#because it never does and it never will😂

[zepskies]

Wowowow!! 😍 First of all, thanks so much. You really spoiled me with this review and it totally made my day!

I find it really interesting that this fic is the first one you've read from me, since it's such a "niche" pairing. But I love that you loved it (and my writing 🥰)!! Christmas is my favorite holiday too -- in no small part because of the food! lol I had fun incorporating my family's traditions into this one, and of course, feeding Dean. 😆

Diving into the rest of your amazing (and hilarious) comments below!

(you should know as I'm typing this I am daydreaming about the flan, you should just straight up know that LOL)

Giiiirl, get you some flan! My mom makes it so good. I can't wait for the holidays. 😮‍💨

I am happily being led while pushing Dean out of the way to get to it first. Lovingly of course lol.

lolll I'm dead! I can picture Dean's (playful) outrage. 😂

Not going to lie, I'd be giving Sam a little bit of the stink eye myself. What is so wrong with Dean enjoying himself a little? Besides...give me ALL the flan!!! Sam doesn't know what he's missing.

Right? Don't bother the man on Christmas lmao. Sam ate plenty on this round too, he has no room to judge! 😆

This right here is perfection. It made my heart break for Dean as well as Sam for their childhood, what Dean had to sacrifice at times to take care of Sam, how Sam never realized it before...just so perfectly written and so on point.

Aww thank you. It was an HC of mine that stemmed from bits we got of their childhood, and that one ep where someone was like, "You ever been hungry? Like haven't eaten in days, hungry?" And Dean was like, "Yeah..." 😭😭

I feel like from Sam's POV, he would never have known hunger with Dean around, even when things were tight and they were waiting on John.

Moments like this are worth melting for. 😉 (seriously though, I'm pretty sure I have to call someone to get the wetvac to get me up off of the floor)

LOLL honestly same! Oh for Dean to gather me to his chest in a warm snuggle. 🫠🫠

The whole ending scene just makes my heart glad, especially with her offering to go for a walk with Dean, most likely keeping in mind what Sam said (while Sam is keeping what she said in mind - like I said, perfection!) , but I especially loved the ending sequence right here:

Ahhh you caught what I was laying down there! She cares about Dean's health, but she also cares about his happiness. While Sam's now going to be taking what she said into account and try to have a convo with his brother about it in the future.

Ahaha and he so DOES wear shorts when the need arises! 😏

This was just beyond sweet and it was something I very much needed back when I read through it the first time. (I'm sorry I didn't leave feedback until now! I'm trying to be better about that these days) I love the way you write the Winchesters and this one shot cemented you as one of my favorite writers I've come across in this fandom (as well as a few others 😉).

Aww I'm so glad this little fic could give you some much needed escapism. (It's ok, friend. I'm just grateful that you did!) And that's an amazing compliment, thank you!! I'm honored to be counted as one of your favorites! 😭💜

I definitely cannot wait to dive into the Midnight Espresso verse and get more of these two. You did a beautiful job here, lovely!!! Well done!!! 😊💖💖

I would absolutely love it if you delved deeper into the Midnight Espresso verse!! It's a passion series of mine, so it really means that much more to me that you enjoyed it, as well as left such a heartfelt review. 💕

Get Stuffed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Summary: Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

AN: This was requested by my lovely friend @iprobablyshipit91: Sam making the usual digs at Dean about his diet, and how much he eats, and the reader pulling him aside and telling him to back off as he doesn’t realize how much Dean went hungry as a kid to make sure Sam was fed.

Word Count: 1,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, innuendo, tinge of angst

**This story can be read as stand-alone, but you can also check out the full masterlist of one-shots below. ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

“Aw, hell yeah,” Dean mutters. He rubs his hands together and surveys the immovable feast that’s about to get shoveled into his mouth.

This Christmas marks roughly your first year living with the brothers Winchester in the bunker, and a few months after your first anniversary with Dean.

He’s made it very clear that he enjoys your cooking, especially of Cuban food. So you’ve gone all out for Christmas: white rice and your grandmother’s recipe for black beans, boiled yuca with plenty of garlic, bread drizzled with more garlic and olive oil, and Dean’s favorite…

“What’s this part of the pig called again?” he asks. And he uses a large fork to spear into the mountain of roasted meat that you’ve already cut and piled onto a platter.

You come in from the kitchen with the bread in hand, placing it on the dinner table. You sidle up behind him, where he's seated.

“The shoulder,” you say, squeezing both of Dean’s. He hums in interest as you press a kiss to the side of his head. “It’s called pernil. Marinated with garlic, mojo, bunch of good stuff.”

He predictably steals a juicy piece of meat, plopping it into his mouth. He grins while he chews and makes a happy sound.

“Ohoho, yeah.”

You share an amused look with Sam, who sits beside his brother. By the time you’ve found your seat on Dean’s other side, he’s already serving you and Sam the same hefty portions he serves himself.

You know for a fact you’re only going to eat about half of your plate. Sam manages to polish his off. Dean does as well…and serves himself twice more before you break out the dessert.

“Please tell me that’s a flan,” Dean says, drumming his fingers on the table.

“How the hell are you still hungry?” Sam asks.

The look on his face says he’s half entertained, half disgusted. Dean is still sucking on the crispy skin on a piece of pork. He licks the juices off his fingers.

“Have I taught you nothing?” he says. “There’s always room for dessert.”

He tosses you a wink, followed closely by a suggestive smirk. You glance at him with a smile as you set down the metal pan.

“It is a flan,” you affirm. “I tried my hand at coconut this time.”

“Ooh, tropical,” Dean says, waggling greasy fingers. He wipes them on a napkin before he reaches for the pie cutter, which is usually reserved for his favorite dessert. Although, flan is rapidly becoming his second go-to. The rich custardy goodness is calling to him like a siren song.

“How can I get you to make this more often?” Dean mutters while carving out a generous slice.

Your lips curve. You rest your chin on your hand and lean towards him, earning his gaze. “If I made it all the time, you wouldn’t savor it, now would you?”

Dean smirks. His gaze lowers to your lips, like he’s contemplating some persuasive maneuvers.

“You’d also be 300 pounds,” Sam remarks, taking a sip of his beer.

You eye Sam with a frown. But Dean just laughs it off and cuts his little brother a slice.

By the end of the meal, all three of you are stuffed. Dean groans and leans back in his seat. A gurgle mounts audibly from his stomach.

“Jesus. Are you erupting?” Sam says.

Dean holds up a finger. “Wait for it.”

You give your boyfriend a bemused look. You know exactly what’s about to happen. As does Sam, who’s grimacing.

A few seconds later, Dean does erupt, with a truly legendary belch.

“Nice,” you say wryly. Dean squeezes your soft, thick thigh and backs his chair away from the table.

“Well, since I roasted the pig and you did the rest, I’d say it’s Sammy’s turn on cleaning duty,” he says.

“Thanks,” Sam says, with a wan smile. Yours is more jovial, even as Dean’s hand toys with a curl of your hair after he stands.

“I’m gonna shower off the meat sweats,” he says.

You giggle, but you nod. “You do that. I’ll help Sam a bit, put away the food at least.”

Your smile becomes more genuine when Dean drops a kiss on your forehead from above.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. His voice is a quiet, deep rumble washing over you. You know what he’s thanking you for: good food, and a small, but warm Christmas.

You reach up and give his cheek a tender touch, before he withdraws and makes his way to the bedroom he shares with you. It leaves you and Sam to collect what’s on the table and bring it all into the kitchen. While Sam does the dishes, you start to put away the leftovers.

Something has been nagging at you all night, though you’ve tried to stamp it down time and time again. You don’t know if it's your place to say something. Especially if Dean doesn’t seem bothered…but it bothers you. And you’ve never been one to hold your tongue.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you begin, even as a small bit of trepidation niggles inside you.

Sam looks over at you. He’s quick to catch the serious note in your demeanor.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he replies. You okay? his eyes also ask.

“Why do you get on Dean so much for enjoying his food?” you ask.

Sam blinks. Then he scoffs a little. “There’s enjoying, and then there’s gluttony.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue.

“He ate half his weight in pig,” Sam says. You can’t exactly deny that, but you cross your arms and turn to him, leaning your hip against the counter.

“So? It’s Christmas. Let him be happy,” you retort.

Sam levels you with pinched brows. “He’s not in his 20s anymore. All that crap he eats is going to catch up to him someday.”

“What, you expect him to down some kale smoothies?” you reply, giving a pointed brow raise and a teasing smile. “Get up at the crack of dawn for a bare-chested run?”

Sam shoots you a dry look.  

“My point is, I’m not gonna survive hundreds of monster attacks just to get taken down by cholesterol,” he says.

You sigh a raise a placating hand. “All right. I get what you’re saying. I’m just saying…have you ever thought about why he loves food so much? Why he overindulges sometimes?”

Sam's brow quirks. It’s a question you know you need to tread lightly in order to answer. You uncross your arms to lay a hand on Sam’s wrist. He stops washing dishes and turns off the sink to give you his full attention, sensing your shift.

You look up at him, and you steel yourself.

“He might’ve mentioned once…that you two sometimes had a hard time growing up. With John taking you guys from motel to motel while he was working a job, and every now and then, leaving you guys alone longer than he meant to.”

Dean had been more than a bit drunk when you’d gotten this out of him. Hearing about that aspect of his upbringing had upset you, not just as someone who cared about him, but the caretaker in you smarted.

“Even though you guys didn’t have enough money at times, your brother always made sure you were fed,” you explain. You meet Sam’s gaze, squeezing his arm. “Sometimes he went without.”

Sam’s expression slowly slackens, contemplative and dismayed at what you’re implying. He dries his hands on a kitchen towel and rubs at his mouth, like he’s reeling back the years of evidence in his mind and trying to confirm if you were right.

“You don’t remember?” you gently ask.

Sam shakes his head. “I mean, I knew things were tight. I remember him taking care of me, obviously. But…”

He doesn’t remember his brother going hungry.

It carves a hole of remorse in his chest.

This isn’t the first time he’s had to reexamine Dean’s role in his life, and not the first time he’s felt this flavor of guilt. But he sighs and really doesn’t know what to say.

You seem to realize that, and you squeeze his arm one last time.

“Just keep that in mind,” you implore.

You soon leave him to venture upstairs, but there in the kitchen, Sam makes a resolution before the new year. One that includes having a conversation with his brother.

You find Dean in your bedroom. Now in his most threadbare sweatpants and an old black shirt, he lays over the covers on the bed. His eyes are closed and his arms are folded behind his head, but he hears you when you come in.

You slide into bed next to him and lay your head on his chest. He groans deep and slowly lowers his arms. One of them wraps around your frame.

“Think I overdid it a bit,” he admits, cracking his eyes open. You smile and gently pat his stomach. 

“Wanna go for a walk tomorrow?” you ask. “We can go down to the park.”

Dean raises a brow at you. “You hate walking.”

“Not true,” you shake your head, before you rest more comfortably against him. He tucks you in beside him and begins to run his fingers down your arm. It’s a bit distracting.

“Could be nice, with the right view,” you add, though you shiver a little at his touch.

Dean makes a sound of mild interest in the idea. “I guess, if you like stringy trees and frozen lakes.”

It’s winter in Lebanon. Not much to look at.

You smirk and press a kiss to his chest. “I mean, that, and you in some little Richard Simmons shorts.”

Dean gives you a look, and you giggle so hard it shakes your whole body against him.

“Honestly, I think that’ll really do it for me,” you tease. You walk two fingers across his thigh, where a cute pair of ‘80s-style exercise shorts would cut off.

Dean grabs your hand and rolls you over, pinning you underneath him on the bed. His thigh slips between both of yours, causing friction against your jeans. And he smirks down at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.”

AN: 😂 A little callback to S1 at the end there. I hope you guys liked this! Just in time to prepare for my Christmas cooking! ❤️💚

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "A Wish to Build a Dream On":

Summary: Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship as you struggle to help him. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.

▶️ Next Story: A Wish to Build a Dream On

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[acknowledge-reigns]

Rivals With Benefits | Jey x Black!fem OC (18+)

Description: Jey and Jax disagree on plans for Roman and Iris engagemennt party.

Chapter: 1/5

Face Claim: Ariana Debose.

Warnings: Arguing, Mild Angst, Strong language.

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. This is the Jey x Jax sequel to Swipe Right. As always my stories are NOT about real people and does not reflect their character. While there is not smut in Chapter 1, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. This particular story features Jey as a Daddy Dom (Not Mysterio, you fucking nerds 😂) google if necessary and if this isn't for you, please scroll. You have been warned.

Word count: 1,867

My masterlist can be found here

Iris and Roman sat down with Jax and Jey to discuss the details of their engagement party. They'd decided against the stereotypical Bachlorette and bachelor party and just wanted to have one big gathering. After some discussion, they decided to leave the planning to the two of them, knowing that they could handle it.

However, as soon as they started planning, it became clear that Jax and Jey were not on the same page. They argued about everything from the venue to the guest list to the menu. Just like their first date.

Jax was frustrated with Jey's need to control everything. "Why do you always have to be in charge?" she snapped. "Can't you just trust me to make some decisions for once?"

Jey rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by Jax's accusation. "I'm not trying to control anything," he retorted. "I just want things to be perfect, and that includes every little detail."

Jax scoffed, not believing him for a second. "You always have to have everything your way," she retorted. "It's not about perfection, it's about finding a balance and making decisions together."

"Roman will have my head if we fuck this up and upset Iris. You're not bloodline. You don't get it." Jey snapped.

Jax was taken aback by Jey's harsh words, but she refused to back down. "You think I don't care about Iris's happiness? she's my big sister!" she retorted, her voice shaking slightly. "And just because I'm not part of your 'bloodline' doesn't mean I don't understand what it means to be family. you are so full of yourself!"

Jey's face darkened at Jax's comment, his eyes narrowing. "I am full of myself?" he said through gritted teeth. "You're the one who can't seem to get past our first date, even a full year later. You still hold it against me."

Jax clenched her fists, feeling the familiar anger and hurt bubbling up inside her. "Of course I do," she snapped. "You were arrogant and dismissive. You didn't even try to make me feel comfortable."

"I was trying to be a gentleman!" Jey argued back.

Jax let out a derisive laugh. "Oh please," she said sarcastically. "A gentleman doesn't ignore his date's feelings and make her feel like a fool."

Jey's jaw clenched tighter, his anger rising. "You're impossible," he said, his voice filled with frustration. "You never give me a chance to explain myself or make things right. You just assume the worst of me."

"And you never take responsibility for your actions," Jax shot back, her eyes flashing with anger. "You always blame everyone else for everything. I'm sick of it. You want to control everything because you lack control in your professional and family life because you let Roman push you around like a little bitch!"

Jey's face twisted into a snarl at Jax's harsh words. He was used to being pushed around by Roman, but hearing it from Jax felt like a personal attack. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said through gritted teeth, his fists clenched at his sides.

Jax crossed her arms, her expression hardening. "Oh, I think I do," she retorted. "You're a yes man, always doing what your lil tribal chief tells you to do. It's like you have no spine or thoughts of your own."

Jey's anger reached its peak. He took a step forward, his body tensed like a coiled spring. "You think you know everything, don't you?" he said, his voice dripping with venom. "But you're just as controlling as I am. You always have to have your way, and when things don't go according to plan, you throw a tantrum like a damn child."

Jax's eyes narrowed, and she met his gaze head-on. "At least I admit it when I'm wrong," she shot back. "You just wallow in your own stubbornness and blame everyone else for your mistakes."

Jax took a deep breath, realizing that they were both getting nowhere with this argument. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm herself down. When she opened them again, she looked directly at Jey, her expression softening slightly.

"Look. I'm sorry," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I know we have our differences, but we need to work together for this engagement party. Can we just try to put our differences aside and make this work?"

Jey was taken aback by Jax's apology. He wasn't expecting her to back down so easily, but he could see the sincerity in her eyes.

He took a deep breath, letting go of some of his own anger. "I'm sorry too," he said, his voice softer now. "I shouldn't have let our past get in the way of our planning. Let's try to focus on making this engagement party a success."

Jax nodded, relieved that they had managed to reach a truce. "Good," she said, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Now, let's go over our ideas again, without all the yelling this time."

They sat down again, this time in a more relaxed atmosphere. Jey took out his notes and went over his ideas for the engagement party. He explained his vision for the decorations, the food, and the entertainment, with Jax listening intently.

To her surprise, Jey had put a lot of thought into the details and had even taken into account her preferences. She was touched by his effort to make the party special for Iris and Roman. But she damn sure wasn't going to admit it.

As Jey continued to share his ideas, Jax found herself nodding along, agreeing with many of his suggestions. She had to admit that he had a good eye for detail and had a great sense of what would make Iris and Roman happy.

She started to feel a sense of gratitude towards him, realizing that they could work well together when they put their minds to it.

"I have to say," Jax said after Jey finished speaking, "your plan is actually.. alright I guess. I think it will make for a wonderful engagement party."

Jey's face lit up with a mix of surprise and relief. "Really?" he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice. "You're okay with it?"

Jax smiled at him. "Yes, I am," she said firmly. "You've put a lot of thought into it, and it's clear that you want to make this day special for my sister and Roman. I trust your judgment on this one."

"But we are NOT serving waffle house" Jax added

Jey chuckled, remembering the heated argument they had about food earlier. "Aight, fine." he said with a nod. "We can skip the waffle house and find something else that's more upscale and appropriate for an engagement party."

"Look at you growing up." Jax teased in response.

Jey rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smirk at her teasing. "I've always been mature," he retorted playfully. "You just refuse to acknowledge it."

"Yeah yeah yeah. As if, Yeet-man." Jax couldn't hold back her chuckle.

Jey shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're literally insufferable."

Jax suddenly remembered the harsh words she had said earlier about Roman and how they had affected Jey. She knew she had crossed a line, and it was time to apologize again.

"Jey," she said, her voice sincere. "I want to apologize again for what I said earlier about Roman. It was uncalled for and I know it hurt you. I shouldn't have said it, and I'm sorry."

Jey's expression softened at Jax's apology. He had been hurt by her words, but he could tell that she was genuinely sorry.

"It's okay," he said quietly, his voice filled with a hint of vulnerability. "I know you didn't mean it. But you're right, Roman does push me around sometimes, and it can be frustrating."

Jax could see the frustration and pain in Jey's eyes as he spoke about Roman. She realized that there was a lot more going on beneath the surface than she had initially thought.

"You know," she said softly, "you deserve better than being treated like a puppet. You have your own strengths and talents, and you should be able to stand up for yourself more."

Jey nodded, his expression contemplative. "I know," he said, his voice laced with resignation. "But it's hard to break away from Roman's control. He's been in charge for so long, and it's just... easier to let him take the lead. Besides, it used to be much worse."

"I can't believe Iris is marrying into this soap opera" Jax said.

Jey chuckled wryly at her comment. "I know, right?" he said, shaking his head. "It's a real mess. But at the end of the day, I'm just happy that Roman has found love and happiness with Iris."

Jax nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm happy for them too," she said. "And even though Roman can be a bit... intense, I have to admit that he's been good for her. She's never been happier than when she's with him."

Jey leaned back in his chair, his eyes growing distant as he thought about Roman and Iris's relationship.

"Roman is... different with Iris," he said quietly. "He's more patient, more affectionate, more open. He treats her like a queen and dotes on her every need. It's almost as if he's a completely different person when he's with her. She makes him better."

Jax could see the affection in Jey's eyes as he spoke about Roman's relationship with Iris. It was clear that despite their differences, he cared deeply for his cousin.

"I've never seen him like this before," Jey continued, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Jax took a moment to think about what Jey had said before asking, "You know, you said that Roman's different with Iris. Do you think you'll ever have someone who brings out that side of you too?"

Jey looked down at his hands, a mix of emotions crossing his face. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I hope so. But I've never really been lucky in love."

Jax's heart ached at Jey's words. She had never seen him so vulnerable before. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, but she wasn't sure if he would welcome the gesture.

Jey could feel the silence growing heavier, and he looked up at Jax, a hint of sadness in his eyes. He was grateful that she hadn't offered any platitudes or empty reassurances, but at the same time, he was feeling more vulnerable than he had in a long time.

Jax could see the vulnerability in Jey's eyes and knew that he needed some space to process his emotions. She didn't want to make him feel more uncomfortable, so she decided to change the subject.

"So, we've got a lot of planning to do," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "Let's get back to it."

Jey nodded gratefully, glad for the change of subject. He quickly returned to the conversation about the engagement party, grateful to have something to focus on besides his own personal feelings.

"Right," he said, taking out his notes.

Prologue ●◉◎◈◎◉● Next Chapter

[seitmai]

As always many thoughts...

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters." "Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch.

Of course he wouldn't 😅

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something." "Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her. "They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

Hahah this whole conversation cracked me up 😂

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

Ok rude of Bradley, it was just a nice thought 🙄😒

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered." "Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

🥰🥰🥰

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner. "You're never fast! You like to linger!" "It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

Haha I can't with him

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

Of course he does 🤭

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. "I could always nurse you later if you want." "I take it you're interested in my offer." "Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off."

🤭🤭🤭

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

Oh no, she is too hard on herself 🥺

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel."

Oh don't act like a saint Jake, we all know you wanna marry her sooner rather than later an if Cat had a buch of trauma and needs time because of that, they would have been married already 😅

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Dad Jake 🥹🥰

Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Maybe maybe there is something else going on, hmm 🤭

"You look like a DILF."

He sure does 😌

"Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?" You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

Hahaha this is so Bradley 😅

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight. "You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

He just loves to be with his girls 🥰

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag.

🥰🥰🥰 

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

He is living his best life 😅

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away?

Yes, he absolutely 100% is

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

Oh oh this feels like trouble 😬🫣

Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.

"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.

"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.

"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."

"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."

Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."

"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.

"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."

He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."

"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."

"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."

"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"

"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."

"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."

Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."

You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"

When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"

Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."

-------------------------------

You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.

"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.

"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.

"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"

"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.

He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.

Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?" 

You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.

"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."

"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."

"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"

He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.

"You're never fast! You like to linger!"

"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered. 

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. 

"I could always nurse you later if you want."

When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.

"I take it you're interested in my offer."

"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."

-----------------------------

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."

"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."

"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.

"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."

Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."

Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.

"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."

"Why?"

Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."

"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!" 

"I mean..."

"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."

"I'll be forty soon."

"You're thirty-eight."

"That's almost forty."

"You look like a DILF."

He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.

"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"

"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."

Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.

"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."

"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"

You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.

"We're going to miss you." 

He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."

You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.

----------------------------------

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.

"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.

"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."

"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.

"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag. 

He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.

"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.

Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."

She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier. 

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.

When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.

"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.

He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around. 

Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

------------------------------

Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[voxofthevoid]

We continue to be in goyuuland with Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #10. Sukuna will pop back up in the next chapter, though I'm not sure what the next snippet will be.

The fic is now 90.5k, and I just finished Chapter 13—unlucky or not, it's my favorite chapter so far 😂

It's 9k total and just one big goyuu date, featuring 7 scenes that are basically Gojou flirting like a demon (hah) and Yuuji setting the new world record in obliviousness—until he can't, of course. This week's snippet is the final scene, and it's longer than these posts usually are because I didn't really feel like breaking it up.

Enjoy the extra 300 words?

“Nice house,” Gojou says, looking around the living room with unabashed interest. “You live with your parents?”

“No, my…guardian. He’s not here.”

“And he won’t mind you bringing home strange men?”

“Um.” Nanami will definitely mind, won’t he? Sure, he said Yuuji could bring friends around any time, but Gojou’s not exactly that. He’s not even a classmate. “It’s fine. Probably. I mean, you’re technically not a stranger anymore, and you know Tōji-san, so—yeah, it’ll be fine.”

Gojou chuckles. “If you say so. I promise not to steal his book collection.”

“Yeah, please don’t. Nanami will kill me.”

Gojou strides toward said book collection; he’s taller than the bookshelf. “I’m sure he’s more fond of you than these very dry books.”

“They’re not that bad!”

“Have you read any?”

“None of those, no,” Yuuji admits. “But I’m sure Nanami likes them for a reason.”

“What a cute little ward,” Gojou croons, turning around to look at Yuuji. “Nanami’s so lucky. Megumi wasn’t this nearly this sweet when he was in my custody.”

“…Fushiguro was in your custody?”

“For an entire year,” Gojou confirms. “His daddy earned himself a little time-out. I only obliged.”

“Huh.” Yuuji tries to picture Gojou taking care of Fushiguro—and fails. “Is that why Fushiguro doesn’t like you?

Gojou pouts. “Mean.”

“Uh, sorry, I just meant—”

“I know, I know.” Gojou waves a dismissive hand, before parking it on his hip. “Now, are you going to entertain me as promised, or are we going to stand here talking about other men all night?”

Yuuji gapes at him. “You’re the one who—never mind. Just wait here. I’ll go get the laptop. And change out of these clothes. There’s a bathroom over there too, if you wanna piss or something.”

“Charmer,” Gojou chortles, but he does walk over there.

Yuuji waits for him to vanish into the bathroom before heading upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. He strips the second he’s inside the bedroom, wincing at the grass stains on Nanami’s turtleneck. He rushes into the en suite and drapes it over the hamper so he’ll remember to wash it and return it to its rightful place.

Then he makes his way to the mirror.

The bruises on his throat are almost gone. There are still smears of red and purple, but it’s not the violent mess that was circling his entire throat when he woke up Saturday morning. The distinct imprint of long, wicked fingers is also gone.

Yuuji sighs in pure relief. He really doesn’t want to raid Nanami’s closet again. It’s so invasive.

Next time Sukuna goes for his throat, Yuuji will bite his fucking fingers off. They’ll grow back anyway.

He gives his back a perfunctory check before turning away. It’s all scabbed over, the shallower parts already healed. They pull on his skin a little, but Yuuji’s got plenty of practice ignoring that.

He does his business and risks a quick shower. He even brushes his teeth.

It’s a little ridiculous, It’s not like Gojou will be fresh or anything. He also spent the whole day just like Yuuji, walking under the sun and hiking through the forest. Still, the thought of sitting on the couch downstairs and watching his new favorite movie with Gojou makes him want to be clean. At least he doesn’t want to be all sticky and gross.

He won’t mind if Gojou smells a little though. Yuuji caught a few whiffs of his scent throughout the day. It was…nice. Some cologne, definitely, but just sweat and something else under that—something both sharp and sweet.

In the mirror, his face grows red.

Yuuji slaps his cheeks. “What the hell am I doing?”

He pulls on some of his own clothes and grabs his laptop before making his way back downstairs. He finds Gojou lying on the couch, that long body taking up the entire length of it and then spilling over, both feet and parts of the calves dangling over one side. Gojou’s got an arm folded under his head and the other holding his phone up. His mouth is one flat line.

“Hey,” Yuuji greets. “I’m back.”

“So you are.” The phone vanishes in a flick of the wrist, and Yuuji spends a good few seconds trying to figure out whether Gojou stashed it between his body and the couch or just slipped it up his sleeve like some wannabe magician. Then Gojou folds that arm under his head too, staring expectantly at Yuuji. “Go on. Entertain me.”

Yuuji rolls his eyes. “Yes, my lord.”

“He learns so fast,” Gojou simpers.

Yuuji ignores him, instead busying himself connecting the laptop to the TV.

“Done!” Yuuji declares. “I’ll go get some soda. Any flavor you like?”

“I’m a simple man,” Gojou says, his head tilted in Yuuji’s direction. “Give me some coke and I’ll be happy.”

“Comin’ right up!”

Gojou’s still stretched out supinely on the couch when Yuuji comes back with the drinks.

“Don’t have any popcorn,” Yuuji tells him, setting the cans down on the coffee table. “Got some chips though, if you’re hungry.”

“Mmm, not yet.”

“Yeah, same. I’ll make dinner after the movie then.”

“What a good host,” Gojou says, and unlike the things he said earlier, this doesn’t sound mocking or even teasing. “Do you like feeding people, Yuuji-kun?”

“Eh? Why would you ask that?”

“You cooked for us all yesterday, even though you were a guest in that house. And I had to practically fight you off for cooking rights in the morning, didn’t I?”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Now here you are again,” Gojou continues as if Yuuji didn’t speak, “trying to feed me. You can see why I’m curious.”

Yuuji rocks back on his heels, considering it. “Sure, I guess. It’s not a passion or anything, but I’m good at cooking, and I like it when people enjoy my food. That’s natural, isn’t it?”

“It is and it isn’t,” Gojou says agreeably. “But I do love a man who loves to please.”

Yuuji blinks. “Cool. C’mon then, let’s start.”

“Alright.”

Yuuji waits. Gojou doesn’t move.

“Gojou-san,” he says very patiently, “make room for me.”

Gojou looks down the length of his body, as if he doesn’t know it’s taking up the whole couch and then some. He unfolds his arms from under his head, plucking off his sunglasses—and tossing it at Yuuji.

“Woah!” Yuuji catches it, setting it carefully down on the coffee table. When he straightens up, Gojou’s still on his back, his arms now folded on his stomach; his eyes are heavy-lidded, like he’s about to take a nap. “Gojou-san.”

Gojou holds out an arm.

For a moment, Yuuji just stares incredulously at it. Then he sighs and marches over, grabbing the hand to pull Gojou up.

He’s pulled down.

Yuuji goes down hard, not even remotely prepared. He crashes into Gojou’s chest face-first, one hand still tangled with Gojou’s and the other planted on something firm but yielding. The shape is very…distinct.

He raises his burning face. “What are you—”

His voice withers in his throat at the expression on Gojou’s face. The lazy curve of his mouth, the low sweep of his lashes. And, worse, the eyes—all that blue grown dark and devouring.

Yuuji’s seen a near mirror of this expression on another face, broader and darker and red-eyed.

“Caught you,” Gojou murmurs.

The hand not clutching Yuuji’s coming to rest on the small of his back—on bare skin exposed by the sudden fall. Gojou doesn’t hesitate on finding skin instead of fabric. His hand creeps further up, blazing warmth along Yuuji’s spine.

Yuuji shudders violently, his fingers digging into Gojou’s chest—into the thick swell of a pec, its shape and size branding Yuuji’s fingers despite the sweater covering it.

Gojou doesn’t seem to mind. His smile grows wider, flashing a hint of canine. His eyes are still heavy and hot.

“Gojou-san,” Yuuji rasps, the name scraping his throat. Nothing else comes out.

“Yuuji-kun,” Gojou returns, almost as low and nowhere near as rough. “What should I do, now that I’ve caught you?”

His hands answer before Yuuji can, the one on his back creeping along his side to splay over his stomach, all fingers spread wide; the muscles there convulse so violently that Yuuji feels it in his spine—and his cock, hyperaware of how close that hand is to it. Gojou’s other hand extricates itself from Yuuji’s death grip to cup his face, the thumb resting on his lower lip.

Yuuji gets a lot of clues all at once, growing dizzy with it.

“You look scared,” Gojou says softly, and the shape of his mouth around those words isn’t mean, but it’s not kind either. “Don’t worry. I’ll be very gentle.”

Gentle—

“I won’t,” Yuuji gasps, frost burning through the fire in his veins. “I can’t—”

He only means to shove himself off Gojou, but his newly freed hand finds air instead of flesh or upholstery, and down he goes, the world flipping in a riot of color and motion.

The floor meets him gently.

Yuuji’s vision resolves into blue, then white, then an expression that’s blank-eyed scrutiny.

Gojou’s hand flexes under Yuuji’s head, still holding it a few centimeters off the floor. His other hand is under Yuuji’s back, keeping his hips lifted. His knees are parked between Yuuji’s awkwardly splayed legs.

He looks a light breeze away from collapsing on Yuuji.

Yuuji reaches up to grip those broad shoulders. Some of Gojou’s weight sinks into his bones.

Gojou blinks, for the first time since Yuuji opened his eyes.

He says, “You could’ve just said no.”

“…What?”

“I wouldn’t have forced you.”

“What—” It strikes Yuuji then, what his frantic attempt to get away must have looked like. “No, that’s not—I wasn’t—”

“It’s alright,” Gojou says mildly. “Let’s get you up.”

“Wait!”

Gojou waits. Maybe Yuuji doesn’t give him much of a choice, gripping his shoulders with all the strength he dares. If it hurts, Gojou doesn’t show it, but he does lay Yuuji’s head down, still cushioning it with a splayed palm.

“You said you’ll be gentle,” Yuuji hears himself say. “I won’t. I don’t know how.”

Gojou’s eyes widen, their blue a violently swirl around depthless pupils.

Yuuji almost wants to take it back. But he can’t. Gojou doesn’t deserve that.

Yuuji’s kissed people before Sukuna. It was clumsy and harmless. Gentle enough. But those memories feel like they belong to someone else. When Yuuji pictures putting his mouth on flesh, he’s always biting.

The rest of it is worse.

“Ah,” Gojou says quietly. “I understand.”

“I—” It comes out like a laugh, but Yuuji’s not laughing, he’s really not. “I don’t think you do.”

“Maybe.” Gojou dips his head, the tips of his hair brushing Yuuji’s forehead. Soft fire, burning and branding. “But I could.”

“Gojou-san…”

“Shall I teach you, Yuuji,” Gojou breathes, every word bursting open on Yuuji’s lips, “how to be gentle?”

[galvanizedfriend]

hii Yokan <3 How are you??

I was wondering how many people from Mystic Falls did you keep alive in TW4 !!! 👀👀 In TVD/TO, by the time Klaus was released, Enzo(💔), Stefan, and Tyler got killed. In addition, Elena woke up and took the cure with Damon.

Not that I really care about any of them (except my dad, aka Lorenzo St John), but I did notice that you mentioned Stefan visiting the girls during these 5 years, and after a worrisome amount of times I re-read that story, I got curious!

Is Enzo alive? Is Elena awake? Is Enzo alive? Is Tyler alive? Did Elena and Damon take the cure? Is Enzo alive? Did Alaric create the school, but in a different building? Is Enzo alive?

I remember you saying that, besides Alaric, someone from MFS will make an appearance, and i kinda want to know how much canon did you bring in to understand how much fucked up they are 😭😭😭 (my take was Bonnie as a "special guest", due to the whole Hollow thing, but I know you're a Klefan girl, so I wouldn't be too surprised if Stefan would be the one to show up)

love u, have a good day!

Hii, friend! 😊 Your messages are always so good 😂

So in my heart, and this might come up at some point in the story (I had a whole extra scene planned where they would talk about some of the things Klaus had missed out on in chapter 2, but then I deleted all the extras at the end of that chapter, starting with that scene I posted as an Outtake, because it wasn't vibing): Damon is the one who died to save the city or whatever, and Stefan is very much alive. Enzo is also alive because I can't forgive Stefan for killing him, so that never happened. Elena was heartbroken and in mourning for a while after waking up, but let's face it, she was always supposed to end up with Stefan anyway, so they are now both human and happily together (I think it hasn't been enough time for her to have finished Med School and be married with kids yet). The school does exist because Stefan gave it to Alaric on Damon's behalf (they were besties, after all) when he was looking for a place. It's not Jo's and Alaric's school for gifted kids or whatever the hell that's called (Jo is also alive, if you remember from TW2, because Mikaelsons were present while Kai was wreaking havoc). Tyler is dead, Damon still killed him (fuck Tyler tbh). As for the special guest, I could keep the mystery, but the truth is I think I've already mentioned this a few times? It's Bonnie. She will play a part in the resolution at the end of the season. I could bring Stefan back as well, but in this context it doesn't really make much of a difference because Klaus is a happily married man 😂 There is nothing for Stefan here. I think that answers yours questions? Let me know if I missed anything 😂 Thanks for the ask, friend! Have a wonderful week!

[nyerusnova]

the weird part about shipping comic book couples is that you generally don't want your faves to "become canon" because it's like... you really do not want your OTP(s) in the hands of comic book writers lmao.... they will not do your faves any justice and then in a few months/years there will be an overdramatic break-up or worse and it'll be a mess one way or another

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature Asher 🥰. He's such a good boy!

That four legged fur baby was such a joy to read about when he took note of his mum as she internally battered herself 😩.

Lucy watched Tommy where he was perched on the arm of a couch and talking to Lizzie, feeling her heart squeeze painfully, quickly looking away. Urghh I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! It was ok in canon because there was no one else. But in this story, which honestly feels more realistic than the canon series 😍, I couldn't stand the image of this. It's just heartbreaking. I get increasingly pissed of at Tommy when he even talks to Lizzie lol. I know it's just a messy situation, and not really his fault, but it hurts me to see Lucy this way. I'm waiting for the day he experiences the same feelings of insecurities, jealousy and heartbreak as she does right now, Lilly! You gotta give us a jealous, moody Tommy to compensate for the the torment you're putting our dear Lucy through 😂.

She sat up a little when the room quieted so that Tommy and Arthur could each make toasts. At Tommy’s comment of being in a happier place, paired with a quick glance towards Lizzie, she swallowed painfully. Oof no, fuck that 😩! Arthur should never make speeches, look what happens when he does 😭.

I'm glad Lizzie is making an effort, and I thought it quite sweet how she approached them with a deck of cards to play a game. But her attitude always has me on edge as much as it has Lucy on edge. I feel like she could completely change her tune at any minute and start making her passive aggressive remarks again. Hmmm, I hope they both stay on their toes with her, and I REALLY hope, Tommy doesn't begin to underestimate her pettiness.

No, treacle, I didn’t know they took ya. If I did, I…” his eyes moved to the bandages that poked out from under the hem of her shirt. “That wouldn’t have happened. Ahhh I love how he talks to her 😩❤️. Which only makes this scene even more upsetting for Lucy. Although I don't know much about their relationship, it's clear that their genuine friends that care deeply about the other. But the famous line from the Godfather "it's not personal, it's just business" feels appropriate in this scene.

“We have to go back for the fucking dog.” Tommy heaved. - “We should take the dog,” Lucy spoke at the same time. They shared a look, then a small nod of agreement, and turned around to gather up Cyril’s lead and wrangle him with them towards the car. I love that you added this part, because this is exactly what I imagined happened. I would bet money on Tommy just coming to a stop with a huffy "fuck", knowing he's gotta go and get the dog 😂. Just one more animal to their growing zoo 🤭!

They’d both been drinking more. And his stash of opium for the pipe that they sometimes shared, usually enough to last nearly half the year, was already almost depleted. Most nights one or both of them woke up screaming. Ahh, loving the shared despair! And how they both were mutually going through the horrors, spiralling down together. It feels very intune to their whole relationship and their codependency. When one falls, the other rapidly falls after them. Even though it was a powerful scene to read, i think it was the fact that little Charlie saw his parents in this way that ultimately had them stop. They love that boy so much, enough to force themselves out of the pits.

The smut scene was so beautifully written. I'm honestly relieved they've been able to get back to that point where she feels comfortable enough to be intimate with him. They're both so passionate, so obsessed with the other that It would almost feel unnatural to not read about them in this way.

“Lucy, do you remember when you asked me if I’d ever thought about entering politics?” ahh shit, here we go 🤦🏼‍♀️😂. This line reminded of the scene with Freddie and Ada when she says about the moment his balls are empty it's back to politics 😅. Freddie and Tommy are more alike than they'll ever admit! But the problem with this line means...a tonne load more of problems are coming there way. One of the biggest, Tommy's marriage to Lizzie 😬.

Amazing chapter, hun! Can't wait to catch up on the latest one you posted as soon as possible 😍.

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: The vendetta may be over, but peace is still but a distant dream for both of them. 

Word Count: 5,769

Notes: Warnings for depictions of trauma, chronic pain, insecurity, smut, and references to torture and pregnancy.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 28: Scarlet Fog

She sat huddled in a corner, watching the celebrations occurring around her as distantly as if she was looking in through the window. She supposed, in a way, that she might as well have been. No one had really paid her any attention throughout the entire gathering.

They were all assembled in one of the big sitting rooms in Arrow House, drinking and chatting and laughing. Lucy watched Tommy where he was perched on the arm of a couch and talking to Lizzie, feeling her heart squeeze painfully, quickly looking away. 

She would have to get used to that: seeing them together. Side by side as their own little unit while she was pushed aside.  

At least Tommy finally seemed happy again.

How horrible did it make her, that she found herself half longing for the time when it had just been her, him, and Charlie?

Of course she did not want Tommy to be miserable. Of course she did not want him and his family to be estranged. Things were better this way, of course they were. She could take it; feeling like she was an outsider encroaching where she was not wanted. Like she was not as valued. Not loved. She’d done it before, prior to the schism between him and the rest of the Shelbys. She could do it again. 

At her feet, as if sensing her thoughts, Asher whined, raising his head. She gave him a tiny smile, reaching out to scratch him behind the ear. His tail thumped against the rug, looking up at her as if to say, I still love you, Mommy.

He’d been glued to her side since they came home, protective on account of her still healing injuries. She was grateful for his presence and companionship. Being alone had gotten a lot harder than it had been previously. 

She supposed she would have to get used to it just being her and the animals for stretches of time. Moments spent alone with Tommy would get even rarer after Lizzie’s baby arrived. Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if she would see much of him at all. 

She sat up a little when the room quieted so that Tommy and Arthur could each make toasts. At Tommy’s comment of being in a happier place, paired with a quick glance towards Lizzie, she swallowed painfully, trying hard not to read too much into the look, and failing miserably. 

Surely it had to be coming soon. The inevitable. When Tommy sat her down and gently told her to pack her things. That he could no longer be with her. Because he loved someone else. And that someone else had demanded he chose between them. And of course he was going to choose the one he was already having a baby with. Who was loved by his family. Who wasn’t broken beyond repair. Who he could actually have a chance at a happy future with. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Asher nudged at her knee with his nose, trying to draw her attention away from the ache in her heart. With stilted movements, she reached down to stroke his soft black fur. 

Next was Arthur’s toast. A dreaded look crossed Tommy’s face at his brother’s insistence that he take a holiday. The expression only deepened when Arthur raised his glass to peace. Lucy wondered if Tommy was thinking the exact same thing that she was: there would be no peace for them. Not now; not ever. Not with the things that lived eternally inside their heads. 

Once the toasts were done, everyone began slowly making their way towards the doors leading into the dining room. Lucy made no move to follow them, just shrinking tighter in on herself in her little corner whenever someone wandered past her. 

“Lucy?”

At the sound of Tommy’s voice, closer to her than she’d expected–she had figured he’d just head straight into the dining room with Lizzie–she looked up. Those blue eyes of his were fixed on her questioningly, shuffling a little closer to her while everyone else drew further away towards the other room. Tommy cocked his head. 

“Are you coming?”

Drawing in a shaky breath, she shook her head. Fingers still carding mindlessly through Asher’s fur, trying to focus on the soft pelt to keep herself grounded. “I’m not hungry.”

Tommy sank down into the vacant spot next to her on the couch. “Are you in pain?”

“No. I’m just tired.” Only half the truth. Her cuts and shoulders were starting to ache a little.

He frowned, one hand moving to rest on the cushions behind her back. “You’ve barely eaten since we got back, sweetheart.” When she didn’t say anything, he scooted closer to her. “You need to eat.”

“I’m fine.” Eager to change the topic, she swirled the remainder of whiskey in her glass before downing it, mind fishing for something else to talk about. “What did Lizzie have to say?”

“Nothing all that interesting. Just some things about a few renovations that she wants to make to her house.” She could feel Tommy’s worried eyes still fixed intently on her. 

“This’ll be the first holiday you’ve taken in awhile. What do you think you’ll do?”

“I don’t know.”

Her gaze drew back to Lizzie where she was standing by the doorway, smiling and chatting animatedly with Polly. She’d been nicer to her since the kidnapping, but Lucy couldn’t help but feel a constant level of tension when around her, waiting at any moment for her to have said or done the wrong thing that would cause Lizzie to snap at her. “You should use it to spend time with her. Could even move into her house for a little while.” She looked down at her empty glass, in desperate need of a refill. “Be there for all the big moments in the pregnancy and everything.”

“And leave you here all alone?” Tommy asked. The worry she’d sensed in his gaze had leaked into his voice.

“I’d survive.” A lie, she was pretty sure, but he didn’t need to be burdened with that. 

“You’re still healing.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

“I know, but…I don’t want to leave you by yourself. If I have to take a bloody holiday, I’d rather spend it with you.”

Sighing, she kept her gaze glued to the floor until Tommy’s hand forced her head up, his icy blue eyes boring into hers, trying to read her mind. 

“I am not leaving you alone.”

“But you should–”

“Fuck what I should do!” His throat flexed, eyes darting towards the doorway to make sure no one had heard him. Drawing in a deep breath to steady himself, he looked at her, jaw set in that stubborn way she knew meant she’d have better luck picking up an entire mountain than getting him to change his mind. “I’m not leaving your side. End of discussion.”

Shaky sigh leaving her lips, Lucy nodded defeatedly. The back of Tommy’s hand stroked over her cheek. The rest of the family had wandered out the doorway, leaving them alone. 

“Please come to dinner.”

“No one wants me there anyway–”

“I do.”

For some reason, that made her feel like she was about to cry, leaning closer to his side unconsciously. When his fingers ran delicately through her hair, she closed her eyes. “Promise me you aren’t just saying that because you feel sorry for me.”

His fingers tightened a fraction where they’d come to rest on her shoulder. “I promise.” He turned her face to look at him. “I swear it on my mother’s grave. I want you with me always. Eh? Every second of every day.”

She closed her eyes, leaning into him, letting the words soothe her and abate the raging insecurities inside her. Even if only for a moment. 

“Come on,” his lips moved against the top of her head as he kissed her forehead. “Please don’t make me face them all alone.” His chin shifted against her head, cheek laying against her hair. She huffed out a tired, breathless laugh against his chest. 

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely.” 

He took hold of both her hands with a small smile, helping her to her feet and entwining their fingers as they began to follow the route that the rest of the family had taken out of the sitting room and into the dining area. Asher padded along beside them, his ears twitching every once in a while as he remained watchful and protective in demeanor. 

Tommy helped her into her seat next to him at the table, his ankle hooking around hers, the toe of his shoe every once in a while rubbing up and down along her shin whenever she started to get anxious.

Once the meal was over and everyone retired into the drawing room, she wound up seated on a couch with Tommy’s arm around her, her head resting lazily on his shoulder, trying not to doze off despite how tired she was. Lizzie eventually approached them timidly with a deck of cards, shyly proposing that they all play, and soon enough they had a lively game going amongst themselves and several family members. 

For a little while, she thought that things might actually get better. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy quietly lamented the fact that she’d probably be picking little granules out of her socks on the drive back home as her boots sank into the sand. Overheard a seagull squawked, riding the cool wind that rushed over the beach. Waves roiled and crashed against the shore, lapping across the sand until they almost kissed the toe of her shoes. The sand where they were standing was damp, hardened over with moisture more so than the soft, dry mounds they’d had to traverse to approach the figure already standing on the otherwise abandoned beach when they arrived.

He was just looking out over the expanse of the waves, a huge bullmastiff seated next to him, his lead clutched in Alfie’s hand.

Lucy stared at her friend, confliction weighing heavily inside her. Despite everything, she still considered Alfie an important figure in her life. He’d helped to save her, a long, long time ago. And his position as an ally to the gang had brought with it significant advantages. But perhaps most importantly, she liked him. He was fun, and deep down she really did believe that he cared for her and Tommy. 

Just not enough to stop him from betraying them when the price was right. 

“Alfie, did you know that they took me?” she asked, voice hoarse. The salty wind whipped at strands of her hair, leaving them to dance around her face. Alfie, who until that moment had hardly turned his head to look at them, finally glanced over at her. 

“No, treacle, I didn’t know they took ya. If I did, I…” his eyes moved to the bandages that poked out from under the hem of her shirt. “That wouldn’t have happened.” He said, looking at her regretfully before turning back to stare at the rolling waves. Lucy swallowed painfully at the truth in his voice, a little of the weight lifting from her shoulders at knowing that her friend had, at the very least, not been involved in the horrors that had been enacted upon her. 

He and Tommy talked for a while more. Well, Alfie talked, Tommy mostly just listened, and then Tommy pulled out his gun from inside his coat. Lucy turned away, face contracting, unable to watch. 

The pieces fell into place at Alfie's revelation of his cancer diagnosis. So he’d wanted them to kill him, then. Or maybe he was just saying it so they wouldn’t feel so bad after it was done.   

She was still angled away from Alfie when he turned sharply on Tommy with his own gun, so she had no warning when a bullet suddenly skimmed across Tommy’s side. Tommy pulled the trigger of his own weapon on instinct, and a sizable chunk of Alfie’s face was blown off. Both men collapsed backwards onto the sand. 

“Tommy!” Lucy lurched towards him, ignoring the way that the sudden movement pulled on her stitches. Her knees hit the sand, trousers growing damp from the moisture as she knelt at Tommy’s side, hands hovering over his torso. He groaned softly, legs kicking in the sand, damp granules sticking to the side he’d fallen on. 

“I’m alright,” he mumbled, hand going to his side. Blood stained his palm when he drew it away. “I’m alright, it just grazed me.”

Lucy glanced over her shoulder at where Alfie laid on his back, unmoving. Cyril was whining softly in distress, nosing at Alfie’s face. 

“I think he’s dead,” she said softly, not wanting to go over and actually check. Tommy swiped a hand down his face, gripping her hand to let her help pull him from the ground. She eyed his side worriedly. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He drew his coat in tighter around himself, suddenly looking very small and fragile. “I’m fine,” but his voice was anything but, rough and rasping in his throat. He took one look at Alfie’s body and cringed away, arms squeezing tighter around himself. Lucy watched as his head bowed, sorrow etching onto his features. For a second she thought that he was going to cry. “Come on.” With a jerk of his head, he gestured for them to head back towards where they’d parked the car. 

Shuffling to follow him, she curled close to his side, the pair of them beginning to slow trek off of the beach. The lump in her throat kept building every time she looked back at the figure splayed out in the sand. A few sniffles left her, and she hastily wiped her nose on her sleeve.  

“He fired to force you to shoot him,” she noted quietly as they walked. With how close they’d been, there was no way that Alfie would have missed his shot like that if he’d actually wanted to cause Tommy legitimate harm. 

“Yes.”

She tightened her arms around his bicep, cheek squishing against the soft material of his coat as she sought refuge from the chilly air against him.  

They got about halfway down the beach before they both stopped at the same time. 

“We have to go back for the fucking dog.” Tommy heaved. 

“We should take the dog,” Lucy spoke at the same time. They shared a look, then a small nod of agreement, and turned around to gather up Cyril’s lead and wrangle him with them towards the car.  

∗ ∗ ∗

Three months passed. 

Lucy healed slowly, the scabs of her injuries scarring over into rough, pale bumps on her otherwise smooth skin.

Tommy knew that she was horribly self conscious of them. Really, he was pretty sure that she thought them far worse than they actually were. She was still beautiful to him, even if the sight of the criss-crossed marks all over her back triggered sorrow and guilt to wash over him at the reminder of the pain she’d gone through.  

Slowly, she was able to do more. The stitches were removed and the bandages came off. Her shoulders were still giving her trouble, but according to the doctor, that would always be the case. He tried his best to help her, giving her massages and bringing her ice packs on the days that the pain was particularly bad. Applying salves that Polly sent over to help relax and soothe the muscles. By all accounts, she was considered healed. At least physically. 

And yet she was worrying him. Hell, he was worrying him. 

Golf. Fishing. Both were things he’d heard that other men liked to do on holiday, but he only got to the sixth hole at the golf course before throwing his club across the green field, not out of frustration, but from sheer boredom. The entire game was so…useless. Lucy had raised her eyebrows at him from where she was leaning against the little green plaque that displayed the hole number. 

“You know you’re supposed to hit the ball with the club, right?” she’d asked. Tommy shook his head, yanking out a few notes to pass to the caddy carrying his clubs. 

“We’re going home,” he mumbled, draping his arm around her as they started the walk to the car. “This is ridiculous.”

Fishing hadn’t fared much better. They’d been sitting by the bank, Lucy leaning into his side, eyes staring numbly out at the pond. For a second, the world was quiet and peaceful. 

But the silence only made things worse. There was no sound to drown out the noises in his head. The horses and gunshots; the screams of men dying around him. 

An explosion suddenly boomed around them, and he dove to the ground, taking Lucy with him as he sent them both crashing half into the pond in an attempt to use the bank as a source of cover against enemy fire. One of his hands curled over his head while his body pressed hers to the ground, attempting to shield her from the perceived danger. It wasn’t until more sounds–gunshots, not explosions like he’d originally thought–and the barking of hounds, erupted nearby that he realized it was simply a hunting party passing by, and not the war returned with the intention of swallowing him whole. 

“Tommy?” Lucy asked, voice quiet. She had grabbed onto the front of his shirt in surprise, her eyes wide. 

“Shit.” He leaned off of her, water sloshing around his legs, damp grass and dirt clinging to his arms where he’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “Sorry.” He couldn’t quite meet her gaze, embarrassment burning its way across his cheeks.

“It’s okay.” She made no move to pull away, despite now standing nearly up to her waist in water thanks to him. Her head cocked a little when he flinched at another echoing crack of gunfire from the hunters. But she didn’t say anything, just reached out to flatten her palm on his chest. “Sweetheart?”

He finally snapped his head around to look at her. Fear suddenly seized at him as he processed how he’d practically grabbed and thrown her into the pond with him. “Fuck, did I hurt you?”

“What? No,” she shook her head. “I mean…my socks are wet now, but other than that, I’m fine.”

He’d helped her up out of the water, and quickly gathered together the fishing gear so they could head home. The fish weren’t biting anyway, and he didn’t want her sitting around in wet socks and trousers and catching a cold.  

They arrived home to find dinner ready for them at the table after they’d changed into dry clothes. Not that either of them touched most of it.  

Lucy had gotten almost as bad as him about eating. Where she once almost always cleaned her plate, she now often left it three fourths of the way full before pushing it away. And that was on the days that he was able to convince her to eat at all. Her body weight had dive bombed. She was even smaller than usual; so skinny it scared him a little. 

He could feel Frances watching them worriedly from the doorway, hands clasped together, lips set in a firm frown that only deepened when they both rose from the table and went into the drawing room to finish off their evening with two large bottles of whiskey and gin shared between them. 

They’d both been drinking more. And his stash of opium for the pipe that they sometimes shared, usually enough to last nearly half the year, was already almost depleted. Most nights one or both of them woke up screaming. He’d lost count of how many times he’d cradled her in his arms, rocking her gently against his chest, stroking her hair until she finally calmed enough to fall back into a fitful slumber. 

She’d draw him into bed to make love, only to push him away a few moments later, sobbing and burying her face in her hands. The phone would ring, but they never answered it. Even during the middle of the day, they kept the curtains drawn, the lights dimmed. Everything was easier in the dark.

They drank, and cried, and held each other, and drank some more. The cycle repeating over and over. He knew that they were both spiraling downwards into a deep dark well. But he did not know how to pull them out of it. 

Ultimately, it was not really him who gave the push for something to be done about things. It was Charlie. 

He was sprawled out on the floor, so drunk he was almost going cross eyed. Glass, from the objects he’d knocked to the floor during his tumble, had sliced into his palms, blood running in thin rivers down his hands. Lucy was kneeling beside him, reaching out to try to get a look at where he’d cut himself. Despite her movements being as uncoordinated as his thanks to her equally drunken state. Her makeup was a smudged mess around her eyes, black smears trailing down her cheeks from when she’d been crying earlier. 

The door creaked open, and Charlie peeked his little head in, and their eyes met. A look, not of sorrow or confusion, but complete, all encompassing disappointment crossed his little boy’s features as he took in the image sprawled out before him. Tommy swore that there was a hint of contempt in there as well.

“Charlie,” he choked out, trying–and failing–to scramble to his feet. Lucy’s head snapped around to fix on the boy, who was quickly ushered out by one of the maids. The door closed between them with a sharp, final click. 

Tommy managed to finally heave himself to his feat, injured arms crossed around his middle. Shame, hot and violent, bowled into him, and he folded at the waist, face collapsing in on itself as tears rushed into his eyes and began to stream down his cheeks. 

Never, never had he wanted Charlie to see them like this. But now he had, and that was something that would never be able to be undone. 

“Tommy,” Lucy pulled him into her arms, letting him bury himself in her chest while he mentally collapsed almost entirely on himself. Her fingers petted at the nape of his neck and down his back, trying to soothe him as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed against her. 

The next day, he called Polly.  

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy retreated to bed when Polly came over in the evening, mumbling something about being tired. Tommy didn’t try to stop her. She still felt so fragile, he was worried that if Polly took any of her usual swipes at her, it would cause her to only crumble further in on herself. So he’d just sent her off with a gentle kiss and a promise that he’d join her as soon as he could, watching to make sure that Asher followed her as she climbed the stairs.  

“Lizzie wants to see you,” Polly informed him not long after they sat down. Tommy’s stomach roiled with nausea, quickly looking away. 

“No.”

“Tom, she’s showing,” Polly tried again, but that just made the sick feeling in his stomach surge. The mental image of Lizzie’s belly protruding as his baby grew inside her elicited nothing in him but dread. The idea of having another child was completely overwhelming, and he was often struck with constant worry at how it would affect Lucy once the baby finally came and he would have no choice but to spend more time with Lizzie.  

He’d spent an awful lot of energy these past few months actively not thinking about Lizzie and the baby that would arrive in but a few short months' time. But Lucy…he had a feeling that Lucy spent far too much time thinking about them. She’d said some things, whispered mumbles while she was drunk, that made little sense to him. Things about how he should leave her. That she was bringing him nothing but unhappiness. How he could be happy with Lizzie if he just gave her a chance. He didn’t know if she was aware of the things she was saying, or if she even remembered uttering them after she’d sobered up. No matter how much he tried to soothe or contradict her statements, she always circled back to them. It was like an infection that was not actually getting cured, the symptoms only battered back for a little while by his reassurances before flaring up once again. He did not know how to entirely eradicate the insecurities brewing inside her.

“I don’t want to see Lizzie, Pol.” He looked down, ashamed at the words despite their truthfulness. He felt her looking him over, examining his reaction carefully. Ultimately realizing that now was not a good time to push the subject any further. 

“How’s Lucy?”

That got him to look up, brow lifting. “Since when do you care?”

Polly shifted awkwardly in her seat, it being her turn to look away. Tommy frowned, the almost apologetic look on Polly’s face uncharacteristic, especially when it came to anything involving Lucy. 

“Pol?”

 “Aberama says that I’ve been too hard on her,” Polly sighed. Tommy blinked, too stunned to speak for a moment. 

“You been talking with Aberama a lot lately?” he finally asked. Polly shrugged, squirming in place, clearly uncomfortable, looking for a way to dodge the question.

“How is she?” 

He wetted his lips, fingers twitching around his cigarette. “Not good.”

“Francis said that she isn’t eating.”

“I can count her ribs with my hands when I hold her.” He mumbled, glancing at the drawn curtains that hide the outside world from view. 

“After what Luca did to her, I can’t say that I’m surprised that she’s broken down. Took you right down along with her.”

He bristled. “It’s not her fault–”

“That’s not what I mean,” Polly shook her head. “What I mean is that, if she hadn’t fallen into the dark abyss, she would have been able to keep you from spiraling as well. Like she has before. You’re right. It’s not her fault. It was just shit timing, is all.”

“I don’t know how to pull her out of it, Pol.”

Polly fiddled with her fingers. “I think it’s time you both came back to work. Rattling around idly in here is clearly helping no one. Having something to focus your minds on will help.”

He nodded slowly, heaving out a breath. Polly stayed to talk for a little while longer, offering a few more sage words of advice before gathering up her things and leaving. After she was gone, Tommy spent a long stretch of time sitting and staring at nothing, the cogs in his head starting to slowly spin. 

Jamming his cigarette into the ashtray, he stood, making his way to the stairs and towards the bedroom that he shared with Lucy. 

She was already curled up under the covers, on her side with her hands pressed flat onto the pillow and her cheek resting atop them. Asher was laying in his dog bed in the corner, his big head on his paws, eyes watching them worriedly. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Tommy reached out a hand to rub across Lucy’s forearm. Her eyes opened slowly, head cocking against the pillows.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he moved his hand to stroke her face.

“How did it go?”

“Fine. She thinks we ought to go back to work.”

“Mm,” Lucy sat up slightly. “Probably not the worst idea.” 

“Mhm,” he moved his hand to play with her fingers, tracing the places where she’d picked a layer of skin away while nervously fidgeting. The nervous habit had thankfully mostly ceased since they’d gotten her a replacement set of rings for the ones Luca had taken from her. It was not until Tommy had first noticed the little scabs on her fingers that he realized the importance of her having something physical to busy her hands with. Otherwise she started picking at herself.

“You’re scaring me, love,” he said, doing his best to keep his tone gentle and non-accusatory. And yet still Lucy’s lower lip started to tremble, tears filling her eyes. 

“I know,” she whispered. “I know; I’m sorry. I…” her chest rose and fell deeply with her breaths. “I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault,” his fingers curled loosely around her wrist. “We’ve both fallen apart these past few months.” He looked at her regretfully. “I’ve done a shit job at taking care of you.”

Lucy frowned, sitting up fully, reaching out to cup the side of his face. “That’s not true. You’ve kept me alive.”

“I think that’s the very definition of the bare minimum, love.”

She shook her head. “With where my mind has been at sometimes, Tommy, it’s no small thing that you’ve managed.”

He let her words sink in, both hands raising to take her face between his palms. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She gave him a weak, not wholly convinced smile, and he kissed her insistently. 

“I mean it. I love you.” Forehead laying on hers, he breathed in the scent of rose perfume that lingered on her skin. “We’ll get through this.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, angling her head up to kiss him again. Tommy trailed his hands carefully down her body, skimming them along the curves of her breasts, lowering to loosely hold her waist.

They’d had sex since the doctor deemed her fully healed. But he still felt the need to handle her as gently as possible; too worried about accidentally hurting her. The first time, he’d spent over an hour worshiping her body, placing kisses to each and every one of her scars, taking his time to make it clear that he still found her as heart-stopping beautiful as he did the first day that he saw her.  

He took the same care now, delicately undoing the ties on her nightgown and sliding it off of her shoulders, lips pressing into her soft skin, following the raised lines of her scars. A groan left his throat when her fingertips sank into his hair, massaging his scalp when he dropped his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth.

That grip on his hair only tightened deliciously as he advanced lower, laying her down on the bed and spreading her legs so that he could lay between them, nosing at her cunt, breathing in her delectable scent before leaning forward to swipe his tongue across her clit. 

Her sounds were so pretty as he ate her out, the hand in his hair helping to steer him to where she needed him most. Watching her through his lashes, Tommy had to stifle a smirk at the way her head fell back against the pillows when he sank a finger into her, crooking it so he was rubbing right up against the spot that made her moans go up a pitch. 

When she came on his mouth, he grabbed greedily at her thighs, lips parting in an attempt to drink her all in, begging for everything she had to offer him. 

“Fuck, come here,” she half pleaded when he raised up on his arms above her, reaching out to drag him closer, slotting their mouths together with her release still clinging to his lips. Her hands pulled at his clothes, his own moving eagerly to help her to remove them, covering her body with his once he was bare. 

“Ready?” he asked, hand wrapping loosely around his engorged cock, giving himself a few pumps before lining up. 

“Yes. Yes,” she chanted, arms winding around his neck. He entered her slowly, watching her face carefully for any sign of discomfort while he pushed forward. The warm embrace of her cunt remained to be like nothing else he’d ever experienced before, her walls hugging around him, so tight and perfect there was to be no doubt that they’d been made for each other. 

The combined sounds of their pleasure echoed throughout the room as they started to move. Lucy’s head tipped forward, burying in his neck, her soft lips brushing against the sensitive skin. His eyes rolled in his head everytime she squeezed around him, and he slipped an arm under her to rest between her shoulder blades while he rocked into her steadily. He kept his thrusts at an even, gentle pace, taking care to go slow with her. She knew that she could stop him at any time if she needed, and no matter how lost he may have been in his own pleasure, he always took care to be mindful of her reactions to his movements, on alert for any indications of pain, discomfort, or fear. 

“Tommy–” her nails scratched at his shoulder, not enough to break the skin, but just enough to sting. His hissed at the contact, the idea of being marked by her sending a thrill through him that had his cock twitching inside her. 

“Just like that,” she whispered when his tip brushed against her g-spot. “Just like that; don’t stop.”

He grunted deeply, doing as instructed, feeling a surge in his balls as his own release drew nearer. Slotting a hand between them, he started to work on her clit again, rubbing it in small circles carefully timed with his deep thrusts. Her walls squeezed around him, even tighter than before, and he had to grit his teeth and focus hard to keep from coming prematurely.

With a cry and a tightening of her legs around his waist, Lucy came, a hand at the back of his head guiding him in for another kiss while she squeezed and gushed around his sensitive cock. Tommy moaned into her mouth, following her right over the cliff, stilling as he came deeply into her. His mouth continued to work, kissing her slowly and sensually as they rode out their climaxes and steadily started to come down.        

After, when they were laying together in the dark, Lucy in his arms with her head on his chest and her fingers tracing the lines of the tattoo of her name that he had emblazoned on his forearm, he began to tell her of the new plan that had started to take shape within his mind. 

“Lucy, do you remember when you asked me if I’d ever thought about entering politics?”

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[starflungwaddledee]

some rather strong first impressions were made.

required reading for the magical "voice" headcanon and another for starstruck's signature in particular. asked by @trainerbob23 !

[ukor02]

Ok bitches listen up. I need at least *one* Hazbin Hotel writer to do this scenario

Reader is a hellborn(idc what species except for hellhound because this is my request fuck off) and homeless and she got knocked up and baby daddy ditched so Charlie being the angel she is offers reader a room.

Fast forward to episode 5 (whoever starts this feel free to do the whole series but this is mainly focusing on ep 5(OMG WHAT IF READER GOES INTO LABOR DURING THE FINAL BATTLE IN EPISODE 8 FHUXHEHDJ. Chille anyways-)) and the reader is ready to pop any day now. Charlie is introducing the hotel residents to Lucifer and they get to reader and he's just wanting to touch the belly and looking at it with almost child like wonder lookin like this emoji: 🥺

Normal hotel shenanigans ensue. Thanks for coming to my TED talk UwU

[jamietwat]

Jamie and Roy spending ridiculous amounts of time together and Phoebe knowing about it definitely means that Jamie’s around Phoebe a lot more in the off-season when she’s off school and Roy’s off work but still being Jamie’s personal trainer for free (and she definitely likes bossing Jamie around just as much as Roy does and finds the ridiculous shit Roy makes him do hilarious)

And you know that thing where kids love to randomly go watch this, I can do a somersault or want to see me do a cartwheel? and then you just have to awkwardly stand there and be like wow whether they actually can do them or not (and sometimes several times in a row have to try to think of something new to say the fifth time they do the exact same thing and then look to you for a reaction)

I’m just saying at some point they’re in some park and Phoebe definitely pulls a look how good I’m getting at cart wheels, Uncle Roy! around Jamie at some point and while Roy just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ and gives compliments that gradually get more and more deadpan and debates turning it into saying how much more impressive that is than anything Jamie’s done all morning but he doesn’t because he’s 90% sure that would just lead to Jamie getting all indignant and competitive and proving he can cartwheel too as if Roy isn’t already annoyingly aware of that from when he was dying trying to keep up with Jamie in Amsterdam while he was cartwheeling and practically skipping

But obviously Roy not saying anything doesn’t matter anyway and Jamie turns it into being like watch this to Phoebe and cartwheeling too and turning to Roy after like well go on, tell me how good I am at that too

Roy deadpans somehow it’s far less impressive watching a grown man cartwheel for attention. It’s just sad, really

But Jamie isn’t offended at all and just shoots Roy an obnoxious smirk and insists you’re just saying that because you know you couldn’t do one. Even trying would probably end with you needing a hip replacement or something

But before Roy can even properly argue or say something bitchy back, Jamie’s turning back to Phoebe with a how about this then? But even though it’s her he asks, it’s Roy he looks to the moment he finishes running a few steps and doing a one-handed cartwheel

And Jamie’s like well now are you impressed??? And god, Roy resents that he is and he could make a dig about how useless of a skill it was as an adult and how that wouldn’t accomplish anything on the pitch and he’d just look like one of the kids that picks flowers on the pitch instead of playing or even paying attention to where the ball is, but instead he rolls his eyes and says yeah okay

And Jamie beams but he doesn’t have time to properly gloat and give Roy shit because Phoebe’s already bossing him around telling him that he has to teach her how to do that too

[cashweasel]

Your honor the kids are flirting with their eyes!

@night-triumphantt

[radarsteddybear]

Ok, Hogan's Heroes fandom, I've got a question for you: if you were introducing someone to the show for the very first time, which episode would you start with? For bonus points, also tell me WHY you choose that episode.

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I've started to ascribe emotional and intellectual meaning to the prayers we say in shul, so now I can properly beseech g-d when I pray with everyone else

And I've got to say, there's something really special about it. I recommend beseeching Him as often as possible

[shadowingfas]

85 pulls

I have pulled 85 times since getting aventurine, maybe more and nothing....

no 5 star

no robin

no topaz

nothing.

[silusvesuius]

g*lmar rly has to be the best skajrim character on the real like even if you don't like him he just is . literally The best one i think......... on dat note i also imagine that he and ulfr*c despite being fairydust BFFs for lyfe genuinely have the worst communication skills ever seen

[pickled-flowers]

Yesterday at work 3 kids came to my cash register and bought some slime candy, overall a very pleasant interaction they were very polite. An hour later they came back and gave me a chocolate bouquet from the dollar store like I was their Valentine's 😭😭😭 the kids are alright