#for giggles slash for science of course

[lovers-paradise]

The Science Of Love - Riley Ruckus/Gubberson!Reader

A/N: Riley and Rosco make a new friend for life... you. 

Explaining love to someone like Riley Ruckus was never going to go well. You knew that, as much as you knew she tolerated you, her ‘pet human’ purely for your own slightly murderous intent, your scientific skills proving more than a little alluring to her. She seems, in the end, to accept you as a colleague, watching you pet her precious Rosco with clear bemusement. Roscoe is supposed to stop humans from getting too close to her, but he likes you. So she watches, waits and tries to pretend that she isn’t starting to fall for you. She will never admit it. She tells herself, although you only hear about that later. She watches you as you seek out the latest host for Scout, smiles a little, then laughs almost manically when you capture them both. Scout, of course, screams the whole time as you snip her free, carrying her back to the start, considering setting the puppet on fire even as you leave the host bleeding in Rosco’s hallway. The host, of course, had made it almost to the end, to the ‘tea party’ set. The host, barely alive, slashes at Riley’s ‘host’, almost killing Riley and Roscoe in the process. Roscoe is quick enough to get away, Riley and her host are not quite so lucky, the host is dying by the time you get back to them. There’s a choice to be made. Let Riley die with her host or bring her… home. “Riley…” She’s almost glassy-eyed now and you move to cut her free from her host, biting back a sob of pain even as she looks at you. “Don’t leave me…” She sounds different, not harsh, not angry, just broken. “I won’t.” You mean it. She won’t take you over. She’s still whimpering just a little as you sew her into place, your eyes locked on hers. She seems sure you will, you must, give your whole self to her. You don’t. Not completely. She has your hand, of course, which is enough. She is not, completely, in control. “How?” Riley. Questioning as ever and you smile just slightly. “We’ve always been the same Riley, this just makes sense.” It wasn’t always true. You both could have been safe, you both could have stayed innocent. Both you and Riley had started out innocent. Mortimer had twisted Riley up, breaking her soul in the process. Owen, your own father, had done much the same. His reckless attack on Riley, breaking her jaw enough that you even now can see the scars on her skin, breaking you even as he twists himself further. A one-night stand should never have been how you came to be. He had yelled, snarled, proven more broken than you ever imagined, but by the time he hurt Riley, the one good thing he ever gave you, your own soul had fractured under the pressure. She was still back then, as you fixed her jaw, careful to still her with soft touches even as she retained her host. Now though, of course, she is yours. Bound to you as much as you always were to her. Rosco now, barking and huffing, races to you both and you barely hide your giggle when the dog licks both your cheeks, ruffling his fur. “Yeah bud, we’re okay.” Later, much later, settling into your new life, you’ll wonder how you got so lucky, how you ever managed to survive a father who had never deserved you. Then, of course, Scout finds a new host and you know that somehow, someway, you and Riley must stop another attempt to escape.

[sampos-catgirl]

RIGHT SO. we have our two established relationships (catbug and croc.hawk). croco.dile was already interested in kittay after seeing her fight during im.pel down and only became slightly less interested after realizing that Clown (derogatory) is her captain (she gains some of those points back after slaughtering the marines on that ship they stole. that was kind of hot). mi.hawk would've only seen her very briefly during marine.ford and probably wouldn't think much of her, but croco.dile still respects her in the cro.ss gui.ld era so i think mi.hawk would respect her then. if she has croco.dile's respect, she clearly deserves it.

(this seems like it'll get long so i'll put the rest under a cut)

so for whatever reason, kittay's plans to fix the poster and the ship fail and those chapters play out pretty much as usual (maybe a bit better than in canon, with kittay there able to actually explain the situation whereas bu.ggy does nothing but apologize). AFTER that is when i get to make stuff up since there's nothing in canon yet. it's been a little while since then, things have been going surprisingly well, bu.ggy's followers have yet to fuck up immensely again so there's nothing to beat bu.ggy up over.

perhaps mi.hawk decides to start a garden on ka.rai ba.ri, much like the one he had on kurai.gana, and kittay, looking for something to do, offers to help. she doesn't complain about having to do the dirty work like a certain someone used to, and she honestly seems excited about it.

kittay has wormed her way into mi.hawk's heart, just a little bit.

croco.dile misses the banana.wani he had back in ala.basta, so he has some shipped to the island (maybe with some other fruit.wani, too). he finds kittay cooing over them, maybe even having a nice conversation since i just remembered she can do that.

kittay has wormed her way into croco.dile's heart, just a little bit.

it's the little things mixed with kittay's innate mary sue charm that have mi.hawk and croco.dile falling for her. as they observe her – observe her and bu.ggy, since the happy couple are together more often than not – they inexplicably find themselves falling for the clown too. perhaps it was when mi.hawk spotted bu.ggy rambling to kittay about the new and improved formula for his bombs, some complicated science that neither understood but both were enraptured by. perhaps it was when croco.dile caught the pair sparring together, huffing and puffing with exertion, and watched as bu.ggy effortlessly dodged a blast of firaga and rushed forward to slash at kittay's arm, leaving a purposefully shallow cut that she could easily heal.

they're mad about it, of course, croco.dile more so than mi.hawk. mi.hawk, for his part, accepts this newfound feeling surprisingly quickly, and he's the first who tries to get closer to bu.ggy. bu.ggy has no idea what's going on and is rightfully terrified, but he feels a bit better with kittay by his side. mi.hawk manages to convince croco.dile that the clown isn't so bad, and kittay manages to convince the clown that their business partners are not planning to kill him. now that he's not so terrified, he starts to notice just how handsome they are... kittay agrees with him. please imagine them giggling and kicking their feet like a couple of teenage girls discussing cute boys.

croco.dile, hilariously, treats this like another business partnership, calling kittay and bu.ggy into the meeting room and asking if they'd like to join him and mi.hawk. bu.ggy had absolutely no idea that this was what they were planning. kittay saw it coming from miles away, because by now she knows very well how these worlds work.

don't let bu.ggy's followers hear about this. god knows what they might do.

[alloftheimagines]

billy hargrove | yours

masterlist | tag list | ko-fi

words: 2.2k

warnings: 18+

jealous!billy, s4 spoilers, mentions of billy's abusive household, brief references to sex, mentions of eddie hiding from jason after the murders, mentions of death, au where billy survived starcourt and is helping reader hide eddie, smoking, strong language, angst and fluff, casual lovers to relationship

prompt: billy but jealous of eddie? thinking reader and billy stay back to guard/watch over eddie and Eddie’s encounters with reader is like Eddie and Chrissy level of giggling and reminiscing, something billy gets a little jealous of 

tags: @whiskeypowder @lil-stark @m0rning-st4r @findleynovadachs111

Billy Hargrove had just about gotten used to babysitting his sister and friends this year after the events of Starcourt Mall. He’d just about gotten used to the bullshit that is Hawkins’ tiny little monster problem after, well, having one possess his mind for a short time. 

 But as he props himself against the wall with his arms crossed in Reefer Rick’s house-slash-shack, he doesn’t think he’ll ever quite get used to babysitting a grown-ass man. Least of all Eddie fucking Munson, dungeon-whatsit and oldest high-schooler ever. 

You, Billy’s girlfriend, on the other hand, don’t seem to have a problem with it. As Eddie tucks into a box of cereal, eyes wide with a terror Billy knows well, you squat in front of the metalhead, placing a hand over his. 

“Hey. It’s gonna be alright, you know?” you reassure him. “We’ll figure it out.”

Billy’s stomach clenches with something hot and vicious, because that soft voice is supposed to be for him. Supposed to be saved for your midnight talks or car conversations. Hearing you use it with someone else, for someone else…

It’s selfish. He knows it is. Your compassion knows no bounds, and it’s one of the things he loves about you. But he’s jealous — of Eddie “the freak” Munson. He didn’t even know the two of you were close, but judging by the way Eddie softens with your words, it seems you are. 

“They think I killed Chrissy, y/n. How the hell will this ever be okay?”

You tilt your head carefully, eyes fixed on Eddie’s. Billy can’t stand to look. He clenches his jaw, averting his attention to the window instead. 

“Anyone who knows you knows you aren’t capable of this. God, remember when you tried to free all the frogs in the science lab in middle school before they could get dissected?” Your giggle leaves Billy burning, and he clenches his hands into fists. “Or what about when you forced the bus driver to stop so you could help that old lady cross the road?”

Eddie snorts as though sufficiently comforted. “I forgot about that shit. How’d you remember?”

“I just do,” you say. “I guess I never expected you to be half as kind as you were. But you’re a good person, Eddie. People know that. You’re, like, one of the best people in town.”

“Oh, come on…” Eddie shakes his head, though he smirks slightly at you. 

Billy is going to combust if Eddie looks at you like that again. He swears he is. 

“I didn’t know you two were such great friends.” A hint of sarcasm colours Billy’s gravelly voice as he pushes off the wall, motioning between the two of you.

You only shrug. “Not so much in high school. But, god, in middle school? Everyone else was terrified of you and I thought you were so fucking cool.”

The fact you aren’t even talking to Billy, but still to Eddie, only pushes the knife in. 

Eddie scoffs again. “No way.”

“Yeah, way. Hey, remember…” You sink into another fit of laughter, face turning red. Billy rakes his hair back, shaking his head. Are you flirting with Eddie right in front of his fucking face now? “Remember when we tried to skip sex ed by climbing out of Miss Wainwright’s window?”

“You fell straight into the janitor’s mop bucket,” Eddie adds, snapping his fingers with the memory. And then he did an impression of the janitor, which only made you laugh more. Which, of course, made Billy want to shove his fist down Eddie’s throat. 

Billy shakes his head as his patience finally frays. “I’m keeping a lookout outside. Let me know when you two are done reminiscing.” With that, he marches out, slamming the door shut behind him. He never thought you’d make him feel like this: a third wheel, forgotten, invisible. It’s like you didn’t even care he was there. You only cared about making Eddie laugh. 

As the door opens and you step outside, Billy examines his rings in an attempt at feigning nonchalance. 

“Hey,” you say carefully. “What was that about?”

Billy shakes his head, squinting out onto Lover’s Lake. He couldn’t remember why he was here. Why he was supposed to care about some guy while another threat loomed over the town. “Nothin’.” 

“Oh, come on. I thought we were past the whole thing where you get pissed and don’t talk to me about it.” You raise your eyebrows expectantly, but Billy keeps his lips clamped. If you want to flirt with other guys, then he has no choice but to put his walls back up. If you can stop caring, so can he. 

“I don’t know what to tell you.” He pulls out a cigarette, dangling it between his lips and lighting it slowly because he knows how much you hate every moment of it: both the suspended conversation and the fact he hasn’t quit smoking yet. After a long drag that does nothing to calm his unease, he continues, “I’m not pissed.”

You roll your eyes. “You didn’t like that I was talking to a friend. Is that it?”

“I don’t give a damn who you talk to, sweetheart. You should get back in there. Keep your old pal company, seeing as he's so fuckin' great.”

You let out an aggravated sigh, teeth gritted as you watch the smoke curl from his mouth. “That’s all he is. An old friend. And he’s going through shit, okay? Excuse me for trying to lighten the mood.”

“We’re all going through shit.” Billy narrows his eyes as he flicks the cigarette. 

Your silence speaks volumes. Finally, you shake your head in disbelief, disgust curling across your features as though Billy’s the one being an ass. Which, admittedly, he is, but you started it with your fucking flirting and giggling and oh, Eddie, you’re so kind and cool. 

You and Billy have never had the chance to be steady. It took Billy a long time to convince you to go on a date with him, and you only caved after watching him almost die at Starcourt. Though you spend most of your free time together, neither of you has made it exclusive. You don’t trust him, and maybe he doesn’t quite trust himself. He’s never been in a real relationship, and maybe he’s a little scared it’ll change him. Scared you’ll hold more expectations of him than he can live up to. Your interaction with Eddie just proved it. You’ve never called Billy kind or a good person. You don’t have old memories to laugh about. Sometimes it feels like the only thing weaving you together is that one night. July 4th. The day Billy’s world changed. 

“I guess I wouldn’t know. You never talk to me. When you’re done being a jealous asshole, feel free to let me know.” you mutter finally, sourly. It makes him want to wince. He’s pushed you too far, just like he always knew he would. Maybe he’s been waiting for the day you’d give up, see his true colours. The darkness in him, put there by a shitty dad and a whole lot of anger issues. If he was accused of murder, everyone would believe it, not just a few pious jocks looking to pick a fight with a supposed Satan-worshipper. That’s who he is. 

That’s what’s at the root of this sudden, inescapable, ugly jealousy. Because when it comes down to it, you should be with someone good. Someone kind. Someone a little less lame than Eddie, perhaps, but someone far nicer than Billy.

Billy presses his thumb to the corner of his eye, trying to push aside his pride. It isn’t easy. He wouldn’t do it for just anyone. But you’re not just anyone, so before you step back into the house, he calls you back. “Alright, fine. I’m being a jealous asshole.”

Surprise crumples your features. He rarely admits his mistakes, mending your non-relationship with kisses and plenty of foreplay that leaves you weak-kneed and forgetting what you were arguing about in the first place. But he knows this is different. This is a sign of his brokenness, and if he doesn’t attempt to fix it, he’s certain you’ll walk away. You put up with a lot of his shit already. He doesn’t want to see if this is your breaking point. The thought alone leaves him empty and nauseous, a reminder of all the reasons why this was supposed to stay casual.

But it didn’t. He cares about you. You’re under his skin, and it’s driving him mad. 

“Why, exactly, are you being a jealous asshole?” you ask carefully. “Eddie and I are just friends — or we were, years ago. We have a couple memories. Besides, it’s not like we ever said this was a relationship. I’m sure you’ve flirted with hundreds of girls behind my back.”

“Why would you think that?” Angrily, Billy stubs out his cigarette.

“Because I went to high school with you. I saw the way you were. I’m not arrogant enough to believe I’ll be the one who you settle for. That I'll be the one who tames the most notorious lady's man in Hawkins.”

He almost pulls out another cigarette, another bout of rage rolling through him. “If that’s how you feel, what are we even doing here?”

“You tell me,” you say quietly. 

Billy licks his lips, nostrils flaring. He’s speechless. “Damned if I fucking know.”

“Right. Okay. Good to know.” Disappointment leaves your expression to wilt, eyes glistening with hurt. It isn’t fair, he thinks, that you’re the one who gets to be upset when you just told him you don’t trust him and accused him of fooling around with half of the town.

“Don’t pretend you’re the victim right now. Not after what you just said to me. Not after you just sat in there,” one hand on his hip, he points to the house, “and flirted with another guy in front of me.”

You roll your eyes. “I wasn’t flirting with anyone. Jesus Christ.” Flustered, you sweep your hair back. “I don’t even know what you want me to say. If it isn’t obvious already, the only person I want to fucking flirt with is you.” You jab a finger into his chest, leaving him to rock on his heels. 

Billy’s brows furrow, still tight with ire. “Yeah? Well, the only person I want is you, but apparently I’m fucking with every woman in town, so what now?”

“I don’t know!” you snap, and then, as though the words have just sunk in: “Wait, really?”

He would rather be anywhere else than having this conversation right now. He feels too raw, too vulnerable. But he knows he’ll lose you if he doesn’t open up. Sooner or later, you’ll want something more. And he wants to be the one to give it to you. He never wants to stand in a room and doubt his importance to you again. He wants to be yours, and he wants everyone to fucking know it. 

“Yes,” he answers steadily. “Really.”

“You… you only want me?” You say it as though the idea is preposterous. As though Billy Hargrove could ever be monogamous. But fuck, he’s only ever felt anything for you. Nobody else has ever meant a damn thing to him. 

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?”

You swallow, inching closer to him and cupping his jaw in your hands. “I just didn’t think you wanted things to be… exclusive. After last year, I thought I was just your way of blowing off steam. I didn’t know…”

He glances at his boots, brows knitted together and hands heavy around your waist. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. Good enough to ask you to make this thing serious. I’m not good like him, you know? I’m out of my depth here. I’ve never wanted this before. Fuck, I’ve never felt like this before. You make me crazy, you know that?”

“Billy…” Your eyes glisten with tears. “You are good. I know you. In here,” you place a hand over his heart, “I know you’re a good man. The best man. You’ve just spent a lot of time pretending not to feel anything.”

He hates how much you see him. How well. Because you’re right. His attitude, his anger… they were taught. They were symptoms of his broken family. But he was certain his heart was already tainted. Now, he thinks maybe not, because nobody born evil could feel the way he feels for you. You make him want to believe he’s something more. Even when he’s an ass, you’re here, sticking around, telling him he’s good. 

He never knew how much he needed that. 

He catches your hand, lifting his gaze back to you. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want all of you,” you admit without missing a beat. “I want to be with you. Properly. I want to be more than just your way of blowing off steam. And I want you to trust that what I feel for you is real. That you’re who I want. Nobody else. I want you to stop closing yourself off when things get hard. I want you, Billy. I want you. Even the bad parts. Even when you’re acting like an asshole.”

He’s lost for words. Nobody has ever offered him that. Unconditional love. A steady, unwavering relationship. A promise to take his bad and still see his good. 

He’d be a fucking fool to push it all away. 

He rests his head against yours, closing his eyes to prevent tears. “You have me. I’m yours, sweetheart. Fuck, I’ve always been yours.”

You kiss him softly, sealing a silent promise. You’re his, too, and you don’t need to say it aloud for him to know anymore.

[shokobuns]

something sweet

maybe having someone to help you out in the stockroom wasn't so bad after all.

PAIRING: itadori yuuji x reader

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: almost stabbed, mentions of sharp things (boxcutters and broken glass), making out

it’s not like you had a problem with the same menial tasks everyday.

in fact, you would even say that it was a fun way to spend your free period. it was better than doing some complicated assignment or even having to talk to people with your lack of sleep and patience. coffee never allowed for a proper nap no matter how exhausted you were and your teacher wouldn’t allow that anyways.

it was an easy job that you could do with minimal help. all you had to do was put the beakers away, clean up the floor once in awhile, maybe pop some bubble wrap when new packages arrived. being alone in the stockroom was nice because you were able to turn on some music on your headphones, do whatever dances you felt like doing as long as you were still doing your job. no help was needed or wanted.

“where should i put this?”

you jump, nearly stabbing the blonde haired boy behind you with a boxcutter. luckily, he was quick, jumping backwards with a yelp as you took a deep breath in to process the situation. you didn’t accidentally hurt the boy in front of you, did you? your face falls and the initial rush of fear turns into guilt. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know you were there!”

“it’s okay,’ he responds with a smile, unphased by the fact his shirt had almost been slashed, ‘i understand. you’re probably here alone most of the time, right?”

“yeah, i wasn’t expecting for anyone else to be here,” you sigh before realizing what he had probably walked in on before the whole ordeal, “wait.. did you see me doing anything?”

“you’re a pretty good dancer if that’s what you’re asking.”

embarrassment. your cheeks feel unbelievably hot and your stomach turns while embarrassment settles in your body. this period was your alone time, your chance to flail about and having someone else witness it? definitely not preferable. although, he does seem nice and he hasn’t made fun of you. not yet, at least.

his voice brings you out of your train of thought. “so, where should i put that thing?”

he carries on as if nothing happened. thank god. “the flask goes in that cabinet, bottom shelf. you’ll see more just like it.” you reply, pointing to the space.

he mumbles a quick thank you before doing unloading more of the new flasks onto the cabinet. you work on your own, choosing to count the new magnets on the other side of the room, doing your best to avoid him considering you just embarrassed yourself in front of the stranger by nearly injuring him for asking a simple question. though, he looks slightly familiar, he’ll probably be gone tomorrow and that’s all that matters.

behind you, yuji takes small glances while he puts away the flasks, waiting for you to turn around and ask for his name. hell, he’s waiting for any type of question. after all, who sees a random boy in their work space and doesn’t question it at all?

when the next day comes, you’re proven wrong because he sits in the chair, awaiting another order from you. you curse under your breath before putting on a faux smile. “do you need help with anything?”

“do you need help with anything?”

“no, thanks. i’m good on my own. you can go back to whatever you do in this period.”

he scratches his head, eyebrows furrowing together. “i thought you needed help. that’s what my math teacher told me when he sent me here.”

“not really? i can usually get a lot done on my own. who told you i needed help?”

“gojo. i’m his teacher assistant, but i don’t know how to do the math he’s teaching, so i can’t really help anyone.” he explains

“oh, yeah! i had him for calculus last semester,” your eyes light up at the mention of your favorite white haired mentor, “weird guy. good teacher.”

wait. gojo’s teacher assistant?

you’ve heard your friends talk about him, given that they were in that exact class the blonde haired boy was supposed to be in right now. the one guy that pe teachers fawn over and coaches try to recruit? why did they put him in the math department instead of pe? what’s his name again? yuki? yugi?

“you’re yuji itadori?”

“yuji itadori.” he confirms and you’re relieved. good thing you didn’t mess up his name.

no wonder he looked familiar. miwa was fascinated by his physical ability, you distinctly remember her pointing him out during lunch and telling you about how he was ‘scarily fast’ and could probably ‘lift ten of her at a time.’ although, it was from far away and he was partially blocked by a girl with short brown hair and megumi, the intimidating spikey haired quiet boy in some of your classes.

but yuji didn’t look like someone who could lift ten miwas up close. maybe he was hiding behind the oversized hoodie he wore, but he was a kind looking boy with wide eyes and messy tufts of strawberry blonde hair. throughout the short time you’ve seen him up close, he always had a slight smile on his resting face. in short, he looked approachable and was seemingly friendly.

“so, do you need help with anything?” he asks again and you decide that maybe he can be of use to you. especially if he has the strength that miwa had described.

“actually, yeah. can you lift those boxes over there and bring them to the other side of the room? they’re kind of heavy-”

she was correct because he lifts the box, which is supposedly about thirty kilograms according to your teacher, with ease. now, you don’t have to constantly go back and forth around the room just to put the packaged metal away in a farther cabinet and he can probably just put them away himself, too. it goes that way for the next hour and a half, both of you staying in your respective sides of the room, putting away your own respective items.

“thanks, itadori.”

“call me yuji.”

“will do.”

over the next two weeks, you two don’t talk as much as yuji had hoped.

he still remembers gojo’s words of encouragement, his push to get his favorite student to talk to the person who drops off notes to the teacher across the hallway from time to time. he’s never talked to you and he doubts you would even know that he existed in the first place. in fact, he was perfectly content with just stapling the papers that gojo would give him, maybe getting his own homework done in the period, but he was insistent.

“i’ve seen you staring outside the window whenever they pass by, yuji. just talk to them.”

“it’s okay.’

“no it’s not. get to know her. what if they’re nice? hmmmmm?”

“i’ll talk to her myself at some point.”

that was all it took for gojo to leave him alone, not that he didn’t like gojo or anything, especially with gojo being his second favorite teacher in the first place, but he’s content with his little crush. and again, he doubted that you would remember him in your history class and from the looks of it, he was right.

he just didn’t expect to be sent at the very stockroom that you would be in. for the rest of the semester. gojo had definitely set him up for something.

yuji was in that conflicting position in which he didn’t know whether to start a conversation or not because he didn’t want to bother you. but he also wanted to get to know you up close. of course he can sense your exhaustion himself through droopy eyelids that threaten to close and your dependence on caffeine, something he had learned about you so far in these few weeks. the only thing, it seems like.

as for you, a short talk with your science teacher confirmed that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon and though you will miss dancing around the stockroom by yourself, he wasn’t bad company. he mostly kept to himself, often being more rigid when you barely spared him a glance. at the times you would speak to him, he seemed more excitable and easygoing, listening to every word you say.

“yuji?”

“hmm?”

“come help me by unboxing these beakers, alright?” you patted the spot next to you before sliding the blade down the tape, “don’t worry. i’m not gonna stab you.”

“i guess i’ll help,” he snorts, “don’t you usually do these by yourself?”

“yeah, but since you’re spending the semester with me in here, we might as well get to know each other right?”

the whirring of the fan, the sound of your voice — it all seemed to fade into the background as his heart thumped hard in his chest. a million thoughts, both good and bad, race through his head as he formulated different questions, answers, and scenarios in his mind, all of them being a jumble of fantasy and panic.

you wave a hand in front of his face in an attempt to catch his attention. he seemed completely frozen, staring at you with dead eyes and it’s now that you realize you haven’t seen him up this close. honey brown eyes, the soft curve of his nose, and were those crinkles under his eyes, too? up until now, you only knew him as the ‘athletic man who was bad at math’, but he was also undeniably beautiful with his carved face and strawberry blonde hair.

“yuuuuuuuji?”

“oh! i’m sorry! did you say you wanted to get to know me?”

“yeah, we’re kind of stuck in this room everyday for an hour and a half together. i might as well find out what your favorite color is or something.”

“red! my turn! what were you listening to when you almost stabbed me?”

“hey! it was an accident!” he giggles, slicing the tape seal down the middle and opening up the package and pointing right at it. “you see that? that could have been me. i should at least know what i’m being stabbed to.”

“meg thee stallion..”

“nevermind. she’s beautiful and i wouldn’t mind dying to her music.”

you snort, thinking up another question. maybe you should ask him about why that megumi guy was so gloomy? nope, might get too personal. what about the reason he’s here? nope, you already know.

“why don’t you do any sports even though you’re literally physically gifted?” you ask curiously. there’s still a smile on his face, but his expression becomes more wistful. you didn’t accidentally hit a spot, did you?

“my grandpa is in the hospital,” oh shit, you think, “i visit him everyday and if i was on a team, i would have to go to practice at the same time.”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hit a sensitive topic, but that’s sweet of you.’

“i don’t mind. and i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

“no, it’s alright. let’s just keep asking questions then, okay?”

he nods.

in one hour, you learn that yuji itadori also likes karaoke, rice bowls, and that he’s just as bad at science than math. ironic. and yuji enjoys getting to know more about you, falling into easy conversation, becoming less of a nervous wreck. the more you speak, the deeper he falls into the trance and he silently thanks gojo for letting him get a closer look because you’re even better than what he could have imagined.

but the period is coming to an end and it’s time for him to carry off the last box of beakers to his side of the room. at least there’s time for another question and it’s his turn to ask.

“what’s your type?”

you place your fingers on your chin as you think for a moment, finding a common trait in every crush for a proper answer.

“i guess my type would be sweet boys. with pretty faces, like you, i guess.”

the response is nonchalant and you don’t think twice about it. maybe you were a little too tired to process how he’d interpret it or maybe a little too tired to filter yourself, but it slips out of your mouth like butter and you’re completely unphased. shameless, even.

meanwhile, the box drops to the ground and like before, every other noise besides his own heartbeat fades into the background, even the sound of shattering glass. heat creeps of his neck into his cheeks until his face is burning, his feet stuck in their place and his palms becoming uncomfortably sweaty. his mouth is wide open, but no words come out.

“yuji! we need to clean this, hurry up!”

your voice brings him out of his thoughts as he realizes what’s been done and immediately snaps back to carefully, but quickly, picking up the shards of glass and placing them in this box. “i-i’m sorry!”

“don’t worry. just leave the box on the counter and we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

maybe you didn’t quite realize what you had said or what effect you had on him during that time in the stockroom because you continue everyday as if nothing happened.

it’s been, what? a little over a three weeks? and sitting next to you still causes his mind to go to odd places, ones with you. he starts to notice little things about you, too. how your tongue peaks out of your mouth when you’re peeling another sheet of bubble wrap off of some glassware, how you only count in even numbers when you take inventory of the containers.

god, you were adorable.

“yuji?”

“yeah?”

“did gojo ever tell you that there’s no cameras in here?”

“no? i thought they had security cameras everywhere.”

“that’s only hallways and classrooms. there’s none of them here. do you know what that means?”

“what?”

his head is already turned in your direction, the perfect opportunity to lean in and catch his lips. it’s small and he’s hesitant at first, but before you know it, your hands tangle in his hair, bringing him closer to you. he tastes like something sweet, like cherries, and his lips are warm. one hand rests on your cheek, his thumb brushing against it endearingly. when he pulls away, both of you are panting for air, the packages long forgotten.

“this sounds bad, but i’m glad that you’re terrible at math.”

“thanks.” he laughs and admires the look of your heated cheeks and swollen lips before pulling you back in for another searing kiss.

sure. being in that room by yourself could be fun, a perfect break with menial tasks lacking human interaction. you were far too tired to be patient with other people. but there was an exception.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost.

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (One)

Chapter One: Wins and Losses

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

If you’d have told high school senior Y/N that she’d be working at the FBI after graduating college, she would have never believed you. Not only did she have zero interest in law enforcement, she also seemed to lack any athletic skills to back her up. She was nothing like her fiancé, who’d had his heart set on joining the bureau since middle school. She and Grant Anderson were friends in high school and ended up getting together during their junior year. Anderson proposed to Y/N during her second year of college. She’d graduated almost two years ago now, but the wedding date was unknown. They’d been dating for four years and engaged for another four years with the wedding nowhere to be seen. He’d been the first and only boy–and man, to ever pay her half a mind. To her, that was good enough. Hell, she’d been with him for eight years, if she’d wanted to leave him, she’d have left long ago. Right?

Imagine her surprise when he’d told her that his new boss, Aaron Hotchner, was looking for a receptionist for the BAU. Fresh out of college, landing a secure job? That was a miracle, and she really did have to thank her fiancé for it. But everyone around her was so cool and she was just…there. Her job was basically to sort through files, organize Hotch’s meetings, among other things like making reservations at the hotels the agents stayed at on their cases. 

The Agents of the BAU.

They were essentially the coolest people she knew.

First comes Agent Gideon, one of the founders of the BAU. His ability to read people scares her sometimes. How can one man’s beady little eyes have the ability to read people like they were some kind of book stowed away on a dusty shelf? A shelf only he can reach.

Then, comes Agent Hotchner, the unit chief. A stoic man with an even more stoic face. He’s a man who, to put it lightly, takes his job very seriously. On more than one occasion has she met his wife, Haley. They made a beautiful couple in her eyes and they’d just had their child, Jack Hotchner. She never knew how a baby’s face could be so wrinkly–yet so cute. Haley and Aaron were high school sweethearts, much like she and Grant. But that seemed to be the only aspect they shared. Despite his suffocatingly hard shell, Aaron was a loving man. That much was obvious. She wondered if Grant had ever looked at her the way Aaron looked at Haley.

Agent Derek Morgan, where to begin? He was tall, dark, and every bit handsome. His charming nature made all the ladies of the sixth (and fifth, and seventh, and eighth and–) floor swoon over him anytime he walked by. He is one of the bravest men she’d ever known. His ability to put himself in the place of the unsub was something she’d only heard stories about–but it gave her chills every time.

Next comes Agent Elle Greenaway, one of the most headstrong women Y/N has ever met. Her bluntness can come across as harsh, but she knew a woman in law enforcement had to stand her ground to be treated with as equal respect as her male counterparts. She admired her strength.

Agent Jennifer Jareau, or as Y/N knew her, JJ, was a kind hearted, compassionate woman who’s way with words absolutely blew Y/N away. The way JJ handled the media with such finesse was simply astonishing. She knew she could never string together the right words like JJ seemed to, up on those podiums, in front of all those nosy reporters. It was mind blowing to watch her in her element.

Penelope Garcia, or otherwise known as literal sunshine embodied in a technical analyst. She was the best at what she did, hacking, searching, filtering. It was a science, and Penelope Garcia made it look easy. She and Y/N had grown close since both of them stayed at the office while the other agents flew around the country, solving cases. They’d often spend endless lunches together in Garcia’s ‘batcave’ as she called it and was practically hellbent on teaching Y/N how to use Photoshop every chance she got.

And last but certainly not least, Dr. Spencer Reid. She’d never met a man with a more brilliant brain. He was known as the resident genius, the expert on well–everything. The man had an eidetic memory and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute. Is that not the most impressive thing on the planet? Nope, he just has to have three PhDs in three of the most complicated fields of study: mathematics, physics, and engineering, achieving all three before reaching 22 years of age. 

He had joined the bureau about a year after Y/N had started there. She could remember their first interaction like it was yesterday. 

He had been in and out of meetings before spotting Y/N at her desk, where she usually stayed during her lunch break, at least for the first year she was there. She was halfway through a cup of mixed berry yogurt when Spencer came up to her desk to ask where the breakroom was. Y/N directed him to the room and followed his gaze to the yogurt container in her hands before he left.

“Did you know that the origins of yogurt are pretty much unknown, although historians agree that there was no mention of it before 5000 BC? It’s thought to have been invented by the Mesopotamians.” He said as he pursed his lips and raised his brows, as if realizing he made a mistake too late.

“No, I didn’t know that! That’s super cool. You must be Dr. Spencer Reid, right?” She said, giving him her full attention, which made him slightly more nervous than he had been previously. He nodded, a shy smile on his face.

“And you’re…” he looked for her name holder, “Y/N Y/L/N.” 

She giggled and the sound activated some kind of blood rushing mechanism right up into his cheeks, “Yup! I’m the BAU’s receptionist slash Agent Hotchner’s assistant, you know, nothing fancy but I like to think I’m pretty good at sorting through files.” She raised a brow and gave him an adorable smile and suddenly Spencer wasn’t so nervous to talk to her. 

She seemed way more interactive and easygoing than just about 98% of the people in the building. He wondered if it was because she wasn’t an agent. Spencer also wondered if gaining a title like ‘Supervisory Special Agent’ would make him cold like the others, but then he remembered he has three doctorates and already introduced himself with the honorific. 

She picked up on his silence, “You know, you have nothing to worry about, I overheard Agent Gideon talking about you landing the job with Agent Morgan.” She nodded her head towards a tall, muscular man, who Spencer gathered must be Morgan. Spencer smiled back at her, her words easing even more of the tension he collected in his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, you should see the massive list of exceptions they have to make to let me into the field.” He said with a ghost of a smile on his face. She had to physically repress a laugh. And right then and there, the seed of a beautiful friendship was planted.

Fast forward to two years after that interaction, Spencer and Y/N became pretty much attached at the hip whenever he was actually in the office and not flying around the country catching serial killers. Their desks were quite far from each other, hers right near the glass doors of the BAU and his across the room right near the railing that had Hotch and Gideon’s offices as well as the conference room. It gave them both perfect views of each other, which they used to send each other encouraging smiles throughout the day, maybe a funny face or two. He always had a way of making her smile, she hadn’t felt the fuzzy feeling of friendship in years. Besides Garcia, Spencer was the only person who had made an effort to get to know Y/N. In the past two years, she’d say Spencer knew her better than anyone else, possibly even Anderson, but that was surely because he was a talented genius profiler…

Budget meetings at the FBI were definitely the most boring types of meetings in the world. She had to be there because she was the one making all the reservations at the hotels, but once they began talking about the jet and fuel consumption–Y/N totally spaced out. Spencer enjoyed the meetings, though. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Y/N would sometimes space out and let her head fall against his shoulder. The weight of her head brought him inexplicable comfort and joy. He hates it when people come near him, when did it become so endearing to him for her to trust him enough with such a simple gesture? He found himself attending the meetings and sitting next to her whenever he got the chance, hoping that one day, maybe, just maybe she’ll allow her head to rest upon his shoulder again. Perhaps it was pathetic, but he found himself feeling overjoyed at the thought of budget meetings, they became the only thing he’d look forward to. 

He wondered if this was how Anderson felt when she rested her head on his shoulder, but then his knee would start bouncing and he’d practically feel the envious monster growing in the pit of his stomach, so he’d stop. It certainly didn’t make it any easier to stop when it was so easy to look over and find Anderson leaning against her desk and flirting with her. Technically, he has every right to flirt with his fiancée, but that didn’t stop jealousy from coursing through Spencer’s veins violently.

The team had just landed last night, they were coming back from a case revolving around the famous actress, Lila Archer. Apparently, she’d had a stalker. Y/N couldn’t wait to hear the details of the case, she had watched almost all of Lila’s movies. She eagerly awaited Spencer’s arrival. Just then, she heard the ding of the elevator and saw a very sheepish -and flushed- Spencer with a very playful Morgan hot on his tail.

“Morning, pretty girl!” Derek halted his seemingly incessant teasing to greet her as they walked towards her. Spencer was oddly quiet as he tried to pass by, offering her a small, awkward wave instead of his usual smiley ‘good morning!’, but Derek grabbed him by the strap of his messenger bag. He made it his mission to embarrass Spencer as much as humanly possible when he woke up this morning. What Derek didn’t know was that Spencer wanted Y/N to be the absolute last person to know of what happened. Spencer shifted uncomfortably and was positive he was sweating more than he ever had in his 24 years of life.

“Morning, Derek! So, tell me all about it! Did you meet her? Of course, you met her, duh! What was she like? Was she a stuck up diva like her character in Wins and Losses or was she more down to earth?” Y/N questioned curiously with a hint of excitement.

“Oh, I think pretty boy here has all the answers you could ever wish for. After all, it wasn’t me who made out with a hot movie star in her own pool.” Derek laughed, eyes squinting as he clapped Spencer on the shoulder proudly. Neither of the two men caught the way Y/N’s face dropped. Spencer was too focused on looking anywhere but at her and Derek was too triumphant to look anywhere but at Spencer’s -alarmingly- red face. He attempted to clear his throat when the few seconds of stunned silence became much too suffocating. Derek turned back to Y/N just in time to see her collect her jaw from off the desk and morph it into a smile.

“Spencer Reid, you did what?!” She attempted to laugh in order to lighten the mood, hoping the two profilers wouldn’t pick up on her dis-ingenuousness. 

They hadn’t, thankfully.

Spencer’s shy eyes met her curious ones as he tried to imitate Derek’s proud smile,and he could have sworn he saw a sort of unfamiliar heaviness in her gaze, but it disappeared as soon as it came. 

Could it be? Was she feeling jealous? There’s no way, she thought. But what else could be behind the not so subtle burning feeling in her chest? 

“Um, yeah. She kind of pulled me into the pool with her…” he recounted with a small voice, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“And?” Derek said in anticipation, despite already knowing.

“Alright! We kissed a few times, what’s the big deal?” He huffed, turning to look at Derek and resisting the urge to punch him in the face for embarrassing him in front of Y/N.

Garcia suddenly appeared next to them, catching the looks between the two agents and Y/N’s shocked expression, “Oh! Are we talking about boy wonder locking lips with miss Lila Archer in her pool?”

Spencer’s face dropped, “How do you know about that?!” he all but screeched.

“I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere.” Garcia wiggled her eyebrows at Spencer before sharing a knowing look with Derek which led to a prompt punch to Derek’s arm from him which then led to an over exaggerated yelp of pain.

“I’ve also got photos!” Garcia said, quickly pulling out her PDA and showing Y/N.

“Garcia! How?!” Spencer exclaimed, but it was too late. Y/N was already scrolling through the photos, laughing.

“Spencer, you sly dog!” She laughed, though the situation awoke an unprecedented, seemingly underlying feeling of envy. Spencer rolled his eyes in embarrassment and stormed off in the direction of his desk, leaving the three of them behind. 

The rest of the day went by smoothly, although Y/N had to keep fighting against the way her chest felt tight every time she remembered those photos. She had a feeling she was never going to watch Wins and Losses ever again.

next chapter

feedback is always appreciated!!

[delaber]

Just Friends (Part 9)

Story Summary: After moving to America for a 3-month long internship, you meet two interesting characters on a boring night out.

Word Count: 4.6K

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, minor drug use, smut, slight dom!Rafa, swearing, and loads of British references (sorry not sorry lol)

Chapter Note: smut smut smut smut smut smut smmmmmuuuuttt

Tag List: lonelydance mysearchforgratification ramp-it-up blndspotting summerofsnowflakes exrthangel honeysucklechocolatedrippin captaintightpants58

Other Parts: See Masterlist

"What did I tell you?" He laughed as he closed the door behind him, "you don't have to take off your shoes when you're here."

"It's the polite thing to do," you smiled goofily up at him, "what if I stepped in something icky earlier."

"I suppose I'd have to clean the floor tomorrow then," he shrugged, his eyes still bloodshot from the joint, "it's a risk I'd be willing to take."

Easy to giggles, you shot him a laugh.

"You want a drink?" he asked you and held up his index finger, "a quick word of warning; my margarita game is off but I do make a mean Long Island."

You arched an eyebrow at him, "Long Island? Are you trying to get me drunk?"

He sent you a smirk, "Your senses are already dulled from the reefer. How much more could a strong drink possibly do?"

"Okay," you laughed, "Long Island it is then - I do hope it's better than the 'Rafa Special' that you made me on New Years."

"Ouch, you big bully," he pretended to be hurt, "I lay down my guard and show you my true self and this is what it gets me? Some ignorant European tearing apart my cocktail game? I'm telling you; if I had just an ounce of self-respect, you'd be in an Uber on your way home right now!"

"I guess I'm lucky that you're completely spineless," you shrugged.

"Did you just say that?" He put down the lime he'd been holding and sent you a bemused smile.

"Let me just check; uh yes I did."

"Say it again and I'll definitely throw you out," he took a step closer to you trying to look dangerous but failing miserably.

"You're spineless," you whispered.

"One more time for Big Rafa, come on," he motioned a come on sign with his hand, stepping even closer to you.

"Spineless," you squealed and ran away from him as he started running towards you.

"I'll get you for this," he chased you into the living room where he grabbed you around the waist and threw you down on the sofa. He sat down on top of you and grabbed your wrists, "say it again," he urged you, as he easily forced your hands above your head, pinning your wrists together with just one hand. It reminded you of the night after New Years and you became strangely aroused by it.

"Okay, I'll stop," you squealed as he tickled your sides, "just let me go."

He stopped tickling you and went completely still, "never," he leaned in and whispered, lips hovering dangerously close to yours, his right hand warm against your ribs. He could feel your fast heartbeat through your black t-shirt as you made a quick decision and lifted your head up to kiss him softly on the lips.

He gladly reciprocated your tender kiss, looking pained as you withdrew your face after just a couple of seconds.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, "I don't know what just came over me."

Rafa let go of you and got up from the sofa, "Yeah," he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry too," he took your hand and helped you up on your feet, "I'll go mix us those drinks," he said quietly.

While he went to the kitchen, you studied the guys' living room. You had only been in here once before and back then, you had been far too concerned with locating your clothes to really have a look around at the colourful posters and their personal belongings scattered around the room. Your eyes were drawn to a small shelf at the back of the room where miniature figures of Calvin and Hobbes stood. You took Calvin in your hand and examined him more closely before putting the figure back on the shelf, moving along to the next item; a gilded gramophone reading 'National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences, Daveed Diggs, Principal Soloist, Best Musical Theater Album - 2015, Hamilton (Original Broadway Cast)' along with what appeared to be a Tony award inscribed 'Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Musical: Daveed Diggs as Marquis de Lafayette/Thomas Jefferson, 2015 - Hamilton.'

You did a double take as you read the text on the two awards again.

Rafa came in with two drinks in hand, "I see you've found Diggs' awards," he smiled, handing you a drink.

"Are these real?"

"Very real," Rafa smirked.

"Why didn't you tell me? I had no idea!"

"I wanted to see how long it took you to figure out where you know us from," he shrugged.

"Were you in this... Hamilton as well?"

"Oh, god no," he laughed, "and by your tone of voice I'm guessing you have no idea what it even is."

"Not a clue," you shook your head and took a big gulp of the drink, "So let me get this straight: Daveed is a hardcore rapper and a Broadway musical star? I never would've guessed that!" you laughed.

"Yeah, remember the first night when you came up to us and you couldn't remember where you'd seen us before?"

"Of course."

"We thought it was a weird trick just to get us to talk to you. Ever since performing in Hamilton, Daveed has been dubbed as America's fast-rapping sweetheart," he rolled his eyes.

"Are you jealous?" you chuckled.

"Not the least. But we can never go out anymore without people feeling the need to constantly come up to him and introduce themselves. It was fun at first but now it's kind of lost its glory."

"So you thought I was a groupie or something?" You laughed, "yeah, your reactions definitely make more sense now."

"Sorry for being a dick," Rafa looked pained, "Sometimes it's necessary when you just want a quiet night out with your best friend."

"So you were a dick on purpose yet you still came over to me and apologised?"

"I did," he laughed, "I thought you were too sassy to just let go. Especially after I realised that you'd been completely innocent and that you actually thought you just knew us from work or something. It was kind of cute so I felt bad for acting like a douche."

"I still feel like I know you from somewhere else apart from that night though," you mumbled.

"Yeah, I know. Come here," Rafa said and took your hand, leading you to a room in another part of the house where you hadn't been before. The room was lined with different recording equipment and movie posters.

"What is this?"

"Our workspace," Rafa said matter-of-factly, "We record music in here or write lyrics, scripts for sketches or plays. You know. Anything creative."

"I've never met anyone with a workspace like this," you took in the room with awe.

"...and this," Rafa continued, "I'm guessing is where you know us from," he pointed to a poster titled Blindspotting with a laughing Daveed and a tough-looking Rafa facing you.

"Yeah! Yeah that's it! I remember seeing this at the movies back home," you said excitedly as you took in the poster. You remembered thinking that the two leads were cute even back then, "so you're a musician slash actor?" you looked back at Rafa who was smiling at you.

"I prefer creative genius, but whatever..." he hugged you from behind, "your term is just as good I guess."

"Why didn't you tell me that I'd probably seen you in a movie."

"You were so unfazed by me and Diggs. And I knew it wouldn't impress you so I kept my mouth shut and told Daveed not to say anything," he snickered from over your shoulder, "I wanted you to spend time with me because you like me. Not because I'm semi-famous."

"I can't believe you thought I was a groupie," you chuckled and leaned into his arms.

"You're so much more," he groaned. His lips brushed against your neck and he kissed you softly below the ear.

His movements brought you back to reality, "Rafa," you sighed, "I know you're drunk and high but we can't be doing this."

"Mmh..." he hummed against you as he pushed your hair aside, his lips still tracing along your neck.

Slowly, you turned around, his arms still around you. "I'm serious," you said.

"I know," he groaned and let his arms fall flat to his sides with a sigh.

"Maybe I should go," you said, "this was clearly a bad idea. And I have to work tomorrow."

"On a Saturday?" he arched an eyebrow at you, "or are you just saying that so you have an excuse to leave early?"

"As I told you; I'm not even halfway done with the project I came here to do, so I actually do have to work tomorrow," you booped his nose, "I'm probably going to be quite busy the next week to be honest."

"So I really won't get to see you?" Rafa furrowed his eyebrows.

"Minimally," you frowned back.

"Okay, I have an idea; since my place is closer to your lab, I'll cut you a deal; how about you stay over, I cook you a nutritious breakfast tomorrow morning and then I take you to work?"

"I don't know," you said even though you really wanted to spend the night.

"No funny business, okay? This time I'm serious," he grinned.

"You said that last time as well," you laughed, "and the time before that."

"Look, I'll even take the couch and let you have my bedroom. I just want to spend the last few hours with you if I won't get to see you for the next couple of days," he shrugged.

"Okay," you gave in, "on one condition!"

"Anything," he said honestly.

"You go for a dip in the pool," you laughed devilishly up at him.

"What, now?"

"Yep!"

"You're not serious?"

"As serious as a heart attack," you said as seriously as you possibly could in your high.

"Okay. If that's what you want," he sighed dramatically before he turned around and discarded his t-shirt in one swift motion.

"Oh, you're really doing this," you laughed as you followed him out to the pool via the sliding doors in the living room next door.

"There's a lot at stake," he said as he pulled off his sneakers and socks.

"So for this you take off your shoes?" you teased him.

"Shut up," he grinned up at you before his hands started unbuckling his belt, his pants falling onto the tiles with a loud clank.

"Okay, I was kidding," you said as he was standing on the edge of the pool wearing only his boxers, "you don't have to do this."

"Oh, I'm not taking any chances. I'm definitely doing this," he said before he took a deep breath and jumped into the freezing water. He emerged spluttering, "shit, it's so cold," he bellowed as he whipped his hair out of his face and took a few strokes, "are you just going to stand up there and admire me?"

"Oh, the deal was for you to jump in. Not me!"

"Boo, you chicken!" he grinned up at you.

"Well, you're not exactly making a single selling point."

"If you don't jump in, you're not allowed to sleep over."

"You're not serious."

"As serious as a heart attack," he grinned up at you, as he mimicked your words from earlier.

"Oh my god. I cannot believe you're making me do this!" You squealed involuntary but ended up taking off your t-shirt and jeans, dipping your toe in the cold water as you stood in front of the pool in just your underwear.

"Just jump in," Rafa laughed, "What you're doing up there is pure torture."

"Okay. You're right," you took a few shallow breaths before counting to three, jumping in the pool close to Rafa. As you emerged, you pushed your hair out of your face, "so cold!" you squealed, "why did we do this?"

"I did it for you," Rafa laughed, treading waters in front of you, "I actually don't find it as bad as I had anticipated."

"You stay then! I'm getting the hell out of here," your teeth clattered as you began climbing the ladder, a laughing Rafa following close behind you.

You were shivering as you reached the top of the ladder, desperately clutching your arms to keep what little warmth you had left.

"Hot shower?" Rafa laughed.

"Yes, please," you nodded and followed Rafa to the bathroom where he turned on the shower for you as you immediately started undressing, ready to step in as soon as the water turned warm.

"It'll only be a minu- Oi!" Rafa said and quickly looked away. He had turned around from the faucet only to be met by you standing in front of him wearing only your soaking panties.

"Oh relax," you rolled your eyes at him, "you've seen me naked before."

"That doesn't mean it isn't just as... exciting," he gulped, desperately looking at the ceiling, "Uh, there are towels over there and I'll - uh - I'll find you something comfortable to wear for afterwards, okay?" he edged out the door still not looking at you. From the other side of the door he bellowed, "Uhm, on second thought. You can just use my bathrobe - if that's alright with you."

"It's fine Rafa," bellowed back with a laugh as you stepped into the warm water.

You stayed in the shower for a couple of minutes until you felt the heat return to your fingers and toes. You quickly dried yourself off, and pulled on the only bathrobe you could find, assuming that it was Rafa's. "That was lovely," you said as you met him in his bedroom. He was wearing the same trackies you'd seen him in before. "No shower?" you lifted your eyebrows at him.

"We have a cold shower by the pool," he said slowly with a laugh, "and I desperately needed it."

"Oh how old are you?” You laughed at him, “you can't even see breasts without getting turned on?"

"Not when they're yours," his face reddened slightly suddenly matching his eyes, "and especially with your nipples all hard like that."

A cold shiver went down your spine. "Yeah, sorry," you ended up saying.

"Oh don't be," he grinned, "it was a marvelous sight that I'll definitely cherish when I'm alone in bed at night," he winked at you, "it just excited me... Excites me now just thinking about it to be honest," he looked away from you with a small grin, clearly uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Yeah me too," you admitted, "it feels stupid to not be allowed to touch when we're so close to each other in so little clothes."

"We could just say 'to hell with it'?" He smirked.

"No, Rafa," you said sternly as you sat down on the edge of his bed.

He sent you a challenging look, "...or we could - you know - just... talk about it if you want to?"

"Talk about what?" you arched an eyebrow at him. Your decision was non-negotiable.

"Just talk for a while about what we'd like to do if the situation was different," he shot you a wink, "That's innocent."

"No it's not?" you laughed, "Not at all."

"I know," he smiled at you, "I'm just trying to get creative. We have to work with what we got, you know."

"Friends don't talk about what sexual stuff they'd like to do to each other," you shot him a look.

"Hey - can we just cut the bullshit for a few seconds?" Rafa said quietly, his Adam's apple bouncing in his throat as he swallowed hard, "don't call us friends when we clearly aren't,"

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea," you looked at him carefully

"You keep saying that," he sighed, "yet you're still here."

You put your hand on his arm, "I'm having a hard time too, you know. You're not the only one who wants this."

He shot you a sideways glance, "why can't we just say to hell with it then?"

"Because I know myself and this is what I have to do if I want to return to England with a somewhat sane mind."

"Whatever you say," he groaned as he threw himself down on the bed, his legs dangling over the side.

You lay down next to him and you put your hand on his chest, playing with the straps of his hoodie. He pulled you close and caressed your back with his fingertips, "do you want me to go sleep on the couch?"

"You can sleep in here with me," you said softly, "I'm going to miss you the next couple of days."

He kissed the top of your head, "yeah, me too," he said, "the last time you stayed over, my pillow smelled like you for days. It was pure torture. But it came at a price; your hair was everywhere. It was like having a dog again," he laughed.

"A small souvenir," you laughed, "sorry."

"I forgive you. But only because you look so soft in my bathrobe," he brushed his fingers over your back, "do you want me to get you a t-shirt to sleep in?"

"Yes please," you said and let him go to his closet where he pulled out an old tee with the words Raiders written on the front.

"A pirate shirt?" you eyed the logo.

Rafa shot back his head and laughed whole-heartedly, "Damn girl, don't you dare disrespect my favourite football team like that."

"You mean American football team. Your favourite football team better be Chelsea!"

"I'll be partial to Chelsea in soccer if you're partial to the Raiders in football."

"I can pretend I like the pirates," you teased him.

"Oh shut up," he chuckled and walked towards the door, "I'll let you get changed," he said and closed the door behind him.

You disrobed and pulled on his Raiders shirt, glad that it covered you like a dress as you didn't have any dry underwear to wear. A short dress albeit, but still a dress.

"Are you decent?" Rafa asked from the other side of the door.

"Yep," you said and let him in.

"Ah!" he said when he saw you in the Raiders shirt, "my favourite girl sporting my favourite team."

"Don't get any ideas," you grinned as you crawled under the covers.

He stripped down to his boxers and joined you under the covers, pulling you close, "just a bit of friendly cuddling," he whispered against your neck, his hand trailing up and down your sides.

"Okay," you whispered back, enjoying his arms around you.

His fingers brushed from your waist and down your sides all the way below the hem of the t-shirt, fingers coming to a halt on your upper thigh. He lifted his head from his pillow and whispered, "are you not wearing any panties?"

"Uhm no," you said sheepishly, "they were all wet from the pool."

You felt the outline of a bulge emerging against your backside right before he pulled back from you with a groan.

You turned around and faced him, "I didn't mean to torture you on purpose," you snickered.

"I know," he said in a strained voice, "just give me a minute to calm down." He blew out some air and stared determined at the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him after a couple of seconds.

"I'm trying to remember all the players on the Raider's team," he said, "and I definitely try not to think about you on top of me."

A familiar warm feeling spread in your abdomen. Now you were thinking about riding him as well.

"Too much?" he looked over at you when you didn't answer him.

"Ehm," you cleared your throat, "no. No, it's a... nice image," you smiled at him, the heat between your legs growing more and more.

"It got to you too, huh?" he laughed at you.

"Uhm, yeah," you said, "it's probably because we're high."

"That Long Island didn't exactly help either."

"Definitely not. It's too bad we're not allowed to touch..."

"Yeah..." he agreed, "we could... you know... just go to sleep."

"Yeah..." you said. His suggestion from earlier about talking dirty to each other without touching flashed in your mind. It wasn’t as if it would break your code. “Or we could just lie here next to each other and talk for a while..."

"Yeah?" he looked over at you with an excited smile, "what do you want to talk about?"

"Definitely not riding you slowly," you grinned, "or your lips around my nipples."

He gulped, "Yeah, and not your mouth around my cock either. Let's not discuss that."

"Or how you feel when you're inside me," you breathed heavily.

"Oh fuck, no, no we definitely can't talk about that. Or how I'd start off by kissing you all over your body. All the way from the top of your head and down your neck, leaving small teasing kisses down your breasts and all the way down to your ankles. And then back up again to your little hotdog," he said darkly.

"Yeah!" you imagined his warm lips against your skin and felt the goosebumps emerge on your arms, "...and we can't discuss how I'd respond to your teasing lips by pulling your hair while I open my legs for you. Or what you'd do next.”

"Well... in that case, we probably shouldn't discuss how I'd bring out my tongue and taste you while my fingers were slowly working their way in and out of you," he panted. You let out a moan as you arched your back and Rafa continued, "yeah, and you'd moan just like that for me."

"But regardless of how good it felt, I'd still push you away from me and get on my knees in front of you."

"Fuck!" Rafa hissed beside you, fighting hard to keep his hands above the covers.

"I'd take you in my hand and lubricate your glistening head with pre-cum before I slowly move my hand up and down you a couple of times to warm you up."

"I'm already warm, love" Rafa chuckled.

"Good! I'd grab you by the root and I'd lick you all the way from the root to the tip, bringing extra attention to that particularly sensitive spot just below your head," you said slowly, "my soft tongue would be all wet and sloppy as I run it up and down your length while I maintain eye contact with you, showing you that you're in complete control of the situation. And I'd make sure to massage your balls as I continue to pleasure you with my mouth," you breathed heavily, "and you'd look down at me and caress my hair while my mouth was full of you, slowly bucking your hips bringing you further down my throat. And I'd groan around you as you hit the back of my throat, sending vibrations all the way up to your balls."

"Okay, fuck it, I can't take this," Rafa said resolutely and pulled the covers away to reveal the enormous erection tugged away in his boxers. He pulled out his cock and started stroking it slowly in front of you with a few shallow breaths. He shot you a look, "not... against... the rules," he panted as he continued to pump his hand up and down his length.

"Well, if you're doing it, I'm doing it!" you said as you spread your legs, your fingers immediately flying to your core as you looked at Rafa's movements. "What happens next?" you panted.

Rafa took a couple of shallow breaths before he continued, "I pull out of your mouth just before I come down your throat because you know I'm close and you beg me to fill you up instead. So I pick you up from the floor and throw you on the bed and you're looking at me with this hungry look. And I kiss your tits while I slide inside you. And you're so warm and so wet for me," he groaned.

You moved your fingers up and down your slit, fidgeting with your clit with your right hand, while your left hand pushed up the Raider's t-shirt and started massaging your nipple. A small moan escaped your lips as you imagined what Rafa was explaining to you, "and you fill me up completely," you panted, "and you turn me around before you slam into me from behind, smacking my ass and pulling my hair. And you're so good that I grow tight around you, begging for you to let me cum."

"Yes," he groaned.

"- and you pull my arms and fixate them around my back so you have the perfect angle to fuck me while I grow tighter and tighter around you as you slide in and out of me. And I feel this raw heat starting in my stomach and it's spreading fast to the rest of my body as you fuck me faster and harder than you ever have before. And you pull my hair and I moan helplessly for you."

Rafa started moving his hand faster and faster as he was looking at you narrating your own orgasm.

"- and when you finally let me topple over the edge, I scream out your name with my release like this; Rafa," you moaned, "oh Rafa".

"Fffffuck," you heard Rafa hiss beside you right before he came with a loud groan, cum staining his stomach and chest, "fuck!" he continued to pant beside you with his eyes screwed shut, cum still leaking from his tip. His hand was still laced around his throbbing cock, but no longer moving when he desperately opened his eyes and turned his head. "Fuck," he repeated when he looked towards you with your fingers still at work.

"Fuck you're hot!" you panted beside him, looking at him as you drew in sharp breaths, your fingertips slowly entering yourself.

Rafa's eyes flooded with lust once more, "Fuck this," he spat, "come here," he took your hand and pulled you on top of him, your back lying flat against his cum-stained chest. His right hand found your core immediately and he started working his long fingers in and out of you while his left hand was circling your clit.

"Not... part of... the plan," you panted on top of him while his fingers moved in and out of you, his lips kissing your throat and neck.

"Oh, do you want me to stop?" he said and removed both of his hands from your throbbing core.

"No!" you whimpered on top of him, moving around desperate for friction.

"Shut the fuck up then," he whispered darkly against your neck as his hands resumed their positions. He worked like this for a couple of minutes while you writhed and moaned on top of him, your walls tightening around his fingers as he kissed and licked your neck.

"Fucking cum for me," he whispered as he hit your g-spot repeatedly and sent you over the edge crying out his name with pleasure.

His hands moved slower and slower, until he pulled his fingers out of you, his palm travelling all the way up your body, coming to a halt as he cupped your breasts lovingly, "I could get used to this," he whispered, kissing your neck and sending shivers down your spine.

You stayed on top of him for a couple of seconds while he continued to caress your breasts and nipples, kissing your neck occasionally with small sounds of affection.

When you had come down completely from your high, you climbed down from him and positioned yourself under the covers. Rafa pulled on his boxers and snuggled up against you.

"That was not part of the plan," you yawned as he held you tight.

"It won't happen again. Now shut up and go to sleep," Rafa smiled against your neck

[arts-and-drafts]

Unexpected Delivery

(This is the start of the Big Brother AU! I made it in fic form since my hand was out of commission at the time!)

-

Cleo hummed absently as she finished up the last of the DNA samples for the cloning tubes. It was routine by now; she was nearly halfway done cloning the other hermits for her zoo, the growing duplicates catatonic in their seperate tubes.

Cleo thought there was nothing wrong with her quote "questionable" science, but the other hermits seemed uncomfortable whenever she casually brought it up. Which was fine! She was sure they wouldn't mind that she didn't tell them they were being cloned this time. She'd take great care of them! It'd be a great feature of the zoo.

Cleo poured the last sample into an empty tube, having already confirmed the cells were reproducing as expected. She gave a soft smile as the tube filled with the liquid she liked to call "human fertilizer", which would help the clones grow to their correct proportions in the span of a few weeks.

Cleo removed her protective lab gear, carelessly throwing her gloves on the ground. She wasn't alive, there was no danger of hazardous disposal. And her lab was entirely Joe-proof, so not even he could mess this up. There was nothing left to do now but wait.

-

Cleo started in stunned panic at the last tube. Oh no. No no no.

Instead of a recognizable hermit taking shape by now, it was a small, bean shaped fetus. Something was very very wrong.

The other clones were nearly finished, already clearly resembling Cleo's friends. But instead of a nearly fully grown adult, there was a developing BABY in the last tube.

Cleo was terrified. She had no idea what could've gone wrong. She swabbed each hermits individual bases EXACTLY so this had no chance of happening. What was she going to do?! It was too small to even see any definitive traits of who the parents could be, but even if there was, what was Cleo going to do? Just walk up to them and hand them their accidental test tube baby, sorry and good luck?

Cleo paused her panicked fidgeting. That could actually work. She did just successfully create a scientific breakthrough, accidental or not. Surely that was something no-one could be mad at. All things considered she should be very proud of herself, actually. How hard could taking care of a kid be anyway? Cleo found it relatively easy; that's why she was a teacher before she died, after all. She loved the little buggers.

Surely it would be fine. Everything would be just fine.

Cleo sat in front of the cloning tube, now an artificial womb. The soft green light from the tube shone on Cleo's thoughtful face, her eyes focused on the small little creation growing in front of her.

What a miraculous turn of events.

-

Mumbo was awoken in the dead of night by something banging on the door to his hobbit hole.

He blearily looked around the bedroom, unsuccessfully trying to blink away the sleep from his eyes. He saw the light from his son's charging cord gently pulsing in the corner of the room, Grumbot still soundly resting in sleep mode. Rain battered the glass ceiling of the two-room house, the trees along the coast lashing in the monsoon-like winds.

The banging at the door came again, and Grian stirred at Mumbo's side. "Whazzit." Grian mumbled without opening his eyes. Mumbo listened intently at the knocks.

"Zombie." Mumbo realized, Grian groaning in annoyance in response. "You geddit." Grian stated, waving a hand vaguely towards the direction of the door. Mumbo sighed exaggeratedly, resigning himself. "It's raining," he complained, but was met with pointedly fake snores from his husband.

Mumbo shook his head with a small smile, pulling back the blanket to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He yawned and stretched as he stood up, shaking out his hands before grabbing his netherite sword from the bedside chest. Zombies weren't terribly dangerous, but Mumbo doubted he could take one on without serious damage if he was sleepy.

He swung open the door to his hobbit hole, sword poised to strike, but stopped suddenly as he recognized Cleo's face staring back at him, sopping wet and holding a mess of blankets. "I guess I was right," Mumbo stammered with a small laugh, not knowing what else to say. "There was a zombie at my door."

"Very funny." Cleo scoffed, wrinkling her nose to signify no harm done. "What--it's the middle of the night, what are you doing here?" Mumbo asked, sheathing his sword and yawning again.

Cleo opened her mouth, but was instantly cut off by a massive thunderclap. The mess of blankets she was holding suddenly came to life, squirming and bawling its lungs out.

Mumbo stared as Cleo frantically shushed the thing in her arms, gently rocking it back and forth. "Is that a baby?!" Mumbo gasped. "I would love to come in, if you don't mind." Cleo said dryly, purposely ignoring his question.

"O-Oh, of course--get out of this weather, goodness--" Mumbo stuttered, moving aside.

"Hold this." Cleo said distractedly, shoving the screaming bundle of soaked blankets into Mumbo's arms after he shut the door to the raging storm. Cleo shook off the water like a dog, spraying Mumbo and his nice furniture with a shower of droplets. "Ack--Cleo, come on!" Mumbo complained over the wailing of the creature in his arms.

"It's fiiine." Cleo responded, wringing out her hair over the doormat. "You can't just say 'it's fine' whenever you do something," Mumbo muttered, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He turned his attention to the bundle in his arms as Cleo peeled off her soaked striped socks.

Mumbo pulled back the top covering of the screaming heap, revealing what he'd recognized from the beginning; a small human baby, very clearly newborn.

"Is that a baby?" Mumbo looked up to see Grian, out of bed and staring at the poor thing in Mumbo's arms. "Hi Cleo. Oh hi Grian! I'm doing great, thanks for asking!" Cleo flipped her hair back from her face and glared at Grian, the avian sticking his tongue out at her in return.

"Here--can you get new blankets, Gri? These are soaked." Mumbo asked, unconsciously slipping into Dad Mode. He freed the still crying baby from the soaking bundle, unceremoniously dumping the blankets on the floor.

Cleo moved to sit her wet butt on Mumbo's nice couch as he tried to quiet the baby. "Where--where did it come from? Why the middle of the night?" Mumbo stammered, wordlessly handing the child over to Grian, who had returned with clean warm blankets. The baby was dressed in a plain leather tunic, something Grian quickly replaced for an old nightshirt of Grumbot's. It was still too big, but at least it was dry.

Cleo took a breath, clasping her hands together on her knees. Mumbo and Grian sat on the couch across from her, the baby finally quieting from ear-splitting wails to snuffled fussing. "Please explain, Cleo. Who's is it?" Mumbo pleaded, moving a hand through his hair.

"Well, ah, it came from my lab." Cleo began nervously. "Yes, I have a lab." She interjected at Mumbo's surprised look. "And uh. Well, it's yours."

Grian snapped his head up from the baby, having the same shocked-slash-confused look as Mumbo. "Wh--what? Sorry?" Mumbo stammered. "We're both boys." Grian stated stupidly. "Men. We're men." He corrected, going red.

Cleo rolled her eyes. "It's not a traditional baby, dummies. It's a test tube baby. A--an accidental one." Cleo wrung her hands awkwardly at Mumbo and Grian's faces.

"How do you make an accidental test tube baby, Cleo?!" Mumbo exclaimed. He wasn't mad, just--well, extremely confused. "Why were you making a test tube baby in the first place?!" Grian continued. Cleo held her hands up in surrender. "I--okay--I'm making a hermit zoo exhibit! And I'm cloning you! For the zoo! And uh--well, THAT happened." Cleo explained, gesturing at the small being in Grian's lap. "I individually swabbed your bases, so--I'm not really sure how it happened?" Cleo stuttered.

Mumbo stared. "Cleo. We're married. We live together." Mumbo said, holding up his hand to display the ring Grian had made him.

Cleo stared back. "Oh. Well, that would make sense." She rubbed the back of her neck self consciously. "Cleo, you came to the wedding!" Grian stated incredulously. "You were my groomsmaid!!" Cleo winced. "Right. That's right. I remember now." She said apologetically.

"I--anyways. That baby is a perfect mix of your DNA, so--I mean, technically speaking, I managed to create life without the use of traditional means, so you should be not mad, you should be impressed, really." Cleo rambled.

Mumbo opened his mouth and then closed it again. His redstone brain was truly very impressed, actually, but his parent brain took over. "So you just--gave us a baby? We have a baby now, that's it?" He asked, his voice pitching.

Grian gasped quietly next to Mumbo, pulling his attention from an increasingly nervous Cleo. Grian was staring at the baby, who had finally quieted into idle murmuring. "He has your eyes, Mumby." Grian whispered, his voice catching. Mumbo leaned over, startled to see the same shade of red as his staring back at him. "Oh," Mumbo breathed, a strange feeling coming over him.

Grian held out his finger to the baby and was immediately grasped by the tiny thing's button-sized hand, letting out a coo of endearment and peeking the smallest of smiles. The baby was a naked newborn, hardly a day old, but Mumbo was instantly struck by how much the little smile reminded him of Grian.

Mumbo finally looked away from the baby to Cleo, who brandished a smug grin. Mumbo huffed in annoyance he couldn't bring himself to feel.

"Well...he needs a name." Mumbo reluctantly stated, silently accepting the new member to the family that Cleo had brought them. Cleo grinned wider, undoubtedly coming to the same conclusion that he had.

"Jrum--wait." Grian bit on a laugh. "We can't call him Jrumbot, Grian." Mumbo corrected dryly over Cleo and Grian's giggling. "Okay, how about Junior, then?"

Mumbo wrinkled his nose. "That sounds patronizing. And cliche." He disagreed. Grian hummed in thought while their unnamed son sucked on his finger.

"Okay, how about Juni? That's got a nice ring to it," Grian suggested. Mumbo smiled. "You're just saying that because you can't think of another name than Junior." He teased, letting out a laugh when Grian shoved him in response.

"I like Juni." Cleo piped up, visibly more relaxed after knowing they wouldn't be mad at her.

Mumbo looked down at their new son again, his bright red eyes now curiously swiveling around to everything he could see. He was so young, so small and fragile, and yet Mumbo could already see so much life in him.

"Yeah." Mumbo said, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat. "I like Juni too."

[newsiegirlscout]

Pow! Comfortember, Prompt “Reluctance to Sleep”, or, “We’ll pretend Scout is familiar with Volsunga.” 

Hugs and cocoa for @brushes-of-sage​, because I’m going to take the Harvard graduate of guesses and say they also need a bit of a push to rest well.

The hall was silent. 

Once confident the people of Corona were sedated, at least for the evening, Queen Rapunzel stretttched and bounded on light feet towards the servant’s entrance. What with the end of harvest season, quite a few disagreements had to be sorted out, but she’d done so to the best of her ability and satisfaction; sun, moon, and stars wouldn’t keep her from tackling her husband in a hug the second he walked in. 

So of course, the lingering scent of seawater and algae littering his grand uniform were hardly the obstacle. 

“Mwah!” she said with a giggle, throwing her arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek; “Did you catch the ruffians and thugs?”

Eugene snorted, polishing one of his sandy medals on a sleeve that was slightly less drenched than the rest of him. “Not since five, no. This nut, on the other hand? Pulled a combination slash-and-grab, then a bait-and-switch, and then tried to weight and sink their haul to an offshore cave right before the tide came in.”

Rapunzel whistled. “Wow! Where are they now?”

“In the treehouse with his daughters, if he knows what’s good for him.” he grumbled. 

The brunette laughed, like a tinkling of silver bells. 

Eugene paused to check his reflection in the nearest reflective surface, a suit of armor, and wince. “Where’s the kid? Still alchemizing?” 

She whistled, long and slowly. “Maybe? I told him he was off hours ago, though.”

The captain cocked an eyebrow. “Did you actually see him leave his lab?”

Rapunzel paused for no more than a moment before shaking her head, but moved to stand in front of the hall. 

“Not so fast, Captain.” she said, smiling, “You’re going to try to persuade him to go to sleep, and then he’ll say ‘Not now, Eugene, I’ve just managed to synthesize cobalt-bound thiolates!’ and you’ll say ‘Goggles, I speak three languages and I understand none of what you just said.’” 

Eugene laughed. “Aw, Blondie, the hand flip is definitely more his thing.”

“You just did it.” she said with a wink. 

“Sun, moon, and stars--”

“And thennn”, she sing-songed, fluttering her hands in an imitation of her royal engineer “He’ll say, ‘It’s important because of alchemy!’ and you’ll insist on seeing the testing trial yourself, excusing it to say you’re watching to make sure he has a second-hand witness account but really because you want to see it happen and use the alchemy words you’ve been reading up on, and both of you will end up playing mad scientist all night. Not on my watch!” 

Eugene chuckled. “Alright, then, what does her majesty decree?” 

“Reconnaissance.” 

*************************************************************************************************************

Varian yawned, inadvertently tipping over a beaker of liquid sodium silicate--which might not have been such a problem, perhaps, if not for the powdered cobalt. 

But now there was a fire, which was a bit of a problem.

On a reflex, he slapped the cuff of his flaming sleeve and grabbed the nearest bucket of sand to toss over the counter; only after the last of the chemical fire had been smothered did he allow himself a tired, wordless sigh, sliding down to the floor of his lab. 

Eugene, perched atop a cluttered workbench, sipped his drink with a bemused grin. “Tough night?” 

“Gah! Eugene!!” he said, flustered as he turned around and snapped to a salute, “Gahhh! If you want to know, you could just as--is that hot chocolate?”

“Sure is.” he responded with a wink, shooting him finger-guns, “Nothing like Rapunzel’s cocoa on a cold night like this, though I suppose you have just demonstrated an, ah, effective alternative for staying warm. What are you working on, anyway?” 

“Nanowire synthesis with cobalt-bound insulation. It’s important because….alchemy.” 

“Any progress?” 

“Not yet.” Varian responded, trying and failing to hide his longing glance at Eugene’s cocoa. “Is...is Rapunzel still out there?” 

Eugene nodded, taking another sip of his drink and inadvertently dotting his nose with whipped cream. “Yep, though if you don’t claim it now, I might just drink the whole pot myself.”

The engineer turned to face his sleeping raccoon, nudging him gently to wake him up. “Hey, bud, watch my lab for me for a second?” 

Ruddiger shook his head, giving the most exaggerated yawn possible. Varian stopped short of stretching, instead holding his hand out. 

“I’ll get you a marshmallow…” 

The raccoon batted one of his paws upwards.

“Alright, fine, two marshmallows. Deal?” 

Ruddiger shook Varian’s index finger and thumb, but as soon as the teenager left, he turned to Eugene, who withdrew three marshmallows from his coat pocket. 

“Three to lock the door after him.”

The racoon chirped, grabbing at the sweets greedily. 

“Ah-ah-ah, just one up front.” Eugene said, passing the marshmallow, “The rest”--he displayed the other two between the fingers of his other hand--”after completion.”

*********************************************************************************************************

“Oh, I forbade you, maidens-a, that wear gowd in your hair…” Rapunzel sang softly, wafting the scent of the hot chocolate as she walked. 

“Rapunzel?” Varian called from the kitchens. 

She sang the next line quieter, walking lighter and listening for his footsteps to make sure he was following her. Once he was within, by her earshot, twenty paces, she slowed and turned around. 

“Oh! Varian!” she giggled, pretending she hadn’t noticed him coming and passing him the mug, “I didn’t see you there...Eugene was going to drink all this hot chocolate, but I saved this one for you. I’m surprised you aren’t in the library!” 

He cocked his head, confused. 

“We just got a new trade from Koto!” she exclaimed, “Xavier says it’s pretty similar to Beowulf; it’s called Volsa--Volsahn--bleh!” the princess stuck out her tongue and giggled, “I can’t pronounce it very well, but I was just on my way to read it! Care to join me?” 

At the mention of Beowulf, Varian perked up, but though he seemed hesitant, he pulled away. “Sorry, princess. Thanks for the cocoa, but an engineer’s work is never done!” 

“Please?” she hummed, pulling his wrist gently, “Stay for the first chapter, at least.” 

Ruddiger twisted around his legs, hopping up on his shoulder and using one of Rapunzel’s hairpins to mimic swordplay. 

“Ruddiger!” Varian scolded lightly, “I thought I told you to watch the lab!” 

“He made a deal with yours truly.” Eugene said, coming up behind him and popping a marshmallow into his mouth, “Turns out the only lab hazard was me, thus science triumphs once again.” 

“Alright.” the teenager sighed, “Just the first chapter.” 

Ruttiger chirped happily, curling around Varian’s shoulders. When he wasn’t looking, the racoon chittered at Eugene, holding out his paw. 

Eugene passed over the other two marshmallows and shook his head. “The most honest deal I ever made, and it’s with a racoon.” he muttered. 

************************************************************************************************************

The first thing Varian noticed were the blankets on the rug, and immediately Eugene tensed.

“Sooo, I thought we could set it up like a little sleepover…” Rapunzel chirped, looking hesitantly at the boys. Both of them motioned to step out, sensing a plot, but she looked so sweet and sincere that they found themselves drawn in. 

“It’s just a story.” Eugene thought softly, “You’re an adult, now, just...put the kid to sleep, and finish patrol.”

Varian cast a desperate glance towards the door, but Ruttiger was already curled up on the down, his chest rising and falling softly on Varian’s lap. Chuckling, he gave a thumbs-up to Rapunzel at the same time Eugene complimented her idea. 

“The tale begins here of a man named Sigi…” she read happily, in a light and gentle tone, “...and his quest from Hrimnir the Great to slay the dragon Fafnir.” 

Unwittingly, unwillingly, Eugene leaned forward just a tiny bit. 

Quietly, Varian found himself drawn in to the rhythm of Rapunzel’s voice and decided perhaps he could stay for chapter two. 

*************************************************************************************************************

“Then son and father-in-law parted, and Siggier returned home with his wife.” she finished softly, smiling. Eugene yawned, and stretched, preparing to stand once measuring the even breathing of Varian’s chest. 

“I’ll carry him.” he said quietly to his wife, “Glad to see something could pull him away from his work.” 

“I don’t think so.” she sang softly, throwing her arms around Eugene and tackling him to the ground, “I think I could say the same about someone else who works himself to death.”

He laughed, trying to push himself off the ground. “Sunshine, I’ll always make time for you, but there’s still work to be done--” 

“And yet, it could wait long enough for you to watch your little brother.” she giggled, kissing his cheek, “Consider this an executive order, you make sure Varian stays right here, and I’ll watch after you.” 

Eugene smiled like the sun setting, relenting to the powers of his wife--it was an order from the queen, after all. 

Unwittingly, unwillingly, Eugene Fitzherbert fell asleep; 

Unwittingly, unwillingly, he was happy.

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Wicked Game (Part 3)

Word Count: 25K total The first part is about 5K, part 2 is 7K

Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.

Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.

Part 1

Part 2

Ashton jumped at the sound of the buzzer. Calum sent him a text telling Ash he was on his way so he knew he was coming, but he was so jittery it startled him anyway. He checked the time, 5:15 pm. 35 minutes to get here? That's good he doesn't live too far. Ashton held a bottle of cologne up and away from him, released three quick spritz into the air before walking through the cloud of fragrance. He made his way out of the bedroom, pausing for one final glance in the mirror. He brushed the soft brown curls off his forehead, his eyes reflexively checking his hairline. He silently thanked Hima for convincing him to get treatment. You could barely see the previously thin spots. Don't keep him waiting. You're ready for this.

Ashton opened the door and barely caught himself from gasping out loud. Hot Damn. His chest fluttered in a rush as his throat constricted. He didn't know where to look. Calum was holding a gift basket with three flavors of Ashton's favorite hot sauce but that wasn't what had his mouth watering. His eyes landed on Calum's hands holding the gift before trailing up to where his bronzed biceps disappeared into a crisp, red short-sleeve button up with one of those black tank tops he favored. His gaze lingered on the small gold necklace nestled against Calum's throat before dragging his eyes up to find the other man watching him with a shy smile. 

"Hima said this was your favorite," Calum blurted out, pushing the basket into Ashton's chest. 

"It is, thank you so much. Please come in," Ashton blushed hot pink as he gestured for Calum to follow him into the apartment. 

Calum got a whiff of Ashton's scent as he turned away from him, causing his spine to tingle at the memory of the missed opportunity that night in the club. His eyes followed Ashton's broad back, unable to resist a quick glance at his tight little butt. Hima mentioned her boss's daily yoga routine, and the black jeans he had on left very little to Cal's imagination. Pay attention Hood. You're here for an interview, not to get laid, he reminded himself. Por qué no los dos? a tiny voice asked that definitely wasn't from his brain. 

Ashton was equally grasping to get his thoughts together, but having Calum in his house made everything much more real.

"Go ahead and have a seat," he motioned for Calum to sit down at the bar while he entered the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? I have pink lemonade, mango infused sweet tea,  and wine." 

"Sweet tea sounds good. I'll have that if you don't mind," Calum sat on one of the tall stools facing Ashton in the kitchen.

Ashton garnished the drink with a slice of fresh lime, and Calum grinned as he handed it to him. 

"Always the artist," Calum remarked. "Hima was going on about that. She's very observant, and you're lucky she loves her job because she'd make an excellent reporter. I might steal her away yet." 

"Good luck getting past her mom," Ashton giggled. "All of them really, she's got a twin brother who's crazy overprotective and more cousins than I can count. My family was just me, mom, and the kids so it's a bit much." 

"Where's your family from?" Calum asked.

Ashton leaned against the kitchen island, his eyes fixed just above Calum's head. 

"I was born in Sydney, Australia. My dad fucked off when I was a baby, and my mom moved us around a lot. She got remarried when I was ten and had my brother and sister. We moved to the US soon after, and when they moved back I was a junior in high school, I decided to stay here. That's when I got a job in a kitchen doing dishes and grunt work." 

"Did you know right away you wanted to be a chef?" 

"Hell no," Ashton laughed. "I was miserable and living with three guys in a grimy apartment. I was trying to go to school and worked till close most nights. I got into a really bad fight with one of my roommates. He was a big, ugly bastard, ignorant homophobic piece of shit. He accused me of stealing his weed and attacked me. I was in the hospital getting stitches when my boss showed up and dragged me home with him. They put me up in the basement, bought me a bus pass, and he gave me a raise. Did you ever get to eat at Bordeaux?" 

Calum shook his head. "Never had the money or the clout. Didn't they sell it?" 

Ashton stepped up to the sink to wash his hands, setting his rings in a crystal tray on the edge of the windowsill. "Yeah, after his heart attack, his wife Brigitte made him give it up. She's a force of nature, that woman. She taught me everything I know about baking and pastries. Baking is when science meets art. Cooking leaves wiggle room; you can improvise. But baking doesn't allow for carelessness or impatience." 

He dried his hands before he pulled an object out of the fridge and placed it on the counter, unwrapping the plastic wrap. 

"I made mushroom Wellington for dinner, and getting the puff pastry dough right takes time. It's an all-day process because every couple of hours you have to roll it out and fold it so the butter gets folded layer over layer. That's what makes it rich, fluffy, and delicious. There's no way to shortcut that." He placed the pastry in a shallow baking pan and pulled a small bowl out of the fridge. "I'm brushing it with egg wash so it'll get nice and golden brown in the oven." He pulled out a small knife from the block and twirled it between his fingers. He narrowed his eyes, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he concentrated, making several small quick shallow cuts. He grabbed a couple of bottles and carefully sprinkled seeds and spices on the surface before looking back up at Calum. 

The intensity in the other man's eyes stopped him short. "Am I talking too much?" Ashton asked, feeling his face flush yet again. 

"No, not at all. I uh, almost forgot I'm supposed to be interviewing you," Calum stammered a bit, embarrassed to be caught staring. "So tell me, where did you go after you left Bordeaux?" 

As soon as the words left his mouth Calum wanted them back. That would be when he met Luke, you dumbass. Of course, his brain was a step behind his mouth. To his relief, Ashton shook his head with a sharp laugh.

"Yeah, that old story. Why don't you tell me a story I don't already know?" 

Ashton pulled another pan from the fridge and set it next to the oven. "Both of these have to bake for about thirty minutes. You can tell me a little about yourself while I make the salad. I don't like to talk while I'm using a knife, but I'm a great listener."

"Are those figs? I'm starting to think you're trying to impress me," Calum's eyes crinkled in a smile and Ashton's chest fluttered once again. 

"Maybe I am. Is it working?" Ashton spoke before he thought about it. Ooh, look at you flirting. 

"Oh it's working alright," Cal's voice took on a husky edge that gave Ashton a victorious little thrill, knowing he wasn't imagining the heat between them. "Do you need me to help with anything?" 

Ashton smirked, dirty thoughts racing through his brain. His dick twitched in his pants, eager for Calum's help, but then those dark eyes went wide as he realized what he said. The reporter nervously licked his lips and looked away while Ashton gripped the countertop to keep his knees from buckling. 

"I'm good, thanks," Ashton replied, needing to keep Calum at a distance if he wanted to have any concentration to make it through dinner. "Are you trying to get out of talking about yourself?"  He cut a thick slice off the largest fig, speared it, and offered it to Calum off the point of his knife.

Calum plucked it from the blade and popped it in his mouth, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he chewed. Ashton had to cough to suppress a whimper at the sight, his jeans now uncomfortably tight.

"One of the best things about being a reporter is not having to talk about yourself. My mom taught me to choose my words and my friends carefully. However, to be a good journalist, I have to be able to completely open myself up to each experience while not making it about me. I want to be the reader's guide to the story, not the star of my own show. I leave the primadonna bullshit to my coworker Felipe, or someone like Kevin Mackie."

Ashton chuckled, "Did you see his review of Anne-Marie's? Ass-kissing prick, he's banned for life." 

"Did you really throw him out of your restaurant? What did he say?,” Calum leaned forward, eager for details. “Hima wouldn't tell me. I wish I could've seen that." 

"She doesn’t know it all. I didn’t want to tell her, but he insulted her personally. He even managed to be racist and condescending while doing it. He's a twat. I was willing to grit my teeth and endure it because it's Mackie, and we all have to deal with him, but you’re not going to insult my friends. I can't even think about it without getting angry again" Ashton spat out the words and Calum's eyebrows went up in surprise. Ashton continued, trying to steer the conversation away from having to repeat the vile things he'd said. "You already know he brought up all the past drama and even asked me if I'd gone to the Galway Grill." 

"You're kidding," Calum couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously, though, that place looks awful." 

"It really does. You can tell they rushed the opening. Those tacky plastic decorations, if you thought Lune Rouge was gaudy," Ashton had to stop working because he couldn't stop giggling, which only got Calum laughing harder. 

"Did you see the fucking menu? The Irish puns, it's so bad. The best part is that it's not supposed to be awful," Calum said. 

"No, yeah, exactly it's supposed to be clever and fun, but it just comes off like a pretentious  dickhead." 

A loud alarm caught them off guard, and Ashton quickly silenced his phone and grabbed an oven mitt.  He checked the temperature of both dishes before turning them around and putting them back in the oven. Calum had the hiccups and asked for a glass of water between breaths. 

Calum hiccuped while trying to take a drink and began to sputter and cough. Ashton grabbed a towel as he came out of the kitchen and around to the other side of the bar. Calum covered his face and tried to catch his breath, but as he did, he became aware of Ashton's hand rubbing his back. His eyes still watering, he glanced over to see nothing but concern in the other man's face. Calum saw up close that Ashton's eyes seemed to shift color depending on how the light hit his face. He noticed the dimple on Ashton's chin and the rough patches of skin bearing faint scars from his teenage acne, the little bit of stubble under his bottom lip he'd missed when he shaved that morning, lips that were almost irresistibly close. Calum remembered he probably looked a hot mess and needed a minute to himself. 

"Can I use your bathroom?" He asked from behind the towel. 

"Sure, it's the first door down that hall," Ashton stepped back and let him pass. 

Calum closed the door behind him and took a quick look in the mirror. His face was still red but it was slowly fading. He took a piss and blew his nose before washing his hands and splashing some water on his face. The towel hanging on the rack was super soft and Calum could tell it was expensive even if he didn't recognize the brand. He took a second to look around, and while the rug looked as soft as the towels, everything else seemed to be made of bamboo. In fact, the only plastic Calum saw was a bottle of mouthwash on the sink. It was rude to look in the medicine cabinet, but he peeked in the shower. He smelled sandalwood and citrus, noticing they not only used the same brand of shampoo bar, but the shower enema attachment was identical to the one in Calum’s shower.  He began to worry he was taking too long, so he took another look in the mirror before opening the door. 

Ashton was setting Calum's salad up on the bar next to a fresh glass of tea when he sat back down. 

"Ooh thank you so much. This looks fantastic, is that feta?" Calum asked, suddenly realizing he was hungry. 

"It's actually honey-basted goat cheese. The dressing is a turmeric and honey vinaigrette. I like the extra touch of sweetness. I grew the lettuce in my little balcony garden out back, along with most of my fresh herbs." He stopped talking and watched Calum eat. He'd never seen anyone go through such a range of expressions while eating. He was clearly enjoying himself. Ashton felt like he was being intrusive for staring,  nevermind the thrill he got watching the other man's bliss. If he makes these faces while eating, I'm dying to see what he looks like when he's cumming, he thought.

Calum opened his eyes and caught Ashton blatantly staring. He met his gaze as Calum ran his finger along the underside of his bottom lip to catch a tiny drop off dressing from spilling down his chin and slowly licked it clean. He smirked when he saw Ashton blush and look away. Aren't you supposed to be working? A little voice reminded him, but he ignored it. "That was delicious, I can't wait to taste what's next."

Ashton smirked and started to reply when his phone rang. He started to hit ignore until he saw it was his mother. 

"Sorry, it's my mom. I have to answer this," Ashton swiped up to answer. "Hey Mom, hold on one second. I'm sorry about this," he said, covering the mouthpiece.

"Thanks, and don't apologize. It's your mom, I get it," Calum told him. 

"Yeah Mom, I've got company. Yes the interview, mmm-hmm, yeah. No, I'm home, but he's here. Yes, right now. No Mom it's not like that. I'll call you later. Love you too, bye." Ashton hung up and turned back to Calum. "Sorry about that." 

"Please, it's no big deal. I talk to my mom every day, too, and it's not like I didn't know you were a Mama's boy," Calum grinned. "Hima told me, and you did name your restaurant after her." 

"Hima talks too much," Ashton rolled his eyes with a laugh. "Yeah, my mom is my lucky star. We've been through a lot together, and she's the only one who's always had my back. I rely quite a bit on the women in my life, honestly. Lauren, my sister, is one of my best friends, along with my cousin Sophie. You've met Hima; Mom calls her my work wife." 

"I could see that," Calum teased, "until she opens her own place." 

"That's why I gave them a stake in the business. My mom suggested it. Hopefully, they'll want to stick around, maybe take over someday, who knows?" Ashton shrugged. 

"Mom knows best right?" Calum smiled, pulling out his wallet. He pulled out an old picture of a woman who could be his twin with a chubby-cheeked toddler on her lap. "This is my mom, Joy. She lives on the east coast now, and every morning my alarm goes off at 5 AM so I can text her good morning as she's having her morning coffee." 

"That's so sweet. You must be her favorite child," Ashton had the warm fuzzies watching Calum talk about his mom. The way his entire face lit up when he smiled melted him into a puddle. 

"My sister would agree with you, except she has Vanessa now, so she cares fuck all what I do," Calum said unlocking his phone. As soon as he did multiple messages popped up from his editor/best friend/total pain in his ass asking how his date was going. 

"Go away Sham," he mumbled, and Ashton looked at him and then his phone

Calum quickly hid the messages. "My editor, Sham. She's my work wife and constantly in my business." 

"Didn't Hima tell me she sets you up on dates? Like the pocket-sized lawyer from the club?" Ashton asked, suddenly jealous. 

"Hima talks too much," Calum grumbled, and Ashton lost it which set Calum off again. 

It took several minutes to regain control until Calum had tears on his face, and Ashton was about to piss himself. He excused himself, and when he returned, Cal showed him a picture of the same woman from the first photo only older in this photo, her dark hair streaked through with silver. Standing next to her was a young girl who was obviously Calum's daughter. They were both dressed in Polynesian-style floral dresses. She had the same dark flashing eyes, broad nose, and strong jawline as her father, but her face had a more heart-shaped appearance. 

Calum swiped to the next picture. "My sister, Mali, she's older and my best friend in the world." He pointed to the woman standing next to Vanessa, wearing a similar dress and tying a scarf around the little girl’s cloud of curly hair., The scarf was open a bit at the top, allowing her hair to work free of the silk forming a halo of curls for added effect. Whereas Mali had a bit of a sunburn causing her shoulders and cheeks to look pink against her warm golden tan, the sun had only added an extra glow to Vanessa's deep copper skin tone which was only highlighted by the vibrant blue and yellow pattern of her dress. 

"Your family is gorgeous. You definitely take after your mother. Your daughter is a real cutie, were you guys in Hawaii?" Ashton asked, curious about the outfits. 

Calum shook his head. "New Zealand, actually. Mom's whole family is from there. We went for a family reunion of sorts and so Vanessa could get to know her Maori heritage. She had a blast. We all did. Nicole came with us, and so did her husband. Well, he was her boyfriend then."

"Sounds like y'all have a good relationship," Ashton could tell Calum put his family above everything just as much as he did.

He swiped to the next picture and Ashton's jaw dropped. 

"Wow, that's your daughter's mother?" He looked up at Calum and he nodded. "She's beautiful and that bone structure, my God. The camera loves her, and you can tell she knows her angles too. Damn, you're gorgeous, but you leveled up there," Ashton didn't realize what he'd said until it was too late. He looked back at the picture to avoid looking at Calum. When you put Vanessa next to her mom you could see a strong resemblance there as well. 

Calum's ears burned with the compliment, and he was at a complete loss for words when the timer went off again, saving them both from the awkward silence. Ashton pulled the pastry out of the oven, flooding the room with a heavenly aroma that had Calum practically drooling. He grinned when he caught sight of the mushroom design Ashton had crafted out of paprika, coriander and sea salt. The mac and cheese was next, producing an insane cheese stretch from the pan to the plate as Ashton served it up. He finished the plate with a pile of oven-roasted celery and leeks topped with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and cracked black pepper. 

Ashton sat at the edge of the bar, at an angle from Calum so they could easily converse while keeping him steps away from the kitchen. At first, they were quiet, the food demanding their full attention, although Ashton had already decided watching Calum's expressions was his new favorite thing. The obscene amount of pleasure he took from his food had Ashton so distracted that he poked himself in the face with his fork. 

Calum was in heaven. He didn't know what cheese blend Ashton concocted, but he'd never had anything like this pasta dish in his life. The vegetables were still firm to the bite, and the fresh citrus was a nice contrast to the creamy, heavy cheese sauce. However, the mushroom Wellington was the real stand out, and Calum had never had anything like it. He opened his eyes and caught Ashton staring again. When he looked away quickly and his ears turned red, Calum was hopelessly smitten. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had cooked for him, and never, ever anything like this. He can cook, and he's handsome as hell, with a big dick and his own money?? He's definitely getting his dick sucked tonight. Calum almost burst out laughing hearing Sham's voice in his head. This time it was Ashton's turn to catch Calum staring, but Cal didn't look away. Instead, he gave the chef a wink and a smile before taking another bite. 

When dinner was finished, Ashton shooed Calum out onto the balcony so he could pick up a bit. He offered Calum an after-dinner smoke from his case of pre-rolled Raw cones. Ashton used to smoke weed all day long when he was a teenager before quitting cold turkey. The past couple of months, Rafi got him into a couple of decent blends to help him relax in the evening that didn't get him too wasted.

He made sure Calum was out of sight before quickly brushing his teeth in the kitchen sink. Ashton wanted to be prepared in case he got the chance to make a move. He'd even made a peppermint sorbet for dessert to cleanse the palate. He scooped out two small cups and topped them with freshly grated dark chocolate before heading out onto the balcony. 

Calum was sitting with his back towards the door, a small cloud of smoke wafting above his head. Ashton opened the door, and the cloud dissipated in the rush of cold air that followed him outside. Calum glanced back over his shoulder and offered the joint to Ashton as he took the icy treat from him. Ashton inhaled deeply one time before gently stubbing it out in the ashtray as he sat across from Calum. Overcome by nerves Ashton began to point out the various herbs and flowers in his little balcony garden. He could tell he was talking too fast, and his palms were sweaty but watching Calum eat ice cream might was obscene, 

The peppermint was stronger than Calum expected but left a lingering cool sweetness accentuated by the bittersweet chocolate. He scraped the cup, and ran his finger along the edge before licking it clean.  He shivered, and he wasn't sure if it was the chill from the sorbet or nerves as he tried to plan how to ask Ashton out on a date, a real one. 

Ashton abruptly stood up and walked to the far end of the balcony looking out at the city. Calum, sensing something was off, hesitated until he saw Ashton kept glancing at him and then looking away. He pushed himself up out of the chair and made his way over to Ashton and stood next to him looking out into the distance. 

"You ok? I can go if you want me to. I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Calum didn't know why he said it, but he suddenly panicked. 

Ashton looked up, stunned. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm just," he rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at the sky. "I-uh I got nervous."

"Oh?" Calum asked, his pulse picking up. 

"Yeah, I don't know how to do this anymore," Ashton mumbled looking at his shoes. "Kissing you is all I've thought about since the moment we met. And wow I said that out loud. Ok so maybe.." Ashton's sentence ended in a squeak as Calum's fingers brushed along his jaw and tipped his chin upwards to find Calum's face inches from his. He leaned forward as Calum's lips found his. The kiss was soft and slow, Calum's hands cupping his face as they melted into each other. Ashton's hands slid up Calum's chest before snaking around his neck and pulling him closer. 

Ashton felt as if he were suspended in mid-air, floating and flying as the heat grew in his chest. He had butterflies in his stomach as he pressed himself closer. He felt Calum's strong arms wrap around him, giving him a cheeky squeeze on his ass. They both giggled and pulled away for a moment to breathe. This time Ashton went in first, he'd been dreaming about this moment, and it was better than he'd imagined. He was relieved Calum wasn't trying to rush. Still, he couldn't resist pulling back to nibble on Calum's jaw before scraping his teeth along the hollow of his throat. The whine that escaped Calum's lips, as a result, was almost enough to make him cum in his pants.

"Let's go inside," Ashton took his hand, and Calum followed him into the living room. Calum sat on the couch and tugged Ashton's belt loop to get him to sit down. Ash started to sit next to him, but Calum shook his head and grabbed his thigh, guiding him down so Ashton was straddling him.

Ashton's head was swimming as Calum's gently bit his earlobe and ran his tongue along the curve of his jaw. He moaned and Calum growled in response, grinding his hips into Ashton's where his bulge strained against the fabric of his tight trousers. He reached up and began to unbutton Ashton's shirt, his fingers brushing against the cool steel of the chain he wore around his neck then dropped down, leaving a trail of fire in the wake of each touch. Ashton's breath caught in his throat as Calum began to ease his shirt off of his shoulders while peppering his skin with kisses.

"I should've shaved," he mumbled. 

"No," Calum assured him. "I like the chest hair," he whispered before scraping his teeth across his skin. 

Ashton moaned, his head rolling back as he concentrated on Calum's mouth and hands, his own fingers grasping the other man's messy black curls. He pushed Calum back against the couch, finding his mouth again and sucking on his bottom lip, electricity coursing between them. Music started playing out of nowhere and he was puzzled when Calum stopped kissing him and wrapped one arm around his waist to hold him in place while he fished his phone out of his pocket. 

Ashton frowned at the interruption and shifted his weight, sliding off his lap as Calum looked at him apologetically. "I'm really sorry, but it's Nicole. I think something's wrong." 

Ashton's annoyance was immediately replaced by concern. Calum reached over and squeezed his hand, giving him a smile as he answered the call. It was brief, and Ashton heard every word. Nicole wouldn't give details over the phone but Vanessa's school had called and there was to be a teacher-parent meeting the very next day. 

"I need you here. You need to be a part of this," she told him.

"I'm on my way," Calum replied without hesitation. He hung up, and Ashton could tell he was pissed and very worried.

"I hope everything is ok," he stood up and headed for the kitchen. 

"She's been having a problem with a girl at school. We thought putting her in private school would make her life easier, but these rich kids are nasty little shits. Where did you go?" Calum stood up and straightened his clothes. When he looked up, he was confused by Ashton's sudden disappearance. 

"I wanted to send you home with a doggy bag," Ashton replied, coming out of the kitchen with a paper bag in his hand. 

"I thought we ate most of it." Now Calum was really perplexed. 

He walked Calum to the door. "We did, but these are smaller versions I made for you to take home and cook yourself. I wrote instructions on a card that's in the bag, and there's a piece of flourless chocolate cake I made for dessert." He had to stop for a second and look away, suddenly shy at the way Calum was smiling at him. He took a breath and kept going. "I hate that you have to go, but it's sweet how much you care about your family. I had a really good time tonight, not just because of," he waved towards the couch, "you know, that. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. So maybe, I mean if you want to hang out sometime..." 

Calum reached out and brushed his thumb across Ashton's bottom lip. "You're so damn cute when you're nervous." Calum leaned down and gave him a soft kiss goodbye. "I want to take you on a date, a real one. I have to go, but I'll text you. Goodnight." Another kiss and he was gone. 

********

They were slow for lunch inside the restaurant. Daniel and Gloria were handling takeout, so Rafi and Hima were doing some extra prep for the weekend. She was helping make challah bread for brunch on Sunday when she spotted her boss gliding into work. She burst into laughter at Ashton's goofy grin despite the dark circles and bags under his eyes. Rafi saw him too and whistled and hooted until Ash flipped them both off and disappeared into his office. 

Twenty minutes later, Hima set a plate of cookies down on his desk. 

"We want you to try these. We're working on expanding catering to boxed lunches," she told him, sitting across from him. 

"We've been open less than a month," he told her, trying not to spit cookie crumbs everywhere.

"We're already doing decent business on takeout, so we're just floating ideas for new revenue streams as word of mouth gets going. The reviews have been glowing, and I've been monitoring social media. We've been getting good exposure so far. I've had some offers to trade a free meal for exposure, but nobody has been worth our time." 

Ashton nodded, as he'd learned long ago to trust her instincts. The cookies were perfect, absolutely delicious, but he knew that's not why she was in his office.

"How's my new stepfather? I've never seen you look so joyful, it's almost disturbing." Hima teased, but she was thrilled for him. Ashton deserved to be happy, and if she couldn't snuggle up to Calum “tall, dark, and handsome” Hood, having him as an in-law would work. Ashton took another big bite, chewing intently as if deep in thought. However, the blush creeping up his neck, not to mention the little hickey she spotted under his ear.

“So I take it the dinner went well. How was breakfast?" She asked, batting her eyes innocently.

"You're incorrigible, I swear," he laughed and leaned back in his chair. "He didn't stay the night. We kissed, but he got a phone call and had to leave." 

"That fucking sucks," Hima pouted.

"Tell me about it. It was just getting good when the phone rang," Ashton felt himself getting hard thinking about it.

"Oh God, your face right now. You're so lost. Were you in the kitchen? All Hallmark-movies-of-the-week style?" 

"No, I was straddling him on my couch if you may know," he told her just as she took a drink of water. 

She tried not to choke and succeeded in dribbling water down her chin as she sputtered. "The mental image I just got. I hate you, you know that right?" She wiped her face with a towel she pulled from her apron and then threw it at Ashton.

"He's really a great guy," Ashton giggled. "Have you watched him eat though?" 

"I know right, the faces," Hima almost yelled, catching herself and taking it down a notch. "I've never seen anything like it. Makes you wonder eh?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Seriously though, I'm really happy it worked out. You guys are gonna make such a cute couple. Now we have to find someone for me." 

"Why? Is Dakota not working out?" It was Ashton's turn to look innocent as he watched the comment land. 

Hima blinked rapidly before looking him straight in the eye. "I was not expecting that. How did you know?" She asked, but the answer came to her at the same time. "The cameras are on your phone. Am I fired?"

"Are you kidding? No, I'm just teasing, but yeah that caught me by surprise the other night," Ashton felt awful when she burst into tears. "You're not in trouble. Hima, look at me, we're friends. I'm not mad. I'm not going to tell your family." He came around the desk and pulled her out of her chair and into a hug.

Hima started to laugh, and he could feel her shaking in his arms. "Oh shit, sorry," she wiped away tears, as she eased away from him.. "I don't know why I reacted like that. I felt like my dad caught me lying and there was this rush of blind panic."

"I'm sorry, I was just fucking with you," Ashton didn't know what to say.

"I shouldn’t have done it, but I’m wanting to try things. But if I’m feeling guilty I can’t enjoy it.  Can I tell you?" Ashton nodded and she continued. "I met him on FetLife, more on that in a second. He's got a girlfriend, but he wanted to try something new. Maisie won't let me use her place to meet up when her roommate is there. I had fun, but I didn't feel good about it after so it's a one and done. Anyway, I'm pretty sure Calum is on FetLife. He has a pain kink, nipple clamps, and light bondage from what I saw on his profile.  I checked this morning and his profile was deleted. I'll send you the screenshot I took the first time. I don't know his tattoos, but you might." 

There was a loud knock at the door, and they both jumped. Rafi opened the door before Ashton could answer, and Hima was taken aback by how angry he looked. 

"You're not gonna believe this boss," Rafi said, a flush creeping up his neck. "Luke's here, he wants to see you." 

Ashton jumped up followed by Hima hot on his heels. Gloria stopped them in the kitchen, blocking Ashton's path as they began to go back and forth arguing in Spanish with Rafi and Daniel cutting into the conversation.

Hima was the only person in the room who hadn't come over from Lune Rouge and wasn't included in the conversation. She took advantage of the distraction to slip past them and out through the prep area to the bar. She was looking towards the hostess podium, not expecting him to be sitting two feet from her looking straight at her as she came through the swinging doors. She'd seen enough pictures to recognize him right away, but he was even better looking in person. His blue eyes were sad, and for a second she thought he’d been crying. He turned on the charm instantly, giving her his best smile and extending his hand. 

"I recognize you," he told her. "You're Hima, Ash's girl wonder. I've heard so many good things about you. I went to Johnson and Wales for a bit myself. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Hima instantly saw how Ashton had been so thoroughly bewitched by this man, and it amazed her that Luke had the balls to walk into their restaurant. She opened her mouth to tell him so when Ashton came out of the kitchen on the other side of the bar. Rafi came out and stood next to her behind the bar until Ashton glared at them and they ducked back inside.

"What do you want?" Ashton asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Listen, I didn't know how else to reach you," Like started.

"There's a reason for that. What do you want?" Ashton repeated the question.

"Can we sit down and talk, somewhere private? It's been so long" Luke whined, the sound grating on Ashton's nerves.

"Nope, I'm busy and I don't want you here. Please leave, don't contact me again," Ashton turned to go. 

"Wait its Mom," Luke played his ace card. "She had surgery. I'm worried about her." 

Ashton turned back around slowly, looking at Luke, who couldn't quite hide the triumphant smirk knowing he still had leverage over his ex. Ashton’s anger felt hollow now, not the gut-wrenching agonizing pain that once was there every day since he caught Luke cheating. It was gone, all of it. The realization was liberating. Knowing the seething hatred didn't follow him like a storm cloud, and the spell of attraction was irrefutably broken.  Ashton knew right then that he didn't love Luke anymore, and he couldn't ever get it back even if he wanted to. 

"Luke, your mom had her thyroid removed last Thursday. She's fine, we're having lunch next week. Get the fuck out of my restaurant," Ashton hissed.

Luke looked like he was going to start something, but Ashton stared him down, watching as he left the restaurant, got in his car, and drove away. He then pushed back through the kitchen doors, past everyone without a word, locked himself in his office, sat in his chair, and wept for almost an hour. The adrenaline rush of seeing Luke, the relief of knowing it was done, needed a release. When he was finished, he cleaned up a bit and finished the cookies Hima had left on his desk. There were a couple of text messages on his phone. The first was from Hima 

You ok boss? 

Never been better, I'll be out in a bit

Under that was Calum

Can't wait to see you again but I have to go out of town tomorrow. There's an event at the observatory for the meteor shower so I'll be up in the mountains. Let me pick you up Monday afternoon if you don't have to work

He did have to work, but Hima was off and she'd switch with him for this. 

Sounds good, let me know what time

I can't wait 😉 I wanna pick up where we left off before we were interrupted. I'm almost at school. I have to go to the principal's office, some things never change. Looking forward to Monday

Ashton read the message, not knowing how he was going to stand the anticipation. He got up to find Hima. e could not work Monday. This was too important. 

*********

Calum pulled into the parking spot, looking up at Ashton's building. He sent a text letting him know he was outside. As he waited, Calum glanced into the backseat at the picnic basket full of goodies Hima had helped him select. He'd sent her an email on his way out of town headed to where he would have little to no cell service. There was a little park that, if you knew how to wind through a subdivision full of dead-end and one-way streets, was about twenty minutes away from Calum's house. There was a duck pond next to a jacaranda tree that he'd always thought would be perfect for a date. He glanced up at the cloudy sky praying the weather held throughout the day. 

Calum wiped his palms on his jeans and took a deep breath. He'd been looking forward to this all weekend, even sitting in the observatory atop Mt Hamilton watching shooting stars streak across the sky. He'd been impatient to get back to Ashton. Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered.  The lyrics to a song he hadn't heard in over a decade bubbled up into his brain, taking him back to his grandmother in Scotland cleaning her kitchen and singing along to the FM radio above her sink. 

I'm wild again, beguiled again. Gran always told his sister to "find a brawny lad who can make you laugh and works hard." Calum grinned, watching Ashton emerge from his building wearing a green, long-sleeved Henley shirt and black skinny jeans that clung to his physique. Brawny lad indeed.

Calum turned the music down when Ashton opened the car door and climbed in. He was completely caught off guard when the other man handed him a small bundle from behind his back. Calum looked at the small bunch of plants tied together with kitchen twine and a small ribbon. 

"You brought me flowers?" He asked, feeling his face get warm. "That's so thoughtful." Calum's throat was tight, and he knew he was blushing crimson. He smiled at Ashton, trying not to get too emotional. He focused on the bouquet which allowed him to take a second to regain his composure. As he did, he realized this was unlike any bouquet he'd seen before. "Are these from your garden?" 

"Yeah," Ashton giggled, giddy and nervous. He shifted in his seat. He pointed to the small purple flowers on one. "These are chive blossoms, sage, and thyme." His fingers brushed the delicate white bell shaped blossoms. "Sweet marjoram, and this is borage, both great additions to a salad or stew. I added some daisies and rosemary for color and fragrance. I'm glad you like them." Calum looked up and Ashton looked away, shy again. 

"If you're trying to impress me, it's working. I love them, thank you," he said brushing his fingers along the back of Ashton's hand. He reached behind his seat and grabbed a handful of napkins and a cup out of the picnic supplies. He carefully wrapped up the little bundle and placed it in the cup. "We should get going before the weather turns on us." 

"Where are we going?" Ashton asked, buckling his seatbelt.

"It's a surprise," Calum winked at him. 

"How was the meteor shower?" Ashton asked.

"Out of this world," Calum shot back and they both erupted into laughter.

Ashton leaned back in his seat, watching Calum's face as he concentrated on getting through a construction zone. His eyes landed on a small faint bruise on Calum's neck. He felt his cock twitch in his pants at the memory of leaving the mark, knowing he had every intention of leaving more later tonight. 

 Calum glanced over, and this time Ashton didn't look away, instead giving him a wink and a sly smile before Calum had to tear his eyes away to focus on the road. He gasped when Ashton reached over and put a hand on his knee. Ashton jerked his hand back at the sound, but Calum caught it. He gave him a squeeze then placed Ashton's hand on his leg again, slightly higher than before. 

"Almost there, this place is a maze, but it's a nice quiet park," Calum made a series of turns and Ashton spotted the park up ahead. They passed the first parking lot near a playground where several kids were running around before making another turn and parking in a smaller lot. 

Calum got out and walked to the back of the Rover. Ashton came around right as he was opening the hatch. 

"What can I carry?" Ashton asked. 

Calum frowned and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had his phone set to only allow for two numbers to ring through.

 Ashton's heart sank watching Calum's expression. Please not another family emergency.  He felt guilty, but he wanted Calum all to himself today. 

"It's my mom, she's probably calling to chat but I have to answer. Give me just a second, I'm so sorry," Calum apologized. 

Ashton nodded and smiled, hoping it was nothing serious. "I'm a Mama's boy too," he reminded him. "I'll look around a bit." 

Ashton wandered off towards a lovely pond where he spotted a family of ducks swimming together. There was a tree overlooking the pond giving off shade and a little privacy.  He heard Calum laugh and say his goodbyes to his mom, and he was relieved to see everything was fine. The ducks quacked out a warning before turning and swimming in the other direction. He started to turn back to go help Calum unload the car when the first raindrop hit his nose. Ashton looked up as it started to sprinkle. As he headed back towards the parking lot the drizzle increased to a soft steady rain.  Then a streak of lightning split the sky with a deafening crack causing Ashton to almost jump out of his skin at the incredible noise. Unfortunately, this caused him to lose his footing and slip on the wet grass. He crashed hard into the ground and fell again when he tried to get up. Calum hurried over and reached Ashton just as he struggled to his feet, his left side streaked with mud and grass clippings sticking to his skin and hair. 

"Are you ok?" Calum reached out to steady him. 

"Yeah let's get out of here," Ashton snapped. "Sorry, I'm not mad at you." 

"It's fine, really," Calum opened his door for him before going to his side and getting in. "We'll go to my house, I live ten minutes from here." 

Ashton hesitated, not wanting to dirty up Calum's car, getting soaked standing there. 

"It's fine," Calum reassured him. 

Ashton thought for a second and then pulled his shirt, which got the worst of the mud, off over his head, wrung it out as best he could, tossed it on the rubber floor mat, and got in. 

Calum turned the car on and flipped the heat on low so Ashton wouldn't get chilled. He wanted to say something, make small talk, anything as they drove in silence. 

"I'm sorry about that," he began.

"Why? Rain is rain, it's not your fault. I might need to borrow your shower though. The grass is starting to itch," Ashton reached over and put his hand on Calum's knee again. Calum pulled it a little higher, and Ashton responded by sliding his hand all the way up Calum's thigh as far as he could go without actually touching his dick. Calum didn't say a word but Ashton smiled as he heard the sharp intake of breath and felt the car accelerate in response. 

They pulled up to a small bungalow at the end of a winding road as the rain started to pick up. Calum grabbed the basket and handed Ashton a bag and they both made a dash for the front door. They were greeted by Brutus barking and bouncing on his back legs at the sight of Ashton. Calum was stunned when the little dog launched himself at the newcomer’s ankles, immediately flipping over for a belly rub. 

"Somebody's friendly," Ashton cooed, leaning down to pet him.

"Not usually," Calum told him. "I'll get set up in here. Follow me, I'll show you where the shower is." He walked down the hall, Ashton and Brutus trailing behind him. He stopped at a closet and grabbed a couple of towels before opening another door. "This is the bathroom. I've got a couple different kinds of body wash, use whatever you need and I'll find you something dry to change into. You want a t-shirt or button up? Pants or shorts?" Calum asked trying not to gawk at Ashton's bare chest. 

Ashton shrugged. "Something that's comfortable and easy to take off sounds good. It won't take long. It's not safe but I've gotta rinse off."  The lights flickered and they both looked up. 

"You'd better hurry. I'll leave the clothes outside the door," Calum told him before leaning in for a quick kiss. 

Ashton frowned when he pulled back but Calum winked and disappeared into his bedroom across the hall. Ashton was tempted to follow but he needed to stop itching first.

*******

Ashton was halfway down the hall when the lights went out. He'd changed into the pajama pants and t-shirt Calum left hanging on the doorknob. He followed a soft glow until he found himself in the living room. Calum had set up some food in a spread on the coffee table, but he was nowhere to be seen. Ashton sat down on the couch and began to nibble on some strawberries when he heard a door slam and Calum came out wearing similar drawstring pants and a black shirt fully unbuttoned so the candlelight reflected off his bare chest making him look like a golden god. 

"Oh hey, that was quick. I didn't know how hungry you were so I put the cold stuff in the fridge. I thought you might want to have a drink first. I have wine." 

"Sounds good, we can eat later. I'm not really thinking about food right now," Ashton replied, food the furthest thing from his mind. 

Calum sat down next to him, handing him a glass of red wine. Ashton took a sip and recognized it as a German ice wine he loved that was not easy to come by. 

"How did you know? How did you find it so quickly?" Ashton looked up in disbelief. 

"My wife called your wife about the feature and next thing I know I've got a box on my doorstep with this wine and some salami I've never heard of. There was also a caramel brownie cake that looks like it's gonna go straight to my hips. I did my own research for the rest of it.  I know this date isn't going exactly how I wanted it to, but I wanted to make things special. At least the food will be good," Calum sighed.

"You didn't have to do all that," Ashton told him.

"Yeah I did," Calum responded. "You really went all out the other day. Everyone I’ve talked to while writing this feature has gone on and on about how kind and generous you are. You’re always put so much effort into other people and you deserve to have someone make that kind of effort for you. You're so warm and caring, and funny too. Anyone who doesn't see how special you are is an idiot," Calum stopped talking, afraid he'd said too much. He took a big gulp of wine only looking up when Ashton reached over to take the glass from his hand. He set both their glasses on the table and turned back to Calum. 

Without a word, Calum reached for him pulling him onto his lap, Ashton's knees on either side of his hips. Ashton slid Calum's shirt off his shoulders as their lips met with a heated urgency. Calum nipped Ashton's bottom lip before their tongues tangled. Ashton pulled back and grazed his teeth and tongue down Calum's throat. His long fingers traced around Cal's dark nipples before giving them a sharp tug. Calum grunted and bucked underneath him in response making Ashton try it again. Leaving slow sucking kisses down his neck pinching the stiff rosy buds after each one as Calum began to grind his erection up against Ashton. Breathy cries escaped his lips as he got more aroused, more desperate. 

Calum was tugging at the drawstring on Ashton's pants and slipping past the waistband. His hand closed around Ashton's length and he moaned in anticipation.  It was bigger than he expected and thicker than anything Calum had imagined outside of porn and his wildest dreams.

"Let me suck you off," Calum begged as Ashton continued to mark up his neck. 

Ashton shook his head, his soft curls brushing against Calum's jaw. 

"Can't let that happen, sweetheart," Ashton answered, barely lifting his lips from the patchwork of red welts and slight purple bruises. "I'll cum too fast if I let you put those pretty lips around my cock. I've thought about it so many times." 

Calum shivered as much from the heat of the other man's breath on his skin as the words he'd said. 

"Mmmm I like that," Calum hissed. He arched his back as Ashton's head dipped lower, sucking a trail down his chest and latching onto his nipple. "I've wanted this, need you, Ash." 

Ashton pushed hard against Calum's chest and stood up. Calum whined at the sudden lack of contact,  his kiss swollen lips pursing into a pout. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking up at Ashton who was peeling off his shirt revealing his lean physique, chest heaving with a sheen of sweat, tattooed flames peeking out underneath his ribs. Calum started to get up but Ashton stopped him. 

"Nothing's wrong, everything is perfect," Ashton told him, bending down for a quick kiss. "I wanted to take my time but hearing you moan my name like that is too much. Slide your pants down, let me taste you."  Ashton carefully moved the table back far enough they wouldn't bump anything as things got crazy. 

"Oh God," Calum gasped as Ashton kneeled between his thighs, tugging impatiently as he raised his hips and kicked his shorts off.

Ashton licked around the tip of Calum's cock feeling it twitch seeking his mouth. Calum reached for him but Ashton pinned his hands beside him on the couch. "Not yet," Ashton teased, fluttering the tip of his tongue along the ridge. 

"Oh fuck Ashton, please," Calum's eyes rolled back and his jaw dropped open as Ashton took him all the way down his throat. He had to concentrate to keep himself from exploding right then.  Calum tried to squirm away but there was nowhere to go. Ashton let up instantly.

"Are you ok? Do you want me to stop?" Ashton's hazel eyes were searching Calum's face.

Calum grabbed Ashton's hand and placed it in his inner thigh. "I don't want you to ever stop. I'm just trying not to bust too soon." 

Ashton grinned and leaned forward. His mouth hovered just above Calum's shaft, close enough he could reach out with the tip of his tongue, if he wanted to. 

"Don't want that to happen do we?" Ashton smirked, grasping the base of Calum's shaft applying pressure just above the balls and pulling it back away from Calum's stomach. 

"Keep doing that," Calum moaned, waiting until the pressure turned to slight pain. "Let go, let go," he cried and Ashton released his grip letting his dick spring back, slapping against his stomach. "Fuck babe, do that again," Calum whined, pulling his nipples his dark eyes intensely focused on Ashton.

Ashton flushed under Calum's stare feeling the knot in his stomach twist with desire as Calum moaned with each stroke, each release. They were both sweating now, the dim light giving Calum's broad chest as Ashton pushed up and met Calum's lips for a kiss. 

Ashton stood up looking down at Calum seated on the couch. Reaching down he cupped his hand around the massive bulge straining against his pants before pushing his hips towards Calum's face. His dark bushy eyebrows raised in a smirk Calum began to tease Ashton with nips and sucking kisses.  Ashton hissed at the feeling of teeth grazing his shaft through the flannel. Calum groaned against him as Ashton impatiently slithered the waistband down past his hips. Calum's mouth was on him in a flash, lips parted and taking him down past the back of his throat resisting the urge to gag around his length. Ashton cried out as his hands tangled in Calum's soft curls leaning his weight against Calum to keep his knees from shaking. 

Calum looked up at the man hovering over him, their eyes met and the need intensified. Ashton bent down for a kiss as Calum's hands reached up pulling his hips down once more. In between the flurry of passionate kisses and hands roaming and grasping desperately to feel as much of the other’s skin against their own Calum could barely gasp out the words.

"How do you want me?" 

Ashton's head spun at the sound of the words. He'd imagined this so many times, gotten himself off so many times thinking about this moment. Now that it was here he didn't hesitate to answer.

"I wanna ride you until you cum for me," Ashton told him.

Calum looked shocked and Ashton started to explain, "normally I'm a top but with you I thought-" 

He couldn't finish the sentence before Calum stopped him with a kiss. "Don't have to explain. I wanna try everything you wanna try. Let me grab something really quickly," Calum helped Ashton shift so he could get up. He grabbed a towel and pulled open the drawer on the coffee table where he'd stashed lube and condoms just in case. Ashton chuckled but his breath caught in his throat as Calum turned back towards him. Fully nude, the candlelight cast a golden glow across Calum's chest and thighs as he walked back towards the couch, sliding the condom on with a stroke and Ashton couldn't remember anything sexier.  They settled back on the couch with Ashton straddling Calum his knees on either side of his hips. Calum moved his hand down as Ashton raised his hips as Cal's fingers moved past Ashton's balls to tease his tight hole. 

Ashton sighed and relaxed back against Calum feeling himself being spread open as he worked another couple of fingers in. When Ashton had gotten used to the stretch he began to rock his hips impatiently and wanting more. Calum chuckled against Ashton's chest as Ashton took the lube from him and made sure Calum's cock was nice and slick before easing the head of it into his eager entrance. Calum held his breath, clenching his stomach and thighs to hold still while Ashton carefully worked Calum's length inside him. The pain gave way to a throbbing ache as Ashton began to rock his hips. Calum was thick, so he felt the most delicious stretch. Calum's hands roamed everywhere. He ran his nails along Ashton's thighs, stroking over the phoenix tattoo on his ribcage, and grazed through Ashton's chest hair before tugging at his necklace. Ashton's hips moved faster as he leaned back to balance his hands on Calum's thighs. Calum wrapped his hand around Ashton's cock matching thrust in time. There were no words needed as they moved together moans and groans punctuated with the occasional soft little sigh because it just felt so good. 

Calum's hips bucked and he knew he couldn't hold back much longer. Not with the way Ashton was bouncing on him now, his thighs pumping as he sought his own climax. Ashton leaned forward whimpering into Calum's neck, nuzzling and nibbling. His tempo increased, his nails dug into Calum's scalp and his long fingers pulled his curls. Calum kept one hand on Ashton's shaft while the other clutched Ashton's hip spurring him on. 

A growl ripped from Ashton's chest as his orgasm exploded from his core shooting electricity through every nerve ending in his body. Calum felt him erupt between their bodies spilling through his fingers and onto his chest. Ashton clenched around Calum's cock sending him crashing into ecstasy as Ashton's hips stuttered and jerked, milking every drop from Calum as he thrust up into Ashton, his eyes rolling back in his head. Ashton sat up pulling Calum's head into his chest, Calum's arms wrapped around Ashton's waist as they traded breaths and their heartbeats slowed back down. Ashton eased himself off Calum causing both of them to groan a little at the lack of contact.

Calum got up and staggered into the kitchen to throw the condom away and wash his hands.  He came back with a bottle of water for each of them, flipping the spout up before handing it over.  Ashton sat up and guzzled the entire bottle as Calum grabbed the towel wiping himself off quickly and tossing it on the couch.  Ashton excused himself to clean up and when he came back Calum had moved the table back by the couch and was munching on a cluster of grapes. 

"Sorry, but I'm always hungry after sex," Calum looked sheepish and Ashton noticed he hadn't bothered to get dressed yet. Not that I'm complaining.  Ashton ran his hand up Calum's thigh as he settled next to him on the couch. 

"Don't apologize," Ashton gave him a wink. "You need to get your strength back for round two." 

"Oh yeah?" Calum raised his eyebrows and bit into the fruit, letting the juices dribble down his chin. 

"Keep looking at me like that and see what happens," Ashton smirked but he was hungry too. 

Calum pulled a throw blanket and some cushions on to the floor so they could stretch out.  Ashton poured more wine while Calum grabbed the food out of the fridge. Ashton's mouth watered when he saw the espresso baked brie and the spinach croquettes. Calum had done his homework and Ashton was incredibly touched by the effort. 

Calum sat down with his back against the couch and Ashton propped himself up at a slight angle to him, close enough to touch, with the food places between them, their legs stretched out and tangled together. They ate in comfortable silence exchanging smiles and glances between bites. They found little ways to touch each other, unable to keep their hands off each other. Calum fed Ashton a bite of chocolate only to find the other man's lips pressed to the inside of his wrist. Ashton wiping crumbs off Calum's bottom lip before finding his thumb captured between Cal's teeth.  Calum laughed and started to say something but Ashton had spaced out on him. 

"What's on your mind?" Calum cringed when he realized he'd spoken out loud. 

"I'm trying not to think about things too much, it's never a good idea," Ashton admitted. He was already in too deep, whether he said it out loud or not.

Calum pulled Ashton in close,  folding the other man into his arms so his head was resting just above Calum's heart. Ashton closed his eyes, listened to the rhythm, and the rise and fall of Calum's chest. 

"I know what you mean. This is going to sound corny but I feel like I should be nervous, I'm not though. I really like you and I'm not going to try to find something wrong. I'm too excited to see what happens next." Calum finished his thought with a string of kisses along Ashton's hairline before adding," I have to Venmo Hima  $100 before I forget." 

Ashton pulled back laughing, he grabbed his phone off the table. "I can't say shit, she pulled the same scam on me." 

Calum laughed and leaned forward to get his phone as well. Ashton eyed Calum's bare ass noticing the slight tan line just above his hips. Calum saw his expression and wiggled his hips. "Like what you see?" Calum's tone was playful but Ashton could see his dick getting hard again. 

"I will take you right here Hood," Ashton growled reaching for a condom. 

Calum's phone rang, it was Hima on FaceTime. 

"Answer it, I dare you," Ashton pulled Calum onto his back and placed his hands on the back of Calum's thighs. 

"Hima, what's up?" As soon as Calum answered the call he felt Ashton's tongue teasing between his cheeks. He fought to keep a straight face as he told Hima about the disaster in the park despite Ashton probing and licking against his hole. Aston buried his tongue and Calum ended the call without saying goodbye and tossed his phone to the side. 

Ashton made Calum beg to be fucked before he finally relented and replaced his tongue with the head of his dick. Ashton kept Calum's knees to his chest as he took his time easing his cock into Calum's ass, adding lube as he went. Calum had never been with anyone this big and he pulled his own nipples as Ashton stretched him as far as he could go. The thrill of the pain was unlike anything Calum had experienced and Ashton made him beg before he pushed further. Calum gasped as Ashton bottomed out, seeing his arms flex as he held himself in place, the light reflecting off the red blood moon tattoos and bold black star. Ashton moved his hips, barely pulling out and rocking against his ass to hit a spot deep inside him that Calum never knew existed. The surprised moan that filled the room spurred Ashton to maintain that control, giving long slow deep strokes, and hitting that spot each time. 

Calum's hand closed around his dick, trying to keep from cumming before he was ready. Ashton switched positions, biceps curling around Calum's thick thighs as they moved together, chasing their climax together. 

Calum arched his back, his spine contracting and releasing slamming his hips against the floor. Ashton rutted his hips, pushing deeper into Calum. His vision blurred as Calum's name fell from his lips. Calum cried out underneath him and Ashton watched Calum's release spattering his chest and stomach with white streaks. Ashton collapsed on top of him shaking uncontrollably as he came undone. 

"Oh my God Ashton, that was incredible," Calum whispered when he found his voice again. They untangled from each other, both sticky and sleepy, overheated from exertion. 

Calum made sure the candles were blown up and there was nothing left out that could hurt Brutus before he led Ashton into the bathroom where they fumbled around in the shadows taking turns rinsing each other off and exchanging clumsy kisses.  Calum took them into his bedroom, pulling the covers down on the bed as the electric came back on. The AC started with a whoosh turning the room chilly very quickly. They scrambled under the covers quickly, fighting for the covers and giggling like little kids. There was a bit of awkward positioning before they ended up laying face to face unable to stop staring at each other, chatting for what seemed like hours, hands, and legs intertwined before they finally dozed off.

**********

When Ashton woke up he was alone in a strange bed. The smell of Calum tickled his senses and the bed was still warm. There was a light shining from the hallway. He listened and heard tiny scraping sounds coming towards him before a small dog burst into the room and launched himself on the bed. Brutus attacked Ashton with doggy kisses as Calum followed him into the room. 

"Brutus, get down," Calum scolded him. "Sorry about that. He needed to go out and I was trying not to wake you." 

"What time is it?" Ashton looked around for his phone. 

"It's a little after midnight, I can drive you home if you need to go," Calum offered, unable to hide his sudden disappointment.

"There's nowhere else I want to be, come back to bed," Ashton yawned and stretched out. 

Calum slid under the covers, cuddling into Ashton's body heat, Brutus curled up on the duvet between them. Calum rested his head against his shoulder and Ashton's fingers aimlessly snaked through Calum's soft dark curls. The rain began again as they drifted off to dream together.

@sublimehood​​​ @tea4sykes​​​ @be-ready-when-i-say-go​​ @scribblesos​​​ @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​​​ @wildmichaelflower​​​ @castaway-cashton​​​ @damselindistressanu​​​ @notinthesameguey​​​ @cashtonasfuck​​ @irwinkitten​​ @mermaidcashton​​​ @malumsmermaid​​​

[trickster-4]

Here’s a continuation of What Belos Fears.. It’s much less Crackish.. Sorry it’s what came out..

Emperor Belos had long since lost much of his humanity. The sense of taste was off to him at times. But here and now.. It was absolutely delectable. The smell of the cooked meat and the fried rice. He could definitely smell the special frijoles his mother usually made for him.. Just a small taste couldn’t hurt right?

*SMACK*

Henrietta Noceda was lightning fast at striking with her cane. She was fifty two years old and had her husband has been gone for a very long time.

Eda laughed at the sight while his ex employee Lilith smirked. His daughter Luz giggled along with her girlfriend Amity.. Willow and Gus on the other hand couldn’t contain themselves and began to laugh. Kikimora on the other hand gave them all a glare before giving her boss and annoyed stare.. His mother spoke to him with a stern no nonsense tone.. After all it didn’t matter if her son was six feet tall or ten he was still her son thus it fell to her discipline him for lack of manners..

“¡Nadie toca la comida hasta que estamos todos en la mesa!”

“Yes.. ma’am..” Belos brooded silently he turned to Kikimora who turned her away in a huff.. “I’m sorry..” He whispered..

“You were acting like the last fifty years of our lives never happened Belos..”

“I know… I’ll tell her it’s just..” He slumped before leaning to his assistant leaning towards her. “I’m trying to figure out how to stay in a friendship with Camilla.. I haven’t been with Luz for years.. I want to have a good relationship with my daughter..” Belos looked to Luz his daughter who had barged into the kingdom and shook it too it’s foundations.. “I want her to live on the isle for at least four years..”

“I see..” Kikimora’s eyes widened she was aware of how long it took to develop a magical bile sac.. And once it happened it was a permanent process. Though witches and demons experienced a number of benefits long lifespans, extreme durability, and magic. Yet there was a price to be paid so to speak..

““You wish to play the long game my liege?”

“Yes..”

A low magical environment played havoc on the senses of magical beings and they became sluggish, sickly overtime, and took more time to recover from casting intense spells until they returned to the demon realm. Contrary to his fears Witches wouldn’t lose their magic and could in fact produce more bile it just simply took time.. Luz was already changing Kikimora noted the slight imperceptible edge developing in her ears and nodded. “Very well my lord..”

Luz Noceda his baby girl wanted to learn magic. He couldn’t convince her to like him but perhaps he could quietly support her dream… And if the result of her studying for her dream meant she became a permanent resident of the demon realm and thus became closer to his sphere of influence well that’s just pleasant luck.

“Heheheheh..”

Luz moaned in annoyance and exhaustion at her father’s antics. Although this was actually par for course even before he discovered actual magic he tended to laugh maniacally whenever he was plotting stupid schemes.. Like the time her father cut the antennas of her mother’s brand new television in an attempt to improve it’s reception… That month Belos Noceda had flinch every-time Camilla walked around in chanclas.. Amity patted Luz’s back while letting her lean into her shoulder.

“Hijo, deja esas estupideces ...”

“Sorry Mama..” Belos replied with apologetic tone.. He then saw that Camilla had arrived sitting opposite of him.. He looked at her once more old feelings stirred affection, fondness, and delight. But the depth there was once for those emotions were gone.. He had moved on it was fifty years ago for him..

“So magic is real.. I’m happy for you but can you take off the creepy mask hijo?

“I.. It’s not pleasant to look at but fine..” Belos slowly removed the mask letting his face be seen. His face had become a greenish gray his eye’s sclera had long become black with the amount of bile his body produced now.. He wore a very masculine and attractive mustache..

Luz looked with amazement at the face that was often in her childhood dreams.. A gentle smile holding onto her finger.. Her eyes began to water softly as the memories began to come.. A single large hand came across the table as a finger caught the tear. She smiled softly but gently pushed the hand away not used to the affection and conflicted about who was trying to give it..

With his long black flowing hair and handsome face he was the epitome of nobility. His ears had become the same as his subjects. In the middle of his face was a slash sideways across his face.. He had long since gotten used to hiding such scars to portray an invincible man who could not be broken.. Though throughout all his enemies, Belos laughed, it was his daughter who had nearly take his eye..

“Wow I did not expect evil to look handsome..” Eda observed the tyrant king.. “So you were an electrican.. What’s that..”

“The equivalent of ward repair..” Belos angrily muttered in frustration and annoyance.. He hated his job as an electrician and would choose world conqueror over that any day..

“Ha!! That’s a Dead-end job though that’s hard to believe. I would have expected someone as smart as you to have gone higher in the human world..”

“Belos was always such a passionate boy about his dream.. He never felt an attraction to the sciences unless it pertained to his pursuit of the existence of magic..” As Henrietta spoke Belos took one of the tamales and began to unwrap it.. “He was convinced that magic was real and was determined to find it..”

“Yeesh..”

“He was also a huge D&D nerd..” Camilla noted with a look of annoyance.. Her entire experience with that one game she played was so horrible it completely made her give up on trying it anymore..

“Oh that’s not so bad..” Luz noted with a smile..

“He was a horribly difficult DM… Seriously a level twenty guard in the town you began at?”

“It’s not my fault the entire party was made of murder hobos yourself included!!”

“I was trying to have fun!!”

“Well D&D is also about strategy!!”

The two stood up and began to argue with one another.. It was a familiar occurrence one that Luz was starting to remember when a sad look grew in her eyes..

“I didn’t miss this..”

“Luz..”

*SMACK*

Camilla and Belos were both smacked in the head with a chancla so hard they were knocked back into their seats..

Luz sighed before face palming Amity was shocked at the sight of Luz’s grandmother knocking both Camilla and Belos into their seats.. Eda smiled and took another sip of her drink.. Lilith also smirked and reached for more of the wine to watch her former boss’s humiliation.. Willow and Gus were watching with interest and relaxed smiles..

Kikimora took a long gulp of her wine.. It was surreal what was happening before her eyes, but she already had her fill of it..

Henrietta slowly put the chancla onto her feet and then glared at them hard.. Luz was right there and she didn’t need to be seeing her parents at each other’s throats. There was a look of shame and fear in both parent’s eyes.

“Los niños no es así !! ¡No voy a permitir que discutas frente a tus amigos y familiares!

“Huh, your grandma seems to have good head on her shoulders plus she keeps him in check.”

“She really is amazing..”

“So Belos what’s this I’ve been hearing about you being a dictator on an island?” Henrietta eyed her son making him flinch in fear of her..

“I’ll answer that..” Luz spoke up with boldness in her voice. “For the last fifty years Emperor Belos ruled the boiling isle with an iron fist. He throws those who practice the wild ways of magic into prisons and forces a caste system…”

“Luz why?!” Belos suddenly felt like a shadow was being casted over his body.. “¡¿madre?!”

“Get in the kitchen..”

Emperor Belos sullenly stood up and followed his Elderly mother into the kitchen.. Luz and Amity flinched at the sound of Belos crying as Grandma Noceda disciplined her son… Lilith and Eda had a look of fear at the sound of the chancla.. Guz lowered his head in fear and Willow joined him not too soon after… Camilla took a sip of her wine and looking across seeing Kikimora’s glass was empty filled it up.. Incidentally she noticed the ring on her finger one that looked a lot like the one on Belos’s finger..

“How long?”

“Thirty five years..”

“I see excuse me…” Camilla smiled serenely she turned to a confused Luz and various guests.. “Luz sweetie please escort our guests to the guest room at the edge of the house.. We’ll be back in a moment..”

Later…

Camilla stood next to Belos helping him wash the dishes.. They were silently fulfilling their punishment for fighting in front of Luz and the guests after being reunited.. Grandma Noceda had forced Belos to release all of the residents from the Boiling isles from the Coven systems..

After several hours of conversation Belos was able to negotiate irrevocable terms of surrender with Lilith and Eda as leaders of the rebellion.. Continuing the war would have been devastating to the population.. So a compromise was reached Covens were voluntary and not mandatory with the option to transition to others there would also be no more more Coven Branding… Palismans would have more rights and legal defenses..

Belos would remain Emperor of the Boiling isles for two reasons the first was his supporters were powerful wealthy witches who could fuel the war for a long time…. The second was due to the religious factions being rather ardent in their devotion.. Still he would no longer hold total power..

A council would be formed between the leaders of the rebellions and Belos’s supporters.. Two thirds of that council would be from the rebellion.. Together they would decide new policies and laws and keep each other in check.. It would be a different government they would be making but one that would keep Belos’s supporters and the rebellion from killing each other..

“… I’m not moving back..” Belos spoke softly as he scrubbed the dish..

“I know Belos.. It’s been fifty years for you.. Life is not a novella I didn’t expect you to be waiting on a sea shore for that long..”

“.. I want Luz to move to the Boiling Isles..”

“..I wanted to her to spend time with you.. She deserves to know her father.. That said I don’t trust you to leave her in your care she may stay with Edalyn.. And you may visit her in a neutral location…”

“I understan-“

“Let me finish!” Camilla spoke with with vehemence. “I will also be living with Edalyn for the foreseeable future..”

Belos shivered at the thought of Camilla living so close by. But his daughter Luz would be living closely as well. He sighed and nodded that he understood.

Meanwhile in one of Grandma Noceda’s guest rooms…

“I can’t believe I forgot to tell mom that we’re dating…” Luz slammed her head in frustration against the wall.. She sighed in annoyance before lying down in the bed with Amity.. “This is gonna be soooo confusing…”

“It was a pretty tense day Luz..” Amity agreed with her girlfriend. “We’ll tell her when she moves in with Eda..”

“Ugh..”

“Hey Luz you know we’re in this together right?” Amity asked with a small smile..

“Yeah..” Luz blushed goofily as her girlfriend hugged her..

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Can I be THE FIRST person that asks for your offline h/c fic recs? 😍 hurt/comfort is my absolute FAVOURITE genre, especially if Sherlock is the one sick/hurt....I’m a terrible human I know >_

Hi Nonny!!

AHAHAHAH OKAY SO HERE’S THE THINGS:

 I just realized I lied and I HAVE actually posted some H/C fics before, so those will be below. I’ve Emotional Hurt/Comfort as well, but I’m going to assume that y’all are looking for Whumpfort, LOL.

I have a LOT OF H/C fics, and because of that, I have to split them up into manageable chunks, so I’ve currently 2 sets of H/C fics already sorted offline. Both are updates to other H/C lists I have, so I’m going to pick the longer of the two. This one has some nice shorter fics, so you can probably yum up this entire list in one day, LOL

And because you mentioned Sherlock Whump, I’ll link you to that list as well :D

So YES. I really gotta get my shit together and finally post all the chunks of H/C fics I have so that I have so I can finally remove that giant list from my Angst list LOL. ANYWAY, here’s what I’ve got for you today!!

HURT / COMFORT Pt.2: 5K to 10K WORDS

See Also:

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 1: Under 5K Words

Doctor / Caretaker John

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 2 

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 3 

Sherlock is Sick/Hurt (Sherlock Whump) 

Sherlock Whump Pt. 2

Angsty Fluff

Self Harm, Danger Nights, and Drugs

Nightmares, PTSD, Panic Attack, & Mental / Emotional Turmoil

Sick Fics Master Post (May 2019)

Bed-Sharing Between Flatmates by testosterone_tea (T, 5,053 w., 1 Ch. || 5 and Ones, Bed Sharing, PTSD John, Science, Whump, Insecure Sherlock) – 5 times Sherlock had an excuse to share John’s bed, and the one time he didn’t need one.

Winter of Life by You_Light_The_Sky (T, 5,178 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff & Angst, Magic Realism) – It was an experiment, really. On Christmas, Sherlock wrote to Santa asking for a friend. He got a broken toy soldier instead. This is the story of how he finds him again and again.

I think You Need A Doctor by TheGoodDirector (M, 5,254 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Sherlock Whump, Mistaken Couple, Humour, Platonics, Mary is Nice) – John’s not been to Baker Street in four months and returns to find a bleeding Consulting Detective. John can’t help but take care and put up with him. Set after The Sign of Three/Before His Last Vow.

The Refining Fire by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 5,451 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG AU, Angst, Friendship, Alternating POV (Lestrade, Mycroft, Sherlock), Worried Sherlock, Hospital Recovery) – Fire can burn things to ashes, but it can also burn things together.

Sleepless nights by El loopy (T, 5,467 w., 3 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares/Insomnia, Panic Attack, Worried Sherlock) – Sherlock has a nightmare and John wants to know what it was about. Set during season 1. Three-shot.

EMERGENCY CONTACT: Sherlock Holmes, RELATIONSHIP: n/a by blueink3 (M, 5,533 w, 1 Ch.. || Hurt John/3G, Fluff & Angst) – The first time John Watson’s emergency contact is called is the first time Sherlock Holmes finds out that he has the job. Part 1 of The Emergency Contact Series

Recovery by thesignsofserbia (T, 5,948 w., 1 Ch. || HLV-Fix It / Rewrite, Villain Mary, Pining Sherlock, Major Character Injury, Scars, Self-Hatred, POV Sherlock, Doctor John, Friends to Lovers) – Set after the confrontation with Mary, and Sherlock’s cardiac arrest, John stays at 221B to aid Sherlock’s recovery, forcing them to confront wounds both old and new as they try to heal their damaged relationship.

Not The Hands That Kill by You_Light_The_Sky (M, 6,201 w., 1 Ch. || Winglock, Whump, Mentions of Drug Use) – Having wings does not make Sherlock Holmes a guardian angel, not in the way that John Watson is his.

EMERGENCY CONTACT: John Watson, RELATIONSHIP: Saint by blueink3 (M, 6,229 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt Sherlock, 5+1, H/C, Caring John, Scars) – The first time Sherlock Holmes realizes he needs an emergency contact is the first time he mentally appoints John Watson with the job. John, of course, does not know this and neither does the local hospital. Part 2 of The Emergency Contact Series

Life and Death by patemalah21 (K+, 6,457 w., 3 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Sherlock POV, Sherlock Whump, Fun With Words) - Sometimes a small incident can lead to unexpected results. Sherlock and John explore their friendship. A bit humourous in this too, ends with a giggle.

The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.

When We Sleep by PrincessNala (K+, 6,660 w., 1 Ch || Post-TGG,  Alternating POV, Bed Sharing, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Hugs) – Sherlock needed to feel every beat of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was the only way to completely assure himself that John was alive and right there next to him, and not dead, no, never dead…

Bound Into the Fire by Tara Laurel (T, 6,672 w. || TEH, Suspense, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Bonfire Scene, John Whump, Mary is Nice) – “John sometimes compared Sherlock Holmes to the flaming beast in his mind…Not such a bad way to go, John mused. Being consumed by Sherlock. Dying in his fire. No. This was different. He was burning alive. Not figuratively. Not some flowery metaphor. Burning.” There was no two minute stay of execution. “Amazing how fire exposes our priorities.”

Lost for Words by notactivesherlockaccount (T, 6,709 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump, Temporary Mute John) – While on a case, John temporarily loses his ability to speak, and he and Sherlock have to find a new way to communicate.

A Kiss and a Cuddle should be Sufficient by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 6,853 w., 3 Ch. || Gay Sex Club, Fake Relationship, PWP, Orgies, Rimming, BJ’s, Violence, Case Fic, Voyeurism) – Going undercover, Sherlock and John pursue a vicious killer to a gay group sex party. Not unexpectedly, things get a little out of hand. Set after Baskerville, but before the Fall.

BANG by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 7,016 w., 3 Ch. || Post-TGG AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Worried / Scared Sherlock, Alternating POV, Whump, Hospital Recovery, Open Ending) – ‘I should warn you,’ Sherlock says, his voice steady and his eyes fixed on Moriarty. 'You are sadly misinformed.’ And he fires. Prequel to M Is For Moriarty

Not Alone by taliapaxton (K+, 7,034 w., 6 Ch. || Angst, Friendship, MCD, Euthanasia) – Alone on the Water from Sherlock’s point of view. Inspired by the wonderful fiction, “Alone on the Water”

Inconvenient Timing by TheMadKatter13 (M, 7,072 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega John/Alpha Sherlock, Romance, Public Heat, Scared John, Protective / Worried / Possessive Sherlock, Post-TBB AU, Caring Sherlock, Pre-Slash, Happy Ending) – When John’s heat failed to appear three times in a row after he was shot, he figured it was just another broken piece off the broken toy soldier. So he was rather surprised to feel it start out of the blue…and not at all pleased with it starting while he was on the tube.

In Which “John” Becomes a Synonym for “Help” by asignoftwo (T, 7,391 w., 1 Ch. || Injured John, Worried Sherlock, Fluff) –  After the fall Sherlock returns to Baker Street and is reunited with John. When John is injured on a case Sherlock is faced with the reality that he could lose John again, and it tears him apart.

Drowning in Darkness by chappysmom (T, 7,575 w., 4 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped John, Post-TRF Hiatus / Reunion, John Whump, Angst with Happy Ending, Depressed John, Background Case Fic) – He couldn’t decide if it was a relief or a curse that he’d been left completely, absolutely alone. You couldn’t fight darkness with your fists, and no matter how strong your will-power, it could be beaten down by the constant monotony of nothingness. Nobody needed John.

On Favors and Keeping Score by Ewebie (G, 7,622 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Fluff, John Whump) –  John woke up to the horribly unpleasant sound of his clock alarm. Which meant he’d slept through his phone’s alarm. And for a moment he glared blearily at the noisemaker before smacking at it with his palm. Ugh, he felt like rubbish. The back of his throat was burning with the irritation that heralded a proper dose, his nose was threatening to drip every few seconds, and he had the uncomfortable flush that normally suggested a fever. Nothing high, just uncomfortable. Nothing deadly, just irritating. Nothing worth calling in sick with, just a full day of discomfort in the face of other people’s discomfort. It was going to be a day where he was forced to bite his tongue from telling people off. “You’re not as sick as I am, so off you pop.” Part 7 of Tumblr Shorts

Sometimes When We Touch by kedgeree (M, 7,755 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Kiss/Time, Inappropriate Giggling, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Virgin Sherlock, John Whump, Touching) – John might be touching Sherlock a little more often than is strictly necessary. Sherlock probably hasn’t even noticed. Right…?

The Hours Before Midnight by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 7,773 w., 1 Ch. || TGG Fic, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture / John Whump, Kidnapping, Drugging, Alternating POV, Worried / Protective Sherlock) – Moriarty doesn’t play fair. John must deal with hours of torment from Moriarty before going to meet Sherlock at the Pool at the end of the Great Game and Sherlock must deal with the consequences of his boredom.

What Did I Do Wrong? by Starlight05 (T, 7,880 w., 5 Ch. || Hurt Comfort, Angst, John Whump, Hospitalization, Worried Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil, Nightmares, Sherlock Being Dumb) - After John almost dies on a case, Sherlock disappears. So John is left to figure out what he can do to get his best friend back. Meanwhile Sherlock, guilt-ridden and willingly alone, is doing everything he can to stay away.

Victim, Bait, Hero, Friend by KimberlyTheOwl (T, 7,887 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG Epilogue, Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Past Kidnapping / Torture / Implied Rape, Panic Attacks, Worried / Possessive Sherlock, Lestrade is a Good Friend) – Some insights into why John was perfectly willing to throw everything away for a chance to kill Moriarty at the pool. Trauma, ugliness, and finally healing. Some nice supporting work by Lestrade as well.

A Dangerous Mix by thebakerstreetgirl (K, 8,077 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Whump, Drugs, Hurt/Comfort) – During a case, John gets attacked and Sherlock and Lestrade find him with a mysterious drug running through the army doctor’s veins.

Beyond the Vow by tunteeton (M, 8,994 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending, Post-S3, Explosions, Mary is Good-ish?, 3G, Infant Death) – Being a sociopath was never this emotionally exhausting.

With This Ring by Quesarasara (E, 9,121 w. || Est. Rel., Marriage Proposal, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Embarrassing Hospital Visits) – Sometimes even the best of plans go wrong. And sometimes wrong turns out to be exactly right.

Five Times Sherlock Realized He Was Getting Older by Mildred Graves (T, 9,215 w., 6 Ch. || Five and Ones, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Old) – … And one time it didn’t matter.

Incapacitation by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 9,424 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Sick Sherlock, Doctor John, Appendicitis) – The doctor had just asked how bad the pain was when the pain spiked. Sherlock’s initial response was a gasp that evolved into a whimper. “Ten,” he gasped. “Ten…”

Drive by lifeonmars (M, 9,537 w., 1 Ch. || Virginity, Awkward First Times, Minor Injuries) – John and Sherlock are stranded by the roadside, and John is injured. They need to spend the night in the back of a humvee. Sherlock is confused. John is understanding.

[liaswritesrobots]

Hiya! Could i request brainstorm and his human crush gushing over his new invention when he blurts out his feelings for them? Thank you!

"BEHOLD!" Brainstorm shouts holding up a cube shaped contraption, "What do you think y/n?!"

"Iiiiiit's... square?" You give a confused smile.

"It's not square, it's a cube! And also a calculator! And a bop-it! And a video recorder and projector! And- and this is the best part- a gun!" He says closing his fists and bouncing eagerly, his wings fluttering, and a gleeful look in his optics that reminds you of a playful golden retriever. You're pretty damn sure if he had a tail he'd be wagging it.

"That's incredible Brainstorm!" And with that, you've done it, you activated his sleeper agent.

He strikes a pose, one where he stands tall and places his servo under his chin with his index digit out and his thumb pointed up with a look of pride, it reminds you of one of those stereotypical anime poses that a cocky but silly hero would pull right after doing or saying something impressive. His wings are still wiggling though.

You giggle at the sight and his optics shoot open, "Don't worry, I'm not laughing at you, well I mean, I kinda am, but like... not in a bad way." You say waving your hands.

A look of relief washes over him, then he goes back to excited as he rushes over to the table you're standing on and places the cube beside you, "Wanna see how it works?!"

He doesn't wait for your answer before he's showing you secret buttons hidden on the invention, showing just what to press for the calculator. He then presses a different hidden button and you hear "bop it!" to which Brainstorm proceeds to slap his servo down on the cube and you hear another "bop it!" He then presses another button, which transforms the cube into a rifle.

"I... you really meant it when you said it was a gun huh?"

"Yep! Cool right?" He asks, the look in his optics says he's awaiting your validation.

"Yeah. It's impressive how you made something that can transform like that. Did you use a t-cog to make it?"

"Yes! A modified one! It was in some junk Percy had laying around the lab, all broken and rusty, so I fixed it and decided to build something with it!" The tip of his wings are wiggling wildly now, they look like they could take off without him, "Of course I had to figure out what to make and what better than a gun slash calculator slash bop it slash video camera and-"

He continues on, beginning to explain all the scientific details, some of the words he uses are rather cybertronian in nature so you don't recognize them. You begin fiddling with the rifle, keeping away from the trigger of course. You accidentally press a button and it transforms back into the cube. A light blue screen displays above it and a recording begins playing.

It's Brainstorm, pacing back and forth in the lab and mumbling to himself. He looks so serious... so distraught. You can hear him say your name in the recording, and how he needs to make something that would impress you and make you finally love him the way he loves you.

The real Brainstorm scrambles and almost trips as he throws his arms across the cube, panic in his now wide optics. If he could sweat he'd probably be sweating bullets. "Ignorethatthatwasamistakethatwasn'tsupposedtorecordit'snotrealpastmedoesn'tknowwhathe'stalkingaboutyoudidn'thearslag-"

"Brainstorm?" You cut off his nearly incomprehensible babbling, "Do you... do you have a crush on me?"

He freezes, optics scanning the room frantically, a small vent of air leaves his mask, "I uh... maybe." He tries to be vague.

You smile at him, "It's alright. I have a crush on you too."

His optics focuses on you, no air leaves his mask this time. His spark flutters and his wings jiggle. Did he hear you right? Did you actually just say you liked him too. He hops up and makes a sound as if he were clearing his throat. You look at him, hoping you didn't mishear the video or that you've somehow upset him in your confession.

"HOLY SLAG REALLY!?" he shouts in a mix of shock and excitement.

You're not sure what you expected but it wasn't that, "Yes really." You laugh.

"Oh frag! This is happening! Oh oh I gotta tell Percy! Nautica! Chromedome!" He says with his servos on his helm, "Holy slag I didn't think it was gonna be this easy. Of course it's this easy! I'm brilliant! I don't know why I ever doubted you'd wanna be with me!" He says quickly pacing back and forth.

"Brainstorm." You once again snap him out of his thoughts, "Lean down."

He walks to the table and leans close to you. You stand up on your tip toes and grab his mask to balance yourself, you place a small kiss on the mask.

His optics practically have hearts in them as it feels like fireworks are going off in his spark. He scoops you up, bringing you to face level, "Do that again!" he says, "I'm gonna need more kisses for uh... science."

You laugh and comply, covering his mask with kisses as his wings go wild and he gets a content look in his optics.

[aizawa-wears-crocs-old]

88 for the Drabble challenge!!

thank you sm for the prompt!!! i really enjoyed this one, i gotta admit. have some fluff! (i know, i can’t believe i wrote something not-angsty either)

random access memory aka i use my limited knowledge of electronics as a thinly-veiled plot device

"I'm not going to lie to you. This is one of the most important lessons you'll ever learn, understand? This is a point not many pass through successfully. Your resolve will be tested. Your intellect will be challenged. The only question I have left for you," Tony says, expression flat and serious, "is are you up to the challenge?"

There's a pause.

Peter bursts out laughing, and Harley snickers beside him.

"Tony, you're teaching us how to solder a motherboard," Harley tells him through stifled chuckles. "This isn't a life-or-death situation."

Tony rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. "It might as well be, Keener. This is serious. If you two can't connect one up by the end of this session, I've failed you as your unofficial father slash mentor figure."

"How long is the lesson?" Peter asks, raising an eyebrow and grinning widely. "Because - Mr. Stark, I know I learn fast, but Harley might have some trouble if you go too quick -"

Harley elbows him in the side, and Peter suppressed a giggle as Tony says drily, "It lasts until I get bored of you toddlers."

"So about five minutes, then?" Harley quips.

Tony lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Yup, seems like that's going to be the case." He claps, and a smirk flashes onto his face. "Why don't you get out my lab now, then, if -"

"No!" Peter protests, at the same time as Harley backtracks.

"Wait, wait, I was kidding," he says hastily. Tony grins widely, and the other boy continues, "If you kick me out now I'll cry, Tony. I will. That's a threat."

"Okay, you can stay," Tony says. "Just don't actually cry, Keener. I'm terrible with crying children. I'm two steps away from being one myself."

"We know," Harley fires back, smiling smugly, and Peter laughs again.

"Harley," he says, shoving the other boy lightly with his shoulder. "Don't be mean. He's trying his best. Even if it’s not very good."

"Thank you, Peter," Tony says, and then, to Harley, "See? I'm trying my best. And I’m going to ignore that second part, thank you very much."

Harley's shit-eating grin widens, and he opens his mouth to talk when Tony claps loudly.

"Anyway. Let's do this, my science children. Gather round."

Tony turns around, and gestures grandly to the workstation before him. There's a bright green, half-assembled motherboard lying on it, circuit lines crisscrossing the entire thing.

"Behold!" he proclaims. "The motherboard."

Wow, Harley mouths behind Tony's back, exaggerating his expression, eyes wide and eyebrows high.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut and desperately tries to stifle his laughing.

Tony takes a seat on the farthest side of the bench, and Peter and Harley slide into the twin stools opposite him.

"Okay," Tony begins, placing his hands on either side of the board. "Pete, you've played around with this stuff before, haven't you?"

"Yeah, Mr. Stark," Peter says honestly, "but I don't... really know much. I just kind of guessed what went where to try and fix the last one of these I found."

"That makes me upset for all the motherboards you've been in contact with, Spider-Kid," Tony replies. "Keener, can you top his terrible mistreatment of past electronic components?"

"I've never touched one of these in my life," Harley announces proudly. "I'm a mechanic. We don't use electronics," he says, pronouncing the word in an affected accent.

Peter snorts. "Uncultured," he mutters under his breath, and Harley hits him lightly under the table.

"Neither of you know much," Tony acknowledges, "so we'll start with the basics before I teach you about the connections. Sound good?"

They nod. Tony takes a breath.

"Alright. So, this is all board, and we've got a bunch of components. Let me know if I lose you anywhere, alright?"

"Right, Mr. Stark."

"Good kid. So. You can replace and remix most of these parts, but we're just going to look at the standard ones for now before I teach you the fun stuff you can do by connecting them."

Tony points to a large white square in the center. "Parker. Guess."

"CPU?" he haphazards, and Tony smiles.

"Got it in one. Know what it stands for?"

"Obviously," Peter says. "Cap's Perfect Uniform."

Harley sniggers.

"Funny. This is the central processing unit for the whole board, alright? Most of our connections are going to pass through, or start, at the CPU." Tony's finger moves over to the other side, and ends up pointing at a series of metal plugs and ports arranged horizontally along the edge. "Keener, you're up."

"They're input/output ports." He winks, and Peter laughs.

"That's an inappropriate joke and I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Tony says, rolling his eyes. "Anyway. Those are pretty self-explanatory." He points at a vertical series of slots now, that Peter doesn't recognise.

"Now, I'm not going to expect either of you two to know about these. These are the RAM slots. They're -"

"Woah, woah, wait, time out," Harley says, frowning. "I thought this was from an electronic device? Why do we need slots for goats? Do they power the device? Do they -"

"Harley, I swear -"

"They're not goats," Peter corrects. "Goats aren't rams. They're different animals."

"Pete -"

"Bullshit. They're the same."

"This is -"

"Goats are different, Harley -"

"They're the same -"

"No, they’re -"

"STOP INTERRUPTING ME! Stop talking about goddamn goats!" Tony yells, and Peter collapses into laughter, arms wrapped round his sides as he bends over on the stool. He catches a glimpse of Harley doing the exact same thing on Tony's other side, eyes scrunched tight as he shakes with laughter.

"Oh, my God. Harley, shut up. Stop laughing," he wheezes. "You're making it worse."

"If you'd stop, Parker, I'd be able to as - as well," Harley argues, still giggling.

"You're both little shits, and this is both your faults," Tony snarks. "You're both five."

"Excuse me?" Harley says, sounding mock-offended through his sniggering. "I think you'll find I'm actually six."

Tony lets out a groan at the response. "That's it. I'm dead. You've killed me through sheer annoyance."

He leans back in his chair and slides off it, falling to the floor in a dramatic sprawl.

"Betrayed by not-actually-my-own flesh and blood," he laments, spread-eagled on the ground.

Peter and Harley fall right back into loud laughter, and then there's a click and they all stop abruptly. As one, their heads snap up to the doorway. Pepper's standing there, in her CEO-worthy suit. There's an expression crossed between concern, humor and absolute doneness. She stares at them for a few seconds.

Nobody moves.

"I don't want to know, do I?" Pepper asks finally.

"Pep, they're bullying me," Tony whines from his position on the floor, and her answering withering expression nearly brings tears to Peter's eyes as he laughs.

"Tony. They're teenagers."

"They're mean!" Tony protests. "They keep interrupting me."

"Tony," Pepper sighs in response. "Boys -"

"We didn't do anything," Harley says preemptively.

Peter adds, "We're innocent, Ms. Potts."

Pepper gives them a look. "Right. Well, I suggest you let Tony have a go at talking before he starts to cry."

Tony nods. "Yup. I agree. Let me speak. You don’t want to see me crying; it’s ugly, I can tell you that for free.”

Pepper rolls her eyes, a smile creeping its way onto her face. "I'll see you later, Tony," she says, and at that he frowns.

"Hang on - why did you come here in the first place? Not that I object to your wonderful company," Tony continues, winking at her, "but did you have something to tell me?"

Pepper opens her mouth, and hesitates. She scans her gaze over the three of them, clustered around the desk together, and she shakes her head.

"No," she says, "I didn't. It can wait until you're done here," Pepper tells Tony, and smiles broadly. "Have fun, boys."

Tony smiles back. "Thanks, Pep," he says, and she gives him a wink of her own before sweeping out of the lab.

The door clicks shut behind her.

"So," Tony begins, "shall we try again?"

"I'm ready if you are, Mr. Stark," Peter responds.

Harley shrugs, and grins. "Sure, old man," he says.

Tony raises an eyebrow. "And none of that? We try it straight this time - no jokes?" His expression switches to self-satisfaction then, grin widening. "Apart from mine, of course. My jokes are the shit."

"Language," Peter parrots, making Tony huff with laughter.

Harley tilts his head. "Light jokes, at least. I promise not to go overboard."

Tony rolls his eyes. "I guess that's as good a guarantee as I'm going to get, huh? Right. Well, we better get on with it. This is the RAM array -"

"Tony, I still don't understand why you need space for goats in this."

"Oh, come on!"

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 13

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvel-forever-17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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

Wade insisted he wanted to play games, and Pictionary was the lowest effort game they could get him to agree to with the least chance of him inflicting property damage or bodily harm. And, as it happens, Piotr and Rhonda were absolutely unbeatable at Pictionary. Piotr could convey complex ideas quickly, with his honed skills, and Rhonda knew well enough how he thought that he usually didn’t even have to finish his sketch on the big dry erase board before she guessed correctly. Rhonda herself wasn’t much of an artist, and though her inelegant diagrams were inscrutable to Wade and Cable, they were very clear to Piotr.

For Rhonda, playing a game felt nice, but a little strange and uncomfortable like slipping into old clothes from when her tastes were very different. Recreation in the Icebox had been limited to fighting rings, giving or receiving tattoos, and making and hiding the most extreme shivs. Of course she remembered all the times she enjoyed playing Pictionary with her husband, but she also couldn’t shake the last few years being dangerous to focus on anything without also checking over her shoulder every second.

Wade and Cable made a chaotic team. No matter what he was supposed to be drawing clues for, Wade mostly drew penises and added different clothes or props to them. The correct answers for all of Wade’s drawings were a stretch -- several penises with biceps were supposed to be the Summer Olympics. A group of excessively hairy penises was supposed to be the Amazon rainforest. A penis wearing a beard, a sweater vest, and a Rage Against the Machine tattoo was supposed to be a political science professor. And so on.

Rhonda shook her head with a quiet laugh, despite herself. For a long time, she was the most mischievous person Piotr would keep close in his life, and Wade was orders of magnitude more impish than Rhonda had ever been - even counting the time she smuggled in some weed brownies to eat with Ororo and Ilyana. As Wade drew a penis with insect wings that was supposed to be Jeff Goldblum, she thought he was an unusual choice of friend for Piotr. But then, Piotr had also started dating a telepath, so maybe he had a few changes himself that she didn’t understand.

Cable huffed, “That’s it. I wanna switch teams.”

“Fine,” Wade said, voice completely level, “but I get Colossus.”

Cable and Rhonda exchanged a cold glare, before the four of them rearranged on the sumptuous leather couches according to the new teams. Her chest was tight and it was getting harder to stay calm as she gripped the dry erase marker. Her hand absently found her neck and rubbed where the collar used to sit. Cable drew out his stick figure diagrams - he had precise geometry with perfect circles and straight lines. It took Rhonda a few guesses, and time almost ran out for their turn, but she eventually guessed correctly.

Piotr’s turn was next, to draw for Wade. He had only roughed in a few simple shapes before Rhonda was sure the correct answer would be Claude Monet, but Wade seemed determined to guess everything but the correct answer. Piotr had practically recreated one of the water lily paintings before time ran out and Wade shouted his last guess, “JURASSIC PARK!”

“NO!” Piotr barked, frustrated.

Rhonda looked at her prompt while her husband argued with his friend. She carefully considered the best strategy to draw this out in a way Cable would correctly guess. They set the timer going and she quickly got to work making a rough representation of a werewolf fighting a vampire. Cable floundered through some guesses that weren’t even close, so she slashed a big line through the first one. In another corner of the board, she made her best drawing of Hades from the Disney version of Hercules, with fire around him. She looked over at her teammate and saw his brows knit together so tightly he could hold a half dollar coin in the furrow.

Time was running out. Rhonda twisted her hand in a circle, urgently encouraging him to keep guessing. She started a third drawing with some blocks to represent a city street with skyscrapers, and an arrow pointing under the street, with a lot of crude dollar bills. When she felt the push in her mind, an unwelcome other-ness like sticky fingers crawling along her spine, she froze.

“Underworld,” Cable finally said with complete confidence, two seconds before the timer started beeping.

Rhonda clenched her jaw and capped the marker. She snarled, “Stay out of my head, telepath,” and hurled the marker straight at Cable’s chest.

The marker halted, frozen in space with Cable’s telekinetic ability. He plucked the marker from the air and stood, gently setting it on the coffee table. His gaze fixed on Rhonda in a hard stare. One eye flared with bright orange-gold light.

Rhonda couldn’t stop the fight-or-flight rising in her chest. He looked just the way he had when he came into the Icebox and started shooting up the place. He looked like every other inmate or guard who had set eyes on her with murderous intent.

She shifted her stance and some whispers of lightning laced over her clenched fists. They both ignored Wade chattering about the movie Underworld and how it was a cinematic masterpiece.

Piotr moved quickly to get between them, throwing an arm in front of his wife in case she lunged. He shook his head at the silver haired soldier, “Please, Cable, don’t press her. Leave my wife alone.”

Cable’s brows quirked, then softened. “You’re scared of me?” he asked, but it didn’t sound much like a question. He eased a step backward. “You’re scared of everyone,” he said with more certainty.

“STOP IT!” she yelled.

She flicked her hand. Wade cocked a handgun. Cable shifted and raised his fist, ready to deflect.

Piotr caught her around the torso, immobilizing her, and raised his voice, “Wade, Cable, no!”

But instead of a bright streak of electricity arcing through the air, only a few paltry sparks flew and died no more than eight inches from her fingers.

Cable was never in any danger from her.

Wade giggled, smirking, “What is that, a warning shot? Or are you about as vicious as a nine-volt battery?”

“Drop it, Wade,” Piotr was desperate to de-escalate. It was so unlike Rhonda to lash out like this. He regretted putting her in a room with his friends when he knew she was uncomfortable with Cable, and Wade could be an abrasive jackass who wouldn’t leave well enough alone. This was a mistake.

Rhonda tried to wrench herself from her husband’s grip, only managing to bruise her ribs against his arm. “Let me go,” she growled.

“[No fighting. Relax,]” Piotr rumbled in Russian close to her ear. He kept his tone calm with her.

She lashed out with her legs, trying in vain to squirm out of his arm. “[Take your hands off me, now!]”

“[Not until you relax.]”

Wade raised his gun, but didn’t point it. “Uh, should I…?”

“No!” Piotr and Cable said at the same time. Cable took a few steps backward, palms up.

Rhonda huffed, winded from struggling against a giant vice grip.

“I promise it’s airsoft!” Wade said indignantly, “Look.” With a soft hiss, a small plastic pellet hit Cable in the chest. Cable grunted and before anyone could respond, Wade puffed his airsoft pistol again and shot Rhonda in the forehead.

The sting was enough to startle and stun her, and she halted her struggle against her husband’s grip. Still, he didn’t let go until she mumbled through a clenched jaw, “I’ve got an appointment with Hank. I should go.”

Finally, Piotr released his hold around her torso and gave her space. She took a deep breath, wincing at her sore ribs. The floral paint on her right arm had cracked all over from the motion, and was flaking off to reveal the Xs lurking underneath. Without looking anyone in the eye or saying another word, she stalked off, snatching her cardigan off the couch on her way out.

Cable watched her go, and when the door to the lounge shut, he turned to Piotr. “That’s all she’s got, isn’t it? The sparks. There used to be more.” It wasn’t quite a question. He knew. He had read her dread and humiliation and disgust and heartbreak.

Piotr swallowed and forced himself to speak evenly, “The power dampening collars in the Icebox.”

Wade shrugged and crossed to a shelf that had a bowl of mints. He picked through them until he grabbed a half dozen that were shaped differently from the rest. “Hellooo my little friends! Daddy needs some Percocet!”

Piotr looked at the candy dish in horror. He quickly set to laying into Wade for hiding pharmaceuticals in the candy; Wade insisted it wasn’t a big deal since it was in an adults-only room, and he was probably doing the X-Men a favor.

Rolling his eyes, Cable politely excused himself and headed for the infirmary.

--

Rhonda’s follow up with Dr. McCoy went well enough. He didn’t ask her why she had shown up so early, nor did he prod her about seeming agitated. “Take things as slowly as you need,” he reminded her, “Your relationships with your friends, with yourself...it will all come back.” Hank gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded, but her jaw didn’t relax. Her gaze set on the paper bag full of medication for injuries and infections that hadn’t quite healed on their own. The paper crinkled in her fist. “Thank you,” she forced herself to speak.

Pointing at her arm, Hank said, “This looks nice. Piotr?”

Her expression flickered brighter when she followed his gesture to the flowers on her arm. “Yeah, we were playing with paint this morning,” she explained. “It was gorgeous when it was fresh.”

Hank watched her smile fade and fidgeted with his stethoscope. He went to the supply drawers and took out the spare lightbulb from a few days ago. “Try this again,” he held it out to her.

Rhonda heaved a sigh loaded with hesitation. “No.”

The doctor’s encouraging smile didn’t falter. “Why don’t you take it with you, then?” He set to putting it back in its flimsy cardboard box. “That way you’ll have it whenever you’re ready. When you can light this bulb, we’ll move on to other things. How does that sound?”

Crinkling the bag and letting out another slow breath, Rhonda begrudgingly took the boxed lightbulb. “It feels like I’ll be like this forever.”

Hank saw the chance to get her to elaborate, “Be like what?” When she gave him a pointed look, he didn’t push. “It will feel like that sometimes,” he conceded, “even when you know you’re doing better. I think it helps to remember you have a lot of people who love you, no matter what you’re able to do.”

Rhonda returned a weak smile. “Thanks,” she said, “I’ll try.” She gestured a loose salute with the lightbulb, and backed out of the office.

She almost backed right into Cable, but he sidestepped her and cleared his throat. Startled, she spun, ready to drop her things and throw punches right for his gut, but he took another step back and raised his palms.

“I want to apologize,” he began.

Her jaw worked, chewing on her emotions as she tried to remember she was home and to keep her manners. Rhonda took a moment to study the opulent wallpaper over Cable’s shoulder before meeting his eyes. “And?” she prompted.

“I have a...condition,” Cable gestured with his left hand, which was metal, but a little darker and less polished than Piotr’s steel. All the way up his arm and over his shoulder, the metal crept up his neck, where his skin puckered and pinched as it gave way to the metal. He continued, “I use my psionic powers to keep it from getting worse, and sometimes that makes it harder to control my telepathy.” He lowered his hands and let them rest on his belt. “I’m sorry I got in your head. There’s...some heavy shit in there. It’s harder to avoid than most people’s thoughts.”

The tension in Rhonda’s shoulders eased just a hair. “Most people can’t feel a telepath poking around,” she warned, “I can.”

Cable nodded, “So it’s hard for you to trust us.” At Rhonda’s sharp inhale, he added firmly, “That part’s obvious, ma’am, I don’t have to pull for it.”

“Ma’am?” she scoffed, trying to force herself to loosen up.

“Just tryin’ to be respectful,” he took a step to the side, starting to edge away. “And maybe,” he added, fumbling for words, “Try practicing to music.”

Her brows twitched together and she tilted her head. “Okay?”

Cable shrugged, “Just something my daughter would probably say if she met you. She used to say music made everything better. A lot of good advice.” He gave a warm smile that didn’t show any teeth, but made him look years younger and with half of whatever worries he carried now.

They exchanged curt nods and went their separate ways. With her meds and the lightbulb in hand, Rhonda headed to her room. She shook her head wondering why, as a dancer, she hadn’t thought of practicing to music herself.

[solipsistful]

Hey I recently participated in a conversation about magic with some other witches who put a lot of speech into justifying their belief in the supernatural as Science And Not Magic and I came out of it thinking you all have got to have Opinions about "science" as a Thing You Can Believe In and-slash-or as a counterpart to Magic and boy howdy I would like to hear about them as im failing to articulate my own thoughts due to giggling at the concept of witches shittalking People Who Believe In Magic

oh man that does sound like Quite The Conversation

ehhh let’s cut it, i’m rambling about things that are hopefully interesting but not coming to any real point lmao

there’s a lot of different definitions of “science” is the thing hah. usually when i say “science” (and definitely when i say “Science”), i’m referring to the collection of people/institutions focused on producing knowledge about the range of topics, and (in some general way) said produced knowledge. “believing in science” definitely evokes this kind of image to me.

another common definition, though, would be science as the process of scientific inquiry – whether you want to go as Formalized as “question-hypothesis-experiment-analysis”, if you’re including factors like peer review or (if relevant) randomization, or if you’re mostly just centering this idea of externally-verifiable empiricism

which, funnily, you’ve caught me very shortly reading some philosophers of science talk about early parapsychological research as being… potentially very relevant to how people think about that scientific process today. for example, if you’re someone interested in apparent supernatural abilities, but aren’t even sure if you’re observing a real thing deserving of being theorized about? how about invent experimental protocols like randomization and blinding?

of course, the way things haven shaken out, science-the-institutions has used science-the-process to find the empirical evidence for most claims pretty lacking, so i’m curious what these folks are aligning themselves with: “science because we’re using the(/a) scientific method” or “science because we’re pointing to scientifically recognized theories” (sighs in quantum mechanics)?

at the very least, i imagine the biggest Issue here is just about, like, plain old validity lmao. i mean, Science Is Real, right? you feel this aaaall the time in the social sciences, i think, us edge cases constantly trying to assert why we’re Really Science, because what good is linguistics if it’s not the science of language? what good is any truth unless it’s scientifically validated? saying you’re okay believing a non-scientific thing, especially one outside of a traditional barrier of “religion” i think, is… rough. see: me, Thomas, and Serpent’s constant problems with the lack of institutional backing for endogenic multiplicity. ._.

one way i try to respond to that is that this idea that empirical evidence is All That Matters is, uh, an idea (positivism, to be specific), and one that’s gonna fall apart once we’re talking on the level of very un-empirical things like the ethics of medicalization (as in the case of syscourse) or intention/personal meaning-making (chaos magic, which is the only real “form” of magic i have any nonzero knowledge of lmfao). but that’s harder to articulate than saying something like “there is a Science here, just not yet discovered/recognized/etc.” (and my position still holds that, yes, there still is a thing called empirical evidence, and it has its place: “doing this ritual gives me strength” is a subjective experience, not exactly amenable to or even needing to be held up to Objective Assessment; but say you can read minds and i’ll go “look, we’ve done plenty of experiments about this kind of thing already, and you’re claiming a pretty readily observable thing, sooo”)

actually that all reminds me of a very fun paper about another community very often concerned with Scientific Validity vs. non-science – Proctor’s paper about “the scientistic self” in otherkin communities. :V

anyway. those are my nearly-4am flailing thoughts. it sure is a Situation, though, huh?

- ace