#there’s only one more fandom I recognise so the next few are going to be interesting

[temporaryrose200]

✩Baby Photos✩

✟pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x GNReader

✟genre: Fluff

✟warning: Nothing

✟One-Short

✟fandom: Twisted Wonderland

✟summary: After coming back from visiting family, Floyd has a little surprise for you involving your boyfriend Azul

Spring break had ended, your boyfriend, Azul and the twins had spent the break with their families and today you finally were going to see him again after a plainly long few weeks of being apart. You called him but usually, they would last for an hour. So now with Azul back from the Coral Sea the two of you planned on meeting up at the Lounge.

Walking into the Mostro Lounge that you had oddly missed, not even a few seconds, Floyd had jumped out from nowhere, smiling, showing off his sharp toothy grin. “Hiya Shrimpy~” the teal-headed teen teased watching with excitement as you nearly jumped out of your skin. Your eyes were wide open and you took a deep breath, placing a hand over your heart trying to calm it down. You most definitely didn’t miss this.

Giving Floyd a nervous smile, you gave him a small wave, muttering out your own hello. A long arm slithered around your neck, pushing you closer towards Floyd’s body. A mischievous smile danced around his face, putting you on edge. You never could get a read on him. “Do you need something, Floyd” you questioned, watching him giggle in response. He had something planned and that scared you.

“I’ve got you a present~,” Floyd said in a sing-song voice, leading you over to an empty table. Sitting yourself down in one of the booths, the teal-headed teen sat himself across from you smiling with glee. He reached into his pocket, you watched with furrowed brows waiting for him to pull out something frightening. Yet it didn't come. Instead, he placed down a stack of pictures. Warily you sent Floyd a suspicious look, still not trusting him.

Slowly reaching out towards the pictures, you pulling them closer towards your side of the table. Looking at the first one, staring up at you with wide cornflower blue innocent eyes was a platinum white-haired chubby mer-octopus baby. Glancing up at Floyd with a wide grin stretched across your face, you stared at him in disbelief. Flipping through them, you recognise the baby to be Azul. “Where did you even get these from?” You questioned, your eyes not even looking up, too captivated by the adorable picture of your boyfriend. “Cuz Azul would have never agreed to give there’s to you” you pointed out with a laugh.

With his hand resting against his head, Floyd was slouching in the booth with a bored expression. “His mom” he replied with a shrug, his eyes fixated on the aquarium tank next to him, watching as the fish go by. “Told her that Azul's partner would love to see baby pictures of their boyfriend and she was more than happy to give them to me” he added.

Laughing to yourself, you glanced down at the next picture. A fond smile grew across your face as you were met with a picture of Azul inside a clay pot. “Aww,” you gushed out loud, a hand covering your mouth to hide your giggles. He was a cute baby. Footsteps were heard coming which caught Floyd’s attention but you, on the other hand, were too busy looking at the next picture to notice. Floyd immediately knew who it was and I mischievous smirk spread across his face.

“My dear, If I had known you were here I wouldn’t have kept you waiting” came the familiar voice of your boyfriend. Your face paled when you heard Azul's voice. Slowly you glanced up, Azul was standing only a few feet away from you and next to him was Jade, holding the same smug expression as Floyd. Smiling nervously at your boyfriend, you tried to hide the guilty look on your face. “What are you looking at?” Azul questioned, his eyes looking down at the pictures you were holding. You stayed silent, not knowing how to tell him you were looking at pictures of him which he was self-conscious about.

It didn’t take Azul that long to figure it out. A bright pink blush engulfed his entire face and he glared daggers at the twins. You placed the picture down on the table confirming to Azul it was what he was thinking. “That was why you were distracting me in my office” Azul accused Jade, pointing an angry finger at him. “So your brother could show my partner!” Picking up the photos off the table he shook them around in anger. “THESE baby photos of ME!” Jade only smiled, a hand covering his mouth hiding his chuckles.

Watching your boyfriend this humiliated made you feel guilty. You knew he was self-conscious about how he looked in the past and you still looked, but how could you not? Sliding out from your seat, you placed a reassuring hand on his arm, stroking him gently. “Let’s just go in your office” you suggested, looking up at Azul who was still blushing like mad. Nodding, Azul began walking with you to his office, but not without telling the twins that he’ll talk to them later.

Entering the office, Azul marched towards his desk, sitting down with a huff. He flipped through the pictures muttering angrily about something. Closing the door, you bit the bottom of your lip, trying to come up with something. You knew he wasn’t upset with you, but you couldn't help but feel guilty. It seemed as though he was going to cry and that broke your heart. “This is such an ugly picture of me” you heard him mutter to himself.

Stopping by his desk, you looked over his shoulder seeing what he was talking about. It was the picture of him in the pot that you were gushing about only a few minutes ago. “That’s my favourite” you stated, leaning against him. Azul turned his head, frowning up at you. “It’s such an adorable picture” you continued, taking the picture off him. Azul scoffed at your words, obviously not believing them, thinking they were just a way to make him feel better. “I’m serious! I don’t even know why you hate it. You look adorable” you reassured, taking the picture from him. Pouting, Azul didn't say anything, too flustered to actually talk. “Perfect in my eyes.”

Azul hated feeling this vulnerable, especially around you. But you never really judged him and he appreciated you for that. When looking at a version of him, Azul could see all his flaws, but you always seemed to see the best in him.

[gor3-hound]

MAMA'S BOY - NERO

ft. nero x fem!reader

a/n: if nero does not stop looksmaxxing omfg why is it so hard to find a pic where he isn't mewing? this is admittedly so super self-indulgent and idek what the dmc fandom on tumblr is saying so... if this gets four notes i'll still die happy. feedback and reblogs appreciated :3 ty to @thevirgincherry for beta reading !! ilysm MWAH

cw: 18+ content, mdlb, nipple play, tit play(?) in general, use of mama, handjob, cum eating, super sappy smut basically

word count: 1.8k words

“You've gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Is the first thing that spills past Nero's lips when you mention shifting the dynamics a little bit in your relationship. He's giving you an incredulous look, one of his brows arching towards his hairline.

“I'm really not. You're so irritable all the time. You need to let yourself relax. All that cynicism is getting to your head.” You say with a frown, your brows furrowing as you look at your boyfriend. He's giving you that look again - the one that says he's about three seconds away from saying something downright horrific, but he's choosing not to - to spare your feelings, of course.

“Right. And so, what… you coddling me like a kid's meant to… miraculously make me a ray of sunshine?” He scoffs, his own brows pinching together in frustration as he runs his hand through his hair. The cybernetic one, ‘cause his human hand is currently twitching at his side. “Baby, I love you, but seriously. I've been handling myself for a long while. I don't need you to do it.”

You know it's not that - you know Nero well enough to recognise the uncomfortable shift of his feet and the way the tips of his ears turn a slight pink. He's embarrassed, even if he's trying to hide it. A sense of unease always comes over him when he thinks about being taken care of. It's a luxury he's never had - one he thinks he doesn't deserve.

You give him that look that he really, really hates. ‘Cause you really are the only person that's always looked out for him, so seeing the way your eyes narrow in frustration is enough to have him wanting to kneel at your feet with his tail between his legs, rubbing himself against your thighs and pleading until you forgive him.

Shit. Maybe he's more cut out for this whole ‘mama’ shit than he thought.

His resolve wavers, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck before he lets out a soft sigh and nods. “Alright, alright. I’ll try it out, but I ain't promisin’ shit.”

                              ˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Turns out all Nero needs is a few stern words and gentle touches and he's rolling over like a good boy, exposing the soft underbelly he tends to try and keep hidden. When he comes home drained and you're quick to guide him to a bath, it's hard for him not to completely melt under your attention.

Scratch his scalp when you're washing his hair, and he's fully ready to go all ‘yes, mama’ to whatever you want. He's happy to bare himself for you. You want him bent over the back of the couch? On all fours? He'll stick his tongue out and beg for it like a good boy if it meant you'd give him that proud expression that makes his heart feel like it's beating again. Mama gets what mama wants, and that's an irrefutable fact.

“C'mere, baby.” You coo after he makes his way into the apartment after a long day of ‘work’. Blood splatters his feet dragging against the floor. His movements are exhausted - slow and rugged. You can see that glazed over look making itself present in his eyes, his gaze somewhere off in the distance.

His body is working on autopilot as he makes his way to the sofa you're sitting on. He flops down next to you, and the change in him is immediate. The tension melts from him as he buries his face into your chest, nuzzling his way between your breasts as his hands clutch your waist tight enough that it's almost painful.

“Mama…” He croaks out, pressing himself right up against you, trying to wriggle his way on your lap without ever having to disconnect any part of himself from your warmth. You cradle him as best you can - it's not necessarily the easiest thing to have a 6’2 demon hybrid trying to curl up on your lap like a kitten, but he always manages to find a way to worm himself into your arms, clinging to you like he's scared you're gonna vanish as soon as he closes his eyes.

He's never found it so easy to be loved by someone. You gave him that unconditional, no strings attached love. You loved him just ‘cause he was worth loving in your eyes. Not because you needed him for something, or because you had some sense of pity for his situation.

You were easy to love, and his love for you was unwavering and all consuming. It was far too easy to fall into you with your kind eyes and gentle touch. He didn't have to deal with the shit of his life when he was with you. He could finally relax. He was safe.

“Missed you.” He breathes out against the skin peeking out from the low collar of your shirt, his blue eyes flicking up to gaze at your face. His nose brushes your skin, his hands pawing at your shirt as if he's trying to entice you to take it off. “Mama… please.”

“You gotta ask properly, baby. Use your big boy words, c'mon. What do you want from mama?” You coo, running a hand through his white hair. You let your nails rake over his scalp lightly, enjoying the way he shivers at the touch.

His hands slide under the fabric of your shirt, trying to tug it off anyway. He's never been good at this part - getting the words out. His cheeks grow all pink and he gets quiet, just whining until you let him pull the shirt off of your body. As soon as your tits are in view, he's licking, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he can get his mouth on.

“So impatient, baby.” You scold lightly, helping him adjust slightly so you can slip down his trousers, freeing his cock. It's already rock hard and leaky, the tip flushed red as it oozes precum down his length. “S'okay though. It's not your fault. Mama knows you can't think straight without her help.”

You give his dick a squeeze, his face scrunching up so prettily as he bucks his hips into your tight grip, his cock pulsing in your hand. “Mama… Mama, please. I'll be good, c'mon. Been good, just tou-”

His words are cut off with a groan as you finally start pumping his length in your hand, circling your wrist and running your thumb along his slit everytime you fist the head of his cock. You let go to spit into your palm before stroking him again, leaving him panting into your breasts.

His lips latch onto one of your nipples as you continue touching him, slick sounds filling the room. He suckles greedily, his eyes becoming heavy-lidded as he looks up at you, his tongue flicking eagerly against your nipple.

Your free hand cups his head, holding him against your tit as you let him fuck your fist. Your thumb brushes back and forth on his scalp as he pulls away from your nipple, biting and sucking marks into the flesh of your tits instead as his thumb plays with one of your nipples, stroking and pinching the bud.

“You're making such a mess, baby. Leaking all over mama's hand.” You tease, digging your nail lightly into his slit as he bucks his hips, a low whine spilling from his lips. “You sound so pretty, though. Lucky I'm so good to you, huh, pretty boy?”

You can see the conflict on his face at that nickname, the twitch of his brows and the way his face heats up, his teeth biting down just a little harsher as if he's trying to protest the choice. He can act all he wants, but his dick doesn't lie - and it always kicks when you call him that.

“Mama… gonna cum, mama, please…” He grits out, fucking your fist with more urgency. He pulls his face away from your tits just so he can shift his body to gain better control of his hips, rutting into your hand desperately as he chases his release. “Tits, mama. Lemme… lemme cum on you, please. I'll clean it up, promise. Please.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, watching him writhe as he struggles not to cum, his eyes tearing up and his face all flushed as he continues to jerk his hips, unable to stop chasing the pleasure you're giving him.

“Alright, baby. C’mere then.” You murmur, shifting to lie on your back. As soon as your grip on him loosens, he's quick to straddle your waist, kneeling over your body as he hungrily fists his cock, aiming it down towards your breasts.

“Fuck, mama. Gonna… gonna cum.” He grits, his hand quickly coming down next to your head to support his weight as he slumps forward, ribbons of white coating your chest. His lips part in a silent moan, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

He takes a couple of seconds before he leans down, his tongue sliding along your soiled skin. He laps up every drop of his release happily, his eyes practically shimmering with satisfaction.

“There we go. Such a good boy, cleaning up your mess.” You say softly, your hand finding his hair once more, scratching behind his ear in a way that never fails to have him melting in your grasp. He rests his head on your stomach when he's cleaned you up fully, his hand reaching out for yours. He yawns a little, letting himself lie across the couch while using you as his personal pillow.

“You sleepy?” You ask softly, gazing down at his hooded eyes. Nero nods softly, blinking slowly a few times. You smile at him, still stroking his hair with one hand as your free hand comes down to rest on his back, your thumb rubbing small circles there. “Take a nap, baby. Mama will be here when you wake up.”

He gives you another one of his looks - the one halfway between pure adoration and complete confusion. He knows you're someone that sees him. That sees Nero behind the front he puts up. Somehow, you're aware of how fucked up he is, and you're still willing to stay. He doesn't know how to take it, he can feel himself getting choked up as he meets your eyes. And he can't cry, not in front of you. So he nods again, closing his eyes to keep in the unshed tears, wrapping you up tightly in his free arm while his hand squeezes yours as hard as he can without hurting you.

“Alright, mama. Night.” He croaks out, the words he wants to say dying on his tongue. But when you rub your thumb over the nape of his neck and squeeze his hand back, he knows you felt it. He knows you love him, too. He knows that despite everything, it's enough for you. 

He's enough for you.

[tavyliasin]

The Highs and Lows of Fandom Creation

Hello darlings~ It has been a little while and this one has been on my list to get to for a while, and with the Baldur's Date Valentine's Fanworks event soon to draw to a close it seems appropriate to start preparing ourselves for the cycle of what happens when we release our works into the wild. So without further ado, our latest essay~

The RollerCoaster of Emotion That Comes With Being A Creative In Fan Spaces (FanArt, FanFiction, Cosplay, Photography, Music, and So Much More) ((Another CallOut Essay Prepare To Be SEEN)) (((Also I Have Some Coping Techniques Here Too!)))

As usual with my essay pieces I will be making plenty of use of the headers to divide topics, and I fully welcome any thoughts and feelings in the comments. Whilst I am really only in the FanFic side, and a focus on Baldur's Gate 3, I do intend to make this essay inclusive of the trials and tribulations that we all tend to face in making and sharing fanworks of all kinds and through all fandoms. The more people I speak to, the more it seems to be a universal experience, so hold on to your hats it's a bumpy ride! The first part will talk about the Rollercoaster itself, the how and why behind it all, and the second will be around how to cope with it. For readers and appreciators of fan content, I urge you to have a little look too, and at the end I will add in some ways you can help support your favourites too~

Creatives Are Emotional Beings

Starting off with the obvious callout - most of us are. We feel things deeply, and that emotion can often be an incredible driving force behind our works. Whether we're creating around things we've experience, being inspired and influenced by our current emotions, or drawing on our well of imagination to work out what characters might feel (and often more importantly how/why they feel that way), emotion is a strong part of the process.

This can be an incredible strength! Tapping in to the deeper parts of ourselves, our experiences, and the emotions at our cores, can bring out the very best in our works across all creative formats. It also tends to help our audiences engage too, as they recognise their own emotions mirrored in the works.

The Downside to Strong Emotion - The Rollercoaster Effect

This chart was initially drawn up based on writing, but truly after speaking with a few beloved Discord friends it was quick to see that this easily applies to art as well, so I'm going to go over this slightly differently to the initial plan.

The Start Of Every Ride

We begin usually around a neutral baseline, or maybe a little below if we haven't created in a while, perhaps we might start higher than baseline with the rush of an exciting new idea. Either way, the first part of the project tends to go up in mood very quickly when we share those early unfinished parts.

For writers this might be a beta reader or sharing a sample of the work as they're still writing as a teaser, artists might see this as their initial sketch or linework stage if they're sharing progress and teasers too. Cosplayers could be the first part of a build, musicians sharing a few bars of the melody - whatever it is, that first little positive boost that says Keep Going is a powerful one.

But what happens next? Well, you still have more work to do! That initial boost and confidence can drop down to a slump, especially if it's taking longer to complete than you thought it would, and double that if something goes wrong that needs to be changed or fixed.

You may, hopefully, find it begins to rise as things start to come together again and that finish line in sight, but then...

I Finished Making The Thing, Now What?

Well, first you're going to feel that massive surge of satisfaction from completing the thing. Sometimes a dopamine rush in the brain, and all that excitement of "Finally I get to share the thing I worked so hard on! It's done!" So, off you go, you post it. You share the links, maybe drop them in some Discord servers, other social media...and then, often very quickly, it hits you.

Post Publishing Drop

Those of you in the convention and event scene might also know this feeling as "Con Drop", which can take a little longer to manifest. Post Publishing Drop hits quite quickly. Sometimes it might take a few hours, but other times it starts almost within minutes of posting as all that rush of energy finishing and publishing is just...gone.

If you're lucky, you might get some quick and early feedback, especially if you're a well known or popular creator, but I imagine even those of you who tend to get very high engagement can feel a lot of this too so I don't mean to exclude any of you in any way at all~ So what is it? What's happening? WHY?!

Well darlings all that adrenaline is wearing off and realistically you're not likely to get that creative feedback and validation instantly. So that wonderfully powerful emotional heart of yours is going to crack a little. It won't last, it won't stay this low, but good gods that lack of engagement and positive reinforcement can be devastating.

The first engagements you get - kudos, likes, reaction emotes on a Discord post - they may be enough to boost you right back up to your baseline or even a little above, until the worry creeps back in again. And I know that it does, clawing and slithering in the back of your beautifully creative mind whispering those horrible lies:

Why isn't this getting the reaction I hoped for yet? Is this work not as good as before? Have people stopped liking me? Is the website/platform hiding my work? Have I upset people somehow in ways I can't even see?

Then Back Up We Go, And What Goes Up...

Hopefully those voices don't get a chance to be too loud for too long before you see more of that engagement. Maybe it's a heartfelt comment from someone, or a share from someone you respect, or just a little surge of interaction in general. You're back on top, darling, your creative heart is soaring, finally your work is being seen in a way that reminds you why you put in all that time in the first place!

And each time, the high wears off again, with a drop, though the extremities of each is likely less and less as time goes on. Unless, of course, we make one little mistake and the gradual confidence build comes crashing back down...

The Perils Of Comparing

Sometimes this might be looking at someone else's work, seeing a similar style or similar topic get far more engagement than your own. It can be really hard not to feel discouraged by this, and falling into that trap of questioning where you're "going wrong" can lead to absolute agony - I urge you to do your best to move away from this as soon as you notice the feeling. I'll cover some proper techniques later though, I promise!

The other trap with comparison can be looking at your own past works, and over-analysing why some pieces never got the same love and appreciation as others. Picking it apart to find what you can do better is not as wise a plan as it seems for one simple reason:

Over half of this is down to pure chance!

It might be the time of day it was posted, or just one or two people seeing it and deciding to share it on that gives a work a massive boost to interaction and engagement. Maybe a work was lucky enough to get shared in a prominent community by one of the members, or even had someone with a huge following give it a boost.

At the end of the day, there seem to be very few ways to predict this. Of course there are some characters, topics, art styles, writing tropes, etc that will have a tendency to get more love from their respective fanbases - that's how popularity works - but there is no guarantee that, for example, two portraits of the same character in similar styles by different artists will have the same levels of engagement and "success". The main person you should be aiming to please with your own work is yourself~ After all, when working on it you will be the one going over it again and again, knowing every detail in and out, if you don't love the subject of those details your less likely to even reach that finish line~

And It All Begins Again

At the end of the cycle there's often one last spike up. Maybe it's a comment or interaction from someone who truly felt the depth of meaning in your work as you hoped it would, or you realise that it has done better overall in the numbers, or most often you get that creative surge of a shiny new idea that calls to you with that familiar siren song, promising the high of satisfaction and sweeping the memory of that Post Publishing Drop under the rug all over again so you won't see it coming when you trip on it.

How Do We Get Off This Ride? Where's The Safety Bar?

Darlings, be honest, you didn't want to stop. You still don't. That's why you're still right here, reading this with me. Your cycle might take a day, a week, a month, or you may go through the whole thing in a matter of hours.

Riding The Waves

The first way to begin coping is to prepare. Know yourself and how you're likely to feel, and plan ahead for it. If you know the drop is coming, you can try to avoid it, or deploy distress tolerance when it feels too much.

On a very simple level, this can be reminding yourself that the lows do not last, and those highs will still be there. You might even be tempted to try to regulate the highs as much as the lows, to bring everything a little closer in to the baseline throughout the cycle.

Distress Tolerance techniques can be important to practice when you're feeling close to your baseline and calm so that they're easier to turn to when you're feeling that low hit. There are lots of things that work for different people, so it might be trial and error - largely you're looking at relaxation techniques, distraction from the source of the distress, and/or community support.

You Can Rely On The Community!

It is ok to ask for help! You can ask people for reassurance, directly ask for feedback, or even just talk over how you feel with other creators and find out how they're handling things. Sometimes just knowing you're not alone and that your feelings are real, valid, and matter can be a real boon - that's why I'm here, spending a couple of hours putting all of this into words as best as I can for you all. I've felt this cycle too many times, but the more I talk about it with other fic writers the more I feel we are connected and that I'm not just losing my marbles over nothing~

We are human, we have emotions - strong ones, remember? - and there's nothing wrong with that at all!

There is nothing wrong with having emotions and experiencing them!

Knowing When To Step Away

If you know you're more likely to have a swift drop from lack of quick feedback, it's a great idea to plan to step away from socials as soon as you're done. Have an activity planned, or do it all write before bed so you can switch off and go to sleep. Turn off those notifications so you aren't fussing over each one of them as they come in and don't go back for a while.

Allow a realistic amount of time to pass for people to see and engage with your work before you worry it is invisible!

The Next Shiny Idea

Conversely, if you're feeling too much of a creative itch, then as soon as you're done sharing move right on to starting the next project. Let the initial surge of energy from completing and sharing something be the driving force to kickstart the next great adventure! That way you're thinking more about the new work, the sparkling allure of a fresh idea, rather than fixating on the success of the last.

Cashing in on that adrenaline rush to make a good head-start can boost you right to that early feedback stage too, then if you're really lucky when you hit the first drop-off you'll have the positive engagement from the last work to boost you back up, so in some ways you're overlaying your graphs to balance them out with each other.

Naturally this only works if you have the time and energy to do so. It's also important to know when to take breaks to avoid burning out.

General Mood Boosting Ideas

These might not work for everyone, but here are some things to try when you're in one of those lows. A lot of this may be trial and error and knowing yourself best, so treat this as a few things that may or may not be effective rather than Lia's Super Snake Oil Cure For Everything (you have to buy that from me separately, it's super expensive but it is delightfully cherry and cinnamon flavoured~)

Check in on your basic needs. Drink, food, meds (if applicable), sleep/nap, caffeine (if you usually have it), shower/bath/hygiene needs (even if just a quick freshen up it's better than nothing), fresh air/outside time (if possible), exercise/physical movement (if you're able to), social needs (can be in person or online, any social interaction/support)

Music can be a powerful mood tool. Sometimes it's cathartic to listen to music that matches your current mood, but other times it is better to listen to music with the mood you want to feel.

Media from the fandom, like the book/film/game/etc that you're making fanworks for - return to the thing that inspired you to create and remember all the things that you loved about it in the first place.

Look at other fanworks but be very cautious! Do this for inspiration, to look at things you do and don't like in other pieces, but do not do this if it will be likely to cause a mood drop for you.

Do something different and change up your routine. Something entirely new or something you haven't done for a while.

Try something small, not connected to a large piece. A few sketches, doodles, make a meme, write a few short lines of dialogue or a brief scene. Share something with far lower stakes for a little boost.

Talk to others in the creative community and have a bit of fun, maybe try some games together, whatever you like!

I'm Not A Creative, How Can I Help?

This also counts for creatives who want to support each other, too! Of course I will put the caveat that I do understand that not everyone is comfortable visibly interacting with spice and that's fine~

Drop a like or kudos if you enjoyed the piece, it takes a second and means the world~

Leaving a comment, even a couple of silly words of "I loved it" is great!

Leaving a longer comment, picking out your favourite parts? That is the kind of boost that lasts weeks darlings it really does.

Sharing the work is also a big boost, whether publicly or privately to friend/fan groups, but especially when sharing art/images please share the link with it not just the image or a screenshot~ let people find and appreciate the artist.

Follow or Subscribe or Turn on notifications if you really want to see more of their work, then you can interact sooner and give that much needed boost~

Try to be patient, especially with longer or higher effort works. Expressing excitement is a boost, but just be careful you're not putting too much pressure on the creator. We do have things going on behind the screen that can delay our plans at times.

Consider dropping an interaction on something else, or check in on how they're doing in general - a little kindness outside of just the works being produced can be a boost too!

The Grand Finale of the Rollercoaster

Thank you for staying with me to the end darlings, I know this was likely a bit of an emotional ride, but please do drop in some comments or reblogs with the other things you experience and how you handle the emotional whirlwind of being a fan creator. Always remember, you are valued for more than just what you can produce, your works are adored but the person behind them is worth so much more and always will be. Look after yourselves, I love you dearly~

[spotsandsocks]

Something Worth Staying For

🥳Happy Birthday to the wonderful creative supportive @cowboy-buddie who makes this fandom so much fun for me. Love ya Kels Please accept this little gift, my attempt at an enemies to friends to lovers AU. 5 chapters 1 coming at you everyday (so I have time to finish the last chapter🤣)

Chapter 1 2.4K Read on AO3

Living in a small town wasn’t for everyone but Eddie liked it. When he and Chris had settled here he hadn’t been sure but slowly the place had gotten under his skin and now he was as good as a local. Well almost, Chim still called him cowboy sometimes, but Eddie had decided ignoring that was the best plan and it had mostly worked. Chim only called him that these days when he wanted to be particularly annoying. Not that he doesn’t love Chim, the man has become like his brother. In fact he’s built a small family for himself and Chris here. It turns out taking a job at a small town newspaper was the best idea he’s had in years. He’s never quite gotten over the surprise of his new boss, the paper’s editor waiting for him with his wife outside Eddie’s new front door on the day they arrived.

Bobby and Athena had been there from the start ready with a home cooked meal for their first night in town, helping them unpack, and essentially making him and Chris feel more welcome than Eddie had ever expected when he’d nervously said yes to a fresh start  and moved himself and his son halfway across the country after his divorce was finalized. 

Now he’s made a home here and has an extended family he loves dearly. It’s almost perfect. Except, he does get a little lonely sometimes, Chris is getting older and  when he’s busy and Eddie’s all alone in his house he sometimes wishes that he had someone to share his life with, he’d dated a few of the women in town but nothing had clicked. Not that he was especially bothered by the failure, he hadn’t actually really liked any of them but it would be nice to have someone special.

He’s been here almost three years now and it seems pretty unlikely that he’s going to find his dream partner, after all what are the chances of the  perfect person just turning up in Eagle Creek one day and being interested in a thirty year old single dad holding down a quiet job writing local news stories for a small town paper. 

“Eddie?”

Eddie looks up and takes a breath. 

Whatever he’d been expecting when Bobby said his name it wasn’t to see the man standing next to him. He’s tall, well built to say the least, with sandy hair which might have been blonde or brown depending on the light, and extremely blue eyes. There’s a mark of some kind over his left eye and he wonders if it’s a bruise or something more permanent. It doesn’t diminish the man’s good looks in fact in Eddie’s opinion it enhances them. Frankly he’s gorgeous. Eddie knows he finds men as attractive if not more attractive at times than women but he’s never particularly felt the urge to investigate where those thoughts could take him. He’s not a casual kind of guy and the trouble with gorgeous people is they so very often know it and in his personal (and relatively limited) experience that does very little for their personality. 

This  guy is so pretty he’s probably a complete jerk. 

Despite those warning bells as they  look at each other the stranger smiles and Eddie can’t help how his eyes flick down then back up again almost immediately, it's a nice smile. A little shy, almost sweet even. The guy isn’t giving off any particularly arrogant jackass vibes. Eddie wants to but he doesn’t let himself look again, turning his head to focus on Bobby instead.  Actually the new guy looks a lot like Bobby, maybe he’s his nephew or something, just visiting. 

Eddie returns his boss and friend’s smile, feeling strangely apprehensive for some reason. Maybe it’s because Bobby looks guilty. Eddie recognises the slightly shifty expression on the older man’s face. What has he done?

He finds out quickly.

“Eddie this is um, Buck. He’s uh…  he’s going to be working here.” Bobby won’t look at him and is rubbing his hand across his chin nervously. 

Well that’s unexpected. Eddie can’t help the sudden sharp furrow of surprise and suspicion on his brow. Bobby hadn’t mentioned anything about someone new. Do they really need someone new? Eddie hadn’t thought so in fact he’s mildly irritated by the news. Why hadn’t he been told? He looks at this ‘Buck’ person again with fresh eyes. Maybe he does look like a bit of a jerk after all. 

Jerk or not he’s still ridiculously good looking and Eddie can just imagine the stir someone who looks like Buck is going to cause in town. Nightmare, he can expect a stream of people asking him for the new guy at the paper’s number. Urgh... Just what he needs.

Bobby’s still talking, “so Buck is gonna be helping with some stuff, improvements I guess you could call it.”

Blue eyes sparkle and the man beams.  What kind of name is Buck anyway?   And really who needs to be that handsome, it’s just excessive. And wait did Eddie just hear Bobby say improvements? A sinking feeling hits him, oh no,  he didn’t actually do it did he? Bobby’s been threatening to do something about the computers since before Eddie arrived, surely he hasn’t finally done it has he?

The scowl on Eddie’s face deepens and he fails to notice the smile slipping from his new colleague’s face.

“Buck and his sister have just moved here, Maddie’s a nurse and Buck here is…” Bobby pauses and Eddie’s suspicions grow. Bobby can’t quite meet his eye. Yeah he has a bad feeling about this, there can only be one reason Bobby’s springing this on him now. Only one thing this guy is here to do. 

Still looking anywhere than at him, Bobby takes a breath and reveals Buck’s role  at the paper.

“Well Buck here, he’s well, he’s a bit of a computer whizz and kind of a social media consultant.” He says those three words quickly and moves on. “He’s going to upgrade our IT, get us online and run the “socials.” Bobby  glances  proudly at Buck for getting the word right. 

Eddie doesn’t register the responding shy and pleased smile from the younger man all he notices are the air quotes dropping in around ‘Socials’ 

The word is unfamiliar and unwelcome on Bobby's lips. Frankly he feels a little betrayed, why hasn’t he been told? He bets Karen knew  which means Hen knew and that means Chimney does as well. They’ve all probably been very  amused about how badly he’ll take it. He also thought Bobby felt the same way about the perils of the internet as he did. It’s not that he can’t use it. He has a smart phone, he can download apps just fine thank you and while it’s a running joke around here that Eddie doesn’t ‘do’ technology he’s not actually an idiot. If he wants to, he can use computers just fine, he’ll accept that the internet is vaguely useful and if he wanted to have ‘socials’ he would. He just doesn’t choose to because it stupid and pointless and you can’t really trust the internet,  no one's ever been able to convince him his phone isn’t listening to him.

Buck draws his attention back from Bobby when he speaks for the first time with what Eddie considers an unnecessarily smug quirk of his mouth,  “I’m here to drag you all into the 21st century.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you.” His voice sounds cold even to himself.

Despite glaring at new guy he catches Bobby's wince out of the corner of his eye. He knows he sounds positively hostile but he’s annoyed. The newest member of the team obviously recognises that too because the smile vanishes.

Eddie doesn’t feel bad for being unwelcoming. Not even a little bit.

Bobby sighs wearily, “This is why I didn’t tell you. You know we need to modernize. It’ll be good for us. We can reach more people, be faster, it’ll make things easier for everyone.”

Bobby pauses obviously hoping for something back. He doesn’t get it so he just shrugs, “It’s going to happen Eddie .”

“You’re the boss Bobby.” There that was neutral, mostly.

Eddie stands, avoiding eye contact with both men. “I’m going out to get lunch.” 

He doesn’t offer to get anything for anyone, which he knows is rude but he doesn’t care much right now..

Eddie lets the door behind him slam on his way out.

Bobby sighs dramatically next to him as  Buck keeps his expression as blank as he can; that did not go well. That went very badly indeed.

“That was actually ok, I was worried he’d take it worse.” 

Buck turns slowly to stare at his new boss a little incredulously. Bobby thinks that went well? Shit how bad does this Eddie guy get?

When they’d walked in Buck had been taken aback by the man sitting behind the desk. His dark hair and soft brown eyes had looked inviting for a moment. He’d smiled softly and something had tripped and fluttered in his chest. He was a damn attractive man and then when he’d started scowling at him well Buck’s always liked a challenge but he’s not stupid. He knows instant dislike when he sees it.

It’s too bad he would have liked to have made a friend. At least he has Maddie to keep him company.

“He’s not particularly friendly is he?” 

Bobby chuckles dryly,  “He is, once you get to know him. He’s a really great guy.  I think you too could be good friends.” Another sigh as Bobby looks towards the door,  “It’s my fault, I did surprise him. I’ve been putting off telling him about you. it’s just  he really does hate computers.”

Buck arches an eyebrow at the door the hot angry man had just walked out of.

“I can tell.”

“Whoah man! Mind my door.”

Chimney looks up from behind the counter where he’s just finished pouring a coffee. 

“What’s got you all twisty.”

Eddie glowers at him, “Nothing, just come for my lunch. Is that a crime?”

“Delightful mood I see?”  Karen’s voice floats over from where she’s working on her laptop at one of Chimney’s tables.

He turns, as expected she’s staring  at him, unimpressed. She fixes him with a penetrating stare which he avoids. He’s very aware he’s in a bad mood and she should know why,  after all everyone else has been told. 

He can’t help the snap in his voice, “So why aren’t you in the office to greet our new colleague.”

Karen’s eyebrows lift eloquently. He knows she knows but will she admit it?  God he’s annoyed. He doesn’t really know why he’s so upset either. Except maybe there was a moment when he looked into blue eyes that he’d felt something only to have it washed away by Bobby’s words and his rush of irritation.

Karen sips her latte coolly, “I’m a free spirit Diaz, I go wherever I want and right now I want to be here because I like it here, I get to see my wife and she brings me coffee and I get to eat Chimney’s pastries. 

She pauses and looks at him with far too much insight.

“So he’s here then.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Chim retreat.  

He knew, she knew! Everyone but him, his irritation rises again, he can just imagine it don’t tell Eddie, he’ll freak out! He’ll make a fuss.

He ignores the tiny voice inside him saying 'and were they wrong? You’re not exactly winning employee of the month right now are you?' He ignores that and  lets the comforting haze of indignation wash over him. 

“So you did know! Charming.” Karen’s admission really does nothing to improve his mood.

Karen rolls her eyes at  him. “Oooh you really are in a snit aren’t you? Poor guy can’t have upset you already. He’s not even been here a day.”

“And…” she says with a waggle of her finger “you can’t blame Bobby for putting it off. Every time he’s so much as mentioned going online you pull a face.” She nods at him, “Yeah that one.”

 He quickly wipes the expression away,  “and you sulk for at least a day.”

“I do not.”

Another voice joins in, “You do.”

Chimney’s contribution is as unwelcome as this ‘Buck’ back at his office is.

However Chimney is as resistant to his glaring as Karen is. 

“Ok so maybe I do a bit,” he admits it reluctantly “But we don’t need to go online and we certainly don’t need that guy.”

“I’ve heard he is very good at his job annnnnd…” Karen adds nonchalantly, getting somewhere close to the hidden heart of his discomfort  “I’ve seen his picture, online , “ he throws her yet another narrow eyed glare for that jibe “and if I wasn’t a happily married lesbian I’d say he’s hot. He’s going to be a popular boy round here!” 

She laughs at the noise he makes.

“He’s not that good looking” he lies because he can, “and I don’t have to like him.”

Karen stands up folding her laptop as she does. She looks more serious, teasing gone. 

“No you don’t but you do have to work with him. And the poor guy’s not done anything wrong.”

He hangs onto his resentment justified or not, he’s no longer so sure, and answers with a single surly word and sits down.

“Yet.” 

“Eddie,” Karen sighs his name, “You’re being unreasonable and you know it.”

“Perhaps I like being unreasonable.” He leans back in his chair and folds his arms then unfolds them because it looks too defensive and he doesn’t want to prove her right.

Karen shakes her head, “Go play nice with the new kid or Bobby will put you in time out.”

Eddie ignores her. He’s not sure why but this Buck guy is already under his skin. 

Karen moves towards the door, “I’m going to go meet him, you’ll be back soon right?” 

He mutters “Sure” and accepts the warning look he gets from his friend. “I’ll be polite, promise.”

He can be polite to this new guy, he is  a professional  after all and it’ll be fine. He probably won’t have  too much to do with him anyway. 

Eddie waits for his order and wonders how annoying can one guy be? 

[otterlyfoolish]

Diverging Tracks

(Chihiro Rokuhira x GN!Reader)

Warning: Probably OOC

Tags: Childhood friends, Oneshot, Fluff

Word Count: 4k

Summary:

He didn't expect to find an old friend on the train. At first, he was afraid of being pulling into a barrage of questions regarding the scar on his face, but something makes him realises that probably won't be happening.

…When on Earth did they go blind?

If you prefer reading on Ao3, here's a link!

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A/N: …I want this fandom to grow bigger, so I'm throwing this "x reader" out as a contribution (It is the only type of fanfiction I write currently) Uh, Tenoi.

---

The train station moved with the kind of hustle and bustle you'd get for a train going to a smaller sized city nearby Tokyo. Enough to make you more cautious than usual, but not enough to actually cause any problems. It was mostly just families on day trips travelling in the afternoon - no businessmen or students milling about the place.

Not that it would be too much of an issue for Chihiro anyways, he weaves through the crowd without much hesitation, smoothly making it past the little groups that's formed near the entrance of the train, the passengers languidly making it on and off the platforms. He swiftly found a seat in a empty carriage next to a window.

He leans his head back on the plush seat, turning his red eyes to face the window, staring past his reflection and onto the people milling about the station. With his right arm draped across his sword, pressing it firmly against his chest, he felt relaxed enough to not bother looking over to see the newcomer onto the train carriage.

"Sir? Ma'am?" The sound of shoes clacking against the wooden floorboards stopped right next to him. The person next to him took a small pause, as if trying to locate where he was before speaking again. "…Excuse me, Ma'am? Or sir?"

Chihiro looked up from his seat. Then he froze on the spot - his red eyes fixated on the person standing next to his seat with a polite smile.

Why were you here?

His mouth gaped for a moment, trying to think of what to say to you.

What were the chances of this happening naturally? Should he be suspicious? This wasn't a set up, was it?

…Though, looking up at you, his worries was somewhat laid to rest. Your face had the same polite smile he remembers so fondly. Lips ever so slightly curled at the edges, enough to make it seem like you were happy to see the other person, but not enough to seem overbearing in any way. You were a terrible liar - it always showed on your face - you were so bad, in fact when his father wanted to throw him a surprise birthday party, you practically gave it away with how weirdly you acted the whole day, trying to keep him from going back home. So if there was a issue, he'd probably be able to tell.

"If you don't mind, could you do me a favour?" You asked contuining your line of thought, now sensing that he was paying attention to you, your eyes still kept closed. Weird. Maybe you were up to something. Also you called out for "ma'am". There wasn't much about him that he would say earned him that title instead of "sir".

…Are they really up to something?

"…Sure." He responded. Well. You could also be trying to play a stupid joke on him again. The scar on his face was on the side opposite you - meaning that there was a chance that you haven't seen it. In fact, maybe you just haven't recognised him altogether. It has been a few years. Besides, he doubts he was your best friend at the time. At best he was… probably number three or something.

"Great! Thank you so much." You smiled at him, the curve of your lips becoming a little bit more noticeable. "Could you tell me if this is a 1000 yen note, or a 2000 one?" You ask, showing him the bill. "Usually, I can tell, but this bill is a little old and crumpled. It's a bit harder…"

He glances between you and the currency in your hands before asking the first question that came to mind when you asked for that favour. "…Can't you just look at it?"

There was another moment of silence as you seemed to let the question sink in the air. Something you did when you were trying not to offend the other by thinking of an appropriate response, but also wanted to subtly show disapproval for whatever reason. (It actually took him a while to figure this out until you just told him outright why you took your time answering sometimes.)

"…Sir, I'm blind." You reply back, your happy smile returning back to the polite one before.

His eyes widen, pupils almost frantic looking on any indication on your face that you were perhaps lying or maybe even something to tell him that you were blind. At the sound of his silence, you shifted your feet back and forth a little, waiting for any kind of response from him. Shit. You really weren't lying.

"Sorry." He clears his throat. His mind still running a mile a minute. When did they go blind? Is it sickness? Were they ill? "It's a 1000 yen note."

"…Ah. Okay." You nod back at him in response, almost a little disappointed at his answer, but it still doesn't faze your smile. "Well, thank you…!" You say, forcing your polite tone to come back, but when you turn away from him and go to sit probably a couple seats in front of him, you sigh to yourself, shoulders slumping as you clutched the bill in your hands.

…Chihiro knows that he should leave you alone. It's been too long since the two of you last met, making it awkward to strike up a conversation, not that he's ever really the type to do that to begin with, but still. He also doesn't want to answer any questions you might have regarding what happened. Dead dad. Essentially homeless. How do you say you've turned to a life of vengeance against one of the strongest group of sorcerers to your childhood friend while also on a quest retrieving the enchanted blades that ended the war? Oh yeah, you don't.

So the words that come out of him next isn't really words that came from his mind, and more so from instinct. "…What's wrong?" You weren't the type to talk about your problems unless prompted, so he was used to having to watch you carefully if you wanted to talk about anything in the past. Which was difficult, since he didn't get many chances to hang out with kids his age (basically none), so he wasn't exactly trained for those situations. Thankfully, it wasn't often, but he just made it a habit to ask you that every few weeks when it seemed like you were being too quiet.

"…Uhm… Well. I think…" You trailed off, turning your head back to face him. He wonders if you did this more for his comfort rather than yours - you didn't need to bother to turn around to see him anymore since you, y'know, can't see. "I think… the person that sold me my lunch didn't give me the correct change…? I gave them ¥5000, and the lunch was ¥3000, so I should get ¥2000 back, right? Not ¥1000?" You ask, as if there was actually any doubt in the amount of money you should have gotten.

…Of course, they got ripped off so easily. Actually, this might have worked on them even if they could still see.

A very short mental battle took place in his mind before he continues speaking. "…Was it the vendor right outside the train?" He asks, seeing you still depressed over the missing money.

"Yeah, you should avoid going there if you're getting lunch I guess…" You say, folding the bills and turning them back into your wallet with a sigh. "M'sure it's just a mistake, but…"

This was his second failure - when he couldn't just pull himself out of the conversation and leave. Just shut up. Or sit even further away from you. Or go to another carriage - fucking rebook his train if he had to and phone Mr. Shiba that he was getting a later train. But no.

"…Give me your receipt." He says, getting up and outreaching his arm to you. "I'll talk to them."

Strangely enough, you seemed to expect it from him. You didn't even question him, rummaging into your wallet to find it, until you pulled out the little slip of paper. "…Remember, it's just 1000 yen. It's probably a mistake."

"Hm." He hums back, taking the little slip of paper from you. When you offered it over to him, you raised your hand way too low down for him to naturally take - what, did you think he was that short? If he was still a teenager, maybe it would be acceptable, but since he's grown, he had a stretch his hand down to take it from you. "Okay. I'll be back."

You gave him a nod in response, not quite facing the correct height of where his face was, but he accepted it all the same.

---

When he comes back with the money, his feet barely need an instruction to go and find you, his boots purposely making more noise than usual as if to purposely alert you to his presence. It'd be somewhat scary for someone's voice to just suddenly appear right next to you, if you couldn't see, right? He's just being polite.

It seems like it worked, considering you tilted your head over to the direction he was coming from, only now you had sat in the spot opposite where he was sitting. Before you did, you weren't looking at the window like other passengers would while waiting, instead, you had just angled your head to face downwards at a slight decline, as if you were faking sleeping.

As he walks over, he realised that he could have just run off with the money and left you waiting on the train for nothing. His ticket could be used anytime, just as long as it was for this train.

…They haven't changed very much, huh?

"Here." He says, offering out the money to you, but realised that you couldn't pinpoint where exactly he was holding it out. "…Put your hand out."

"Oh!" You replied, lifting your head up in a excited manner and putting your palms upside out for him to place the bills on. "Did you get any money back?" You ask, the question basically redundant considering he said to put your hands out - clearly he had something to give you.

"Yeah." He says, tucking it into the crook of where your thumb met your palm. "2000 yen." He firmly presses his thumb into the flesh of your palm as he tucks it in, as if making a point somehow. Perhaps the point he wanted to non-verbally convey was "don't let this happen again."

But all you got out of it was a ticklish feeling apparently because you let out a small chuckle at the sensation before you gave him a hum of approval, your fingers finding their way over to the braille marks on the bill only to realise what it was. "…I only needed ¥1000 to make it the correct amount."

It wasn't exactly a mistake - he just asked the person running the counter about the receipt, and they handed over the money without much else prompting. It seemed that they realised what he was even going to ask before he finished his sentence. Even so, he can't exactly find it within him to be apologetic for his actions (or inaction?), they played ignorant first to a blind person first - and so he lets out all that he could be bothered to in response. "…Hm."

And like perfect timing, the train doors shut and the click and clack of the wheels could be heard moving the vehicle along the tracks. Even though Chihiro was standing upright, he was barely fazed by the sudden acceleration of the vehicle, still standing there waiting for your reaction.

"…Well, nothing can be done about it now." You say, laughing it off as you slip the bill into your wallet, the slip of paper making it just marginally thicker than before. "Thank you, I really appreciate it."

…Carefree as always.

Since the conversation seemed to reached it's natural end, he flicked his eyes from you to the train carriage's reflection, looking at the other available seats around you.

He debated sitting in another section, he doesn't want to get found out who he is by talking to you any longer. Sure, his voice has gotten deeper since last time he spoke to you, but who knows if you could pick on on the subtle lifts and falls unique to his voice. His father said he spoke completely monotone, but you said that he always betrayed what he was thinking with the tone of his voice. Maybe you were lying to him back then.

He can't be sure, he took everything at face value when it was from you. There was no reason to doubt you, ever.

…And just like that, he realised that was all the more reason he needed to separate himself from you.

Just as his boot takes a step away from you, you let out a quiet 'oh!'

The sound makes him stop in his tracks turning back to look at you once more, his red eyes scanning you to see what was the problem now. "I'm sorry, you were sitting here before, weren't you? I can find another seat," you say, getting to your feet and taking a step away from the little section of seats before you were stopped.

"…You can sit there." He says, his voice quieter than before. you could probably tell that he was still standing by following the direction of your voice.

"What about you? I don't want to intrude." You responded politely as ever with the same disarming smile. It was the same way you treated him the first few times the two of you met. While he could appreciate the nostalgia, he doesn't want it.

"You're not intruding," he says, and he walked over to the same spot by the window he was in earlier and placed himself down, this time though, he placed Enten leaning against his chest as if he needed something to weigh himself down in the moment and not just leave.

There was a moment of silence - he could only imagine what you were thinking. Did you figure out who he was? Were you about to leave yourself and ignore him? Maybe you didn't want to sit near him at all. "…Okay." You responded, and sat in the seat opposite him, hands in your lap.

For a second he was almost startled that you chose to stay. He didn't want you to be near him, yet he didn't like the idea that you could sense something undesirable about him to not sit near him. There's a part of him that wants that image of his younger to maintain it's current status in your eyes even if he wouldn't benefit.

He nodded back, and turned his face to look out the window, gazing out at the view in front of him, watching the trees turn into rows and rows of houses. It didn't take him long for him to be bored of the sight and turned to you, glancing over for just a split moment. And in that tiny segment of time, he realised that you were also leaning your head towards the window, seemingly peering out the same view he was. "…I thought you were blind."

You laughed at him before you spoke, a short but real laugh, making him think that what he said was utterly ridiculous for a second. "That doesn't mean I can't enjoy the feeling of the sun on me. It's a nice day, today." You say, your soft laugh under your breath sounded like a wind chime to him. "It's rare for it to be this warm in this season. Besides, I'm not completely blind. I can somewhat see some coloured shapes and blurs. Though, even that is a little difficult sometimes."

He stares at you - perhaps you could feel the intensity of his stare as he did so, because you turned back to face him as you waited for what he wanted to say. He isn't quite sure how to phrase it for a moment, only examining your face carefully. He changes the question in his head a little to avoid suspicion."…Were you born blind?"

"Born? No, no." You shake your head as if it was obvious. He couldn't help but notice that you were slipping off that distant, but kind stranger act with him. "I've been like this for maybe two years? I turned blind after some sort of run in with a group of sorcerers."

"What."

"Ah, yeah! I know, right?" You say, nodding along to the sound of him gritting his teeth now - he was doing it quietly, but due to the fact you relied on your hearing more, you could pick up on his anger. "They were asking me for my money, and I told them I didn't have any change, so they blinded me with magic and then mugged me! Can you believe that? How rude! Just take one thing from me!"

Brushing away the fact you only considered them 'rude' and nothing else, he asked you another question. It seemed pretty typical of you to say, to be honest. "Do you have names?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "Apparently a little gang of amateurs, since they couldn't even blind me fully." And with a huff from that final sentence, you slumped back into your seat.

"…I see." He said, my eyebrows still crossed, and the frown still evident on his face, but there was no point trying to hide that from you. His fingers tightened around Enten, clicking it against his other sword as he thought about what he could have-

"…I'm not even that upset about losing my money or even being blinded. You know what's the worst part?" You say, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he turns his eyes back over to you instead of the sheath of his blade.

He honestly doesn't know what more could be worse for the average person than losing one of your senses even if it's not fully. "Go on."

"I lost this… Thing, I don't actually know what it is, but it's like… This metal thing." You sigh slightly, turning your face away from him as if in embarrassment. "Keycharm? I don't know, but I always kept it in my wallet, in the little bit where you keep your coins."

"…You kept a bit of scrap metal in your wallet." He states, trying to confirm what you were trying to tell him. Did you pick up your old habit of collecting shiny-looking objects again? How many times does he need to tell you that if they're outside, it's filthy.

"It's not scrap." You huffed out almost immediately, but took your time getting to the next part. "It's… a gift." You say, then finally take your hands out of your lap, and start trying to motion out some shape out with them. "It's supposed to be spherical I think. It's hollow and there was something inside of it, like a little metal ball, and there's a slit in it. It's really quite small, so it's actually quite impressive. It's important, you know? It was given to me by my best friend."

Oh.

"A bell." He states, the words coming out of his mouth. As if he has to defend the dignity of his younger self and his skill level at the time. Though, looking back, there was a lot of things wrong with the design of his creation. Not that it matters, since he wasn't at the skill level to produce the things that he wanted anyways.

"…A bell?" You echoed, your voice light as you repeated his words. Even if you couldn't see right now, he could feel your gaze on him. Even if you couldn't see him, he felt the urge to turn his eyes away from you, avoiding eye contact.

"A… faulty bell." He says, again, realising that he couldn't turn back now. Besides you described what he gave you, he could theoretically, be bright enough to have pieced together what you couldn't from your description. "No?" He adds, trying to pretend that he was still a stranger even though he almost (or maybe he already has) exposed his identity to you.

He had given it to you after you said you wanted to be alerted to his presence whenever he got close to you. You were always lost in your own thoughts, and he wasn't a particularly loud child, so he would often startle you when he got close and started speaking to you. Really, it was barely a problem. You weren't scared to death, and you always just jolted then returned to normal after milliseconds of realising who he was. Even so, he didn't like that you reacted so strongly even if it was for less than a second to him. The solution he came to as a child - you'd put a bell on him and so you'd be alerted to every step he makes. Looking back, he wonders why he even came to that conclusion. Oh right.

It's because you said that the neighbourhood cat had a bell on its collar, and now it couldn't catch any birds to eat.

Possibly funny looking back. Before he's even made a sword, he made a bell. A bell to alert his only friend of his age range. And they didn't even know what it was, even so, they kept it for so long.

"…I see." You say, and you put your hand on the side of your face, a fond smile coming onto your lips as you thought about his answer. He hopes that you don't remember it all that well, but it seems that his wish is a fruitless one judging by your expression and your words. "How sweet."

Good. It seems like they haven't realised that it's me.

…Have I really changed that much?

Not thinking much on his thoughts anymore, he replies back. "…Sure." He simply puts, wanting to press for more details, but at the same time not wanting to give himself away. He doesn't like sweets, but he'll tolerate being compared to it if it's from you.

You let out a low chuckle at his response, smile growing wider.

Then, the train slowed down to a halt, a recorded voice coming out of the speakers as it pulled into the station and opened it's doors for the passengers to get off, to which a couple of people stepped off and a couple more got on, filling up the seats on the train.

The smile on your face returned to your neutral response, as you listened again to the recording as it repeated once more.

"…This is me." You say, motioning to the train station. His eyes only flicker over to the building before landing back on you. "This has been good."

…We only together sat for one stop.

"…Mhm." He hums, but he hopes that you can hear the acknowledgment in his tone. Knowing you, you probably did pick up on it, and probably more he wasn't aware of. You said you did - he'll just have to trust that. He can relearn to.

"I hope we'll cross paths again sometime in the future," You say your voice having a happy lilt to it as you waved goodbye to him. (To which he gave you a nod. It's only later he remembers that you couldn't even see his non-verbal farewell.) "Chihiro."

After he nods, not thinking a thing of it since the words sounded so natural to him, only looking at your figure as you navigated the station you got at hazily before you seemed to find your way. He blinks once. Then again. Finally processing what you said as you were out of sight now, and the train started moving again.

…Wait.

[mikaela-granger]

The Long Wait (Season 2) Chapter 7

Quill

Fandom: Grimm

Pairing: Sean Renard/OFC

The Long Wait Masterlist

The next morning, Lorelei was on cloud nine. Whatever she was expecting to happen last night, was not what had actually happened. Sean Renard was her soulmate. The man she had been crushing on for months was hers, her soulmate. And he was as happy about it as she was. The pair had decided to keep it between them for the time being, giving them a chance to navigate their changing relationship in privacy.

Nick woke her up, asking Lorelei to meet with him and Hank for breakfast so they could answer any questions he may have.

“So, how many of these, what do you call them, are there?” Hank asked.

“Wesen. They call themselves wesen.” Nick replied. “I don’t know how many there are. And I’ve seen maybe two dozen, and I’ve read about a whole lot more.”

“What do you mean you read about them? You buy a book about this?”

“No.” Lorelei told him. “Books on wesen are not so easily acquired.”

Nick nodded. “Look, when our Aunt Marie came to town, she brought a bunch of stuff with her. And we sort of inherited it. Our ancestors have apparently been handing this stuff down for centuries.”

“And now you see them all the time?”

“Only when they’re upset, pissed off, you know emotional in some way.”

“Do they all know your one of these Grimms?”

“No. I think that they can sense it, when I recognise them, but I don’t know for sure. Our ancestor never wrote that down.”

“They were too busy chopping off heads.” Lorelei added.

Hank leant forward a little more. “Now, am I gonna be seeing them all the time, now too?” he asked, looking a little freaked out.

“I don’t think so.” Nick told him.  “But you never know, you just have to be ready.” Nick sighed. “You know, if you didn’t have a Grimm for a partner, I doubt you would have seen anything. But believe me, they’re out there.”

“But Hank, you’ve got remember that like regular people you have your bad wesen and your good wesen.” Lorelei told him. “Most are just trying to live their lives, same as us. Going to work, meeting their soulmates, having families, you know.”

Hank nodded, although he was still looking…wary. At that moment, both Nick and Hank’s phones rang.

“Duty calls.” Hank commented.

“Constantly.” Nick agreed.

They bid Lorelei goodbye and left, while she took the time to finish her coffee. As she was doing so, she received a call from Monroe.

“Hey!”

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Not too bad. Just had coffee with Nick and Hank. I’m not sure if Nick told you, but Hank is now officially in the know.”

“Oh, wow, really. Ok. Cool, cool, cool, cool.”

Lorelei frowned. Monroe seemed a little off. “What’s up?”

There was a pause. “I was wondering if you had time to make up some of your brownies. And drop them off to me later.”

Lorelei nodded. “Uh, yeah. I can do that. Special occasion?”

Monroe laughed nervously. “Uh, well, I hope so. They’re for Rosalee. I know she loves them. I’m actually planning on asking her to join me for a picnic. You know, as a date.”

Lorelei did a little happy dance. Finally. “Then I will make the best goddamn brownies ever. Did you want me to make anything else?”

 Later that evening she headed over to Monroe’s, brownies and even some chocolate chip cookies, in some Tupperware containers. “Thanks for this. I really appreciate it.” He said, as Lorelei handed over the baked goods.

“For you and Rosalee, anything.” Lorelei told him. “So, have you worked up the nerve to ask her yet?”

Monroe shook his head. “No, not yet. I don’t know why it’s so hard. But then again, what if she says no. What if I’ve been misreading her signals?”

Lorelei sighed and gently took his hands in her. “I promise, you are not misreading her signals. She is going to say yes. Anyone who has interacted with you two can see the chemistry between you.” Lorelei assured him. “Hell, Katie only met you two for a few hours and she could tell. Told me to keep her updated.”

Monroe blushed. “You really think so?” He asked, looking bashful.

Lorelei smiled at him. “I know so.” She grabbed his phone from the table and held it out to him. “Call her, now.”

“Geez, so bossy.” Monroe joked, taking the phone from her.

“I’ll be waiting in the living room.” Lorelei said, moving in that direction to give him some space.

She had just sat down when she heard a knock on the door. Lorelei contemplated answering, however Monroe came walking out. “Nick?” She heard Monroe say. “Where are you?” Lorelei watched as Monroe moved over to the door and opened it. And standing there was her brother. Monroe laughed. “Ha, guess we’re on the same wavelength.”

“Well, did you wanna?”

“No, you go first. You came all this way.”

Lorelei was really confused. Wasn’t Monroe calling Rosalee? Nick walked in the living room, not looking surprised to see Lorelei there. He glanced back at Monroe and sighed. “It’s Hank.”

“Oh yeah, uh Lorelei told me. Did you tell him about me?”

“Of course she did; no, I didn’t tell him about you. I didn’t want to tell him until I knew how he was going to react.”

“You ever think about how I might react.” Monroe said, looking a little peeved. “Well, maybe we should just have a little coming-out party, tell all your friends.” Nick stared at him in surprise. “Aw man. I’m sorry. Actually, you know this could be good. I think.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to tell you.” Nick admitted. He looked at Monroe. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Juliette called me.” Monroe said. Lorelei looked at him in surprise.

“Well, about what?”

“What do you think man? About you. She’s trying really hard to remember. And she asked me how you two got along. And I said you were happy. And I’m not sure that helped cause she kinda hung up. Right after asking me.” Monroe explained. Nick’s expression was not happy. “And now, I’m not sure that I should have told you that.”

“No, that’s ok.”

“She’s trying man. I just, I don’t know. I thought you should know.”

Lorelei’s heart broke for her brother. “Thanks.” He said quietly.

“Yeah, anytime.”

“Anyway. I gotta go.” Nick said. “See ya.”

Lorelei and Monroe watched as Nick left. Lorelei glanced at Monroe. “Oh my god, Hank knows.”

Lorelei raised an eyebrow. “I told you that.”

Monroe glanced at her. “I know, but Nick confirming it makes it seem more real.”

“If its any consolation, I think Hank is going to be a real asset to our little group.” Lorelei told him.

Monroe raised an eyebrow. “Eh, you could be right.” He said, although he didn’t look to sure.

“And what happened to calling Rosalee?”

Monroe seemed to have lost whatever nerve he had and no amounting of persuading by Lorelei could change his mind about calling Rosalee. Lorelei left feeling a little disappointed. She was happy, having found her person, she wanted her friends to be as well. As Lorelei got out of the car in the parking garage, she got a message from Katie asking if she would still be joining them for their hike this coming Sunday. It had been something that was arranged before their breakup, and considering they were on good terms Lorelei saw no reason not to go. She replied while waiting for elevator and had just slid her phone back into her pocket when she felt a hand drop on her shoulder. Moving quickly, Lorelei grabbed the hand, holding it she slipped under the offender’s arm and slammed the person into the wall, holding their arm against their back.

“It’s me, it’s me.”

Lorelei let the arm go quickly. “Oh my god, Sean. I am so sorry.”

Sean stepped away from the wall, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s ok. I didn’t exactly announce myself.” He commented. He looked down at her, a slight smile on his face. “Good to know you can protect yourself.”

Lorelei shrugged, feeling bad she had hurt her soulmate. “Yeah, Aunt Marie insisted I know. Sorry again.”

Sean chuckled. “No harm, no foul. I know not to sneak up on you again.” He said, as the elevator arrived, gesturing for her to enter first.

“How was your day?” Sean asked, pressing the buttons for their floors.

“Good. I had coffee with Nick and Hank this morning, spent most of the day cooking and baking, and then dropped some of that baking over at my friend Monroe’s house. You hungry? I made lasagna.”

“I could go for some lasagna.” Sean replied.

They both got off at her floor and walked to her apartment together. Lorelei let them both in and turned on the lights. Sean closed the door behind them and as Lorelei went to walk further in, he stopped her, pulling her into him as he leant down and kissed her. Lorelei sighed in contentment, her arms wrapping around his neck. When they pulled apart, Sean smiled down at her. “Hi.”

Lorelei returned the smile. “Hi. How was your day?”

“Uneventful.” He said, giving her another kiss before letting her go. Lorelei walked into the kitchen, dropping her keys and phone on the bench as she headed to the fridge. Sean sat at the kitchen island, as Molly came over to say hi.

“Well, that’s good.” Lorelei told him, as she placed the lasagna in the microwave to heat it up. “Drink?”

Sean looked up from where he was patting Molly. “Water, please.” Daisy entered the kitchen, meowing loudly. “Sounds like someone is hungry.”

Lorelei scoffed. “She is always hungry. And a liar, I already fed her dinner. She’s just begging. I swear she is worse than the dog.”

Sean laughed. “Any plans for tomorrow?”

Lorelei handed him his water. “I’m meal prepping some food before school starts back. The first few weeks are always hectic. Other than that, just making sure I have everything in order.”

Sean nodded, as Molly wondered off, having greeted their guest and thankfully Daisy followed. They continued making light conversation as Lorelei served up dinner. It was nice how domestic it felt. Eventually Sean headed home, but not before giving Lorelei a breathtaking kiss. “I’ll see you later.” He said, before leaving for the night.

The next day Lorelei was just pulling a casserole out of the oven when her phone rang. Placing it on the bench, she smiled when she saw it was Monroe. “Hey, don’t tell me you chickened out again.”

“Lorelei. You need to get to the shop now. Rosalee is sick and I need your help.” Monroe sounded panicked.

“I’m on my way.” Lorelei said. She quickly put the casserole back into the oven, turning it off before grabbing her jacket, boots, phone and purse.

Lorelei got to the spice shop in record time and Monroe let her in. “What exactly is going on?” She asked him in concern. “Where is Rosalee?”

He gestured to the side room where Rosalee was on the loveseat covered in a blanket. “A picnic, why did I have to choose a picnic?” He said, before walking over to the counter. “We were at the park, everything was great, and then this guy came out and he looked terrible. He attacked us and we ran. But he scratched Rosalee and now she’s infected.”

“Monroe, infected with what?”

“Fluvus Pestilentia.”

Lorelei’s eyebrows shot up. “The yellow plague? I remember reading about that.”

“Yeah, and Rosalee is too sick to make up the treatment. I need you to help me. I know she’s been teaching you.”

He handed her a book, and Lorelei started reading it as he moved around, grabbing ingredients. The pair worked together to make the treatment. Monroe kept calling out to Rosalee as they worked, keeping her updated, trying to be positive despite the fact it was obvious that he was panicking. At one point he knocked over a bottle, which broke on the floor. Cursing, Monroe bent down to scrape up the remains of the ingredient. As he did, Rosalee rolled off the loveseat violently, knocking down a lamp, as the front door opened. Nick and Hank entered, dragging in a man.

“Hey, hey, that’s the guy we saw at the park!” Monroe exclaimed. “He came right at me, Nick.” He stood up with some of the salvaged ingredient. “Listen, Rosalee’s got it too. I think he must’ve scratched her, or something.”

Nick looked up from where he was knelt beside the man they brought in. “Rosalee’s sick?” he asked in concern.

“Rosalee’s one?” Hank asked.

“Yeah, she’s a…she’s a fuschbau.”

Hank looked up at Monroe. “And Monroe’s one?”

“Yeah, uh, a blutbad here. Can we get into this later?” Monroe asked, giving Hank a brief wave, as he glanced at Nick. “I mean, welcome aboard, Hank. You know, I’m glad we don’t have to beat around the bush anymore…It’s just Rosalee’s in the other room, ok? And I’m just about to mix this stuff.”

“Ok, how much longer until you’re going to be ready?” Nick asked Monroe, as the unidentified man started waking up.

“Hey, hey, hey. We’re gonna…we have to treat this guy.” Hank said.

There was a loud crash and Rosalee cried out in pain. “Rosalee!” Monroe called, moving into the side room. Lorelei took over for him as he went to check on her. As he and Nick went to check, the unidentified man started to become agitated, and Hank tried holding him down.

“Oh man, she’s gone.” Lorelei heard Monroe say.

A moment later, Monroe was back in the main shop. “Where’s Rosalee?”

“She’s gone. Nick’s gone to find her.” Monroe said, returning to her side and taking over again.

Hank was struggling. “Hurry, hurry, I can’t keep this guy down.” Lorelei rushed over to help Hank, while Monroe finished up the treatment.

“Ok, ok, we just got to get a couple of sips of this stuff into him.” Monroe said, as the man wretched his arm from Lorelei’s grasp and backhanded her.

“Motherfucker.” She cried, grabbing his arm and forcing it back to the ground.

“You alright?” Hank asked and Lorelei nodded.

Monroe came over with the treatment, trying to give it to the man who knocked it away. Hank ended up handcuffing the guy before Monroe poured some into his mouth. Immediately the man started to calm down. “Alright, I think that should do it.” Monroe commented.

“Lorelei, you’re bleeding.” Hank pointed out and Lorelei gently touched her lip, wincing in pain as she felt dampness on her fingers.

“Eh, I have had worse.” Lorelei remarked, as the door burst open, and Nick came in carrying Rosalee.

“Oh my god Nick, did you have to kill her?” Monroe yelled at him.

Nick gave Monroe a strange look. “No, she’s unconscious. Get the stuff!”

Nick carried Rosalee into the side room, laying her back down on the loveseat while Monroe grabbed the treatment. However, clearly Monroe was more affected by everything than he realised, as his hands were shaking. Hank gently touched Monroe’s arm. “Here, let me do it.” He told him gently. Monroe looked at him in surprise.

“It’s a…that’s a good idea, thank you.” Monroe said, as Hank poured the remainder of the treatment into a smaller cup.

“Come on, hurry up.” Nick yelled from the other room. The three of them hurried into the side room, and Hank instructed Nick to hold Rosalee’s mouth open so he could pour the treatment into her mouth.

Monroe, Lorelei, Nick and Hank waited around to make sure that Rosalee and the park ranger, Gilko got better. Monroe made some tea, and as he passed Gilko he commented on how much better he looked. He handed the tea out. Lorelei went to take a sip but winced as soon as the cup touched her lip. She put the cup down and returned the icepack she had, to her lip.

“Well. As long as we’re, uh, letting the blutbad out of the bag, so to speak.” Monroe said, turning to face Hank. “I was the one who hit you in the park, that day.”

“What?” Hank asked, looking confused.

“You know, the Hunt for Bigfoot Day.”

Hank glanced at Nick, who couldn’t quite hide the smirk on his face. “It’s true. It was him.”

Monroe crossed his arms. “I didn’t mean to; it’s just Larry was a really good friend of mine and…” He glanced to the side room before looking back at Hank. “More later.” He said before walking off to check on Rosalee.

Hank watched him, still looking a little confused. Lorelei reached over and gave him a pat on the leg. “Give us a look.” Nick said, referring to her lip. Lorelei removed the icepack. Nick took her chin in his hand and looked her over. “He got ya good, didn’t he?”

“Oh yeah. I will not be able to hide that. Good thing I got back into gymnastics.”

“What’s that got to do with it?” Hank asked, again, looking confused. Although, Nick did as well.

“Apart from keeping me active and being helpful with my fighting skills. It can also be used to explain away most injuries.” Lorelei explained. “For example, I face planted the vault. It was so embarrassing. Once my coach made sure I was alright, he laughed his ass off.”

Hank and Nick looked impressed. “That was really believable. If I didn’t know any better, I’d buy it.” Hank said.

“Should I be concerned by how easy it is for you to lie?” Nick asked, raising an eyebrow.

The next morning, Lorelei got to the put that lie to the test, against someone who may be harder to fool.  She ran into Sean in the elevator as they both left for the day. Sean had noticed straight away and gentle grasped her chin. His gaze burning with hidden fury as he asked who did it.

“It’s embarrassing.” Lorelei told him. “I went to the gym yesterday, and I…um…face planted into the vault.”

“Pardon?”

“I was running to it, and I dove a little too early, and…” She mimicked her face driving into it with her hand. “Straight into the side.” Sean winced a little in empathy. Lorelei sighed and shrugged. “The hazards of gymnastics.”

“Hmm, well try to be more careful.” He said, giving her look. Lorelei nodded. Before they reached the parking garage, he gave her a gentle peck, on the uninjured side. They exited the elevator and went their separate ways.

Well, he seemed to buy that. Lorelei thought to herself, as she got into her car.

Next Part

Taglist: @zoexme

Banner by @cafekitsune

[darkhorse-javert]

Fluff-tober Day 20 (alternate);Fandom Crossover

A crossover that popped into my head the very first time i watched Foyle's War episode 'Invasion'.

To Americans, forgive me for playing a little fast and loose with the timline, I know War Artists weren't a thing until 1943, but the idea is too good to pass up.

Not a shipping fic between the leadscpurely friendship- Andrew will get a mention if I extend this. @flufftober

March 1942

“Yeah, like broads in uniform.” The fresh, pushy young man who'd been at the station said, as though the whole thing was a great farce

Sam barely has time to register the words being spoken, before another American voice snapped across the room

“Oi, you shut it Farnetti! Ladies present!” The speakeris just in front of her, springing to his feet with the force of his words. Then just as quickly, the skinny man quickly dips his head in apology to Mr Foyle and sits back down in his seat.

“Well -yes- “ Mr Foyle carries on in his his talk with only the lightest of stumbles, given the gravity of the interruption. Rather than listening Sam instead took time to study her self-appointed defender. His chest was heaving up and down, and it wasn't just anger making it so, she could hear an odd rattling and wheeze with each breath. And he really was skinny, not just thin, there was no breadth to the body under the uniform jacket, it looked two sizes too big on him- at the very least.

She didn't know anything of the American Military requirements for their men, but looking across the rows of green-khaki backs, this man stood out like a sore thumb physically. I don't like the sound of that breathing, and I' not even officially trained, surely he wouldn't have passed a medical to be a soldier.

Not that, Samnotes as the young man promptly tensed to spring at another apparently crude remark from 'Farnetti', he lacks any of the necessary courage for a fight.

Everyone applauds Mr Foyle, then the gathering begins to splinter, some of the men putting chairs away, others making quick steps towards the next room, with their apparent friends.

The young skinny man shook his head, apparently at the world and turned in his seat, giving her a bashful but sweet smile

“Miss, I apologise for those comments from the other men- some of them haven't the manners they were born with.” He holds out a hand over the back of the chair

“Steven Rogers, although I go by Steve.”

She shakes it warmly, and manners too “Samantha Stewart”

He glances along the room “There's a spread of food in the next hall, if you are hungry.

She tries not to immediate look over in the direction, but is pretty sure her eyes give her away “I am rather hungry.”

Rogers – Steve- rises from his chair and makes an effort to move it the little way to the wall, out of the way. As she stands and does the same it merely confirms what she was already guessing. The young man is even shorter than her, shorter even than she'd be in her socks.

He doesn't appear to notice, or at least doesn't remark on her expression, instead taking a few steps across the room, before turning back to her,

“It's just through here.”

He sets off at a brisk pace, but she shortens her stride to keep with him, not accidentally overtake and make him hurry further. At least she does until she sees the table, absolutely laden with things. She stops, looking back and forth along the spread of food.

There's a soft, but not unkind chuckle at her elbow, and looks down to a warm smile, “Rather more than you're used to in Blighty?”

“Rather.” I want to try it all, but where to even start? I'm not sure I even recognise some of it

He steps forward again, “Grab a plate and fill up before the other greedy mugs get near, or it will be crumbs, just start at one end and pick things until you get to the other, Miss Stewart.”

Has Mr Foyle seen this? She looks around for him, spots him in conversation with the American Captain, Keiffer, apparently being shown something in a leather wallet. She follows Steve Roger's- lead, collecting a plate and a fork from the stacks, looking and listening as he sotto-voce, identifies some of the dishes for her; baloney, hamburger.

“If you don't mind me asking-” she asks between mouthfuls of food as they stand in a corner eating “You don't look much like a soldier.” She slightly gestures with her fork at the others around them.

Rogers doesn't take offence, or doesn't seem to, “I'm not -failed my medical three times when I tried, even under false names.” He shifts his fork to his plate hand and reaches up to touch his ear, which, Sam only now notices, has a pencil tucked behind it, and stands more stiffly “Steven G. Rogers, Official United States War Artist, now attached to the Engineer Battalion posted in Southern England.” He eases his posture, then dips in his pocket “Oh, here. “ He brings out a square of paper

Sam takes it and unfolds it to reveal Mr Foyle, mid flow in his speech, as captured on paper. She looks between the drawing and the artist.

“Only a rough sketch for now.” He says abashedly, not quite looking at her, “I could do better with more time.”-

----

A/N I might actually start a whole series based on this idea of ., let me know if you'd like it. Pic done by me in Word using a screen cap and the 'Photocopy' picture setting, gives you an idea.

[veraynes-blog]

Hi! 28, 41 and 49? 👀

28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who?

No, I've never worked with a beta before, and none of my irl friends are into fandom so there's no point sharing fics with them. (Boyfriend did recently stumble on my tumblr and AO3 though, which gave me conniptions ngl. 😐)

I think that's why I'm always so chatty in comments and asks! You guys are my only fandom interaction, I need the engagement in my enclosure! 😅

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

Okay, I don't think this is a style of writing I'll ever be able to successfully imitate, but I think it's absolutely stunning - Salinity (And Other Measurements of Brackish Water) by drawlight. It's a Good Omens fic with just beautiful, delicate, stream-of-consciousness prose that make my heart ache in the best way. All drawlight's works are similarly gorgeous, but that was the one I first came across and which stuck with me ever since. 💕

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

I'm currently continuing work on my John Smith/Simm!Master AU. It's up to 16k now! 😁 I can't decide what part would be best to share, so here's a few lines I thought were cool about the Master encountering John's Book of Impossible Things:

The Master opened the first page of the notebook, blinking as he was met with a few messy sketches. They weren't particularly coherent, so he flipped to the next page. More sketches, a few scrawled sentences. Among outlines of shapes that didn't quite make sense, the Master thought he recognised roughly placed star constellations, notes of what might have been coordinates. He kept going, moving through the book. With each page, the drawn images became bolder, more detailed. Here a landscape that very clearly depicted nowhere on Earth. Here a dalek's detailed metal shell. Here a botched diagram of the Acteon Galaxy. A mathematic equation that trailed off into nonsense, with the lower half of the page obliterated by a furious scribble and spilled ink. It was an ugly collection, the Master decided. Knowledge butchered on every page. A Time Lord's vast experience reduced to childish scrawl.

"They're just… flights of fancy, as I said." John watched self-consciously as the Master paged through the book. "Dreams I have, or-or waking dreams, sometimes. Silly, really."

The written sections were becoming longer, less like hasty notes in the margin and more like samples of prose, or perhaps the diary entries the Master had first supposed. I dreamed, each one began, like some desperate disclaimer. The Master ran his finger over the words, feeling where they'd been pressed too harshly into the paper.

"Just stories," John repeated faintly.

Thanks for asking! 🥰

[ltcolonelcarter]

1 7 21 for the writer asks :•)

I am kissing your face gently

1. Who is your favourite character to write for and is it the easiest character to write for?

sigh I think I’m going to have to say sixty, and yes, to a degree: his stock fandom personality is a breeze, for the most part, but putting him in situations wildly different from his norm makes him a lot harder to write. some nonsense in a question of time gets pretty far outside canon depictions of sixty, and it’s difficult to maintain a recognisable personality while also showing him in new situations

also Hank is my favourite too. I adore that stupid grumpy old man.

How do you wit your fics? What do you look for in your edits?

ohhh I don’t think I’m especially good at editing, but I do a few passes in a few different ways: first is boring spelling/grammar nonsense, but also a sweep for awkward phrasing, word repetition, clunky sentence construction. I focus a lot on “flow” of sentences so I tend to swap out synonyms in this stage a lot. Next sweep is for tense (I default to third person past, but more recently I’ve been trialling present) and for things like passive voice, which I’m horrendous for overusing.

I whack it through prowritingaid to do a bit more work on grammar, to spot anything I missed, and then to work on stuff like adverbs etc. usually I use it as a guide rather than a rule book, bc I love breaking writing rules.

Last sweep is a pass for general readability. It should, by this point, read roughly the way I want, so when I’m not distracted by grammar/paragraphing I can read for theme/tone/order of events etc. then when I’m sick of it I hit post✨

21. Ohhh I’m picking 17 for my free answer - upcoming WIPs. I’ll only tell you about one: it’s nines focused, he’s very 😏 frustrated. I haven’t written for him properly before and I’m thrilled about it honestly. I’m working on a bunch of other in progress stuff too, but I’ll keep the details on those quiet… for now

send me a fanfic ask

[nym-wibbly]

Fanfic evolution, history, context, noodling, AUs and the Omegaverse

I've had a lousy few health days and ended up listening to a long, slow-burn, characterisation-rich Omegaverse fanfic in between sleeps. I've wanted to get my head properly around the A/B/O AU concept for ages (I'm feeling my fannish-elder age and thinking a lot about our evolution as a creative community after we got online, about the gamechangers like Buffy, Harry Potter, X-Files, and Supernatural) but never found one that was this much in-character to keep me engaged for the duration of a long read. I've only finished reading smutty shorts before.

I mean, I'm so broad-minded about fictional content that I have trouble fitting my mind inside my actual skull (my joke excuse for chronic migraine!), but I'm basically here to read about the characters I already love being recognisably themselves in some way, even in the most extreme AU setting. I wander off quickly with a 'meh' if that's missing, as I tend to do with original works/characters unless the writing is next-level extraordinary (Wolf Hall, Dresden Files, Titus Groan/Gormenghast, most of Terry Pratchett) and don't have two fucks to rub together about the kink side of fanfiction. I'll read it if it's there in an otherwise engaging piece, but it's never a draw for me.

I'm trying not to get all analytical until I finish hearing/reading this fanfic, but my brain-spider's groping as far back as Kirk/Spock and Amok Time for context and history, here. And I wouldn't say the same about mpreg, which I've tended to view as an evolution of smarm (The Sentinel fandom's 1990s flavour of it in particular) and soft whump, more than of graphic, romantic slash like K/S - yet I thought all this time that mpreg and the Omegaverse shared a common ancestry. Innteresssting.

I had the vague thought as I listened that some of the best AU fanfic I ever consumed came from the Star Wars: TPM/Jedi Apprentice fandom - the Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan pairing stuff on the Master Apprentice mailing list and archive. Soaring AUs and worldbuilding, yet deeply grounded in what little we then knew of those two characters. And there was so little to go on - I mean, Lucas' prequels were, to put it politely, heavily stylised rather than emotionally deep. That fandom had epic AU/AR fics that took my breath away with their character-richness, with their emotional beats, and had me going, "How?!?!" with writerly awe at a time when I was no slouch myself in the writing department. I need to find the energy to get myself up to date with the Disney!Star Wars content explosion and pay another visit.

[sidespart]

Sanders Sides is pretty much the only fandom I'm in right now, so that please?

Any excuse to draw my boy Roman is appreciated ❤️❤️

Send me a fandom and I’ll sketch my favourite character (/ guess which is my fave character if idk the fandom)

[luvfae]

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR HENDERSON STORY!

Can I request 1 and 24 from Comedy; and 12, 17, and 22 from Romance?

And can you have one of the jock flirt and get real handsy with the reader in front of Eddie

MY FAVOURITE

HENDERSON

PART EIGHTEEN

fandom: stranger things

parings: eddie x f henderson reader

warnings: swearing, sexual harassment, violence

note: ive already used most of these prompts for this series, so i changed them up a little! <3

1: “…so, is that a yes?”

24: “excuse me, i have a scene to cause.”

12: “can i kiss you?”

17: “i’ll marry you one day, that’s a promise.” > “we’ll be married one day, just like I promised.

22: “just talk to her already instead of gawking over her like a creep!” > “you should go over there, talk to her, instead of standing over here gawking at her.”

masterlist

It wasn’t often that you saw Eddie at a basketball game, in fact this was the first time you had ever spotted him sitting on the bleachers, your brother by his side.

So you put on the performance of your life, like you were the star of the show tonight. Even your cheer captain commented on your moves.

“You should be that enthusiastic more often, Y/N. You know what, next routine i’ll have you front and centre, so you better perform your little heart out,” she said.

The basketball team won and once again, you performed as if it was your last performance ever. As if this performance was going to cure cancer. And Eddie’s attention was on you, the way your hips moved, the pom pom’s in your hands, the huge cheerleader mandate grin on your face, pearly whites shining underneath the lights of the basketball court. Your eyes never left him.

But Eddie wasn’t the only male who had their eyes on you and once the game was over and it was time to celebrate with your squad, the basketball team and the entire school. One of the players, who you recognised quite well, someone you had known your entire high school career, Tony, approached you.

“Your moves were fire tonight, Y/N,” Tony said, arm wrapping around your shoulder.

You chuckled, looking up at him. “Thanks,” you replied, shrugging him off. He grinned at you, hands slipping down to your hips as you pulled your jacket over your shoulders. You furrowed your eyebrows, slipping away from him. “What are you doing?” You asked.

Sure, you and Tony were friends, you had been for as long as you could remember, but not once had he touched you like that. Arms across your shoulders, sure, he did that with almost every cheerleader, but hands on the waist. Awkward, to say the least.

“You really grabbed my attention,” he shrugged, standing behind you again. “Like really, grabbed it,” he whispered into your ear, pushing his crotch into your ass.

You gasped at the feeling of his boner pushed against you. “Tony!” You exclaimed, skin heating up, yet again moving away from him. You turned to face him, hands crossing over your chest.

Eddie watched the scene from afar, he was seeing red, watching another guy get a little too handsy with you. Dustin appeared beside Eddie, following his gaze onto you and Tony.

“She’s clearly not into it,” Dustin said, sticking up for you. “You can tell by her body language that she’s uncomfortable.”

Eddie hummed, narrowing his eyes at Tony. He wasn’t mad at you, how could he be? He had watched you push Tony away 3 times now.

“You should go over there, talk to her, instead of standing over here gawking at her,” Lucas said. “Tony is a pussy, he won’t do shit anyways,” Lucas shrugged. He didn’t know Tony that well, he had only spoken to him a few times at practice, but he knew him enough to know that if it came down to it Tony would back off in a fight. He was all talk no action.

“I don’t want to embarrass her,” Eddie shrugged.

“Embarrass her?” Dustin scoffed. “She’s being felt up by a guy right now, she needs your help.”

Tony’s hand were on your hips again, pulling you towards him. You pushed at his chest, trying to get him off of you. “Tony c’mon,” you said, glaring up at him. “Let me go.”

“Excuse me, I have a scene to cause,” Eddie said, stalking over to you and Tony.

“Come back to my place,” Tony smirked, clearly not reading the room.

“No, I don’t want too,” you said.

“Why not?” He chuckled, ignoring your struggle to be free from his grip. “Don’t you wanna be alone with me? That’s fine, I know a bunch of guys who’d be down for a gang bang.”

“She said she doesn’t want too, asshole,” Eddie said. You heard his voice and instantly felt relief, closing your eyes and letting out a breath as Tony finally let you go.

Tony laughed at Eddie, looking him up at down. “And who the hell are you to be talking to me, freak?” Tony asked, smirking hard at Eddie.

Eddie wanted to punch the look right off his face.

“Don’t be horrible, Tony…” you muttered.

“Shut up, slut!” Tony snapped. You gasped at his words, hands flying to cover your mouth. Never in you entire years of knowing this guy had you heard him say something so horrible about you. “Oh don’t act all surprised, Y/N. Everybody knows it’s the truth, that’s probably why Munson is here trying to act all hero, because he knows if he tries hard enough, shows you even an ounce of affection, that you’ll be all over his dick.”

“What is wrong with you?” Eddie asked, glaring at him. But before Tony could reply a fist connected with his cheek. Eddie’s eyes widened watching as you shook your hand, biting your bottom lip to mask your pain.

Tony was hunched over, his hand holding his now reddened cheek from where you had punched him. “What the fuck, Henderson?” Tony asked, death glaring you.

“Oh don’t act all surprised, Tony,” you said mocking his words from earlier. “Everyone will now know you as the pussy who got hit by a girl. How embarrassing,” you teased, motioning to all the eyes that had landed on the scene.

Tony looked around, glaring at you one final time before stalking off.

“Fuck that hurt,” you hissed, staring down at your swollen knuckles. “Shit, I hope this doesn’t ruin my chances of a scholarship.”

“A guy just sexually harassed you and you’re still worried about that damn scholarship?” Eddie asked.

“Y/N!” Dustin yelled, running over to you. Lucas and Mike following after him. “That was so badass,” Dustin smiled.

“Yeah, badass,” Lucas grinned up at you.

“Can we just get the hell out of here?” You asked. The four boys nodded, following you off of the court and out into the cold night, heading towards Eddie’s van so he could drive all of you home.

“How’s your hand?” Eddie asked as the pair of you slowly trailed behind the three kids.

“Fucking hurts,” you mumbled, letting him grab your hand to inspect your knuckles. “I don’t know why but I just never thought punching someone would actually hurt your hand.”

Eddie laughed at you. “It’ll bruise and then it’ll be fine, as if it never happened,” Eddie shrugged, dropping your hand.

“Thanks for coming to my aid,” you smiled at him.

“Of course, can’t have other guys feeling up my girl,” Eddie said. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you or anything.”

“No, you didn’t,” you said. “It was sweet, just proving that one day you’ll be a great boyfriend.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a great husband,” Eddie said. “Y’know, considering we’ll be married one day, just like I promised.”

“God, one thing at a time Eddie,” you grinned as you reached his van. Dustin, Lucas and Mike already sitting inside waiting for the two of you.

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie asked.

You glanced around, nobody was in sight. “As long as no one catches us,” you smiled.

“…so, is that a yes?”

“Yes, Munson, but make it quick. I’ve already drawn enough attention to myself for one night,” you said as he pulled you close, hands on your cheeks. Eddie connected both of your lips for a sweet short kiss.

You heard Dustin, Lucas and Mike making gagging noises in the backseat of Eddie’s van and when you pulled away Eddie was flipping the three of them off.

© luvfae 2022

[peaceisadirtyword]

German Vikings Con🫶🏼

I wasn’t going to post these here because I don’t like how I look but I just love these pictures too much🥹❤️ Not only I was lucky enough to see Alex again, but I also met Jordan and he was the sweetest🥰

I first met Jordan for his autograph. I took my favourite pic of Ubbe so he could sign it and he was so sweet and nice to me! His smile was amazing😭 he asked me if he’d see me again and I said yes, so when I came to his photo op he was like “hello love! I was missing you” and I nearly cried (hence my face in the pic, because he hugged me and I was freaking out). I saw him a few times during the convention, and he was always smiling and being absolutely perfect and I just love him even more now❤️

(I’ll leave this pic here even though the quality is terrible because I want you guys to appreciate his smile🥲)

Alex was, as always, the main character of the story of my life. He recognised me (the memory that man has) and he gave me an amazing hug during the photo op. He always had a smile for me🫶🏼 the pic with him is absolutely perfect even though my face kind of ruins it but I don’t really care! During the Meet&Greet he was so close and open with us! And he talks a lot🥹 I never thought I’d meet someone that talks as much as I do, so it’s very nice. He described himself as a siberian husky and I can’t agree more with that😭❤️ I had some gifts for him for the autograph, so I couldn’t talk that much with him bc I had some autographs for other people :( but that’s okay because I’m seeing him again very soon🫶🏼 he greeted me with a “hey gorgeous” and a soft smile, he hugged me and I made him laugh, which is like the biggest accomplishment of my entire life. He was a delight, and I can’t wait to see him again🥰

I also had the chance to talk to Alexander. He was also very nice even though we all could see he was a bit tired (he spent days giving concerts around Germany🥺). When I thanked him for coming, he gave me the biggest smile and thanked me. He’s amazing, I’ve seen him in many projects besides Vikings since I was little so it was a dream getting to talk to him!

I saw Ida too! She’s the sweetest, and so cute🥺 also Ragga, who is even more beautiful in person! And Jasper, who was very nice to me even though we didn’t have much time! I would have loved to interact with more of the guests, especially John Kavanagh because both my mum and I are huge fans of his work, but unfortunately there wasn’t much time and I had a tight budget😅

It was an exhausting but amazing day. I also got to meet people I’ve been taking to for years and that became friends to me and that was fantastic too! I loved spending an entire day surrounded by people that love the same things I do. It’s like therapy❤️ I loved every single minute of it, even the stressful parts😂 they’re always worth it.

Next week I’ll travel to Paris to see Alex again and to finally meet my beloved Marco🫶🏼 I can’t even explain how thankful and excited I am when I think about it. The convention is one day before my birthday so I also get to spend my birthday in Paris with my family (I have family in France I haven’t seen in a while bc of the pandemic💔). It’s perfect🫶🏼

If you’ve read all of this, thank you❤️ I truly hope every single person in this fandom has the chance to enjoy days like this one. We deserve it🥰 and it helps to cope with reality when life becomes too much💖

[procrastinatorimagines]

Trapped

Fandom: Chicago PD

Series: Trapped

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 (FINAL)

Link/prequel to this series and this series respectively

Pairing/s: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warning/s: bomb/explosion

Word Count: 991

Summary: Imagine getting stuck under the rubble with Jay when a bomb goes off at Med, with a second one ready to detonate

Masterlist

It started off as a normal day at Med. You'd been in Chicago for the better part of 10 years, and had gone from a fresh faced and wide eyed Med student to the ED psychiatrist you were today.

So when Dr Charles had had to take leave for a shift due to threats from a patient and a near assault, there was no one he trusted more to cover than you, and you were more than happy to accept.

It was a slow day so far, mercifully, as the generator had been on the fritz, meaning most none critical patients were being re-routed to other hospitals until the issue was resolved. You were taking a break from rounds in the ED when the handyman finally arrived. He'd been in before for various odd jobs so you waved as he passed.

"Morning," he greeted both of you, clearly having a good day.

You and Will were chatting at the nurses station when he approached. "Here for the generator?" You asked with a smile, as he held up his bag of tools and nodded.

"Elevator's at the end of the hall," Will began but he shook his head and held out his free hand.

"You know the way by now?" You laughed and he nodded.

"I could do it in my sleep," he joked, before heading off towards the end of the corridor.

"You heading to Molly's later?" Will asked, grabbing the chart he'd been waiting for from Maggie.

"Probably, depends how the rest of the day goes," you replied, waving him off to his patient just as Intelligence headed in through main doors.

Will was half way to his bay when he say his brother, Jay, give him a brief gesture with his head. You shared a puzzled look with Will, but he followed Jay and Voight as they headed in the direction of Goodwin's office.

The others remained around the ED, a couple outside. You spotted Burgess doing a lap of the ED.

"Kim," you called as you approached, giving her pause, "what's going on?"

You knew something was up, and usually you were in the loop about this kind of thing. Sure, you weren't police, but you'd consulted on enough cases with the unit to have earned their trust, taken a bullet for it too.

"Hopefully nothing," Kim told you gravely, the look on her face telling you she didn't have high hopes.

Before you could ask more, Will, Jay, Voight and Goodwin entered the floor, faces equally grave.

"Can I have your attention everyone!" She called, and you couldn't help but notice Kim's worried inhale next to you. "Now, I don't want to alarm anyone, but we need to begin an evacuation of the hospital immediately, start bringing out all the mobile patients first and begin immediate transfer of those in critical condition. This is not a drill."

Shit, you thought, trying to catch Will or Jay's eyes, but they were deep in conversation. Kim gave your arm a squeeze, "you should clear out," she advised before heading off to where Adam was calling her for help with crowd control.

There was only one reason for an evacuation like this, a bomb.

Will broke off from Jay to help secure his patients, so you made a beeline for him. "Jay, hey, wait up," you skipped a few steps as he started to head towards the doors, calling him back.

"Y/N, you should get out of here," Jay said, turning to face you.

"Yeah, so I've been told," you replied, earning an eye roll that you'd come to recognise as affectionate from members of Intelligence when you didn't listen to a word they had to say.

"What's up?" He asked, noticing the resolve on your face.

"We've been having generator issues all day, powers been on and off," you began to explain.

"We know, Goodwin told us," Jay said but you shook your head.

"No, Jay, the handyman arrived just before you guys did, he's down there now," you elaborated, watching as he sighed.

"Damn okay, you think he could be the bomber?" Jay confirmed, mind whirling but you immediately shook your head.

"No, he's our usual guy, Carl, always fixing stuff down there," you told him, "but he won't know about the evacuation."

Jay knew where you were going with this. "Y/N, we need to wait for the bomb squad to go down there okay, or fire at least," he glanced at his watch and you began to understand, this wasn't just a threat, they knew when the bomb might go off.

"How long do we have?" You asked, already glancing back at the doors to the stairwell.

"If it's real, probably not long but Y/N-" Jay began but you were already turning from him, "Y/N!"

"No time Jay," you said as he grabbed your forearm, "you don't know for sure when this thing could go, every second counts."

Pulling from his grasp you power walked to the stairs, hearing him grumble before begrudgingly following you down.

You wished he hadn't followed, but you figured he might. You'd been closer in the past, when he was with Lindsay, who'd brought you into Intelligence to help on cases in the first place alongside Antonio. Although you wouldn't call the relationship you had now particularly close, you trusted each other's instincts and had each others backs, as you always had.

So you both raced down the stairs to the generator room in the sublevel basement, running now as you saw the entrance.

You were just about to reach the door, Jay on your heels, when your world rocked. The bomb had detonated just as you were holding out your hand to the handle, the blast from within the room knocking you backwards towards Jay and sending you both sprawling across the floor.

The ground shook, the walls crumbled and the ceiling began to crack, then, you were plunged into darkness.

[coughdontfeelwellcough]

So I haven’t been able to get this prompt by @perfectpaperbluebirds out of my head since they posted it and so this ridiculous thing was born. I hope you like it! 

Fandom: Any, I didn’t use any names so imagine whoever! 

Words: 3006... I got a little carried away. 

I was running late, the last band was just finishing up as I took my seat. I’d been looking forward to seeing my favourite band for months and was so happy to see they’d been added to the line up of a nearby show. It wasn’t long before the lights went off and the crowd screamed. I got to my feet ready to dance but as the band entered the stage I noticed something wrong, the lead singer wasn’t as excited or energetic as he usually was. He waved at the crowd and as he started to sing I realised what the problem was, his voice sounded a little hoarse and he had to turn away to cough more than once through the song, he was sick. When the song was over the lead guitarist greeted the crowd instead of the singer.

“You’ll have to forgive our frontman, he’s feeling a bit under the weather today.”

There was an awh from the crowd and I felt bad for him, even from my seat I could see he looked pale and tired. 

“I’ll still play better than you,” the front man tried to tease but it only made him cough again. 

“Just don’t die, I’m way too lazy to find a new lead singer,” the guitarist joked and the crowd laughed but I couldn’t take my eyes off the front man. He was sweaty and pale, and though he was playing his guitar just fine I could see he was struggling. 

They continued the set but with every song the back up singers were doing more and more work as the front man failed to keep up. He couldn’t seem to go long without coughing and at one point he had to get a tissue out of his pocket to blow his nose. After the fourth song he disappeared off stage for a few minutes and came back looking worse for wear. 

“Sorry guys, I think that’s going to be it for me tonight,” his voice was congested and almost gone. I felt really sorry for him, he sounded so sad not to be able to continue when he was so obviously ill. 

“Don’t worry,” the guitarist piped up. “We can play just fine without him, isn’t that right?” 

The crowd cheered and so the next song started as the singer departed the stage with a little wave and a cough.

I decided to take the moment to go to the bathroom, I’d been in such a rush to get to my seat I hadn’t had a chance to go beforehand. It was quiet in the corridor and I just went through the first door I found until I got to the toilet. I could still hear the music playing in the background but I couldn’t help wondering how the poor front man was doing, he did look miserable. I must have been thinking about him more than I realised as I left the bathroom as I walked straight into someone going the opposite way down the corridor. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” 

I imidendly recognised that voice, even as hoarse it was, it was the front man! 

“No, I’m sorry I’m the one that wasn’t looking where I was going,” I said. 

He looked like he was going to say something else but was cut off by two harsh sneezes into his elbow. 

“Bless you, that’s some cold you’ve got there,” I said. 

He nodded, running a hand under his nose. “I don’t remember the last time I felt this ill.” 

“Poor you, it sucks you couldn’t finish the show but your guitarist is right, can’t have you dying.” He chuckled, coughing a little. 

“I just hate letting people down, they’ve come out to see us and I don’t want to be the one to mess that up.” 

“No, no, it’s not your fault. Everyone gets sick sometimes, even the front man in an awesome band.” 

“Than…” He was cut off by a harsh cough that quickly turned into a fit. By the time he could breathe again he was shaking and I could hear the slight wheeze to his breathing.

“No offence, but you sound like you should be in bed and as far away from people as possible,” I said. 

“That’s the plan, I was just going to order an uber back to the hotel and sleep,” he said, rubbing his chest. I could see that just being stood up was exhausting for him. I don't know how he managed to even get on stage. He was still wearing the clothes he’d been wearing on stage though he’d pulled a beanie over his messy hair, a few bits sticking out the front, clinging to his forehead. 

“Me too, are you in Carlton?” I asked. 

He looked at me like I was crazy. “Sorry, sorry, I must sound like some insane stalker. I promise you I’m not. It’s just the only hotel around here so it kind of slipped out.”  

He tried to laugh but his voice cracked and he coughed instead. 

“That cough sounds nasty and I know this sounds creepy so I promise I’m not trying to kidnap you, but would you like a lift to the hotel? I promise my car is nicer than some random uber and I’ll have you there in half the time.” 

I don’t know what made me offer, he was a famous musician and I was just a fan who’d walked through the wrong door but I cared about him and the poor guy was so ill I wanted to do something. 

He looked unsure and I would have totally understood if he’d said no, he didn’t even know me but then he sneezed again which quickly became a fit and each one sounded like it was scraping at his throat. 

“Ow,” he moaned, leaning back heavily against the wall. 

“Bless you, they sounded like they hurt.” 

He groaned, running a hand over his face. He looked worse than he had on stage and judging by the fact he was shivering he was probably feeling it too. 

“I think I’ll take that ride,” he said, his voice thick with congestion. 

“Are you sure?” I asked. 

He nodded, coughing lightly into his fist. “Thank you,” 

The poor thing sounded so pathetic I just wanted to give him a hug.

He led me out of a back entrance to avoid any people milling around and I took us to my car. I was suddenly embarrassed about the state of my car, there was mud splattered up the side and the footwell had all sorts of rubbish that I hadn’t had time to clean. 

“Sorry, it’s probably not up to your usual standards,” I said. 

He laughed. “I spend three hundred days of the year in a bus with six dudes, I don’t think a few cans can scare me.” 

As we got in I noticed he was still shivering so I whacked up the heat. 

The rest of the band aren’t going to be looking for you, are they? I don’t want them to think I’ve kidnapped you or something.” 

“No..” He coughed into his fist. “No, they told me to go to bed and stay as far away from them as possible.” 

I couldn’t help laughing a little. “Nice friends you’ve got,”

He smiled weakly and I felt my heart flutter a little. I'd had a crush on this man for years and now he was sitting in my car. 

“Can’t risk anyone else getting sick or we’ll have to cancel shows and we never want to do that.” 

“Makes sense but leaves you to suffer all alone,” I replied. 

It wasn’t a long drive to the hotel and I was already sad at the thought of leaving him, especially all alone. 

“It’s okay,” he sniffed, “I’m used to it.” 

My heart sank, he shouldn’t have to suffer all by himself even if it was to keep everyone else safe. He deserved comfort and love too. 

He instructed me to the back entrance of the hotel and I parked my car as close to the door as I could get. I watched him get out, stumbling a bit as he stood and resisted the temptation to help him. I didn’t want to over step. 

“You okay?” I asked. 

He nodded, coughing again. I hoped he wasn’t going to end up with some kind of chest infection, he sounded awful. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

I led him through the back door and straight up the stairs, avoiding the front desk and no doubt the fans that had gathered there hoping for a glimpse of the band. 

“What floor?” I asked. 

“Thirteen,” he replied. 

“Funny, me too.” 

“Are you sure you’re not stalking me?” he asked. For a moment I was actually scared he thought I was stalking him but his slight smile told me otherwise.

“Hand on my heart, I swear I didn’t know I was sleeping on the same floor as a famous rock star.” 

He laughed and started coughing again, leaning against the wall as he fought to catch his breath. “You’ve got to stop making me laugh.” 

“Sorry, I’m just naturally hilarious.” 

“We’ll see about that,” he said. 

My poor heart was hammering in my chest again, was he trying to say he wanted to see me again? 

I reached the top of the stairs, he was a few steps behind me and I could hear the wheezing in his breathing as he climbed. I knew he’d performed while ill before, it was eventable for all performers but whatever bug he’d picked up seemed to have really taken it out of him. 

“Which way?” I asked, pointing to the list of room numbers on the wall. 

“15,” he replied. 

“No way, that’s just freaky. I’m in room 14.” 

He looked at me then like I was some witch and for a moment I really thought he’d accuse me of being some creepy fan who's obviously planned the whole thing. 

“That is freaky,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re not going to murder me in my sleep are you?” 

“No, god no. Then where would I get some great music?” 

He smiled as we reached our doors. I didn’t want to go in and say goodbye, it was like I’d stepped into one of my teenage dreams and I wasn’t ready to wake up. 

“Thank you, you’ve been really kind to me and I really appreciate it. If I’m still alive in the morning then I’ll speak to the guys about getting you a lifetime pass to our shows or something.” 

“You don’t have to do that, I was doing what any decent person would,” I said. 

“It’d be my pleasure, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

He gave me one last smile, a real one like it’d seen so many times on magazine covers and on stage but this one was all for me. 

I replayed the night in my head over and over again until I must have fallen asleep, I couldn’t believe the whole thing hadn’t been a dream. The next thing I knew I was being woken up by screaming, I  jumped up thinking the worst only to realise the tv was still on and had turned into some horror film. I flicked it off and got out of bed, feeling a little shaken. I decided to make a hot chocolate before trying to go back to sleep. That’s when I heard him, the sound of coughing coming from the other side of the wall, followed by a sneeze and a groan. He sounded miserable and I hated the thought of him being all alone when he was so ill, just because he said he was used to it didn’t mean he wanted it.  I stared at the hot chocolate I was making and wondered if he’d like some or itf that was totally over stepping. I didn’t know him and he certainly didn’t know me, was I really going to knock on his door at four in the morning and over him hot chocolate? 

It took me a few minutes to convince myself it was a half decent idea but I figured the worst that could happen is he said no. 

I put the drinks on a tray and go knock on his door. For a few moments I think maybe he’s fallen asleep but then I hear more coughing and snuffling as he comes to the door. 

He looked worse, even in the low light his complexion looks ghostly pale and even wearing an oversized sweatshirt with the band's logo on it he was shaking. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” His voice was so thick with congestion it was barely audible. 

“No.. Well yes but I was making myself a hot chocolate and I thought you might need one?” as I said it I was aware just how ridiculous I sounded. If I were him I’d want to be left alone, what was I thinking? 

He sighed, running his hand through his messed up hair. He was probably trying to think of a nice way to ask me to leave, I was already kicking myself for bothering him.

“That would be nice actually, come in.” 

I was so surprised I nearly dropped the try as he moved aside to let me in. 

“Sorry about the mess,” he said. 

It looked like he’d just thrown down all his things and gone straight to bed, the clothes he’d worn at the show were piled in the corner along with his trusty beanie. 

“So this is what a rockstars hotel room looks like,” I said, putting the tray on the dressing table. 

“I’m actually quite tidy norm…” he snapped forward with a sneeze. 

“Bless…” 

He sneezed again and again, each one harsher than the last and leaving him dizzy. 

“Sit down before you fall down.” 

He stumbled over to the bed and grabbed a handful of tissues to blow his nose. 

“Sorry, I’m so gross right now,” he apologised. 

“Stop apologising for being ill, you can’t help it,” I said, passing him the hot chocolate. 

“I am sorry about waking you up though, I tried not to,” he said. 

I took my drink and sat down in the chair next to the bed, my arm resting dangerously close to his. 

“It wasn’t just you actually, I’d fallen asleep with the tv on and it started playing some horror flick. I got woken up by the token blonde girl screaming,” 

“Oh..” He started coughing again, barking coughs that really sounded like they were grating against his chest. I finally broke and reached to pat his back, I could feel how hot his fever was even through his thick sweatshirt. 

“Oh honey, you sound terrible.” 

He groaned, leaning back against the pillows. “I feel awful, I can’t breathe through my nose and I’m freezing..” 

“Do you mind?” I asked, holding my hand out. He shook his head and I put my wrist against his forehead. 

“I knew you had a fever but you’re burning up, do you have medicine?” 

He nodded, coughing lightly. “On the table, I fell asleep before I could take any.”

I grabbed the bottles off the table along with a cup of water. 

“Here you go, though I have to tell you what I pictured rock stars doing drugs in their hotel rooms I never pictured it being Theraflu.” 

He laughed which quickly turned to coughing again, it sounded like he was trying to drag up all the gunk in lungs and failing. 

“Here drink,” I said, pushing the cup of water into his hands. He was shaking but managed to take a sip and calm down enough to breathe, though he was still trembling.

“Ugh… I hate this,” 

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well,” I said, I wanted to run my hand through his hair and take care of him probably. 

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t get me sick… did you?” he said, a little tease in his voice. 

“No, I mean being sick sucks, especially when you’re so far from home and have no one to keep you company,” I said. 

“You’re keeping me company,” he replied, sniffling thickly. 

“Only because you woke me up,” I teased but I could see something in his eyes, a little honesty behind the fever. 

“I’m thankful though, you’re right about being alone when you’re sick, it sucks.” 

I reached out and took his hand, feeling relieved when he didn’t pull away. I don’t know what made me feel so brave, maybe it was the fact it was the middle of the night or all the sugar I’d drunk. 

“Can I ask you something?” I asked. 

He nodded, sniffing into a tissue. 

“Why are you letting me help you? I don’t imagine you normally let fans into your hotel room.” 

He tried to clear his throat but it caught in his chest and he coughed.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s the fever or maybe it’s because you’re nice and treat me like a normal person. That can be rare in the line of work…” 

He trailed off and I felt bad for him. We’d all read about their relationships in magazines, how when things go wrong it’s everybody's business. 

“Well I hope you’re at least feeling a bit better,” I said. 

“I am, thank you,” he smiled, one of his genuine happy smiles and my heart melted. 

He took my hand and pulled me toward the bed. I ended up lying beside him with his head against my chest and my arm around him.

“Sorry if I get you sick though,” he said, sniffling.

“It’s okay, I know a good rockstar who can take care of me if that happens.” 

He chuckled, coughing against my shoulder. 

“I guess we’ll have to see,” 

I kept waiting for the moment I’d wake up and it would all turn out to be a dream but as he squeezed my hand I knew it was all real. 

[imthebadguyyy]

Temporary Fix

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (fem!F1 driver!reader)

Fandom - F1

Summary - You're the only female F1 driver, and you're damn good at your job. Oh, and you also have a friends with benefits relationship with a certain 7x World Champion.

Warnings - smut, best friends -> lovers, slight exhibitionism

A/N - you have the second merc seat in this, so Valterri isn't here : (( not proof read

Sometimes, you hated yourself for following your passion. Driving a F1 car had been your dream ever since you could remember. The long process from karting to F1 had been a difficult one. When you were seven, you had a go kart track manager that you couldn't race there because you were a girl. That had cemented your will to be the best you could be, and you had done it.

You had made it into a Mercedes F1 seat after spending two years in Williams. It was safe to say that you were one of the best drivers, with killer instinct and an excellent eye for overtakes. The likes of Mika Hakkinen, Niki Lauda, Jacques Villeneuve and others had praised your skills, naming you one of the best talents in the current driver pool.

But the glory, the fame, the praise, sometimes you wished you could just evaporate into thin air. This was one of those times. Press conferences sucked, they really did. Reporters and journalists thought they were entitled to ask you the most sexist of questions, brushing them off by saying it was 'just a simple question'. Sometimes the drivers you were paired up with defended you, like Seb or Pierre or Lewis or even Kimi. Sometimes people didn't want to say anything, or they just laughed it off or answered for you.

This was not one of those times. Charles was supposed to be your partner for the press conference, but he wasn't feeling too great so you were on your own. It had started off fine, with the usual questions like 'how are you feeling about the race?' 'is it gonna be a good weekend for Mercedes?' and then it had gone to 'Do you think you being the only woman here, you should have a special suit?' or 'Are you sure it's a good idea for you to continue another year in F1?' that's what had irked you off.

With a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head, you bit back the cutting response that had sprung to your lips, opting to simply look disapprovingly in silence, speaking more words in the quiet. Eventually, the conference was over, and you made your way out of the hall, deep in thought, so lost in your own world, you didn't notice when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into one of the nearby storage closets.

Your protest of "Hey!-" was cut off by a pair of lips pressing to yours, strong arms wrapping around your torso. "Heard you had a bad day with the press" Lewis mumbled against your lips, brow furrowing when you sighed and let your head drop onto his shoulder. "Yeah they're such fucking jerks" you replied, closing your eyes. "I'm sorry you have to deal with them every time" he continued, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Eh, I mean I'd rather not talk about it" you continued, letting your fingers trace a pattern on his chest.

The silence in the room was disturbed by the ringing of Lewis's phone, making you jump softly. "Bono" he answered, looking down at the screen. "Pick it up"

"Hello?"

"Lewis, we're waiting for the meeting? And is Y/N with you?" Bono's voice rang through the tiny closet, as you turned to look at Lewis with wide eyes. Shit, the debrief. "Yeah, I'm coming! Oh, and I'll see if I can find Y/N" he replied, making you suppress a smile. The moment he put the phone down, the both of you burst into giggles, before he leaned down to press another kiss to your lips. "Well, we should go" he said, biting back a smile when you sighed, and cuddled into his shoulder. "Fine"

"But I'll make it up to you tonight baby" he continued, as a shiver ran down your spine. Oh yeah, you two had a friends with benefits situation going on too. No biggie

Except, well, you know you couldn't tell anyone, and you were definitely in love with each other, but I mean, of course it was better to be stupid and just simply refuse to acknowledge those feelings for each other.

♥︎☾☁︎

It had happened, when Lewis won his championship in Turkey. The team had thrown a (socially distant) party, and you had gotten just a little more drunk than you should have, but the champagne was flowing, tequila shots were being taken, beer was being chugged so you just jumped in and had a few more glasses of wine than you should have, and participated in a few rounds of shots.

Before you had known, a pair of hot lips had crashed onto yours, and your arms had tightly held onto a broad pair of shoulders, as the pair of you had stumbled up to your hotel room, crashing backwards onto the bed. Your drunken mind had been sober enough to recognise the 'Still I Rise' tattoo across his back when he tugged his shirt off.

At the same time, Lewis had recognised your face, heart speeding up ever so slightly because holy shit he was making out with you, and he really, really liked you. Before he knew it, your dress was down to your knees, and his shirt was a rumpled mess on the floor, your friendship gone far beyond repair, but only in the best way possible.

The next morning, you had let out a groan when the sunshine had flashed into your eyes, rolling over to find Lewis lying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he slept peacefully. Your heart rate had sped up, and you had shot up, scaring the living day light out of Lewis. He had awoken with a start, confusion present in his brown eyes, before realization had sunk in, and he had shot out of bed, wrapping one of the towels around his lower body.

But before the two of you could get awkward, he had strutted over to you, grabbing your face in his hands before pulling you in for a kiss that made you feel weak and light headed.

And then the both of you came to the conclusion that you two wanted something loose and flexible, something fun with no commitment.

But was it what you wanted?

♥︎☾☁︎

Sometimes debriefs could drag on. And on. And on. Eventually, the engineers left the room, leaving only Toto, Lewis, Bono, Angela, James and yourself in the room. Over the years, it had become like a family for you, and you loved them to absolute bits. The mood in the room had changed, as you all joked around for a while.

Watching from the other side of the room, Lewis couldn't help the smile that etched itself onto his face, when he saw you throw your head back with laughter at something Toto said, inhaling sharply when your neck came into clear view, a sudden urge to mark you up settling in on his body.

It was a thrill, to think of how many times you had come undone on his fingers and his tongue, how many nights you begged for him to fill you up with his cock. It was a thrill to think of all the times he had cried your name out in ecstasy while your tongue worked wonders around him. And yet, here you were, acting as if you two were just best friends, not two people who could barely keep their hands off of each other.

Just two nights ago, he had made you scream his name so loud, the person the next room, who just happened to be Daniel, had not let him hear the end of it. Thankfully, the Aussie hadn't realized it was you in his bed. Two nights ago, he had made you see stars, and after that you had rewarded him with the performance of his life to Nights Like This by Kehlani.

Snapping back to reality when a slight poke was applied to his shoulder, Lewis looked over to see Angela looking at him with a slight smirk on her face. He strongly suspected that the woman definitely had some sort of inkling about the both of you. How ? No idea. But she was a crazy smart woman, and was bound to have figured out that he was seeing someone.

It didn't help that atleast half the people on the grid had at some point teased him, telling him the both of you were made for each other. It was like the universe was pushing the both of you to be together, and he kept pushing it away

"So are we feeling confident going into this weekend?" Toto asked, grabbing his attention from the smirking blonde.

"Yup!" Your cheery answer elicited a smile from everyone in the room. "Yeah I think so" he said, watching as you flashed him a quick smile. "Okay, then, I think we're done for now. Any questions?" Bono asked, scanning a data sheet in front of him. "No, i'm good" you replied, reaching over to grab your phone. "Yeah me too" Lewis said, far too concerned with what was going to happen later that night to pay his full attention to Bono.

"Okay then. We'll see you tomorrow"

And with that they departed. Before Lewis could follow you, a hand grabbed his and he turned to see Angela, Toto and Bono looking at him expectantly. "So whose got you all distracted and flustered?" Angela asked, earning a smirk from Toto. "What? No one" he replied, slapping himself mentally for being all day dreamy during a meeting. "Oh really? I'm willing to bet you didn't hear anything I said during the meet except the last bit" Bono said, smiling when his driver got visibly flustered.

"So do we know her?" Angela continued, watching him closely for any giveaway reactions. "How would you know her if I don't like anyone?" Lewis said, hoping to God it didn't come across as awkward as it sounded.

"Never said you liked anyone. I'm saying you're in love with someone" Angela said, watching as her friend's eyes widened in shock, and he shook his head profusely. "Okay are you on something? I'm just gonna head back to the hotel now" he murmured, confused, and somewhat taken aback by her bluntness.

Ignoring the looks on the others faces, he made his way out to the paddock, trying his hardest to make sense of his feelings. Was a casual relationship with you what he wanted? He wanted so much more than that.

Lewis knew, deep down in his heart, that he wanted to hold your hand in public, and kiss you right on the lips in front of everyone when you shared a podium. He wanted to be able to call you his, to not just spend the night with you, but to spend all his days with you. But you didn't want that.

Or so he thought.

♥︎☾☁︎

Back at the hotel, Lewis busied himself with working out, trying to push all his frustrations out via the workout. He knew that you were going to turn up in the night, and he looked so damn forward to seeing you each night, but god, he hated it when you left in the morning. Every morning when your warm body slipped out from under the sheet, his arms would tighten for a moment, before your giggle would bring him back to reality and he'd hastily draw back, smiling at you. His favourite moment was when he came to your hotel room in Spain. In the morning, he had woken up before you, and before leaving, he had pressed a little kiss to your forehead. The most gorgeous smile had curled onto your lips, and his heart had melted into a little puddle when you rested your cheek on his hand

And then in Monaco, when he had taken you to his apartment, you had woken up before him, and he had woken up to the sight of you bringing a tray of pancakes and fruits, followed by a soft kiss to his cheek.

It was those moments he cherished, but it was those same moments that confused him.

His train of thought was broken when a knock echoed in the room, as he walked over to the door, opening it to find : you

"Hey" you greeted him, walking in and shedding your jacket. "Hey" he replied, reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat off of his body. "Wow um, is this a bad time?" You asked, eyes trailing down his abs, watching as his body glistened in the fading sun light. "No its fine, I just finished my workout. You hungry?" He continued, biting back a smirk when he saw your eyes roaming his body.

"W-what? Yeah, i, um, suppose - yeah" you murmured, mind already far down the gutter.

"For food darling, not for sex" he said, making you blush and let out a small gasp. "Lewis!" You chided, shoving him softly. "You know you were thinking it" he mumbled, pushing you up against the wall. "Yeah I was" you whispered back, yanking him forward by his shoulders, slamming your lips against his.

Lifting you up from the waist, he pressed his body further into yours, one of his hands wandering down to your ass, squeezing harshly, earning a moan from your lips. Taking the opportunity, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning when you let your core grind against him.

Leading you towards the bed, he stopped in confusion when you stopped him, maneuvering him towards the balcony. "Want you to fuck me against the window or in the balcony" you gasped out, earning a moan from him.

"Right where anyone could see us, hmm? Didn't know you were into that baby" he growled, grabbing your earlobe in between his teeth, earning an airy gasp from you, as the wetness threatened to seep down your legs.

"Mmhmm" was all you could muster, your mind so clouded with desperation you couldn't form a single coherent thought. The only thing you were aware of was that only Lewis could make you feel the pleasure you wanted to feel, only he would take you to that little piece of heaven, only he would hold your hand and fuck you into oblivion, and he would still be there to clean you down with a sponge softly.

"If you insist"

Grabbing you roughly, he slammed your body against the massive hotel room window, ripping the mercedes team shirt you were wearing off of your quivering form, letting it drop to the floor, before he hooked his fingers into the material of your jeans, tugging the denim down your legs

With a soft groan, you pulled his nike shorts down his legs, moaning when his cock came into view, the throbbing in between your legs making you whimper, arousal and need growing tenfold in your tummy.

"Please" you whispered, meeting his eyes, so he could see the pure desperation in your eyes. "Please what?" He said, a certain roughness you hadn't heard before creeping into his voice

"Please fuck me" you moaned, gasping when he brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly. "Oh trust me doll, i will. But first, i want to have you dripping wet and ready for me. I want to make you cum on my fingers, so you're wet and ready for my cock. Do you want my fingers princess?" he continued, feeling his arousal grow when you whimpered and whined.

"Words baby girl. Or I'll just leave you here with your pathetic fingers. I bet you can't even reach all those spots inside you that make you scream, when your tiny little fingers try to please yourself. I bet you just feel like sinking into yourself, but the thought of my fingers keeps you awake. Do you do that, sweet girl? Do you pretend your fingers are mine when you're touching yourself, hmm?'

When you didn't answer, he delivered a smack to your ass, groaning when you moaned at the pleasurable sting. "Yes" you whispered abashed.

"Don't be shy baby. Its okay. I know you feel so good when I love on you. I can see it when you scream my name" and with that, his pointer finger began circling your clit, rubbing circles around it before shifting so he was rubbing the sensitive bud directly.

Your moans of ecstasy were music to his ear, a smile gracing his features, as he let his middle finger slip into you, thrusting it in and out of you. Your soft cry of "fuck" cracked when he shoved his pointer into you as well, scissoring them in and out of you

"Oh fucking hell Lew-" "Shh my darling, i didn't say you could talk, did I?" He said, fingers working at an indescribably quick pace, as the knot in your tummy tightened and threatened to loosen. "I'm gonna-" "go ahead baby" he murmured, using his pointer and thumb to pinch your clit roughly, as you came around his fingers with a scream

"Good girl. You wanna put that pretty little mouth to use somewhere else?" he asked, watching as you dropped to your knees eagerly, (just like I would do irl) reaching up to rest your hands on his hips.

"Someone's eager to suck my cock hmm? Be a good girl for me, and don't waste time" he ordered, a shudder running down his body when your nails traced the veins on his cock, and then as they reached downwards, your thumb circling his tip, collecting his pre cum on your finger. Then you shoved your thumb in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, before sucking softly on your digit, rolling your eyes back. You were snapped back to reality when Lewis roughly yanked your head up, pure arousal clouding his pupils

"You better use your mouth right now, or i swear i will leave you here alone to pleasure yourself" he threatened, moaning when you took his tip into your mouth at once, sucking softly before swirling your tongue upwards.

The feel of your tongue on him made him buck his hips into your mouth, the unexpected movement pushed him quite far back in your mouth, looking up at him, you hollowed out your cheeks, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth, the sounds he was making above you fuelling you. You took him as far back as you could without gagging, as a strangled moan of "Fuck Y/N!"left his lips. He grabbed your hair, tugging upwards, the tingling on your scalp sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "Fuck baby, you're gonna have to stop now, I really want to fuck you now" he growled out, pulling you up before pushing you towards to balcony railing

Lining up with your entrance, he watched as you let out a shaky breath, eyes falling shut, as you clenched in anticipation.

"Are you sure you want this Y/N?" he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign that he was being too rough, or that you didn't want what was coming next

"Turning your head around to face him, you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. "I've never been more sure baby" was your affirming reply.

Kissing you back with the same fervour, he slowly pushed into you from behind, the both of you groaning in sync when your walls enveloped him. "fuck you feel so good darling. So fucking tight" lewis moaned, making you moan as well as the pleasure coursed through your veins.

Reaching around you, Lewis rubbed your clit while he continued to snap his hips against yours, making your breasts bounce against your chest, your hands gripping the balcony railing for dear life. Thank god it was dark.

He continued to rub and pinch you clit, before swiping his fingers through your wet folds. Then he shoved his fingers into your mouth, prompting you to suck on them

"Be an angel and suck on my fingers for me" he growled, moaning when your mouth eagerly closed around his fingers, sucking them with fervour.

Snapping his hips into you desperately, his hands encircled your waist, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, swishing his fingers around in your mouth. "Fuck baby thats it, i'm gonna cum" he groaned, capturing your earlobe in between his teeth, moaning when you clenched down on him again

"Oh fucking hell-" with a moan, he came into you, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to rub your clit again, sighing with satisfaction when you came around him with a scream of "Lewis!"

Panting, he dragged you back to the bed, both of you collapsing into the covers.

Your chest rising and falling rapidly, you curled up into his chest, letting your head droop onto his shoulder, as his fingers traced his initials onto your hip.

"Well princess, we seem to have a problem here" he said, as you snapped your head up to look at him in confusion.

"I think i'm in love with you"

♡☾☁︎

A/N - part 2? Also feel free to drop a comment, i'd really appreciate it 🤍 thank you so much for reading 🤍