#and he knows no one is coming for him but he’s still sort of like.

[madamechrissy]

I'll look After You

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem reader (reader is a mom)

Summary: You longed to hear from Satoru, After an epic night hooking up in a club bathroom, sure you'd been strangers, but he has your number, he made you feel so special... but... he never contacts you again. Ten months later, you have a beautiful baby named Reign, with those exact blue eyes. You never saw him again, couldn't even find him, so now, you are living your life as a single mom. Messy bun, dark circles, exhausted, you run into Satoru one day, and he sees her, his baby girl, and sees you struggling, he knows then, you're what's been missing in his life.

CW: Going to be sweet and emotional, Satoru is a freaking doll, misunderstanding led to him not knowing (nothing is kept from anyone on purpose) Fluffy long oneshot where Satoru falls in love with reader and his little girl. Gojo being a dad and being cute! Will have smut at the end as all my oneshots do lol, so MDNI, and flashbacks to the original bathroom smut (will list all the warnings when it comes out!)

Preview below! Comment to get added to the taglist when it's out!! (Soon!!) <3

You often wondered about him, Satoru was his name.

As you look down at your baby girl, with her brilliant blue eyes while she’s cooing happily, giving you a gummy little grin, you wonder what he’d think if he knew about her. The random guy at the bar you gave your number to after hooking up in a bathroom, the guy who never called, the guy with no social media of which to speak. The guy you never, ever saw again.

Your baby’s father, the best thing that ever happened to you, surely, but also it was very difficult, being a single mom, you’d have to go back to work soon which you were dreading, spending sleepless nights up feeding, changing her. It had been a rough pregnancy, and a shocking one at that, people had questioned you over and over, some mentioned not having her.

But something in you knew you could do this, you could have this baby, you’re broke as fuck but she has all she needs, and she makes you so happy, but those eyes are unmistakable. No one has eyes like that, except her and her… well was he really her 'dad'? You wonder if he’d run ten million miles from you if he knew, or would he have been okay with it?

It’s odd that just a night of fun, alcohol and being on antibiotics created this amazing little girl, but you can’t be upset, not when she brightens your world. But you still ache at times, for her to have a dad, you hope you’re enough. You wonder about him though, the bright energetic man, the one that had made you feel more in one evening than anyone ever.

The last man you’d been with.

Yes, it’s been that long, Reign was two months old, so you’re damn near at a year, you say it’s because you’re so busy, but something deep in you knows that you felt something for him, deeper than the obvious physical. Something about how he looked at you, at how he laughed, at how he made you feel so special.

You assume it must have been some act, clearly, here you are, alone after all. You both only knew each other’s first names, it’s true, but he had that number. Maybe it wasn’t all you thought it was? Maybe he just was that sort of guy, the one that made women think they’re his everything with one of his kisses, maybe you were just too drunk, and he was too pretty.

You blink a bit, shaking the haze thoughts of him as you yawn a bit, exhausted from Reign keeping you up all night, her tummy had been hurting. You’re sleepily putting things in the cart, baby items, groceries, the essentials, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the produce, wincing then. You have a messy bun and are in pajamas, god help you if you ever wanted to meet a guy.

‘Oh hi, I have a baby with a random blue eyed dude from a bar, I’m broke as fuck, and I wear pajamas to the store. Wanna date?’

Yeah. That would go over well.

“It’s… it’s… you!?” You sleepily look up then, so exhausted you barely register the six foot three man for a moment, then suddenly it all hits.

He stares at you, those blue eyes, the eyes your baby has, wide now, his pouty pink lips dropped open. He’s just as gorgeous as you remember him, like it’s some dream, you feel weak then, chest rising and falling as your breaths come too quickly. He steps closer to you then, he hasn’t seen her yet, nestled in her little car seat on the cart, you’re panicking.

“Do you even remember me? Oh my god, that night my phone broke, and I had just got it, they couldn’t transfer the numbers! And I tried to look you up? But I couldn’t find you… and I never saw you… and then- fuck I’m rambling.” He laughs nervously, swiping his hand through his snowy locks. “Forgive me, please… what I mean to say is… Hi?”

“Hi…” Your baby whines then, and Satoru pauses, blinking and you move to the side then, he steps closer when Reign opens her eyes, grinning at him.

Satoru’s heart pounds in his chest, his entire world tilts on its axis, he was already so thrown off by seeing you again, the girl he hasn’t been able to stop thinking of, but now… he looks at you in shock, you look exhausted, but so beautiful, your eyes tear up then, he watches your shoulders slump, then he looks back at the baby, realization sinking in.

“She’s… is she… there’s no way…”

“She’s yours, I only hooked up with you for the past… year.” You manage to say softly, right in the middle of the fruit aisle, Satoru was finding out you have his baby.

“You did this alone?” He says then, blinking back emotions for a girl he barely knew, but who now has a part of him, a part he wants to know so badly suddenly, shocking him.

“I had no clue who you were, how to tell you, even if so, it’s not your responsibility okay? I take care of her just fine, I make it work.” Satoru’s heart breaks then, seeing how tired you are, seeing the endless baby items and cheap toilet paper, a cheap bottle of wine, is that all you get yourself?

You did this alone, you have his baby alone, altering your life while he’s living his just the same, partying with his best friends, working and living a luxurious life. Satoru was rich, and it’s clear his baby and his baby’s mother are struggling, and he’s here doing what? Could he have tried harder to find you!? Could he…

“We’re okay, you don’t have to worry. I’d never come for you for anything, I am happy being her mommy.” You say with a tired smile, reaching to touch her little chubby cheek, and Satoru has never seen anything so beautiful, the two of you.

He’s felt so empty for this year, is this what he was missing?

“Can I… please… can I know her?” He asks, gulping now, and you blink in shock, nodding quickly.

“I would love that.” You can’t stop your tears then, sniffling and shaking your head. “Please, let’s talk outside of the produce aisle?” You whisper, he nods quickly, unable to take his eyes off you, off his baby.

Coming sooon- based loosely on a request for @bunheadusa hehe, prob gonna be long I can't help myself.

perma tags- @alt--er--love @cuntphoric @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @aldebrana @n1vi Perma Gojo tags: @chiyokoemilia @haruhatake @strychnynegirl <3

[montag-guy]

“You know my name,” said Montag.

Granger nodded to a portable battery TV set by the fire. “We’ve watched the chase. Figured you’d wind up south along the river. When we heard you plunging around out in the forest like a drunken elk, we didn’t hide as we usually do. We figured you were in the river, when the helicopter cameras swung back in over the city. Something funny there. The chase is still running. The other way, though.”

“The other way?”

“Let’s have a look.” Granger snapped the portable viewer on. The picture was a nightmare, condensed, easily passed from hand to hand, in the forest, all whirring color and flight. A voice cried: “The chase continues north in the city! Police helicopters are converging on Avenue 87 and Elm Grove Park!”

Granger nodded. “They’re faking. You threw them off at the river. They can’t admit it. They know they can hold their audience only so long. The show’s got to have a snap ending, quick! If they started searching the whole damn river it might take all night. So they’re sniffing for a scapegoat to end things with a bang. Watch. They’ll catch Montag in the next five minutes!”

“But how—”

“Watch.” The camera, hovering in the belly of a helicopter, now swung down at an empty street:

“See that?” whispered Granger. “It’ll be you; right up at the end of that street is our victim. See how our camera is coming in? Building the scene. Suspense. Long shot. Right now, some poor fellow is out for a walk. A rarity. An odd one. Don’t think the police don’t know the habits of queer ducks like that, men who walk mornings for the hell of it, or for reasons of insomnia. Anyway, the police have had him charted for months, years. Never know when that sort of information might be handy. And today, it turns out, it’s very usable indeed. It saves face. Oh, God, look there!”

The men at the fire bent forward. On the screen, a man turned a corner. The Mechanical Hound rushed forward into the viewer, suddenly. The helicopter lights shot down a dozen brilliant pillars that built a cage all about the man.

A voice cried, “There’s Montag! The search is done!

The innocent man stood bewildered, a cigarette burning in his hand. He stared at the Hound, not knowing what it was. He probably never knew. He glanced up at the sky and the wailing sirens. The camera rushed down. The Hound leapt up into the air with a rhythm and a sense of timing that was incredibly beautiful. Its needle shot out. It was suspended for a moment in their gaze, as if to give the vast audience time to appreciate everything, the raw look of the victim’s face, the empty street, the steel animal a bullet nosing the target.

“Montag, don’t move!” said a voice from the sky. The camera fell upon the victim, even as did the Hound. Both reached him simultaneously. The victim was seized by Hound and camera in a great spidering, clenching grip. He screamed. He screamed. He screamed!

Blackout.

Silence.

Darkness.

Montag cried out in the silence and turned away.

Silence.

And then, after a time of the men sitting around the fire, their faces expressionless, an announcer on the dark screen said, “The search is over, Montag is dead; a crime against society has been avenged.”

Darkness.

“We now take you to the Sky Room of the Hotel Lux for a half hour of Just-Before-Dawn, a program of—” Granger turned it off.

“They didn’t show the man’s face in focus. Did you notice? Even your best friends couldn’t tell if it was you. They scrambled it just enough to let the imagination take over. Hell,” he whispered. “Hell.”

Montag said nothing but now, looking back, sat with his eyes fixed to the black screen, trembling.

Granger touched Montag’s arm. “Welcome back from the dead.” Montag nodded.

Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451°

[alchemistc]

Gonna be pissed as hell if Tim throws out a plotline to replace it with a three episode arc about LA on fire (what will Brad do when his house burns down?), which makes me a hypocrite and a half because here's some ripped-from-the-headlines bullshit.

Tommy's duffle lands on the bottom stair with a thump.

He glances around the space like he's seeing it for the first time - or maybe like he's just taking in the gravity of the situation. There's a quirk of his lip, an ironic shake of his head, and Buck can't quite stop himself from imagining the thought running through his mind. Despite his intentions, he'd landed here anyway.

They're both bone tired. Exhaustion seeping into their marrow, the kind of tired Buck hasn't felt like this since Texas, maybe. He wants a shower and about 48 hours of sleep.

"I'll take the couch," Tommy says, voice raspy, eyes refusing to draw towards Buck.

And the thing is.

The thing is Tommy definitely had other places to go. Other friends who would have put him up as long as he needed, people he trusted, people who cared about him. But it was Buck he'd found as things wound down, the both of them covered in soot and ash, Tommy dropping to sit beside him on the curb as they waited for relief teams to finish up at the command tent.

They'd stared at the burnt out husk of Tommy's home just long enough for the tiredness to really settle in.

"You're not taking the couch," Buck says, and flips the light switch in the downstairs bathroom. Tommy's shower gel is still under the sink, his fancy curl conditioner down to the last few dollops because he'd spent enough nights here to go through most of a bottle. They've already showered at their respective stations, but Buck knows from experience how much Tommy hates the Harbor showers ("You'd think a fire station would have better water pressure, but I'm telling you, Evan, it's about as strong as an eighty-year-old's dribbling piss.") and Buck knows he still feels like he's caked in days of grime.

"Evan," Tommy starts, and Buck can't read into that, refuses despite the way it knocks around in his chest.

"You need the rest just as much as I do," Buck argues, and Tommy's shoulders just... slump. He sighs. Nods his head. Shifts on his feet and accidentally catches Buck's eye.

The contact holds just long enough for Buck to see the tears swimming in Tommy's eyes, and he can't imagine -

It strikes Buck for maybe the first time how dumb he'd been to ask Tommy to move in here. Tommy had a life, a home, a place he'd spent a decade making his own.

He'd made a joke once about a firefighter living so close to the hills, the first time he'd had Buck over, that ironic lilt to his voice while he talked about replacing all the east facing windows the first time he experienced the Santa Ana's after moving in, and Buck had spent a good ten minutes watching the light fade from his backyard, dusk casting the hydrangea bushes in a rose-gold hue.

"If I hug you are you gonna make a break for it?" Buck asks, regretting the spiteful tone when Tommy curls further in on himself, but he ducks his head even as he's shaking it, and Buck doesn't fight the urge any longer, three long strides before Tommy's curling fists around Buck's waist and pressing his nose into the skin of Buck's neck.

("It's just stuff," he'd said, knee knocking against Buck's where they huddled together on the curb across the street, Tommy uncharacteristically fidgety as they both stared straight ahead.

"Come stay with me," Buck had responded, and felt Tommy tense so quickly he'd sort of expected him to bolt to his feet and leave.

Instead, the stillness eased out of Tommy's body all at once on an exhale, and he'd nodded out of the corner of Buck's eye. "Okay."

He hadn't quite been able to stop himself from reaching out to squeeze Tommy's knee. "Okay.")

Tommy's never been one to take more than his fair share. He breaks the hug before Buck can really get into it, sniffs once like Buck didn't notice the wetness against his neck, shifts backwards and sideways. He stops halfway through the doorframe when he catches sight of the canvas bag on the counter.

Buck just hopes Maddie actually bought the specific list Buck had sent her three hours ago. Tommy's particular about his stuff, and he'd pressed the point with his sister despite the eyebrow raise he could see in every text back she sent him. He can see Tommy doing the math - only so many people with a key to the loft, only so many people who weren't there in Tommy's neighborhood for a stretch of exhausting hours that hadn't amounted to much other than saving that purple house down on the end of the street that Tommy was always bemoaning for having a better garden than him.

"Tell Maddie thank you," Tommy says, still with that rasp to his voice that under any other circumstance would have Buck vibrating in place. When he digs through it, Buck catalogues his findings - that weird organic toothpaste Tommy swore by, the cheap electric toothbrush he refused to switch out for the better one Buck had a subscription to; a pack of briefs and socks in Tommy's preferred brand.

It's not the first time Buck has wished there wasn't a canyon between them, but he strikes the urge to quip, to smile, to reach out and try to comfort him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he digs it free, glances at the readout and immediately feels the ire rise in his throat again. It's from Eddie, a private response to the group message he'd sent out letting everyone know Tommy had a place to stay.

Is that a good idea?

And Buck gets the point. Understands that Eddie has his best interests in mind, but he's not here, hasn't been here, hadn't been there when they rolled down the street to find three houses already fighting the blaze.

Buck can't hold in the annoyed snort, and when he glances up it's to find Tommy's eyes on him.

"I'm gonna go shower," Buck tells him, and manages three whole steps before Tommy's hand curls around his wrist.

He doesn't seem to have the words to ask, but Buck reaches back to strip his shirt over his head anyway and shuffles them both towards the shower.

It's the least sexy thing they've ever done together, if he's being honest. Buck hasn't felt this tired in years, hasn't felt this grim in years, barely has the energy to do more than scrub at Tommy's back while he rinses his hair. Perfunctory, is a term for it, except for the way Tommy leans into the press of his fingers when he suds up Tommy's hair, except for the way Buck drops his forehead to Tommy's chest while Tommy aims the showerhead at Buck's back.

This is the kind of stupid shit Buck had meant, all those months ago, even if he'd done an extremely shitty job of expressing it. This is the kind of shit he'd pictured while Josh waxed poetic about some television show and wondered if Buck saw a future with Tommy.

By the time they're rinsed off and toweled dry Buck can barely stand, but as Tommy's footfalls echo just behind his up the stairs Buck has just enough sense left to roll open the drawer he'd never cleared out, toss Tommy a pair of clean briefs and one of his threadbare LAFD shirts.

Tommy stares at the drawer long enough for Buck to pull on his own clothes. He blinks himself out of it only when Buck stubs his toe wrestling the body pillow Tommy always pretended he wasn't going to end up curled around out from under the bed.

The drawer closes with an echoing 'snick'. Tommy tosses his own towel in the hamper and makes quick work of dressing.

His hair is gonna be a nightmare in the morning. They're both gonna be absolute messes. Buck's pretty sure the only food in this place is raw flour and approximately seventy-five chocolate croissants - he's pretty sure he used up the last of his eggs trying to perfect his meringue technique.

There's a stiff moment after they slide into bed where they both just lay on their backs and stare at the ceiling, oozing into Buck's mattress. Tommy shifts first, and Buck's sure it'll be away - no matter how often they fell asleep tangled together Tommy always ended up hugging the edge of the bed, and it's not like -

"Is this okay?" Tommy asks, even as he's shifting a leg over Buck, hands finding purchase in the cotton of Buck's sleep shirt.

It's like he's been dosed, for the way Tommy's body sliding into place next to his steals all the energy he has left in him. He blinks once, twice, manages to get a hand in Tommy's damp curls in response. The rest of it can wait for tomorrow.

"Evan?" He's sinking into it too, Buck can tell - the weight of his arm and leg pressing Buck further into the mattress, the drawl of Buck's name drifting instead of sharp.

Buck hums. Presses lips into whatever skin he can find without opening his eyes - a temple, or a cheekbone maybe. "Go to sleep, Tommy," he manages, but if Tommy responds he doesn't hear it.

[senipsenipsenip]

Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

[mosoderbergh]

Emmrich and the good old fashioned body heat trope

Ok, there’a a thing about Rook and Emmrich pre-romance and the “caught in the cold” trope that is just beautiful to me. Because it would go a lot more innocently than with other pairings. Emmrich is far too much of a gentleman. But that’s what makes this so cute. Like… hear me out.

Emmrich knows the importance of keeping warm and the advantages of sharing body heat. He’s the sort of man who would read up on survival procedures before venturing out into extreme weather.

But surely, a shirt is thin enough to not significantly hinder the transmission of warmth. Surely he couldn’t be expected to strip entirely. He gets rid of some layers, but stays buttoned up to his neck. (Rook is shirtless the moment the words “it might be advisable to, well, huddle up” exit Emmrich’s mouth. They notice Emmrich spends the rest of the night holding intently focussed eye contact.) They cocoon themselves in blankets, sitting by the fire, shoulder to shoulder, backs leaning against insert obligatory cave/cliffside/tree trunk here. Emmrich has read just enough bodice rippers that an image comes, unbidden, to his mind. Of a broad-chested hero gallantly drawing the object of his desire into his muscled arms as they shiver and swoon. He is shocked at himself when he feels a blush creep up his neck. To even allow such a thought! This is nothing like that. A dashing hero may be present, yes, but they are caught in the cold with a colleague several decades their senior. There is nothing swoonworthy about it.

Emmrich files the thought away, and despite the awkward situation, the evening goes on… really rather pleasantly. They end up talking for a good long while. Rook opens up about their own upbringing and Emmrich elaborates on his. They share nostalgic memories. Emmrich recounts some shenanigans from his student days, and Rook can’t believe there’s a mischievous side to him (the mischievous side in question was called Johanna, but Emmrich doesn’t speak her name).

At some point, the comfortable silences stretch out longer and longer. Rook’s head rests on Emmrich’s shoulder. They aren’t quite asleep yet - when he reacts to the contact with an intake of breath, they draw back for a moment. But then, Emmrich leans in, just slightly. Just enough to let them know the touch is not unwelcome. The way Rook curls up at his side then makes Emmrich ache a little. As someone who is an authority figure to so many people (in a way that isolates him sometimes) this simple act of intimacy is precious to him. A show of trust on such a personal level. It takes him more courage than he’d like to admit to rest his cheek against Rook’s hair. The way Rook sighs contentedly gives him goosebumps. It’s been quite a while since Emmrich has shared a bed with anyone. And this is an unusual situation, but still… he can’t help but think how he has missed it. The companionship. The warmth. Sinking into sleep with the comfort of a friendly presence. The intoxicating closeness of someone who has found their way into his heart - this is another thought he tucks away neatly.

And because I can’t resist another trope, of COURSE they shift in their sleep. Emmrich wakes to find himself spooning Rook, with one hand resting on their stomach. They are soft there, and radiating heat. Emmrich thanks every deity he can recount that he tends to wake up early, because if he hadn’t been hard upon waking, the sensation of their body against his, their skin underneath his fingertips would have done the trick. He retreats discreetly to lie on his back. Only for Rook to shift and settle with their head on his chest, one leg draping over him, grazing his erection in the movement. Emmrich forgets to breathe.

He does wake them up, after he’s gotten a hold of himself somewhat. They untangle from him with a sleepy apology. And Emmrich, for a moment, wants nothing more than to stop them, or pull them back into an embrace, or…

He chastises himself for being a touch-starved old fool. Making so much out of nothing. But then Rook slides a hand up to squeeze his shoulder, and they smile at him brightly, beautifully, and ask him if he slept well. And it’s all he can do to swallow a rather wordy confession of his growing infatuation.

(The beauty of Emmrich, to me, is that he’s both a “I could out-sex any man in this room” kind of guy AND an “omg I can’t believe our hands touched” kind of guy. I love him.)

[livinghalfway]

The first thing Bruce does when he realizes that the spell wasn’t hurting Damian was to internally panic about the implications of that. The next thing was to call Constantine and demand his immediate presence.

Meanwhile Tim and Barbara were looking into all of Gotham’s hospitals to see if a child younger than Damian had been brought in for anything highly unusual.

It luckily only takes Constantine a few minutes before he is arriving at the cave, and giving Bruce a whole magical check up.

“You know the interesting about these types of spells is that they have a sort of barcode attached to them.” Constantine says to him as he continues to look him over.

“Explain.”

“Well, scan a barcode,” a string made of light shots out from his chest distancing a few feet before fading, “and it’ll tell you the exact price of what you’re buying.”

Everyone in the cave is immediately on alert as they observe the light seemingly coming out of him. “Constantine! What is this?”

“Relax Batman, the spell connected you and the one that’s going to be affected by it. We’re in luck though because with the string still in tact it means nothing has happened yet to them. There might be time to even stop it.” The man says as he picks the string up, and seems to be almost reading it.

Tim noticing that as well is the one to question it, “You can tell who’s on the other side?”

“Like I said a barcode; it tells everything.” He continues to search the string before finally finding what he’s after. “Ah! Here we go a boy named Danyal al Ghul is who you’re looking for.”

That. That was not what he was expecting. Everyone looks at Damian upon hearing the name. The boy in question looks pale and just as shocked as them. “I can-“

Just as he starts though the once bright string light goes dark before quickly fading. The spell’s price had been paid.

Youngest Child

Imagine while out on patrol Batman gets hit with some kind of spell that will cause his youngest child to have some kind of affliction on them.

Now the whole family is panicking and worried over what is going to happen to Damian. What's confusing though is that nothing happens with Damian, and everyone is now assuming Bruce has another bio kid out there somewhere.

Damian on the other hand is wondering how he should tell his family that he has a younger twin brother. Because he either does have another unknown sibling, or Danyal is alive.

Knowing his father's reputation, and the fact that multiple people in this family have seemingly returned from the dead either options are quite possible right now.

[clockwayswrites]

A Hill To Die On

This is most of Chapter 1, cutting before the smut. IT DOES GET SPICY THOUGH. 🌶️⚠️ Some of this has been posted before, but figured I'd give you all one nice big chunk of it!

Tim brush his hand idly through his damp hair as he stepped out of the shower.

It had gotten long.

He hadn’t planned to grow it out, it just sort of happened. He’d gotten it cut last summer before he started his sophomore year of college. The start of the semester had bled into midterms. Midterms had proceeded papers and projects. Projects had become final presentations and exams. Classes ended abruptly into a too short winter break of Tim visiting Cass and her team then dragging her home for Christmas. The New Year had been filled with Titans and teammates and fireworks.

He might cut it when it started getting to muggy. Spring had barely broken into the city. It was warm enough not to need heavy coat but cool enough Tim could still wear his favorite leather jacket he’d stolen from Jason. It was a good time of the year.

His hair really had gotten long.

As long as the wig Tim wore when he became Caroline. He tugged at the ends of the hair where, if he tilted his head down to look up under his lashes, the black strands brushed the top of his shoulders.

Tim hadn’t been Caroline Hill in a long time now.

Or Alvin Draper.

Or Timothy Drake— CEO to be.

He hadn’t been anyone, really. Instead he had been struggling to find out who Tim Wayne was beyond the expectations of dead parents, missions hidden behind masks, and under the weight everyone else’s needs.

He still really didn’t know.

It felt more like a game of finding out what he wasn’t than falling into what he was. Or what he liked to be.

He could be a ruthless businessman, but that was Timothy Drake, wasn’t it? That was his father’s Jack’s legacy and Janet’s cold, confident smile. He didn’t like being that.

He didn’t like being them.

He could be whatever the mission needed. He could do recon, hacking, infiltration, fighting—a replacement, like Jason said. The word didn’t have the same sting that it used to. Replacement. It was almost a word of respect now. It had taken a lot of talking (and a lot of alcohol) for Jason and Tim to get somewhere good, but they both got it now. Red Robin was whoever the team needed.

He was tired of having to fill in cracks.

He beyond tired of just existing for everyone else’s needs.

The weight of that had nearly broken him.

Had broken him.

Tim watched the black strands of hair slip over the spider web of scars on his left hand.

Bruce had assured him that there would always be a place with the Bats if Tim still wanted it. Tim didn’t know if he would. Tim refused to just fill in the space that was left open anymore. It took a lot of sessions with his Justice League approved therapist for Tim to even get to that line in the sand, but he understood how important it was now.

He had to stop being the replacement. The other Robin. The other son.

It was a problem.

Another problem was, he didn’t always think he was Tim Wayne, even with the pieces that he was slowly learning.

Tim dug around under his sink, coming up with the purple case he’d stolen from Steph to keep Caroline’s things in. The robin red lipstick was on the top. Slowly he uncapped it and smeared it almost recklessly across his lips.

Tim no longer stared back out from the mirror.

Maybe Caroline deserved a night out.

It had been a long time, after all.

-

Clothing was an issue.

Tim had grown. Not much mind, but enough that the shoulders were a little tight and bottoms a little short. Well, the bottoms weren’t a huge matter in that moment. Caroline wanted to go out to a club after all; they could work with a too short skirt. The top though… Caroline adjusted the black strap of the lacy bra. Even with the right padding in, it still didn’t look right.

She chewed on her lower lip, still messily smeared with bright red, as she held another top up against her chest. That wouldn’t do either. Caroline gave the box of old clothing a little kick. Hum. She should paint her toenails.

Focus, Caroline.

It was time to look outside of her box.

Fifteen minutes and a pair of scissors later and one of Alvin’s too large and nondescript red t-shirts had become a drop shoulder crop top. It wasn’t the most amazing fit, but as she dressed it up with the right necklace looped a few times around her throat, a splash of red and leather in the bracelets (cover the scars, they were identifying marks), she figured she could pull off the look—at least for getting sweaty in some dark club.

Ever grateful for quick drying polish, Caroline did a rush job of all her nails and waved them impatiently dry before she did her make up properly. Some contouring, false lashes, the right highlights, step by step Caroline felt herself come alive again until staring back from there mirror was no Tim or Timothy or Alvin—just her.

Just Caroline.

She let out the breath she had been holding.

-

Finding the right club took a little bit. Her old favorite had shut down, apparently. That wasn’t uncommon with the short lifespan of clubs and even less so in Gotham with the money laundering and drug rings that often went with the clubs, but it still sucked. Caroline wanted somewhere that if someone got very handsy on the dance floor there wouldn’t be issue with everything that was carefully and securely tucked away in her underwear. The person might not want all that, which was perfectly fine as long they parted ways amicably.

(And if not, well, one of her bracelets could be shockingly persuasive.)

She tucked her fake ID back away in the hidden pocket of her bra, not minding the bit of a show it gave. Tim would have to make her a new one; she didn’t needed the fake age anymore. Then, with a steadying breath, she entered the thudding music, bright lights, and throng of bodies of the club. It took a moment to adjust to it all. This wasn’t always Caroline’s favorite thing, but they needed to relax already. Any tenser and something was going to snap.

Besides, this is where the boys failed and Caroline thrived; slipping between bodies, flirting, giving enough to capture attention without actually giving anything away. Dealing with a mass of people was a complex game of chess and Caroline very much intended to be the conquering queen.

The bar was the first stop, ordering a fruity martini so that she could sip at the drink and people watch for a time. It was always good to get a feel for things before diving in. It also gave her time to get used to being her again as she fielded a few flirtatious advances which landed her another drink in turn for the first dance of the night with her. She didn’t linger long.

She wasn’t sure what she was in the mood for. Caroline flitted across the dance floor from partner to partner, just letting herself enjoy the thud of the beat and the press of bodies. She always moved on before people could get too invested (or too handsy).

Caroline was on the edge of the floor, slipping away from one dance and looking for the next when a laughing group at a close by table shoved one of their number her way. She took a tentative step back, but didn’t actually need to. The poor sacrificial lamb found his footing rather gracefully.

He ducked his head with a crooked smile that was actually somehow charming. “Sorry about them.”

“Stay on target, Danny!” someone called from the table to cheers and jeers.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Really sorry. Just, ah, I maybe have been talking about how pretty you are and how much I want to dance with you for, like, the last twenty minutes. Feel free to tell me to fuck off if this is rude, but would you like to dance?”

Caroline tilted her head and tried not to smile in too predatory a way. “You’ve been watching me?”

“It’s hard not to, with how you move.”

She laughed at that. This one was so earnest. That was odd for Gotham.

“Once dance,” Caroline said, holding out a hand. “Unless you have the moves and then maybe you’ll get more.”

Danny took the hand and brushed a kiss against it. “One dance, to start.”

-

Despite any doubts that Caroline might have had, Danny knew how to move. She’d lost count of the song they had danced to about the time that Danny’s hand had first slid up her shirt. She rolled her hips, grinding back against Danny’s tight jeans and growing arousal. Danny followed her lead beautifully.

His teeth scrapped lightly against her neck and she threw back her head for him, letting him suck a mark into her skin. She enjoyed the thought of Tim being stuck with a reminder of her night out. (Maybe it would convince him to have some fun of his own.)

Danny’s hand slid down from where it had been cupping a breast, traced over her stomach, and moved to her skirt. Caroline caught it before Danny could do more than slip a few fingertips past the band.

“Sorry,” he murmured into her ear.

“Not that,” Caroline said. She turned her head to press a kiss against the corner of Danny’s mouth, smearing robin red against his tan skin. “Just need to let you know there’s more down there than you might be expecting.”

She held her breath as tightly as she held Danny’s hand. It this went bad, she wanted to be able to act quickly.

Danny’s huff of air sounded amused.

She relaxed her grip slightly.

The hand slipped a little lower.

“To me, any combination of bits is a good combination. I’m up for all sorts of surprises,” Danny assured her. His fingers ran over just the top edge of her underwear, not really touching anything, but applying just enough pressure that she shuddered. “She’ okay to use?”

“Yes. She, her, Caroline.”

“Caroline.” Danny said her name like it was a prayer.

She guided his hand a little lower.

His touch stayed almost teasing and Caroline had to alternate between pressing forward into his hand and grinding backwards against him until Danny pulled them so close together that she could barely move. And fuck, it had been too long for any of them. She half thought that if she put in the effort, or Danny’s hand dipped any lower, that she could manage to come right there on the dance floor.

That was not how she wanted tonight to go.

She ran her hands through Danny’s hair and tilted his head where she wanted it. So that she could nip at his ear lobe. “Tell me you live close.”

“In walking distance.”

[theereina]

New Year, Same Bullshit

Pairing: Toxic Babydaddy!Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.8K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, baby girl, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (male receiving), P in V, Toxic Dom!Terry *if you squint and turn your head*, cum play *sort of*, brattiness galore, facials *no spa*🤭

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

ding

Terry: I hope all is well. My mom told me she has TJ. Hope you enjoy yourself tonight.

Me: I hope I do, too.

Terry: I was thinking about something earlier.

Me: ???

Terry: New Year, new us?

I paused for a second in disbelief. I knew this man was not trying this bullshit tonight. I guess this year's motto was “new year, same bullshit”. I sat there for a second and stared at myself in my vanity's mirror.

I could feel the petty in me rising. I texted Terry back with nothing but ill intentions. “New year, new us”, huh?

Me: Nah. New year, and new dick. Cheers to 2025!🥂✨

I waited until I knew Terry saw the message and blocked his number. I knew I was pushing Terry's buttons but oh well.

2 hours later

“Lele, ain't that Terry?” asked one of the women who came out with me and my best friend.

“Aww, hell. Lele, it is him. He's coming this way, and he looks pissed!” my best friend, Tyler, said.

“I don't care. What he gonna do? Whoop me!” I laughed out loud, spinning to see Terry barreling through the crowd.

I stopped dancing when I saw his face. Maybe, I shouldn't have said that.

“Terry, wait? I didn't mean—,” I said as soon as he stood before me.

“Nah… You meant that shit. New dick, huh?” Terry said, eyeing me down.

As much as I was scared for my life, I was hoping that this night would end the way I wanted it to. Fuck! I needed this.

“You think that shit was funny? Ty, y'all here alone, or did she come with someone?” he asked, looking towards Tyler.

“Terry, I didn't come h—,” I started to speak.

Terry's eyes darted back to meet mine.

“Love, I wasn't talking to you. I asked Tyler. When I want you to speak, I'll let you know.”

“Oh, shit. He not playing with her ass,” said one of the women in the group.

“Yes, we came alone. No, she didn't come here with anyone. I promise,” Tyler said, looking at me.

“I can't believe you're doing this shit right now,” I mumbled under my breath.

“What did you say? I couldn't hear you,” Terry spat, glaring down at me.

“Nothing,” I whispered.

“Yeah, that's what the fuck I thought. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart. I'll be waiting for you when you get home,” he said, holding the back of my head and kissing my forehead.

“Huh? You don't live with me,” I uttered in confusion.

“I still have my key, and I pay the bills there. Don't I? Oh, okay then. Like I said, I'll see you when you get home,” he said, letting me go.

“Oh, and do me a favor, love. Don't drink too much. I need you alert and responsive tonight,” Terry said, walking away.

As I watched Terry leave, I felt my heart racing. There was no calming down from this.

“Fuck me!” I yelled quietly as soon as Terry was out of sight.

“Girl, what the fuck did you do this time?” Tyler asked me, handing me a drink.

I looked at the fruity concoction like it was poison. I knew this sugary ass shit wasn't going to do anything to call my nerves. I shrugged my shoulders and swallowed the drink in two full gulps.

“Damn! That man finna tear yo' ass up. Ain't he?” one of the women asked while laughing.

“You don't even know the half. Tyler, can you keep yo’ godson tomorrow? I got a funny feeling I'm not gonna be straight after tonight,” I asked Tyler, searching her eyes for sympathy.

“Yeah, I got my baby. Now, you just tell me what the fuck you did,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, Ty. I think I fucked up this time,” I said, shaking my head. I pulled her over to one of the couches in the section, hoping that I could talk to her privately.

As I proceeded to tell Tyler what happened, I could see her face shift from concern to amusement.

“Why do you look like you wanna laugh?” I asked when I finished.

“Uh, sis… How did he know where you were?” Tyler asked, looking at me with concern.

“I don't… I don't know. How the fuck did he know I was here?” I asked, questioning myself more than Tyler.

4 nerve-racking hours later

I had literally spent all night trying to come up with a reason not to come home. I knew that whatever was on the other side of that door was going to be— something memorable.

I made sure to stop drinking hours ago. His “alert and responsive” remark was a warning that only WE understood. My insides were screaming because I knew Terry had a way of breaking me down and putting me back together again in the most— sensual and pleasurable way. Yes, there may be pain involved, but I couldn't care less.

I was well aware of what came with provoking Terry. At this point, it was a game for me, and my prize was always the best dick a girl could ever ask for. That was definitely the one thing I missed about having Terry living at home— the in-house, on-demand dick. Always hard, and always ready.

It was a little after 4 in the morning. I was pushing my luck coming in this late, but I might as well fully enjoy what may be my last night out for a while. I was either about to get fucked up, be fucked, or both.

After realizing that Terry's truck was nowhere to be found, I scanned the streets to see if he parked there instead. Nothing.

I reluctantly began walking to the door. How was this possible? Even the walk up to my front door was causing me anxiety. Every goddamn step felt like I was approaching the gates of hell. Was I really letting this man make me feel like a child coming home when they know they're getting an ass whooping? Yes.

I slowed my steps and began putting my hair in a ponytail. If it's one thing I knew, this ponytail may save my life. Then again, it may do the opposite. Aww, fuck!

I tossed my heels and purse into one hand while adjusting my keys with the other. Placing the key into the keyhole, I quietly unlocked the door. I paused before opening the door, praying that Terry wasn't standing on the other side.

Sliding inside as quickly as I could, I tiptoed inside the house and locked the door. From what I could see, he wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders. I stood quietly in an attempt to possibly hear if he was somewhere in the house. I flattened my back against the door since I was still unsure of my surroundings.

From somewhere to the right of me, I heard something dart towards me. I turned around in a panic. Right as I was about to make a run for it, I saw that the culprit had a tail. I WAS ABOUT TO RUN FROM MY DAMN CAT!!!

I took a deep breath and leaned down to pick up the cat. But… As soon as my knees hit the floor, I felt a hand on the back of my head. I screamed out in shock, startling the cat.

“Oh, nah. Shit that shit up! I told you I would be waiting for you. Didn't I?” Terry growled, pulling me by my ponytail.

Like I said. The ponytail was a gift and a curse.

“Just…” I yelled, grabbing his hands in my hair.

“Touch me again. I dare you. Imma do more than tie yo’ ass up!” Terry said, holding my face to look up at him.

“Terry, I'm sorry. I was just jo—!” I started, letting my hands fall beside me.

“That was supposed to be a joke. Ha! We gone see what's funny in a minute.” Terry said, letting go of my hair.

As much as my brain was telling me to run, my pussy was begging me to stay even more.

Terry's hand wrapped around my forearm. “Stand up!” he barked.

“Please, I said I’m—,” I said, standing to my feet.

“If I have to tell you to shut up again…” Terry said, pulling me to face him.

I used the back of my hand to wipe the tears that were now falling.

“I hope you don't think those tears are stopping shit. Ain't no sense in crying. You did this to yourself, Alicia. I was trying to be nice to you, but you just don't know when to leave me the fuck alone,” Terry said, stepping closer to me.

I gulped as he glared at me, blinking slowly. Every breath he released was hot and heavy— weighed down in anger. It's as if he was battling to control himself.

“You thought that shit was so cute. Didn't you? I bet you and your little friends had a good laugh at that, huh?” Terry said, leaning down and resting his forehead on mine.

“You can speak, now. Choose your words wisely,” he said. He straightened his posture and stood to his full height, holding his hands in front of him.

“I'm sorry. I didn't tell anyone but Tyler. I swear,” I spat out as quickly as I could.

Terry paused to look at me. His eyes darkened in lust and anger. I let my gaze drop to the floor.

“Nah, you know better. Eyes on me at all times, right?” Terry demanded.

“Yes,” I said, trailing my eyes up Terry's body. I let my gaze linger on the bulge that had grown in his jeans.

“Unh unh. You gone see that in a minute. Look at me, Alicia!” Terry said, forcing me to look at him.

I rubbed my forearm nervously. I waited for Terry to say something else. Instead, he turned on his heels and sat on the couch.

Leaning back on the couch, he placed his arm over the back. “Better yet. Come here and bring your phone with you,” he said, motioning for me to approach him.

I slowly picked up my phone from the floor and walked up to him. I stood between his legs. He dropped his gaze to the floor, letting me know to kneel. I kneeled in front of him while never breaking eye contact.

“Good girl. Thank you for finally listening. Give me your phone.”

Handing him my phone, my mind immediately started to race. I knew if this man went through that phone. My ass was grass!

“Terry, wait!” I yelled, stopping him.

“Oh, you must be hiding something. You are crazy as hell if you think I can't go through a phone that I pay for every month. However, that's the least of my concerns right now,” he scoffed, tossing the phone beside him on the couch.

“I just… I… I know that… if…,” I stuttered.

“Don't even worry about it, love. Because after tonight, it won't matter what nigga is in that phone. You'll know who you belong to. I can promise you that.”

Terry leaned forward, grabbing the side of my face firmly. I gasped in anticipation.

“I don't understand why you choose to play with me, baby girl. Here I am asking for my family back, and your ass wants to play these childish ass games.”

“Terry, baby. I—,” I said before he placed his hand around the front of my throat. I instantly shut my mouth.

“Look at that! How sweet. I didn't even have to do it, and you knew.” Terry said, biting his bottom lip. He moaned as he watched me. He was more than thrilled with my natural obedience.

Moving his hand to cup my chin, he let his thumb trace the silhouette of my bottom lip.

“Mmm… Daddy misses these lips. The way they look, the way they feel— everything!”

Terry's hand let go of my chin as he sank back into the couch. I watched fervently as he undid his belt. Making quick work of his pants, he freed himself from the confinement of his boxers.

I eyed his dick, waiting for his permission to even touch it.

“I told you you'd get to see it. Unfortunately, touching it ain't an option. At least not right now, especially with that foul mouth of yours.”

My face dropped in disbelief as I began to pout.

“What you will get to do is watch me. Watch me while I… uh… make you wish it was you handling this for me.” Terry laughed while lifting my head back up to watch him.

So, it begins. This is the part where he breaks me.

Terry wrapped his hand firmly around the base of his dick. “All you had to do was behave, but you just can't. I bet you'll be on your best fuckin’ behavior after tonight.”

Terry's hand stroked the length of his shaft. His contentment was already evident as small droplets of precum began to leak from his tip.

I rested my hands on my thighs, pressing my fingertips into the cushion of my thighs. I was fighting the urge to lick what I felt was mine; however, I knew that wouldn't end the way I wanted. Licking my tongue out, I let it slide across the flesh of my bottom lip.

Terry grunted in response. My eyes darted from his dick to his face. His eyes were low and wanton. He was just as needy as I was. Our gazes locked in fervor, passing a mutual message that intensified the salacious hunger between us.

Terry's hand sped up and tightened around his head. His grunts grew deeper and more primal. He was feigning to cum.

I tilted my head and lowered my gaze, pleading with my eyes. Sitting here with my hands in my lap wasn't enough for me. I whined while wiggling my hips, trying to feel something to help the ache between my legs.

“Fuck! You got 3 minutes to make me cum or else!” Terry said, leaning up and grabbing the back of my head.

He didn't even have to finish his movement. My mouth was on his dick before he could even grab me. I was horny, I was needy, and most importantly, I was hungry.

I took all of Terry in on a single inhale not giving a fuck about my throat. I needed this. I let saliva fall from my mouth and down the sides of his shaft. Pulling back, I hollowed out my cheeks and created a vacuum around the head of Terry's dick.

“Ahhh, fuck. You… you always know… ugh.. exactly what to do, baby girl. That's right. This dick is yours, mama. Ahhh, shit. Keep going, baby,” Terry said, stroking the side of my face.

I moaned around his dick. Swallowing his full length again with pride, I smiled around him. Opening my mouth slowly, I sunk down further until my nose hit the patch of hair he grew there. Relaxing every muscle in my throat I let him sit in the back of my throat while I hummed and moaned in pleasure. This… this was the ache I was seeking. This was what I wanted to feel— the burn and stretch of this very moment.

I pulled off of Terry with a pop, watching as a thin string of saliva and cum fell from my lips. Grabbing him mid-shaft, I began to jerk his dick. Fully consumed by my own pleasure, I failed to immediately take notice of Terry's silence.

I looked up to see Terry's eyes closed as he released a slew of low, rough moans. I instantly put my mouth back on him, focusing solely on his head. Using my tongue to massage his tip, I was hoping to push Terry over the edge.

Watching him closely, I marveled at the sight before me. His head had rolled back on his shoulders, and his bottom lip was tucked in between his teeth. As I felt Terry's dick begin to pulse, I took him into the back of my throat again. I wanted every drop of him, and I was going to make sure I got it.

Letting him paint the back of my throat was the only thing on my mind. I started sucking Terry like my life depended on it. His hand gripped the back of my head, but even that didn't stop me. I rested my hands on Terry's legs for support as I put my all into it.

As soon as I felt like the first drops of cum were about to make an appearance, Terry grunted and pulled me back. His dick fell from my mouth and into his own hands. Leaning my head back, Terry stroked himself twice before erupting— all over my face.

I closed my eyes, feeling the warm sticky substance coat my eyelashes along with my forehead, nose, and lips. I exhaled as I thanked God that I closed my eyes in time.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue!” Terry barked as I felt him moving around.

I opened my mouth and felt him push his dick inside again. Resting the full weight of his dick on my tongue, he told me to keep my mouth open.

“Smile!” he said as I heard a camera shutter.

Without a second thought, my eyes shot open.

“For memories. Adding it to the stash.”

Of course! That's what the fuck he wanted the phone for. I pulled back, letting his dick fall out. “I told you that you're mine. Didn't I?” he said, leaning up.

“Oh, don't think we're done either. Stand up!” he nodded.

I rose to my feet, wobbling. As I stood before Terry, I went to wipe my face. His hand reached out to grab my hand.

“Nah, baby girl. You gone wear that shit with pride. I plan on marking my territory in more ways than one. There will be no creampies tonight,” he warns, standing from the couch.

“But Terry I—,” I said.

His arms wrapped around my waist as he lifted me. Wrapping my legs around him, he turned to walk towards the hallway. My body practically melted into him as I clung to his back. I began to whine and moan while kissing his neck.

“Daddy missed this pussy— MY pussy,” Terry moaned as his hands pushed the strapless dress I wore up past my stomach. The thin fabric began bunching up.

“Ahhh, mmmm. Fuck!” I moaned, placing my hands around his neck.

As we approached the bedroom door, Terry didn't even reach to open it. Instead, he opted for kicking it open.

“Don't worry. I'll fix it!” he grinned.

Walking to the foot of the bed, he laid me directly in the middle. He stepped back and completely undressed himself. God Lord, I missed this body.

I leaned up and began kissing and touching his abdomen. Moving my hands out of the way, Terry's hands went to the neckline of the dress as he leaned over me. In one swift move, he tore the top of the dress in half, continuing to tear the fabric from my body until nothing was left.

While I was preoccupied with my own thoughts, he pushed me down onto the bed. Climbing onto the bed and settling between my thighs, he wrapped my legs around his waist.

Looking at me with the most sinful smirk, he entered me in one thrust. I gasped out in both pain and pleasure. We hadn't had sex in over four months. The feeling of him stretching my pussy out sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

“You gone feel me tonight, baby. All of me,” he said, leaning down to kiss my neck.

Pulling every inch of his dick out to the tip, he inserted himself again. He was clearly on a mission.

Thrust after thrust…

“So, you gone give my pussy away? Huh? Answer me when I'm talkin' to you!” he said, thrusting into me harder.

“No!” I yelled as my back arched off the bed.

Using nothing but his body weight, Terry flattened me out again. “No, ma'am.” He said, pulling out to thrust back in again. “The fuck you moving for? You gone take this dick. It's yours, ain't?” he asked, kissing my chin.

“Yes, this… this is… ahhh, fuckkk… This is my dick!” I screamed out as he pounded into me. Every thrust knocked the syllables from my lips.

“That's right. This your dick, baby. All of it! Every fuckin' inch, mama! Now, what you gone do with it, huh?” he growled in my ear, taunting me.

“I'm… gonna… fuckin'… take… it!” I whimpered. His thrusts began to pick up speed.

“Good girl, and you gone let me cum wherever I want to, right?” Terry coaxed, hitting my g-spot over and over again.

“Yes!” I yelled, clawing at Terry's back.

I was so close to cumming, and this shit felt so damn good. Hell, I'd even let him cum on my face again.

“I knew my baby would. Who pussy this is, mama?” he asked, smirking.

“Yours! For… ever! Terry, please! Can… ohhhh… can I cum?” I begged as I felt my climax quickly approaching.

“You better wet this dick up, too. Come on, baby.” Terry uttered softly, talking me through it. “Oouu… look at my baby,” he said, fucking me through my orgasm.

“Terry!” I moaned out, digging into his forearms.

“Look at that shit! Wet as fuck!” he said, watching himself slip in and out.

“Yes! Shit! Ohhh, fuck!” I gasped as he slowed his strokes.

“Yeah! Just like that. You ready? Tell Daddy that you're ready,” he groaned clearly at his peak.

“Please, Daddy! Cum for me!” I yelled.

Terry pulled out, aiming straight for my pussy and stomach. I watched intently as ropes of cum landed on my lower abdomen and the mound of my pussy. Using his dick, Terry began to mix the remainder of his cum into my own. He beamed as he created a disgusting and sloppy mess between my legs.

“I wish you could see it, baby. It's so pretty,” he said, looking up. His eyes roamed over the entirety of my body, lingering on the areas covered in his cum. “You look so pretty, mama,” Terry praised.

“I know I do, and it's all because of you,” I said, pulling Terry in for a kiss.

Taglist: @episodes-ff @babybratzmaraj @persethegawd @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @kimuzostar @confessionsofadramaqueenn @luvrsluxe @blackmoonchilee @meannaim @nayaesworld @msdmc1 @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @mymindisneverhere @brattyfics @avoidthings @honeytoffee @peachbuttetfly @melaninadorned @theglamclosetsl @simplyzeeka @dxddykenn @charismablu @blackerthings @slutsareteacherstoo @vivaalenaa @becauseimswagman1 @keehendrixx @teeresaresa @beenathembo @inthekeyofshe @notapradagurl7 @blowmymbackout

This taglist is random and sort of thrown together. Sorry.😔

[jjscrybaby]

hiii :)

could you do a rafe x reader where the reader has a panic attack in front of sarah for the first and she knows to get the reader to rafe and he immediately calms her down?

rafe cameron x reader | hurt & comfort | (pogue!reader, mean girls, panic attack, crying, comforting!rafe, insecure!reader.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

No one figured Rafe Cameron would go for a Pogue. For all his life he’d been the number 1 Pogue hater, the biggest Kook defender, and overall just a pretentious asshole. That’s why it was the shock of the island when you showed up on his arm to Midsummer’s, wearing a dress that costed more than your rent with an anxious smile on your face.

Your boyfriend had promised to stick by your side for the entire night, and you were sure he meant it when he said it, but he hadn’t taken into account just how enthused the elders were going to be to see him. He wasn’t that teenage boy they knew anymore, instead a man living alone and dealing with his troubles; thanks to you.

It was halfway through the night when you went to the bathroom, the few glasses of champagne had your head feeling fuzzy and your bladder full. You locked yourself in the cubicle and started to do your business, before you heard voices from outside.

“It’s strange though, right?” The door closed behind the girls that had walked in, making you flinch as you stood to sort your dress out.

“Rafe with a Pogue. Yeah, definitely weird,” a squeaky voiced girl agreed with a laugh.

“It won’t last, trust me. He’s only with her for the image, it makes him look good to do charity for a girl like that. I’m pretty sure she’s a waitress at the club,” the other one responded.

“I’ll be sure to find him later and remind him of that.” The two of them giggled to themselves, gushing over how hot your boyfriend was for a couple more minutes before leaving. You didn’t step out of the cubicle until you were sure that you were alone, hot tears running down your cheeks.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the fact those girls had said everything you’d been thinking for the last few months you’d been together, you weren’t sure, but something about their words had hurt your feelings; and had sent you into a spiral. You sat down on the plush purple chair, breaths coming out rapidly and shakily.

“Oh my god, what happened?” You hadn’t even heard the door open, but as you turned your head you found Sarah rushing at you. She knelt down next to you, holding your hands as you let out fearful whimpers. “Fuck. Okay, stay here, okay? Don’t move!” She ran back out and you stared at the door, holding your chest anxiously.

Only a minute later the door was swinging open and Rafe was storming in, striding over to you. “Hey, hey. Look at me,” he demanded, gentle but firmly as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Breathe for me, okay? Slow breaths, you got it.”

He’d seen you like this a few times, he’d learnt the best ways to get you to relax. He held your hand over his own chest, feeling his heartbeat underneath your palm. He gave you a reassuring smile as you copied his breathing, gripping onto his fingers.

“Good girl,” he drawled, pulling you from the chair into his lap where he sat on the floor. He stroked your hair, leaving gentle kisses over your cheek. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“It’s stupid,” you croaked out, still gripping onto his hand.

“No. It’s not. Tell me what happened, so I can sort it out and get the both of us out of the women’s bathroom,” he joked, making you giggle tearfully.

You gave him a wobbly smile. You didn’t have much of a choice now, it was time to admit to him the insecurities you’d had over the last few months; the ones that kept you up at night as he slept soundly beside you. “No one here thinks I’m good enough for you.”

“What?” His face scrunched up in confusion. “Baby, what’re you talking about?”

“I— I’m a Pogue,” you whispered, as if you were admitting a crime.

“I know that,” he shrugged. “I’m not that oblivious, sweetheart. Why does that matter? Why are you saying this now?”

“Because everyone thinks it Rafe! I’m sure you have before, I know I have! Everyone here thinks you’re an idiot for being with me, that you’ve lost your mind. Maybe they’re right,” you cried out.

His hands grabbed your face firmly, leaning his forehead against your’s as he held you in place. “You’re the love of my life.”

“What?” You murmured.

“You are the love of my life. I don’t give a fuck if you’re a Pogue, I don’t care that you eat pizza like you’ve not eaten in years, or that you swear like a pirate. You’re my girl, and I love you. I don’t care about other peoples opinions, because they’re irrelevant,” he explained slowly, caressing your cheek as he spoke. “Now, do you want to go home or do you want to get the biggest bottle of champagne and make fun of these losers?”

“The second one,” you whispered, staring at him like a lovesick puppy.

He smirked, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “That’s my girl,” he mumbled, biting down on your bottom lip lightly to make you giggle. “Now, next time you get some dumb shit in your head you gonna tell me? Or do I have to spend all our loving conversations in the bathroom?”

You laughed, wiping your teary eyes as he helped you off his lap and back to your feet. He adjusted your flower crown with a cheesy grin, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars. If you didn’t believe his words before, you definitely did now. “You don’t like the bathroom?”

“Well… it’s definitely nicer than the men’s, I’ll give you that.”

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris)

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy". note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. Also, this story is angsty with a happy ending - it does not contain any smut or suggestive themes. [A/N: This is my first SMAU and hooooooly shit did I totally underestimate how much work it is, and how things work within Tumblr to make it look alright. If you have any tips, let me know lol. I had to split it up in pieces, but i've got all the content written out already, so will be updated soon with the next part!]

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December, 2025

February, 2026

[Excerpt from red carpet interview at the Grammy's with Y/N]

How are you feeling tonight? You're up for 3 awards, one of them Album of the Year for All I Ever Needed - that's huge!

"It's so overwhelming, to be honest."

Even when you've gone through this experience before? This is your fourth time attending, second time as nominee.

"Yeah, maybe even more so! It's a great chance to hang out with friends and meet new people, but it's also really prestigious still. Being nominated - I try to act like it doesn't matter, because awards always involve politics too - but at the end of the day, you do want it."

And who're you most looking forward to seeing tonight?

"Honestly? I came alone tonight, so I can't wait to find Sabrina [Carpenter] and Jade. I'm gonna need my girls."

Your friend Miley is also up for an award tonight in the same category, what's that like?

"Ha, if the Grammy's do the right thing tonight she'll win it - I know I voted for her!"

You'll also be performing one of your songs - Ruin My Life, can you tell us a bit about what to expect?

"I really wanted this to be visually interesting, but it took me a while to get the right concept for it. I think it's because to me this album and song already feel sort of far removed, and lived in? I'm in a different phase of my life right now, so I had to find a new way to still connet to it. I was really grateful to work with a great art director to bring a different version to the stage."

March, 2026

July, 2026

[SkyNews excerpt]

Lando Norris wins Silverstone GP, dedicates his 20th podium win to his family

The man of the hour is none other than Lando Norris, who’s just gone on to claim his 20th victory at his home race. You’re reading that right, his home race! While he still owns his apartment in Monaco, Norris revealed today that he’s been living back in England for the past few months. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace anymore and wanted to live closer to my family. Especially now that my brother’s kids are growing up, I just like knowing I could drive over – rather than having to fly across countries.”

Speaking on the importance of his family being present, Norris shared that it means everything to him. “In this sport you need to have skill, talent, trust and investment from your team, but also you need that stable sense of safety from the people you love. If your mindset isn’t there, you can’t be competitive.”

Norris has been vocal about mental health in the past, and has advocated for more access to mental healthcare facilities and professionals across motorsport.

“Especially in tougher years where there’s just a lot of noise and turmoil, it’s nice to have a professional coach you to mental fitness as well.”

It was the only notable reference to Norris’ private life, which ended on a low note last year after splitting from long-time girlfriend y/n l/n. The two were originally thought to have had an amicable split, but recent reports hint at a different story, with Norris unfollowing his ex and her friends unfollowing him in return.

August, 2026

September, 2026

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Part II can be read here! likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

[snoopychris]

break room

in which… cheerleader!reader drops lunch off for nerd!matt

warnings: porn with some plot, matt is a Freak with a capitol F again, mentions of hickeys, semi-public sex, throat bulge, choking, matt has a spit kink, dirty talk, DEGRADATION., cum swallowing, that’s about it.

matt’s smile grows by 1000 percent when you walk into gamestop. you’re in your cheer uniform due to the basketball game later that night. “brought you food” you smile, handing him the plastic container covered in various snoopys. he presses a quick kiss to your lips, holding your neck in his hand. it doesn’t go unnoticed when he tightens his hold on your neck to make you lose your breath. you know he’s into it, you just never want to push the topic if he isn’t the first to bring it up.

“oh you’re so so sweet. how long till the game? y’got time to keep me company during my lunch?” he whispers, letting go of your neck and setting his hands on your hips. you giggle as you shrug, hands moving to his hair.

“‘bout an hour.” you smile, gently tugging on his hair. you stand on your tip toes to be able to reach him, pressing a small kiss to his neck. it’s littered with purple marks that you had left the day before, hardly faded. “you’re s’handsome.” you mumble, continuing your gentle attack on his neck. matt lets out a noise of some sort at your movements, setting you on the counter of his workplace. you adjust the glasses on his face as you stare into his eyes lustfully, silently begging for more.

“you’re playin such a dangerous game,sweetie.” he whispers, fingers trailing against your jawline. you shrug as you look around the otherwise empty game store, smirking slightly. “you get to close during your break?” you ask, biting your lip. matt nods in response, grabbing his keys from his pocket and waving them in front of you.

he locks the doors in the blink of an eye, placing the “be back in 30 minutes sign” on the door. you make your way to the back of house as he does so, placing his food on the desk. matt’s back there with you in less than two minutes, pulling you into another long passionate kiss. you giggle into it, arms flying to be around his neck. it’s a heated kiss, one that matt always seems to ignite whenever you’re in your uniform. you slowly and regretfully pull away, a noise of shock leaving your mouth when matt pushes you to be on your knees.

you look up at him with pleading eyes, kissing all around his thighs and legs with his pants still buttoned. “please…” you whimper, getting a nod of confirmation from matt to be able to free his aching cock. you unzip them and pull them down along with his underwear swiftly, finally freeing him. his hands fly to you hair as he pushes you down onto him, throwing his head backwards. he stumbles a bit to lean against the desk before he begins to move your head up and down with your hair as his only form of guidance. he groans when you stop at the base of his cock, noticing the bulge in your throat. he always knew he had been slightly above average, but seeing you like this sent him to a whole other level. you’re only able to pull away when you pat his thigh, a sign that you’re struggling to breathe. matt reluctantly pulls you off of him to let you catch your breath, bending over to see you more face to face.

“how y’doin down there?” he whispers, spitting onto your tongue slightly. you let out a moan at the feeling before pushing him back into your mouth completely. “little fuckin whore… coming to my job to suck me off during my break…” he mumbles, his speed still relentless. he can feel himself getting close to coming undone, but when he sees the look on your face he realizes that you like being talked to like that. “fucking slut. you knew you’d end up here when you walked in wearing that uniform didn’t you? knew you’d have me fucking your throat like you’re a toy you can buy at the mall.” if you didn’t have a game to get to soon, you’d let him cum all over your uniform.

he looks into your eyes for any look of concern or discomfort of his release, but when he sees none, he lets himself go. when spurts of his cum release all the way down your throat, his grip on your hair lessens and he moves his thumb down to your mouth. he pulls out slowly as a string of saliva and cum connect your lips to his tip, and he uses his thumb to break the connection. “swallow it…” he whispers, tilting your chin up to meet your gaze. and as if he hadn’t been shoved to the brim in your throat 30 seconds prior, he begins to speak. “good luck at your game. thank you for lunch.”

a/n: idk how i ended up writing about matt being a freak during lunch again but… whatever i suppose! here u guys go ^_^ kiss kiss -gen

dividers by @issysh3ll !

🏷️: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @chrisscoraline @m4ttg1rl @princessesgarden @ikyoudreamofme @allylovescody @ayesha-eroticaa @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @user1smvtysturniolo @chrislova @emely9274

[epicmarrowbonesoup]

Headcannon that postcannon Charles doesnt like leaving Edwin alone for long streches of time.

You know the way he did in the beggining of the show, leaving Edwin alone so that Charles could be with Crystal or just giving Edwin space to be with other people(Monty or Niko). I think post-Hell Charles Rowland would feel uneasy about not having Edwin in his line of sight while at the same time not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

Like how in the last episode Edwin is alone and Charles leaves others to pack so he could check up on Edwin, that sort of thing. Or how he was hessitent to follow Crystals plan at first becouse he has to rescue(see) Edwin ( to me it also looks like Charles was so busy rushing to Edwin he didnt noitice Nikos body but that might just be me)

Anyways i think it would be a fun direction to take Charles's characther in. Considering in s1 he is already weary of Edwin spending time with the Cat King, youd get that whole jealousy thing but doubled and mixed in with his feeling of inadequacy as the brawn. But also s1 establishes Charles as being at least partially insecure about their bond: having to correct Edwin whenever Edwin says how Charles would move on quickly and constanty seeking reassurment from edwin about their friendship (ep 1 when he asks what would happen if death came, ep 4 with his fight with the night nurse, seeing Brad and Hunter the best friends as him and Edwin)

And then you also have the reversal of how Edwin was jealous of Charles spending lots of times with Crystal and now Charles is protesting every second Edwin isnt with him. And ofcourse Charles does it from a place of fear and love but Edwin would maybe interpret it the wrong way, who knows?

And, from what the writers have told us, Edwin in s2 spent at least some amount of time flirting with other men (hopefully without Charles lurking in the background) and from what we know from that one cameo Jayden and George did, there was a lot of tension between the boys...

Now im not a writer i didnt write the s2 script or anything, im not saying this is what would have happened in s2 but.... i think the tension might have come from that. From Charles seeing Hell as a traumatic expirience and his PTSD manifesting as his insistence on Edwin not leaving his side, Charles's insecurities and his fear of losing Edwin being at an all time high. While Edwin, who has learnd how to forget Hell, is acting as if nothing happened at all, exploring his sexuality and making new friends in the process.

It would make Charles confront all of the skeletons he's been hiding in the closet but also it would ask the simple question of why is Charles so insecure in their friendship? Why is he constantly mentioning them being best mates? Why does he need it so much? Why is he constantly searching from reassurences that they are best friends?

And for more angst, from Edwins point of view he is doing everything Charles wanted him to do in s1. Hes accepting and letting the dead boy detectives workplace to grow and change, he is being more open and friendlier, he is encouraging Charles friendship/relationship with Crystal and he is no longer playing trauma Olympics at the drop of a hat. So why is Charles so mad? Hes working through his shame and his supiriority complex, hes growing as a person and Charles is still stuck at the staircase.

[buzzcutlip]

For @tyferbebe who requested "You know you didn't have to get me anything" & Touch starved from my Winter prompts list <3 I changed the sentence a little bit

Not Monday Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Rated E (oral sex) 2170 words

You have a massive, ginormous crush on your neighbour, Carmen Berzatto. You find him extremely good-looking—even though he might not be the typical hot guy type—and the fact that he’s a successful chef takes things to an even higher level. The fact that he’s been capable of running some of the best restaurants in the world definitely impresses you, and, frankly, turns you on in all sorts of ways.

Hi, are you at home?

Mind if I pop in for a sec?

The two messages from Carmy show up on the screen of your phone, and you simultaneously panic and get excited. You’ve just returned from the Christmas family visit late last night, and now you’re in the middle of unpacking, sorting out dirty laundry, and eating leftovers. The urge to put on at least a bit of makeup and change out of your old sweatpants is strong, but on the other hand, you’re worried that Carmen’s plan might change if you don’t respond immediately.

Sure, come over!

The next second, you hear the door opposite yours open and shut, followed by a quick rap on your entrance door. When you open it, you’re still clutching your phone in one hand.

“Wow, you’re quick,” you blurt out with a laugh. Carmy smiles back, his dimples appearing, and your heart swells. Your eyes quickly roam over his form and face, hoping that he won’t notice your obvious gluttonous interest.

“I’m returning the screwdriver,” Carmen says, handing you the tool he borrowed at the beginning of December.

“Oh, thank you.” This has become a game you two play. Not so innocent on your side, as you would often come up with silly reasons, but hopefully convincing ones, to either visit Carmy or invite him over to your place—to borrow a cup of flour, ask him to change a bulb, or help you move the sofa. On the other hand, Carmen’s been over to yours for small favors like shirt ironing, sewing a button on his chef whites, or suggestions for Natalie’s birthday present.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say quickly, clutching the screwdriver like it’s a precious artifact. “I just got back last night and haven’t really… sorted everything out yet.”

Carmen shrugs, a little smile playing at his lips. “Looks fine to me.” His eyes linger for a moment on the half-open suitcase spilling clothes onto the floor before they return to you. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s caught between being bashful and wanting to stay longer.

“So, uh, how was your trip?” he asks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. You know that despite The Bear being closed for the Christmas holidays, Carmen was probably busy coming up with new dishes and similar things. No rest for the wicked.

You’re a little surprised by the question—he doesn’t usually linger after these quick exchanges. “Good. A little chaotic, but that’s family for you.” Carmen knows about your mother and three siblings—each of you with a different father—and how intense she gets.

Carmen chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you wonder if it’s possible to bottle it. You’d play it on repeat whenever you needed cheering up. “I can imagine.”

“Oh—wait! I’ve got something for you,” you suddenly remember and reach into your suitcase to fish out a small package adorned with a green ribbon.

Carmen’s eyes widen, flicking between you and the package as you hand it to him. “It’s Belgian chocolate. Milk with roasted almonds and sea salt,” you quickly explain. “One of my older brother’s father is Belgian. He always sends a lot of chocolates. I think he doesn’t remember how old we are anymore,” you shrug. “This is my favorite.”

Carmen’s face softens as he looks at the package in your hand, and he hesitates for just a moment before taking it. His fingers brush yours, and you don’t miss the way he notices it too—his eyes darting to yours for a fraction of a second.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, his voice quieter, almost shy. “It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “I mean, you’ve helped me out so many times. And besides…” You trail off, shrugging again as you feel a little self-conscious. “I thought you might like it.”

Carmen studies the package for a moment before meeting your eyes again. There’s something so earnest about the way he looks at you, it makes your chest ache in the best way.

“Thanks…Uhm—I didn’t get you anything.”

You wave your hand dismissively, shaking your head as you try to mask the pang of disappointment you feel, even though you honestly hadn’t expected a present from Carmy. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like that.”

Carmen’s shoulders relax slightly, though his brows remain knitted together like he’s still mulling it over. “Still… I feel bad now,” he mutters.

“You really don’t have to,” you insist, a small laugh escaping you. “I mean, unless you wanna give me the New Year’s kiss I didn’t get.”

When you blurt out the last sentence, your eyes widen as you realize what you just said. You quickly laugh again, only this time it sounds a bit forced. “I guess I take that from my mom—finding the right guy who would stick around is not my strength,” you ramble on uncomfortably, trying your best to get out of the situation with as much dignity as possible.

Carmen looks genuinely caught off guard, like he’s not sure if you’re joking or not. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, spreading all the way to your ears. “You serious, or…?”

Your heart skips—no, jumps—at his words. The laugh that escapes you now is soft, nervous, and entirely unplanned. “I mean… maybe?” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carmen’s eyes flicker to yours as he steps just a little closer, the tension between you so thick you can almost touch it. “You tell me,” he says conspiratorially, his voice even softer now.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he leans in, his movements careful, like he’s giving you all the time in the world to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head, your lips brushing his just barely, soft and tentative.

It’s you who leans back first, afraid of him ending the kiss. Only now do you realize you’re wearing old sweatpants and a stretched-out t-shirt, your face completely makeup-free. Carmen’s seen you at The Bear, when you went there for dinner with a friend—all dressed up in fancy clothes and carefully styled hair. “I’m a mess,” you state, still vibrating from the little kiss.

“You always look pretty,” Carmy says quietly with a small smile, sounding genuine. You want nothing more than to kiss him some more, so you ask: “Was that just a one-time—” but before you have a chance to finish your question, or even your thought, Carmy’s lips are on yours again, and your brain short-circuits.

Your bed is hiding behind an old antique paravent you bought in Boston when you first moved here. The bed itself is large, just how you like it, with a solid wood-carved headboard. That’s where you end up together.

The touch of your tongue against Carm’s is intoxicating; the taste of his kiss is absolutely addictive. You moan into the kiss needily, the sound catching in the back of your throat, and blush furiously at your own reaction.

Despite how much you hate admitting it, it’s been years since you kissed someone like this—since a guy has touched you like Carmen is now. His hands roam up and down your sides under your jumper, squeezing the meat of your thighs, enveloping you heavily, wholly.

Carmy’s solid weight above you is grounding and electrifying all at once. Your hands find their way under his hoodie, fingers brushing against his warm skin, the wiry strength of muscle a reminder of how physical his life is. He lets out a quiet, almost shy groan when your nails graze his back, and you feel the sound in your chest as much as you hear it.

“Is this okay?” he asks between kisses, his voice husky, his breath warm against your neck. The care in his tone makes your stomach flip. “Yes,” you whisper, arching into him.

That seems to give him permission, and his touch grows bolder. He pushes your shirt up, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist, sending shivers up your spine. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck, each kiss deliberate. You’re finding it harder and harder to keep still under his attention, your head tilting restlessly, your teeth sinking into your lip to stifle the embarrassing noises spilling from you.

When Carmen leans away and up, you almost protest. He sits back on his haunches between your spread legs, all flushed cheeks and messy hair. He looks adorable and also devastatingly hot. Before you can say anything, he swiftly takes off his t-shirt and jumper in one go, and you finally have the opportunity to admire his bare torso.

The second you want to get up to explore his torso properly with your hands—and maybe your mouth—he stops you.

“Lie back,” Carmy gently nudges you into position, and you obey willingly, watching him curiously.

Carmen’s gaze is heavy, filled with an intensity that sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths as he studies you quietly. All you can do is watch as he reaches down for the waist of your sweatpants.

“Can I…” he trails off, leaning down to kiss the sliver of bare skin peeking between the waistband and the jumper. Immediately, you nod, letting him know he has your consent. You even help him push the garment down your legs and off. His calloused fingers are warm, rough in a way that contrasts beautifully with how gently he’s touching you. You feel like you’re about to melt into the bed.

A sudden stillness forces you to open your eyes to check on Carmy. He’s staring down, right between your legs.

“It’s not Monday,” he says, sensing your eyes on him.

“Whaat?”

He touches his thumb to your pelvis bone. “Here. It says ‘Monday.’”

Confused, you look down. It takes you only about two seconds to understand that he’s referring to the word on your panties, just above a picture of daisies.

“Shut up,” you nudge him with your knee, laughing.

He chuckles low, his breath fanning against your skin as he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I’m just observant,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin between words, sending a violent shiver up your spine with the tender contact.

“And for the record, these”—he hooks a finger under the elastic, tugging gently—“are cute as hell.”

Then, instead of taking your underwear off as you expect, he takes your hand in his and pulls it down to your crotch—a silent invitation to touch yourself. You do, feeling your heart in your throat, turned on and shy in equal measures. Carmen watches as you stroke yourself through your panties, hesitantly at first. You’ve been wet since the moment you two started kissing, the damp patch on the pale blue fabric drawing Carmy’s eyes.

He lowers himself, planting open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs and moving higher, closer to your core. He kisses your hand too, mouthing at it with his tongue as if it were your mouth—or your pussy. You can’t believe something so innocent can feel so sexual, and you let out a stream of soft moans. With every passing second, you’re closer and closer to voicing out loud that it’s time for the main act.

Carmen seems to sense it—your need, your desperation. His gaze flickers up to your face, heavy-lidded, and he murmurs, “Don’t rush. Let me take care of you.” His voice is a low rasp, full of tenderness and heat.

The way he’s looking at you sends another ripple of arousal straight through you, and your breath catches when he pulls the soaked crotch of your panties aside, kissing your pussy for the first time.

“Fuck. Carmy,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

He hums against you, not letting up, giving you a hard lick—one that ends right at your sensitive clit. Your hands find his hair, threading through the soft strands as his lips and tongue explore you. You can feel his breath against your skin, the way it hitches every time you squirm or let out a sound. All the sensations are new, overwhelming, and intense in the best possible way.

Carmen doesn’t stop, doesn’t hesitate. His mouth is warm, deliberate, and unrelenting. The rough drag of his tongue paired with the softness of his lips makes your head spin. Each stroke feels like he’s memorizing you, mapping out what makes you gasp and moan with the precision of someone determined to get it right.

[ihaznoclue]

May I request Shadow the Hedgehog, Maybe that the reader is very close to shadow as well as Maria because the reader and Maria were siblings so the reader knew shadow

But since Shadow was sealed for 50 years the reader thought they lost both their sibling and a friend

But later on, maybe the reader and shadow reunite as reader runs to shadow and shadow doesn't believe it until the reader hugs him making him believe that the reader were alive and real

HE NEEDS A HUG MY POOR BBY

He does! Like My poor baby suffered enough :(

Pairings -> Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Warnings -> Past Trauma, Loss of a loved one

Note -> Reader is beginning to think they lost their sibling and their friend but they reunit with shadow after so many years of guilt

Genre -> Angst to Fluff

This might be a long story as I thought of writing something like this!

Shadow the Hedgehog

In the past years of living by yourself, you felt guilty for not being able to be there for them and to say a final goodbye.

In the past, you lost both your sister and your very best friend in a blow out at the G.U.N base, they simply wanted shadow to be gone but Maria didn't seem to let him go.

Sadly you were pulled out of the room where you are Maria and shadow who were just simply having a good time until the alarms went off, Gerald coming into the room to get them before it was to late.

One of the Gun men decided to shoot from getting 'orders from someone' as Walter tried to stop them causing them to miss but hit the tubes of orange stuff that caused them to explode.

That result in Maria dying and you weren't there to help her or say goodbye.

But you didn't know if Shadow was alive or not, simply thinking about it every single day to the point, it was like a big missing piece of your heart.

But to this very day you still think about them..

"Name! Come on, we are going camping!" Tom yelled out to you where you were sitting on kitchen table trying to write some stuff, you completely forget that you were going camping with the others.

That sort of helped you lighten up, you were willing to be happy for them. Tom and Maddie were like your parents but not really, you loved them dearly as they helped you in and gave you shelter. A home and a Family.

"Coming!" You shouted back as you quickly put on your shoes on as you tripped a little bit and ran outside closing the door behind you. Sonic, Tails and Knuckles were already in the back of the car.

"Oh Hun, your shoe laces" Maddie then kneeled down to do them for you. "Oh Thank you" You said waiting for her to finish with both of your shoes, she then patted your shoes to let you know she finished doing them.

She smiled at you and you smiled back as she pulled you in by wrapping a arm on your shoulder "You excited?" She asked

You nodded "I've never really went camping before"

"Well you are going to love it!" Maddie said as she shook you gently then walked to the car

You were going to have fun and you know it

"Come one Name! We are going Camping~" Sonic sang as he did a little dance, you chuckled as you opened the door at the back, putting your seatbelt on as you were ready to go.

The camping site wasn't too far away, it was in the bush where the lake was, it looks beautiful. The water sparkled from the sunlight, the bushes greener than ever. You never knew that the outside was this gorgeous.

When you were younger, you always looked out for Maria and stayed with her, she couldn't leave the base as her sickness became worse, only the time was when you and her got shadow to look at the stars.

-Flashback-

You were simply in the room trying to sleep but couldn't, shadow was sleeping peacefully beside you as you turned around to see if Maria was asleep but she wasn't there.

You lifted your head up to look around the room, suddenly the door slide open as Maria was smiling brightly

"Maria? What are you doing?" You asked but she shushed you, she then walked over to shadow as she gently woke him up as well causing him to look confused while being sleepy.

You tried not to laugh as you got out of the pillow fort, shadow following you as he held your hand as you two followed Maria to a lift

"Wait, Where are we going?" You asked, Maria simply such smile as she spoke

"you'll see~" She winked then pulled the lever of the lift when you and shadow were on it

The lift then stopped at the very top as a opening opened revealing such a gorgeous sight of so many stars, you stepped off the lift as you looked around to see so many white flowers on the ground of grass

"Oh wow" You were amazed

"This can be our very spot" She smiled once more, you loved her smile, very bright and happy even though she was suffering with a illness

You guys were all sitting down looking at the stars, shadow was sleeping on your lap, gently petting his head. You and Maria talked until you felt tired yourself as you yawned then leaned your head down on her shoulder

You missed those days..

But everything can't be the same as it use to be...

-End of flashback-

You and The Wachowski family were standing by as Sonic, Tails and Knuckles went to race, apparently sonic fell for it as he raced the holograms that Tails created

You ruffled his yellow soft fur as a good job as you all now started to prepare something special for sonic. His Bearthday birthday.

Now you were all having a fun time roasting marshmallows, this wasn't so bad. Camping was fun, spending with the right people, your family.

Thattsss until a helicopter came in, making everything blow away as sonic, tails and knuckles knew who these people were. But you..

Once you saw the word G.U.N you instantly was sent to the past on what happened to Maria and Shadow...

But you didn't say a word as you didn't want to ruin anything. Sonic, Tail and Knuckles was asked to go to Tokyo to save the people there from something so they agreed, leaving you, Tom and Maddie together.

You hoped they were going to be okay, they were like your younger brothers but.. aliens? Animals?

Either way you still hoped they were going to be okay, as the helicopter left. You, Tom and Maddie decided to go back home.

It's been a while since you heard from sonic, you were just resting on the couch along side with Tom and Maddie as they did some hobbies that they haven't done before.

They seemed bored and you were bored as well, you couldn't blame them as Sonic, Tails and Knuckles were the fun around the house, keeping everyone happy and charged up for some fun time.

You were laying on to the single couch, legs hanging from the arm rest while your head was on the other side of the arm rest. Sighing every time while Tom and Maddie did their stuff to entertain themselves.

You then heard a little noise as you look over to see a golden ring being opened, Tom and Maddie instantly stood up, you quickly sat up as you notice a familiar red colour

It was knuckles, a chaina round him and a pole behind him, you could also see a blue and yellow colour behind him

"Tom, Maddie, Name, we need your help on a super..." sonic paused, "Knuckles do you mind?"

"Oh excuse me" Knuckles said as he woddled around to show sonic as he then continued "Tom, Maddie, Name. We need your help on a super mission!" He shouted

Maddie and Tom just looked at each other "We're In!" They said together

Then everyone looked at you as you raised a hand up "Same here" You said as you smiled at sonic which caused him to be all excited for this mission

London, this is where the G.U.N base is and all you need to do is go with Maddie and Tom to put the USB that we got from tails to plug it in the device system

Sounds easy enough... except there are so many guards but luckily Tails is way ahead as he gave you guys holograms to change yourself into other people

While Tails is somewhere else, sonic on the bridge to be ready at any moment while knuckles was on the big clock to break glass.. for emergencies only

You, Maddie and Tom switched as you guys went into the base up to the front which caused Maddie to go into character a little bit too much

Now you guys were in the device system to plug into the USB so Tails could get into the system itself but unfortunately there was another one that look like

Eggman's?

"Eggman is here?" You asked as you looked at Tom as he told tails there was another USB already plugged into the thing

Now everything went very bad, Eggman was maybe already up the key, Tom told you to hide somewhere as he heard people coming so you quickly hid as you saw Maddie and Tom get caught as they walked out of the room that you were hiding in

"Damn it.." You then crouched and then fully stood up walking to the door as you looked out to see no-one so you went out and tried to find Tom and Maddie

A lot of chaos happened in one go as you heard a crash on the building above you, might of been knuckles which meant that something was happening because he was meant to break glass in case of emergencies

Now you were lost

"This base is a maze" You whined as you ran every corner until you were met with..

A hedgehog?

You then looked down to see a familiar face, realizing it was..

"TOM!" You shouted out causing the hedgehog ears to flick at the suddenly shout as you ran to Tom

"Tom? Tom.." You shook him to see if he was going to wake up, you felt like crying at that moment at he didn't seem to flinch or move at all

He seriously hurt

Your brows furrow as you looked at the culprit to only see a familiar hedgehog in your eyes

Your breath hitched, it had also seem that shadow noticed you as well as you two stared at each other

You heard him say your name in a soft voice, your tears started to swell up in your eyes

"Shadow..."

The you heard sonics voice shout out for Tom that caused Shadow to grab you and then teleport both of you out of that spot causing to look confused for a moment

You were now in a quiet and empty room, the lights dim as if this room was no longer needed for anything

You noticed that you sitting down, you then started to look around the room to see if you could spot shadow anywhere

You eventually did as he was a couple steps in front of you, you could see his crimson eyes looking at you

Looking at your every move that you did

"Shadow.. Is it really you?"

You heard a little huff meaning that was yes

Your body now moving on its own as you started to stand up as if you were really happy to see him again

Shadow noticed as he didn't move a muscle, seeing your tired and sad face made him knew that you missed him dearly then he saw you running to him causing him to widen his eyes at the suddenly movement

You run at him and then hugged him causing him to fall over, your face on his chest fur as you were now crying, tightening your arms around him

Shadow didn't believe it at first if you were real or not but he now knows that you were here with him at this very moment

You then felt furry arms wrap around you, a hand holding on the back of your head as the other was on your back, feeling that shadow was trembling as he heard you sob

As you two held each other for the very first time in forever..

I got lazy at the end :P

-A<3

[cybershock24601]

Some more telanovela Rookanis ideas but now I'm thinking about Caterina who's made her peace with Rook staying in Lucanis life but still wants him to have a proper wife especially since its not like Lucanis or Rook have made any sort indication that they plan to get married anytime soon so it shouldn't be much of an issue to arrange a marriage for Lucanis while Rook stays as his mistress.

It's not like Caterina hasn't tried to arrange something for Lucanis before because she's been wanting great grandbabies to carry on the Dellamorte name for years but Lucanis simply never seemed interested. Now that Lucanis is with someone Caterina thinks there may be a chance for her to get him engaged to someone suitable for his station.

So Caterina starts reaching out to allied Houses and even some merchant princes to arrange something. Suddenly Villa Dellamorte is getting visits from different well bred girls to try their luck in catching the eye of the First Talon. It doesn't work at all. Lucanis politely refuses all their advances without even properly acknowledging their suits and even takes to making grand and public gestures of affection towards Rook in hopes of deterring them and assuring Rook that his heart still lies with her.

Rook knows Lucanis loves her and only her, has no worries about their relationship, and knows this all has to be Caterina's doing. Still, Rook is actually pretty jealous and possessive and absoutley seething about this disrecpt to her, Lucanis, and their relationship. Rook manages to keep her cool about the sitation and let Lucanis handle the situation however he sees fit but snaps when one of Lucanis' suitors says some dumb shit about not minding Rook staying around as the mistress.

There's this banter between Neve and Emmrich about a charm seller in Tevinter that is scamming people with fake magical charms. Emmrich is appalled by the danger it represents to the public and suddenly the guy is seeing and hearing things and essentially just being haunted to hell and back. Well, pretty much anyone that comes around attempting to woo Lucanis goes home suffering many of the same symptoms. Seeing things out of the corner of their eye, voices whispering and laughing about their worst secrets and insecurities, their nights filled with unending nightmares.

Anyone tries to ask Rook about the sudden uptick in hauntings and Rook plays dumb. Comes up with some vapid excuse full of jargon that any actual necromancer would spot immediately and acts so concerned about the issue but she doesn’t crack and it’s a little scary just how well Rook is able to lie to everyone’s faces because if it weren’t incredibly obvious that Rook had to be the one behind the hauntings, they’d probably believe her. Teia resolves to never get on Rook’s bad side and Viago is pondering how best to create a hallucinogenic to simulate the effects because the way Rook has crippled whole Houses with fear is inspiring. Illario is suddenly doing a whole lot to try to to get into Rook’s good books and Rook is so off put by his behavior that’s she tells him to please stop and go back to being the bitch he is, she honestly likes him better that way.

Lucanis skirts around the issue with Rook and continues to try to assure her that he loves her and only her to which Rook responds that she knows and loves him too but that doesn’t mean she’s willing to sit idly by while people disrespect the depths of their love for each other which is about as close as to a confession Rook gives. Spite asks Rook about it too on a late night after Lucanis has gone to bed and Rook’s response to him is basically “yeah” and Spite lets out the most gleeful cackle Rook’s ever heard because he is delighted by her spiteful vengeance.

The hauntings start to taper off once Lucanis’ suitors stop coming around and the girl that started all this even came to Rook to beg her to make it all stop. Rook, still pretty pissed about her comments, continued to play dumb and essentially gaslit her the whole conversation but did stop the haunting a few days later because she’s not a monster and did feel a little bad the whole situation.

In the end Caterina’s scheme backfired horribly on her as it damaged her relationship with many of the houses she reached out for and strengthened Rook’s own position in the Crows because before she was generally seen as charming, affable, a little creepy due to the whole necromancer thing, and a bit foolish due to Rook’s willingness to make herself the butt of a joke but no one really took her seriously due to mismatch of her personality and reputation as a god killer so most of the Houses assumed her feats were exaggerated, now everyone is kinda terrified of Rook and what she can do. Whereas before people might have yielded to the former First Talon when she called in a favor, now they have to consider whether it would be worth it to cross scary necromancer Rook to do so. Rook basically ends up with a reputation amongst the Crows intimidating enough to match with the Demon of Vyrantium.

During and after this Rook probably gets a few letters from the Necropolis mostly from Emmrich, Myrna, and Vorgoth as they definitely heard about the uptick in hauntings in Antiva and every single one of those letter essentially amounted to asking Rook “really?” to which Rook replied “yes and I feel perfectly justified in doing so” but in more words and without ever outright admitting to her actions.

It’s also after all this that Lucanis officially asks Rook to marry him, something they had been holding off on because they wanted to spend some time finding their footing in their relationship before jumping into the craziness of planning a wedding. Lucanis doesn’t want anyone thinking he isn’t serious about Rook after everything that just happened and Rook gets her chance for revenge against Caterina because now she’s going to have to contend with Vorgoth in the wedding planning process. Vorgoth has been putting together a binder of all their wedding ideas for Rook for years and is very excited to finally be able to execute them.

[radiantmists]

Haven't finished my day one fic but here's my entry for @charles-rowland-week Day 2: Chorb!

I see a lot of cute orb-ghost content and love it, but for some reason when I sat down to write my brain went: that experience must be terrifying on both ends. Especially if it happens when they're pushed to the brink, a circumstance that otherwise leads to ghosts just... dissolving. Especially the first time.

So here's the first time!

***

Charles can't remember how he got here; he hasn't really got any idea where here is, except that the ground he's lying on is too hard and the light is so bright it burns his eyes whenever he opens them.

Though that might actually be something wrong with his eyes, judging by how much the rest of him hurts. He must have pissed someone off real bad, to be in this much pain, but he can't remember who or why. He hopes it was worth it.

"Charles," says a voice, a voice he knows. Edwin's here, and he sounds upset, and like he's trying to hide it. Charles manages to pry his eyes open for half a moment before the searing pain forces them shut again, but in that brief second he gets a glimpse of Edwin-- just his neck and the bottom of his face, the harsh press of his mouth.

Charles has seen that expression before, knows it comes along with wide eyes that give away what might look like frustration otherwise; this is the face Edwin makes when he's terrified.

Edwin shouldn't be terrified. Charles tries to reach for where he thinks he was, to comfort him, but just the idea of moving his arm reminds him of how much his shoulders hurt, and he half-screams before he can swallow the sound.

"Charles, just-- just lie still a moment," Edwin says beyond the roaring of his ears, and it shouldn't be a hard request with how much moving hurts, but Charles doesn't think he can bear to lie here like this much longer, the ground digging into him and the pain burning through his bones.

There's something wrong about that. Charles shouldn't be able to feel the ground, however hard it is; he doesn't actually have bones to burn.

He's dead, but he's still hurting, somehow, and that doesn't seem fair, does it? He'd sort of thought he'd escaped it, for a while. Maybe a little pain was the cost of being alive, but now-- unable to feel any good thing-- it just feels cruel.

He's so tired of hurting.

"Charles," Edwin's voice breaks through again, only this time the tone is different, somewhere beyond fear. "Charles, please, don't-- please just stay--"

His voice breaks on the plea. Because he is pleading, which is all kinds of wrong. Edwin doesn't beg when he's terrified; he goes silent and still like a hunted rabbit, which Charles hates with all his being but he hates this too. Edwin shouldn't beg. He shouldn't have to, not with Charles, who has embarked on the afterlife-long project of making him as happy as possible.

Not going anywhere, he tries to say, but his mouth doesn't want to obey him and instead he just sort of groans. He can't move his fingers-- he's not sure he has fingers, right now. They don't hurt anymore, but he can't really feel them either.

He remembers that: losing his fingers first, then his toes, then more and more. Edwin had been there then, too, strange and funny and unbelievably kind, and Charles hadn't had the chance to worry about his toes. Edwin had given him that gift, the gift of not being scared, and then he'd tried to run off like it was nothing, like after all that he'd thought Charles would just leave Edwin to the lingering terror in his eyes when he spoke of Hell.

That terror has never left completely, despite Charles' best efforts. He's started to think it never will, and the thought hurts, but at least he'd thought it was getting better; except now Edwin is terrified, and he's the one begging Charles to stay. He's still talking, somewhere beyond the pain, and though Charles can't make out the words, that heartbreaking tone is still there.

Charles isn't leaving him. He refuses. But he can't bear this either, the pain making it so hard to think, to remember. Edwin's voice is a lifeline, but it's getting more and more difficult to hear it, and he's not sure it's just the ringing anymore.

He's a ghost. He doesn't have ears to ring, not really, or bones to ache or eyes to burn when he opens them. Piece by piece, half on purpose and half unable to hold on, he lets it all slip away, until all that's left is the conviction: whatever happens, he wants to stay.

It feels a little like changing his hair, the way Edwin had taught him, just holding on to what he wants until that's what he is.

Mostly, though, it feels like dying.

***

He knows less and more, like this. He doesn't know where he is, and there's no feeling to help him guess, no pain or light or voice in the ears he doesn't have anymore. He doesn't know how he got here, doesn't know how long he's been here, doesn't even know who he is, really.

But he's not confused, because what he knows is this: he's dead, and it's not fucking fair, because he had so much left to do. He knows he was going to do better, that he was going to fix things, and now he'll never have the chance. Part of him seethes at that, and part of him just wants to take the hint and stop trying.

Except he also knows, somehow, that he does have another chance. That he's still here, even if he can't feel or taste or smell-- or even see or hear. That he can move things, somehow, change them, sometimes even fix them. He can solve crimes and save lives and on very good days he can make Edwin laugh.

He remembers that, the last time he'd made Edwin laugh-- just a little chuckle, really, but helplessly sincere, and the smile had stayed on his lips when he'd said, really, Charles--

The world unfolds around that voice speaking his name, first just memory into sound and then the awareness of ears to hear it, of a head to turn toward it and arms to push himself up, of something soft and forgiving under his palms, and of eyes he can open to see Edwin's face, remarkably close and blinking with surprise that, as Charles watches, collapses into relief.

"You came back," Edwin breathes. From this close, Charles can see the tears well in his eyes. Edwin, who he's seen burn half his hand off without even noticing, is crying over Charles.

It's not really a choice, to reach out with hands that still look a little misty and pull Edwin close. Edwin clutches him back, curling his hands in the back of Charles' shirt and tucking his chin over Charles's shoulder like if he just holds Charles close enough, he can hold him together.

Maybe he can. Charles curls his own fingers into Edwin's coat, breathes deep just to feel his ribs expand into Edwin's grip, ghost-cool but firm and real, real, real.

"I was afraid you were gone," Edwin says.

I was too, Charles doesn't say.

"Told you," he murmurs instead, "you're stuck with me."