#Pardon the late-night rambling

[royalarchivist]

I got a lot of cool / fun clips from the early days of QSMP to share tomorrow, but I need to apologize in advance because, despite several different creators being featured in the clips, 90% of them are from Phil's POV. I'll try and intersperse some other clip reblogs between them.

[momentomori24]

I like to headcanon Shin as a hardcore atheist (complete opposite of Hiyori who's a very religious person). He can't see himself believing in a higher power, not when his plights and tragedies and suffering were always met with indifference by whatever higher power may exist. But not by Sou Hiyori-- his guardian angel all throughout high school. His protector and his tormentor. His saviour and his captor. Someone he devoutly followed for years after having found him. Someone he looks up to; someone superior (always "Hiyori" while he's still "Shin", never his equal). Someone whose teachings he takes to heart and lives by. Someone he seeks out instinctively in his hour of desperation and need. Someone whose hand-me-down he wears dutifully around his neck to keep him close at all times. Someone who will praise him for his obedience and dependency and punish him for his defiance and independence. Someone he loves and respects and fears all at once. The moon can't shine without the sun, and Hiyori all but shone upon him when he couldn't find the light within himself. Shin doesn't believe in God, but loving Hiyori is the closest he's ever gotten to religion. I think it's poetic, in a way.

[sunstone-smiles]

So I finally started season 6…

And because I started season six, Jon is officially gone and has been replaced with the new character of Bobby 🥲 AND apparently three of the other side characters are gone too *cries again*

The last episode of season 5 (the last episode with Jon) WAS SO DISAPPOINTING. It wasn’t even a CHiPs episode; it was a pilot to a “spin-off” show (that never took off) that had NOTHING to do with the highway patrol. Jon and Ponch just appeared for like a minute at the beginning and the end. AND THAT WAS IT. And one of the actors that was in that pilot is now, ironically, playing the new character of Bobby (as seen in the right picture).

I haven't finished the first episode of season six yet, but so far it feels chaotic like it should only exist in a dream. This is the last season, so I've got to see it until the end.

I MISS JON ALREADY

[2knightt]

I think I restarted a mini cult

hey! so like what’s been happening!😭😭

hey!!! WHAT!!!!

[e-hibiscus]

Pardon me being in my plushie era, but listen to the ramblings of a delusional Arle lover

Making a plushie for Arlecchino. 🥺 initially she doesn’t know how to react to be given something like this. She just stares at you, not saying a word until you apologize for making a childish gift to which Arlecchino simply shakes her head. Her soft words of reassurance were sweet and she accepted the plush. You can’t really tell if she liked or not.

Rarely is anyone ever allowed in her office; not even the children of the house of hearth. Arle leaves your gift on a shelf, with many other gifts she has been given from the children for whatever reason. Perhaps it was to strengthen her facade as “Father”, but Arlecchino cares deeply– even as the “unfeeling” father figure. Her little collection of gifts are kept neat, clean, and tidy.

Some point down the line, she finds a plushie that reminds her of you, and she gets it, taking it home and setting them next to each other. Arlecchino often finds herself staring at them and every now and again changing the little accessories. A part of her is fond of this activity, especially when it reminds her of you and your love for her. It heals a little bit of her childhood self in a way 🥺

Arle never tells you about it, and you only learn of this when you noticed it there one evening while Arlecchino was working.It was late, so she allows you to come in and accompany her for the night because you’ve missed her. You tell her about your day, and she listens to your words with the utmost attention. However mundane or trivial, Arle just wanted to hear your soft voice.

Arle sets you on her lap so you’re able to cuddle with her while she continues going over her papers. That’s when you notice the two plushies sharing a little coat together as you were dozing off. It makes you melt seeing that Arle treasured it along with all the other knick knacks peoples. However “cold and unfeeling” as Arlecchino portrays herself, you know she’s one to cherish such things.

If she has a nickname for you like dove or bunny, the plushie resembles that aspect. That’s how you pieced together that the plushie was a representation of you. It even had a custom little ribbon like the one she’s gifted you. It’s only if you ask her directly does she mention that plushie reminded her of you. 

[minniesmutt]

𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢: 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢

♱ ━━━ PAIRING: NONE ♱ ━━━ CW: MENTIONS OF WAR, ALCOHOL, IMPLIED SEXUAL ASSAULTS, MENTION OF PROSTITUTES, DEBT, DEATH MENTIONS, BLOOD, BITING, ♱ ━━━ WC: 2.3K

     He didn’t care. Never did. Not about his kingdom. His wife, his children. Nothing. Truly only cared about power. Y/n knew that from far too young of an age. 

     Until her seventeenth birthday, she was the only daughter born to the King. A pawn to gain more power once she hit eighteen. Destined to be married off to the highest bidder from another kingdom. But war came about. 

     Her brothers were the ones who fought in it while she was sitting at home. Her father— the king who was supposed to lead his kingdom’s army— sat at home while his sons risked their lives and he used the castle maids for his desires. Even though he was on his fourth with, her mother.

     When news arrived of her brother’s had passed and the enemy was coming towards them with plans to take his head, he couldn’t have that. He enlisted outside help. Promising to pay them back in due time. 

     That was five years ago. Y/n’s mother passed away two years after the war ended and her father hadn’t bothered to remarry, obviously content with using the staff. He wasn’t much of a king anymore. He remained drunk all day and used the maids and the town prostitutes. He hadn’t ruled in a long time. The role had unofficially fallen on Y/n. Most of the staff respected her much more. Advisors tried their best to help her but it all just seemed like they were talking down to her and using her to get their chance at the thrown—some more… forceful than others.

     Her brother’s death was the downfall of it all. One of them should have taken over the kingdom. But there weren’t any options in the wake of their death but her. But it was putting unimaginable stress on her. All the voices in her ear told her a multitude of things while she tried to fix the kingdom her father left broken.

     Y/n never knew who her father employed to help them win the war nor what debt he owed them. Rumors around the town, soldiers telling stories of the bloodshed you’d only hear in stories. Some say her crazy power-hungry father employed a clan of vampires to slaughter his enemies. And he had yet to pay them back.

     She didn’t fully believe it until one of the maids ran into her room as she was getting ready for bed one night.

     “You’re Highness!” The maid panted out as she pushed the doors open, “Pardon my intrusion.”     “What’s the matter?” Y/n asked as she stood from her vanity.

     “We have some, unhappy guests in the thrown room. I fear the king may be in danger. They are open for a discussion but the king, he’s…”

     “Far too drunk off his ass to hold a conversation so you ran to me,” Y/n finished her sentence as she slipped her night robe on, heading to the throne room in question, the maid following behind her.

     The door was still wide open. She could hear her father's drunk rambling from down the hall. She turned the corner just to see three men she was unfamiliar with. Two turned to her as she entered while the third had his hand wrapped around her father's throat. His advisors quivered on the ground, apologizing profusely and begging for his and their lives to be spared. All the while the king laughed and threw meaningless threats at the young man choking him against his thrown, at least he was trying to. Rather hard to talk with a hand around your throat. 

     “What’s going on?” Y/n asked, more confused than scared

     “Who are you?” The more built of the two off to the side asked. 

     “The princess of this kingdom. Who are you?” Y/n asked

     “Forgive our late intrusion, your highness.” His tone changed rather quickly when she mentioned she was the princess. He walked to stand in front of her before getting on one knee and taking one of her hands in his. He kissed her knuckles before rising again.

     “Pardon my rudeness, but you still have not told me your name.”

     “Apologies. My name is Bang Chan. Clan leader of the vampires you’re father hired to fight your war.” 

     She thought the rumors were simply just rumors. But with the man standing in front of her as living proof, she had no choice but to believe them now. “May I ask what this late-night visit is for?”

     “Your father has been refusing to pay his debts. We understood for a few years with the loss of his sons and wife and you’re kingdom’s economy. But it’s been growing, yet he still hasn’t paid anything.” Chan explained, “We came to discuss the issue peacefully but it seems that word is not in his vocabulary.”

     “It certainly is not.” Y/n sighed.

     The comment made the three vampires raise an eyebrow before she continued further

     “Our economy has grown better, but it is not due to him. He lays in his room or on the throne all day as a blabbering fool. I’m the one who has been serving as the kingdom’s leader since my mother’s passing three years ago. If I had known about any of the debt we owed then I would have delegated a system to make sure we paid it off. No one made me aware,” Y/n glanced at the advisors on the ground.

     Chan followed her gaze before looking back at the throne. The second vampire still held onto her father’s throat as he weakly threw punches. Chan looked back at her.

     “A debt is still owed. Whether it’s money or blood.”

     A pained moan came from the king. Y/n spared him a glance. Whether they would just take his life or the whole kingdom’s. The latter was far more important to her.

     “May I propose a deal?” She asked

     “Depends. What are you proposing, your highness?” Chan asked, very curious

     “Take me back and leave my kingdom alone. I’ll solely take on the debt. I can delegate people here to pay off my father’s debt to you while I'm there as a form of collateral.”

     Chan seemed taken aback by the offer. “Do you understand the implications?”

      Not fully could she guess what she was getting herself into. But it was a simple chance to get them to leave her kingdom alone for some time. Allow them to get back on their feet and pay off the debt in hopes of getting their princess back. Or give time for her father to finally keel over and the land fall directly to her and allow the vampire clan to rule over them instead. 

     “I can assume them. As long as my kingdom is safe, I do not care what happens to me.”

     The room was silent for a moment. No one dared speak. 

     “Let him go Minho,” Chan stated before the vampire holding her father dropped him. “Make your preparations. We will be back tomorrow night.”

     Y/n nodded as the three made their departure. That’s when the chaos from the advisors erupted 

     “Princess, you can’t leave the kingdom unattended!”

     “We can’t possibly pay back the debt!”

     “We’ll be attacked from all sides with you gone!”

     “You should have thought of this before you evaded paying them back. You knew the monsters you were dealing with yet not a single one of you informed me of it. I could have let them take his head instead. Is that what you would have preferred?”

     “No, you’re Highness.” Each of them bowed out of respect 

     “I will deal with this matter in the morning.” Y/n sighed before turning and walking out of the room. The maid who alerted her of the situation followed silently. 

     “Are you sure about this, my lady? I don’t mean to question your judgment but—“

     “If it keeps them away from the kingdom, yes,” Y/n replied. 

     She finished her nightly routine before getting into bed. The matters were things to deal with in the morning. 

     And she did. She delegated work to advisors based on their strengths, a few maids packed her belongings for her and she managed to send a few guards out to spread the news. Some reported back shock and promises of working twice as hard to bring her back sooner. 

     The local Churches weren’t all too pleased with the news. A few priests made the trip to the castle to protest to her but their words did not sway her. Rather she sent them back home and opted to station her guards along the road so none of them would ambush the vampires. 

    Most preparations were finished by sundown. Y/n ate her final meal in the castle before having some time to herself. However, it didn’t last long until the guards announced the vampire's arrival. 

     Y/n met them in the foyer, castle staff lined up to see her off. It was only two of the vampires from last night. Chan and the one he had stood next to. Minho nowhere in sight. 

     The staff bowed as she descended the staircase towards the two vampires. Taking note her father was nowhere in sight. Typical. 

     “Have you finished your preparations, your highness?” Chan asked as she came to stand in front of them. 

     “Yes.” She nodded.

     The maids loaded her bags onto their carriage before the two vampires helped the princess inside. Both sitting opposite her when they got inside. Chan knocked on the carriage to tell the driver to start moving. Once out of the castle walls and into the nearby town, you could hear the townspeople yelling. 

     “Not all too happy about your departure?” Chan asked

     “We have only been able to recover from the war because of me. My father’s been a drunk since before then. Simply sits around drinking and using the maids.” Y/n sighed

     “Uses?” Both men looked at her as she cast her gaze out the small window

     “Sexual pleasure. Uses his status as king to do so. His advisors are no better.” Y/n explained

     “Maybe you should have let Minho kill them last night,” the blond stated

     “Felix,” Chan sighed as they made it out of the castle town. Many subjects shouting but it was all muffled by the walls. 

     The journey back to the vampires was a bit long. It was also night which provided a lovely view of the land basked in moonlight. 

     Chan and Felix did explain a few things to her about her stay with them. Warned her there would be eight vampires in total. That news did shock her but the two reassured her that each and every one of them was respectful. 

      “There are other humans in the castle as well. Though they are just saff.” Felix added, hoping she’d find some solace in that fact

     “And you are no prisoner. You are free to roam the castle and if you wish to go into the surrounding town, one of us or a staff member can accompany you.” Chan stated

     “Thank you. I fully expected to be locked up in a room and used as feed,” Y/n stated

     “That is a matter we were getting to,” Chan sighed

     There were people in the surrounding town who did offer their blood to the vampires, but there were a few who did like the idea of a live-in feeder. And if there was a dire situation they had someone to feed from without causing their staff too much trouble. Of course, it wouldn’t be an all the time thing and none of them would drain her. 

    “Does it hurt?” Y/n asked

    “Not necessarily. Some points on the body are more painful than others.” Chan explained.

     “If it’s not too much to ask, could I… feel what it would be like?”

     Both men looked at each other before Felix moved to ain't next to her. 

     “Felix is the gentlest out of all of us,” Chan stated 

     “Where are you comfortable?” Felix asked, offering his hand to her for comfort. 

     “Wherever it would hurt the least is preferred.” Y/n placed her hand in his.

     Felix nodded and turned her towards him more, moving her hair off her neck. “Relax,” Felix leaned in, warm breath fanning her neck

     Y/n nodded and took a breath. The next moment she felt a pinch on her skin as his fangs sunk into her. It wasn't super painful, more irritating than anything. She squeezed his hand in reflex. After a moment the pain dulled and a sense of pleasure replaced before Felix pulled away, licking the wound before pulling away. 

     “Well?” Chan questioned

     “Not terrible. Though I do feel tired,” Y/n said

     Both men chuckled before Felix adjusted them so she could lay comfortably while Chan draped his coat over her. “It’s normal for some tiredness after you’ve been fed from. Rest. We should arrive before you wake.” Chan said as she laid on Felix. 

     She slightly didn't trust the two but her tiredness outweighed her distrust. She easily fell asleep against the smaller vampire. The rocking of the carriage itself was also calming. 

     By the time she woke, Chan was carrying her up a flight of stairs. Groaning as her eyes adjusted to the light. 

     “Welcome back princess,” Chan said as he glanced down at her. 

     “How long was I asleep for?” She asked

     “A good few hours. I was sure you would sleep till morning.”

     “Hm. Been some time since I've had a decent rest.”

     Chan hummed in response before opening a door and walking inside. He laid her down in the bed, it was soft, much similar to her own. “I’ll have a maid come and help you change and check the bite mark. We’ll give you the night to settle before you meet the rest of us.”

     “Thank you,” Y/n offered him a sleepy smile. 

     Chan returned the smile and kissed her forehead before leaving the room. 

♱ ━━━ SERIES M.LIST NEXT

♱ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

♱ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[prince0fpaints]

VENTURE NATION I COME BEARING OFFERINGS

Working for the Wayfinders Society leaves Sloan with the dilemma of messy nails, which reader works so hard on perfecting for their big day..

ᓚᘏᗢ

I wrote this at 1 am so pardon any spelling mistakes and enjoy the new Venture crumbs!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ*✩‧₊˚

"Stay still! I won't be able to get it on properly otherwise." Sloan was especially fidgety today, glancing over at the clock and at the calendar that hung slightly lopsided in the kitchenette. "Sorry pebble, It's just today is THE day! How can I keep still!" You were acutely aware of the day Sloan was talking about, they had been talking about it for about 3 weeks now. You sighed as you applied the final coat of clear polish onto their nails listening to them go over the story of how they waited and waited and now the day was finally here. "I mean, how can I not be excited!? My team is finally visiting Göbekli Tepe! Only teams of 4-5 were allowed there every year and now.." you were smiling at Sloan, pure love smeared across your expression. Though, it was quickly wiped away when they scooped you up into a vice grip they called a hug. ".. I'm finally going!! Aw man I can't wait!" They were practically bouncing off of the walls as they waited for the transportation to take them all the way to the barely excavated site. All the meanwhile you were delicately putting away the nail polish and decorative stickers while Sloan rambled on and on about this once in a lifetime expedition. "It was discovered in 1963 but wasn't excavated till 1993! Teams stopped going to preserve its core history but now after so long it's finally open to us! And the Wayfinders are the first to touch its grounds in years!!" You listened with a proud smile on your face, you could listen to your love for hours, late into the night, early in the morning, or all afternoon. You loved Sloan and it honestly hurt when they had to leave. But, they had been looking forward to this for years, and you were more than happy to see them off.

. . .

"Got everything? Goggles, boots, cell phone, backup cell-" "Amor! I've got everything, but I've gotta get going." you frowned just a little, you honestly wanted to go with them, however, because you weren't a member of the Wayfinders society you couldn't go with or on certain sites with Sloan. "Promise I'll call you as soon as I get to the living quarters and I'll take plenty of photos.. If I get permission." You loved that goofball dearly, anything they did made your stomach fill with butterflies. "And besides, If I miss you, I'll just take a look at the masterpieces on my hands!" That made you smile, compliments from Sloan and actions like that would prove they'd go to great lengths to do just about anything to make you happy. That sweet moment had to come to an end soon and with a kiss that felt like saying goodbye to a lover going to war, Sloan was in the car and off to the site. And almost in an instant after the car pulled off, you missed them. Man, these were going to be a long 3 days.

. . .

"Mi Vida! Mi Amor! Ven Mira!!" not even a second into the apartment and sloan was barreling through the door covered in dust and dirt from the site, not even bothering to clean off their coat as they stumbled into the kitchen where they found you. "While I was searching an area in the site, I found something that dated back nearly 200 years! This was the biggest discovery in ages!" You gasped and threw yourself into Sloan's arms, praising them telling them how happy you were for them to be back. "Look look! The discovery made the paper and news! They didn't let me keep the artifact but I was on the front cover of the paper! How cool is that!?" You were beaming so hard, proud of them, their discovery, and their return, you stared at the paper thrust into your face and read about three words before noting your lover's hands, covered in dirt.. And nail polish chipped. "Sloan. I'm so incredibly happy and proud for you but.. I need to fix these.. " They pulled a hand to their face and chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of their head. "Yeah, guess the artifact and my nails have one thing in common." you tilted your head quizzically. "And what's that?" "We both didn't come up in pristine condition!" Oh how you loved your goofball. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ*✩‧₊˚

As always, feedback is welcome and requests and critiques are appreciated!!

[lostloveletters]

Love Like an Ache in the Jaw (John Brady x OC)

Summary: Kate "Woody" Woodward isn't quite sure what to make of love when she's finally got it, presented to her with unwavering devotion by the freshly promoted Captain John Brady.

Note: This is an expanded version of With a Rose Between Your Teeth (Is That Blood in Your Mouth for Me?) Title comes from Sweet Dreams, TN by The Last Shadow Puppets. Also, a million thanks to Kara @karasnonsense99 for letting me ramble about these two all the time ilysm🖤 Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Inevitable historical and technical inaccuracies. Depictions of blood. Sexually explicit content involving oral sex (m. receiving).

The shining double bars on his collar said it all, catching the sunlight as he walked over to her on the tarmac. Unprecedented pride bubbled up in Woody’s stomach at the sight of him, and for a careless moment, she allowed it to boil over into a congratulatory kiss on his cheek. John didn’t protest, his hands on her waist, kissing her as best as he could with his lips pulled into a smile. Whispered about going out that night to celebrate. Not alone. Never alone, but typically with good enough company that she didn’t mind.

They were joined by most of his crew, guys she’d gotten to know well enough by virtue of hanging around John, but she managed to talk Darla into coming along when Holly declined her invitation, a regretful tiredness in her smile when she insisted Woody go out without her. But her fellow mechanic was fun, if not a little rowdy—perfect for a night of celebrating.

In all honesty, the night panned out to be a bit tamer than she’d been expecting. She zoned out from Hoerr and Hambone’s argument over whether Rita Hayworth or Betty Grable had better legs. John didn’t hesitate to input his preference for Hayworth, something Woody occasionally teased him about, asking if she should dye her hair red just to watch his ears burn the same color. Always muttered something about liking her the best, taking her into his arms and kissing her as if she needed the reassurance she wouldn’t lose him to the likes of the bombshell actress.

No, the conversation being held behind them caught her attention, a man musing at the billiards table over finding someone to play eight-ball with, having just been paid and ready to supplement his payday. Her fingers twitched as she brought her cigarette to her lips, inhaling as her mind raced. She’d played plenty stateside, back when she was still going by Kate.

Woody wasn’t sure what the hell he meant by quid, but her serpentine confidence slithered over the necessity of understanding exactly how much was on the table. When the car business was slow, hustling pool had been her next best bet. Good enough that she was sure even after two years of eschewing such habits, she would come out on top. 

She turned around in her seat, and before she could stop herself, said, “I’ll play you.”

An RAF pilot and his buddies. They shared incredulous looks, snickering amongst themselves until one chuckled, “That would hardly be a fair game.”

“Double it.”

“I beg your pardon?” he asked.

The corners of her lips twitched, and she snuffed out her cigarette in the ashtray in the middle of the table as she stood up. “Whatever you’re betting, double it, if you’re so sure.”

The voices at the table fell to a hush, and she felt John’s fingers brush the small of her back through her blouse, as if to give her an out if she wanted. Too late. She let the beast rear its ugly head, forked tongue and all, as she stared down the pilot. He relented, holding out the pool cue for her. Probably figured it’d be an easy win. Line his pockets with her misguided cockiness.

Woody grabbed the cue. Watched with curiosity as they set up the rack, placing the eight ball at the foot instead of in the middle. Licked her lips as she realized there may have been differences in the way the British played than how she was used to, but she wasn’t about to betray her own ignorance by asking what exactly the rules were.

Instead, with a deceptively bored-sounding self assurance asked, “So am I stripes or solids?”

He considered her for a moment. “Stripes.” Motioned to the table. “Ladies first.”

She scoffed, cooly rolling her eyes at his false chivalry as she leaned over to break the rack. Spared a glance at John, his arms folded across his chest, watching her with an intensity that nearly sent a shiver down her spine. She hit the cue ball, sending stripes and solids across the felted table.

Standing up straight, she followed the striped ten as it rolled into a corner pocket. Missed the next one, but so did the pilot, and it was her turn again. She made up for her sloppy performance with nine and twelve in another corner pocket. 

Woody stalked around the table and leaned over in front of John, making a bit more of a show than was necessary in shifting her hips to make the hit. Fourteen in the middle pocket. Looked over at him, the slightest smile on her face when they locked eyes. Everything else faded into the background, white noise and static compared to the way he was looking at her. 

Acutely aware of his attention, drinking in the sight of her as she leaned over every so often, deliberately biting her lip or sticking her tongue between her teeth just to see his reaction, playing a different game entirely by the time she hit all of the stripes into the pockets, finally finishing off the eight ball.

Darla laughed. “Goddamn Woody, I didn’t know you could play like that.”

“She must’ve cheated somehow,” the pilot said dismissively to his friends, as if she weren’t even there.

“Jesus Christ, these guys,” Hambone muttered.

“There’s no way she could have cheated,” John said. “Be a man and pay up.”

“Or what?”

Woody shot him a glare, leaning against the cue. “Or I’ll shove this up your—”

It happened so fast. Too fast. Before she could even blink, a wad of spit landed on her face. 

John grabbed Woody’s shoulder, pushing her behind him. Scraping chairs and mangled shouts drowned out the music playing from the jukebox. She wiped the spit off of her cheek with the back of her hand, cringing as she shook it out. Her stomach sank. Why the fuck did she say that? Lost herself for just a minute, let herself be the person she tried to leave behind in San Francisco, and it all went to shit, like everything Kate touched tended to do at some point.

Her eyes frantically searched for John in the fight that erupted. The sinking feeling in her stomach warped into something else entirely at the sight of him, taking a punch to his jaw before throwing a solid one in return. Always found guys who fought for their girls teeming with unearned bravado, something to prove. But John’s bravado had been wholly earned. Proved himself with his promotion to Captain, which he was putting in jeopardy on her behalf. More than that, it looked good on him.

Still, she wouldn't let him bear the brunt of her mistake if she could help it. She shuffled forward, narrowly avoiding an elbow to the face as she grabbed his arm.

“John, come on! He’s an idiot!”

She practically had to wrestle him away from the chaos and into the bathroom. A cramped space with peeling paint and a naked lightbulb that almost didn’t let her close the door behind them until she forced it shut.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

Water poured freely from the faucet. She watched as he splashed some in his mouth, swishing it between puffed up cheeks. 

“People might think we’re in love or something.”

He spit into the sink. Water pink with blood pooled at the rusty drain. It dripped from his chin as he stared her down with blown out pupils, reflecting her own unspoken desire. “We are.”

She reached out and wiped his chin with the pad of her thumb. Glanced at the glistening residue on her finger before sticking it in her mouth, letting the faint coppery taste settle sweetly on her tongue. 

“Yeah. We are.” 

And all at once she was consumed by it, the fiery desolation of being loved and loving in return. Made her skin burn, feel more alive than she had in months. No wonder it made people go crazy. Like him, her calm and collected pilot who suddenly didn’t hesitate to throw punches over a woman with no honor to defend except for the fact that he loved her. 

He loved her.

She kissed him with a ferocity that forced him to grip the sink to keep himself steady. The faint traces of blood still in his mouth sent an almost vampiric fervor through her. Brought her hand up to his neck and felt the way his Adam’s apple bobbed at her touch. Always privately lamented that she couldn’t mark up his throat the way she desperately wanted to, sink her teeth into him and let everyone know he was hers.

She wanted more of him. Always more. Lowered her hands to unbuckle his belt.

“Sweetheart, what are you—”

“Got that handsome face of yours roughed up over me,” she rasped, pressing her lips to his jaw as she unzipped his pants. “‘S the least I can do, Johnny.”

He uttered a low ‘fuck’ as he watched her drop to her knees in the tight space. Nuzzled her nose against his crotch, the dim lighting nearly concealing the playful smile that's spread across her lips. She pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees. He swallowed roughly, licking his lips in anticipation. 

She spit into her palm, then took his cock in her hand, wet and calloused as she pumped his length. Pressed a kiss to his head before wrapping her lips around it, her tongue warm and inviting. He threaded his fingers through her hair, his blunt nails scratching against her scalp. 

She watched him intently, his face contorting with pleasure as she took more of him in her mouth. Noticed with obsessive observation what made him moan louder or tug on her hair a little harder. All of the noises he made echoed in the cramped space, and only served to drive her wild, give her more motivation to bring him to climax. 

Her fingernails pressed crescent-shaped marks into his thighs when he thrust in her mouth. Didn’t matter that her jaw started to ache a little, lips were probably swollen and puffy. She wanted him to feel good, to know how much he meant to her, to use the memory of her on her knees in any fantasy he conjured up for himself in his private moments. She wanted to be it for him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he forced out, his voice low and gravelly. “I’m close.”

She choked a bit when he thrust harder, the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. It twitched against her tongue, pulsing and veiny, his length almost too much for her to handle when he came, her name falling from his lips like a prayer though she was the one on her knees.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised as she swallowed his cum, fondly stroking her messy blonde hair. “Such a good fucking girl.” Her body purred at his words, claiming her with a gentle ownership she keened at the thought of. 

She figured she loved him for much longer than just that night, except she hadn’t realized because it felt so different from the way other people described it. Not particularly soft or sweet, but it made her feel powerful, alive.  Like staring down everything she feared and finally feeling able to conquer it all instead of running—she was so damn tired of running.

He offered his hand, pulling her up from the floor. His lips brushed her cheek, adoration pouring from the simple gesture of affection. “I love you,” he whispered against her warm skin.

“I love you too.”

Woody leaned against the door, catching her breath as John pulled his pants back on. Took a look at himself in the mirror, straightening himself out to appear every bit of the no-nonsense Captain who had her wrapped around his finger. 

Turning around, he gave her a once over, taking in her ragged appearance in comparison.

“Your nylons—“

She looked down, finding a tear at the knee. “I don’t give a damn. Let’s just get outta here, Johnny.”

“You sure?”

“We can sneak out the back and spend the rest of the night alone. They all probably think we left already.”

“Sounds like you have somewhere in mind.”

Woody smiled, turning the knob to crack the door open, checking if anyone would notice the two of them slipping out together. Taking his hand in hers, she gently squeezed it. “I might.”

[daylightonelmstreet]

(Tw: brief mentions of suicidal ideation)

Okay but can you imagine Freddy Krueger trying to terrorize Gen Z.

Because he likes killing in personalized ways. Ways that prey upon fears, which give him power. Sure, there’s the basic nightmare material; trying to run but unable to move or scream, falling, etc; but I doubt that’s enough to emotionally scar someone.

Furthermore, I feel like our tolerance for the macabre has increased over the years; movies have more advanced effects, we have access to entire genres of home brew horror such as VHS tapes and creepypastas.

So imagine Freddy trying to capture the worst fears of young adults now a day. And then it’s stuff like climate change. Being unable to afford living. Losing human rights. A lot of passively suicidal and depressed individuals who aren’t fazed by the thought of dying.

IMAGINE telling your friends, “I had the worst dream last night; I went to get a loan for my house payment and the banker was this really weird dude in a striped sweater and fedora. He denied my loan, and I spent forever arguing with him why I qualified.“

“No way; in my dream there was a guy in a striped sweater too. He just threatened to kill me with his Wolverine knives and he seemed really confused when I wasn’t upset by that. When I told him he’d be doing me favor, he LEFT.”

Anyway these are my late night thoughts, pardon my rambling :_)

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

A Slice of Life

[A Financial Office, Minato City, 12:39pm]

Advisor: Alright, that should be about everything...

*Two figures sit in the office of a financial advisor agency; a space cluttered with stacks of paper and a few framed certificates on the wall. A worn desk separated her from the Financial Advisor himself, a man in his late fifties. His glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he reviews the paperwork spread out before him.

Financial Advisor: So, Mrs. Tendo, it looks like you’re in a pretty good spot. You’ve been contributing steadily to your pension for years, and between that and your savings, you should have a comfortable cushion...Um...

*SNOOOOREE...*

Advisor: Um...Mrs...Tendo?

*SNOOOOOREE...*

Advisor: Mrs. Tendo!

*POP!*

Bah...!?

*The middle-aged woman sitting opposite him lazes back in her seat, having somehow entered a deep sleep at some point through the conversation. The Advisors probing wakes her up, and she rubs her eyes.

Ah...sorry...I've been losing sleep these last few nights...

Advisor: That's a shame...Were you perhaps worried about our meeting today?

Not really...It's just part of life, and I'm getting old...

Advisor: Would you...like me to repeat what I said?

No. I still heard you. You said that between my contributions and my savings, I should have a comfortable cushion...Right?

Advisor: Um...yes...but how did you-?

Comfortable. That's the word everyone uses...the goal they all assume we should strive for. But I wonder what comfort really means?

Is it just about having enough money to get by? Or is it something more, like finding a way to fill the empty hours?

Advisor: Um...Mrs. Tendo?

Ah, never mind...Like I said, I'm getting old. I'm rambling like a moron.

In any case, that's good to hear. I’ve always been a saver. My husband used to joke that I’d hide pennies under the mattress if I could.

Advisor: Well, that’s paid off. You’ve got enough to start thinking about your next chapter, whether that’s traveling or just enjoying some hobbies without worrying too much.

Hm...

You know...I’ve been thinking a lot about what comes next...I mean, I'm happy for retirement and all, but...I feel like I've not got much else to do these days.

Advisor: Pardon for the personal questions, ma'am, but...do you have any family? Maybe you could spend time with them?

Nope. I used to live with my husband and my daughter...I lost both of them during the Tragedy.

Advisor: I see...My apologies, ma'am.

Psh...Don't worry about it, it's not like YOU killed 'em...

Advisor: Well, I suppose it was rather cathartic for you then when the perpetrator for the Tragedy was brought to justice.

...Why would that be?

Advisor: Huh? W-Well...

You heard about what happened up in Hiroshima not too long ago, right? That factory explosion?

Advisor: Yes, I did.

Well, rumor has it that that explosion was part of a bigger conspiracy, which is why the Future Foundation actively involved themselves in suppressing tensions. And many are saying that Junko Enoshima is back, thanks to some leaked info from inside.

Advisor: Um...

Not to mention the fact that Izuru Kamukura and Mukuro Ikusaba, and everyone else who helped Enoshima, are still out there...It's hard to be totally at peace with all these rumors...

I mean, I don't know whether to believe 'em or not, but...it doesn't do my heart any good.

Advisor: I see what you mean. But unfortunately, I'm not the right person to help dispel your beliefs or worries. You'll need a different kind of consultant for that.

Right...

My original point was...after all these years of routine, it’s hard to imagine starting fresh, you know? I’ve always been the one holding things together, keeping the house running, looking after everyone else.

Now that it’s just me, it’s…different.

Advisor: I get it. It’s a big change, and it’s not just about money. But think of it this way. You’ve built something solid here, a foundation. Now, you get to decide what you want to build on top of it. No rush, no pressure.

I suppose that’s true. Maybe I’ll give that book club a try. At the very least, it’s something different.

Advisor: I think that’s a great start, Mrs. Thompson. And remember, you’ve got options. Financially and otherwise. You’ve earned it.

——————————————————————

...

*The Saturday morning sun filtered through the canopy of trees lining the town square, casting dappled light on the stalls of the local farmer’s market. The air is thick with the scent of fresh bread, ripe apples, and earthy herbs. Hanami navigated her way through the familiar aisles, her woven basket tucked snugly under her arm.

Hey, Fushimi. You in?

Fushimi the Baker: Ah! Well, if it isn’t my best customer! I set this one aside for you, Hanami. Fresh out of the oven this morning!

*Fushimi gives Hanami a loaf of her favorite sourdough.

Heh...You know me too well. That's a bit dangerous, huh?

Fushimi: Oh come on, what kind of man do you take me for? Besides, it's not like I'm the only one who recognizes you in this part of town. So, what’s new with you? Still walking those same early morning routes?

You know me...I like to stick to what I know. Though…I did get invited to a book club the other day. Still thinking it over.

Fushimi: Now that’s something new. You should go for it! Can’t live on bread alone, right?

...But I like bread.

Fushimi: Hah! Yeah, well, me too! In case me making a profession out if it didn't make that obvious!

——————————————————————

*SNOOOORE...*

???: You really should stop doing that.

Ah!?

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 27 - Prompt: Answer @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 858 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

When the night turned from just another pub crawl to his first actual date with Remus, Sirius couldn’t be happier about it. He’d expected to get pissed and aimlessly follow James and his brother home, but instead, he was nearly sober and holding Remus’s hand while they smoked. It was nice.

Leaned back against the brick, he couldn’t help grinning at the twist of events. When he and Remus ran into each other in the park, Sirius wouldn’t have given the bloke a second look if he hadn’t greeted his dog by name. Now, he couldn’t stop looking at him.

The details he’d see then were the same, of course. His eyes and those lovely crinkles around them still magnetised him. The golden brown curls still fascinated him. The scar that bisected his nose still made him look interesting.

Only now, Sirius could trail his finger over the scar and ask about it. He listened intently to Remus’s rambling explanation about his history with chronic inflammation that triggered joint pain, bouts of vertigo, and fatigue. About the “incidents” that led to his inability to drive and one particularly gnarly accident that scarred his face, hands, and chest. His fingers itched to explore the rest of them, but that was too morbid to admit.

“Are you going to answer or…” Remus trailed off, turning away to release a stream of smoke.

Sirius blinked rapidly, then shook his head. “I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

“I said, ‘What did you ask James?’ When we were dancing?”

“Oh. Nothing important, just checking in,” Sirius replied, flicking the ash from his cigarette.

Remus quirked an eyebrow, then lifted their joined hands. He freed one finger to tip Sirius’s chin up. “Don’t make me call you a ‘liar,’ Sirius. We both know how that ends.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Maybe not, but you’re not telling the whole truth either.”

Sirius took a long haul of his cigarette before rubbing out the dying cherry on the wall. “Fine. I asked him the same question that you asked me. Why I was defending you to yourself.”

“Because you didn’t know or-”

“No, because I was tipsy and I have a tendency to…spout off a bit when I drink,” he admitted. “Checking in with James is my version of ‘touching grass.’”

Remus cleared his throat. “Ah, so what did he say?”

“Well, my brother was more forceful than James, but both of them demanded that I tell you I like you and snog you senseless, so I did.”

“Remind me to tell them ‘thank you,’ yeah?” Remus teased.

Sirius bumped his shoulder and grinned. “Clever gits, aren’t they?”

“Definitely.”

“Now I have a question. Why didn’t you introduce yourself at the rink that first day? Or last week when you saw me here? Or any day since?”

“That’s three questions.”

“Oh fuck off. It’s only one, with addendums!” Sirius protested.

Remus huffed a laugh and shook his head. “You’re taking the piss, right? Have you seen yourself? Looked in a mirror lately?”

Before Sirius could respond, Remus reached out and mussed up his hair. He squawked, then snagged Remus’s beanie, tucked it in his back pocket, and ruffled his curls.

“I’ve wanted to do that all week,” Sirius grumbled, leaning up on his tiptoes as he tried to make some sense out of Remus’s hair. “It should be a crime to hide pretty curls under an ugly hat.”

Remus grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, well. I know it needs a trim, but I hate how it looks freshly cut, so I avoid it as long as possible.”

“Then you need a new barber.”

“I mean, I am my barber, so-”

“Pardon?” Sirius interrupted. “Do you know how or are you just hacking away at this?”

“I wouldn’t say I know what I’m doing exactly, but-”

Sirius stared at him with what must have been a truly horrified expression based on Remus’s immediate reaction. The bloke cringed, then ducked his head as a flush climbed his neck and dusted his cheeks. He reined himself in at once and sighed.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“No, no. You’re right. It’s just that nobody really cared, other than my mum, so I lopped off bits when they got too long.”

He was better prepared to mask his instinctual recoil at the words this time. Sirius had certainly given himself a fair few questionable haircuts over the years, including a rather unfortunate style involving a fringe of all things. As he’d discovered when Monty taught him how to cut James’s hair, curls required patience and a fair bit of skill. Neither of which Remus seemed to possess.

“Why not see a barber?” he checked.

Remus shook his head curtly, then shuddered. “I don’t like strangers touching my hair. It’s…invasive.”

“Oh. Well, if you want me to give it a go, I could-”

“Yes!” he exclaimed, then released an amused breath. Remus circled his waist with his arms and tucked his face into Sirius’s neck. “I mean, sure. If you want to.”

Sirius buried his fingers in the curls at the base of Remus’s neck and tugged teasingly. “Smooth. Real smooth, Remus.”

Next Part>>>

[a-boca-do-inferno]

a girl can dream (frank slade x reader) [request]

summary: Frank says something that leaves you shocked, to say the least.

warnings: none

words: 0.7k

Charlie had an annoying habit of convincing you to do questionable things for him, even if he didn’t ask; that also meant tagging along on a trip to New York with some challenged and grumpy man Charles was, in his own words, “looking after”. You didn’t know the details, and frankly—pardon the pun, it seemed to be better this way. 

After coming home from this fancy restaurant where Mr. Slade danced tango with a woman (yeah, that apparently happens with him), you all settled in his also incredibly fancy hotel room to chat and have a few drinks. Well, you and Frank had been drinking. Charlie didn’t dare to take a sip, always alert. It was funny, yet endearing to watch his concerned blue eyes coming up and down as Slade gulped one more glass of wine without ceremony. Holding your own glass—your first, while the man was perhaps on his sixth, you didn’t count—and staring at both of them, despite the uncommonness of the situation, you couldn’t help but feel happy to be in that little moment.

Late night conversations weren’t your thing, but that charming stranger with a pretty haircut was quite entertaining. Some would call Frank’s behaviour creepy, however you, with half a glass of wine in your system, thought nothing of it. His unseeing eyes lingered over your figure sometimes, as if they could see you clearly through the dim light in the room. Charlie remained quiet, letting Frank “do his thing” (again, in his own words) whilst he rambled on about his numerous romantic encounters over the years. And he looked delighted, actually, to be given the opportunity to gloat about the beauty of the women he had been with. 

“Oh, those curves…” Frank clicks his tongue, smirking as he gesticulates vaguely.

You snort, although something turns in your stomach as you look at his expression. Even his crudeness seemed to have a way of sounding appealing. You, at least, certainly wouldn’t mind being the object of such... fond memories he had of that one broad he was talking about. 

“And that’s my cue to leave”, Charlie lets out with a low chuckle, causing Frank to blurt out an unhappy grunt and furrow his brows, disapproving of his words. Your brother leans over to you, whispering, “don’t let him drink any more wine, he gets a headache in the morning but won’t admit it.”

“I heard that!” Frank states with a bit of a protest in his voice, which makes you smile. You watch Charlie close the door and your eyes fall on the lieutenant's face now staring at the wall behind you. His expression looks less enthusiastic, and that bugs you. With a heavy sigh, he reaches for your hand, “he worries too much about me. I don’t like it, I won’t break.”

“You know you’re like a father to him, don’t you?” You squeeze his palm back lightly, and he shifts in his seat, visibly affected by your observation. He knows you’re right. “It’s only natural for him to wanna take care of you.”

“Do you see me like that too, dear?” He asks after a moment of silence, and there’s the hint of amusement in his tone. Frank can’t help but snicker at your silent reaction. “You see me like a father?”

“You know I don’t, Frank”, it’s all you can formulate through your bashfulness. He raises a brow, as if urging you to explain better. You look at your hands intertwined and lean into him slightly. “You’re more like... a friend.”

“Hoo-ah, I’ve just been friendzoned!” You roll your eyes at this, your cheeks still flushed, and he laughs. “You break my heart, sweetheart.”

“Don’t play like that”, you giggle too, albeit still feeling shy. You felt like he was making fun of you, and whether you admitted it to yourself or not, you did have a little crush on him. It was stupid, sure, but a girl can dream. 

And then you hear him again. Your stomach tightens as he speaks. “Oh, I’m not kidding”, Frank’s rough fingertips trace your forearm tenderly, giving you goosebumps. He adds, lowering his voice and making it huskier, “you’re one hell of a catch, (y/n).”

Hoo-ah.

[barelytolerabled]

Dreams Unveiled

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: When a vivid nightmare surfaces, Spencer Reid finds himself confiding in you, his trusted colleague and friend.

Warnings: none

WC: 1.209

Taglist: @envraijesaispas @rosecentury @taygrls @thisismeraki @thenerdthatwrites @bigbunnygucci @jordie-gvf @cynbx @saturnstringz

"So I had a nightmare," Spencer Reid confessed, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "Ooh. Interesting. What was it about?"

Spencer's cheeks flushed as he struggled to find the right words. "It was... uh... a wet dream about you."

You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his candid admission. "That's... Pardon?"

"Look, I'm sorry," Spencer stammered, feeling his face grow hotter by the second. "It was just a dream, and I can't control what my subconscious conjures up. It doesn't mean anything, and I certainly didn't mean to make things awkward between us."

You took a moment to process Spencer's words, a mix of surprise and amusement dancing in your eyes. You crossed your arms, a playful smile forming on your lips. "Well, Dr. Reid, you have quite the imagination."

"I swear, I didn't mean to—"

You interrupted him with a gentle laugh. "Relax, Spencer. I understand dreams can be weird sometimes. Besides, we spend so much time together, and it's only natural for our minds to wander, even when we sleep."

Spencer's tension eased slightly at your understanding response. "You're not mad?"

You shook your head, your smile growing wider. "Not at all. In fact, it's a bit flattering."

Spencer's eyes widened, his surprise evident. "Flattering?"

You stepped closer to him, your voice low and teasing. "Yes, flattering. It means you find me attractive enough to dream about."

Spencer's mouth went dry as his brain struggled to process your words. This conversation was taking an unexpected turn. "Well, I mean, you are attractive, but that doesn't mean—"

You placed a finger on his lips, effectively silencing his rambling. "Spencer, I understand that dreams don't always reflect reality. But if you ever want to explore any fantasies outside of your dreams, you know where to find me."

A mix of excitement and nervousness coursed through Spencer's veins. He had always admired you, your beauty, and your intelligence, but he never expected a conversation like this to take place. His heart raced, and his mind filled with possibilities.

"Are you serious?" Spencer managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you leaned in closer. "As serious as a heart attack, Doctor Reid."

Spencer's lips curved into a shy smile as he glanced into your eyes, the initial awkwardness fading away. "Well, then... maybe I should have more nightmares."

You laughed softly, your hand gently brushing against his arm. "Or perhaps you should let me show you that reality can be even better than your dreams."

Spencer Reid couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration and anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, his nightmare had turned into something unexpectedly wonderful. And as you both stood there, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the promise of an intriguing new chapter waiting to unfold

A few days after, you and Spencer Reid arrived at the BAU office slightly later than usual. The team glanced up from their desks, curiosity evident in their eyes. They had noticed the change in dynamics between you and Spencer over the past few days and couldn't help but wonder what had transpired.

Morgan was the first to speak up, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Well, well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living. Late night, huh?"

You exchanged a knowing glance with Spencer before answering, a playful smirk on your face. "Oh, you have no idea. Spencer here had a pretty intense nightmare last night, and he wasn't feeling too good. So, I took care of him."

The team's eyebrows shot up in surprise, their intrigue growing. Hotch, ever the stoic leader, leaned forward, his tone neutral. "Is everything alright, Reid?"

Spencer shifted slightly, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. "Yes, Hotch, everything's fine now. It was just a bad dream, but Y/N was kind enough to be there for me."

JJ, unable to contain her curiosity, chimed in. "What kind of nightmare was it?"

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks tinged with a slight blush. "They were...uh... not something I'm comfortable discussing in detail."

You exchanged a knowing glance with Spencer before answering with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "Let's just say it was a rather vivid one involving a lot of spiders. But don't worry, I took care of them too."

Garcia, who had been listening attentively, gasped dramatically. "My poor baby boy! I'll make sure to bring some extra coffee for you next time. Nightmares are no joke."

You chuckled, appreciating the team's concern and light-hearted banter. "Thanks, Garcia. I'm sure Spencer would appreciate the extra caffeine."

During the day, the team continued to express their support and concern, but they tactfully avoided pressing for more details about Spencer's nightmares. They understood the importance of privacy and respected your boundaries.

As the team returned to their work, you and Spencer settled into your desks, stealing subtle glances at each other. The events of the previous night were still fresh in your minds, and the newfound connection between you was palpable.

Throughout the day, you both carried out your duties as FBI profilers with the usual precision and focus. But there was an underlying current of shared secrets and stolen glances that added a touch of excitement to the air.

During lunch break, you found yourselves alone in the breakroom. Spencer glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I can't believe we actually told them about my nightmare."

You chuckled, taking a sip of your coffee. "Well, it was partially true. Just didn't mention the other details."

Spencer's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Right, the part where you took care of me."

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, friends take care of each other, right? Besides, it gave us a good cover story."

Spencer's smile widened, and he reached across the table, gently taking your hand in his. "Thank you for being there for me. You've always been amazing, but last night... it meant a lot."

You squeezed his hand, warmth spreading through your chest. "Spencer, I care about you. And I'm glad I could help. We're in this together, remember? It meant a lot for me too."

His gaze softened, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. "Yes, we are."

The rest of the day flew by, and as the evening approached, you and Spencer found yourselves walking side by side, leaving the BAU office. The shared experiences and newfound intimacy had brought you closer, and the bond between you was unspoken but strong.

As you reached your car, Spencer turned to you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you for taking care of me last night. I appreciate it more than I can express."

You smiled, stepping closer to him. "You don't have to thank me, Spencer."

He leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against your cheek. "I'm the lucky one to have you in my life."

With that, you bid each other goodbye, carrying the promise of a deeper connection and the anticipation of what the future might hold. The nightmare that had initially caused a moment of embarrassment had led to something beautiful—an unexpected journey of love and understanding that had only just begun.

[smolweeblets]

Taters

Karlach x Reader/Tav

A/n: I live temporarily. Back with another fandom. Small ramble note at the bottom.

Winter was just around the corner, causing the night air to chill as of late. You used to hate the cold, it reminded you of… less fortunate times. However, these days you've found yourself slowly being able to see the beauty of it, reason being your beautiful girlfriend, who’s kept you perfectly warm every night, safe and protected against any unsavory memories.

The amazing tiefling who's stolen your heart has kept you company for countless evenings, with each one feeling as special as the last. But this time you find yoursef pondering, a memory—or rather a word—that you couldnt quite shake off.

Taters.

It was just such a bittersweet moment for you both. You thought her family using words just for them was such a cute thing to do, it seemed to make Karlach so happy. It kicked some gears in your brain into motion, so much so that you happened to mindlessly utter it out.

“Pardon, love?” Karlach craned her head to look at you atop her chest.

“Oh– nothing, was just lost in thought–”

“Ah, well taters, either way” She grinned from below you.

Your heart melts a little inside of you. How was anyone allowed to be this cute? Yhe universe is unbelievable.

“Yeah… listen Karlach, ive been thinking about something” You trail off slightly, not quite sure on what you actually want to say.

Karlach tilts her head slightly to the side. A worried frown painting her features. “Something wrong?”

“No, I just… happened to think about your family… The language you had together, you said you were the last remaining speaker. I want to change that.” You held her hand as you talked, both for her reassurance and yours. You mindlessly toyed with it as you spoke.

Karlachs eyes widened.

“You want to kill me!?” She gasped incredulously. “I knew it was only a matter of time… I wouldnt mind if it was you though, make it quick” She stuck her bottom lip out and wiped a fake tear from her eye, while the other hand held yours to her chest.

You snatched your hand from where she held it and lightly bopped her on the forehead, looking only mildly amused.

“As if.” You scoffed lightheartedly.

Karlach grinned. “Of course, so what about my parents?” There was a faraway look in her eyes. Shes told you that she loves talking about her parents, but being a little sentimental about it was unavoidable.

“The uh… the language you had together, what other words did you guys have?”

“You want to know about the gibberish we spoke?” Karlach smiled, unsure.

“Yeah, it was a big part of your childhood, I want to make more good memories with those words… maybe with a family of our own.” You sunk your face into the firm muscle of her shoulder, partly because it was comfy, but partly to avoid looking at her, in case she didnt agree.

“I cant believe you just brought up the idea of a family before I could. How dare you.” The pitch of her voice raised towards the end. She narrowed her eyes at you.

“Oops” You giggle, face still smooshed against her skin.

“Hmph.” She scoffed. “Give me a moment to remember, im sure I can dig up some of them.” Karlach gazed at the ceiling, mind drifting back to her childhood.

“Lets see… chess… chess meant a kiss… Yeah, I think I remember being grossed out because I saw my parents giving each other ‘chesses’.” Karlach chuckles softly at the memory.

“Chesses? Thats… oddly fitting for a kiss.” You smiled. “What else?”

“Sheesh just give me a moment” Karlach pouts. “Cant let a woman think for shit in here” She huffs.

“So dramatic. Just take your time.” You rolled your eyes.

Karlach scoffs, but otherwise stays silent for a moment, collecting little anecdotes from her childhood.

“Hmm… Blankets were called ‘warmers’ I think”

“Simple and straightforward, I like it.” You grin

“Right?” Karlach laughs, a beautiful sound. You cant help but snuggle up impossibly closer into her. And she holds you just a little bit tighter.

“Then…” Karlach trails off slowly, hand unconsciously starting to pet your head. “Hm. Sorry soldier, cant remember any more right now.” Karlach sheepishly smiled.

“Thats okay, we can try again tomorrow. I think let's just sleep, i'm tuckered out”

“Sounds great.” She presses a kiss to your forehead.

~~~~~

The conversation is mostly forgotten by her, whose been busy with choosing only the best produce for you both at the market. She left before you woke up, hoping to surprise you, but it seems she got too caught up with haggling with the shop ladies, so that plan was out the window.

As soon as she enters your shared cabin, youre immediately clung onto her.

“Chess.” You peel yourself away from the hug momentarily to face her with a kissy face at her while pointing at your face.

Her brows furrows before they relax and melt into an expression of surprise and awe. She leans down to give you a small peck then envelops you in a large bear hug.

“Gods, have no clue how happy that made me” She grins widely.

“Yeah? Prepare to be happy a lot more then.” You preen at the feeling of being able to make her feel like this.

“Thats going to be difficult considering im already always happy when im with you.” Karlach looks at you adoringly. To an almost painful degree.

The emotions rushing into you felt a little overbearing. Your eyes narrow and your muscles stiffen. “Im getting cuteness aggression.”

“Im honored.” She smirks.

“Stop or else I will actually fall to the floor.”

“I cant, youre too amazing. But don't worry if you fall, ill make sure to nurse you better myself.” Her voice was teasing, but held affection all the same.

“Just stop talking to me.” You bat at her shoulder stiffly as your face sits in a lighthearted scowl.

“Alright, ill lay off from the sweet talk for a little bit. Just for now.” She relents.

“Somehow that makes it even worse. Im going to feed the pets. Bye.” You move robotically, movements restrained from the rush of the pure emotions.

Karlach chuckles to herself, used to your mannerisms. Youll be back, and in the meanwhile, she supposes she’ll be cooking breakfast for the both of you.

“Alright love, taters!” She waves. She takes the produce from the bags and prepares them to be cooked.

Not long after, she hears a loud crash swiftly followed by your voice.

“Im fine!” You hurriedly shout. God forbid she saw the mess you made from recoiling when she called you.

Karlach shakes her head as she continues washing the vegetables. You were one hell of a person, and she couldnt see herself with anyone else.

A/n#2: AGHHH I FINISHED ITTT. Listen I had an idea but I dont know how to actually write it. I guess its still cute but it has strayed from what i have envisioned. Started with the original prompt then turned into a sort of domestic bliss/banter thing? I dont know. Anyway, this became a shameless self insert but its okay because its my fic. also dont ask about the made up words im uncreative.

Sorry for the ADHD rant this is how I am when im supposed to be sleeping, till next time guys <33

[cod-dump]

Hope your head has stopped trying to commit a crime, so pardon my bothering.

This is the Simon Riley has a grave anon here with more concerning it! (because for some reason it randomly popped back into my head and I must share)

There's a new recruit about to be sent to train on the 141's base, but is delayed due to personal hardship. His grandfather had just passed, and he needed some time. This recruit never had a father, and his grandpa just filled that role so easily, so losing him was hard. Turns out, this recruit is also from Manchester and his grandpa is buried next to one "Lieutenant Simon Riley"

Recruit gives a brief salute to the "deceased" lieutenant as he asks him to be a good neighbor to Pop.

Once he's back on base, he's heard stories about "Ghost" already, even before being on base, when he first joined and was told where he would be sent to. He's nervous about meeting him, especially given he's a week late and doesn't know anything else. And it's during his first training session with his new lieutenant that really freaks him out. Ghost is in a sour mood, and snaps at this recruit after not recognizing him.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Private Tyler Maverick, sir." Ghost eyes him suspiciously.

"You're a week late. Better be for a damn good reason." Ghost clearly was not present at the base to be informed of why Maverick was late.

"Had to bury someone, sir." There's an awkward pause as Ghost stares at him. Ghost just grunts in response before turning away and pretty much ignoring Maverick the rest of the day. Later that day, around dinner, Maverick is told to meet the lieutenant in his office. When he enters, Ghost is leaning against the desk, arms crossed and given no hint of what he wanted Maverick for.

"You asked for me, sir?"

"Wanted to apologize for my comment earlier. I had only just rolled in the night before and didn't get briefed on the new recruits very long." Maverick shakes his head.

"Nothing I can't handle, sir. If I can't handle a comment about burying a family member, then I shouldn't be here." Ghost narrows his eyes in questioning.

"Doesn't make it right, though. Burying family is a nasty business." Maverick shrugs, not really wanting to go into the whole thing, but it seems Ghost has other plans.

"How you holding up? I hear you only had a couple days before being shipped out."

"Fine, honest. Been kept busy the whole time so I guess it hasn't really hit yet." Maverick nervously rubs at his neck, starting to see where Ghost was going with this.

"Some of us move on faster than others, especially depending on who they lost." Ghost comments, and Maverick wants to curl in on himself. He'd heard stories about Ghost's uncanny ability to read someone with pinpoint accuracy, but he never thought he'd be the subject of it.

"Lost my grandpa. He was more like my dad, never got to meet the real deal, ya know? Died when I was young. For a really long time, Pop was all I had. Mom worked all the time and I was an only child. Now I'm here, and he's buried and it all just feels so surreal but in a bad way. I don't know, but I'm okay, sir, honest." Maverick rambles, tripping over his words as he tries to rush up in case his little rant had upset Ghost.

"Yeah and I'm the bloody Queen of England. But, fine, I'll go with it for now. Tell me when it gets to be a problem, though. Can't have my soldiers compromised." Maverick nods.

"Yessir. And, if you don't mind, I never got to properly meet you, sir, so I never caught your name."

"Simon Riley." Maverick pales almost immediately as recognition of the name dawns on him.

"You all right?"

"It's got to be a coincidence." He whispers and Ghost cocks his head at him.

"What is?"

"There's a lieutenant buried next to Pop with the same name as you."

"Manchester?"

"Yessir. Hell, I even asked him to be a good neighbor." Maverick mutters the second sentence, hoping Ghost wouldn't hear it.

"S'alright, I'm a pretty quiet neighbor." If it weren't for the deadpan way Ghost had said it, or the absurdity of the situation, Maverick would have passed out right there.

"I-I'm sorry?" He asks between nervous laughs.

"Name Ghost comes from somewhere, ya know. Dismissed." Maverick has never left a room so fast in his life.

He does eventually get an answer, and loads more questions, about the grave from Gaz.

"Oh yeah, it's a long story. Don't worry, Private Bones is also a good neighbor, even if he is an alcoholic."

Maverick has officially decided to never question his superior officers ever again, and he ends up being the one recruit they can fuck around in front of because he'll just blink at them before going back to whatever he was doing and never mention anything again.

He definitely makes sure to tell Pop how interesting his neighbor is every chance he gets.

(this turned into an actual something, I'm sorry, didn't mean that to happen but it is what it is)

Adding Tyler Maverick to the list of recruits that Ghost has adopted unintentionally.

I love this!!

And I'm feeling much better than what I was this morning, thank you <3

[muddyorbsblr]

maintain our cover

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: To catch a suspected serial killer, you and Magnus go undercover in the sex club the suspect frequents to choose his victims. You knew you'd have to partake in the activities with an attendee or two. You didn't expect that he'd want you to partake in them with him.

Pairing: Older Magnus Martinsson x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, get on outta here); public sex; fingering; unprotected p in v; language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: slight age gap (10+ years, no more than 15); bit of a power imbalance bc of their ranks; coworkers to lovers; translations in the A/N

You adjusted the bust of your dress--if you could even call it a 'dress'--for the umpteenth time in the last hour, waiting nearly impatiently for Detective Superintendent Martinsson to swing by and pick you up to go to No Holds Barred. The establishment was an adult entertainment shop that held quasi-frequent gatherings--mixers, really--for couples and singles alike to enjoy and even partake, if they were up to it.

Tonight, according to your intel, would be one of those gatherings. And there you would find Lars Anderssen, your prime suspect for a series of killings that targeted women from their late teens to their early 30s, each victim's body posed in a lewd manner completely devoid of respect for them.

You were the one to discover that the women were connected through their membership to No Holds Barred, and that they were posed in such manners based on the preferences that they had with their sexual partners in these gatherings.

"Y/N, babes, much as I adore this getup on you and I'm sure you're about to have even Mister Detective Superintendent Stick in the Mud a little tongue-tied, how sure are you that this serial killer would come after you?"

You turned to face Stella, your sister and partner in all the bouts of mischief you'd partaken in throughout your life, fiddling with the flimsy mesh fabric of the near see-through lingerie dress you'd chosen for the event. "In truth none of us are sure that Anderssen would go for me. I fit the age range, sure, but that's about all that we know on his victims. That and that they were all last seen in No Holds Barred on a night of one of these sex parties."

"So what's the plan if he doesn't go for you?"

"We follow him when we see him and hopefully save the potential next victim from his grotesque murderous display of slut-shaming. We have contingencies, sis, don't worry."

"And how do you plan to keep your cover intact?"

"Pardon?"

"Babes, you're going to a sex club. There's an unspoken expectation for you to be fucking someone tonight." You blanched at her words. "Are you sure you and Mister Pants Too Tight He Can't Unclench His Arse Cheeks are comfortable enough with each other to—"

"Oh fuck, no I'm not shagging Martinsson," you chuckled nervously. "We're splitting up when we get to the party, looking like a couple that's trying to explore a more open relationship, and then we'll both keep an eye out while we're…staying in character. I told you, we have contingencies." You faced your reflection again, fussing with your hair and wiping off your vampy lipstick to try on a Snow White red shade. "Besides," you rambled. "He wouldn't go for me even if it was to stay in character. Pretty sure he can't stand my presence."

You did your best to sound indifferent as you said it, but the pointed look your sister shot you told you that the bitterness still slipped through the cracks.

"Well regardless, I know that you have a job to do and everything, bad guys to put behind bars and all that. But I hope you get to have a spot of fun tonight. Maybe have a nice little tryst with a handsome stranger. Lord knows your sex life's so dry people probably think you live in a nunnery," she chuckled, walking over to help you with your hair, ruffling it to add some body and a sultry 'disheveled' look.

The sound of sharp knocking at your door nearly made you draw a line of lipstick up your cheek. "Bloody fuck, even his knocking is uptight," you grumbled, walking over to the door to reveal Martinsson on the other side, the sight of him in a tailored navy blue suit with the white dress shirt's top two buttons undone to reveal an unsurprisingly well-defined chest with a light smattering of chest hair peeking out nearly making you stumble in your ridiculous stilettos that you'd borrowed from Stella.

"Detective Y/L/N," he addressed you tersely, nodding once and making you resist the urge to roll your eyes in his presence. He held out an earbud for you to take. "The team will be monitoring the venue; they'll be on standby in case Anderssen attempts to run."

You took the device from his hand and made quick work to secure it within your ear, grabbing your coat from the hook and shrugging it on. "Thanks. At least if Anderssen tries to make a play for me I'll be able to tell you where we're headed and hopefully you all can get to me before I die a humiliating death in this." You gestured as you both made your way toward the car that the department had rented, eyes widening when Magnus walked to the passenger side of a sedan limo and opened the door for you.

Before you folded yourself into the seat, he wrapped his hand around your arm, halting you on the spot. "He won't get that far, I promise you. I will keep you safe." A few agonizingly long silent moments passed before his hand traveled down the length of your arm, briefly wrapping around yours before he cleared his throat. "Erm, you look--"

"Like a whore?" you finished, trying your best to inject a touch of humor in the tense atmosphere you always seemed to find yourselves in. "That's kind of the point. He targets women he deems 'too promiscuous to live' so might as well make sure I practically have a red neon sign pointed at my tits."

His face showed visible discomfort, clearing this throat again before responding. "I was going to say you look like a temptress."

You didn't bother to hide how taken aback you were at his words. "I'll take that as a compliment," you muttered, maneuvering yourself so that you could make your way into the passenger seat, all too aware of his borderline imposing presence barely a foot away and the way his hand loosely held yours to help in case you lost your footing.

With the way your heart was hammering in your chest, you were surprised to hear his husked reply before he closed your door. "I meant it as a compliment, sweet girl."

The drive to No Holds Barred was a nauseating mix of quiet and tense, all the way up to when he'd parked the car near the surveillance van that the team had set up and you finally felt a wave of relief when you could hear your fellow detective Irene speaking into your comms.

"Keep safe, you two. Call for us if you need any backup."

"Thanks, 'Rene," you murmured, doing your best not to let your lips move as you spoke while handing off your coat to the attendant at the door.

"Bloody fuck, you're going to turn a lot of heads in that. It's practically a screaming blazing red neon sign at your lady bits, Y/L/N. Keep extra safe because I'm positive Anderssen's definitely coming after you looking like that."

You had to stifle your chuckle as you walked over to the receptionist holding a clipboard, you assumed it was to register your names. "Welcome to No Holds Barred. Are you two here exclusively together or are you open to--"

"We're here together," Magnus cut her off, signing what you hoped were phony names in the guest list before walking deeper into the establishment with his hand wrapped around yours.

She looked back at you with an amused look in her eyes as you mouthed the word 'Open' as you walked away from her.

The gasp that escaped you when you surveyed the room was thankfully drowned out by the thumping sensual beat of the music blasting through the sound system. However, you did have to lower the shock on your face as you looked through the attendees, all of them in various states of undress and indulging in the carnal nature of the party.

One woman was sitting wantonly on a chaise with her legs spread as one man had his head between her thighs, head bobbing with his tongue visibly running up and down her folds. Not too far away there was another woman on her hands and knees on a large round ottoman with her dress hiked up to expose her ass while a man clad only in dress slacks pulled down to the middle of his thighs rutted into her from behind.

Magnus lightly squeezing your hand abruptly brought you back to reality, your gaze meeting the older man's, visibly flustered by the display of lustful abandon all around you. You had to remember your cover of 'being together' to keep yourself from showing your surprise as he brought your joint hands up to his lips. "We'll have a better vantage point if we watch out for him upstairs," he murmured before tilting his head down and placing a kiss to the inside of your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours as he did so.

"Right," you breathed out, looking away from him and eyeing the crowd as you both made your way up the stairs. "No sign of Anderssen so far," you noted, doing your best to keep your breathing even as you felt him settle up behind you from your spot overlooking the crowd, his hands on either side of your waist as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your almost completely exposed shoulder.

"You're both playing your parts perfectly," Irene's voice broke through the music blaring all around you, her commentary grounding you somehow and preventing you from losing yourself in the feel of your superior's lips on your skin. Reminding you that this was all a part of your facade. "Although, you could stand to look a bit more like you're exploring, Sir."

Your breath hitched as his arm wrapped all the way across your waist, his free hand ghosting along the length of your arm before threading his fingers through yours and pulling his lips away from your shoulder.

"Y/N, everyone's stealing glances at you," Irene spoke again.

"That's kind of the point, though," you muttered in response, lips unmoving. One sweeping gaze through the crowd had you quickly realizing that her usage of 'everyone' was barely an exaggeration; there were currently multiple pairs of eyes staring in your direction, as if they already suspected that you two were prudish impostors among their ranks.

"I think they're noticing that you're the only ones not watching. Or participating. You two need to do something now before you get thrown out and banned. If Anderssen doesn't show up tonight, we can't have you two on a 'persona non grata' list to muck up our whole operation."

"Well in that case," you gritted through your teeth, weaving your body out of Magnus' hold. "We best find someone to pass the time with. I'll keep an eye out for Anderssen and--"

As you began to walk away, you were abruptly pulled back into Magnus' arms, wrapping around you and cradling the back of your head as he laid his lips on yours in a fervent kiss. Your protests quickly died in a squeak at the back of your throat as his lips moved against yours with an apparent desperation, all the air leaving your lungs as he lifted you off the ground and walked to the other side of the corridor to pin you between his body and the wall.

"Magnus, what are you on?" you hissed, your moans silenced before they could escape you with the chilling knowledge that any sounds coming from the two of you would be heard by the team. He proceeded to press his lips along the column of your neck, and you watched in a daze as he took out his earbud before kissing his way back up to your mouth, framing your face as he did so to mask the covert removal of your own earbud, tucking both devices into his coat pocket.

His hands returned to your face, thumbs stroking across your cheeks as his eyes held an almost unreal mix of tenderness and lust as his usual steely blue was almost fully black with how blown out his pupils were. "Fulländning," he whispered, a slight smile tugging at the sides of his mouth before he leaned in once again, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before returning to your neck, his hands traveling down to slip between the thin mesh panels of your dress.

"This wasn't part of the plan," you moaned. "We were supposed to split up and--"

"If you must keep your cover with anyone here, it will be with me," he murmured against your skin, proceeding to bite and suck at a sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder that had you moaning both at the thrills that were shooting all throughout your body and the knowledge that this actions would surely leave a mark.

If even just for a few days, you'd have something to look at to remember a fleeting moment where you could pretend you were his.

"You've cut us off comms," you managed to choke before your head fell against his shoulder, groaning out his name as he began to roll his hips into yours, pressing his hardening length against you.

"Would you rather you be moaning into their ears as well, sweet girl?" he panted, pressing his lips to the corner of your jaw, your wetness intensifying between your thighs as you felt his tongue flicking against your skin. "Your moans are for my ears and mine only. At least for tonight. Let me pretend you're mine."

"Yours," you whimpered, finding yourself unable to really hear his words beyond 'you're mine'. If you two were going to be in the business of pretending tonight, then maybe you could let yourself pretend, even while you were maintaining your cover, that the words coming out of him right now were real.

Only now that would beg the question…why was he asking you to let him pretend in turn?

You struggled to keep your wits about you, to both keep an eye out for Anderssen and make sure that the suspicions from the other attendees had stopped in their tracks. No…and no. Numerous pairs of eyes were still eyeing the two of you…and the currently clothed state of your false lover.

"No one's buying it," you hissed, failing to stifle a moan when his hands began to caress your thighs, wrapping around the back of your knees to hook your legs around him before he pressed his hips to yours again, your moans getting muffled as he slanted his mouth over yours, his tongue slipping past your lips to glide against your own.

Any suggestion you had to split up to attempt to blend in died on your lips the moment one of his hands slid between you and his fingers began to rub between your folds over the barely there piece of fabric trying to pass itself off as 'underwear', the contact making electricity shoot through your whole body and coaxing you into relaxing into his touch, giving in to the pleasure you always imagined he was capable of subjecting you to hidden behind his stern work persona.

If his intentions since the moment he kissed you hadn't been clear, they were bloody transparent now. You were going to blend in with the attendees of this party. Participate in the carnal acts that these wanton people were indulging in.

With him.

"They will." His words were filled with promise as he moved the fabric of your panties aside, smiling into your kiss as his fingers met the slicked undeniable evidence of your desire. He broke your kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before growling out, "Mine" and sliding his two middle fingers inside of you, the sound of your piercing moan and the back of your head hitting the wall behind you finally getting suspicious pairs of eyes to turn away from you.

You knew that after this case, hell after tonight, you'd need to probably get the process going for a transfer out of the department. You'd never be able to look him in the eye again after this. Engage in conversation with him. Ride in the passenger side of his patrol car.

Not without your mind going back to this exact moment. Whimpering his name as he pressed his lips to your neck, his fingers inside you and curling to stroke against that sweet spot that had you seeing stars when you closed your eyes, walking that fine line separating you from falling into ecstasy. All the while he would call you his between kisses, fueling the memories that would soon become fantasies you'd lose yourself in at night, alone in your bed.

His gorgeous temptress. His sweet girl. His Y/N.

The fantasies you'd had of him saying and doing almost exactly these things, you could live with. You'd lived with them for as long as you've known him.

The memories would haunt you and fuck you over in your waking thoughts and your dreams if he was so much as breathing the same air as you.

"Come back to me," he grunted, his lips finding yours in a fevered kiss. "I can feel you slipping away, älskling. Stay with me." He kept repeating those words, stay with me, between each kiss. When you felt yourself getting impossibly close to your climax -- a feat you truly didn't think any man was capable of at least for you -- he pressed harder against you, pushing his fingers even deeper into you as his free hand took one of yours and placed it against his trousered cock, groaning as he began to roll his hips into your touch. "Feel me. Know what you do to me."

All you could do was let out a whimper of his name as he continued to kiss you wherever his lips could reach. Pleas for him to never stop stuck in your throat and only coming out in desperate cries.

"Come for me," he grunted, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I want to feel you come apart."

You let out an obscene moan that could barely be drowned out by the music, your walls convulsing around his fingers as he eased you off of your high with more languid strokes. A strange tenderness washing over the moment as you felt Magnus' free hand stroking your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Hold on to me, sweet girl," he commanded, the soft tone of his voice still managing to catch you off guard. Your hands weakly gripped at his shoulders, a whimper escaping you as he withdrew his fingers from inside you. Then it was as if the world stopped spinning as two things happened at once.

First, you felt him shuffling his pants down to the middle of his thighs, a moan dying in a weak whimper as you felt his hand lining himself to your entrance and making his way inside of you inch by torturous inch.

Second, your eyes scanned the crowd and landed on the reason you two were here in the first place.

"He's here," you  breathed out in a rush, your blood chilling as you stole another look at the killer. "And he's targeted me. We have to—" Words failed you the second he started moving inside you, the tip of his length brushing against a spot so deep inside of you that rendered you an incoherent wreck every time he brought his hips flush against yours.

"No." You looked at him in incredulity, the fierce possessiveness that was so evident in the way his brows furrowed together, the way his blackened orbs blazed as his gaze met yours, taking you aback. "You're mine. At least for tonight, sweet girl, you're mine." He reached into his coat pocket again, your eyes widening to a point of discomfort as you watched him securing his comms back in his ear.

"Magnus, what—"

He placed a hand over your mouth, holding you steady with his other hand on your hip as he continued to rock into you with languid movements. "Do you see him?" You could only hear his end of the conversation. "Follow him. Arrest him. Put him in holding for the night and we'll question him in the morning. And then turn off your feed into the club. That's an order."

You nearly considered it a good thing that he was keeping you quiet with his hand over your mouth, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to resist blurting out a cheeky little "Yes, Sir" with the tone he'd taken on.

When he placed the earpiece back in his coat, he moved his hand from your mouth to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that felt so full of need that it made you burn for him even more so than you already did. You held on to him with everything you had, refusing to break the kiss as his thrusts began to take on a merciless pattern, hands holding your legs open as he drew back from you until only the head of his cock remained inside of you, only to bury his entire length in you in one fluid thrust until your hips snapped together.

"Du är säker, min älskade. Du är säker och du är min." He hooked your legs around him once more, working his hand between you to where your bodies were joined and rubbing his fingers in torturous circles over your clit.

"Magnus, please," you whined, your hips bucking into his touch and pulling him impossibly deeper inside of you as you began to lose control over yourself from him overwhelming you. "I can't--"

"Yes, sweet girl, you can. You will." He pressed his lips to yours, moaning into your mouth decadently. As if you two were truly just here to be with each other, and nothing else. "For me."

Your legs shook almost violently as your walls quivered around him, the room around you blurring into near nothing once again as you did your best to recover from your high, all the while only vaguely aware of the feel of him flooding you with his own release. 

As your breathing began to even out, you buried your head in the crook of his neck, the lights suddenly becoming a little too bright and the music a touch too loud while you were trying to center yourself. And then it felt like your entire body began to moan and scream as you started feeling Magnus moving inside of you again in tentative, shallow thrusts. The only coherent word that could come out of you was a whiny utterance of his name.

"Y/N," he cooed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head in a manner that convinced you he seemed amused by the way you whined his name. "If this is the only time I get to make you mine, then I'm going to make it count."

You held on to him tighter, trying to breathe through the steady ramp up to another climax that he was already working you towards. "Do you really--oh fuck--want that?" It took nearly all your strength to lift your head and lean it against the wall behind you so you could look at him. "Do you want me to be yours?"

He leaned in for an impassioned kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth and gliding against your own as if he was trying to savor this moment with you before he answered. "More than anything."

You found no resistance left in you as a smile broke out on your face as you answered him, "Then I'm yours."

A/N: Aaaaand that's a wrap for Magnus Martinsson for this collection! Big thanks to bestie @lokiprompts for sending the song over because I can 100% picture them in the smut scene while this is playing and I am living for it 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Translations: Fulländning – Perfection älskling – darling Du är säker, min älskade. Du är säker och du är min. – You're safe, my love. You're safe and you're mine.

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