#and theres four (five) of them and everything!!!!

[zxal]

Four swords manga redraw with the heart hotel i've been wanting to do for ages ft. strelitzia who doesn't know any of the lore

[bittwitchy]

sometimes i wonder if ppl realize when u show them things u spent a lot of time working on and they just insult it and say shit like ‘oh i havent heard that artist i still recognized the lyrics of instantly in ages and im too adult for that now’ and essentially start insulting your work bc theyre too big and cool to not be an asshole, that like, theyre just being an asshole

[reidmania]

baked away | spencer reid

spencer reid x (fem) reader

description ;

anxiety doesn’t help when your boyfriend is away on a case — good thing baking does.. until it gets too much, good thing Spencer comes home.

hurt/comfort

warnings ;

mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, reader likes avoiding their feelings (same), talks about not eating properly or sleeping, ignoring phone calls, stress baking (also same) idk if there is any mention of gender but i said fem reader just incase their was. if theres anything i missed let me know!!

an ; pls this is #relatable

The house smelt of all sorts of baked good, cupcakes, cookies, brownies, you name it - there was a tray of it sitting on the kitchen counter, or the dining table since the counter grew rather full pretty quickly.

When Spencer was away for work, it wasn’t abnormal for your anxiety to peak. The pit in your stomach would deepen, your chest would feel tighter and your brain was working overtime pumping thoughts so often it crossed over the line to overthinking within minutes.

Baking helped somewhat.

Spencer knew your love for baking, cooking, anything to do with it — you loved. He knew you baked when you were stress, but he wasn’t aware of the extent of it.

Normally, by the time he was back from a case you had already given away majority of your baked goods to anyone who would take them — your parent’s, your neighbours, homeless shelters, book stores, anywhere that accepted them.

This time your anxiety seemed at an all time high this week, you couldn’t remember the last time you were able to sleep, your mind never slowing down enough to close your eyes for more than a couple of minutes. You weren’t sure what exactly had made it this bad — Spencer was away for a case. It just like any other time he was away, expect it wasn’t.

Your mind couldn’t stop thinking about all the things that could possibly happen while he was away. You were so distracted that you had been sent home from work on Monday, and given the rest of the week off because your boss genuinely believed you were sick.

Being home didn’t help — you were without any distractions, which ultimately led to the state of the kitchen. There were eight trays of cookies, five of brownies and nearly ten of cupcakes. You hadn’t left the kitchen in days — besides going to the shops whenever you ran out of ingredients, which had been 6 times, in the last four days.

Baking was a good distraction, your mind was able to focus on the measurements you needed, and the time things needed to bake that it didn’t focus on the fact your boyfriend may be in serious danger.

You hadn’t checked your phone, too scared that maybe if you looked it would be a text saying that something happened to Spencer — and while you would want to know if something did happen, avoidance seemed easier to cope with.

You were in the middle of making another batch of brownies when the door clicked open. You were busy muttering to yourself to hear it — too focused on focusing on the brownies.

Spencer walked into the house, a slight sense of panic. You hadn’t answered your phone in days — He assumed maybe you were busy, but it didn’t stop him panicking like a mad man and taking it out on the rest of the team until he was able to come home.

A wave of relief washed over him when he breathed in the scent of baked goods, not just any — yours.

“Baby?” He called out as he kicked off his shoes, placing his case on the ground next to the door, the lack of response made his eyebrows furrow as he walked towards the sweet smell.

He called your name, before he stepped into the kitchen, only for his eyes to widen as he looked over the state of it, while still maintaining a clean appearance — dishes wise, his eyes scanned over the numerous trays of deserts scattered over the counter and dining room table.

You finally looked up, meeting his eyes there was like a switch in your brain that went off — he was okay — he was home and he was safe and everything was okay.

“Spence!” You smiled widely as you quickly turned to place the brownies in the oven before shuffling towards him, pulling the apron off over your head, it was covered in flour and coco power of sorts.

He smiled as you came towards him, the minute he was in reach your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, breathing in his scent which calmed every muscle in your body. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you flush against his body just as tight. “I missed you” You murmured into the crook of his neck.

He breathed out a chuckle as your words came out muffled by his skin. “Did you?” He asked, tone almost joking, which only caused you to furrow your eyebrows as you leant out of his grasp.

You didn’t say anything but your confused look was enough for him to understand you were not getting his point. “You didn’t any of my calls in days.” He sighed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows before your eyes widened. “Oh- oh!” You said, spinning on your heels as you searched around the kitchen to look for your phone. “Oh my gosh, I have been so distracted, I am so sorry!” You rushed around apologetically.

He smiled, shaking his head. “It’s alright, angel. Why don’t you tell me why we look like we are opening a bakery?” He asked, leaning forward to take a cupcake out of its tray.

You looked around the kitchen realising he was right — it did look like you were about to have a grand opening. You lips pulled into a frown as you looked back to meet his gaze.

He was biting into the cupcake, eyes still on you with his eyebrow raised as if waiting for an answer — you deflected. “Those are chocolate and honey, sounds weird right? They smelt good but I haven’t tried any, is it alright?” You asked.

He nodded his head, “Yeah they’re good” He confirmed, taking another bite, you smiled as you pinched your nose, sighing. “I didn’t ask what flavour it was” He muttered.

“Huh?”

He chuckled, placing the cupcake down on the bench — protected by the lining. He walked up to you, brushing a few stray hairs from your face as he took in your appearance. “I asked why you baked so much and you told me what flavour cupcake I was eating” He recalled.

You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. “Whats happened?” He asked, concern lacing not only his tone but also all over his features. You could see it in the wrinkle between his eyebrows as he looked down at you.

“Nothing happened.” You answered — because nothing happened. How were you supposed to say you baked hundreds of deserts because you were simply worried about him — it was pathetic and embarrassing and not something you wanted to admit.

He frowned, “Then whats wrong?” He asked, he just wanted a little bit on insight into your mind, what you were thinking — why it got to this point.

You sighed, dragging your hand up to your hair, pushing it back out of your face. “I just needed a distraction, I guess I went a little bit overboard” You muttered.

“Distraction from what?” He asked:

You chuckled, trying to push away the pressure of his question. “I don’t know? My mind?” You shrugged as if it was nothing — because to you this was normal despite how normal it wasn’t.

“Why?”

“Is this an interview?” You counteracted. You didn’t mean to come off defensive but the whole point of baking to almost the point of insanity was so you didn’t have to think about everything that your mind was rushing though and now Spencer wanted you to blurt it out. The lack of sleep and lack of sufficient food consumption over the last few days may also play a part in your slight outburst.

His frown only deepened. He took your hand wordlessly leading you to your shared bedroom. You didn’t bother fighting it, instead following him.

“Sit.” He instructed, his tone indicated there was no room for argument. You sat down on the bed, not even thinking you had enough energy to argue anyway. The adrenaline you were running off in baking was wearing off now that you knew Spencer was safe, allowing you to feel the lack of sleep.

He sat down next to you, eyes running over your own. “When did you last sleep?” He asked softly, the back of his finger running gently over your cheek as he noticed the bags under your eyes.

You shrugged.

He sighed, “Im a profiler baby, its my job to know whats going on without being told, so I can do that if thats what you’d like, but it would be a lot easier if you talked to me” He said softly.

You hated that, you hated that it was physically impossible to hide anything from him because it was literally his job to find out what people were hiding.

“I was too in my head.” You confess quietly. “I couldn’t sleep, or focus at work, my boss told me to take the week off for Christ sake. I couldn’t eat — I couldn’t do anything” You rambled.

He listened intently to every word that left your lips, taking in your tone and expression. “Why honey?” He urged, thats what he wanted to know — Why.

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the things that could’ve happened, it was like every worst case scenario in my head all at once no matter what, everytime I closed my eyes I saw it, I felt sick to my stomach constantly — i think i had more panic attacks this week than I have in months Spence.” You continued rambling on, it was like a weight off your chest the more you spoke.

He felt his chest ache at your words — you were feeling like this and he wasn’t there. “What were you thinking about angel?” He asked, his voice threatening to break just as much as yours.

“You. All the things that could happen to you— don’t apologise and don’t feel bad. Im your girlfriend its my job to worry about you. Its never been this bad before, it was just.. really bad this time” Your hand reached your face to wipe the hot tear that fell from your eyes as you talk, your voice giving out on you.

“Oh darling.” His arms were around you instantly. “I am so sorry” He apologised despite your comment telling him not to — how couldn’t he when his girlfriend was driving herself half insane because she was worried about him.

“I was calling you whenever I could” He sighed into her hair, heart tightening as he felt her body shake with the sob that left her lips as he buried her face in his chest. “Im okay, I am right here okay? God baby Im so sorry.” His apologies came out in strings.

You shook your head in his chest, wanting to tell him to shut up — not to apologise for doing his job but you couldn’t, the lump in your throat felt too thick to swallow and words came out silent.

His arms tightened around you. “You know you can go to the office anytime yeah? Garcia is always there and she adores you, you can always go see her if your head feels a bit too messy okay?” He said softly.

You nodded.

You and Spencer stayed like that for a few minutes, before your tears came to a stop, you pulled away to look at his face — seeing he had been crying himself, his cheeks flushed and eyes red.

“Im sorry” You apologised.

He shook his head. “No, you aren’t allowed to do that, you’re not allowed to be sorry for something you can’t control honey.” He was quick to dismiss your apology, there was nothing you needed to apologise for.

He leant in to place a soft gentle kiss across your lips, hands tightening around your waist as his other hand pressed into the small of your back, pushing you closer to him before he pulled away.

“Let’s go get some real food okay? Then we can figure out what to do with your miniature bakery okay?” He muttered, forehead pressed against yours.

“Okay.” You said softly.

He smiled, “Okay.”

[jyoongim]

BLOOD & BLISS

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

Chapter four chapter six

Chapter Five

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Something smelled.

Every time you entered the kitchen, a putrid scent would assault your nose.

You didnt know where the smell was coming from, but you were determined to find it.

You had cleaned every inch of the kitchen, thinking it was some old food you had failed to dispose of.

But it still lingered.

You followed your nose, trying to locate the smell.

It led you to the cellar.

Did some animal get in and die from the heat? You mentally groaned at the thought at having to find some decomposed vermin and having to clean it up.

You held your reflex to gag as you descended the stairs. God it was rancid.

You didnt even bother to turn on the light as you traveled down to investigate. You looked around and from what you could see nothing was out of the ordinary.

But there was trash bags stuffed in a corner.

Alastor usually did well in making sure the trash didnt overflow, but you guess he had forgot.

Mustve been the deer you thought as you grabbed the bags and tried to move them.

But one bag was all too heavy for you to carry.

You huffed and grabbed at it again, thinking that carrying it at a different angle would help, but the contents of the bag shifted and must have not been sealed properly as something spilled out.

Cold, slimy liquid splashed your bare feet and you cringed.

This was definitely what was causing the smell.

Your stomach did flips as the smell assaulted your senses.

You figured you needed the light and made your way to find the switch.

Now seeing your surroundings clearly, you turned to see where you left the bag and froze.

Red. 

That’s what your eyes registered first. 

Thick red liquid was leaking out of the bag and when you approached further to the dumped contents your blood ran cold.

Was that a hand?

You felt bile rush into your throat.

There must be some mistake…what was a…a body doing in your cellar?

You shook your head and waddled back up the stairs.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You were frazzled.

You poured yourself a glass of water. Maybe there was an explanation for this. There had to be right?

You took a deep breath. There was a body in your cellar. There was a dead person in your cellar. Could you even consider them a person? The state they were in…

Your eyes drifted to the pot on the stove. You approached the pot and opened it. The beef stew Alastor made. You sniffed it.

It smelled normal.

You picked up a piece of meat and examined it.

It didnt look like any meat you knew.

Your stomach curled as realization dawned on you.

Your husband had fed you human meat…

Your head was in the trash can before you knew it. Throwing up the water you had just sipped.

NO NO NO. NO NONO NO NO

You made your way to your pager, the line beeped and the deep brawl of your husband answered “Honey! Is everything ok? Im kind of busy”

You were panting, shock settling in you “I-I just wanted to know if you could come home straight from work today?”

The man chuckled “Of course dear. Why don’t you rest a bit you sound rattled” you bid him goodbye and sat on the couch.

Theres no way this was happening…

——————————————————————————————

Alastor quirked a brow when you didn’t come to greet him home.

The house was dimly lite except for the kitchen.

He smiled and found you sitting at the table, rubbing your swollen belly.

”You’re not indulging in a late night drink are you my dear?” He nodded towards the bottle of whiskey and glass in front of you.

You jumped slightly, having not heard him come home.

You quickly gathered yourself and have a shaky smile “of c-course not. I thought after a long week you would like to whine down”

He let out a low hum and made himself a glass.

Alastor noticed how you seemed…nervous.

You didn’t met his gaze and fidgeted in your seat.

”What’s troubling you cherie?” He asked downing the drink.

You wanted to blurt out and question him about the thing in your cellar, but you didnt know how he would react.

You had to wait for the right moment.

So you shook your head with a smile “Baby been giving me trouble that’s all. Didn’t realize how much I missed doing simple things without being out of breathe”

He laughed and leaned to place a kiss on your temple, a large hand over your very big bump. “You should take it easy. I told you you ain’t have to do anything. Just sit pretty and grow our child”

Your heart buzzed. 

There was no way your husband, your Alastor was a killer.

Maybe the hormones was making you delirious.

Maybe it really WAS just a deer carcass.

But you were certain you saw right…

”Did you clean today? You know chemicals aren’t good for you to be around. You shouldn’t be putting unnecessary stress on yourself darlin”

You pouted, wrinkling your nose “Something was rotten. You know how I feel about my kitchen Al.”

If you didnt know your husband, you wouldnt have noticed when he tensed up, but as quickly as it happened, it passed.

”Rotten?” He asked, face frowning.

You nodded “I threw out the strew, I think it went bad”

Alastor’s fingers drummed on your stomach and then he shrugged.

”guess Ill have to do better next time” he pulled you up and lead you unstairs to rest for the night.

”Guess Ill have to do better next time” what did that mean?

You had got dressed for bed and settled beside Alastor who pulled you to snuggle into his side.

You let out a yawn, eyes getting heavy “Al?”

He hummed in acknowledgment as he looked over some scripts.

“You would tell me if something was troubling you right?”

He glanced down to see you looking at him.

”Of course dear why?”

You shook your head, closing your eyes 

“Nothing just wondering”

Your soft snores filled the room and Alastor let out a sigh as he set down the papers.

He slipped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.

He looked around. While he had made sure to thoroughly clean up his mess, your cleaning was another level.

He sniffed and nothing but chemicals greeted his senses.

Something was rotten

Could you have…

He made his way down into the cellar. Flicking the light on, his eyes scanned the room.

The black trash bags were still in place.

His eyes narrowed noticing the red liquid coming from th bag.

Oh that just wont do.

He hauled the bag over his shoulder and went into the backyard.

Alastor wouldnt let his clean reality be faltered by his sinful deeds.

After all…

you didn’t need to know your husband dirty little secret….

—————————————————————————————————

Hi Jyoongim here !

I am at the point of the story where everything is now about to shit and dont know how long this story will be. Im thinking at least five more chapters (They will be long) but who knows. Blood and Bliss WILL have a second series, but until then…i would like to address something…. The next few chapters will have heavy themes. As a black writer i feel it is important that I show the history of my people and what African Americans had to deal with in the early centuries in the South United States. With that being said; be mindful and open-minded about the themes that will appear in the next few chapters Thank you

————————————————————————

@th3-st4r-gur1 @yourdoorisunlocked @popamolly @doggone-devil @rulesareshadesofgrey @zombiesnips-blog @boney-horse @ilikemyteawithmilk @alastor-simp @alastorsgirl48 @alastors666creampie @alastwhore666 @alastorssimp @alastorsaries @al1fers-haven @dasimp777 @thewinchestah @certifiedcrybabyyy @markster666 @okay-babe @catherine1206 @angelicorpses @hazelfoureyes @yunimimii @smoky000 @siiv3r @southern-bayou-beau @luzzbuzz @karolinda007-blog @catmunist @ivebeenthearchersstuff @evedenn @luluxx118 @vexendoe @preciousbabypeter @justtnat @willowshadenox @celestial-vomit @over-the-little-blue-house @impulsivethoughtsat2am @purplecatsandhearts @strawberrypimp666 @peachedtvs @peachedtv @altruisticalastor @chanty-loves-turtles @cxrsedwxrlds @nightshadelm @theangeliclibrarian @voxsmalewife

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Great Balls Of Fire

Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 9k words (ik. i did it again. im sorry)

summary: It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.

a/n: smut ahead. 18+ im serious theres smut theres a lot of smut. okay. as usual i will now list everything you may have to look out for

fancy ass lingerie, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyre in a committed relationship theyve had the talk and all), a lot of begging, hair pulling, good girl's because yes, in general again bradley is a talker, otherwise that's it

top gun masterlist

It had been so long. It had been too long.

With the sun beating down hard on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunglasses on your nose doing their hardest to protect your eyes from the worst of the light, the sound of your heels clicking against solid ground as you took a few steps into the shade of the tree next to Bradley's Bronco. You had been waiting for ten minutes now, checking your phone what seemed like every five seconds, too nervous to actually pay attention to it but too nervous to keep calm either.

You had been so scared you would crash into a grandma on the way over here that you had honestly considered taking your own car instead of the Bronco - but Bradley had trusted you with it, had trusted you to keep his lady running, you, even though he never let anyone else as much as touch the steering wheel, and you would be damned if you didn't pick him up in it.

You hadn't seen him in four months. Four months.

You had been by yourself, had been on your own, had been lonely for four fucking months.

But today was the day you would see him again. Today was the day his oh-so-secret mission would finally, truly come to an end, the day that you would finally, truly see him again. Not over some low-quality video call in the middle of the night, with only your kitchen lights on in the background and your mind hazy and tired because he was nine hours ahead of you and seemed to be at the other end of the world - no, today you would finally, finally, finally see him in the flesh.

You'd been anticipating this moment for the past four months.

So this had to be perfect.

This would be perfect.

You had done everything possible to make this the most perfect day of his goddamn life. You had spent the last four months moving things from the old apartment to the new house - those things that you and him hadn't already moved anyway - and the past week, you'd been cleaning, decorating, anticipating.

He had told you so often how much he missed you. How much he wished he had been there for you, to help you pack the things, to help you take them apart and put them back together, to do more than just the paperwork and set up the bed and the couch.

But he couldn't. And now you were bubbling with nervous excitement, with the joy of sharing all of it with him, to show him the desk you'd put up in the bedroom, the pillows you'd bought for the couch, the paintings you'd hung up on the walls, the kitchen table you'd replaced, the kitchen tiles you'd painted. To show him how much better this new home was than the old apartment had been (even though you'd been very happy there for the past four years as well).

And Bradley would love it. You were sure of that.

You just wanted him to see it so desperately.

You looked up as another car approached - it wasn't Bradley, you knew that, Bradley would come out of that door opposite you, not out of a car, but... There was still some tiny little sliver of hope, the same way there had been every single goddamn time someone had rung your doorbell. It had only ever been the postman or your food.

The car stopped next to you. You watched the engine being turned off and the driver get out because, well, what else was there to do except nervously shift your weight from one leg onto the other and go insane?

So you watched the stranger hop out of their car, nodded politely at them and then refocused your attention on the tips of your sandals. At least you weren't the only one waiting here anymore.

You got out your phone again, checked the time (it'd been a minute and a half since you'd last looked at it) and let out a sigh.

It wasn't that Bradley was late. There wasn't really a "late" anyway, he'd only been able to give you a vague time he'd arrive on, but still. You'd been buzzing with nervous energy for over a week.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, wiped your sweaty palms off on the sundress you'd put on - the tiny yellow sundress that Bradley had picked out for you on your birthday last year. The tiny yellow sundress that hid the sinful white lingerie under it just perfectly. The sinful white lingerie that you had bought for this very moment.

Bradley would go feral for it, you knew that. He loved white. You thought it was because it looked innocent, chaste. Like something untainted, something waiting to be ruined. Not that you minded. One day, he had promised himself, he would admit to you that it was because it looked like something you would wear on your wedding night.

But either way, you had gone shopping for the perfect set of lingerie and you were more than happy with your final choice.

Bradley could unwrap you like a present. You were desperately hoping he would unwrap you like a present.

You had spent the last four months not doing anything other than hoping. Imagining. Remembering.

So you weren't surprised that you felt like you'd soaked through those pretty (and expensive) panties already.

Your breath hitched. You shifted your weight again.

Bradley would carry you in his big, strong arms over the doorstep, would push you against the wall, would take everything he wanted from you and give everything you needed - he'd pull your dress right off and, at the sight of your lingerie, would fuck you raw.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep you grounded. Four months away had been a long, long time. Four months in which you'd only had yourself, your fingers, your vibrator to keep you company - four months in which you'd only heard Bradley's moans spill over the phone, had only heard him call you honey and good girl through a low-quality mic, had only seen him on pictures he'd left you, on a tiny screen at best.

You were depraved. And pretty sure you'd fall apart at the first touch.

You were so immersed in your thoughts, in that lovely imagery you had created in your head, that you almost missed the door opening. Finally. Finally. You straightened up at once.

It wasn't Bradley who stepped out first - it was one of his colleagues, you guessed, with blonde hair and much shorter - but it was Bradley who stepped out second. You'd know him from miles away.

He strode out of the door and into the sunlight, all familiar brown curls and broad shoulders and Ray-Bans on his nose and an Hawaiian shirt on and his bag lazily slung over his shoulder and that moustache - by god you'd have killed him if he'd shaved that off!

He turned his head and looked at you and a grin broke out on your lips, so wide, so incredibly wide that it felt like it'd split your face in half and before you could think, before you could form any coherent thought you were already moving, your legs with a mind of their own. You were sprinting towards him. Sprinting all through the parking lot, your heels click-clicking on the pavement, and Bradley grinned, grinned and let his bag fall to the ground carelessly, opened his arms instead. Wide, so wide. He was so tall. So broad. So inviting as you ran at him, as you jumped at him, as you wrapped your arms and your legs around him at the same time, as he caught you effortlessly, as your lips landed on his.

As you crashed into him, completely, and he didn't even stagger an inch back.

You had missed four months of this.

And now his lips were on yours. Your legs around his waist. Your arms crossed behind his neck. His breath against your mouth. His lips parted. His tongue against yours.

You were desperate. And you could feel just how desperate he was, too.

You could feel all the passion, all the fiery, red passion, all the force and firmness put into this kiss as his tongue ran along yours, as your breaths met and mingled, as his hands dug into your thighs to keep you upright, to keep you snug to him.

You pulled back incredibly reluctantly. You didn't want to let go of him. You never wanted to let go of him ever again. You wanted to have him, all of him, right here, right now, and then for eternity. But you couldn't, you couldn't because this was the middle of the parking lot, and also because you at least wanted to say hello first.

So you blinked open your eyes and took him in and allowed yourself to grin as broad and as wide as you needed to right now.

"You're back", you whispered, just because that realisation still had to sink in. "You're really back."

Bradley nuzzled your nose with his and let out a hum - god, how you'd missed him. The feel of him, the sound of him.

"Yeah, I'm here, honey", he muttered, that smile of his dripping down onto his voice. "I'm here and I won't leave any time soon."

You couldn't help but lean in again, couldn't help but capture his lips again because how else, how on earth would you let him feel all the joy you were experiencing right now? You didn't even know if you could actually feel all of it. You definitely wouldn't be able to put it into words. So you dug your teeth into his bottom lip and sighed into him and pulled him closer, closer and closer, even further into you.

"I missed you", you breathed against his mouth. "I love you and I missed you, Bradley."

He chuckled, kissed you again, drew back just enough to still touch you somehow, to still have his lips on your skin somehow and be able to talk at the same time.

"I love you so much, honey", he muttered. "And I missed you so much."

And then his lips were on yours again, his fingers digging even harder into your thighs, his breath and his tongue and his moustache scratching against your skin and you moaned, because there was no more anything you could possibly have done, because you couldn't help yourself, because you couldn't stop yourself, because you didn't want to either. You wanted to let him know just how goddamn fucking much you'd missed him.

Bradley had to bite back a laugh, pulled back and looked at you through his sunglasses.

"Sounds like we should get home, honey", he said, his eyebrows raised and his smile deepening with every word. "Been waiting for that for four months."

You let out another soft moan, pushed yourself even closer to him, dug one hand into the back of his hair and scratched the other down his shoulders, down his shirt. You wanted to feel him. All of him. God, the ride home would take ten minutes. Ten minutes. How were you supposed to survive that?

"Please", you whispered onto his lips, and you didn't think you had ever meant it as much as you did now.

Bradley groaned and kissed you again, quickly, heatedly, his tongue running along your bottom lip and then pulling back again. This wasn't enough. This wasn't enough.

He set you down on the pavement again softly, your legs a bit wobbly, unsteady, and trailed one hand from your thigh to your back - anything to keep touching you as he bent down to pick up his bag again. You smiled up at him, smoothed down the front of your dress and beamed as his eyes traveled down your body.

When they snapped back up to catch your gaze, the grin on his face had turned into a much more intense expression.

"You look gorgeous, honey", he muttered, tugging you further into his side, letting his eyes drop down to your chest again. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from jumping at him right this second. He should not have been allowed to just look at you if you couldn't have him touch you too. "Did you pick out new nail polish just for this dress?"

Your grin broadened. Of course he'd notice. Bradley Bradshaw was the only man in the whole universe who would notice. And he was yours.

"Yes, I did", you smiled, looking up at him as he walked with you back to the car. He hummed softly.

"It works great together", he said. Your breath hitched. He was gorgeous and he was here and he had noticed your nail polish. He was perfect. And you wanted him to fuck your brains out. "Reminds me of your burgundy silk dress."

You had to bite down on your lip again - god, you hadn't done that nearly as often when he'd been away! - to keep yourself grounded and to keep your grin in check before it could truly split your face in half.

Your burgundy silk dress was the one you'd worn to Penny and Mav's wedding two years ago that you had spent three weeks hunting down matching lipstick and matching nail polish for. Bradley had worn that lipstick on the base of his cock for most of the night.

"You're incredible, do you know that?", you asked, your voice a bit breathy. Bradley stopped in front of the Bronco, turned to you and pulled you close again. You brought your hands up to his chest.

"I've been told", he muttered, tilted his head down to look at you and then leaned down even further to brush a kiss to your nose. "Open up the Bronco so I can put my bag in the trunk?"

You let your eyes flutter close for just a tiny little moment (he was close, so close and you would literally die if he didn't start touching you any time soon) and breathed in as Bradley chuckled. You'd put the key in your pocket and were scrambling to get it out now, taking one, two seconds too long before you heard the familiar click of the car unlocking.

"Thanks, pretty girl", Bradley mumbled, letting go of you to pull open the trunk and you had to push down a sigh of disappointment, even as anticipation rose up in your stomach. You hadn't heard him call you pretty girl in months.

When he turned back around to you, you were still frozen in spot, still smiling dumbly at him, still waiting for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. He smiled back and you knew that he knew just what you were thinking. But you couldn't even begin to care. You wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.

"You need to stop looking at me like that, honey", he said, his voice an octave deeper and you just so managed not to let another dumb, pathetic moan slip. He closed the trunk and took a step back to you. "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that."

At that, you did let the moan tumble from your lips after all.

He'd been away for four months. And he was looking at you with his eyes all dark and his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling heavily. How on earth were you supposed to be normal about this? You were falling apart already and he hadn't even got you home. Four months had been a long, long time.

His hands were on your waist then, forcing you against the side of the bronco, the door handle digging into your back, the metal warmed up by the sun and your arms crossing behind his neck as his body crowded yours, one leg between yours and no more space to touch, to feel, to see anything that wasn't him - he turned his head to check if the other car had driven away and then his lips were on yours, his knee pressing against your centre.

"Bradley", you moaned into his mouth, before his tongue brushed yours and rendered you speechless. You rocked against his knee, bare skin against your thighs and you wanted to sob, you really actually wanted to sob, because this was the most contact you'd gotten in four fucking months.

Bradley pulled back an inch.

"You're soaked", he groaned against your lips, his breath on your skin, his hands on your waist and you thrust your head back against the car, against the window, squeezed your eyes shut, kept on rocking against his knee.

"I know", you whined. "Been soaked for months."

Bradley let out another groan and pulled back, pulled away from you and you whimpered, blinking your eyes open again because you'd been so close to finally getting what you wanted and now he was taking that right away from you again. You looked up at him and the only reason you didn't straight up voice your disappointment was that he looked just as debauched as you felt - running his hands through his hair, running them over his face, his curls all messed up and a considerable bulge already visible in his jeans.

"Get in the car", he rasped, taking another step back from you as though he had to physically put distance between the two of you so he wouldn't give in and take you right in this parking lot. Not that you would've minded. That other car was long gone. But that he had to restrain himself so much, that he looked so positively exhausted, that his voice was so hard and so rough and so raw, that he had already, so easily begun giving you orders drove you crazy. Orders that you knew you had to follow because this was him, this was Bradley, and if he wanted something from you.... he'd get it. You'd give it to him no matter what. You'd give him everything.

So you pushed yourself off the car with a hard breath and trailed around to the passenger side, keeping your eyes on the ground even as you heard Bradley shuffle and open the driver's door because you knew that if you looked at him, no matter how much you wanted to follow his commands, there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to help yourself.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The seat felt hot and your skin sticked to it immediately and you would have cared in any other situation, but not in this one. Not when Bradley put his hand to your thigh, to your bare skin, to just below the hem of your dress. You could have cried.

He was here, finally, and he was touching you, finally, but he wasn't touching you enough, not nearly enough. This would be a long ten minutes. You pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, turned your head and rested it against the head rest, smiling at the image before you - Bradley in the driver's seat of his Bronco, the steering wheel in one hand, the sun on his face, his curls longer than when you'd last seen them. Had he got more tan? Was that possible?

God, how you'd missed this man.

And he was here now, here, next to you, with one hand on your thigh and a grin playing on his lips and you couldn't help but smile. Big and broad and all-consuming because he was here again, this man that you called yours, he was right here next to you after four months. You loved him. You'd missed him so incredibly much.

His hand moved a little higher up on your thigh, his thumbs brushing, stroking over exposed skin, raising up your dress the slightest bit. Your breath hitched.

"Bradley-", you sighed, jaw clenching as you melted, melted at every little touch because you didn't have to only remember it anymore. You could just push up into him, watch him, breathe in his familiar scent, run your fingers along his arm. This was no more imagining, no more picturing, this was real, this was happening.

"God, I missed you saying my name like that", he groaned, tightening his grip on your thigh and you bit down on your lip, wrapped your fingers around his biceps, his wrist, forced yourself to keep your eyes open so you could keep watching him. You wouldn't miss out on a single second of watching him.

"Bradley", you repeated softly. "I'll say your name as often as you want me to."

His fingers dug even harder into your thigh as he let out some strangled sounding moan.

"You're gonna be the death of me", he muttered - how often you'd thought the same about him! "I'm lucky if I can hold out these ten minutes."

You watched him quietly for a second. You could sense the heat radiating off of him, could see his clenched jaw, could feel his deathgrip on your thigh, could hardly ignore the blazing arousal in your own veins. But if he'd wanted to fuck you in the back of his Bronco, he would've. (As picky as he was about who drove his car, he'd never had a single problem railing you into oblivion in the backseat.) There was a reason he was holding out. You could only guess that he wanted to do this properly - with time and room and no risk of getting caught by the authorities. Should you have minded? Should you have begged him to take you as quickly as possible? You were sure he would have, if you'd pleaded prettily enough. But you were quite alright with time and room and no risk of getting caught. At least for right now. The both of you would manage a ten minute ride, right? You had managed four months. Ten minutes were nothing in comparison.

"Okay", you said, trailed your fingers down to his and intertwined your hands. "I'll help. I'll tell you something. Distract you."

"You can try, honey", he chuckled, sneaked a quick sideways glance at you. "Tell me about the house."

You lit up at that. You had been dying to tell him about the house. So you pushed your arousal deep, deep down (which was easier said than done) and smiled up at him.

"I don't even know where to start", you said honestly, giving yourself a second to think about it. You had ten minutes, after all. And you had to fill them all if you wanted both of you to survive this drive.

So you told him about everything.

The short version, of course.

He'd heard some of it over the phone already, but he hadn't been able to call often and you'd spent most of your time crying and telling him how much you loved and missed him when he had answered, so...

The ten minutes went by more easily this way. You went on and on and on and on about the house, his fingers between yours, your eyes locked on his, with the occasional comment about how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to help. It had been unfortunate, of course, but at the same time it had given you something to put all your time and effort into, which had greatly helped you through his deployment. Plus, there had always been help when you had needed it - Penny and Amelia and Mav, Phoenix and Bob and Jake. The rest of the squad had been scattered, called off to their own missions, but those six you had been able to count on whenever.

Bradley's hand on your thigh was still highly distracting. He moved it up and down a few times, and each time your breath hitched, each time you stumbled over your own words, each time he grinned again.

At one point, his fingertips brushed so close to your underwear that you pushed his hand forcefully back down to your knee. He had been the one so worried he wouldn't manage a ten minute ride and now he was the one teasing you.

Not that you really minded.

But you truly felt like going insane.

Then, finally! you caught sight of your driveway. Bradley was out of the car the second he'd parked it, pulling his hand from your thigh and the key out of the ignition and you had barely unbuckled yourself when he was already opening your door, taking your hand and tugging you out, sending you stumbling into him, into his arms.

He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed the door close, pushed you up against it again, pushed the hem of your dress up to grasp at your bare thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forced him even closer.

"Bradley", you gasped softly. You hadn't moaned his name like that in four months, you'd do it so often today he would get tired of it. Even though you knew that he wouldn't, of course - he would never get tired of you whispering his name into his mouth, into the nothingness of an empty room, into his ear, into the pillows.

He didn't pull back from you, even as he took a slow, careful step away - making sure you'd catch on, making sure you'd follow, making sure to keep you safely, steadily against him. Not that you'd have done anything else. You trusted him with your life, you would trust him to keep you upright. So you did just what he wanted, followed, stumbled with him, eyes closed, lips on his, fingers brushing along his shoulders.

He did pull back then - just an inch or two, to turn you around, to look over your shoulder once, to tear his hand from your thigh and wrap his arms around you instead. And then his lips were back on yours again and his tongue running along yours. He pushed and you followed his wordless command, your legs working quicker than your mind, stumbling, tripping backwards, backwards, backwards and you barely cared, barely even acknowledged the ground beneath your feet because you were wrapped up in his arms, because you were tugging at his curls, because he was here, kissing you, finally.

You weren't needy.

You were desperate. You were depraved, frantic, starved. He was the air you needed to breathe and you hadn't taken a single breath in the past four months.

So you weren't pretending in the way you pulled him close, closer, closer, or in the frenzied way you kissed him, or in the desperate way you sighed, groaned, moaned against him, into him. You needed him. You needed more of him. All of him. You needed to get inside so you could have him.

You bumped into the door then, just short of digging the doorknob into your spine - Bradley pushed you right up against it and you gasped into his mouth, into the kiss. He crowded you against the door much like he'd crowded you against the Bronco, pulling his arms from around you to grasp your waist instead, to press your hips up to the door as well, and used one hand to fumble for the keyhole. He did so blindly, with his eyes still closed, his lips still on yours, with one of your legs coming up to wrap around his hips, your heels digging into his shorts.

Needless to say, he needed quite some time to turn the key.

You didn't mind. Not in the slightest.

You were making out with Bradley Bradshaw right on the doorstep of the house you shared with him, in the bright afternoon sunlight and truly, you couldn't have minded less. You didn't give two fucks about any of your neighbours or any passerbys spotting you - should they, by god! Bradley had come home from deployment after four months, you would make out with him on your doorstep for as long as you wanted to. You wouldn't ever stop making out with him ever again.

Not when he was here again, in your arms, with your fingers tugging at his hair, brushing along his neck, stroking along the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his shoulders. Not with your leg around his hips. Not with your lips on his. Not with anticipation, with arousal in every fibre of your body, of your soul. You were going mad with it. You were getting drunk on it.

You were euphoric when Bradley finally opened the gods damned front door.

He kept you safe and steady even as the support at your back broke away, as you almost crashed onto the floor of your own hallway. He walked you back into the pleasant cold and for once, for the first and probably the only time, you were the one to break away. You gave yourself a second to catch your breath. Then you pushed off of him completely. You took a step away, pulled the key from the door, pushed it close and when you turned back around, Bradley had set his sunglasses down on the little table you had put next to the coat rack a few weeks ago.

And you looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months.

He motioned at the table.

"Looks great, honey", he said, his voice a little too rough to sound quite normal. "Nice touch."

You shook your head softly.

"I couldn't care less about the table right now", you muttered, and with that, you were on him again. Actually, truly, fully on him again. You pushed yourself right up onto him, into him, pried his shirt off his shoulders, off his arms, let it drop down to the ground and then reached for his jaw to drag him further down, to deepen the kiss even if you knew that was impossible. So you bit down on his lip and allowed him to finally push your dress up over your hips, over your chest, over your head - you had to let go of him for a moment then, had to pull away from him so he could drop your dress on the floor and before you could even come close to reaching out for him again, he was taking a step back.

You could feel his eyes raking down your body. You could feel him taking in the white lingerie on your skin - the strings of the thong high up on your hips, intricate lace around your waist, the small bow right in the centre of it, the bra cups almost transparent, the floral white pattern covering up your nipples, the other few, small bows sown onto the straps.

You sucked in a breath at the look on his face. You hadn't seen that look in far too long.

"God, honey", Bradley groaned, reached for your waist, brushed his thumbs along the lace, ran his fingertips along the lingerie. You bit down on your lip as he pulled you, slowly, carefully, into him - gave you enough time to rest your hands on his chest, your palms against his tank top. "You look sinful. Did you buy that just for me?"

You nodded, swallowed.

"Just for you", you admitted. "Wanted to surprise you."

Bradley tugged you another inch closer, so close that your chest bumped into his, your breasts pressing against him. He let out a hum, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage.

"You did that, pretty girl", he muttered, his fingers digging into your sides. "You're incredible."

Then his lips were on yours again and you were melting, becoming putty in his hands, turning to goo in his arms. Your breaths met, lips parted. You couldn't quite believe you were finally touching him again.

He walked you back to the bedroom, narrowly avoiding the doorway, his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your bum. You reached for the hem of his shirt, forced him to stop right on the threshold so you could get rid of it - get rid of that one layer of fabric still in the way. You drew back for a second to pull it over his head, to drop it to the floor, to let your eyes travel all over his bare torso.

God, how you'd missed this man and his broad shoulders and his washboard abs. How you'd missed his touch and the sound of his voice.

"Bradley", you gasped softly, your fingertips trailing over his naked skin, down to his shorts. "I need you."

He let out a groan.

"I've waited four months for you to say that again", he muttered. You could hardly take another breath before he was on you again - lips on yours and hands on your hips and your back hit the bed a moment later, the cushy mattress, the fluffy pillows softening your fall.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him as he stood in front of your bed, the sunlight dripping down him like drops of water hitting the floorboards, his torso bare, his curls messed up, looking down at you with a heaving chest, his fingers on his belt, unhooking it, opening the button on his jeans, pulling down his zipper - you swallowed hard as you watched him drop his shorts on the floor, step out of his shoes.

A whine rolled off your tongue.

"Bradley, hurry up", you whimpered, your fingers cramping in the sheets, your legs pressing together all of their own accord, trying to get some kind of friction as he undressed himself in slow motion while you just lay there, your panties long soaked through and your fingers itching to trail down your own body.

Bradley chuckled.

"Don't worry, honey", he muttered, kneeling down on the ground to drop kisses to your calves before pulling off your sandals. "I'll make sure you forget about the past four months, alright?"

Your breath hitched as your heels hit the ground.

"Please", you begged softly. "I've missed you so much."

He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulled you to the edge of the bed - his breath ghosting over your underwear, over that tiny white piece of lingerie you had bought for him, for him to take you apart in. His fingers dug into your skin, spread out wide, to touch as much of you as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss right to that wet spot on your thong.

You let out a moan. God, how had you survived four months without him? You were barely surviving fifteen minutes of not having him fuck you.

Bradley grinned, raised his head to meet your eyes and seriously, you were close. Too close. He hadn't touched you yet, not really. You'd die today, you were sure, die and go to heaven.

"You look almost too good to undress, honey", he muttered, brushing his thumbs below that lace around your waist, not making a move to pull it down your legs.

"Bradley, please", you whined, your hands brushing over your own chest, running over your bra cups, tracing the flowers, desperately holding back from just ripping everything off yourself, pushing him onto his knees and riding him into oblivion. "Don't tease. I need you."

He groaned into the skin of your thigh.

"Anything you want, honey", he muttered - and then your thong was gone and he was burying his tongue inside you, dipping, tracing, licking, circling your clit, breathing you in, devouring you. Taking and giving everything. It had been four months since he'd had you like this and he wanted everything, every inch of you he could get. He wanted to taste you, every last drop of you, wanted to eat you out until you couldn't think anymore, until you had truly, fully forgotten all the time he had been away, all the time you had been forced to be on your own, alone.

You thrashed, moaned above him - your fingers clenching around your bra, brushing over your nipples. You were close. Close after the entirety of three seconds, close to tears, close to coming.

"Bradley", you choked out, tearing your hands off yourself, burying them in his hair instead - tugging him off, tugging him away from you. You took a deep breath as he let go of you, as he loosened his grip on you, looked up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"I need you to fuck me", you whimpered, already too sensitive, too tense. "I need you inside me."

You hadn't had him in four months.

Four months had been enough goddamn foreplay. As much as you loved when he ate you out, you needed him, you needed his cock, you needed to feel him inside you, you needed him to take you apart and make up for all the time lost.

Bradley nodded, nodded because he knew, he understood - he saw the frantic look in your eyes, had felt the desperate drag of your hands at his clothes, his arms, his shoulders, his hair. He'd give anything to you. Everything. He would do whatever you wanted of him.

Maybe in another situation he'd have made you beg more, would have teased you more, would have edged you a few times. Maybe in another situation. But not in this one. Not after four months of being away from you, not when you were so beautifully, so desperately spread out beneath him, looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, your lip pulled between your teeth, your gorgeous white lingerie still concealing too much of your skin.

As he'd said, you were almost too gorgeous to undress. But just almost.

So he rose up from the ground, pulled you up with him, pulled you in, his fingers brushing along your sides, your spine, your bra clasp. He let it fall open. You worked fast, worked your bra down your arms and off your hands and drew back from him to fling it against the wall and lay down on the bed, lay down all pretty and waiting.

You needed him to fuck you. Now.

He let out a groan, closed his eyes. The look on his face had you pressing your legs together again. Wetness was coating the inside of your thighs now. It glistened on his moustache. And you were sure you could have tasted it on his tongue too.

He was making you go insane.

"How do you want me, pretty girl?", he asked, pressing his knees into the side of the mattress. "Tell me how and I'll do whatever you want."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your nerves were bubbling up. Four months. You'd waited four months for this one question.

"Behind", you whined. "Need you from behind."

Bradley had known, of course, because that was what you always said when he stood at the front of your bed and asked you this question. His hands were on your waist, grasping, grabbing, turning you over before you had fully finished speaking, your cheek pressed against the pillows, your breath coming short and shorter, adrenaline pumping through every single one of your veins. You felt hot and sticky and needy and nervous.

Nervous because Bradley stilled.

Nervous because he sucked in a sharp breath.

Nervous, even though you had been here a million times before, in his bed and in yours, bent over desks and bars and couches, with the heat of him behind you, arousal flowing through your body like oxygen, anticipation clouding your mind.

"Shit, honey", Bradley breathed.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.

How you'd have loved to see his expression. But you had known you wouldn't. You had prepared yourself to be satisfied with the sound of his voice, with the feel of him so close to you.

"Shit", Bradley repeated. He took another deep breath in. "You got a tattoo?"

A tattoo.

Your tattoo.

You nodded into the pillow, scraped your cheek against the fabric, so eager, so quick to agree. Four months you had waited for this. Four months since you had begun planning this - the very day after he'd left, in a conversation with none other than Phoenix. Four long, lonely months.

Bradley ran his thumb along the soft expanse of your skin. Along that strip of skin right above your hips, just where they met your back - right above your ass, right where he could see so very perfectly.

He was gentle. Almost not touching you at all. As though he was afraid he could somehow, even after all this time, hurt you, as though he was afraid he could wipe it away.

"It's healed", you whined, breathlessly, trying your hardest not to squirm, not to push back further into him even though you felt like you were going insane. You'd known he'd take his sweet time staring at that inked expanse of skin. But you hadn't known you would be so goddamn desperate for him to fuck you into delirium while he did so. "It's fully healed."

Bradley was quiet, silent behind you. His thumb stilled, stayed still. You sunk your teeth into your lip.

You would truly go mad here. For more than one reason now.

Bradley was always loud. Always moving, always doing something. He was forward and honest and loud and it was a miracle, really, when he wasn't. When he was calm and quiet and still. It didn't always mean something good.

It surely didn't always mean something bad, either.

But it didn't always mean something good.

And you hadn't been nervous. You hadn't been nervous about showing him, because you knew he loved you and he'd love this - this show of him, this show for him. Just for him. But you had still been fidgety. You had still been excited, flustered.... nervous, after all. In a good way. Now, good was turning to less good because he was quiet, for once, quiet and you didn't know what to do, what to say. You had expected him to go feral, had expected him to fuck you raw, to go absolutely ballistic. You had imagined, pictured, visualised it, four months long. Every night that you hadn't been remembering him, you had been imagining this - this moment right here, where he read the words inked forever into your skin, and every time, again and again, your fingers hadn't been enough, your vibrator hadn't been enough, nothing had been enough. Not in comparison to him, to his fingers and his tongue and his cock.

And every time, again and again, when nothing had been enough to replace him, you thought to yourself just how right it had been to have lain on that leather table bed in that tattoo parlour four months ago. Just how right it was to have him marked on your skin like that. Forever.

Great Balls Of Fire.

"Bradley, please", you whimpered, your fingers closing around whatever piece of fabric you could manage to grab at - the covers, the sheets, the pillows. "Say something. Please"

Bradley let out a long breath.

"Great Balls Of Fire?", he asked quietly, his fingers brushing over your skin again. Some kind of reassurance, at least.

"Thought you'd like it", you mumbled into the pillow, stumbling, tripping over your words a bit, still breathless around the edges. You couldn't be expected to talk now. Not when he was so close to giving you what you needed.

"Like it?" His hands wrapped around your waist, his left thumb still stroking over those unfamiliar familiar letters on your skin - Great Balls Of Fire, in his handwriting, taken from one of his sheets of music, from his piano. His song. His father's song.

Your song.

Your song.

Your song.

"Honey", Bradley rasped, pulling you an inch back to him and you let a whine fall from your lips. You were soaked, you were dripping, you were desperate and still so very unsatisfied. "Do I like it? I love it. I love you. God, you got a tattoo. You're incredible. You're-"

He stumbled over his own words, trailed off, left his sentence hanging unfinished in mid air. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss right on top of your tattoo. Right on top of those letters, on top of that song, on top of your song. On top of the very reason you had met, six years ago in a stuffed navy bar.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me", he muttered, dropping another kiss onto your skin.

You whimpered again.

"You've been so good to me, honey, haven't you?", he went on, as though he wasn't hearing those little whines, those little moans rolling off your tongue. He was. You knew that. "You waited so prettily for me to come back, didn't you? You were so eager for me to be home again, so eager for me to be with you again that you even got a tattoo?"

You nodded along, nodded and nodded and kept on nodding because yes, yes and yes - yes to everything, yes to him.

"You got a tattoo just for me, honey. You can't even see it. Probably had to twist and turn in the mirror every day to take care of it, didn't you? And all just for me."

You nodded again - never really stopped nodding, not with his fingers brushing along your back, over your skin, with his voice so deep and rough and real.

"Just for you", you whined.

Bradley chuckled.

"Just for me", he repeated, his voice deeper than before - if that was even possible - his fingers stroking along your sides, roaming over your back, your spine. "Such a good girl."

A shiver went through your entire body at that - through your legs, your arms, your shoulders, through every single one of your fingers and toes. He knew just what he did to you when he said that.

He knew.

"Bradley", you moaned, unashamed now, the nerves in your veins long subsided, replaced once more by that all-consuming heat that you could never get enough of.

"Yeah, honey?", he asked. You could hear the grin on his lips. "What do you want?"

You let out a sort of sob that sounded pathetic even to your own ears. It wasn't that you minded begging. Because you didn't. You really didn't. But you had already done so, had already begged him miserably, had told him so prettily how you wanted him to fuck you. And he was starting all over again.

"Just once more, honey", Bradley whispered, dropping kisses to your spine, climbing higher and higher. "Tell me once more and you'll get whatever you want."

"Fuck me", you cried out, burying your face in the pillow, not letting even half a second pass by. Bradley always made good on his promises. And you needed him more than anything right now. "Please fuck me."

He was on you within a heartbeat.

One hand around your waist, pulling you into him, as the other one guided himself into you. He pushed into you in one smooth movement, pushed his hips right to yours, stretched you out like he hadn't in four goddamn months.

You were clenching around him, moaning his name, tears brimming in your eyes at the feeling of him again, finally. He was grunting, groaning behind you, his hands clasping around your waist as he settled deep inside you and let out a breath.

You hadn't felt so stretched out in so long. You hadn't felt him in so long. You needed more. You needed to feel more of him.

"Bradley", you whimpered. "Move."

His fingers dug even firmer into your sides. You bit down on your lip. He felt so good, so heavenly with his hands on your skin and his cock deep inside you, but you needed him to move, you needed him to move now, you needed him to fuck you and make you fall apart for him.

"Need a second, honey", he grunted, running his thumbs along your skin - along your new tattoo, just for this, just for him. "God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much."

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to keep still for him, even as your thighs burned with the need to move, the need for more, the need to finally come undone around him. You knew you were close already. You could feel it, had been feeling it, dancing around the edges of your perception, melting in your blood, scorching in your stomach.

"Missed you too, Bradley", you moaned into the pillow, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, honey, you are", he groaned. "So good. Perfect."

And then he was moving, finally, and you let out a sobbed kind of prayer, your eyes falling shut, your fingers digging into the sheets as he thrust in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm - enjoying the feeling of you around him, letting you enjoy the feeling of him inside you.

Just that you couldn't enjoy this.

You couldn't enjoy this because you were wound so tightly, wound so goddamn tightly that tears were pricking in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks and drop onto the covers. You needed him to make you fall apart, to make you come, you needed more. Just a little more.

You were teetering on the edge and he had you spiralling with how slowly he was fucking you. You needed him to send you over that edge, not build it higher and higher and higher up.

"Bradley", you whined, stumbling clumsily over his name as he ran a hand up your back. "More."

"Dunno if I can-" He broke off, his breath hitching, his fingers resting on your neck, brushing through your hair. "Fuck, honey, dunno if I can do more without coming."

You bit down on your lip at that, let out a moan so absolutely filthy that you were sure you would have been embarrassed of it if you'd had any more capacity to think - to think of anything other than him, anything other than how this god, who could fuck you for hours on end without tiring once, with so much stamina he could have you sobbing, coming for him four, five times on his cock alone, how this god was so desperate for you after four months that he was worried he'd come if he went any faster.

You were almost pushed over the edge just by that alone.

"I don't care", you cried, because you really didn't. "I don't need long, I need you. I'm so close."

Bradley grunted, his fingers brushing even higher up on your scalp.

"You're gonna be the death of me, honey", he muttered, just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up onto your knees - into him, into his arms, your back flush to his chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder with a moan, let your eyes fall shut again.

He thrust up into you with vigor then, with more urgency, with less fear of coming undone, less fear of cutting this short. His hands smoothed over your sides, over your chest, holding you up against him, brushing along your breasts, along your stomach.

And all you could think was yes, this, this was it. This was what you had been imagining, what you had been picturing in a cold, lonesome bed every night, what you had been so desperate for.

His fingers trailed down your thigh, trailed up again, caught on your clit, drew a circle against that little bundle of nerves and you fell forward, doubled over, only held up by him, by his arms around you as you came undone, as you clenched around him.

Four months.

Four months and a tattoo.

And he hadn't even had you there for two minutes, had barely touched you, and now you were falling apart for him, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, legs burning, fingers cramping. You'd waited four months for this.

You could feel him spilling inside you, noticed it somewhere dancing around the edges of your perception as you gasped for breath, tears stinging your cheeks and your nails digging into your own thighs.

This.

Him.

Bradley's finger had stilled on your clit. You blinked your eyes open, refocused on your green wallpaper, on the pictures, the old vintage polaroids of you and him right above the bed until you could see them all clearly again, until you could see them and realise what they were, until you could manage to tilt your head back and rest it, once more, against Bradley's shoulder. Until you had come back to reality again.

"I missed you so much, honey", he muttered into your ear, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss onto your exposed neck. "Missed this so much."

"Missed you so much too", you mumbled, reached for his hands. He pulled his finger from your clit, let you intertwine your hands with his, rested them carefully on your stomach. "Love you, Bradley."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips warm, oh so warm on your skin, soft and warm and you needed him to kiss you now, to press his lips to yours.

"I love you too, honey", he whispered, halfway to brushing another kiss onto your skin when you turned your head, met his lips with your own, cut him off by surprise.

This was a weird angle, you had to strain your neck to even slot your lips together somewhat well and you were sloppy with it, too, your chest still heaving and your mind returning to clarity just now, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not when he'd just made you come, when he was holding you in his arms, when he was finally here, right behind you again, as though the last four months hadn't happened at all.

When you pulled back, you were feeling more normal again - as normal as you possibly could feel, with him behind you, with him inside you still.

"You got a tattoo", Bradley breathed, a grin dancing around the corners of his lips. You chuckled.

"Just for you", you nodded, brushing your fingertips up his arms, up to his elbows.

Bradley kissed you again, all parted lips and breathing into each other. You felt almost melancholic when he drew back. But he was smiling - and when he smiled, you had to smile too.

"I'm never letting you go again", he said, loosened his grip on you to trail his hands slowly, softly down your body, giving you enough time to steady yourself without him holding you up anymore. "And I'm not letting you leave this bed until the sun comes up, alright, pretty girl?"

You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning, anticipation already bubbling in your veins again. You knew he could make good on that promise. And that he probably would.

"Yes, please, Bradley", you muttered, already bending down again, splaying out your hands to catch yourself on the mattress as you showed him your tattoo again, just for him to see, just for him to touch. Just for him. "Whatever you want. As long as you want. I love you."

[wileys-russo]

ausenal ‘can you just not sit still?’ travelling to London

steph catley, caitlin foord, kyra cooney-cross

"one two three four, i declare a thumb war!" you chanted, hand locked with kyras as the two of you grunted and struggled. "oh my god." steph mumbled, massaging her temples as the four of you sat in dubai airport for your layover.

"how the fuck are the two of you not tired? you did not shut up or sleep that entire flight!" caitlin groaned from beside her, head resting on her fist as you and kyra ignored them.

"winner!" you screamed happily, jumping on top of the brunette. "ow! steph." you scowled as the defender harshly smacked the back of your calf. "its four thirty in the morning here and people are clearly trying to rest. shut up!" the girl warned sternly nodding to a few other passengers curled up in chairs not far from you.

"that doesn't count we're on aussie time!" kyra slung her arm around you with a scoff. "yeah! and on aussie times its...eleven thirty seven in the morning." you checked your phone and grinned, steph only letting out a deep sigh.

"how much longer till we board?" she mumbled to caitlin. "four and a half hours." the striker answered with a sigh of her own. "we could always drug them, i'm sure theres a pharmacy somewhere in here." steph muttered, both girls seeming to contemplate the idea for a moment before abandoning it with a shake of their heads.

"oh i have cards! lets play." you remembered, swinging your backpack off and rummaging through before you found them, kyra sitting cross legged on the floor beside you.

"come on!" you pinched stephs ankle as she jolted awake and shot you a glare. "works best with four people." you shook the packet at her as kyra had successfully harassed caitlin into playing.

"one game, thats it."

though with all four of your competitive tendencies kicking in, one game quickly became five, and then ten. steph tapping out as they announced your connecting flight was delayed a further three and a half hours due to an engine issue.

"oh you've gotta be fucking kidding." caitlin groaned, you and kyra quite unbothered as you packed away the cards. "ky and i are gonna go find food." you dropped your backpack on top of steph who grunted and pushed it off with an annoyed huff, the two of you racing off before she could say another word.

"do you reckon they accept aussie dollars?" kyra realised as the two of you stood in front of a vending machine, all of the food kiosks closed for another hour due to the time. "no but they should accept this." you grinned plucking your debit card out of your pocket.

"what! i thought steph took yours? caitlins got mine." kyra groaned, the two of you having had your 'pocket money' privileges revoked after you'd decided to buy out basically the entire vending machine at camp, most of which was shared with harper and harley and caused a sugar high chaos.

"sticky fingers ky, sticky fingers." you smirked, having swiped it out of stephs wallet when she was distracted. "oh like in home alone! the sticky bandits." kyra beamed, having admitted to never having seen the movie you'd forced her to watch a whole stack of christmas films over camp.

"see! and you thought you didn't need a christmas movie education."

"jesus christ we're here for a few more hours not a few days!" caitlin shook her head as you and kyra returned, arms laden with all sorts of treats both sweet and savory. "you are not eating anything that has sugar in it before the flight, over my dead body." steph warned sternly, making quick work to try and snatch everything she deemed a danger.

little did they know you and kyra had assumed this would be the case, the majority of the sweet treats hidden away in pockets, kyras bum bag or on your persons.

"do we stop them?" caitlin sighed, wedged into the chair beside steph as you and kyra took off again to explore. "no, if they run off their energy now maybe they'll actually sleep this next flight." steph pointed out, hopeful but realistic that likely wouldn't happen.

so they left the two of you to it, grateful you'd finally left them be much as they worried what the two of you were up to, the last thing they needed was to have to bail you out of trouble with security in another country let alone in dubai.

"where the hell are they? the flight boards in five minutes!" steph stressed, trying both of your phones again which rang out. those five minutes passed, then another ten, and with seconds to spare before they considered just leaving the two of you behind suddenly you and kyra skidded around the corner into view.

"sorry! we got lost and then kyra-" you started to explain but with a murderous look from both your older team mates you fell silent, accepting your bag which was shoved into your chest and silently filing onto the plane after them.

"no! you two are being separated." steph warned as you tried to sit beside kyra, frowning and moving the seat behind so you were next to steph instead.

getting through takeoff both you and kyra were quiet, steph and caitlin both praying that meant you had indeed tired yourselves out. but as the seatbelt sign went off and steph had just started to doze off she heard you moving about, tossing and turning and huffing.

"can you just not sit still?" the defender groaned tiredly, head turning to shoot you a look as you sent her a sheepish smile. "i'm not tired!" you shrugged honestly. "watch a movie or something then, just be quiet. please!" the older girl sighed deeply as you nodded.

it seemed to have worked as steph began to doze off, but the very obvious opening of a packet of something caused her to shoot back up, catching you in the act of shoving a chocolate bar in your mouth.

"give it." steph warned, holding her hand out as you sighed and handed it over. "all of them." the girl shot you a firm look as you deflated and grabbed out the bag, watching with a broken heart as steph hid them away in her own luggage.

"you know steffy you are the worst travel buddy ever." "funny, could say the exact same about you kid. now be quiet, please!"

[chimychoo]

HUGE TPOT 12 SPOILERS!

BUCKLE UP CHAT. CAUSE THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG THEORY!!!!!

Where do i begin?

So heres the thing, I watched TPOT 12 then took a shower right after. While taking said shower i took a moment to think about everything that went down. And thought of the wildest theory ever..

• XFHOV

LETS START FROM THE BEGINNING,

One and Three, right?

These two fellas have FINALLY appeared after 15 years! Why is that?

Here is the scene when X found out their value: 7!

Four, Seven, and X are celebrating and generally very happy. Who isnt happy?

Three and one.

Theyre clearly angered by this whole situation, but why? Who are they angry at?

Theres three possible options:

1. Seven. But that wouldnt make sense, huh? Basically every algebralien has SOME sort of grudge held against him, so its nothing new. Scratch that!

2. Four. Its possible, four has done alot of things. But thats not who im personally going to focus on. Well, partially at least.

That leaves one more person!

3. X. But why them?

"Theyre just a little silly dude, they did nothing wrong!" And youre right. Thats exactly why theyre a target.

• THREE AND ONE'S CAPYIVITY

Youre probably wondering, why am i focusing on X, and not four? Four is more of a suspect, after all.

Think about it this way,

Three is trapped in a prison inside of Four's school, so four put him there! (They are the only one with control over that place anyway.)

One is trapped inside of the moon. There isnt really any solid proof to prove my theory with this one, but she came out during TPOT. She clearly had the ability to escape and didnt seem tired out and/or surprised that she finally left her prison. One actually seems happy and collected, even going as far as "greeting everyone" once she's out. She chose to come out at this time, just like how she chose to mess with Two's show.

One also confirmed that shes an "old friend of Two's." If One is suddenly against Two after all the years of them knowing each other, Two clearly did something to her.

• MUTUAL CONNECTIONS

And youre STILL probably wondering, "Chim! You still didnt explain what X has to do with all of this!"

Four and Two hate eachother, this hatred being caused by Two when they stole more than HALF of the bfb cast.

(They seem to not be familiar with eachother when they "first" meet. Im not exactly sure why here HELP.)

But anyway!

Who does Four have a good friendship with? X!

Who does Two have a good friendship with? Also X!

X is what keeps them sane around eachother, the only main reason why they stick around.

If anything bad were to happen to X, Four and Two clearly have the power and ability to get back at whatever or WHOever caused this harm.

One and Three did something to X, and it resulted in Two and Four snapping.

• THREE'S PERSONALITY

Three has basically ZERO information on himself, we know nothing about the guy. But what we do know, is that hes agressive.

In the Number Playground Chronicles, we get an article that explains an event that takes place, Three being apart of it. The article reads:

(To reduce confusion, ill be adding the names for you guys to differenciate whos who.)

"(Five)Integer did not pick up the ball when dropped, and Three Integer, the person playing with him, became impatient. (Five)Integer was angry at (Three)Integer because, Three Integer could simply pick up the ball and throw it to (Five)Integer, and (Three)Integer and (Five)Integer could keep playing.

"FOAMING THREE INTEGER"

The horrible, tragic incident happened at 10:13 AM. Three Integer became Upset.

Three Integer at 10:16, Angry.

Three Integer at 10:31, Furious.

Three Integer at 10:24, and "Foaming."

Three Integer at 10:39, when he started to produce smoke.

(Five)Integer picked up the ball at 6:17 PM."

This event did truly happen, we can see the beginning of it play out in the first few seconds of XFOHV:

Three was so angry and REFUSED to even touch the ball. Five had to go pick it up themself HOURS after the incident.

Three also WILLINGLY closed the cell door after it was opened. He couldve escaped, yet he didnt. I have two possible reasons for this:

1. He's afraid of Four catching him, so he followed orders and stayed put.

2. Three's gone insane after a decade and a half of being all alone, to the point that he WANTS to stay inside.

• ONE'S MOTIVES

One seems like a friendly character, shes smiling in basically the ENTIRETY of her screentime, (minus the part when she conversed with Fanny.)

But something about her smile isnt right, its almost disturbing. The way she grins in the oddest situations,

She is seen with a list during the post-credits scene, with four names on it that are all crossed out, meaning they are "completed."

□ Bell.

□ Bomby.

□ Fanny.

□ Ice Cube.

Notice how all four of these contestants were in some sort of distress during that moment, and One helped them out! In exchange for a "favor."

1. She helped Bell escape elimination by removing her string (something that annoyed Bell constantly due to contestants activley climbing it.) And hiding her.

2. She helped Bomby escape elimination by hiding him.

3. She gave Fanny a new mouth, discarding the need to spend hours at a time searching for it in the ocean.

4. She gave Ice Cube a new pair of legs, allowing her to walk again.

What exactly does One need these favors for? Revenge against Two, of course!

● ONE AND TWO'S FRIENDSHIP

Theres a popular theory stating that Two was kicked out of the equation playground, this would clear up the confusion as to why they basically NEVER appear in the subscriber specials.

Maybe this is because Two hates math! They said it to Gaty in one of the episodes.

I also believe that One was also kicked out. Why, you may ask?

Take a look at this scene in the beginning of TPOT 11:

One's picture was hidden underneath Seven's. As if nobody(COUGH COUGH. Espcially four) wanted her to be mentioned so they simply hid her.

Maybe this is how One and Two became friends, two rejects.

● RANDOM THINGS THAT GET THEIR OWN SECTION CAUSE IDK WHERE ELSE TO PUT THEM

1. How the HELL did One get a mouth and... legs?

2. Judging by One's little room, she probably really likes space and astronomy, maybe thats way the moon was where she was sent.

3. Kinda freaky to think that One was there in the moon the ENTIRE time. Throughout every single episode of the series from BFDI 1A to TPOT9, and we never knew.

Yeah tbh idk what else to say this was just a little info dump cause my mind was PACKED. anyways yeah tell me if i missed anything anf let me know about your little theories and opinions on mine! :3

[atimeofyourlife]

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up round: bakery au rated: t | wc: 840 | cw: none | tags: pre-steddie Eddie never got involved in the upside down, he and Steve meet again a few years later in a bakery in Chicago

The bakery was Steve's pride and joy. It was something that he had accomplished and built up by himself, without the input from his parents. No financial assistance from them, no help in learning how to manage a business. It had been a lot of trial and error, and incredible support from his friends, but he had succeeded. He'd brought the small unit in Chicago using most of the hush money payment over the Upside Down. It needed a lot of work doing to it before he was ready to open it, but once it was open it just took off. Constantly selling out of most of the bakes by lunchtime each day, having to take on extra staff to keep up with demand.

After nearly two years, he had a number of very loyal regulars, the ones who would come in at the same times and same days each week, always ordering the same things. The local workers that would always come in before work or on a morning break for a sweet treat everyday. The older couples that would come in twice a week, once for a dessert for their weekly date nights, and once for treats for their grandchildren. The college students that were adamant that Steve's pastries were infinitely better than the ones they could get on campus.

But the newest regular, one his staff had nicknamed 'Mr Metal,' Steve had yet to meet. From the name, Steve assumed that he worked in the new record store that had opened across the street, but the man always managed to be in and out while Steve was still working in the kitchen, setting up the next batch for the oven or decorating what had just finished cooling.

One Friday morning, he was carrying out the boxes ready to restock the counter, when he heard the voice of Zara, one of the cashiers.

"Uh, I'm not sure. Give me a minute, I'll just have to ask the boss."

"Ask me what?" Steve asked as he rounded the counter, the stack of boxes obscuring most of his vision.

"Please tell me that those boxes have lemon cream cheese pastries and apple pie cookies in them." She replied, sounding a little stressed.

"Yeah, lemon are in the top box, apple in the bottom." Steve replied as he put the boxes down on the side, and started unstacking them. He glanced up at the customer, a vaguely familiar, handsome man, and from the long hair, piercings, and the Black Sabbath t-shirt, this had to be the Mr Metal that all the staff kept mentioning. "How many of each did you want?"

"Two of each." The man replied, staring hard at Steve.

"Uh huh." Steve worked quickly to box them up. "Are you aware of our Friday five for four offer? Five bakes for the price of four, so you could get another of your choice at no extra cost."

"I get them for me and my coworkers, theres four of us so I don't think we can split a fifth four ways without fighting over who gets what."

"I can always bag it separately, so you can slip it in your pocket. They don't have to know a thing about it." Steve offered with a wink.

"You drive a hard bargain, Harrington. I'll take another apple pie cookie."

"I-" Steve looked at the man, confused. Unsure how he knew his name. "Did you go to Hawkins, then? I'm sorry, I don't think I remember you."

"You got a table round here? I could climb up and start talking about jocks and conformity." He looked Steve up and down. "Though, you don't seem to conform to the jock image any more, big boy."

It took another moment, but the name hit Steve as he was bagging the extra cookie. "Munson. Used to buy weed off you."

"I don't know if I should be honored that the king remembers me, or wounded that it took so long."

Steve rolled his eyes at the dramatics, it reminding him even more of high school. "I don't remember most people now, too many concussions."

"Shit. But now you're boss of a bakery. How life changes."

"Yeah. It only took three serious concussions, two major disasters in Hawkins, and one disownment after getting caught behind The Hideout with Matty P. But then I realized that this is what I want to be doing."

"What were you doing behind The Hideout with Matty P? Smoking weed or something? I know you never hid about that."

"We had been smoking, but at that point my mouth was, uh, otherwise occupied." Steve admitted.

"Oh, shit." Eddie choked back a laugh, then looked at his watch. "I'd love to hear more about that, but I've got to get back to work."

Steve quickly wrote his number on the bag with the extra cookie, before handing it over. "Call me sometime, maybe we could spend some time together outside of work."

"You're on, Harrington." Eddie winked at Steve, before leaving the bakery.

im not the happiest with the end of this bc it was rushed after my brain turned to mush from migraines

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You and König attend a holiday party.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, vague racism, heat (omega verse)

Word count: 3.1k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.

A/n: Omg....Hi guys......it's me.....hey.......I am alive. This chapter is defiantly geared more towards my poc readers. Theres some angst that i'll revisit in a later chapter. Some comments are made. You'll see. Anyways, I can't promise I will be posting super consistently but I will definatly try to post more then I have been.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Five:

Your editor droned on about deadlines and writing engines as you ate some soup König got you earlier. You can hear the desperation through the computer screen. You'd be lying if you said you were listening. They'll get the pages when they get them, with you, no money. König sat on the couch waiting for your meeting to be done. 

“I'll get the next chapter done, Frankie.” You said.

“You promise?” He was almost teary-eyed.

“Yes, I promise.” 

You hung up and closed your laptop while sighing. You got up and walked over to your giant Alpha. You outstretched his arm, inviting you to cuddle. You obliged plopping yourself on his lap and resting your head on his chest. The November winds were seeping into the atmosphere slowly. You didn't mind. That meant the holidays were coming. 

“The 141 is having an early holiday party. Everyone goes on leave one week into December, so we celebrate early. Would you like to go with me, Schatz?” 

“Oh yes, that sounds lovely. When is it?” You asked delightedly.

“This weekend. It's a dressy event.” 

The weekend was in four days. You haven't done your hair or dressed up in a while. You'd want a new dress for this especially with the cold, but you supposed you could make something work. As for your hair, it was time to hit up a YouTube tutorial for some ideas. König seemed to sense your internal struggle. 

“We can go shopping today, I need a button-down shirt.” 

“You don't have a button-down?” You asked a little amused. 

“Never needed one.” 

“Huh, well I also want to get my hair done. But, I've never been to a stylist here.” You started searching for braiders in the area, and to your surprise, there were some. 

The prices were comparable to ones in the US so that gave you some comfort. König looked over your shoulder browsing the different styles along with you. Some he has seen and others he hasn't. He chimed in with some styles he thought would look cute on you every so often. 

“Oh, she has an appointment available tomorrow.”

“Book it, I'll take you.” 

“I can take myself it's alright.”

“Nein. I'll take you.”

You grumbled a bit at his stubbornness but gave in. You booked the appointment and placed your deposit. 

“How much is it?” König asked.

“Um, all together with the deposit, one hundred fifty euros. I was also gonna tip but I forgot Europe doesn't do that.” 

König replied with a 'hmm' and tapped away on his phone. Your phone dinged and you checked the notification. 

'König has sent you € 150,00' 

“Kö, You don't have to pay for this.”

“Why shouldn't I? You are mine, You want it, I like it when you look beautiful, so I pay.” He said simply.

König had a habit of paying for everything. You liked it but it made you a little uncomfortable. This wasn't how you'd be treated back in the States. Whenever you mentioned it, König would always rant about how American men were cheap and lazy. He also would mention how he has more money than he needs so spending it on you is fun. König loves to see your little face light up whenever he buys you something sweet, or a piece of jewelry you were looking at. He told you to get dressed for the shopping trip and you obliged, making sure you were bundled up for the cold weather. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you opted to shop for König's clothes first. Finding clothing that fits him nicely is a challenge with how tall and muscular he is. There were some stores specifically made for big and tall men that you went into first. One store only had bright floral patterned shirts and loosely fitting dress pants. Neither you nor your Alpha liked that. The next one had some nice boots in his size. They were a fancier version of combat boots. Finally, you found a simple black button-down shirt and slim tapered dress pants for him. You made him try it on before leaving the store.

 My god...You had to keep yourself from drooling. The pants hugged his waist perfectly, and the shirt was just tight enough for you to see some muscle peeking through. König smirked at your reaction. 

“You think this will look good with my sniper hood?” he asked. 

“What?! You're gonna wear your hood and cover-up that gorgeous face? No way.”

“I don't show my face to anyone on base, Schatz.” 

“Hmm, well you look good in anything so... I guess.” You pouted.

König got dressed and paid for his clothes. Nearby there were a few boutiques with dresses. You wanted something nice, but not too fancy. You didn't want to overdress. König was patient with you as you browsed a bunch of stores. Eventually, you found something you liked. It was a midi deep purple knit dress. It had elegant sleeves and looked like it could be dressed up or down. Perfect for a cold night. König sat on the bench of the fitting room as you tried it on. You came out and twirled giving him a full view of the dress. 

“So?” You asked.

“Beautiful.” He motioned for you to come closer. When you did he placed a hand on your hip gingerly. 

“I can think of many things I could do to you in this dress.” He said quietly. 

“König!” You gave him a light slap on the arm and went back into the changing room embarrassed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you started prepping for your hair appointment. You had to wash your hair but the stylist said she could blow-dry it for you. You spent about an hour washing your hair and another detangling it. König kept you company on the couch as you combed and sectioned it out. You sighed and slumped on the couch once you were done. Your arms were a little sore but you were glad you were done. You put your bonnet on to keep your hair neat and moisturized. You made sure you had your tip ready and a book to read while you got your hair done. König stood at the door watching you pace around the apartment gathering your things. 

The drive to the salon was quick and smooth. König gave you a kiss on the cheek before you exited the car. You opened the door to the building, and the smell of hair spray wafted into your nose. A tall woman greeted you as you walked in. Her hair was braided back into neat rows and her dark cheeks had a warm glow to them. 

“Are you my twelve pm?” She asked with a smile.

“Yes, I am, nice to meet you.” 

She guided you into a salon chair and got started. Her hands were quick, skilled, and gentle as she worked her way through your head of hair. In about two hours she finished. You admired your new do in the mirror and thanked your stylist profusely. König waited at a café down the street. You spotted him sitting peacefully at one of the outdoor tables, away from most other patrons. As you got closer he glanced up to meet and look at you. His eyes widened, taking in your new look. Although he had his mask on you could tell he was smiling under it. He stood up to greet you. 

“You look beautiful, Liebe.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead careful to avoid touching your freshly done hair. You giggled bashfully and returned his kiss on his cheek. 

The next few days went by quickly. You did some extra work and scheduled an editor meeting before the weekend. When Saturday rolled around, you were anxious. You wanted to make a good impression with your Alpha's coworkers. How do you act around military personnel? Your father never brought you around any of his military friends. As you got ready you just tried to keep an open mind and stay confident in yourself. Also, you will get to see Soap again. You slipped on your dress and spritzed a light mist of perfume.

You walked out of your room while looking through your purse to make sure you had all of your essentials. König was sitting on the couch but stood when he saw you. He was dressed and ready, looking over your form affectionately. You zipped around the dining room and kitchen making sure you had everything in order. König walked over to you, stopping you in your path. He slinked his hand around your waist pulling you out of your thoughts. He pulled you into his chest gently. 

“Relax, Schatz.” He purred. You looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile. 

“I think I left my wallet in my room. Do I need it? Should I bring a gift?” You rambled. 

König pulled your wallet out from his back pocket and handed it to you. He shook his head and gave you a small smile. His sniper hood was hanging haphazardly over a dining room chair. He led you towards the door swiftly grabbing it and opening the door. You followed him out reluctantly. 

The drive to the base was uneventful aside from your occasional worrying that was quelled by your alpha quickly. You can't help but feel more on edge than you usually would, but you can't put a finger on why. König pulled up to the massive, barbed wire-lined fence. A man in full military gear and a large gun strolled up to the window. You hadn't noticed that König out his hood in a while back. He rolled the window down and quickly flashed his ID to the soldier. The man nodded and waved his hand in the air. The gate slid open almost painfully slowly. König placed a hand on your thigh as he drove slowly through the base. It helped calm you for the time being. 

There was a large building with a few dozen cars parked outside. König Parked the SUV rather haphazardly a good distance away from the entrance. When you opened the door you heard faint music coming from the building and lots of voices and laughter. Your alpha lapped the car and met you on the passenger side. You started to walk towards the door but he stopped you.

“What is the matter, Schatz?” His eyes softly gazed down at you. 

“Nothing is wrong, I'm fine.” You said quickly.

“If you are uncomfortable, we can go.” He gently caressed your cheek., his scent enveloping your senses. 

“I'm ok, I'm just a little nervous.” Deep down you knew something was off, but you were confident you could get through this night. 

“Shcatz, You forgot your collar.” König said nonchalantly.

You gasped and your hand flew up to your neck covering your exposed scent glands. 

“Oh no! Why didn't you tell me? Now I'm gonna stink up a storm in there.” You turned around embarrassed and even more on edge. 

Your Alpha said nothing, he simply opened the back door of the car and pulled out a small black bag before closing the door. He spun you around by the waist to face him waving the bag in front of you. You glanced at him unsure before taking the bag. König gave you a small nod waiting for you to open it. Inside was a large square jewelry box. When you opened it it held the most beautiful gold metal collar. The one you looked at from the boutique a while ago. 

“König....” You truly didn't know what to say. Tears pricked your eyes but you quickly wiped them away and replaced them with a smile. 

“Thank you, Alpha.” You said while wrapping your arms around his middle. 

He held you close and kissed the top of your head through his hood gently. He pulled away and took the collar out of its box. He clasped it around your neck locking it with the provided key. It fit perfectly, you could barely tell it was there. König held the small key out for you to take but you shook your head. 

“Keep it safe for me Alpha.” You said giving him a warm smile. 

Although you couldn't see his face, you could tell he was happy you trusted him with the key. König held out his elbow for you to hold and led you towards the event. You were still nervous but you brushed it off, you had someone there to protect you. The large hall was buzzing with conversation. Most people were sitting around in large groups having conversations and others were at the bar. There were string lights hung all around the ceiling giving the place a relaxing atmosphere. König led you to the bar eager to get a drink. Parties are not you or your Alpha's natural element.

He ordered a beer for himself and a gin and tonic for you. As you waited you glanced around taking in the different people. You were probably one of the very few omegas. You could tell who was military and who wasn't very easily. Some were still in uniform, others wore masks or dog tags. Some soldiers brought a plus one but it was a minority. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. You turned to see a familiar mohawk. 

“Hey! There they are!” Soap exclaimed pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You could smell the alcohol on him. 

“Hey, soap.” You eked out while being squeezed. 

Soap turned to König and gave the large Apex a hug as well. König grunted, a little uncomfortable with the contact but patted his back affectionately. 

“We've been waiting for you two to get here, everyone wants to meet the Colonel's Mrs.” His Scottish accent was thick and slightly slurred. 

The bartender set your drinks down and you quickly scooped yours up and took a sip. Soap led both of you away toward a group of men. You lingered behind König slightly allowing him to greet the group first. Soap announced your name loudly sparing König of the burden. You waved shyly giving everyone a small smile. Everyone greeted you and your Alpha before returning to the conversation they were having. You were grateful the attention on you didn't last as you could sip your cocktail and listen to the drunken ramblings of the soldiers. 

As the night dragged on, you met various people. You chatted with Ghost a bit and met Captain Price, as well as Gaz. Though the drunker people go the more rowdy things become. You sat on a chair near the group, only on your second drink. Your Alpha was loosening up after four. Soap suggested they go out to the field and play football, challenging Ghost to a team match. The whole group along with some others from the party joined them outside. König glanced over at you. 

“Will you be ok if I join them?” He asked gingerly.

“Of course, go have fun.” You gave him a reassuring smile. 

You watched him follow his coworkers out of the door into the frigid night. You decided to hang out at the bar as your drink was almost done. Although the night has been fine so far there was still something nagging in the back of your head. You plopped down on one of the bar stools and ordered another drink. Good thing this event had an open bar. You scrolled on your phone for a while not noticing how fast an hour has passed. An Alpha sat on the bar stool next to yours sighing loudly. You didn't bother acknowledging him as many people have sat there in the time that has passed. 

“It's a nice night huh? Not too cold.” The guy said in a European accent you can't place. 

You looked up from your phone. “Oh, are you talking to me?” 

“Yeah, I am. So uh, are you a new recruit or?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no, I'm just a visitor.” You glanced back at your phone hoping he would leave you alone. 

“I've never seen an omega like you.” 

“An omega like me?” You looked at him puzzled.

“Yeah, you're so exotic. I thought omegas like you have to stay in your own countries.” He said while taking a sip of his drink. 

“Well, that's rude and extremely ignorant.” You scowled at him.

“Come on, it's a compliment. I mean I knew your kind your be spicy but damn.” He chuckled. 

You took that as your cue to leave. And you stood up from the bar your felt a tug on the crown of your head. 

“I mean, is this even your real hair?” He rubbed the hair he grabbed in between his fingers. 

You ripped away from his grip. “What is wrong with you?! Don't touch me!” You yelled. Everyone at the bar turned to look in your direction. 

“Relax, I'm just joking around.” The Alpha said trying to diffuse the situation. 

“You don't touch a random person's hair, who raised you?!” 

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder gently from behind. The Alpha you were confronting turned pale. 

“Schatz? What did he do?” Your Alpha asked lowly.

 You turned to face König anger still written all over your face. As angry as you were, you wanted this to be a teaching moment for this young Alpha. You turned back to the Alpha who was standing up now sweat forming on his face. 

“Nothing Alpha, this guy just needs to watch where he's going, right?” You eyed him carefully. 

“Yes! Yes, I'm very sorry miss.” He looked down at your feet. 

You looked up at König who seemed unconvinced. He was staring daggers into the young Alpha. You saw König take a deep breath closing his eyes while doing so. When he opened them he looked down at you.

“Time to go, it's a long drive home.” He placed a hand on the small of your back and led you out.

 Some people glanced in your direction as you left. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You hurried to the car in an effort to get out of the cold. König opened your door for you and helped you slide into the passenger seat. 

“I forgot something inside, I'll be right back.” He said quickly shutting the door and storming back inside the building. 

You couldn't tell if he was about to torture that soldier or not. But you did what you could, if he gets in trouble it's his own fault. König came back out no more than two minutes later. As he started the car, you got cozy relishing in the heated air. 

“What did you forget?” You ask him.

“I had a project for Ghost, I had to tell him about it.”

“Hmm.” You responded, not buying it completely. 

As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.

As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König shook you awake gently. “We're home.”

You stirred and sat up stretching gently. You felt warm, a little too warm. Did you drink that much? You followed König into the apartment and kicked off your shoes at the door. That's when the cramp hit you. It was so painful it made you dizzy causing you to stumble. König caught you by the arm and ushered you to the couch.

“Schatz? You're burning up.” He laid you down and hurried to the kitchen.

You felt the sweat forming on your brow. Your heat had come early. You whined into the couch cushions trying to breathe through the dull achy pain. König brought some water and sat you up to drink.

“Why didn't you tell me your heat was coming?” he said concerned.

“Early...it came early.”

taglist: i hope i got everyone

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@somanyminidragons 

@tizylish @thychuvaluswife

@luvamps @ghostslittlegf @justkillme2005

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[stevie-petey]

hi!! can we get a cute fluffy stug blurb to deal with all the angst? your writing is genuinely so incredible i get scared to read a new chapter bc i don’t want to see them suffer but your writing is so so so good it just draws me in completely. I hope you’re proud of come home bc it’s INCREDIBLE i don’t think i’ve read anything related to steve that i love more. and the blurbs?? what else could we ask for omg you’re giving us EVERYTHING

hi dear !! i was savin a fluffy request for when we needed one, and i think after these last few days ,,,, some cute bickering between robin, steve, dustin, and bug is needed.

enjoy <3

"your boyfriends late."

"the bell rang like, five seconds ago."

"hes still late."

robin rolls her eyes at dustin while you shove him off the curb. he yelps in surprise and you snicker. "watch your step, dusty."

"do not call me that." he glares at you, straightening his hat. hes shot up at least three inches since this summer and soon he'll be your height and not so easy to shove onto the street.

"children, please." robin sighs exhaustedly. "i have a four hour shift ahead of me. can we save the arguing for later?"

"she started it!" dustin exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger at you while you point at him and shout, "he started it!"

a car pulls up behind the two of you. "whatever youre arguing about, im on y/n's side."

steve pokes his head out through his rolled down window. hes wearing his stupidly cheesy raybands that youve come to adore. smiling at you, he sends you an air kiss. "miss me?"

dustin thwacks the teens nose, eliciting a very unattractive screech to fall from steves lips. "never do that again."

your brother then gets into the back of the car while you and robin giggle hysterically. she has to clutch onto your arm to avoid toppling over in her laughter. youre no better yourself, snorting with every quick inhale of breath.

"tha' wasn' funny," steve holds his nose while he tilts his head back. hes worried the shithead gave him a bloody nose, but all you and robin can focus on is how nasally his voice is now.

the two of you laugh even harder, and all steve can do is flick you off and pout.

"you guys are assholes." he grumbles, finally starting the car after you and robin collect yourselves.

"im sorry, honey." you press a soft, gentle kiss to the tip of steves nose. "is that better?"

of course your kiss made steve feel infinitely better. but he isnt an idiot. hes aware of the audience in his car. theres no way hes giving dustin and robin even more ammunition against him.

"not answerin' that."

dustin snorts. "oh, so now hes smart not to flirt with you in front of me."

"why are you even in my car?"

"why are you even dating my sister?"

robin raises her hand. "i have an even better question: why am i being driven to my shift that starts in five minutes?"

"thats a great question, robin." your body turns to the one next to you. "steve, care to answer?"

steve waves a sarcastic hand at you, but he pulls out of the school parking lot anyways. you, robin, and dustin cheer. though steves eyebrows are knit in annoyance, you know hes secretly elated as well. its rare to have a day at family video with you and dustin alongside him and robin.

with your shifts at the bookstore and dustins growing fascination with eddie, its nice to just have some time with one another. family video always feels bleaker without the hendersons.

"alright, what has horny heather selected this week?" dustin makes himself at him behind the video counter. long having memorized the systems password, he easily logs into the stores rental catalogue.

horny heather is the name youve given one of family videos most frequent customers. shes an older women with a bizarre fixation for movies with attractive male leads. it wouldnt be so bizarre if it werent for the fact that she regularly rewinds to every single shirtless scene the movies contains.

and every nude scene.

sometimes you hate how much family video knows about its customers.

you plop down next to dustin. "my money is on anything with tom cruise. she seems to have a thing for brunettes."

"and who can blame her?" steve flicks his hair out of his face. "we're obviously the best."

robin throws her jacket at him. "stop drooling over yourself. its unbecoming for a young man."

"dude, you sound like my mom."

"jokes on you. your mom is totally a babe," robin bats her eyelashes at him. "im taking that as a compliment."

steve blanches at this, completely disgusted and offended. he looks at you incredulously. "you hearing this? she just called my mom a babe. thats-thats just so wrong-"

"your mom is pretty hot." you shrug at steve. "sorry, honey. im on robins side."

robin high fives you, snickering in victory. steves jaw drops in pure astonishment. hes speechless. he cant believe youd betray him like this. he cant believe you think his own mother is hot.

dustin looks at the scene before him and shakes his head. you guys are being totally immature. "cmon, guys. thats just wrong."

steve waves his arms out at the kid. "see? thank you, little henderson. god, i cant believe youre the only one here with any sense left-"

"of course, buddy!" dustin smiles wickedly at him. "its silly for y/n and robin to call your mom hot. we all know its really your dad is way hotter."

"what-?" steve gasps for air.

"his broodiness is hot, isnt it?" you grab dustins arm excitedly. "i mean, hes just so stoic. so stern."

robin pretends to faint. "its so... manly."

steve goes to the corner and screams.

which just so happens to be the same corner a poor, old woman is browsing in.

he ends up getting hit with her cane.

its a good day.

[digitulworld]

DHMIS teachers answers if you asked them the interview questions

Where do you live?

Sketchbook: In the dark, sometimes.

Tony: Midwest.

Shrignold: Far away from you.

Colin: Indoors, outdoors, sideways, vertical, and horizontal.

Spinach Can: Ping-pong galleria with my friend Schmuck.

Steak Guy: In your house!

Lamp: A magic barn.

What do you like to eat?

Sketchbook: I’m on a liquid diet.

Tony: It’s in the attic somewhere.

Shrignold: Something very warm.

Colin: Extra large cereal.

Spinach Can: Cardboard

Steak Guy: I can’t believe you would ask me that.

Lamp: Pink bones, red fibers, and a spinning wheel.

What is your favorite color?

Sketchbook: Green. Is this a trick question? It’s green.

Tony: Tan.

Shrignold: Lots and lots of purple.

Colin: The one with five letters.

Spinach Can: What color is grass?

Steak Guy: Grey horses.

Lamp: You're being too silly right now, you have to stop.

Do you like cows or goats?

Sketchbook: Anything yellow.

Tony: It doesn't matter to me. Nothing matters to me.

Shrignold: A baby sheep, is that like a goat?

Colin: Lizards.

Spinach Can: I made a cow mad once, and then got Cow Mad Syndrome.

Steak Guy: Big ones. Just the big ones.

Lamp: It jumps over the moon!

Do you have brown hair?

Sketchbook: Only on Tuesdays.

Tony: Are you stupid?

Shrignold: Lime green, like my mothers.

Colin: I asked you first!

Spinach Can: You should stop asking me that, I'll give it back later.

Steak Guy: It just gets stuck like this sometimes.

Lamp: Yesterday I saw a dog, but it was an evil dog. Don't ask me how I know.

What is your blood type?

Sketchbook: I had to glue some on myself so they'd stop bothering me.

Tony: Just a big clump.

Shrignold: I don't know, they all look the same.

Colin: I can't remember what it looks like! It’s very shy.

Spinach Can: What the *beep* is blood?

Steak Guy: Blood? Is that what they call it nowadays?

Lamp: Theres worms in me.

What are you allergic to?

Sketchbook: Having a nose.

Tony: It changes every day, and has been for the past 977 days.

Shrignold: Absolutely positively everything.

Colin: Fish paste.

Spinach Can: Eggshells, all of them. They pushed me down the stairs once.

Steak Guy: I don't need one!

Lamp: The Boogeyman. We’re on bad terms.

Whats your favorite idea?

Sketchbook: Anything but this question.

Tony: The giant bird that appears in my dreams sometimes.

Shrignold: My favorite pair of shoes.

Colin: My idea website. It generates ideas, like fun ways to hold a spoon.

Spinach Can: Hammers! Lots of hammers! And a nickel!

Steak Guy: Throwing my keys into a hole.

Lamp: TV shows about Alaska.

What do you find exciting?

Sketchbook: Big balloons, the alphabet, kites, gas planets, carpentry, a sock. The rest is personal.

Tony: Basements with creaky stairs.

Shrignold: Moths in small amounts.

Colin: Every 14th day of the month.

Spinach Can: A really really really small traffic cone, that tells you when you're going to die.

Steak Guy: Mold.

Lamp: Four trampolines.

What happened after the olden days?

Sketchbook: TVs started using colors, and now people are ungrateful.

Tony: I’m not playing your little game.

Shrignold: Everyone got sad, so I had to help them.

Colin: There were three wars, four explosions, and two train crashes, all in 1958.

Spinach Can: The world got mucky and ate dirt and beans.

Steak Guy: A rude mouse flipped the bird at me.

Lamp: They had bigger and bigger dreams, and then everyone got so big, they had to stop eating foods that made them dream big. The moral of this story is that you should wash your hands twice a day.

What are you scared of?

Sketchbook: Medium-sized rodents.

Tony: 7:00pm.

Shrignold: Whatever you're scared of.

Colin: A pound of sand.

Spinach Can: Mud crunching.

Steak Guy: Holes in pudding.

Lamp: The big night sky we’ll all get lost in one day.

What are your hobbies?

Sketchbook: Throwing vegetables at paintings, you should try it one day.

Tony: Watching people blink.

Shrignold: I sew clothes for my friends, but their first question is always, “How do you know my exact measurements? I never told you them.” You just can’t please everyone.

Colin: Data analyzation, accounting, coding, excessive security measurements.

Spinach Can: It’s beach ball related, if you know what I mean.

Steak Guy: Meat hobbies.

Lamp: Finding used cigarettes on the ground and taping them together to make a big cigarette, I call it The Ultimate.

What is your favorite song?

Sketchbook: Banging plastic together, if thats a song.

Tony: The Screaming Album, 1938.

Shrignold: I made all of them up.

Colin: Trapezoid Angles by Super Henry 3

Spinach Can: Four of them and they’re bad.

Steak Guy: Just noises?

Lamp: Mr. Bungle

Where do you go on holiday?

Sketchbook: My imaginary imagination place.

Tony: I just walk around.

Colin: If I leave my house, I die instantly.

Shrignold: Every day is a holiday if you know what you're doing.

Spinach Can: Mister Loopy’s Pizza Restaurant that I keep getting kicked out of.

Steak Guy: Where all the pigs are.

Lamp: Nightmare Land.

Who do you love?

Sketchbook: The letter B

Tony: Boys? Girls?

Shrignold: Please don't.

Colin: My toothpaste bottle cap.

Spinach Can: Cheese thrown against the window.

Steak Guy: Finger soup! Teeth! Orphans!

Lamp: The giraffe I met once, that I went on adventures with.

What is love?

Sketchbook: Anything that smiles.

Tony: Something not very important.

Shrignold: Do you want me to tell you? I’m a little busy.

Colin: One of the twelve main Brain Viruses.

Spinach Can: Endless sink drains.

Steak Guy: A string of hair. A lot of hair.

Lamp: It grows two legs, and then one day it’ll kill you.

What do you dream of?

Sketchbook: Pools and pools of blood tubes.

Tony: It all became a blur to me, I had to stop before I went mad.

Shrignold: So many little squirrels eating me.

Colin: Untied shoelaces.

Spinach Can: Peanuts, but they keep spelling their name wrong.

Steak Guy: Markets that only sell one type of vinegar oil.

Lamp: I can’t dream, I have a condition.

[jackhues]

the group chat? - mockingbird! au (platonic! hughes)

requested by: anon :))

notes: continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting &lt;3

likes are good, reblogs are better &lt;3

mockingbird! au request rules! || mockingbird au! masterlist

gif not mine

"oh, i love this song!" your friend, em, shouted over the music.

downing her drink, she grabbed another friend of yours, raya, and pulled her to the dance floor. you and talia, another friend of yours, laughed as you watched the two stumble to the dance floor.

it was girls' night, the first one ever since you all graduated. it'd been a tough few months, all of you busy with new jobs and trying to navigate this new life. but it was worth it. because of nights like these.

"five dollars em comes here to throw her shoes off," talia nudged you, nursing her drink.

you took a sip of your own drink, laughing. "oh, you're on! she's gonna either throw them in the garbage, or at some man."

talia laughed loudly, spilling some of her drink. that made the two of you laugh some more.

"come on," talia said, finishing off her drink. "let's join those idiots."

you downed your drink, "let's go!"

the two of you stumbled across the dance floor, laughing to yourselves as you danced your way to your friends.

em was currently drunk as hell, and her shoes were missing.

"told you!" you elbowed talia, laughing at the face she made.

in your tipsy state, everything was hilarious to you. from the way em danced without shoes, to the way raya danced with talia, to the way the world felt fuzzy around the edges.

the only thing that wasn't funny was the guy staring at you.

he stood near the bar, sleeves rolled up and his bald head reflecting the lights of the bar. he nursed a drink in hand, but kept his eyes trained on you.

you made a face at him, moving out of his line of vision. he craned his neck, before switching seats to keep watching you. you furrowed your brows.

by now, he knew that you knew that he was watching him. but he still made no effort to try and hide what he was doing.

with a start, you realized that you'd seen him at a few other bars and restaurants before. and he was always staring at you.

"yeah, i'm not doing this tonight," you muttered to yourself, reaching for your phone.

you pulled out your last chat, jack, and texted him.

'theres sume werd guy straring atme ie sen him at otger plasces and hes crepy come pick mup plx?'

your phone buzzed with a positive response, followed by many more notifications. you ignored them all, just ready to go home and fall asleep in jack's arms.

"creepo behind me," you whispered to em. "i'm heading home. don't wanna die before seeing quinn play the boys tomorrow."

"jack's picking you up?" she asked.

you nodded.

em yawned, reaching out to grab raya and talia (who were still dancing together). "come on. we'll go wait for him. i think i'm gonna head home too."

"thanks."

em linked her arms through yours, the four of you making your way outside to wait for jack. behind you, the creepy guy was beginning to make his way to his feet.

"oh, we're going to die," you muttered. "he's coming."

"no we won't," raya assured you. she tapped one of the bouncers, "hi. there's that guy inside being a creep, and messing with my friends," she pointed at the person in the bar. "we're heading home because he's making us uncomfortable. if you don't mind, could you keep an eye on him so he doesn't follow us?"

the bouncer nodded, "don't worry. that's my job."

raya grinned as she turned back to the rest of them. "see? all handled. besides, jack's only a few minutes away from here."

"i just texted my brother," talia said. "he'll come pick the rest of us up."

you took a deep breath, feeling the tears building up. maybe it was your tipsy state, but you were feeling more emotional than usual. "i'm so sorry guys. this was supposed to be a fun girls' night and i ruined it."

"not you, it was that creepo dingbat," em assured you. "besides, it was fun. we had lots of fun. and none of us can handle hangovers, so it's best we didn't stay out any longer."

the four of you laughed quietly, remembering your university days. none of you were good at handling alcohol or hangovers.

you looked up as a familiar car pulled up, followed immediately by jack running out the back door and pulling you into his arms.

"you're okay? were you followed? did he hurt you?"

"you're shaking," you whispered, hugging him back.

jack took a deep breath to calm himself, still holding you close. "i was freaking terrified. i couldn't even drive because i was losing it."

"you made luke drive?" you asked, pulling away a little. you held his face in your hands, knowing the touch was the only thing keeping jack calm.

"are you alright?" luke asked, coming out of the passenger seat as the car parked. "that guy didn't come after you, right?"

"no, we left," you answered, giving luke a hug as well. "the bouncer's keeping an eye on him, making sure he doesn't follow us."

"that was smart of you guys, telling the bouncer," quinn added, stepping out of the driver's side.

you stared for a moment, before remembering quinn was in town for the game.

"raya's idea," you motioned towards your friend.

she sent a two fingered salute, before hugging you and following em and talia into talia's brother's car.

"alright, let's head home now," quinn said, pulling out one of jack's hoodies from the car and passing it to you. "it's best not to stay here any longer than we have to."

you thanked him, following jack into the car. the ride home was silent, but peaceful. all of you were shaken up a bit, but you were okay. that was the big thing.

making your way into jack's apartment, quinn locked the door behind you guys while luke brought a glass of water over to you.

"thanks kid," you smiled, finishing off the glass. you looked at quinn and jack as well, "thank you. all three of you."

"you don't have to thank us," quinn reminded you. "you texted the group chat, and all three of us came over immediately. we're family, y/n. we're gonna come for you no matter what."

you smiled at the three boys around you. you loved them so much, and times like this was when you realized they loved you too. you were family.

"i texted the group chat?" you repeated. "i thought i texted jack."

quinn laughed, "it was the group chat. and good thing, because jack was freaking out and didn't know what to do."

the three of you laughed a bit, grateful that the stress was gone.

now that the night was over, and you were finally home, the high of the alcohol was fading. your head was starting to hurt, and so were your feet. jack helped you change into some pajamas and wipe your makeup off.

the two of you headed back to the living room, where luke and quinn were fighting over what to watch on netflix.

"finding nemo," luke said.

"no, we're watching moana," quinn argued.

"you're both wrong. we're watching despicable me," you told them, lying down on the couch.

jack flopped down next to you, "oh, i like that movie!"

quinn and luke got excited as well, searching for the movie and pressing play. you cuddled into jack as luke and quinn camped out on the floor.

one by one, the boys fell asleep, the movie playing softly on the t.v. you smiled to yourself as you lay in jack's arms. this was what your childhood should've looked liked. a loving family, ready to do anything for you.

even though you didn't have it then, you were happy to have found it now.

---

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join my taglist!

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (5)

In which ollie and aubrey text for the first time

series masterlist

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

whitejadetigermovie posted

whitejadetigermovie our stars at the premiere!

WHITE JADE TIGER OUT IN THEATRES NEAR YOU

tagged: dallasliu, aubreyyang

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, walker.scobell and 882,007 others

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aubreyyang WOO HOO LET GO!!!

dallasliu so proud of everyone who helped make this happen

username1 wow they look so good

dior.n.goodjohn YES MY BABIES YOUVE SLAYED SO HARD

-- aubreyyang ILY DIOR

CNO MEDIA

NEWEST ARTICLES

White Jade Tiger, the newest historical drama premiered January 20th, 2025 at the TCL Chinese Theatre. The event was gorgeous with contemporary art featuring Asian artists. CNO media managed to snag a couple of interviews. View them down below.

Clip: An interviewer smiles at Aubrey, and she greets him with a wave and an excited grin.

I: Hey, it's great to see you!

A: Thanks! It's so nice to see everyone here to support the movie.

I: Speaking of the movie, are you surprised by the success?

A: Honestly, yeah. Very much, actually! Especially with a predominantly Asian cast, not a lot of movies like White Jade Tiger get so much traction. John, our director is an absolute genius. I learned so much from him.

I: Yeah, very true. Crazy Rich Asians was a complete hit. Anyways, congratulations! I just have a few questions for you.

A: Ooh, okay!

I: Alright. What is your favourite Asian snack?

A: Definitely boba. Does that count?

I: Haha, sure. What was your favourite scene to film?

A: Um, I think anything that was in the nature. I love B.C..

I: What was your go to entertainment on set?

A: (laughs, and flushes slightly) I watched a lot of Formula 1 and 2 on set. I got to go to the Monaco Grand Prix like what, four months ago? It was super fun.

I: Would you like to go again?

A: Well, yeah, of course! It's Formula 1, who wouldn't want to go? (smiles and shrugs)

I: Well, if anyone wants to sponsor her...

A: (looks and points at camera) You heard it here! (giggles)

I: Thanks for your time Aubrey, enjoy the night.

A: Thank you! I hope you like the movie. (waves and starts off towards the next press interview)

aubreyyang posted on their story

Caption: White Jade Tiger premiere! Go check it out in theatres near you 🐅

olliebearman replied to story

hey! congrats on the movie 😁

aubreyyang

hi and ty :)

olliebearman

it was really nice meeting you in monaco

aubreyyang

yeah! I had so much fun hopefully I can come to another race soon

olliebearman

let me know if your coming and we can get together w Charles and alex

aubreyyang

for sure ☺️

I need to head off to bed, but see u soon!

olliebearman

goodnight 😴

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang coming soon...

liked by olliebearman, cnomedia and 662, 173 others

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user1 UAHEHKFN DIRECTOR ERA WHAT WHAT WHAT

dior.n.goodjohn can't wait 🤫

-- aubreyyang hehehe

alexandrasaintmleux text me rn!!

-- aubreyyang yes ma'am!!

-- smoothoperatorrr55 their friendship means everything to me MOTHERSSS

dallasliu working hard or hardly working

-- aubreyyang shouldn't u be on set rn go get that bag

-- user2 theyre so sibling coded

-- daubrey009 NOOO

-- f1girlypop sorry y'all after that vid w ollie theres no way

ACTORS NEW E-MAGAZINE

AUBREY YANG'S DIRECTING DEBUT

Aubrey Yang, Hollywood's sweetheart at age 18, announces her directing debut with short film Pelt, a coming-of-age story discovering the complexities of femininity and identity. Attending New York University as a film and classics student since age 16, the former of her majors is coming to use as this film started off as a finals project.

"It's so crazy," Yang tells us over coffee, "that my school project is being bought out and brought to Hollywood". The young actress turned director "loves acting with [her] whole heart" but working behind the camera certainly has intrigue.

Filming took place over the last five months, only weeks after her movie with up and coming star Dallas Liu premiered. Her success is astounding: she has won more awards before she can legally drink than most people in this industry do in their whole careers. Maybe another award is coming for this young star, only in the creative category.

dior.n.goodjohn posted

dior.n.goodjohn Pelt has been nominated for Best Short Film and Best Screenplay for London Film Week!

I am so honoured to work on my best friend's debut as a director and screen-writer. There are no words to describe seeing someone so passionate for something they do and be recognized for it. This film is our baby, so go watch it, out now on multiple platforms!

tagged: aubreyyang

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aubreyyang when I asked you to play este in the film, I knew you would kill it. The insane vulnerability and dimension you brought to the character and screenplay is the only reason we're being nominated. you have exceeded my expectations for my finals project, and helped me bring my vision to life. London here we come baby ❣️

-- diorrrdear IM GOING TO CRY I JUST WATCHED IT AND ITS SO GUT WRENCHINGLY SAD AND ANGSTY

-- user1 "Hollywood never writes complicated female characters" UR WRONG BC AUBREY YANG IS HOLLYWOOD

dallasliu ate 🍽️

-- dior.n.goodjohn 4 + 4

user2 literally no one cares stop pushing this narrative of being a woman is hard like shut up u don't even deserve the nominations

-- aubrollielovess who?

-- user2 ?

-- aubrollielovess who tf asked u get outta here

olliebearman posted

olliebearman Home race this weekend, feeling like P1 🫡

tagged: scuderiaferrari

liked by kimi.antonelli, aubreyyang and 699,007 others

user1 photo 2 is so slutty he knows what hes doing

-- user2 he turned 20 got a f1 seat and is living the life I too would be a little slutty

scuderiaferrari sliverstone circuit you never disappoint ❤️

smoothoperatorrr55 MY PIPELINE AUBREY IS GOING TO BE IN LONDON

-- user3 stop ur embarrassing urself

kimi.antonelli 💪

user4 hes doing so well for his first year on the grid PROUD OF U BABY BEARMAN

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow @honethatty12

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[rabbitshat]

I have such a devious little idea, imagine with me if you will.

RiseTMNT and Arcane AU

Theres no Rise Mystic/Magic, its all Arcane cannon magic

The hidden city becomes the Undercity/Zaun and NewYork is replaced by Piltover.

Humans are first class citizens, Yokai live in the Undercity as second class citizens and Mutants are third class.

Donnie(20) my beloved with spinal issues bcs of some accident in his youth working his ass off to gain footing in Piltover and trying to make the world a better place for the people in the Undercity(a Viktor replacement in a way). He left the Undercity about five years ago.

The rest of the turtles have to steal from humans, as one does, to survive. But when that stops being a reliable source of money for food (necessities in the Undercity are suuuper over priced, even to Piltover standars, but what are they gonna do? Go up top and buy there? Thats a joke.) Raph(23) goes to work for Big Mama and gains her as a patron in a way. Hes still massive and a scary bastard, he has a side hustle in the BloodDome as one of its best fighters.

Leo's(20) leader of the Firelights, a real revolutionary that one. After Raph started to work for BigMama, Leo took the reigns as Mike's(17) big bro. He started to gain a sort of street rep similar to Raph's, but in a much more "family man" kind of way. He is known to have loyalty that kills, the family comes first and if someone --even if they themselves are a part of the family-- threatens his family (especially the younger ones) they will face a painful death.

Mike's(17) know as the Icarus but simultaneously the Sun of the Undercity. He's a dreamer and almost all teens his age in the city love to hate him. The kids love him and his art of course, he even might teach you how to run the rooftops. But the teens hate how untouched by the cruel life in the Undercity he seems, there's a lot of prejudice in those thoughts in the "how dare a mutant be so care free". Of course they cant really DO anything to him, what with Leo and Raph's reputations on the streets (even if BigRed isnt around all that much) but they go to extreme lengths to ostracize him.

Splinter, a very reputable and beloved Council member that got mutated by ~mysterious circumstances~ that runs away to the Undercity only to find the four brothers.

Imagine with me, Donnie on the bridge that connects the Undercity Leo beside him begging him to cone home. He tells him how isolated Mike is, how Raph has been working and fighting for BigMama. How he needs to just come home so they can finally be a family again. A lie he knows all too well, he tells it to himself everytime he catches a glance of Raph on the more seedy parts of the Undercity standing over a beat up yokai, the pink glow of BigMama's drug enhancements reflecting off the alley's walls. He repeats it every time he sees the other teens ridicule Mike as if he were some sort of vermin.

If Donnie, his brother, his twin just comes home everything will be ok again. Its been so long and his back looks so much worse, and please just leave it all behind and come home.

Its an unfair ask, he knows that, its selfish but he cant do this anymore.

"I cant, i have a lot left to do still. I promised you id only go back when i found a way to make life better for everyone. And i did! I just need time-"

"How much time do you STILL need Donnie?! Its been five years! Mike's not a little kid anymore- hes seventeen! I almost cant recognize Raph anymore, Dad's gone and it feels like im losing YOU. What? Do you think you fit better up here?! Are you better than us now that you 'made it' up here?! Are you one of the good ones just because you have something to give them?!"

Its an ugly fight, words were said and their already fragile bond feels like someone took a serrated bread knife and cut into it a thousand times.

Leo has never wanted to die more than the day the news of the Council being blown up reaches his ears, the day the people of Zaun celebrated the start of a battle for freedom. The day he thought his brother was dead and the last thing they did together was fight.

(I haven't watched the new Arcane season but im very exited to lol)

[thesweetestdevotion]

May I request a reading on Jay of Enhypen’s personality if he is comfortable sharing that is?

heyo!! i've done a reading on jay as a bf, where i go in a bit about his personality, so check it out if you'd like. I'll go a little more in depth about his personality here:

Jay Enhypen Personality

before i even started i heard this song in my head: Streets is Callin' by B2K

so check it out if youre called to, maybe theres some messages in the lyrics. or he just likes the song lol. Also again hella cards jumped out, all at the same time. talkative much?? is he a yapper pls let me know im curious...

Dice: Mars, Gemini, 9th House

Tarot: Five of Wands Reversed, Four of Coins, Four of Cups Reversed, The Hanged Man, King of Coins, Three of Coins Reversed, Justice, Page of Coins, Ten of Wands

Okay so similar vibes as his bf reading. Theres the same emphasis on his position as a leader(?) he thinks about his financial position a lot and is very money smart! He likes to save money, and plan out what to do with it before he does (nice hehe). does he take care of his family in some way? i feel he looks up to an older man close to him, dont know what thats about. He seems like the type of guy to try to stop fights here with the five of wands reversed. Maybe he plays a peacemaker role in his relationships and friendships, he definetly feels diplomatic and fair. he's your guy if you need a third party to judge an argument or a fight, like a little personal lawyer hehe.

also sidenote after i heard that first song, i kept having the urge to listen to old rnb and hip hop. does he like that kinda music? i dont usually do music while reading to avoid distractions, but rn we're like jamming out!! he kinda wants to show this as a part of his personality, idk if thats a part of himself he's showed before. Its american rnb and hip hop (early to mid 2000's) did he live in america during this time?

continuing... hes such a martyr lol. someone tell him he doesnt have to sacrifice himself for everything all the time. he needs to learn how to work with others better. He has people around him willing to shoulder the burden with him but hes like nah, ill do it alone (bruh) like he tends to overwhelm himself with everyone's problems!! yall tell him chill out and share the hard work with other people!!

lastly, hes very realistic and grateful for his opportunities in life. Im getting hes grateful for all the people who support him! he seems very open about that lol. also could be happy with his bandmates, it seems he enjoys working with them, he just needs to improve upon effective teamwork (let people help u pls)

also im just letting music play by random and all the songs are fire so.. good music taste!!

I hope yall like this one! it was so fun to do <3

(last song as i finish this reading was No Scrubs by T.L.C!! thats so funny hehe reminds me of his bf reading)

[little-forest-goblin]

So i had a fun idea. We all know the Season four diner or deli scene and the multiple variations of five there. It’s funny to me cause it’s obvious there is some odd system they have where they all have a certain name and style so no one is confused. I decided to go through and name the certain fives. this is all personal opinion and thought so please no hate. its really a to each there own situation theres no need to fight about it.

So let’s get the ones we have been aware of out the way. We know booth five being the one who called S4 five over to his table. we know waiter five and brisket five being the ones we have been made aware of. There is also that one five with the news paper. Now i have heard him be referred to as newspaper five OR good with numbers five. now i don’t remember if booth five referred to newspaper/good with numbers five with any if those names but if he didnt here we are. Now that we got those obvious fives out the way i just wanna say i dont have the answer for all of them cause some of the things they are doing are quite mundane like eating soup and i dont think anyone is gonna refer to him as something like soup five i dont think that will ever happen. Now if my memory serves me right there is two fives writing in a notebook and i thought thats pretty normal for five he has always had something to write in but hey where’s the creativity in that and i thought what if there is a mathematician five who is just obsessing with numbers and another who could be documenting his days in the deli diner thing. another thought that crossed my mind that would be more in character is a version of him that has gone wacko with theories about timelines and events and he is just writing them down to either investigate or obsess over later. now in this scene there are a few different fives that i cant quite place my finger on what version of five they might be and what to call them so if you have an idea don’t be afraid to comment an idea.

Now this scene right here has the obvious booth five and brisket five. There is one version that has a name not quite world wide but we have it which is loose neck tie five. Now people might argue and say thats drunk five but i don’t think so. if my memory serves me right again (Cause i flat out refuse to go see any of those episodes again) drunk five was up to some shenanigans and needed another fives help so i dont think loose necktie five is drunk five. Speaking on drunk five if your confused where i got that if you have subtitles on or listen close enough you will see a conversation talking about drunk five. then there is the obvious five over there that seems to be antsy considering his stance in both pictures. either he is a five just filled with impatience to get his order, a five just in general riddled with anxiety or he could just be waiting. So you can imagine his name is either anxious five or waiting five depending on what you decide (again everything is up for debate. my word is not law here okay?). if you also look behind the counter with brisket five is another five. Now we dont exactly see what he is doing so the best i can offer is chef five.

Again none of my words are law and set so please feel free to name them whatever you want.

Also if you have idea’s for what some of the names of the versions of five i didnt get or think of are please feel free to comment or come up with an idea. so please up have fun.