning the page to where he knew he’d find distraction.

“Isaiah 41:13 God promises to comfort and help those who are worried, and to take their hand and guide them through difficult times.” he turned the page to continue, not licking his finger in time and cutting his finger on the paper. it had never happened before and he didn’t even notice it until you listened on, eyes naturally drawn to his large veiny hands and then the pearl of blood that threatened to drop on the spotless floor.

“oh charlie,” you took his right hand in both of yours, thoroughly stopping his reading. you did the first thing you could think of, not wanting the blood to spill anywhere, bringing it to your lips and licking it off, meeting his gaze bashfully. the familiar taste of salty iron lined your teeth. the wet warm lap of your tongue against the pad of his finger combined with the sheen of your lips and your eye contact made charlie suddenly very aware of his corporeal form, all the rest of his blood rushing south. you did it so casually, as if consuming his blood was as natural as wine. the quiet vulnerability making him twitch in his pants. he thanked god it wasn’t well lit in the church or the bulge in his black slacks would be apparent. fortunately for him you were also too embarrassed to notice.

“s-sorry i just didn’t want it to spill.” you dropped his hand quickly, ignoring the warmth between your legs and opting to look very intently at the first button of his dress shirt. he needed to diffuse the situation before he coaxed you upstairs and smudged your damned lip gloss.

“it’s alright, i’m gonna grab a bandaid.”

“okay i’ll be hiding in the confession box trying not to burst into flames.” he laughed at your admission, he hadn’t expected you to be so embarrassed. it was probably the hottest thing he’d experienced and he thought you would own it, own that you were unabashedly seducing him. perhaps he’d misjudged your intentions all along. he came back to empty pews and he scoffed at the realization you were actually in the booth.

“what do you wish to confess?” he assumed the position, taking it as seriously as he could muster. part of him was wishing you would just tell him something substantial about yourself, he didn’t even know what you did for a living.

“how much time do you have?” charlie huffed a laugh at your words and you liked his laugh, it was airier and lighter than you expected. “i suppose ill start with the most recent sin, i embarrassed myself in front of a priest. surely that’s against some rule.”

“not entirely, embarrassment isn’t a sin.” he crossed his arms across his chest, endeared by your admission.

“right, what about lust?” he closed his eyes, he’d nearly gone half-soft but here you were painting deadly images in his mind. he felt like a teenage boy, rock hard and trying to will it down.

“lust, one of the seven deadly sins, but it can be forgiven. that is if you don’t act on it.”

“ah i’ve never been good at that part.”

“i can pray for you, kneel with me.” you did as he said, finding it hard to deny him of anything when his voice was so deep and commanding through the grated screen. you waited a beat and then another, breathing out in and out. you wondered if he was trying to remember a prayer or you were too far gone for one that readily came to mind. instead you heard him grumble under his breath, the church far too quiet for it to go unnoticed.

“fuck it.” you blinked your eyes in surprise, the wood digging into your knees as you waited another beat and the curtain to your side was drawn open and charlie stood in front of you. the sight of you kneeling nearly made him pass out, he swore he’d never been so hard in his life.

“tell me no.” his large hand, now with a bandage on one finger, slid to the side of your face, tilting your face up and up until your neck craned to meet his as he stepped closer. the heat of his body radiated against you. his thumb pushed at the plush of your bottom lip, the lip gloss was as sticky as he imagined, drawing your mouth open. your eyelashes fluttered at the gentle pressure, the coaxing, the slow sensuality of it all. you felt as if you would actually burst into flames, you wished you had worn a skirt. the denim of your jeans felt like hot coals against your skin, your underwear sticky with need. he could see the desire dripping from your gaze, but he needed to be sure.

“i can’t.” you whispered, like the obedient girl you were. and that was enough for him, he shoved the thumb fully between your lips, you hummed at the intrusion. the warm wet heat of your mouth made him whimper as you swirled around the finger sucking it like you wanted so desperately to do something else. your gaze finally moved from his eyes down the length of his body to his slacks, you raised up on your knees and you were eye level with his bulge. even in the dim light you could tell he was massive and your jaw would be sore tomorrow.

“father let me help you, please?” he huffed a breath at the name, there was no going back now though, he knew what he was doing making you kneel. he nodded at your request, removing his hand from your face so you could do as you pleased. the urgency in your motions made him scoff as you practically tore his zipper down and cupped his bulge. you fidgeted to get his length through and when you did you grinned at the sight. the shadow of his length covered your face and while you were intimidated and failing to hide it you still licked tentatively at the furious red tip.

“good girl.” he smiled down at you and you squeezed your thighs at his words, cleaning up all the precum along his slit. he was so big you didn’t think you’d get him even halfway down your throat, but you were never a quitter. your hand circled his base, one cupping his heavy balls as you licked along his shaft, veins protruding angrily and you kissed the tip one more time before flattening your tongue against the bottom of him, stretching your mouth as wide as you could to accommodate his girth. it was a struggle to attempt and you groaned at how hard it was. he chuckled at your frustration, he couldn’t deny how hot the whole scene was. he placed a hand on your head, guiding you down his length and you moaned at the feeling, shivering from how badly you needed him. you wished for some sense of relief and so you took one hand off his balls and tried to touch yourself. it was no use because charlie saw you, catching your wrist. he was gentle until then, forcing you down his length and you gagged. he was so heavy and thick you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the sensation made you nearly lightheaded and he finally released his grip letting you relax and slink back. you got into a comfortable rhythm then, pumping the length you couldn’t reach and swirling your tongue along his veins while moving up and down his length. he could tell he was close from the small groans and whimpers you could hear, his grip on your wrist tightening until he let go completely and pulled you off him. he tapped his cock against your tongue, debating if he should finish this now or give in fully to what he needed.

“tell me about your sin.” your eyes glazed over as he held his cock away from your mouth, letting you speak but making you mourn the heavy feeling. it took you a few seconds to remember what he was talking about.

“i’ve touched myself thinking about this man, but he’s devoted to someone else, to god. it never feels as good as i know he can make me feel.” your gaze traveling from his cock to his eyes, he jaw clenched as he looked away before leaning down and lifting you effortlessly out of the booth and into his hold. your legs looped around his waist and your arms around his neck. he was strong and solid against you, and you whined at the slightest hint of friction of your core bumping his belt buckle.

“we can attone later.” it’s all he says as he’s walking purposefully up the stairs and down a hallway, the walk is long or at least it feels that way when you’re nearly drunk from desire.

your back hits something soft, you realize it’s his bed as he’s climbing over you. you sit up, unbuttoning his shirt while he’s doing the same to your pesky jeans. his shirt is unbuttoned before he’s pulling them off you and you marvel at the sculpted muscles of his body. you're not sure if you’re drooling but you could be. he doesn’t bother to take your heels off, opting for your cardigan and crop top next. and you whine as you try to reach the buttons of his slacks, he tucked himself back in at some point and you don’t like the insinuation. charlie can’t help but laugh at you, maybe you weren’t the femme fatale he thought you were. “patience is a virtue.” he’s got you in your bra and panties splayed out under him and he relished in the sight of your lip gloss smudged. in the light of his room he could see all the sinful details of your body and he couldn’t wait to wreck every part he hadn’t touched yet. he kneels in front of you, shirt gone and his slacks unbuttoned, watching your chest rise and fall in anticipation as you maintain eye contact. he can tell you’re struggling to, the way your eyelids droop and narrow. when he’s finally bare in front of you, you’re looping your arms around his neck and pulling him down, finally kissing him and it’s as messy as you hoped for. all teeth and tongue, he bites your lip hard enough to draw blood and you groan into his mouth. he’s feral and you can’t help but arch into him, the hard planes of his body pressing so deliciously against you, you silently wish you could grind against his abs for some kind of friction. charlie pins your wrists above you with one of his hands, the other deftly unclasping your bra, an action that speaks volumes of his experience.

he doesn’t loosen his grip on your wrists even slightly, somehow in control despite the rabid look in his eyes, trailing his lips down your neck, biting and sucking likely leaving marks for tomorrow. you buck your hips into him, desperate for something, anything. he’s so hard against your core, sliding against your stomach. you can’t imagine he’ll fit, not with how far up your chest his length reaches. your thoughts are drawn back to the hot mouth that’s latching to your nipple, bitting and sucking like it’s the last thing he’ll do. charlie groans around your breast, massaging the other one with his hand rough palms creating a friction you try to get closer to. he’s slurping and biting so roughly you’re whining without realizing, tears pricking your eyes from the sharp pain. it’s so devastating you think it might be the way you want to go out.

and when you feel you might just come from his mouth on your breasts, he’s moving off you with a pop to his lips. it’s reminiscent of your actions downstairs and his cock twitches at the image. he leans back to take a look at his work releasing your wrists, bite marks and bruises littering your shaking chest and his lips curl in a smile. you think you’ve never seen him genuinely happy until now. he stays out of your reach kneeling between your spread legs and you almost complain until he’s peeling your underwear off you, it’s sticky and you revel in the cool air finally grazing your heat. charlie’s eyes are inexplicably drawn to how you’re nearly dripping onto his sheets, the light illuminating how badly you needed him, and from the looks of it it was just as long as he did. you can’t help the moan slip from your mouth when he’s biting his lips and spreading your folds to watch a fat wad of arousal drop down to your ass.

your pleasure ends when you see him leaning down for a taste, far too gone for any more foreplay. you need him and you need him now. you’re twitching when you slide your fingers into his hair, drawing your gaze to him. the hunger in his gaze doesn’t dissolve but the black of his eyes seems to soften when he sees your wrecked expression.

“please i need your cock, now please.” you’re begging and charlie can’t say no to that. he’s been aching for what feels like forever. he coos at your request, wiping the tears you didn’t even notice were falling and moves back on top of you, the satisfying weight against you calming whatever worries you had. but he doesn’t give you what you want. his fingers, still spreading your folds dip into you, there’s zero resistance from your sopping entrance, but the stretch makes your eyes roll back. “please.” you don’t want his fingers, you don’t care if he splits you in half at this point.

“relax baby,” he’s soothing you as best as he can when he just wants to sink into you. instead of focusing on where he can make you unravel, he scissors you open, getting impatient himself. you hum at the shift, bringing his lips to yours with a hand still threading through his hair. when he adds a third finger you groan at the stretch. “so tight darling, you won’t be able to take me.” he’s purring at you, teasing you. you can’t string the words together to dissuade him. when he’s satisfied you’re stretched enough he pulls back, licking his fingers and groaning at the taste. devine, just like he expected.

despite your wishes he’s leaning back, tapping his angry cock head against your clit, and you realize his words may be true. your legs slide over his shoulders like they were made to be there and when you look down at your entrance, panic creeps in.

“i don’t think it will fit.” he watches your eyes widen, your brows furrowed in genuine concern. it’s comical.

“where did my good girl go? you were just begging for it.” he’s teasing you, laughing at the way your wide eyes meet his. without you responding, he slips his head towards your entrance, catching on it and slipping away, fuck you were so tight. you whimpered at the feeling, trying to slink away from him but he tightens his hold on your hips. you realize, albeit far too late, your heels are still on and very much on his shoulders.

“it won’t fit.” you’re pleading with him, for what exactly you’re not sure. and then he’s leaning down, pressing the tops of your thighs back towards you, folding you in half, his lips not quite reaching yours.

“i’ll make it fit.” without warning he’s nudging at your entrance again, bullying his way in and you whine and jostle at the feeling. it’s too big, the stretch too much and you feel tears prick your eyes. he’s tearing you open, ruining your for anyone else and you can’t find it in you to care.

when the tip is finally in you breathe out in relief, there’s still an ache between your legs and you know you’re dripping onto his sheets but you think the worst is over. you don’t know you’re far from it. because while charlie is a man of faith, of perseverance and virtue he can’t hold back from how addictive your pussy is. the tight hug of your cunt around his tip drives him to ease his full length into you without warning. you paw at his chest, eyes rolling back as he pushes his way fully in nestling against your cervix and curving inside you. making you gush out more liquid than you knew you had. in fact, it’s so much you’re not sure if you’re squirting or you just came. the pain and pleasure mix into one and you think scream his name. you swear you can feel him in your ribcage and you choke out a breath.

he’s barely holding himself still when his balls finally rest against you. your walls are molding to him, and he think he might have died and gone to heaven. “so fucking tight, you were made for me.” a deep groan leaves him before he can hold back and you whine at the sound, clenching down on him and making him only more painfully turned on. you can feeling him throbbing inside, carving you out, the veins of his cock pressed against.

when you begin to squirm under him, still not used to his size but not in pain, he starts moving. every time he moves out he feels he has to push back in, your poor abused cunt is gripping him so tight, he feels bad even pulling out. the burn becomes so intense and every time his tip bumps your cervix you twitch beneath him. he presses a sweet kiss to your ankle over the strap of your heels before pressing his hips down and reaching even deeper. you cry out his name at the change in position and then he’s drilling into you like he wants you to be ruined forever. you don’t know where your orgasms start or end as he continuously fucks against your most sensitive spot, your mind numb from pleasure and the only word leaving your lips is his name and cries of pleasure.

he’s no better, he swears he might be addicted to you. the way you call out his name, the way you clench around him when he groans and how you seem to still get wetter from his thrusts. he hopes you don’t blame him when he feels himself getting close already, from the look on your face he realizes you might not be able to think at all. his pace is cruel, driving you into the mattress and likely denting the wooden floor.

your mind is fractured into a million tiny pieces; the only thing you know is that you need him. and when he’s close he’s pressing into you like he wants to get you pregnant, he’s breeding you, making you his and you come again. there’s no room for his cum inside you, so it’s leaking out the sides and he can’t have that, not after how good you’ve been, how well you take him, so he’s scooping it back up and fingering it inside you all the while pumping you full. you don’t know when you started crying but you can taste the saltiness of your tears when you pull him down for a kiss, savoring in the drag of his tongue along your teeth and you suck on it slightly, still hungry. he wishes the moment could last forever, but begrudgingly he pulls out and swallows down your whimper. how could he ever begin to atone for this? he had a feeling he would be begging for forgiveness for the rest of his life, there was no way he could forget you.

#father charlie mayhew #father charlie x reader #father charlie smut #father charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas alexander chavez smut #glossgojo #nicholas alexander chavez x reader

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lacydollette · 21 days ago

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Lol, this is from my own current personal angst in my life but I was thinking it can be used for an angsty Rafe x Reader. I have very low self esteem, I don't think I look pretty so I have a hard time accepting that a guy could be interest in me or find me appealing, especially cuz guys have called ''mid''. Right now I'm talking to THE sweetest guy. THE most greenest flag of all. Super respectful, mature and kind. I had a freakout and pushed him away, wanted to stop talking. He got super upset, send me a drunk text basically being like ''I'm so attracted to u and your everything I've ever dreamt of. I just wanna make you happy and make you smile. Your so special to me. I keep saying that your beautiful, amazing and gorgeous but you won't hear it. Please don't let your insecurites get in the way of us. I fkn miss you'' I mean...hey feel free to take whatever inspiration you want from that, change it, build on it, whatever you want! We just want a sappy head over heels Rafe who is heartbroken being pushed away (but with a happy ending)

a/n tysm for sharing this with me! and please don’t let your doubts get in the way of your happiness. you are BEAUTIFUL and you MATTER ❤️‍🩹 i hope u like this little piece.

warnings rafe cameron x fem!reader, reader with low self esteem, situationship, angst, fluff, rafe being a sweetheart

Rafe couldn’t really tell when it started, but he could feel it in your forced smiles and short responses. He tried to convince himself it was nothing, but the ache in his chest told him otherwise. Every attempt to figure out what he had done wrong was met with your dismissive shrug and a short, “I’m fine.”

But what Rafe didn’t know about was the chaos in your mind. You liked him—really liked him—but your insecurities were keeping you from letting yourself fall completely. You couldn’t ignore the way girls seemed to flirt with Rafe at parties, the way people whispered that you weren’t pretty or cool enough, to be with someone like him. It didn’t matter how many times he told you that you were beautiful—the doubt in your mind drowned out his words. So, you began to pull away, convinced it was only a matter of time before he realized you weren’t what he wanted.

And that’s why Rafe ended up going to this party alone, although it should have been a night that you two spend together. You had promised to go, only to back out at the last minute with a stupid excuse about not feeling well. Rafe knew you were lying. Obviously he didn’t want to go without you, but after Topper wouldn’t stop begging him, he gave in.

He spent the first hour trying to lose himself in the crowd, nursing a beer and pretending to laugh at Topper’s jokes, but it was useless. Every girl who tried to flirt with him only reminded him of you, and every drink made the knot in his chest tighten. Eventually, he escaped out into the yard, needing space to think—or maybe just to breathe.

The cool night air sobered him slightly, but not enough to stop him from pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over your contact before he finally hit call. It rang three times before you picked up.

“Rafe?” You said softly, voice trembling slightly. You winced at how vulnerable you sounded.

“hi, baby.” he said, his voice breaking slightly before going right in. “What’s going on with you? Please, just tell me. Did I do something? Did I hurt you somehow? Because if I did, fuck I swear to God, I didn’t mean to.”

Your throat tightened, guilt twisting in your stomach. He sounded so desperate, so unlike the confident, self-assured Rafe you knew. You didn't know what to say, how to explain something you couldn't even fully understand yourself.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep guessing what’s wrong. I care about you too much to lose you like this.” His voice cracked, and he raked a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “I’m completely crazy about you. I don’t care about anyone else. You’re it for me. You’re the only one I want.”

Your heart shattered at his words. He cared about you, really cared about you. But how could he? How could someone like Rafe Cameron, with his perfect smile and effortless charm, care about someone like you?

"Rafe..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. “No,” he interrupted. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. I think about you all the time—when I wake up, when I go to sleep. You’re all I want, y/n. And if there’s even a part of you that feels the same way—then please, stop pushing me away.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Rafe leaned against a tree, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. Then he heard you breathe out, followed by muffled sobs, which you tried so hard to suppress by pressing your palm over your mouth. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words sink in and erase all your doubts. But the fear was still there.

“I didn’t think I was enough for you,” you finally whispered, voice trembling. “You could have anyone, Rafe. And people keep saying I don’t deserve you, and maybe they’re right.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice rising as he couldn’t believe that you’d actually think that. “Baby, you’re more than enough. You’re everything. Don’t let what other people say get in your head. They don’t know you. They don’t know us.”

Your sniffle came through the line, and he could picture you wiping your tears, head bowed like it always was when you were upset. “I just… I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” he replied softly. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane.” He paused. “Please, just let me in. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and you believed him. Believed that he was serious about you two. “Okay.” You said. Relief washed over him, and he exhaled shakily. “Okay,” he repeated, his lips curving into a smile. “I’m coming to you right now.”

Your eyes widened, “No, Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said firmly. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to you. We’ll figure this out together.” And with that, he ended the call, his heart pounding with determination. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

#blurbs ₊˚⊹♡#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader

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karen360-x3 · 11 months ago

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HAPPY 7TH ANNIVERSARY TO HOLLOW KNIGHT AAAAHHHH

This comics took so long to make, but it was worth it honestly <3

See it as my love letter to this truly amazing game ^^

To this day, hollow knight is still my favorite game of all times, and I cannot stress enought how much this game allow me to sharpen my drawing skills!

I met the most amazing people in this fandom, and we are still friends to this day...If they see this, I wanna say thanks to them for helping me so much!

Also, a BIG thank you to the people who follow me and appreciate my art <3

This means alot!!

Honestly, I don't care that Silksong is taking time, because with or without Silksong, I was able to play this beautiful game that is Hollow Knight, and you can't put a price on that (I think we're taking video games for granted nowadays, especially this one cuz, just think about it: it was a team of less that 5 members that put together this beauty, and I loved every second of it)

But anyways, I think I'm done with my renting haha!

Happy birthday Hollow Knight, and a big thank you to Team Cherry <3

You guys rocks !(they won't ever see this but whatever)

Edit: Soooo I just realized that I used the wrong version of the last page (there's 2 versions of that page : one with thsome slight soul particles outside the panel, and one without)

I chose the wrong one when I posted it here, and it already got massively rebloged in less than a day blblblbl but I fixed it anyways (y'all are crazy fr 😭)

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notsodailycake · 2 months ago

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Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

#mecha pilot jazz au #oh god I'm so nervous about this one #i hope yall like it #and plz plz share whatever thoughts you have on this (as long as they're positive ofc bc my ego is very fragile YwY)#cake writed #yeah that's a tag now #cakes art #transformers #tf jazz #tf prowl #jazzprowl

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