#dropping some thought here before I do work or try to

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Spooky Call.

Spencer Reid x Hotchner!reader

Summary: When your boyfriend gets a call from you, the last thing he expects to hear is that you're being held at a police station for decorating your house.

Words: 2,2k.

TW: fem!reader. mention of haley's death, jack, crime, murder, blood (fake). reader was arrested (obviously). implication that the reader is wearing jeans and shirt (not very descriptive). reader is hotch's sister. established relationship. spencer being the standard. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This was the last fic of my october special, but I had problems and never posted it, so I had to change the plot a bit and here it is.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You’ve always hated asking for help. It wasn’t just a matter of pride—it was the belief that you could, and should, handle everything yourself. Life, however, had a cruel way of reminding you that it didn’t always work like that. Everyone needs help sometimes. At least, that’s what people—well-meaning friends, family, even your boyfriend—kept telling you. We live in a society; there are people who love you; they’d want to help, they’d say. Blah, blah, blah. The sentiment was kind, sure, but it never stuck with you. Not really.

Today, though, maybe you should’ve listened.

All you wanted was to throw your nephew a belated Halloween party. It wasn’t like you were planning anything crazy. Just a few decorations, some music, and a bit of creativity—how hard could it be? Nothing about it seemed complicated or dangerous, not at first. You’d seen your brother overwhelmed trying to keep things normal for Jack, and you figured this was something you could handle on your own. Something small but meaningful.

Somehow, things got out of your control, and now you were sitting in your boyfriend's car in the police station parking lot trying to organize your thoughts to explain to him how you had ended up arrested in the first place.

“This has a perfectly reasonable and not at all criminal explanation. I swear.” You began to speak as you noticed by the watch on his wrist that three minutes of complete silence had already passed.

It had only been a year since you started dating officially, and there were still some things you were afraid Spencer would see, especially the things that got you in trouble for doing stupid things. You'd liked him for a long time, even before he realized you could be more than just his friend and his boss's sister. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin everything and make him run away in terror, even though that didn't sound very much like him or his values.

“This better be a good explanation,” Reid finally said, his voice calm but tinged with confusion. He placed the car keys down in the cupholder and turned to look at you fully. “Because right now, I’m struggling to understand how decorating your house could get you arrested.”

You squirmed in your seat, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter. “It’s…complicated,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. That was the only thing that kept repeating in your mind.

“I’m sure it is,” he finally said, his tone dry but still patient, his gaze never wavering.

You exhaled sharply, dragging your hands down your face. “Okay. So, I started with simple decorations—some cobwebs, pumpkins, and all the usual stuff. But it just…it wasn’t enough. I wanted to do something big. Something really cool.”

He raised an eyebrow, silently urging you to continue.

“So, I got this idea,” you said, hesitating. You could already feel the heat rising in your face. “I took a garbage bag, stuffed it with paper to make it look like a body, and then—” You paused, your voice dropping slightly. “Then I added some fake blood. A lot of fake blood.”

His eyes widened, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying to hold back a laugh. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” you admitted, wincing. “But it looked amazing! For like…five minutes.” You gestured vaguely toward the dashboard, trying to find the words to defend yourself. “I might have spilled some of the fake blood on the lawn. And…it might’ve looked a little too real.”

Too real, extra real.

“A little?” Spencer asked, incredulous. “You mean realistic enough to make the neighbors call the cops?”

You winced, expecting him to think you were ridiculous—or worse, stupid. But then, to your surprise, his lips quirked into a soft laugh.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me!” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest when you saw the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

Yeah, maybe you didn't want him to think you were weird, but you didn't like being laughed at either.

“I’m not laughing,” he said, though the hint of amusement in his voice betrayed him.

“You are absolutely laughing,” you huffed, your pout deepening. “It’s not funny, Spencer.”

He took a deep breath, finally managing to suppress his laughter—mostly. His hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. The warmth in his hazel eyes softened the sting of your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, though his lips still twitched with the ghost of a smile. “I really am, angel. But you have to admit, you went a little overboard with the ‘terrifying’ concept.”

And there it was, the kind of sweetness that had made you fall for him so hard. The kind you'd expect to receive without question after spending at least half an hour locked in a filthy cell.

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, maybe. But in my head, it wasn’t that bad,” you said weakly. “It just…went a little wrong.”

“A little?” he repeated, his eyebrows raising again. “You got arrested. You scared half the neighborhood into thinking they’d stumbled onto a crime scene.”

“At least it wasn’t illegal!” You shot back, crossing your arms defensively. “I didn’t actually hurt anyone. I just made a mess. With fake blood.”

Spencer’s gaze dropped to your hands, where smears of red clung stubbornly to your skin. His eyes flicked to your clothes—your jeans, your shirt, both stained with dried streaks of crimson. A slow grin spread across his face.

“It wasn’t illegal, but now you look like you walked off the set of a slasher movie,” he said, his voice filled with teasing affection. “Here—and here.” He gestured to a streak of red on your shoulder, then another on your cheek.

You were about to protest when he suddenly leaned in. His face was so close now, his breath warm against your skin. Before you could say another word, his lips brushed softly against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that caught you off guard. You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. Then, as if it had all been a slow, perfect dance, you melted into him. His lips were warm and tender, the kiss slow and sweet, like a quiet promise that everything, even in the chaos of your night, was going to be okay.

When he pulled back, your breath caught, your chest fluttering in that way only he could make you feel. His grin was wide, playful, but there was something else in his eyes—a depth, a tenderness that made your heart thud. You blinked up at him, still dazed from the warmth of his kiss.

“For the record,” he murmured, his voice soft, his lips still dangerously close to yours, “I never thought you were a criminal. Just a little…overly enthusiastic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, warm sound bubbling out of you. “Overly enthusiastic,” you echoed, shaking your head. “That’s one way to put it.”

“And messy,” he added, his eyes twinkling as they lingered on the fake blood smeared across your face.

“Don’t push your luck, Dr. Reid,” you warned, though the smile on your face betrayed you.

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound melting into the quiet of the car. He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss that felt like a promise—quiet, tender, and full of unspoken reassurance. The warmth of his touch seeped into you, and you closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the comfort of his presence.

As he pulled back, he studied you with that signature look—the one that always made you feel like he could see straight into your soul. His brow furrowed slightly, and you recognized that expression well: the one he wore when he was about to ask something important, when he wanted to understand you better. It was a look that never failed to make your heart flutter, even if it made you feel vulnerable.

“Okay,” he said slowly, his tone gentler now. “I get wanting to make the decorations amazing, but why was it so important? Why go all out to the point of, well…” He gestured vaguely toward you, his lips twitching again. “Fake crime scene levels of effort?”

You hesitated, his question hitting you like a wave. You knew the answer, but speaking it aloud felt heavier than you had anticipated. It was as though the words themselves had a weight you hadn’t been prepared to carry. You lowered your gaze, absently picking at the hem of your shirt as you fought to find the right words, your mind tangled in emotions that were hard to articulate.

Reid didn’t push, though. His silence was patient, waiting for you to open up at your own pace. It was one of the things you adored about him—the way he didn’t rush, didn’t demand. He just let you be, trusting you would share when you were ready.

Finally, you exhaled a shaky breath and met his eyes, the vulnerability in your voice clear as you spoke. “It’s not just about the decorations,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s about Jack.”

His expression shifted immediately, his eyes softening with understanding but remaining focused as you continued.

“I just…” You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I want to be the perfect aunt for him, you know? Someone who makes things better, even if just for a little while. He’s been through so much—losing Hayley, seeing my brother juggle everything just to make sure Jack’s okay…” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your hands to steady yourself. “He’s only a kid. He deserves to feel happy and safe and…loved.”

Maybe that last word was too personal, and maybe your boyfriend noticed.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent offer of comfort. You took his hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you enough to keep going.

“I know I can’t replace his mom, and I’d never try to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought maybe, just maybe, if I did this party right—if I made it something really special—it could be a distraction. Something fun. Something he could look back on and smile about instead of just…” You trailed off, biting your lip as the words lodged in your throat.

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “Instead of just remembering what he’s lost,” he finished for you, his voice soft and understanding.

You nodded, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah.”

The car was quiet for a moment, the weight of your confession settling between you. Then Spencer shifted closer, his free hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from your cheek. The tenderness in his touch made your chest ache in a way that was both painful and comforting.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he said gently, his voice steady and sure. “You’re already doing more for him than you realize. Just by being there, by loving him the way you do…that’s what matters. Not decorations or parties or anything else.”

His words hit you squarely in the heart, and you let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest loosening just a fraction. “I just wanted it to be perfect,” you admitted, leaning into his touch. “I didn’t want to mess it up and end up in a cell.”

Reid smiled softly, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw as he held your gaze. “You didn’t mess it up,” he said firmly. “Okay, maybe the decorations were a little unconventional,” he added with a playful glint in his eye. “But your heart was in the right place. And Jack knows that. He loves you and thinks you’re wonderful, just like I do.”

You felt your breath catch at his words, the warmth in his eyes making your cheeks flush despite everything. “You’ve really become good at this, you know,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “The whole comforting and making me blushing thing.”

He let out a soft chuckle, giving your cheek a gentle tap with his thumb before pulling back slightly. “I might have read eleven books to brush up on a few things and be better,” he said, his tone light but not dismissive.

You chuckled, the sound lifting the tension that had been pulling at your chest. “Eleven books? You really went all in on this, huh?”

His arm slipped around your shoulders, drawing you closer, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you grounding and reassuring. “When it’s you,” he said softly, “I’d go even further than that.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of the world ease off your shoulders. A quiet thought lingered in your mind, one you hadn’t been able to put into words until now. “But…sometimes, don’t you think I’m weird?” you asked, the vulnerability creeping in despite yourself.

Please say no.

“Weird? No,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “I think you’re perfect.” He paused for a moment, then added with a soft laugh, “And every day, I’m grateful you don’t think I’m weird either.”

You smiled, the knot in your chest loosening, the weight of uncertainty fading as his words settled in. “Guess we both can be a little weird then,” you said, the truth of it comforting you more than you expected.

He chuckled, the sound easy and light, as he pulled you a little closer, holding you in a way that spoke of quiet promises. “It’s perfect for me.”

[mywritersmind]

UNCONVENTIONAL - LN4

summary : In which trying to make it home for thanksgiving fails and a cute british driver feels bad.

listen up : no warnings just cuteness! happy thanksgiving to all my americans <33 im thankful for YOU🫵 lando norris x american!driver!reader

word count : 1968

⋆��

I groan out loud, dropping my phone onto the jet’s seat. “We’re stuck.” Lando sits up from his position across two seats, and frowns.

“Shit.” I look outside of the planes window, seeing the snow and fighting back tears. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not even december! Snow should not be here!” I wipe my eyes. I know Lando feels bad and I'm not making the situation worse by crying. But I’m having a hard time today because I'm supposed to be with my family.

Lando offered me and some other drivers a ride to Qatar for the next grand prix. Thanksgiving happened to fall the day before media day so I thought I could stop by my parents house and leave that night.

I never particularly loved Thanksgiving, but now that i’m traveling so much because of work, I've learned how much I truly can miss my loved ones.

Lando bites his lip as I sit back down and pull the blanket over me. The pilot informed us that we won’t be getting in the air for a few hours which means we have to go straight to the track instead of seeing my family.

I take a breath, “It’s okay. I appreciate you trying.” I hate crying in front of the guys, even if he is my friend. I hate it because it just plays into the whole emotional woman thing, and even though Lando is one of my best friends, right now I can’t help it.

Lando sits across from me, nudging his foot against mine, “How about we have thanksgiving here?” My head shoots in his direction as he puts on a small smile, “I don’t know a lot about it and I know I'm not your family… but I can try to be a substitute.”

I swallow, wiping my eyes again before I cross my my arms, “How would we even do that?”

I did not expect Lando to take my words as a competition. Still, thirty minutes later I'm sat with a full course meal spread out on the tiny table in between seats. There’s no huge turkey or array of pies, instead we have chicken wraps and fries. We have chips, popcorn, pesto pasta, orange chicken, a bagel, salad, and bread. A bottle of champagne sits next to me as Lando sits down.

His smile is wide as he looks down at the spread, “Good enough?”

“How did you…” I shake my head, laughing, “Yeah it’s good enough! Lando, this is really sweet.”

“It’s my first thanksgiving, I had to make it delicious, even if it is all airport food.” He shrugs and starts pulling things onto his plate. My legs are crossed on the comfortable seat and as I watch him pick his meal, I smile.

I bite into the chicken wrap that’s actually delicious. Lando taps on his phone before music starts playing over the speakers.

I smile at him as he chews, “So… what do Americans usually do on thanksgiving?”

I shrug and sip some champagne, “Eat, gossip, be thankful?”

“Okay! Let’s gossip then. Sounds easy enough.” Hes ridiculously committed to the bit and I adore him for it, “Did you know Franco’s signed with RB?” I start coughing, practically choking on my food.

“What!?” I scream.

Lando’s laughing now, “No I don’t actually know, I just couldn’t think of anything else.” I kick him under the table as he gasps.

“That’s evil! I got so excited.” I’m laughing with him now, our food picked apart and a mess in front of us. “What are you thankful for?”

He thinks for a moment, a curl falling into his face that makes my stomach flip a little. “Mmm… My family and friends.”

“That’s too generic. It’s thanksgiving- get deep, Norris.” He gives me a slight smirk before nodding.

“I’m thankful that the championship talk is over. I’m thankful for Chicken wraps.” He holds his up, proudly as I roll my eyes. “And I'm thankful for you.”

I’m a tad bit shocked, “For me?” I expect him to say something stupid or flirty, but he’s dead serious.

“You’re a really good person. I like being around you and for that, I'm grateful.” He raises his glass and I hit it with mine, “Now go on, brag about me.”

I roll my eyes, back to smiling humorously, “I’m thankful that I'm not alone right now.” His eyes don’t stray away from mine, “And I’m thankful for snow. Even if it’s pissing me off, it’s very pretty.”

We both look out the window in sync, the snow still falling. The runway is fully white, matching the trees and wing of the plane.

When I look back at Lando, he’s already looking at me. His face is relaxed, his freckles prominent and curls perfect. “Do you want to go?” I say suddenly as his expression turns confused.

“We can’t yet, we still have like two hours.”

A smile tugs at my lips, “I mean outside.”

He looks hesitant, “It’s freezing.”

I stand and grab my suitcase, unzipping it and pulling out my puffer jacket at record speed, “Did I mention every thanksgiving, something really random but really fun happens?” It’s true, for some reason this holiday brings out funny stories. “You’re not scared of some snow, are you Norris?” I step closer, narrowing my eyes.

He stands, grabbing his own jacket, “I’m just saying, don’t come complaining when you’re freezing and wet.”

“Me!?” I scoff, zipping up my jacket, “You’re the one who needs four layers for a sunny day.”

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m freezing my ass off but I would rather become a human icicle than tear my eyes away from her smile. She’s giggling and running into the snow, twirling around as snowflakes fall into her hair.

“Don’t slip, Y/n!” I yell after her as she turns around, the biggest smile on her face.

Her hand goes to wipe the hair that’s being blown in her face, snow falling around her, “Come catch me, Norris.”

I roll my eyes and hurry over to her as she laughs and dances around. I can’t help but laugh with her, it’s fucking contagious.

She sticks her tongue out, leaning her head back to catch snowflakes. Y/n is so perfectly caught in the haze of the snow and light peaking through the clouds that she looks like an angel.

She pokes my cheek and holds onto my jacket as if she’s about to fall. “Your nose is red.”

“You should get a job in detective work if the whole driving thing doesn’t work out…” She scoffs loudly and punches me in the arm.

Unfortunately, she’s stronger than she looks and because the ground is icy, we’re both falling seconds later.

She lands on top of me, laughing so hard that she’s crying, “Fuck! Are you okay!?”

“Like you care!” I sit up, holding her tightly still.

She laughs and plops down next to me, laying her head back and arms out. “Oh no-”

“Angel time, Norris!” She screams at me.

“I’m going to become snow!”

She doesn’t respond, just stretches her arms and legs out and waves them back and forth to make the snow part below her.

Something about her is my weakness and I honestly can’t complain when she looks so happy. I join her, my hair getting soaked and her laughs making me smile.

I make my angel in peace as snow floats down from the sky, landing on my face. I hear the rustle of her jacket as she turns her head to me, “Thank you.”

I smile softly, examining her face and the snowflakes that melt as soon as they touch her skin. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry that I'm not your family.”

She lets out a breath, “You’re my found family. That’s close enough.” her words make my heart beat faster, “Even if you are British and your first thanksgiving was on a grounded plane.”

“I wouldn’t wish it any other way. Although, next year we should try for a more friendsgiving approach. Maybe with the whole grid?” Her smile grows as she looks up at the sky.

“I'm very down for that.” As i’m mentally tracing her side profile in her mind, a voice and light comes very loud.

“You two!” I realize we’re in trouble instantly and stand up as fast as I can, slipping all over the place as the voice gets louder and the flashlight shines directly towards us.

Y/n is trying to get up with me but she’s laughing and slipping so it’s significantly harder. I grab her hand and we make a run for it, up the stairs and into the warm cabin. The door shuts behind us and I lean my head against the wall, sighing in relief of not being caught making snow angels.

Y/n is breathing heavily across from me, a smile permanent on her face as she looks at me. Her hair is wet and I'm sure mine is the same. I can’t feel my hands and I couldn’t care less.

“You look like a popsicle!” Y/n takes her hands and wraps them over mine, getting close enough that I can feel her breath on my skin.

I’d like to pretend that what happened next was a symptom of my cold state, but I’ve never been a good liar.

As soon as she looks up at me, her eyes big and glassy, I lean down and kiss her. Her lips are warm despite her cold hands gripping my own and as soon as she pulls back, I swear.

“Fuck. I’m sorry-” I didn’t even ask! God, I'm an asshole and now I'm completely stuck. Would I die if I ran outside and hid in the woods?

But she doesn’t look mad. She looks… pleased? Her hand slips out of my reach and moves to the side of my neck, “Don’t be.”

And then she kisses me. I think I blackout because I have no clue how long we’ve been kissing but I do know that I'm now completely defrosted and warm.

“You okay?” I whisper as Y/n pulls away.

She nods, “Thanks for kissing me.”

I laugh, “You’re very welcome. Thanks for kissing me back.”

She smiles again backs up a bit, fiddling with her rings, “So… was that just a thanksgiving thing or a way to warm up or…?”

I’m smiling big now, moving my hands under her jacket as she squirms because of the temperature, “I’ve been waiting for that to happen so if you limit me to once a year, i’ll be pretty sad.”

She nods, biting back a smile, “Good to know!” She slips away from me and pulls off her jacket, sitting in a seat and pulling her blanket around her shoulders.

I slowly walk so I’m in front of her again. She’s smiling at the floor, motioning me to come sit, “There’s one more thanksgiving tradition I do every year.”

She pulls out her ipad and scoots closer to me, I feel like i’m dreaming. “And that is…?”

She clears her throat, still avoiding eye contact.

“The Thanksgiving episode of Gossip Girl!” She starts rattling on about the backstories and starts the episode but i’m still stuck on her face and how her eyes won’t meet mine.

“Y/n…” I say it softly, bringing my hand to her chin and turning her face to look at me. She’s blushing. I don’t think I've ever seen her blush.

“Mhm?” She sounds like a mouse.

I brush her wet hair out of her face and press a soft kiss against her cheek, “I really like thanksgiving.” She just smiles and nestles into my side, my arm around her.

She lets me have some of the blanket and whispers, “I really do too.”

[revelboo]

Hey darlin’, I hope you’re doing well!!! Congrats on the 1k!!! Thank you for sharing all your wonderful work!!! If it’s not too big an ask, have you ever considered doing any writing for Swerve??? I’m afraid that lil mech makes me melt and I see a lot of myself in him haha

He’s definitely fun to write

Hangman

IDW Swindle x Reader

• There’s an art to deceiving someone. It’s not in his voice or tone, it’s in finding what they need to believe and taking full advantage. Verbal sleight of hand. And it pays to know what everyone needs, because while he can and will find a buyer anything they desire, it’s information he deals in. Rumors, secrets, and gossip. A lot of it never pans out, but some of it? Sometimes he’s caught completely off guard, like now. Staring at the impossible little human that just blipped into what seems be very painful existence with a choked cry almost in his hands as he’s sorting through inventory. Because apparently that big moron with Krok’s rambling had been true not just his flavor of crazy. Who’d have guessed?

• Eyes streaming as your whole body burns without flames, you’re only dimly aware of falling and hitting something warm. Just curling into yourself, there’s a feeling of pins and needles running through you as you struggle to suck in a breath. What was that? Head lifting slightly, you stare uncomprehendingly at four big cylinders inches from your face, making a noise when they curl toward you and you crane your neck. Because those are hands. And they belong to a monster staring down at you in surprise. There’s no thought beyond getting away, trying to fling yourself out of this thing’s hand. Falling headfirst into a slightly musty smelling mountain of clothes.

• For a tiny thing, you’re surprisingly fast and hard to hold onto. Trying to burrow into his inventory to avoid him, but finally he catches you by a leg and drags you out. Braces for the screaming, but your expression is pure calculation as you twist and try to wiggle free. “Alright, Squishy. Spill. How’d you get on my ship?” Because that’s what he needs. Intel.

• Ship as in space ship? Because this thing gripping you by a leg is definitely not from your planet. You can’t be on his ship. You’d been at work, right? This is definitely not where you’d been only minutes before, though. If big and scary didn’t beam you up, how’d you get here? There’s no time to puzzle it out, because he’s hauling you up by a leg. “Put me down or I’ll lay eggs in you,” you blurt out, feeling like an absolute idiot, because this thing obviously knows about humans. It was human clothes you were rooting through, after all. And that’s what you’d gone with?

• You’re lying to a liar? Lips twitching he vents in amusement. “That so, human? You’re really going to try to con me?” So maybe he doesn’t know that much about actual humans aside from the general squishiness, but he can tell a liar when he sees one. And you’re bad at this. “Try again.”

• Dangling there feeling the blood rushing to your head, you just give up and flip him off with both hands, because if you’re going to die anyway it might as well be with one last petty bit of rebelliousness. And he laughs, nearly dropping you back in the clothes. “You know what? I think we might be able to work together to make a profit,” he says, optics narrowing as his grin widens. Not sure what to make of him or any of this craziness. Then he does drop you into the pile, still laughing as you yelp.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hoping that this isn't weird but IMAGINE Vox having everything, fame, money, power, but he loses the one thing he treasures the most on extermination day– his family. Like imagine if Vox and his pregnant wife had this hugee argument before extermination day causing her to storm out of the tower, but he didn't chase her cause it was just probably the hormones and she'd come back. But she didn't manage to come back in time. So Vox had to wait in the tower cause he couldn't go out and pray that she was okay. After the extermination, he of course went ballistic trying to find her, jumping from camera to camera until he found her corpse in some random dark alley. What would be the aftermath? I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD I JUST CRAVEE ANGST ‼️‼️😭

A/N — I rewrote this a total of four times 😭 I hope this satisfies your need for angst, my lovely anon. This is the one my sister finally approved for everyone to see. Poor kid hates reading my fanfic and she's been subjected to being my conscience while I wrote this. I had to bribe her with coffee and a 20 piece nugget from McDonald's to get her to read more than a paragraph 😭

Fade To Black

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, Fem!Reader, loss of wife + child, Vox in denial, got kinda dark with the implications at the end(?), Alastor is mentioned a few times. Guys, I'm literally so sorry

Word Count: 1.2K

“You're not listening to me!” You reiterated for what felt like the billionth time, your gaze momentarily darting to the small curve of your stomach where one of your hands rested securely, the other on your hip.

Vox sighed, exasperated. “Listen, Doll, I'm hearing what you're saying and—”

“—That's exactly the problem! You're hearing what I'm saying but you're not actually listening to me, Vox! For Hell's sake, step away from your work and weird obsession with the Radio Demon for two seconds and focus on what's important!” 

The words felt like knives as you spoke them, each one spearing the air of the penthouse. The room fell silent. The other vees were no stranger to the arguments that broke out, hell, they were a part of most of them. . . But not this one. . . Vox stiffened and squared his shoulders. 

“My work is important. My work is what allows us to live the afterlife we do.” He said, his tone firm, almost condescending. 

“And what about your obsession, huh? Watching the rinky-dink hotel cameras in your office after hours for a glimpse of that antlered little freak who doesn't give a shit about you — when you should be home, here, with me?” 

You waited for an answer, yet Vox only stared at you. It was painfully clear that he didn't know what to say. “Lucifer's tits — fuck you!” You hissed, throwing your hands up in the air, showing just how done you were with all of this.

The next moment, you were turning on your heel and storming out of the room. 

Vox only scoffed and dropped onto the couch, watching as you walked away. Hormones. He thought to himself. It had to be.

He'd never seen you so worked up about his late nights at the office. Never seen you so angry when referencing Alastor, who had once been a good friend and mentor to you. 

Hormones. It was the only logical explanation, right?

He let you go, knowing you needed your space. . . Knowing you'd come home once you cleared your head and had just enough patience to once again approach the topic with a semi-level head, likely once the extermination was over.

You knew the moment you cleared the doors of the tower that you had likely overreacted. The hot, dry air of Hell against your skin seemed to bring the realization to the forefront of your mind. 

Yet it was pride and stubbornness that kept you from turning back to the tower, rather storming through the desolate back alleyways, a metaphorical thundercloud looming over your head.

Vox hadn't followed you, and you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of going back. You loved him, and you knew he loved you too — as shocking as it was that the two of you found genuine love in Hell.

As much as you loved him, he infuriated you, even more so now that you were carrying his child. . . 

The carnage of Extermination Day met your ears and your steps faltered, drawing you to a stop as your instincts then screamed at you to go home. To go where it was safe. 

Safe. 

Safe at Vox's side. At home. . .

How could you have forgotten what day it was? The anger. It had to have been the reason for your lapse in memory. . . So you began heading back towards the tower. 

Pride and stubbornness be damned.

Sticking to the shadows, you ventured forward towards the net of safety that you so desperately needed.

So close, yet so far.

Too far. 

It'd been too long. 

You'd been gone too long. 

The moment Extermination Day had been declared finished, Vox was out looking for you. Every camera on every street he could possibly reach. 

Every sinner he found dead and dying in the streets, he hoped he wouldn't see your face. Your beautiful face. . . The thought alone made something twist in his gut like a double edged blade — fear, he recognized. 

Pure unbridled fear. 

Fear of losing you. Fear of losing the two most important beings in his entire afterlife. 

He searched for what seemed like forever, until he caught a glimpse of you in an alleyway, almost entirely hidden from view. He easily recognized your clothes you had been wearing that day and your hair — oh, how he loved that hair. 

Relief flooded him as he rushed towards you, though it disappeared, his heart plummeting as he dropped to his knees.

“Hey, Doll, wake up. . . It's okay, it's over.” He said, his voice shaky as his hands came up to either side of your face. 

“You did good. . . You played dead so you could survive. They're gone now — you can open your eyes, Doll. . . Please open your eyes. . .” He begged softly, his touch and voice becoming more frantic.

“No, no, no, open your eyes for me, okay? I know you're mad at me, Doll, I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . .” He pulled your body closer to his, clutching you close. One hand held the back of your head to his chest, the other trailed down to your stomach. 

Too many emotions clawed at him as he begged you to wake up, to give up the charade. . . He made promises to make it up to you. He'd spend more time at home with you. He'd give up on his obsession with Alastor. He'd do it. He would do it for you. . . 

But it was too late. . . The blood that soaked your clothes and his was a chilling reminder. . . The all powerful TV Demon choked out a sob as your skin turned cold beneath his hands. 

His world stopped spinning, the axis snapping and floating off into the abyss as he held you close. . . He wasn't used to feeling your skin cold. He was used to the warmth, the life, the light that came from you. 

He couldn't feel you. 

And it killed him. 

He couldn't breathe. His chest ached. Nothing in all of Hell mattered more than you. More than the child that had been created out of love and the use of a loophole within Hell's complex laws of nature. 

And now it had been ripped away from him. He hated himself. He was angry. 

It felt as if the light and warmth had been sucked out of his universe, leaving nothing but cold darkness that seeped into his very soul, gnawing at him, tearing him apart from the inside out. 

He could hardly remember his afterlife before you. Now, facing a reality where he'd have to live in an afterlife without you. . . It consumed him in all the wrong ways. . . 

He wanted you back. 

He needed you back. 

Yet the darkness that gnawed and clawed at his entire being, the absence of you — your light that was supposed to guide him through this perpetual landscape of flame and rot for all eternity. . . The shadows remained like a constant reminder, a plague of its own, slowly eating away at him at every opportunity. 

Without your light, he was nothing. 

Without your laugh, he was nothing. 

Without your attitude, he was nothing. 

Without your warmth, he was nothing.

Nothing more than a shell of the overlord he used to be. . . And when the shadows clawed at his mind like a beast seeking a debt to be paid, he let them win. 

He let it all fade to black. 

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 29/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN TWENTYEIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTYNINE

                It feels like he’s done nothing but cook for three days, his arms are sore from kneading dough and turning the handle on the pasta machine; he’s also drunk too much and he hasn’t had enough sleep. Filming isn’t this much hard work. Silvia had tutted and told him America was making him soft, and he supposes it has been, because nothing puts him through his paces like a big family wedding where he and Leandro are cooking the food. It’s one of his and Vi’s cousins, not one of the one’s he’s closest to, but it doesn’t matter.

                They’re all family.

                He’s coming to learn he’ll do anything for family.

…            …            …

                “I bought you something.”

                “Yeah?”

                “I don’t know what it is, but the guy in the store assured me it was food.”

                He hands Bradley the jar and he recognizes it instantly.

                “Lotus roots. Nice. Thanks sweetheart.”

                “Hmm. I’m going to try and find something you don’t recognize.”

                Bradley snorts, smirks and raises an eyebrow, thinks about all the crazy ingredients he’s either worked with or that have featured as part of ridiculous cooking challenges in some of the shows he’s been a part of.

                “Well, good luck…”

…            …            …

                Bradley stands behind him, rests his chin on Jake’s shoulder as he slices the pepper for their omelette.

                “Just…” he wraps an arm around Jake’s waist, smiles as he feels Jake press back into his body. Then he rests his other hand over Jake’s. “Let the knife do most of the work. It’s sharp and gravity is on your side. Just pull back and drop, it’ll go much smoother…”

                “Jesus fuck Leo…”

                “What?” Leo asks, breath warm and damp against the side of Jake’s neck like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.

                “We’re meant to be making breakfast.”

                “Mmm. Would rather eat you…”

                “God you’re corny.”

                “Rhymes with corny…”

                He leaves the peppers half cut on the bench.

…            …            …

                Ninety minutes later, showered and definitely starving now but definitely sated sexually Jake walks through the apartment. Leo has shooed him out of the kitchen, adamant he’ll work faster alone. Poured Jake a cup of coffee and told him to go and curl up on the sofa. Except it's his first time here in Leo's space and there are so many photos. He recognizes Vi of course, and then Leandro and Silvia because Leo has shown him pictures on his phone, and he’s going to be having his first video call with them this coming week, which he isn’t nervous about at all. He’s studying a picture of what he would bet large chunks of money is Leo and his parents, and he feels Leo step up behind him, circling his arm around Jake’s waist.

                “Are these your parents?” Jake asks, and he knows they are, recognizes Nick Bradshaw from the research he’d done when he’d realized Leo was more linked to the Navy than Jake had previously thought.

                “Yeah.”

                “Anyone ever tell you that you look a lot like your dad?”

                Leo laughs, nuzzles a kiss into the side of Jake’s neck.

                “Yeah, all the time. Breakfast will be done in two minutes. You want to keep being nosy?”

                “Yep. You’ve already had your chance.”

                Leo grins at that, kisses him on the cheek and then leaves for the kitchen again. He keeps looking at the photos, and he knows what he's looking for, Leo's elusive godfather. He doesn't think that he's going to get that lucky, that Leo will just have a photo of him out. But... Yeah. He's done some more digging since Admiral Kerner confirmed that Uncle Tom and Iceman were one and the same. He knows now that Nick Bradshaw flew with Pete Mitchell and he was flying when Leo’s dad died. That Maverick and Iceman were wingmen.

                So the fact that Leo has never mentioned Maverick is what makes a little silent alarm bell ring in his head. That maybe this man is Leo's godfather and in regards to all aspects Leo is a well-adjusted and mature adult. Except when it comes to his godfather. Of course, even with Captain Mitchell cleared, it doesn’t mean Leo doesn’t still blame him, so that could be the reason. There could be another person out there who Jake can have a little silent vendetta against. Jake came hold a grudge like no one else, especially against people who have hurt people he loves. And he does love Leo.

                Yeah.

                Maverick Mitchell better hope he never crosses paths with him.

…            …            …

                “Honey! I’m home! God you both better be fucking dressed! Tell me you’re dressed!”

                Bradley lets out a long breath, but Jake is grinning, then throwing back his head with laughter, standing to reach out and envelope Vi a hug and he feels a surge of happiness that they get on so well; realizes that he hopes Jake feels the same about him getting on with his family.

                “We’re dressed!”

                “You mean you don’t want a show?”

                “No. Definitely not interested in that kind of show… however does smell good. Is there any left?”

                “No, I didn’t make enough for three…”

                “Where has the love gone?” Vi exclaims dramatically, and she’s making the face which tells him she’s in a shit stirring mood. Fucking great. “L’amore si misura in piatti cucinati,” Vi sates, grin sly and Bradley flushes, because he’s there. He’s so there in terms of loving Jake, and the fact that he just seems to make everything feel so much easier and fucking Vi knows that, but…

                “What did she say?” Jake asks, and Bradley wonders how much he already understood, because Jake definitely understands more Italian than he lets on.

                “Love is measured in cooked dishes…” Vi says, failing to look innocent and Bradley huffs in mild annoyance.

                “Hmm. Is it also measured by eating them?”

                Bradley’s eyes shoot up and Jake is looking at him, one eyebrow quirked up and his heart does a little skip in double-time.

                “Yeah,” Bradley breathes, “we can make that a house rule…”

…            …            …

                “Did you want to do anything tonight?” Bradley asks, hours later, curled up on the sofa and watching a documentary about the Antarctic. Vi has come and gone and it’s just the two of them until they’re wheels down in Texas tomorrow morning.

                “We fly at eight tomorrow, would like to make the most of every minute we have alone…”

                “I know. Me too… just. It’s New York. People generally like to catch a show or go out somewhere nice for dinner. Just… am happy to go out if you want.”

                “No babe, I want to stay right here with you. Will leave the fine dining experience to Phoenix…”

                Bradley grins up at the ceiling and can’t help but press a kiss to the back of Jake’s head.

                “Yeah? What does she have on her list?”

                “Some famous place… she had to make a reservation months ago apparently. Not my type of thing…”

                “Oh. I’m well aware of that fact. Trust me. Uh. Do you know what restaurant she was going to?”

                “Uh. Yeah. Tartaruga Blu. Italian right? That’s why I remembered the name. She said it’s been on TV or something… Have you heard of it?”

                Bradley lets out a nervous laugh, glad that they’re alone for this, reminds himself that he doesn’t think Jake will care.

                “Ha. Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of it. It’s… Um. It’s actually where I work. Usually.”

                “Your steady job when you’re not flying around cooking for the rich and famous huh?”

                Bradley blinks, because that’s not wrong exactly; but neither does it capture celebrity chef either; he’s just going to have to be more obvious. Remembers what Maria said about Jake being smart as a tack but also sometime wilfully and blindly oblivious to some things that he just didn’t register as important.

                “I… wouldn’t put it quite that way. But yeah, I guess so. I’ve been on TV. A bit.”

                “Have you now?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the amusement in his voice, feels him shift carefully on the sofa so he’s facing him, Bradley leaves his arms around him, kisses the gentle smirk off Jake’s face, so glad to have him here.

                “Yeah.”

                “You going to forget all about me when you’re all rich and famous?”

                “No. That’s never going to happen,” Bradley says, because it hasn’t yet and he’s pretty sure it’s never going to and he’s prepared to work at that too.

…            …            …

                “Oh, I need to give you your key back…” Jake mutters, fishing the key out of his pocket. It has a little Lego minifigure attached, dressed in chef whites and he’s kind of attached to it for some weird reason.

                “No. That’s your key. I got it cut for you.”

                “Uh. What?”

                “You can’t move in with me, but you can come stay whenever you want. In fact, I kind of expect it if you’re in town.”

                They’re words, still not I love you, but it’s what they mean. Like the sly way Vi has talked about love being measured through cooking, like she knows how Leo feels about him. He’s going to tell Leo that he loves him, use the actual words despite how terrifying it feels to say it to someone who isn’t his family or Javy. He’s confident his feelings are returned, the way his sisters and Vi tease them both. However he’s not beyond avoiding the subject, the airport terminal is definitely not where he first wants to say the words.

                “Well, five-star rating. Food wasn’t bad, bed was super comfortable. Company was the best part though.”

                The almost bashful smile Leo gives him is gorgeous and Jake hip checks him, pushing him toward their gate. He wonders if he can find a Lego minifigure wearing a naval aviator uniform, give Leo a key to his apartment. Because it’s as practical as Jake having a key to his place. However it’s not the practicality, it’s the physical acknowledgement of something more and fuck, they’ve only been doing this for eight months, but… he wants eight years or no, eighty years.

                Yeah.

                That’s a good place to start.

…            …            …

                Somehow they’ve been bumped to business class and Jake is not complaining about the extra legroom, because he hates flying commercial, but this is actually nice. And he has Leo to talk to, which makes a nice change. He settles in beside him and reaches for his hand.

                “What? You a nervous flier?” Leo asks, and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly thinks he’s being funny and Jake rolls his eyes.

                “It’s not my favorite, but I’m not nervous.”

                “Mmm. I’ve always loved flying. Every part of it.”

                “And maybe I just want to hold your hand. Ever consider that?”

                Leo rolls his eyes, squeezes his hand hard and Jake retaliates by starting a thumb war, which he frustratingly loses because Leo somehow has double-jointed thumbs which are gross and freaky. He lets Leo know what he thinks and Leo smirks and leans in close ‘you’d still let me but my gross double jointed thumbs all over you…’ and Jake hates that he’s right.

                “So, uh, I’ve been thinking… You want to meet my mom?”

                “I… do you want me to meet her?”

                “Yeah. It’s just, uh, you know…” Jake trails off, because he’s talked about her dementia more than once, Leo isn’t oblivious to it or how Jake feels about it.

                “I’d love to meet her.”

…            …            …

                They arrive and it’s a whirlwind of people and family lunch. It’s nice not to be cooking, instead both Maria and Olivia keep asking him about the different dishes and Jake is smirking and shaking his head.

                “Hazard of the job…”

                Bradley will happily take that, and he’s glad he was able to bring a range of cookies, because Jake leaves his sisters with the clean-up, which he feels awful about but is simply waved away. Then they’re off to see Jake’s mom and dad. He’s not worried, Chuck, Jake’s father, already likes him; but he would like to make a good impression on Jenna, for both his and Jake’s sake. They sit in the car, Jake resting his wrists over the edge of the steering wheel, hands hanging lax as he sucks in deep breaths and swallows roughly, clearly psyching himself up for what is to come.

                He keeps quiet, knows that this is what Jake does when he first gets home and also just before he leaves. That a late lunch happened first is an anomaly probably for his benefit. He reaches out tentatively, places his hand on Jake’s thigh and just lets it rest there, hopes it’s enough to just let him know he’s not alone. Then Jake is sucking in a deep breath, blowing it out between his teeth, throwing his shoulders back and reaching for the door handle, but not before resting his hand over Bradley’s for a brief second and giving him a small smile. He follows him and then Chuck is shaking his hand, giving him a quick hug, and offering a drink all in the same moment.

                “Who is it Chuck?”

                “How about you come see for yourself?” Chuck says, and then there’s a woman there, so clearly Jake’s mom that he finds himself smiling automatically.

                “Oh! What are you doing here?”

                “Uh…”

                “This is Bradley Bradshaw,” Chuck provides, looking between her and Bradley.

                “I know who it is Chuck,” Jenna says with a laugh and there’s Jake’s laugh.

                “Uh… It’s nice to meet you Mrs Seresin.”

                “Jenna, please! And who is this?” Jenna asks, looking toward Jake with easy curiosity and Bradley’s heart twists. Jesus. How does Jake even do this?

                “Uh, this is my boyfriend. Jake,” he says, reaching for his hand and gripping it firmly, pulling him toward him because he needs the support, the closeness, no idea how Jake might be feeling.

                “Mmm. Well, you always did have good taste. Seems it applies out of the kitchen too…”

                Bradley can feel his cheeks flushing as he glances at Jake, who simply looks shattered.

                “Jenna, how about you come and help me make Bradley and Jake some coffee. They’ll be here for a little bit…”

…            …            …

                As he watches his parents walk toward the kitchen he feels Leo’s arms go around him, hugging him and he doesn’t understand.

                “Why… how… why does my mom know who you are?”

                Leo looks so sad and he has to stop himself from snapping that he doesn’t want pity, because he doesn’t think that’s what Leo is experiencing right now.

                “Um. You know how I said I was on TV a bit, well I also used to have a cooking channel on YouTube. Your dad said when I met him that they watch it together… almost every day.”

                “Oh my god… this is… she doesn’t recognize me but she knows who you are. This is so fucked up. You just introduced me to my own mother.” He takes in a shuddering breath, swallows roughly against the tears and then just decides to let them fall.

                “Jake, I’m sorry, I…”

                “Don’t. It’s not your fault. I just… it’s unfair. And I say that, and I feel like an asshole because your parents aren’t even alive, so I should be grateful right?”

                “You can be upset about your mom Jake…”

                “Fuck.” He scrubs at his face. “In all the scenarios I ran through in my head, this was not one that even crossed my mind.”

                “I didn’t think she’d know who I was…”

                “I want to see…”

                “What?”

                “Your cooking show.”

                “Uh… sure. Actually, you know your mom might want to show you her favorite bits, if you asked her…”

                Jake hadn’t thought of that, that this is something his mom can share with him, because he’s never been interested in what she liked watching, but if it’s got Leo then he’s definitely more invested. So when his mom and dad come back carrying a tray of coffee and cake he asks, and she just lights up. He admits he hasn’t seen any of Leo’s, sorry, Bradley’s, shows, and he’d love to see what the fuss is about. Then his dad is exchanging looks he can’t quite parse, but then he’s looking at a still image of Leo on YouTube, frozen with his mouth open, no moustache and he lets out a huff of surprised laughter.

                “Oh wow, you look so young.”

                “Yeah, that was a while ago.”

                It’s only a twenty-minute show, and it’s just Leo talking about making pasta, why he enjoys making it from scratch but also the friendly way he talks to the camera makes him understand why his mom likes it. She talks to Leo almost constantly through it, and Jake finds himself switching between watching the video and then watching his mom and boyfriend talk about different pasta making techniques and yeah, it sucks but it’s still better than he thought it could ever be.

                “Who was filming you?”

                “Oh. Vi. There’s a blooper reel on her private channel. It’s pretty humiliating.”

                Jake can’t wait to see it, chats with his dad as Leo then works in the kitchen with his mom, making pasta from scratch. They decline staying for dinner, but Leo says he’s happy to come back, maybe make some cookies if she doesn’t mind Jake’s nieces and nephews coming as well and of course his mom just lights up. She doesn’t seem to question why Leo doesn’t have work, or even what Jake does, but he’s not going to question his good luck. They’ve made their goodbyes and he doesn’t feel the usual sinking dread about the next time he’ll have to see her, knows it’ll be sooner rather than later but Leo will be there and it’ll somehow be easier as well. It’s dark, and cooler, the air crisp and he stares up at the sky, stops before he gets to the car and turns toward Leo.

                “So… people know your name. Do lots of people know your name?”

                “Yeah. If they’re that into cooking food.”

                “Well, I’m into you…” Leo’s teeth flash white in the dark with a smile, and Jake reaches for him, wraps his arms around his waist and tugs him in close. “In fact, I’m so into you that I might go so far as to say I’m in love with you.”

                “Might?”

   ��            “That’s the word you’re going to pick out to focus on?”

                “Mmm. I love you too Jake.”

                “Good. Very good.”

…            …            …

                He has an idea, but he has no idea whether it would be well received or not, but the fact that Jake’s mom recognizes him makes him think it might. He also knows the best person to ask is Maria so he works at getting a moment alone with her.

                “I… you heard that your mom recognized me?”

                “Yeah,” Maria says, and she’s grimacing, because he knows that it has got to suck, is thinking about how he’d feel if Leandro and Silvia didn’t recognize him. Fuck. Even Ice and Mav, and not for the first time he feels a twist of regret about not talking with Mav for so long, but he knows he’s doing okay because Ice had told him when he asked.

                “So, feel free to shut me up any time, I was just thinking, we could make a short film, like… Bradley Bradshaw at home. And introduce Jake as my boyfriend, and then all his sisters… and your mom could watch it every day. I don’t know if it would help, but…” he trails off, not sure if this would even work, but if he can film the baking session with all of Jake’s nieces and nephews then it gives them a family video, but also, if Jenna maybe watched it everyday she might recognize everyone, even if she didn’t realize they were her family.

                “I… that’s really thoughtful of you. I don’t know what my brother did in a past life, but I’m glad he found you.”

                “I love him,” Bradley says easily, because Jake didn’t need to do anything in a past life, he does plenty in this one which makes Bradley consider himself lucky.

                “Yeah. I’m aware. Right. I’ll see what we can do.”

…            …            …

                Time slips past them, around them, passing over them like the cool water in a stream passes over a stone in its’ path. Month-long deployments come and go. Bradley spends time on the farm both with and without Jake. He films another four different cooking shows, publishes another two recipe books and also opens the second Tartaruga in San Antonio, this one called Violet, which Vi hates but doesn’t actively sabotage. The location is close enough to the Seresin Farm and he decides to see if he can buy the house he’d stayed in when he’d first met Jake again; Jake just laughs when he tells him. Jake spends time in New York with Bradley, although it’s usually only one or two nights before they’re on a plane to Texas. They may only see each other three or four times a year, but they cram in as much as they can with the time that they do have.

                He’s not really paying attention to the noises coming from the restaurant. They aren’t open yet and there are still two hours. He’s a little grumpy because Jake hasn’t sent him any messages in over a day, which is fine, but usually he gets a little heads up that he’s going into blackout comms. Some of Jake’s COs have been better than others in terms of being willing to pass baked goods on. Honestly, he’s worried about Jake, although he’ll leave it another day before calling Ice. Of course he’ll actually have to share with Ice that he’s gone and got himself a boyfriend, because Slider has let him know that it’s no fun if he can’t gloat he knew first when it’s been nearly three years.

                Except in that three years they’ve only had about five months with each other, so even though they both very much all in and he feels like they cope well with all the time they spend apart he will never not worry or miss him while he’s gone. It’s just part of his natural state of being he’s come to accept. Vi walks into the kitchen, wearing one of her pant suits she wears when she’s got people to intimidate and he raises an eyebrow.

                “Meeting with… suppliers? Or the bank?”

                “Pfft. Like I need to scare the bank. They want to loan us money and don’t like us paying it back faster. No. I needed you to come out the front. I have something to show you.”

                “Okay, just let me…” he waves his hands, because he’s in the middle of prep, signals for one of the newer and younger chefs to take over and then exchanges a look with Adrienne to ensure an eye is kept on quality. Then he’s following Vi out the front, and she’s walking ahead of him, leading the way so he notices the film crew in the same moment he sees Jake, standing in his full service khakis looking absolutely amazing and everything else fades to unimportance. He’s across the room and kissing him, hands on either side of his face, mouth hot and insistent and he ignores the polite coughs trying to get his attention.

                “Hi…”

                “Hi. That’s a welcome home.”

                “You’re early. Like. Weeks early.”

                “Yep. Can’t talk about it, but, uh… I have almost ten weeks off.”

                “Wow.”

                “Mmm. Pretty sure you’re going to get sick of me.”

                “Never going to happen,” Bradley promises.

…            …            …

                He doesn’t often get creative control, but Jake hasn’t ever signed a waiver saying he’s happy to appear in any of the shows and right in this moment he’s infinitely glad for it. Bradley has kept Jake’s name and job out of all interviews, he’s not about to reveal all of it along with his face. That’s just never going to happen.

                “You can’t use any of that footage,” Bradley states.

                “Care to explain why not?” Cassandra asks, because they’re used to Bradley’s little fits of pique when he’s having a bad day, but he shakes his head, tries to look a little apologetic, because he’s not trying to be difficult.

                “You can’t identify him. It’s a security situation. Only way around it is if you blur his face, nameplate, squadron badge and his ribbons. Any identifying markers. Including his shoulder and collar pins.”

                “Surely his squadron badge…”

                “No. That narrows it down to maybe a group of twenty-eight people. Likely smaller, depending. He can’t be identifiable. It’s bad enough that people will be able to pick that he’s a naval aviator.”

                “How the fuck are they going to figure that out if everything else is blurred out?”

                “Oh. They’ll know if they’re looking closely enough,” Bradley mutters, because he’s pretty sure his days of Slider being unable to gloat are finally numbered.

                At least someone will be happy.

(Every 10th chapter is an IceMav chapter).

(And did I start writing a Phoenix/Vi side story? Yes. Yes I did.)

[victimeyez]

And Not a Drop to Drink

Chapter 25 of Professional//Victim - Masterlist Here

Caius, Tommy, and Sam have a day out.

Whaaaaat? Tommy comfort?? Well, Caius is still Caius, but I hope this helps scratch the comfort itch several folks have requested.

Content warning: Manipulation, intimate whumper, intimate whumpee, panic attacks, brief ableist language, captive whumpee, shock collars, drugging, Caius is weird and gross but Tommy like. Gets it.

The rest of the drive out passed in a drugged haze. Sam kept him so stoned he did little else than drool in the backseat. He’d be released a once or twice a day to stumble bleary-eyed into a gas station bathroom, with Caius keeping him as close as possible without being blindingly obvious. His collar was wrapped in a bandana, but if he stepped an inch out of line, Caius could drop him with the press of a button. Even after all this time, the thought of being shocked made Tommy’s stomach churn. It wasn’t doing much else, between the painkillers and his restricted diet. 

Tommy had been complying as much as possible, trying to prove obedience before he would do what he was planning, but he wasn’t sure if Sam genuinely meant to be overdosing him. He knew it was a three day drive out when they left, but he couldn’t remember what day it was. The time blurred together - drugged in the backseat, drugged and stuffed in the hidden trunk while Caius and Sam enjoyed some attraction on the way, drugged in the back seat again. Pit stop, more pills, motel, a five minute shower. The most excitement he got was a clamshell full of leftovers from wherever they stopped for dinner. They had done dinner - twice? Or three times? He’d gotten a sandwich, but maybe that was a leftover lunch they gave him that time…Was it three days out including the day they left? His brain was turned to slush with the constant medication.

“I think it’s too much for me, I’m feeling sick,” he weakly protested when Sam tried to feed him more pills. 

“I’ll be quiet, I’m being good. Could I just take them a little later, please?” 

Sam might have told him to stop being a little bitch and take the pills - but he was a little more hesitant after the incident at the lab. He and Caius exchanged looks. Caius shrugged, but relented.

“I guess he’s been pretty conked out. He can look out the window for a bit.” 

Tommy breathed out a slow, quiet sigh of relief. Sam looked irritated, but held his tongue for once. 

Maybe he was trying to behave for Caius, too. 

It was nice to be awake for a while, and his head began to clear. He lolled his head against the window, desperate for the sunlight that made it through the tinted windows. Whenever Caius and Sam stopped, he was packed away in the dark while they got to walk in the sunshine. He felt a pang of longing when they pulled into an aquarium Sam had raved about. He looked at all the pictures on the building of fish and penguins and seals doing tricks, trying to memorize them all before he was inevitably put back in the hole. 

Cauis took to the backseat to usher Tommy into the trunk. When he leaned over him to unbuckle his cuffs, Tommy took a risk. 

He leaned in, nuzzling his nose into the soft spot between Caius’s ear. It surprised him enough that he drew back for a moment, giving Tommy a funny look. Tommy leaned in again and kissed his cheek. Little crinkles at the corner of Caius’s eyes appeared when he smiled, but he rolled his eyes. 

“Ooookay, what do you want?”

Tommy smiled shyly, his heart in his throat. He swallowed it down, Caius was still waiting. He was in a good mood though, his voice playful. Tommy could work with that.

“I’d….really like to come to the aquarium with you,” he murmured. Sweetly, like he was confessing to a crush.

“Do you have the tickets on your phone?” Sam called, from his place stretching outside the car. 

“Yeah,” Caius called back. He finished unlocking Tommy’s handcuffs and sat back again. He squinted at him suspiciously, seeming to think. That was good, the fact that he was even considering it. Tommy put on his biggest puppy dog eyes, tucking his head down meekly, playing coy.

“Please, Caius, let me show you I can be good. I’m participating now, I’m all in.”

Caius chewed it over, his eyes drifting to where Tommy’s covered collar hugged his neck. 

No, don’t let him think too much – make him want it.

Tommy leaned in, slowly. Caius let him, curious enough to see what he would do. Tommy nuzzled his neck, right in the crook of his jaw, and traced the tip of his tongue up to his ear, nibbling on the lobe. 

“Let’s have some fun,” he whispered, before pulling back again, giving him a timid grin. Mild, playful. Tease and back off, the dance he had to do to get something from Caius. If he could convince Caius that it was his idea, not Tommy’s, he might get a little something he wants. 

Oh, Caius’s eyes lit up though. Tommy had said just the right words. He felt a little thrill of excitement inside, a prickle of hope he constantly tried to suppress before he could be disappointed. Caius caught his chin, tilting his head back. 

“How could I say no to you?” 

Tommy beamed. Push down the bitter taste. We’re going to see some fucking penguins. 

~

Sam wasn’t enthusiastic about it, but it was happening. Tommy stood at the ticket booth with them, pinching himself when the attendant handed him a ticket. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!

The aquarium gates opened to a wide cement path walkway, where crowds of people were milling around. Kids raced past, an angry dad chasing them into the giftshop. The distinct smell of fries permeated the air from a stand nearby, and other stands lining the path boasted carnival food. Cotton candy, elephant ears, lemonade. Tommy had been in public with Caius a little bit before, but not like this, and it was suddenly too much. Even when they went to the conference, there was no escaping his status at the bottom. Among regular people, pretending to be a regular person, was daunting. Everyone was looking at him, overdressed for the heat with his bandana and vest and long pants. Still limping slightly, his leg twingeing once in a while. 

Can they tell? Can they see the things I’ve done?

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking. The sun was bright, tinned music played through speakers, it was a bombardment to his senses and utterly overwhelming. 

“Are you okay?” Caius asked, his arm slithering around Tommy’s shoulders. “Do you need to go back to the car?”

No. Don’t be a spazz, enjoy this. This might be…the only time. The thought made his heart ache, but he nodded.

“I’ll be fine.” He gave Caius a crooked smile, and Caius patted him on the back. 

“Good. Shall we?”

Caius took his hand, either sensing his anxiety or keeping him close. Either way, it was a comfort in a funny way. Tommy squeezed his hand, and Caius squeezed back. 

I can do this. It’s just another role to play.

Tommy settled in better once he started thinking of it as an act, relieved of the pressure to be a genuine human. There were so many distractions that it helped keep his mind off of his sore leg. Among all the other people, he realized how starkly pale he really was, his skin nearly translucent under the sun. Caius ended up buying an extra bottle of sunscreen to give Tommy a generous coat. He also let him pick out a baseball cap, pushing his unruly curls out of the way to put it on him. It was light blue with white embroidery reading CRESLEY COUNTY AQUARIUM with a shark on it. 

“It’s a blacktip reef shark,” he explained to Caius. 

“You know sharks?” Sam asked, but for once he genuinely sounded curious. Tommy nodded, showing him the hat. 

“I mean - I can name a few, that’s all. I read The Shark Lady as a kid and it like, blew my mind.” 

“I was a sharks and dinosaurs kid, maybe a little more into dinosaurs. That’s cool. God, I haven’t thought about that in ages.”

It was strange to have such a friendly exchange with Sam. Caius smiled approvingly at Tommy, and he smiled back, because he felt like smiling.

He smiled a lot while they were there - so much so that his face hurt. He felt an enormous pressure to somehow enjoy himself hard enough that it could last him for a while. Every tank and exhibit filled him with wonder and joy, but his inevitable return to misery breathed down his neck. 

The exhibits indoors were stunning. Tommy stood in a hallway, surrounded on all sides by the biggest viewing tank he’d ever seen. He watched the lazy path of a hammerhead shark cruising overhead from one side of the tank to the next, amazed at the glimpse of the creature's pale belly over the domed hallway ceiling. 

He could watch it for hours - the gentle flow of the ecosystem around him, predators effortlessly mixing with prey. A little loudspeaker on the floor explained they were so well fed, they posed almost no threat to the other inhabitants of the tank. Tommy wanted to take it all in. He imagined swimming through the tank beside a swarm of metallic silver fish that passed by, and felt a familiar pang of longing. He was a strong swimmer. It fell low on the list out of all the things he missed in his new life, but he missed swimming. 

A subtle movement drew his eyes to a large, mossy rock lurking in the bottom. It wasn’t until it extended its webbed feet that he realized he was looking at an enormous turtle. It started to make its way up, exposing its armored underside to the people milling in the hallway with Tommy. One flipper seemed deformed on its right side, and its path careened in an arc to the right. The creature looked befuddled, but quickly distracted as it leveled out and saw through the glass. It was looking right at Tommy, its little face right at eye level.

Tommy was swept up in a sudden ennui, and he gravitated towards the turtle. He felt like it should be a moment in a movie, where he has this one perfect moment where he would make a spiritual connection with the turtle. One that would somehow change the course of his life. An origin story for - turtle man, or some shit. Wait, something about the teenage mutant-

“Sir, step away from the glass,” a droll voice droned. Tommy realized he was pressed to the glass, his splayed hands flanking his nose against the thick aquarium wall. The employee startled him and he violently pulled back, stumbling into Caius. 

“Oh, I’m –  I’m so sorry, I didn’t –”

“Yeah, well we have to clean it, you know.”

Tommy flushed bright red with shame, his heart a wretched machine clamoring inside his chest. Tears sprung in his eyes, overflowing when he tried to blink them away. Caius put a hand over his mouth, pulling him back against his body hard.

“Sorry about that.” Caius stayed cool, but his voice was clipped. The employee, disenchanted in spite of the scene around her, grunted in response and trudged on about her way. 

Caius swept him through the hallway, easy enough to keep from drawing attention, but Tommy could feel the tension. He wanted to look back at his turtle friend, but Caius yanked him along.

On the other side, Caius took a quick look around before making a beeline toward the bathrooms. A mother and her children were exiting the family restroom, and Caius caught the door before it closed, drawing a few odd looks. He pushed Tommy through and shut the door, turning the lock behind him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” Tommy immediately began groveling, but fell silent when Caius raised a hand. 

“You need to get it together, or you’re going back into the car and staying there. Do you understand?” Tommy nodded shakily, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes as quickly as they formed. He didn’t know why he was crying, but the last hours were suddenly crashing down on him. He put one hand over his mouth and layered it with the other, stifling a sob.  

Caius fiddled with his phone, texting Sam to explain their sudden departure. Tommy turned and saw his face, red and blotchy in the mirror. He’d turned his hat around when they came in for the inside exhibits, and he took it off to set it on the counter. He stared at it as a focus point while he tried to calm down his panting, absentmindedly rubbing his arms up and down to soothe himself. He felt Caius’s hand on his shoulder, his other hand stroking his hair back from his sweaty forehead. 

“What’s wrong, little one? Aren’t you having a good time?”

Tommy hiccuped and looked up, meeting Caius’s eyes in the mirror. He looked concerned, genuinely.

“I am,” Tommy told him, and turned to face him, though he kept his eyes downcast. 

“I am having a really - a really wonderful time. Thank you for letting me come.”

Caius cradled his face in his broad hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

The erratic moments of intimacy Caius provided could be so startling - and he could fly into a rage just as fast. Tommy sniffled pathetically and forced his gaze up, giving Caius wide doe eyes. 

Caius suddenly leaned in, holding Tommy in place as he dove down to kiss him. He caught him off guard, his mouth opened slightly in surprise, and Caius pressed his lips to his urgently. Tommy made a small sound of surprise that Caius stole, licking into his mouth. Tommy went weak, bewildered by the abrupt shift. 

Just stay still and let it happen. Caius had whispered that to him before, and he obeyed now, limp in his crushing embrace. Caius pulled back after a few moments, keeping his hold on his face while he licked long, slow stripes up Tommy’s cheeks. He lapped the tears away, his warm tongue leaving cool paths in their wake. 

The odd change of pace had actually startled Tommy out of his fit, and his panting slowed, the grooming calming him. He knew objectively was strange, but he was in tune with his master. Caius was comforting him in his own way - not a man lapping up his tears, but a mother cat grooming her young. Their bond was tangible, in these moments when they just connected. Tommy could do it sometimes with clients, but with Caius, it felt all-consuming. He pulled back and they met eyes, an understanding passing between them.

“Better?”

Tommy felt a little dizzy, wrapped up in Caius’s feelings, unsure of his own. 

“Yes, Caius,” He murmured back, his eyes lowering. A sharp knock at the door broke the tension, and Caius pulled away to check his phone. Tommy splashed some cold water on his face to quell the red around his eyes. Caius opened the bathroom door to Sam standing outside. 

“Y’all good?”

~

They toured the rest of the aquarium without further incident. Tommy was hard to get away from the touch tank exhibit, delighted by the stingrays that sucked toothlessly at his hands. 

“Their tails are clipped so they can’t sting you, but it doesn’t hurt them. It’s just like trimming nails,” an attending employee told him. She had lots of orange hair and a nice smile.

“That’s so cool, do you do that?”

“Oh, well, no,” she seemed a little sheepish to admit. 

“Still, that’s - that’s really cool, that you work here. They’re really…great.” Tommy cringed a little at his lame conversation, but she smiled again, and he smiled back. He gave her a little wave when Sam pulled him away, and she waved, too. He felt a squeeze in his chest.

I made a friend. 

Caius bought him a lemonade and fed him some boardwalk fries from his late lunch. The fried food and sugary lemonade made him feel a little sick, but he was starving after smelling it again and again over the last couple of hours.

It was hard to leave when it was time to go, but Tommy was admittedly worn out after walking so much. He hadn’t had that much sunlight in - years, really. He couldn’t remember the last time he had this much exercise, either, and he was fading fast. His exhaustion made him docile, and he slumped against the car window while he was locked back into his seat. Sam didn’t have to drug him - he quickly fell asleep.

~

~

~

Taglist:

@suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @paperprinxe

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

Thank you all so much for reading!!!

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

a/n: midway through writing this, i realized it got too romantic, and then i changed my writing music and it suddenly all became clear looool here's your smut (even though i initially thought this fic was going to be way smuttier)

part 15: the king and his queen

word count: 2,831 tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread | @rubyxx16 | @immyowndefender

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Tommy sat in the office of the Garrison, cigarette in hand, staring at the reports spread across his desk. His expression was unreadable, but the sharp set of his jaw betrayed his tension. The fire at your bookshop had been days ago, but the fallout lingered like smoke in the air, thick and suffocating.

The door creaked open, and Arthur, John, Finn, and Michael filed in, their faces unusually grim. Arthur carried a small red notebook and what looked like a charred photo in his hand.

Tommy barely glanced up. “How bad was it?”

“There wasn't much we could do, Tom,” John said, his tone unusually subdued. "There were some books in the back that were saved, but the structure is lost."

Tommy’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing. “What else?”

Arthur stepped forward, dropping the photo and notebook onto Tommy’s desk. “Thought we might find somethin’ useful, but a lot of it was gone.” He hesitated, his usual bravado replaced with an uneasy edge. “Found this instead.”

Tommy reached for the photo first. It was warped at the edges from the fire, but the image was clear enough. He studied the man's features. Photographs usually told so little, but from this small glimpse of a face from your life—one he assumed had not resurfaced since your time in Birmingham��he found himself retreat. His usual firm hold on his emotions faltered at the sight of a man who could have meant so much to you.

Finn, standing off to the side, muttered, “Guessin’ that’s someone she cared about.”

Michael crossed his arms. “We found it in her desk. Buried under a pile of papers—like she didn’t want to see it but couldn’t bring herself to throw it away.”

Tommy turned the photo over, finding a date and a name scrawled in your handwriting: Ezra—1919.

“What else?” Tommy asked, his voice calm but commanding.

Arthur put his hand on the red notebook and slid it forward. "Haven't opened it yet, but it's hers."

Tommy ran his fingers over the leather. The temptation to pry it open and dive deeper into your thoughts coursed through his arm, but he resisted. He placed his hand down firmly on the journal with a heavy sigh. The last time he pried into your life, you met him head on. Unlike then, you wouldn't have expected anyone, let alone him, to see into the very depths of your soul. He didn't know why, but the thought unsettled him. He wondered when it had become such a priority to consider your privacy as something of importance.

Michael leaned forward, his voice sharp. “Should we try to find him?”

John tapped the photo. “Whoever he is, he meant something to her. For all we know, he's the cause of all this. Maybe he's involved.”

Tommy stared at the picture again, his mind working like clockwork. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s the reason she’s running.”

Finn frowned. “Think he’s dead?”

Tommy didn’t answer right away. His eyes lingered on the man—Ezra's face until the features had solidified in his mind. He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, standing up and pocketing the photo. “I’ll talk to her.”

Arthur scoffed. “And if she doesn’t tell you?”

“She will." Tommy’s eyes were cold as steel. "In time. Don't tell her what you found. She's still healing.”

As the others filed out, Tommy stayed behind, his hand brushing over the photograph in his pocket. Whoever Ezra had been, whatever happened to him, Tommy knew it held the key to understanding your past. And perhaps, at last, everything would finally unravel.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The early evening light filtered through the tall windows of Arrow House, bathing the room in a golden glow. You sat in a plush armchair near the fire, a book balanced on your lap, though you hadn’t turned a page in some time. Your wounds had closed, and what remained was the budding presence of scars, ones that wouldn't soon fade. The physical wounds may have mended, but the ache beneath the surface lingered, more persistent than you wanted to admit.

The sound of footsteps drew your attention. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Tommy always walked with a deliberate purpose, a rhythm you’d come to recognize.

“Come to regale me with another story of a good day at the race?” you said without looking up, your voice tinged with dry amusement.

“Not today,” he replied, stepping into the room. “If those stories don't interest you, I will tell Arthur to stop.”

You chuckled, just loud enough for him to hear. “If that is what enthuses Arthur, then who am I to stop him? Better than him trying to watch me like an injured bird trying to take flight.”

Tommy moved to stand near the mantle, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as they studied you. The photograph of Ezra still lay safely in his pocket. He continuously tucked it away, convincing himself that now wasn't the right time to ask you. Eventually, it became routine to slip it back into his pocket in the hopes that it was finally time. His fingers toyed with its edges, the presence of your past trying to escape into the open.

But he couldn't. As the days past, you looked more and more at peace. You'd settled into a new routine. Finn brought books back to Arrow House, and while none of them knew what it actually was that you liked to read, they all started to recognize your true glimpses at contentment. Whether it was a book or a conversation that had no hint of duplicity, there was a part of you that was perfectly capable of what some considered to be a normal life. The possibility of shattering this and bringing you back into his world weighed heavier on his shoulders than he would have ever imagined.

Eventually, you grew used to his presence. You sighed from your place by the fire, gently massaging your shoulder. With one hand, you unbuttoned the first few inches of your shirt and eased the collar down to reach the ache. Tommy's eyes drifted to the newborn scar, but then his gaze wandered to your chest. Your breaths were soft and steady, a tempo that matched the ticking of the clock behind him.

“You're healing well." He broke the silence. Your eyes flickered up to him with a soft smile in acknowledgement.

“Like I said before,” you replied, closing the book and setting it aside. “I do not control how a body heals, even less so, my own.”

His lips twitched, almost a smile. With the slightest movement of your shoulder, Tommy found himself staring at the scar again, and, as if it were a reflex, he reached for his own. Now a part of his chest, he realized it was just like yours. Tommy’s eyes lingered on your face, searching for something beneath your composed exterior. You tilted your head to the side, eyes fluttering shut with a melodic hum.

No—not now. He couldn't ask you about Ezra now. This moment was so fleeting, and the second he asked, it would be gone forever. If only for today, he wanted to savor this—you both peacefully existing in the same room without any threats from the outside. It was a selfish decision, and he readily accepted that it was his own.

Tommy didn't know what he was doing when he approached you and reached for the scar, but as if sensing this was a gesture of curiosity, you let him. His fingers were warm and almost soothing as they ran over the fresh patch of skin like he was studying it.

For the briefest second, you tensed, your hand brushing absently over your side where the second wound lay tucked away. Tommy quietly retreated, but before he could step back, you grabbed his wrist and stood.

You let out a heavy breath, eyes shutting again in thought. Still holding his arm, you guided his hand to the buttons that were still clasped and nodded.

"You were a gentleman then," you nodded, mostly to yourself. "Telling Arthur and John to leave. I already felt... Exposed. Naked—just from the wounds alone and being seen like that. But, still, you told them to leave, so it wouldn't be so bad. Don't think I didn't notice, Tommy."

Tommy's fingers stayed on the top button like he was still processing if the gesture was an act of repayment or the giving of permission.

"If you need to see it for peace of mind, then you can," you whispered. The usual confidence in your tone dampened into a soft pitch.

He told himself he was doing this because he needed to see if you were telling the truth—that the wound had actually closed and was now just another scar. In reality, he didn't know his intentions. It could still have been a need, but it was one with weak conviction.

Tommy undid the rest of your shirt and parted it just enough to see the second scar. Your arms stayed relaxed at your sides, your face still but forlorn, as he touched the wound gently enough to make you shiver. He pressed the palm of his hand against your waist, firm and steadying.

He stepped closer, and your lungs filled with the scent that had accompanied you to dreams for many nights, always by your side. Tommy looked down at your as if he was silently seeking permission. Though, in truth, he didn't know what he was asking for.

As if seeing the war raging in his head, you reached for his neck and pulled him towards you. You rested your lips against his with a sigh—at last, feeling what you denied yourself weeks ago. Just a taste of him was enough, you told yourself. Just one.

Unlike then, he didn't move with urgency. He simply waited for you to make the decision. If it was just a kiss, then that's all it was. For once, he accepted this was out of his control.

You pulled back, eyes bearing into his with a seriousness one only experienced in the face of a choice that would not soon be presented again—or at all.

"Listen to me, Thomas Shelby," you whispered. Your stare commanded his to never tear away from yours as you spoke, insisting without words to hear you clearly because you wouldn't repeat yourself again. "I am not something to be won because I am earned."

Tommy's breath flitted across your skin as you spoke, and in your words, you showed him that your guard could go up at any moment. But for the moment, you were letting him acknowledge the mask of pain and power, one that only you possessed and chose to grace him with. The burden of understanding you wasn't not something easily given.

"If I give myself to you, I'm never taking any of it back." You spoke so firmly, the weight of your words forcing him to listen. "And if you give yourself to me, I am never letting you go."

He told you once that your purpose of being here would come out whether you dared to say it out loud or not. While you couldn't bring yourself to say this gently, you said it regardless.

"Every mistake you've ever made until now means nothing to me. But if this is a mistake—one you will come to regret, then tell me now. Tell me what you want." Your grip on his neck intensified with the slight twitch of your fingers. "That's why I'm here. That's why I made my choice. It scares you to crave, but it terrifies you to need. If you tell me now that I am a passing craving, then you've proved a point—that this was just business. But if you need me, all I want is for you to say it. And mean it."

It wasn't a threat. This was a declaration of self-preservation over the fantasy of possibilities.

For a moment, Tommy stayed silent.

He'd loved before, loved countless times to the point where it all might have been meaningless—just fleeting moments where he felt love, but it never lingered. And now, with your intentions finally out in the open, he understood. Your goal was to force him to experience it all—the pain and the loss. To be loved and respected. To choose to be alone no longer, and to understand what it meant to choose someone because he needed them and not because he wanted them for the moment.

You wanted him to face the inevitable—that loving someone wasn't a choice. But to love someone who was truly good for him, who didn't just love the idea of what he could be—that was a choice.

And he made his decision.

Tommy gripped your waist, sliding your shirt over your shoulders until it fell to the floor around your ankles. With a solitary sigh, he kissed you again, still as gentle as the first.

"I need you."

The words rang in your ears like an autumn breeze numbing summer's heat. And all at once, his lips found you again. His touch was tender, methodically moving in a way that still treated you as fragile beneath his fingertips. He carried you to the bed, his lips trailing down your neck, peppering you with kisses until all you felt was the need he'd suppressed for so long.

You sat up, taking his face in your hands. His eyes searched yours for permission, and with the soft nod of your head, his hands wandered your body, discovering and adventuring across your skin. He slipped his shirt off, and your eyes landed on the scar on his chest.

You reached for it, seeing in a different way how similar you both were. This was not an attempt to put the other back together, but a way to hold the broken pieces to the light and admire the sunlight between the cracks. To love the other earnestly and honestly, and to hope in desperation and the fear of never loving again.

Tommy watched you as you straddled him. You eased him into you with a long drawn out sigh, pressing your forehead against his. With one hand, he steadied your waist, guiding you as your hips moved, and with the other, he held your cheek with the gentle stroke of his thumb.

He sighed against your neck, groaning every time he slid inside you, the full length of him feeling the warmth of your walls. He admired you as you grinded into him, the last of your defenses crumbling down at his touch. There was no more need for words. Tommy let you take him in whatever way you desired. He didn't care if you were using him for your own pleasure. All that mattered was that you accepted his need, reciprocated with your own carnal desire to claim him.

Slowly, the mood changed. Your eyes darkened as it suddenly settled in that, together, this was something new. It wasn't just romance. It was the molding of the power you both held. Others only alluded that together, you and Tommy could set the world on fire—if that was what you desired. He held the match, and you soaked it with gasoline. At your command, he would set the world ablaze and build you a throne from the ashes and debris.

Tommy laid you back down on the bed and lowered himself in between your legs. He gripped your thighs, taking pleasure in how you writhed from the motions of his tongue. He hummed against your core, his mouth moving with an urgency that mimicked his need and hunger. You threw your head back with a gasp as his tongue plunged deep inside you, curling and pulling you against his face.

He pulled you closer, lapping up the dampness dripping down his chin. You gripped his hair, urging him to keep going until you felt that tug in the pit of your stomach. Your legs clenched, and with a guttural moan, you came until you twisted onto your stomach, riding the high as you spilled out onto the bed. Tommy positioned himself above you and slid back into your pulsing core. He eased himself inside you, taking a hold of your chest and holding you against him. He panted against your neck, his tongue dragging against your skin like no amount of your taste was enough. With a final thrust, he collapsed, his hips still grinding against you to draw out the ecstasy.

You panted, keeping a firm grip on the sheets until he was gentle once more. He kissed your shoulder with a sigh. Tommy's lips curled into a knowing grin, and you met his expression with equal satisfaction.

The game has changed with an entirely new board. The King has his Queen, and it was only a matter of time before the world would feel the ground rumble beneath their feet.

[vodika-vibes]

This Love

Summary: Rex never thought that he would fall in love, to him it was something for other people, not him. He’s never been so happy to be wrong in his life.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 668

Warnings: Smutty-ish

A/N: This is short, but I'm tired and can't do any more than this today. I hope you all like it.

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Rex slowly trails his finger down the bare back of the woman sleeping peacefully against his chest. She’s soft, and he can’t seem to stop himself from touching her, though she doesn’t seem to mind as she hasn’t stirred from her slumber yet.

He didn’t mean to spend the night.

He had planned to drop her off at the front door, and then head back to the barracks. But when she took his hand in hers and asked if he would like to come inside for some caf and cake, Rex had been unable to say no.

He hadn’t been able to keep himself from kissing her after they finished their cake, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from pulling her to straddle his lap.

And, when she asked him to spend the night with a shy smile on her face, Rex hadn’t been able to say no to that either.

Which directly led to this. Him naked in her bed with her head resting on his chest, and both of them covered in bite marks, bruises, and scratches. They had both been a lot eager the night before.

Though now he feels bad for all of the marks he left on her body. 

His fingers lightly trail down her back and then back up to trace light shapes against the back of her neck, and she finally stirs awake with a groan. She presses her nose against his chest, likely to try and force herself back to sleep, but then she turns her head and peers up at him through sleepy eyes.

“Morning,” She mumbles.

Rex smiles at her and trails his fingers to her cheek, “Good morning,” He replies, “Did you sleep well?”

She hums in confirmation as her eyes drift shut again. Rex’s grin widens as she snuggles into his chest with a content sigh, “Didn’t expect you to stay until morning,” She admits sleepily.

“I didn’t expect to stay this long either,” he admits as well, “But I couldn’t leave when I saw you sleeping.” His comment is rewarded with a bright, but tired, smile and Rex’s heart does a flip.

“I’m glad you’re still here.” She whispers as she slides up his body so that she’s able to kiss him. 

Rex responds immediately, his arms folding tightly around her as he deepens the kiss. This, right here, is what got him in trouble last night, but he’s apparently a weak man when it comes to her.

“I’m glad I stayed too,” He mumbles against her lips as his hands slide down to her hips, adjusting her so she’s straddling him once again, “How are you feeling?”

“I feel really, really good.” She replies as she grinds down against his hardening cock.

Rex chuckles and pulls her into a deep kiss, his tongue sliding against hers as he maps out her mouth again. He should stop this before it gets too far, he has to work today.

However, instead, he flips her so she’s under him and he smoothly pins her hands over her head. “I’m going to be so late for work.” He breathes out.

Her smile is warm, “We can stop.”

“I didn’t say that,” He grins at her, “I think I deserve to take the day off.”

She giggles and threads her fingers, “I agree.”

Rex stares at her for a moment, and then he leans in and kisses her, “I love you, cyar’ika.”

Her entire face brightens at his words, and Rex’s heart lurches with painful affection. “I love you too,” and those four little words make Rex realize that he’s fucked.

He’ll fight for her, for them, against anyone who tries to stand against them. And he knows that he’ll have his brothers on his side.

With that last thought, Rex leans in and crashes his lips against hers.

Any further conversation is unnecessary as Rex spends the majority of the morning, and well into the afternoon, physically proving that he’s been genetically altered for increased stamina.

@n0vqni

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[florawrites-blog]

The shift - Sim Jaeyun

Its thanksgiving but here you are stuck in a 24/7 shift with jake a guy whom you could swear you had no idea he worked in the same grocery shop you work in but lets go i guess .

I lowkey yapped here but enjoy lads

Thanksgiving night at Jerry’s All-Night Groceries wasn’t supposed to be exciting. It was supposed to be the dull kind of shift where you rang up frozen turkeys, boxed mashed potatoes, and watched sleep-deprived shoppers scuffle for canned cranberry sauce. But the moment you stepped inside the store and saw your supervisor, Jerry, glaring at his nemesis Martha like she’d stolen his parking spot, you knew this night would be different.

“Congratulations, you lucky ducks,” Jerry barked, gesturing to you and some guy you’d never seen before. “You two are hosting tonight’s 24-hour shift!”

Martha smirked. “Try not to cry about it, kiddos.”

The guy—tall, brown hair slightly tousled, an aura of “I’m too cool for this”—stood next to you with the same amount of confusion. You exchanged a glance, one that said Can you believe this garbage? Then, without much protest (because arguing with Jerry and Martha was like yelling at a brick wall), you accepted your fate.

For the first couple of hours, it was painfully mundane. The cashier beeped endlessly as shoppers stockpiled boxed meals and vaguely Thanksgiving-related knickknacks. You were zoning out, staring at a stack of pumpkin pies, when the guy spoke.

“So, you didn’t even know I worked here?” His voice was teasing, light, and caught you off guard.

You snorted. “I didn’t even know you existed until now.”

“Figures,” he replied with a smirk. “But I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before.”

Your brow furrowed. “Wait, what? When?”

He chuckled darkly. “The day you flipped me off and called me a ‘vision-impaired asshole.’”

Your jaw dropped. “WHAT?! That’s a lie! I would never—” Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit you: Oh my god, I DID do that.

“Wait, no, no! You were staring at me for like 20 minutes straight! Of course, I thought you were some creepy weirdo!”

“I am that ‘creepy weirdo,’” he confirmed, ringing up a turkey for a confused customer. “But to be fair, you ignored me after I asked you a question. For 20 minutes.”

The customer looked between the two of you, clearly regretting every life choice that had led them here. You waved it off. “Okay, in my defense, I didn’t hear you ask anything, so yeah, you were creepy!”

From there, the ice was broken. Somehow, amidst the holiday chaos, you and Jake—the guy you didn’t even know worked here—were swapping sarcastic barbs like old friends.

In the phone section, Jake was snapping selfies like his life depended on it.

“Dude, you know we’re not supposed to do that, right?”

He shrugged, moving on to the next display. “So what? If customers can do it, why can’t I? Racist, don’t you think?”

“What does race have to do with this?” you groaned, watching as he switched from Androids to iPads.

“Whatever. Anyway, I look good. Imagine someone opens the camera roll and finds my face. They’ll fall in love instantly.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, heartthrob. Let’s hope that’s the legacy you leave behind.”

Jake smirked. “Speaking of heartthrobs… let me guess. You were the teacher’s pet in high school, the kind of nerd who snitched on jocks for smoking in the bathroom.”

“Wow, rude AND oddly specific,” you shot back. “And no, I wasn’t a snitch! I just… knew things. And okay, maybe teachers liked me. But only because I wasn’t annoying like some people.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Jake wasn’t done being ridiculous. He led you to the bike section with a mischievous grin.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” he said, dragging you to a shiny red bike. “You’re learning how to ride.”

“I know how to ride a bike!”

“you quite literally mentioned how bad you are at riding bikes”

“yeah i said I’m bad didn’t say I can’t ride a bike”

“Can you ride a bike without training wheels and streamers?”

“…I hate you.”

Despite your protests, Jake was determined. He adjusted the seat, held the handlebars, and made sure you were balanced. His hands hovered at your waist as you wobbled.

“See? You’re doing fine!”

And then… crash.

You went down, dragging a row of bikes with you. From the security room, Andy the security guard was laughing his balls of knowing he caused this incident by playing “Careless Whisper” on the PA, after seeing how close you and Jake were getting as he taught you how to ride that bike . Jake, however, didn’t laugh. He immediately scooped you up, piggyback-style, and carried you to the first aid aisle.

“You LOSER YOU SAID YOU’D HOLD ME AND NOT MAKING ME FALL,” you muttered loudly as he patched you up.

“Sorry I’m so so sorry , but hey you rode a bike,” he replied with a grin.

The rest of the night blurred into something magical. You shared snacks in the camping aisle, played with Bluetooth speakers, and even danced a little when the store was empty. Jake told scary stories (badly), and you made bets on which customer would complain about prices first.

you also grew this weird yet undeniable tension between you guys that made it hard for both of you to face each other

But as the shift neared its end, Jake grew quieter.

“This is my last shift,” he said suddenly.

You froze. “What? Why?”

“I’m leaving town. Taking a train, starting over in a new city with some friends. We’re gonna try to start a band.”

Your heart sank. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah. But you should come with me.”

You laughed, but there was a lump in your throat. “You’re crazy, Jake.”

“Maybe. But think about it.”

you’ve spent few hours speaking about this he even discussed some of his “runaway” plans , and even after sometime passed Jake kept on bringing back the idea of you coming with him which is funny cause why’d he assume you have nothing to do here (you literally didn’t you only took this job to kill time while you had a job search) but it just happened so that it annoys you how he thinks that you have nothing to do here also it’s not like you guys were long time friends or anything so why’d he just ask you to accompany him right?

When the shift ended, Jake walked you to the entrance.

“So… I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry I won’t forget you when I’m famous,” he teased.

“Who are you again?” you shot back, smiling through the ache in your chest. All jokes aside you guys knew you were seriously at the end of the shift when Jerry and Martha both came in looking at you like the first thing they had a whiff of was fart.

As he walked away, you felt tugging at your chest like you knew you didn’t know him for long but cmon how come you see him today for what’s technically not the first time and now you have to say goodbye to him I mean it should be easy but it wasn’t .

But it wasn’t your case only cause as he got close to his car something pulled at him. He turned back, ran to you, and both of you now stood infront of each other his eyes went over your whole figure and just by then out of nowhere he hugged you tight.

“Can’t leave without a goodbye hug, can I?”

“bye bye, jakey jakey”

And just like that, it was goodbye he was actually gone, pedaling into the early morning.

You stood there for a moment, staring after him. Somewhere, Jake was probably cursing himself.

“Shit. I didn’t get her number.”

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Sexual Thoughts, TW: Sexual Situations, TW: Oral Sex, Dominant-ish Ghost, Submissive-ish Reader, Fingering

Get a bucket and a mop~ Also, don't think for a second that spiciness ends with this chapter. We going all out up in here lol

Reader POV:

"There you are," you murmured, turning to face him. "What took you so long out there?"

"Not much, just cleaning up a bit in the kitchen."

"You didn’t have to do that! I was gonna clean up in the morning.”

"I didn’t mind,” Ghost chuckled. "I’m not above washing a dish or two. Besides, you cooked. If you’re gonna be the Pancake Master, you gotta let me be the Dishes Master sometimes."

“Aw,” you melted at his thoughtfulness. “Okay, sounds like a deal.”

You smiled dreamily, your mind instantly returning to the idea of living together long term. It had only been a few hours at the cabin, but part of you wanted to stay here forever. Far away from the stress of your job, distanced from the drama at the base, surrounded by pine trees, and with Ghost by your side. You glanced over at him, curious if he felt the same way. But when your eyes landed on him, you blushed when you saw him beginning to undress. Your eyes dropped to his hands as he began untying his robe, the simple act making your breath hitch.

"D-do you want me to give you some privacy?" You rushed, swallowing hard and tearing your eyes up from his waist. "I can turn around."

"This cabin isn’t very big. And we're literally sleeping in the same bed, princess. So we’re bound to see a bit more of each other eventually," he laughed, draping the robe over the foot of the bed. "Besides, aren’t we… Well, let me rephrase that. What exactly are we right now?"

"Well," you stammered, unsure how to word your response without sounding silly. "Is it too soon to start dating?"

"Depends. There someone you got eyes for?"

"Yes, you!" you laughed. "You know that!"

"Just making sure we're on the same page," he chuckled. "But no, I don't think so. If you feel ready to date again, I'd be more than happy to step up to the plate."

A rush of warmth slowly crept over your face as he nonchalantly lowered his sweatpants and stepped out of them. After placing them beside his robe, he shooed you towards the far end of the bed and climbed in after you. It appeared he was a "just boxers" kind of guy when it came to sleepwear. But you had no complaints. Far from it, in fact. The crotch of his boxers bowed outward dramatically. You had only taken a quick glance, not wanting to get caught ogling him. But the size of what was hidden beneath them was not lost on you. If he had turned out to be the type who slept naked, you knew you would have a hard time keeping your hands off of him under the blankets. Even if you kept your hands respectfully to yourself, the chances were high that his cock would brush against you at some point. Especially if you got him riled up a bit. A few innocent wiggles of your ass against his lap as you “tried to get comfortable”. Maybe you could secretly slip off your panties during the night. Maybe you could get him to spoon you and his cock would just so happen to press against your ass. Or, if you were lucky, between your legs.

“You good?” Ghost asked, noticing your mile long gaze.

You shook yourself from your sexual daze and gave him a quick nod before tearing your eyes off of his body. As you scooted across the bed, you were briefly ashamed to have let such thoughts consume you so easily. But you didn’t punish yourself for the sexual urges you felt. There was no shame in wanting him like that, craving him like that. With a body like his, who could look at him and not want to jump his bones?

You scrambled as far from his side of the bed as you could, trying to give him adequate space. But there wasn’t very much space to work with. Even moving as far to one side as you could, there was barely half of the bed left available. And to get that much extra space, you were awkwardly crammed against the bedroom wall as Ghost settled in beside you. He sighed and stretched out lazily, tucking his arms behind his head as he reclined against the soft pillows.

"Um, Ghost?" You giggled. "I don't know if this bed is going to be big enough for both of us."

"We'll fit just fine. We just gotta be a little creative,” he hummed, reaching out for you. “Come here, princess."

Moving slowly and gently, Ghost’s large hands settled around your waist and he tugged you closer to him. As your weight started to roll over onto him, his hand moved to hug the curve of your hip to keep you from falling over. The gesture was purely utilitarian and innocent, only meant to help support you. But you couldn’t help but notice the way his fingertips pressed oh so close to the curvature of your rear. As he deftly pulled you on top of him, you had to bite back a moan at that act alone. Once you were securely snuggled against his chest and he was certain you’d found your balance, he pulled the blankets to cover you both and then wrapped his arms around you.

In truth, Ghost hadn't made the position suggestion with ulterior motives. How else were you supposed to sleep? And he was fairly sure neither of you would voluntarily opt to sleep through the night squished against the wall like you had been. But when your chest pressed against his own, he felt the unmistakable sensation of hardened nipples shifting against his chest. You weren’t wearing a bra. And in your current position, all that separated your breasts from pressing against his bare skin was a thin layer of loose fabric. Every move you made on top of his made the outline of your unrestrained breasts shift and bounce against him. And each time they did, Ghost felt his excitement grow. And if he wasn’t careful, you would most certainly notice it. In an attempt to prevent any unnecessary friction against his groin, he tried to shift your body higher on his own. But when you pushed off of his chest and sat up, the fullness of your ass landed directly on him and he failed to contain a heated moan at the sudden contact. A moan that he knew you had to have heard.

And his suspicion was correct because you definitely had. You saw the brief flicker of desire in his eyes. You felt his hands twitch, his fingers tightening around your hips for only a second. And beneath your fingers, you could feel the pace of his heart sharply increase. The man was as horny as you were! Judging by the increasing stiffness in his boxers, he was more than just a bit excited. Feeling emboldened by his response, you pressed further and ground your groin against his. The motion made his breath stutter and his hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of the same. But despite the pointed interest his body conveyed, Ghost stiffened beneath you and clamped his hands down on your waist to hold you still.

"Look," he sighed, his voice strained. "I know what you’re trying to do. But you've been through a lot tonight. And I don't want to take advantage. I don’t want this to be something you regret in the morning."

"Do you… not want me anymore?"

Your mind spun with panic and embarrassment. Was it all about the hunt for him? The thrill of the chase? And now that he'd gotten his prize, the fire had gone out just like that? Had you really just destroyed one relationship to end up right back where you had started? What on earth had you just done??

Ghost saw the sheer mortification on your face and rushed to dispel it. "No, that’s not what I’m saying. Honestly, it's taken everything in me not to bend you over the nearest surface ever since you got out of the car. You're lucky you made it two steps past the front door. I want you then, and I sure as hell want you now. But I made you a promise and I’m determined to keep it, though it’s proving to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. I’m not putting my hands on you without your clear permission. Without confirmation that it's what you really want."

Though the mood was serious and tense, you couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture. It was so kind of him to be that committed to respecting you. But though it warmed your heart, the last thing you wanted him to do tonight was treat you respectfully.

“Ghost,” you whispered, holding his gaze as you tugged your shirt over your head and threw it to the floor. “What I want is for you to fuck me. As long and as hard as you desire. That's what I really want right now.”

Ghost’s breath was coming in short pants, his eyes burning into every inch of skin you revealed to him. You reached for the hem of your panties, eager to remove them as well. But now that he had heard the words he’d been waiting so long to hear, Ghost was unwilling to waste another precious second. Before you could lower the fabric past your hips, his hand shot out and seized your bicep. His fingertips dug into your arms painfully as he gave your body a forceful yank, pulling you back down on top of him. Your hips molded against his as the palm of his other hand pressed into your lower back, forcing away any hopes of separation between your bodies. And then the world spun around you as he flipped you beneath him. Your back had barely bounced against the mattress before he was on you.

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you, princess,” he growled, caging you from above. “Don’t you doubt that for a second.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal down your spine, making you shiver in anticipation. You didn’t want to wait any longer and he clearly wasn’t interested in delays himself. In that spirit, you reached down and started frantically tugging at your panties to get them off. But Ghost stopped you a second time, this time closing his hand around your throat and pushing you down into the bed below him.

“Mine,” he snarled.

The ferocity in his voice and the fire in his eyes was more than enough to make you freeze in place. His intention was clear. He wanted to remove your final piece of clothing himself. So you let your hands fall limp against the mattress, surrendering fully to his lead. With one hand, he grabbed hold of the waistline and yanked, the delicate lace shredding in his fist like tissue paper. And the minute the clothing was removed, his hand eagerly took its place. After giving your delicate folds a few firm strokes, he quickly shoved two fingers into your core.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, throwing your head back at the sudden entry.

The hand at your throat kept you from being able to see his pleasure unfold. But the low moan he made at your wetness was more than enough to satisfy your curiosity. His eyes were glued to where his fingers vanished into your depths, watching them slowly drive in and out of you almost in a trance.

“God. You’re so wet, princess,” he moaned. “Just as tight as I remember, too. Jesus.”

His pace began to slowly increase, his fingertips curving upward to stimulate hidden targets deep within you. Targets that he struck with firm and brutal precision. Every entry made you whimper with both need and pleasure. He knew what he was doing, there was no doubt about that. And after the last time he’d touched you like this, he was well aware exactly how to make you a quivering mess of arousal. And he was well on his way to doing just that.

“Ghost-”

“Don’t talk, no words,” he whispered, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen clit. “Let me take care of you, doll. Let me make you feel good.”

You whimpered again, the sound growing higher in pitch as his thumb kneaded the sensitive bundle of nerves. His hands on your body? His fingers thrusting inside your wet folds? His thumb torturing your clit in the best of ways? There were so many things to feel all at once it was almost overwhelming. But you obeyed, abandoning all thoughts of speaking and letting your head loll back onto the pillow. Your eyes fell shut and you hung on as the indescribable pleasure filled your senses. But if you thought the current stimulation was enough to drive you over the edge, nothing could have prepared you for the wet heat of his mouth descending on your sex.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your entire body trembling beneath him.

Ghost moaned against you in response, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations. His tongue lapped at you hungrily, determined to not let even the smallest crevice of your folds go unexplored. For a moment, his lips encircled your clit and sealed around the small protrusion. And then he started to suck. Hard. It felt like he was drawing your very soul out of your body with each desperate tug. And if he was, you wouldn’t have stopped him. He could have all of you, body and soul. He could have everything as long as the feeling never stopped.

You whimpered loudly as he devoured you, clutching the bedsheets to control the powerful tremors rippling through your form. Control. That was a cute thought. There was no such thing as control. Not right now. And if there was, it certainly wasn’t in your possession. When his hands shifted to your hips and hoisted your lower half completely off the bed, it was clear all of the control here was in his firm grasp. He threw your legs over his shoulders and pressed your folds against his mouth, continuing to suckle the sensitive bundle of nerves with reckless abandon. And all you could do was limply dangle from his arms, letting out gasped moans of pleasure as he ate his fill from your sweetness.

When your legs started to quiver uncontrollably, Ghost tightened his hold on you and finally released your clit from his lips in order to plunge his tongue into your slick entrance.

“Good girl,” he mumbled into your folds. “Such a good girl for me.”

Those words were your first undoing of the night. And you felt safe in assuming there would be many more to follow. With a strangled cry of pleasure, you fell over the harsh drop of your climax. Your thighs tensed around him, but he welcomed the increased pressure and moaned into your sex as a fresh supply of wetness flooded his mouth. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. Only garbled, incoherent sounds flew past your lips as your body tried and failed to handle the intense waves of release that overtook you.

Perhaps you blacked out from the stimulation alone. Perhaps you were just that dazed from the sensations that reality escaped you for a moment. But either way, you had somehow ended on your stomach. Your hips were lifted off the bed just enough to give Ghost the access he required. And the very next thing you registered was the fat head of his erection rubbing against your folds from behind. You couldn’t see anything from this angle, but it made you wonder just how big he actually was! If the tip felt as large as it did, he was going to stretch you out more than just a little. But instead of forging ahead, Ghost had paused and was lingering there.

“Princess,” Ghost panted, slowly thrusting between the flesh of your thighs. “I know you said you liked it rough. But I won't lie. I can be a bit more than just rough. I don't hold back and it takes an act of God to make me stop once I get started. You sure you can really handle that? I’m not the best at being gentle, but I can promise to try my best if it's too much.”

“Ghost, I’ve never been more sure in my entire life,” you moaned, moving with him. “Please.”

Ghost chuckled, the sound low and husky as he lined himself up at your entrance. “Well then. You might want to hold onto something.”

[gothamite-rambler]

Tim's and Konnor first kiss

Context: This is just my headcanon where Tim did date Konnor, it didn't work out and then later when he fully realized he was bisexual and reconnected with Bernard he started dating him. Because why pick on ship when you can have both and write ship script fics about it? Plus I do secretly headcanon Tim as being the opposite of Jason and he's great at dating and flirting even when he's being a nerd. Tim is the third Robin and has been questioning his sexuaility, but finds himself attracted to both genders and he has though Konnor was foine! Issue is while Konnor has been out of the closet for a few years, Tim isn't sure the superhero would want to be with him. So he shoots his shot, will he get that kiss?

Red Robin yawned as Konnor Kent discussed the plan to sneak into LexCorp. Though he usually managed three to four hours of sleep, sometimes exhaustion crept in. Still, he wasn't complaining—he was next to Konnor. The boy's effervescent energy always kept him focused.

Konnor (eagerly): If we go here, here, and here, we can drop down there and take them out. That way, we get everything squared away.

Robin glanced over the blueprints Konnor had drawn himself and nodded.

Robin (genuine): Good plan.

Konnor (surprised): That's it?

Robin (casually): Yeah. Were you expecting me to say something else?

Konnor (confused): You usually pick apart other plans, and by the end of it, the whole thing is changed. You do a good job at that—don’t get me wrong—but there’s nothing you want to fix on mine?

Robin chuckled, resting his arm on the table.

Robin (light-hearted): For others, I would, but yours has a lot of thought put into it, and you know Lex's buildings better than I do. It's a solid plan.

Konnor (smiling softly): I mean, I’m not just some dumb guy who can fly and is super strong. I have layers. Some people misunderstand that about me. I can be really good at planning, too. Thanks, Robin.

Tim (smiling): No one else is around, dude. You can call me Tim.

Konnor (perking up): Seriously? Cool! I felt weird saying "Robin" at times. "Tim Drake" is a more badass name.

Tim (smiling, sweet tone): Konnor isn't bad either.

Konnor (curious): Really? I always hated my name.

Tim (shrugging): You have a good name, regardless of the connotations it has. And I agree, you're not dumb—there are many great things about you.

Konnor (raising an eyebrow with a knowing smile): Tim, are you coming on to me?

Tim sat back, resting his arms behind his head.

Tim (coy tone): Maybe I am, maybe I'm not.

Konnor: Hm, all right. If I said you're attractive to me and I've been wanting to kiss you for months since coming out, what would your response be?

Tim chuckled, sitting up straight and scooching his chair closer to Konnor.

Tim: I'd say I've been feeling the same about you.

Konnor pouted, tapping his fingers on the table, contemplating whether this was Tim being truthful. He could hear the man's heartbeat slightly speeding up, but he wasn't sure if it was infatuation or deception.

Konnor (slightly dejected tone): I'm not going to lie, I'm worried this is a dumb trick you're pulling on me.

Tim tilted his head, his tired eyes reflecting confusion.

Tim: Hm? Why would you think that?

Konnor: Because you're straight, right? You were with Stephanie. Heck, I've even met your girlfriend before you got involved with Steph, and I'd rather not be your 'experiment.'

Konnor glanced at his blueprints, trying to concentrate on the mission rather than dwelling on the painful possibilities of "what if." However, he couldn’t help but notice Tim's expression shift from coy to anxious.

Tim (worry in his tone): No, no, no, you're not an experiment or anything like that. I'm not sure what I like because my brain isn't saying I only like women, but I don’t only like men. I—

Tim sighed, covering his eyes in embarrassment. Konnor turned in his chair to face his friend and took his hand gently.

Tim (softly): I met up with this old friend from high school, and after saving him as Robin and being with him… I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to be close to him like I was with a woman... but then he left. Then I noticed I felt that way for a while and when I see you, and I want that same thing. I still like women, but I… what am I?

Konnor chuckled, softly rubbing the top of Tim's hand.

Konnor (sympathetic tone): I went through something similar when I realized this when I came out. You might be bi, dear boy. Are… you okay?

Tim (sighing while keeping his head down): Yeah.

Konnor: Good, because you look like you've been holding that secret in for a long time. If I'm right, I don't want to assume anything. Sexuality is a weird spectrum, but I'm getting the feeling you aren't just straight or gay.

Tim (hesitantly): You're… right. It seems… It is... I mean... I am bisexual, I think.

Konnor smiled warmly.

Konnor: I'm here if you want to talk or… kiss. Both work.

Tim chuckled, taking his hand back to remove his eye mask.

Tim: I thought you didn't want that. I want to do that, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable; I really want to kiss you, but… I don’t know. God, I can't think of the right choice.

Konnor (softly): Since it's not a trick and you opened up to me, I feel more… reclined to let you have your first kiss with the perfect superhuman.

Tim smirked, trying to glare playfully at Konnor.

Tim: You know "inclined" is the right word, and that’s a bit of an ego trip… but no one else is here.

Konnor nodded, and Tim sighed, leaning in. Their lips met quickly at first, but Konnor pulled him back for a deeper kiss that left Tim stunned. His cheeks flushed a bright shade of crimson, his eyes widening in surprise as he momentarily froze. His arms stayed at his sides for a heartbeat, but as they parted for a breath, Tim kissed Konnor again, feeling the man's hand rest gently against his neck.

Tim placed his hand on Konnor’s hip, pulling him closer and taking in a shaky breath. As the initial shock wore off, warmth spread through him, instinctively leaning into the kiss and melting into the connection between them.

He kept kissing Konnor, feeling his heartbeat race as the seconds slipped by. Feeling Tim's steady breath against his lips sent tingles down Konnor's spine. He lightly gripped Tim's arm, drawing him closer, feeling the undeniable strength and warmth radiating off him. In that moment, nothing else mattered; the world around them faded into a blur.

Tim's lips were soft yet confident, as if he were exploring the depths of Konnor’s emotions with every lingering brush. Konnor tightened his fingers around Tim's arm, pulling him in even closer, as if trying to fuse their bodies together.

As they broke apart, Konnor's breath mingled with Tim's, both panting slightly from the rush of adrenaline. Tim looked at him with an expression that blended surprise and something deeper, almost tender.

Then Tim promptly fell forward, his eyes rolling back in his head. Konnor caught him, letting his friend rest on his chest to prevent him from sliding onto his lap.

Konnor (jokingly): Yeah, don't want anyone walking in if you landed on my legs. I didn't know my kiss was that powerful.

Tim (dazed): To be fair, you're the first man I've kissed.

Konnor (fist pumping): All right!

Tim sat up and sighed happily, then covered his eyes in embarrassment, shaking his head.

Tim: Does this get ea—s

Konnor (interrupting): I'm gonna stop you there. When I came out as bi, it felt like I left this confined space; it made sense. I felt free, but that's just the beginning. Dating is the difficult part, but we can talk about that after the mission. We can go to the KFC combination Taco Bell afterward.

Tim (laughing): Is that a date?

Konnor returned to reviewing his blueprints but kept a sly smile on his face as he glanced at Tim.

Konnor: It can be, but LexCorp first.

Tim nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. The realization that he was bisexual felt surreal but in a good way. Konnor was right; it felt freeing. While he still had a lot to learn about himself, it felt good to have an answer.

[sunnyie-eve]

41 | Jelly

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Matt being a little jealous

| MASTERLIST |

"Wakey, wakey. You get to meet Gage today." Dani climbs onto Matt's bed to wake him up but he just rolls away from her. "Matty, wake up." She runs her fingers through his hair but he still doesn't get up. "Fine, I just go lay with Chris till you get up." She jokes around which causes him to roll over grabbing her wrist.

"No the fuck you aren't." He makes her laugh, "We said no more cuddling with Chris in his bed."

"He doesn't even cuddle as well as you do. Plus he's on the couch with Nick." She lets him know, "Now get up and get dressed. They'll be here soon." She gets off his bed leaving the room.

By the time Matt joins the others, Dani's mom and Gage arrive already chatting with Nick and Chris. "I didn't know soon meant in a few seconds." Matt laughs.

"I may have lied about where we were." Her mom laughs, "It's nice seeing you again, Matt."

"You too. I'm Matt." He introduces himself to Gage.

"The one Colby told me to keep an eye on." Gage shakes his hand, "Don't worry, I'm not like him."

"That's nice to know."

"And let's hope you never get like him in that way." Dani speaks up.

The six spend time chatting for a bit till they decide to go to the mall because Dani's mom wanted to go shopping at a certain store. At the mall though everyone splits up a bit but not going too far from each other.

"Ahh!" Dani shouts coving her mouth as she passes a store with an advertisement of her model in the window.

"What?" Gage turns to look but she covers his eyes.

"No, it's too inappropriate for a brother's eyes. Turn around please or you'll want to bleach your eyes." She begs him so he does what she says going to a different store.

"Dude, Chris wants to buy us four a Thing shirt." Matt walks over looking down and Dani leans against the glass putting an arm up trying to hide it even though it was impossible.

As he looks up his eyes automatically go straight to the gigantic poster. His jaw drops as he raises his hand pointing at it.

"I had no idea and I just sent Gage away so he couldn't see it." She sees that he hasn't taken his eyes off the poster, "Stop staring at it." Dani steps forward to smack him.

"Is it possible for you to get a smaller poster of that?" He finally speaks again.

"Matthew!"

"Oh, full naming again." Chris laughs walking over with Nick and Matt rushes to lean against the glass doing what Dani did to try and hide it for them.

Of course it didn't work again and the two just stare at the poster with their mouths wide open as well. They never thought they'd see anything like that of Dani.

"I feel like a baby blue would've looked better on you." Nick thinks about it.

"Can we get those in a regular poster size?" Chris points up at it.

"Christopher!" They all shout at him.

"I didn't mean it in an inappropriate way. I just want to be a supportive friend." He walks off rolling his eyes.

"I'll keep your mom away." Nick sees her coming so he rushes off.

As a group of guys walk by they look at the poster then at Dani which makes Matt glares at them, "Keep walking nothing to see here."

"You want some peanut butter with that jelly?" Dani asks him.

"Shut up. Let's go before I see more people look at you." He grabs her dragging her towards the others.

~

As the four were getting ready to take Nick to get his wisdom teeth removed they heard this noise outside confusing them for a second. "What is that?" Chris asks.

"Trash." Matt repeats over and over rushing to go take it out.

"I know I damn well told y'all!" Dani shouts at him as he was out of sight, "This is why you listen to me!"

When they were in the car on their way Sani could tell Nick was nervous, "You doing okay, Nick?" Dani asks him from the front seat while Chris sat in the back with him, "Don't worry you won't even remember it." She lets him know.

"What is this guy doing?!" Matt starts to yell at another driver in front of him, "Oh my god."

"You good?" Nick asks him.

"Yeah. Helena Keller could've drove better." Matt sighs then changes the subject, "Nick, wisdom teeth is like, umm, the last time you're gonna see the tooth fairy." Matt looks back telling Nick causing him to get emotional.

"Ahh, it's okay buddy." Dani pouts as he cries a bit.

"Nick, that's 80 bucks tonight." Matt laughs.

"I'm so emotional recently."

"It's okay, Nick."

"The tooth fairy is so rich." Dani laughs.

"I wish I had her money." Matt makes her laugh more.

When they get to the office and check in, Dani was recording the fish tank, "I'm a piranha, they're in the Amazon." Dani quotes Finding Nemo.

"Dani." Matt calls her since she was distracted.

"Sorry."

"Who do you like more? Me or Matt?" Chris asks Nick as he was on all the drugs but he shakes his head not going to answer it.

"You look cool now, Nick." Dani says as the dentist puts his sunglasses on him.

"Watch him forget you live with us and he's gonna be surprised." Chris jokes around.

"How do you feel?" Dani films Matt outside the room.

"Good. I really wanted to be there for him because he's been stressing. And I know you talked to him last night." Matt tells her and the viewers.

"How do you feel?" Dani turns around to ask Chris.

"I feel good. I'm happy just seeing the relief he's gonna feel is worth it."

"Hi buddy." Dani films Nick so he raises his hand to slightly wave, "How are you?"

"What time is it?" He asks as they all enter the room.

"It's been like a half hour. They're all gone." Chris lets him know.

Nick looks over at Matt who was filming now and Dani was standing beside him, "Will you two get fucking together." He tells them causing Matt and Chris to lose it laugh and Dani's jaw drops. Matt laughs so hard he gets tears so Chris takes the camera and Matt wipes his eyes, "Am I not supposed to say that?"

"Well, we're gonna have to take that out." Chris keeps laughing.

"Dani still lives with us right?" Nick asks after playing around with sticking his tongue out.

"I still do." She reminds him.

"Okay." He nods his heads.

"Nick, you remember who you are?" Chris asks him to see how much was still in his system.

"I'm Nick."

"Yeah." Chris nods his head.

"I'm Nick. You're Chris." Nick points at himself and then Chris.

"Who am I?" Matt points at himself.

"That's Matt."

"Do you have a favorite?" Chris asks him.

"No." He shakes his head, "I love Dani." He looks over at her.

"Aww, I love you too." She tells him as well.

"Nick, what's the password to leave?" Chris asks but Nick starts to mess with his tongue and gauze so they all tell him no, "You can't do that. What's the password to leave? Do you remember it?" Chris asks him again. so Nick gives him a look, "What is it? Let's hear it."

"Do you wanna know? Skyscraper." He says so they laugh at him.

"Hey Nick, you know me and Matt..." She starts off wanting to mess with him and he gets a big smile, "Are close but you're still my best friend."

"Yeah, she reminds me daily that I can never beat you. I'm stuck in the friend zone." Matt adds.

"Noooooo." Nick whines making them laugh even more, "But you would be cute."

"We can be cute as friends too." Matt tells him.

"Thank you for thinking-,"

Nick cuts her off, "They're getting on my nerves." Nick looks over at Chris.

[jacksmusesdrv3]

Me forever: a major reason constantly overlooked as to why Kokichi was cryptic about his intentions at all times was he knew they were being surveilled in the most dystopian manner since Psychopass

[shirogane-oushirou]

no promises anymoooooreeeee i'll appear online when i appear online 😭 every time i say "ooh i think life is almost done being overwhelming!" it. becomes even more overwhelming in the dumbest ways. all i can manage rn when i'm not stressing myself into a shut-down state is staring at the wall while listening to youtube essays + mindlessly crocheting.

i might queue up ppls art and fics w/o commentary in the tags... i want other ppl to see what all of my cool friends have made, but i genuinely can't think right now with this monstrous brain fog. i'm really sorry, just. yeah. maybe i'll think of some way to make it up later!!! once the dust has settled!!!! but until then i wuv u and miss u. smiles.

[venting in tags including familial manipulation and ableism. i. didn't mean to write all of that, thiss was originally going to be a main blog post but. aaaaaAAAAAA!!!!!

also no need for replies or anything, i'd turn them off for just the one post if i could kjsndkn, i just needed to get things out and go eep jsjndsfdn ok bye bye bye bye!!!!]

[talentforlying]

one of these days i'm going to write up all that i've changed from azzarello's bullshit era and the one (1) piece i've kept from milligan (and also changed) and the only thing currently stopping me is that it is going to be so, so inside-baseball incomprehensible. and i almost never want to go reading/screencapping azzarello and milligan to add references but i Want to add references.

canon is goop, just know that we continue to ride the bus down "hellblazer ended at #250 and looks like swiss cheese before that" street.

[weaselle]

had an interaction with a cat at my mother's friend's house (we dropped by to feed her while my mom's friend was out of town) and my mother said "i was surprised how much that cat liked you, she doesn't usually let people pet her but she followed you around and let you pet her a lot"

and in explaining to her my interaction with the cat i put into words a thing i'd never put into words before, having always automatically understood what i was doing. But once i put it into words my mother said she'd never thought of that and it felt like something worth sharing here.

This cat did a typical cat thing where she sniffed my fingers i was holding out, and then acted like she wanted me to pet her, but then when i started to move to pet her, moved her head away slightly to prevent it.

I instinctively understand this interaction, and stopped trying to pet her and moved back to a neutral position and waited to see if she would re-initiate an interaction.

Because this is basically a consent test. This is how a cat can assess "how closely are you paying attention to what i'm telling you" and "how respectful of my boundaries are you".

If i am responsive to her yes/no game, moving to pet her when she indicates i can, stopping immediately when she seems to change her mind, then she knows she can trust me to understand her, and also to respect her choices. That's what i did, so then she knew she could trust me and relax around me and enjoy my company. She was actually a very friendly and social little cat, who clearly wanted to make friends with me.

But if i had insisted on trying to pet her when she seemed to change her mind instead of simply understanding that she didn't want to be pet in that moment, she would have known she couldn't trust me to understand or respect her, and she would have treated me like she has to treat 90% of the people who visit that house, evidently.

I work mostly with dogs these days, but i grew up with cats too, and am generally good with animals. Many shy animals will also do this same "sniff sniff okay touch me nope just kidding" routine, especially if they've had experiences with people that make establishing that kind of communication and trust important to them.

And in fact, a lot of animals will do some version of this kind of consent test in a whole variety of situations. When well socialized dogs do that thing where they are rough housing and then they both stop suddenly for a moment until one of them play bows or makes a little pouncing motion and then they fly back into rough housing mode, that's what they are doing, they are doing a consent check-in, like "whoah this is getting wild, are you still in? are we still playing, is this still a good time for you?"

anyway, that's why this lovely little cat followed me around asking me to pet her the whole time we were visiting that house, because i showed her that i understood her signals and respected her boundaries, which is something i see a lot of both men and women not doing when interacting with cats and dogs.