#i literally thought about it all night at work

[darnell-la]

i crave more mob boss!wolverine

𝗢𝗙𝗙𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗗

pairing: possessive mob-boss!logan howlett x stripper!reader

warnings: kidnapping, forced working, strangers to lovers, stripping, spoiling, grinding, breast play, tit sucking, riding, orgasm, possessiveness, rough fucking, claiming, etc.

summary: y/n had no idea who the top boss was and what he wanted from her. She soon found out during an unexpected requested private dance.

note: Logan is a man who’s going to mark his grounds. He’s very territorial. Reading this story will make you understand…

———

How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

Working at a strip club was one thing when y/n first started the job. She was uncomfortable, but the ladies had made her feel welcomed.

Working for a mob boss was another; this time, she had to work whether she was comfortable or not. She tried talking to her boss, but his boss was the one who said she needed to relocate. There was no arguing.

Y/n tried to quit that day and soon found out how dangerous this man was. A few men had broken into her apartment, taking the lady with a fight.

She pled for help, but the people in the apartment knew whose men they were. They quickly went back into their own space and minded their business.

She now lives in a nightclub unwillingly. She wasn’t trusted by the top boss, so he made her stay where she would always be supervised.

This club was different than the last one she had worked at. It was bigger, cleaner, seemed more expensive, and the work she had to do was harder. She had never given private dances, but with her new schedule, she had to.

She’d never met the boss before. She demanded almost every day, but for months, Logan had sat back and ignored her requests.

When she first started at the other club, he hadn’t paid any attention to her because he had other things to worry about, but after he noticed her growth and the business she brought in, he decided to pay attention to her.

That meant he watched her dance, watched her have fun with the other girls, had people surveillance her outside of work, and maybe he’d do it himself if he had time.

The woman grew onto the man, so much, he couldn’t ignore her. He’d think and ask about her every day until too he finally told her boss, the man who worked for him, that she’d be relocating to his top club.

Y/n couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t being treated right occasionally. Her dances cost more, the private dances could pay her old rent, and she would get a daily allowance from the mysterious boss, which was double what she made in a week.

Anytime she thought about running away and making the higher-ups upset, she would sit back and think about her life, and the money.

She had no idea if this man was capable of killing her, and why would she run away from a job that gave her so much money, she could buy literally anything she wanted.

Y/n didn’t know this, but Logan would never harm a soul. Especially her. If she were to run away, he’d simply get her back.

“How long is this dance?” Y/n sighed as she walked in front of one of the VIP doors that was guarded more than usual. Usually, there are only two being on each side of the door, but tonight, the whole hallway was full of security guards.

“As long as he says,” the man replied to her with no facial expression. Y/n rolled her eyes as she opened the door to go in.

Once she got in, she saw a man in a chair, facing the other way. He was smoking a cigar and had a bottle of hard liquor sitting on the coffee table next to him.

Y/n closed the door before dimming the lights. She had no idea who this man was, as always, but she still continued her work.

Y/n pressed a button on the wall which turned on music for her. Her own playlist that she made to make her work against her will.

Logan, the boss would never allow any of his workers to do this, but for y/n, he exuded it. He wanted to make her feel comfortable without giving her up. That is why he gives her an allowance. Steppers don’t get an allowance from the boss.

“How do you want this session to go, baby?” Y/n asked as she came up behind the man, touching his shoulders softly as her lips slightly grazed his ear. The smell of her this close smelled amazing to the man.

“Touchy and slow,” the man said, making the girl walk around him until she was in front of him. “Good choice,” she smirked, knowing those are the best-paying sessions.

Y/n took a few steps away from the man and began stripping, slowly. She had this tight dress on she had never worn before. He picked that out for her.

“Slower,” he demanded in a soft and low voice. Y/n listened, pulling the straps from her shoulder as slowly as she could go with the music she had chosen.

Once y/n got the dress off, she turned around, showing off her body to the man. He had also picked the lingerie. He knew she’d look stunning in it.

“C’mere,” he said as he sat his cigar down and shifted in his chair. Y/n slowly turned around and walked towards the man who patted his lap.

“Sit,” he said, and she did as told, putting her knees on both sides of his outer thighs. “You can touch anywhere that’s not clothed,” y/n said as the man slowly placed his hands on her ass cheeks, gripping the slightly.

“Ain’t that so?” He softly chuckled as she began grinding her hips. “Mhm hm,” she hummed as she placed her hands on the man’s shoulders.

“What if I tell you I’m a special request? — A special guest,” he said, making her lean into his ear. “Then you’ll have to talk to my boss about a price change,” she said, knowing most don’t.

The man laughed as he softly traced his hands u the girl's body until she cupped her cheek, making her look into his eyes.

He was one of the best-looking customers she’s had. Tall, dark, handsome, muscular, actually smelled good, and the way he touched her almost seemed like soft and careful loving touches.

“Maybe I will,” he said, making her heart skip a beat. “I-I don’t know if he’ll allow it though,” y/n tried lying, and he knew that. “And why would that be, Bub?” The man asked as she kept grinding on him with soft but rough touches on his chest and shoulders.

“I don’t know,” she replied, making him chuckle again. “Lemme ask him real quick,” the man said before he closed his eyes shut. Y/n stopped her movement, confused about what he was doing.

She went to speak until his eyes finally opened. “He said, I can,” Logan answered for himself. “I don’t think that's how it works, baby,” y/n giggled, finding the man funny.

“Oh, but I do, Bub,” the man said as his hands slowly traced up her body until his fingers hugged into her bra. “Hey, if you wanna good session, you gotta follow the rules-“ Before she could say anything, the man ripped her bra off, clean.

Y/n let out a short scream as she covered herself up. “That’s it — Get out!” Y/n went to get up, but he gripped her waist tightly, keeping her in place.

“Why is that?” He asked with a smirk, liking how defensive she got. “If you don’t leave, I’m gonna call the boss,” she said, making him chuckle. She had no clue. She was about to find out.

“Told you, he said it was alright,” Logan said, making the girl give him a face of confusion. She was confused and thought to herself until it clicked in her head. He was the boss.

That’s why he had so many guards outside of the VIP room. That’s why she was requested to wear a certain outfit. She was dancing for the boss.

“O-Oh, sorry, I — I didn’t know,” y/n said, still keeping her breast covered, but had lightened up her body, trying to relax more so she wouldn’t lose her job. Yes, she’s thought about escaping, but with the money. I’d he fired her and kicked her out, she wouldn’t get the money.

“All good, darling. Just wanting to surprise my favorite girl,” Logan said, hands softly grabbing her wrist to pull them away from her chest. She fought back for a second, but soon let him do what he wanted.

“Good girl — Too pretty to be coverin’ up in front of me,” he said as both of his hands cupped her chest, massaging them with kindness. He wanted her comfortable before he brought out the man he was.

“I-I know I work for you, b-but I don’t usually do this,” y/n stuttered as the man’s fingers pinched and played with both of her nipples slowly.

“Mhm hm,” he hummed, fixated on making something spark in her, and he soon did. A small moan escaped her mouth after she parted her lips. It was hard to hide how good his touch felt.

“Logan- Mister Howlett,” y/n corrected herself, trying to come out of respect, but it’s not like he’d get rid of her. She could punch him right now, and he’d keep her. He’d shit shows her the consequences of those actions.

“Can call me Logan, Bub,” the man said right before he latched his mouth around one of the girl's nipples. Y/n moaned lightly, hands flying to his hair to tug on, but not away.

“Oh, fuck,” was all she could say as she started on the man again. If this was another man, she would’ve been fought, but with him, she couldn’t bring himself to. He played with her too well.

Logan groaned onto the girl's chest, sensing vibrations through her body as his hands tried to her panties until he ripped them off clean, just like her bra.

“Gonna listen to your boss, baby?” Logan asked in between his sucks. “Y-Yes, sir,” she whined as she leaned her head back. “Good girl,” Logan groaned as he pulled back and shifted under her.

“You’re a tasty little thing, but still a hard ass,“ Logan said, making the girl's heart pump. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise,” y/n felt like she was begging, and she was. Who knew how much she actually needed this job, and how much she needed him.

“Oh, yes, you will, because you got a lot of making up to do for me,” Logan said as he finally got his cock out of his jeans. Y/n’s sucked in a low breath at the size and sight of him.

He was huge. He was hard. He was leaking. He was hurting. He’s needed y/n for a while, and she’s about to find that out. “Ride me, Bub,”

Y/n was hesitant, but managed to lift herself up, allowing Logan to shift his body under her so she was right aligned with him.

“Listen to me, baby, or you’ll regret it,” Logan quickly changed his attitude, which didn’t alarm y/n in a bad way. It was actually making her more wet than she already was.

“Y-Yes, sir,” she stuttered again before he slowly sunk down onto the man. “F-Fuck,” y/n quickly winced at the pain. He stretched her quicker than she’d ever been stretched before.

“That’s it, baby — Get me all in,” Logan placed his hands on her waist to guide her down quicker. Y/n clenched around the man. She even twitched.

“Ah huh,” the man breathed out as she finally got every inch of him inside of her with a slight eye cross. She had felt the knot in her stomach built in an instant.

“Start movin, Bub,” Logan spoke in a warning tone, making sure she knew he didn’t want to take any type of time with this. “I paid for this session,” the man added.

Y/n placed her hands back on the man’s shoulders to help herself before she began bouncing slowly. Cunt gripping his pulsing rock-hard cock as.

“Fuuck,” the man groaned as he threw his head back. “So fucking tight,” the man admitted as she whined. It didn’t take long for her wetness to coat his cock, allowing her to move on him smoother.

“Gonna keep you, baby. Not like I haven’t already,” Logan said as he leaned his head back up, watching y/n crumble on his lap.

“Gonna be my girl, baby? Officially? Some gotta work no more, only for me,” Logan said as a hand softly wrapped around her neck. “Mhm hm,” y/n accepted something she didn’t even think about.

“Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and stick by my side for the same pay?” He asked. “Yes,” y/n whined, but down, she didn’t care about the pay, and he could see that. He could read right through her.

“Money isn’t the prize for you though, now ain’t it, baby? You just wanna ride my cock until you go dumb,” Logan said, making her nod her head repeatedly.

“Oh, yeah,” the man groaned darkly as he planted his feet and began plunging up into the younger lady, making her take him far more than she could handle.

“Oh, fuck,” y/n cried as the grip on his shoulders tightened. “Good little girl — So damn pretty and obedient. Almost thought you hated me,” the man smirked up at her as she shook.

She did hate the man. That was until she realized how good-looking he was and how damn good his cock felt.

“So drunk on my cock, you’re forgetting I basically took you from your home,” the man fake pouted as he snapped his hips harder, allowing the room to fill with their skin clapping.

“I’m gonna cum, sir,” y/n warned, making him groan at how good she sounded calling him sir. “Good, baby. Cum on my cock. Soak my jeans. Show me who you belong to. Show me who I belong to,” Logan said, feeling his own orgasm near.

“Oh, yes — Yes, yes,” y/n cried out as she shook, letting loose all over the man with a loud moan. “That’s it! Fuckin’ cum on me, y/n. Cum!” The man’s grip on her neck and waist tightened, making y/n feel taken over. That feeling only made her mind foggy.

“Gonna fill you up, baby. You gonna like that? Gonna take it? — Tell me you’re gonna take it, baby,” Logan needed to hear her. “Gonna take it,” y/n could barely get out from how slow her mind was moving her the lack of air getting out of her throat. “Ah huh, ah huh!”

Logan brutally fucked the girl with a loud groan, spilling into her as she shook and went slack. He held her up though, making sure her half-opened eyes looked down at the man who now claimed he’d officially.

“Yes, baby,” the man couldn’t stop rutting into her. The pleasure only grew more as he heard her and his cum mixing together in her cunt. She was full, but he wanted to fill her more.

“Fuck, c’mere,” Logan said as he picked y/n up and threw her over his shoulder. He paid no attention to the state they were in and walked out of the VIP room.

“Cancel all appointments with y/n for tonight and any other night — Buy everything on the list I made all week so she’ll have something good to wake up to,” Logan said as he walked down the hallway and out of the back door that lead to other parts of the club.

Logan carried y/n to his room which was on the last floor of the large building. He knew she had questions to ask the whole way up, but all she could let out were whines.

Her cunt still leaked his cum, occasionally dropping down his arm as he stepped through his building. He fucked her well and planned to put her to sleep.

“Gonna wake up like a princess tomorrow morning, Bub,”

[typing-catastrophe]

could you write a stanford pines x reader headcanon where the reader is an artist and always draws him and draws in his journals when he isnt looking? maybe he talks to the reader about the drawings and they get really flustered i dunno!!! <3

oohhh! yeesss, that's a great idea! thank you anon ^^ hope this is okay, enjoy!

1.2k words --------------------------------------------------

Your little habit started out even before Stanford came back. Dipper saw you sketching in your notebook from time to time, and asked you to draw something for him in the journal. He handed it to you and pointed next to a text he'd written about some anomaly (maybe a Manotaur or the Pterodactyl). First you were unsure, how would you feel if someone randomly decided to draw in your sketchbook? But it actually seemed really fun, an you didn't want to disappoint Dipper. Also it was in the spirit of research and preserving observations. And honestly, what were the odds the mysterious author would ever show up again?

With that attitude you began, whenever you got the chance to, to doodle yours and the twins encounters with the countless strange phenomena in gravity falls into the journal.

Well, oops? Seemed like the universe decided that not long after you started doing so, it was the right time for the author to come back.

It wasn't a big deal really, Dipper kept the journal for most of the time and Ford told him that he liked the additions he made. You weren't sure if he only meant the notes Dipper added, or if he even knew that someone else drew the newly added creatures.

It didn't take long for you and Ford to get to know each other better and spend more time together. Literally everything about him was just so fascinating. From the way he talked about his dimensional travels, anomaly hunts and research, his interest in a shared hobby of yours (dd&md), to the way he held himself. And, even if you were a bit embarrassed to admit it, his looks.

You couldn't help it, he was captivating. So to no surprise, one day you found yourself sitting the shack's porch, looking over at Ford standing in the yard, working away at something that was too bulky for the basement. You didn't even realise what you were doing, until something startled you out of your thoughts and you looked down at your sketchbook, seeing a familiar figure on the open page.

And then it happened again, in the lab. He was explaining away, deeply invested in whatever topic he was rambling about, not really taking in his surroundings. You had started out just sketching his study, but somehow he turned out to be the main focus of it.

One evening you found yourself in the living room of the shack. Ford was sitting on the floor, which was almost entirely covered in graph paper. You had joined him while he prepared the next campaign session, the tv quietly proving some background noise. While he was franticly scribbling away sheet after sheet, you propped open your notebook and began sketching some of the characters that came to your mind. Ford's, Dipper's and your characters and some npcs you encountered on your travels. But looming over all of them, half hidden behind the dm-screen, the scheming face of the man before you took his shape.

The end of the evening was rather blurry, you remembered falling asleep on the floor and being carried to bed, half asleep in someone's arms.

"hmm thank you", is all you could mumble when you felt the soft pillow under your head.

"No problem, dear", you heard a deep voice chuckle.

-

When you thought about it the next morning, a smile crept unto your face and you kinda wished, you would've been more awake, so you could've enjoyed the moment properly.

The smiled was quickly wiped off though, when you realised that you must've left your sketchbook in the living room, given that Ford probably didn't bring it with him last night. You panicked and jumped out of bed, stumbling to the door when your gaze was caught by something. Your sketchbook, laying on your desk. You exhaled, glad it didn't lay around for anyone to see. You took it into your hands and opened it to the last page you were working on. But instead of the drawing from yesterday evening, only the one before that stared back at you. Confused, you turned the pages a few times, examined it, maybe someone ripped it out? No, no remnants of a torn out page....

Then, it dawned on you. You left your notebook in your room yesterday. You didn't plan on staying or even going to the living room. God knows how you ended up there, but it definitely was without your sketchbook. Which could only mean one thing...

In record time you were out the door, down the hall and in the living room. Right in time to take in the scenery of Ford staring down at his campaign notebook, opened to the page of your drawing.

"Ahh!! No no don't look!", you jumped forward and put your hands over the drawing. Ford furrowed his eyebrows, looking quite puzzled.

"This? Oh I already saw it last night after getting you to bed. It is incredible!"

Your cheeks heated up. "Oh" was all you could utter.

"It was also you who added the depictions of the twin's adventures, right?"

"Uhmm" You didn't keep your passion for drawing a secret, but you also didn't make a big deal out of it. And honestly, the way Ford was always so indulged in his own mind, you didn't think he was paying much attention to what you were doing. Now you felt a bit stupid for believing he wouldn't connect the - admittedly - obvious dots.

"They really are marvellous. And this?", he gestured to yesterdays page "Truly phenomenal!"

You didn't know what to say. You weren't even sure if you could say anything at all. All you felt was blood rushing to the tips of your ears and a flaming hot sensation in your cheeks.

"I- well uhm, thank you", you managed to stutter "I uh, I actually didn't mean to- uhm, use your campaign book. It was a mistake, I'm sorry."

"You've got to be joking! It's the perfect addition!" Ford exclaimed. "Do you mind if I keep it?"

"Oh", his enthusiasm caught you off guard. "I-, I guess not. Actually, that would mean a lot to me." you admitted sheepishly.

"Very well then! Thank you, dear." He looked at you with a fond expression.

You were about to retreat back to your room, turning around ready to leave, when Ford spoke up again, the smile apparent in his voice. "I also liked your artistic rendition of the twins adventures. Anything else you want to show me?" You froze.

Your heart started beating ridiculously fast. Did he knew? Did he notice you staring at him while drawing? Your thoughts started racing, but came to a sudden halt when he leaned down. His lips were almost touching your ear when he started to whisper.

"Maybe another time." And with that he walked by you, leaving you to yourself.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

a/n: if you want a second part with romance and/or where ford discovers the drawings of him, let me know! Have a nice day/night!

[elllisaaa]

ateez when their s/o gives them cutness aggression

-> words count : 963 words

-> genre : fluff

-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> author's note : @mjilv gave me the idea of doing an ateez version so here it is ! hope you'll like it !

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist

svt version | ateez version

KIM HONGJOONG

cause of the aggression : hongjoong coming home very sleepy after a long day working at the studio.

actually, it’s more the way he latches on you as soon as he spots you that melts your heart.

you immediately wrap your arms around him and bury your nose in his hair, then you leave a string of kisses on the crown of his head. 

even after so many hours working, he still smells so good and you’re a little jealous. 

and hongjoong is too tired to try and stop you from doing your thing, on the contrary, he relaxes even more in your embrace, quietly humming in satisfaction.

“how was your day joongie ?”

“so much better now that I’m with you.”

PARK SEONGHWA

cause of the aggression : seonghwa proudly showing off the new lego set he just built. 

you had always thought that your boyfriend’s passion for lego was endearing, but the way he always seeks out your approval on everything he adds to his collection makes you want to keep him with you forever. 

so instead of paying attention to the piece in his hands, you squish his cheeks and kiss his lips repeatedly instead. 

seonghwa whines a few times, asking you what you are doing but honestly, he loves the affection so he quickly shuts up.

“now, what were you saying, baby ?”

“i’m not sure i wanna talk about legos now. can you kiss me again instead ?”

JEONG YUNHO

cause of the aggression : you know the golden retriever energy he has ? yeah, that is enough.

because why does his whole face light up when he finds you in the cereal aisle at the grocery store, showing off the new ice cream flavors he’s been wanting to try. 

and you don’t care that you’re in public because you just need to show him that you love him.

so you grab his arm and stand on your tippy toes to be able to kiss his cheeks as many times as you want.

and yunho’s giggles as you do it don’t help calm you down.

“what was that for ?”

“don’t act like you don’t know how cute you are, jeong yunho.”

KANG YEOSANG

cause of the aggression : you know the way he’s looking above himself sometimes ? that is literally the cutest thing ever wtf ???

so when you pass behind the couch and your boyfriend does that, you cannot help the urge to bend down and leave a trail of kisses along his forehead.

yeosang sometimes doesn’t understand you, but he loves your kisses so he lets you do your thing. 

when you finally let him go, you notice his red ears, and you chuckle lightly before giving him a real kiss on the lips.

“i’m never getting used to this.”

“good, i want you to be surprised everytime i come out of nowhere to give you affection.”

CHOI SAN

cause of the aggression : san pouting at you because you don’t want to sleep with him due to the unbearable heat of the summer. 

you were already sweating like crazy, and you didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night all sticky because your boyfriend wasn’t able to keep his hands off of you.

but the way he was pleading you with his whole face was too cute to ignore. 

so you simply sighed as you settled in his arms again and went to kiss his pouty lips. and as soon as you were done with your attack, san was all smiley again.

“you’re such a child.”

“maybe, but you love me.”

SONG MINGI

cause of the aggression : his big smile, the one that makes me want to kill myself because he’s too fucking pretty for this world. 

when he’s smiling like that, it’s already hard to manage, but when that smile is directed at you, it’s impossible to pass on the opportunity to kiss his whole face.

so you don’t hesitate to cup his face in your hands and press your lips against every inch of his skin.

and his smile doesn’t leave him as you go on, his own hands going down to grab your waist.

as soon as you’re done, he’s pressing a kiss to your own lips, and his eyes are filled with love.

“i really don’t deserve you.”

“you do mingi, you deserve the world.”

JUNG WOOYOUNG

cause of the aggression : we all know how cute he is when he’s taking care of kids so seeing him be all lovey dovey with your little cousins makes your heart flutter. 

as soon as wooyoung said his goodbyes to the little girl because you had to go, you’re all over him.

he doesn’t understand what’s happening, and he’s whiny at the beginning, trying to push you off of him.

but he progressively gives up on his plan and simply lets you do your thing. 

and when you finally let him go - and breathe some fresh air - he cannot hide his cheeky smile.

“something’s wrong with you, i swear.”

“as if you’re not just as crazy !”

CHOI JONGHO

cause of the aggression : once again, the smile. like, his big gummy smile… killing myself again.

no but how can you resist him when he’s smiling at you like that ?? you can’t ! 

so even if he didn’t ask for this, you kiss his face as many times as you can before jongho starts to protest. 

but both of you know that it’s only to try and keep his composure, because he loves it when you’re showering him with your love like that.

but he has a reputation to hold (he has none but you let him believe it because he’s cute).

“all of that just because of my smile ?”

“don’t play dumb ! you know very well how weak i am !”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

ateez taglist (fill in this to added) :

@sharonxdevi @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @heevllog @lichyuu @foxinnie8 @lovelyuyu

[tokkiwrites]

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

summary: You work at a rundown bar, where the crowd is full of shady figures you’d rather avoid. Most nights, you keep to yourself, focusing on the drinks. But there’s one customer you can’t ignore: a handsome, older man who comes in every day, always ordering the same thing. And it seems he can't overlook you either.

tags: oldman!logan, hefty age gap but mentioned twice (logan is literally 100 and some), mutual feelings but no communication (for most of it), jealousy, violence, mention of blood, assault on reader (by drunk patrons), mention of wounds (reader cleans logan up), kind of angst idk, logan calls reader 'doll' & 'angel', no description of reader (reader is able bodied & and logan can pick reader up but he's like a mutant so yk), reader doesn't know about Logan’s powers, p in v (unprotected), afab!reader, fools in love [let me know if i missed anything!]

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ wowza! i was gone and came back with a new obsession, OLD.MAN.LOGAN. mhm. this doesn't have sm nsfw stuff, but it has 4.2k words sooo yeah. ENJOY. Also, not beta read, so sorry !! love ya !!

The bar wasn’t much to look at. Dim lighting, peeling paint, and booths that had seen better days. It was the kind of place people wandered into when they didn’t want to be found or when they had nowhere else to go. You’d learned not to ask questions. The regulars didn’t expect conversation, just a steady stream of drinks to numb the rough edges of their lives.

You’d been working here long enough to recognize the different kinds of silence people carried. Some were heavy with anger, others with regret.

But his silence was different.

He’d come in every night, just as the sun sank beneath the horizon, the neon sign in the window flickering weakly. Always the same seat, always the same drink — a glass of whiskey, neat, then more as the night wore on. He never looked around, never talked to anyone, just sat there, brooding under the low light. But his eyesㅡ they had a way of finding you.

At first, it was just a glance here or there, easy enough to dismiss. But as the nights passed, you could feel his gaze linger, like he was waiting for something. Or maybe it was you who was waiting. You never talked. You barely even made eye contact when you set his glass down. But somehow, in the quiet, you understood each other. Like you were both drawn to the same place for reasons neither of you would say.

Day after day, it was the same routine. He’d walk in, nod slightly at you — never a word — and you’d pour his drink without being asked. There was something comforting in the rhythm of it. Something unspoken. the silence that both of you created.

Sometimes, you’d catch him watching the bar, his brow furrowed in thought, but when your eyes met, he’d turn away, like there was something he wasn’t ready to admit. Still, he came back. Every night. And every night, it was the same: the weight of what wasn’t said hung between you like cigarette smoke in the stale air.

The crowd didn’t notice. They never did. They were too wrapped up in their own noise, their own shadows. But in the quiet moments — the pauses between pouring drinks and wiping down the bar — there was him. And there was you.

Time passed like that. Silent, heavy, and slow. Days blending into nights, and nights blending into the weight of his presence at the corner of the bar. Neither of you said a word, but somehow, you both knew there was more.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be spoken. Maybe it didn’t need to be. But you couldn’t deny it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The bar’s usual hum was interrupted by a loud group of men who barged in with a boisterous energy that filled the dim space. After a few drinks, their laughter was more intrusive, their voices carrying a raucous edge that unsettled most, if not all, patrons present. You took a deep breath, focusing on your steps as you approached their table again with a polite, strained smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light despite the tension. “Yeah, sweetheart, another round,” the burly man at the center of the group said, leaning forward with a smirk that curled up almost to his eyes. “And make it quick.”

You nodded, turning on your heel to fetch their drinks. As you passed by, one of the men reached out and grabbed your thigh roughly. The touch was invasive, and you flinched, your face briefly contorting with discomfort before you masked it with a professional smile. “Please, just let me know if you need anything,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. The man’s friends laughed, their eyes following you with lewd interest. “Hey, don’t be so uptight, princess” one with a red hat on called out. “Why don’t you come sit with us?”

You could feel the weight of their gazes as you moved around the bar, pouring drinks and clearing empty glasses. The men’s comments grew increasingly crude, their remarks about you becoming more suggestive with every passing minute. “You know, if you weren’t such a stuck-up bitch, maybe you’d actually enjoy some company,” another man said with a drunken grin. “Why don’t you come over here and have a drink with us? We promise we don't bite. unless you want us to."

You forced yourself to maintain your composure, slipping away to tend to other customers whenever possible. The discomfort was evident in the stiffness of your movements and the tightness in your voice as you continued to interact with them. “Is there anything else you need?” you asked, your attempt at politeness barely masking your growing unease. The men’s behavior grew increasingly aggressive. One particularly sleazy figure leaned closer as you approached their table. “Why don’t you come outside with us, baby?” he suggested with a smirk. “I bet we could show you a real good time.”

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, but you managed to keep your head up. “Please, just be respectful,” you said, though your discomfort was evident in the way you avoided eye contact and focused intently on your tasks. The men continued to make more remarks, their laughter echoing around the bar. “You know, I bet she likes it rough,” one of them said, his tone dripping with false camaraderie. “Just look at her.”

As the night slipped, the men began to gather their things, their loud voices gradually fading as they prepared to leave. “See you around, sweetheart,” one of them called out, his voice slurred. “Hope to find you here next time.”

You watched them leave, the sound of their laughter fading into the night. Logan, who had been sitting silently in his usual corner, was now absent. The emptiness of his spot felt pronounced, and the tension in the room seemed to shift with his departure.

Finishing up your work, you closed the bar with a sense of relief, though the unease from the evening’s events lingered. When you stepped outside to lock up, the cool night air hit you, and you were met with a startling sight.

Logan was leaning against the wall outside the bar, his clothes smeared with blood and his face bearing the marks of a recent altercation. He took a slow drag from a cigarette, the smoke curling around him and blending with the chilly night air. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight. Shock and concern etched on your face, you approached him slowly, your steps hesitant. The sight of him, battered and silent, was jarring.

without any words, from your pocket, you retrieved a handkerchief and extended it toward Logan. The white fabric embroidered with blue and yellow flowers stood out sharply against the dark stains of blood on his clothes. He accepted the handkerchief with a solemn nod, his gaze fixed on the ground. As he began to gently wipe away the blood from his gruff face, the night’s silence seemed to deepen, and alongside your quiet breath, spun you both into a dance.

You didn’t speak. He didn't speak. You both just stared at each other, and the bloodied fabric now snug into your fist yet again. your eyes finally stay locked with his for more than a few seconds. your heart almost stops, and you swear you see a smile play on his lips. a promise.

from the corner of your eye, you see a red hat on the ground.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The street was quiet, the only sound your footsteps echoed in the stillness. Questions swirled in your mind, each one more urgent than the last. What had happened to Logan after the men left? Did he confront them? Did he hurt them—worse than they had hurt you?

thoughts raced with unsettling possibilities. Had he been driven to violence, and if so, had it been severe? Did he simply rough them up, or had the confrontation escalated to something darker? The idea that he might have crossed a line you could never have anticipated gnawed at you. The image of him, bloodied but silent, replayed in your mind, intertwining with the echoes of those moments you had to endure.

a promise.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The following day broke clear and crisp, but the chill in the air did nothing to lighten your mood. You arrived at the bar early, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. The quiet morning gave way to the usual routine, and you tried to focus on your work, pushing aside the lingering thoughts about Logan. they were more apparent than usual, the thought of him hurting others because they had hurt you sent your heart into a frenzy. you cursed under your breath.

it's just a stupid crush, right?

As the evening approached and the bar began to fill with the usual crowd, you were busying yourself with the evening preparations when the door swung open. The familiar chime of the bell caught your attention, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Logan enter. But he wasn’t alone.

At his side was an older woman, her presence a striking contrast to the dim surroundings. She was dressed in a sleek, elegant outfit that seemed to shimmer under the bar’s low lights. Her laughter was light and easy, and her touch intimate as she rested her hand on Logan’s arm. she was gorgeous.

The sight of them together was like a cold splash of waterㅡ No, it felt like molten glass was being spilled on your heart. You felt a pang of jealousy so sharp it was almost physical. The way the woman leaned into Logan and the easy familiarity they shared cut through you, and a knot of discomfort formed in your chest. oh, your poor heart.

You forced yourself to focus on your duties, though every glance toward their table felt like an intrusion on a scene that you wished you could unsee. Logan’s usually reserved demeanor seemed softened by the woman’s presence. They sat close together, sharing private jokes and smiles that seemed to exclude everyone else.

When you approached their table with a forced smile, the woman looked up at you with a polite but slightly inquisitive gaze. Logan’s eyes met yours briefly, and though he didn’t say anything, there was a faint hint of acknowledgment—or perhaps recognition.

“What can I get for you?”

Logan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned to the woman. “He’ll have what I’m having,” she said. “Gin and Tonic.” The woman smiled warmly at you. “Thank you,” she said, her voice light as she shooed you away.

You nod and walk away. He doesn't like that. He never drinks that. Who is she and why is she changing everything you've built with her 'Gin and Tonic' ? jealousy was bitter, like her Gin and Tonic, mingling with a shot of rejection that you struggled to swallow

The night dragged on, and you found yourself caught between the desire to avoid them and the want to know more. Every time you had to approach their table, you forced a smile, even as your heart ached. was what he done last night just charity work? is that all you are to him?

When the evening came to a close and the bar began to empty, you watched as Logan and the woman finished their drinks and prepared to leave. They shared a brief goodbye before she departed, leaving Logan alone at the table.

As you prepared to close up, Logan made his way to the bar. The clinking of glass and the quiet murmur of the remaining patrons faded into the background as you focused on tidying up. You glanced up and there he was, as breathtaking as ever.

“Can I get you anything else?” you ask him. it's the second time you've since asked him this since he started coming to this bar. “Just a whiskey,” he said quietly, his deep voice hugging you. When you returned with his drink, Logan accepted it with a silent nod. There was a brief pause, an awkward silence that seemed to stretch between you. it never felt this way. this quiet was loud, it wasn't yours. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” he said, his voice low. “Last night...” You meet his eyes yet again, a guarded stare. “It’s not about that,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I justㅡ" you try and bite your tongue. "I didn’t expect to see you with someone else.”

Logan’s eyes softened slightly, though his face remained inscrutable. “Things aren’t always what they seem,” he said quietly. “Sometimes it’s just about a moment of normalcy.”

wasn’t what you had normal enough?

you watched him leave, the bar yet again empty. and for the first time in months, you let yourself crumble. tears stream down your face and onto the dark wood of the counter.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

It was your day off. Your house was a haven of quietude. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a soft twilight that wrapped around you as you stepped outside. The warmth of the day lingered in the air, tempered by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the big tree shading your little bench.

You settled onto the bench, surrounded by the foliage and flowers that adorned your small garden. The rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of evening birds created a serene backdrop to your thoughts. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the tranquility wash over you as you sought solace.

in your mind played a relentless loop. these past few days have really tugged at your strength. and you never knew how deep what you felt for Logan was, and how 'not normal' it might've seemed for him. "He would never be with me. I’m clearly way too young for him. Maybe I’m not mature enough...” The words felt like a feeble attempt to convince yourself of the impossibility of what you had hoped for. the streetlights began to flicker on, casting long shadows across the garden.

Just as you were about to stand and head inside, a sudden noise made you freeze. You turned your gaze and saw a figure emerging from the edge of the street.

Logan. but he was not the same as you remembered him. His clothes were torn and bloodied, his face marred with fresh woundsㅡ He moved with a weary, deliberate pace, each step seemingly heavy with the weight of his injuries. or maybe to not scare you away.

your serene backdrop shattered, in the middle of the cold surroundings was only Logan’s limping body as he made his way towards you. Meanwhile, your hands start to shake and for a moment it feels like you are dreaming, maybe you were still meditating on the bench. He came to a halt a few feet away. His eyes, though tired, met yours. There it was again, your silence. The silence you both built, and it came back, feeling so warm. He was hurt; why was he here? how does he know you live here?

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with worry. You took a step toward him, your gaze darting over his injuries with growing concern. He remained silent, looking away —perhaps a silent plea or a quiet admission. weighing whether to speak or to simply endure, he looked back up at you.

"Let me help you." you speak up again, eyes furrowed softly. "Please?"

With a slow nod, Logan permitted you to guide him into your cozy home. The interior was a sanctuary of warmth and soft light, a stark contrast to the chill that clung to him from the outside. You gently led him to the couch, where he sank down with a weary sigh. You moved with purpose, retrieving the first aid kit from a nearby cabinet, your mind focused on easing his pain, as Logan focused on your adorned house, every corner a small piece of you.

you began to tend to his injuries, the only sounds being the quiet rustling of bandages and Logan’s occasional, pained breath. After the last bandage was in place, you took a seat across from him, the soft chair creaking slightly as you settled.

“What happened?” you asked again, your voice soft but insistent. Logan started, “About the woman from last night—”

“I don’t care about her. I just want to know who did this to you.” you interrupted. He looked at you, a mix of frustration and resignation in his eyes. “No, it’s her. She worked for a company. They were after something from me—blood samples for some experiments. I don’t—”

He hesitated, struggling to explain. “Look, it’s not just about her. It’s more complicated than that. They’re connected to people who don’t play fair. I ended up having to defend myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Logan’s gaze softened as he met your eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t want to bring you into this mess.”

You paused him, your hands stilling. “What is it?”

Logan took a deep breath, the weight of his words evident in his expression. “It’s not just about the trouble I’m in. It’s... it’s about how I feel."

"When I come to the bar... it’s more than just the whiskey." you heart stops and starts back again with double the force. "I’ve developed feelings for you, doll. Strong feelings.” his voice. he was vulnerableㅡ sincere. “I know it’s complicated, with our age difference, and I know I haven’t made things easy being always silentㅡ But I had to be honest with you. I care about you more than I thought I would.”

"Logan, Iㅡ" he kneeled in front of you, so fast, taking into his calloused palms your own trembling ones as he spoke again. "I know, you don't need to say anything. I know you could never fall for someone like me." like him? but how you wished everyone was like him, and no one at the same time, so he could be all your own. "I won't force you, just.."

"Please let me speak, Logan..." you interjected gently. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it’sㅡ it's been eating my heart alive. From the moment you first came to that bar exactly five months ago, thats how long I've waited for you to speak." tears brim at your eyes. “I didn’t know how to put it into words. Every night you came in, every glance, every silent conversation—it all made me realize how deeply and painfully I fell. it’s been tearing me apart to keep it to myself, and it sucks that it took a jealousy-induced panic attack for me to finally admit it" You laughed softly, the sound tinged with sadness as you tried to hide your tears.

Logan’s gaze softened as his rough thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand. "Doll..." He paused, searching for the right words. “I’m sorry for making you go through that. I should have been braver." You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “No, it’s not entirely your faultㅡ I was scared too. Scared of what my feelings meant, scared of how you might react...”

"We were both afraid then, doll. But now, we’ve got a chance to face it together. If you’re willing.”

your heart ached so good, hoping this wasn't only a dream. "I am so willing." a smile broke through your sobs and Logan finally embraced you. As you pressed against him, you felt the steady beat of his heart, a rhythmic reminder that this was realㅡ that this was happening. His body was solid and reassuring, radiating a heat that seemed to seep into your very soul. It was a warmth that was strangely familiar, as if your heart had always known this moment was meant to be. The softness of his shirt against your cheek, his scent filling your sensesㅡ There was something profoundly beautiful about this first embrace. like discovering a cherished melody for the first time, one that resonated deep within you. you had known this comfort all along, buried within the unspoken parts of both your souls.

the world outside was distant, it was just the two of you. Logan pulls away for a second and his eyes meet yours. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yoursㅡ it left you breathless. You had only dreamed of this. His lips melded with yours, and again it felt like the silence you both always shared.

When you finally pulled away, both breathless and a little disoriented, he asks through low gasps, hands cupping your blushed cheeks. "Let me show you how much I care, doll." and you can only whimper a soft 'yes' as his lips crash onto your neck, painting soft kisses and marks that tomorrow morning will look like lilac petals.

he picks you up effortlessly, and through stolen moans you guide him to your bedroom, where he places you upon the bed and stares from over you. "Undress for me, angel." he's firm in what he wants, and when you catch a glimpse of the bulge that's formed in his roughed up jeans you quickly comply. you leave yourself naked under his eyes, hands placed on your sides to support yourself. "You're so beautiful. I'm going to make you all mine." Logan groans as he starts to peel off his clothes, revealing his almost healed wounds. "I was already yours.." you whisper, and he smiles in the corner of his mouth.

he takes his time, first he preps kisses upon your breasts, then down to you bellybutton, and finally to your thighs. Logan chuckles as he parts your legs further and reveals your dripping core. "She’s ready for me, ain't she?" you muster up a 'mhm' and nip at you bottom lip as he pulls himself up and positions his hardened manhood between your legs, where you could see it better. you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared. this wasn't your first time, but it was the first time you'd ever seen a cock like hisㅡ you wondered how it'll fit.

"Don't worry, angel. I'll go slow. Promise" he pressed a kiss on your forehead before aligning himself with your entrance. Slowly, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more.

"Please, Logan..." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. "So pretty, dollㅡ fuck..." he moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, little pleads dripping from your lips.

after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Logans's length, which made him grunt and pull your hips flush to his "that's it, angel. come around my cock, c'monㅡ shit."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under Logan, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly. it doesn't take him long reach his high, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paints your stomach with white, silky strands.

for a few moments, you sit there in silence. your silence.

[gyllenhaalstories]

BODIES IN THE SAND — ELWOOD DALTON 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and dalton wanted to make it special.

warnings: eating, mostly fluff & smut (making out, thigh riding). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2730

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the fourth year in a row, making it everyone’s problem with a (very boring) self indulgent fic. 🎈 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The dock master waved at you when you passed by. You did not leave him enough time to repeat his speech about watching out for the damn crocs like a broken record. You had visited the Glass Key Marina so many times since meeting Dalton, one could think the old man would spare you the lecture. Whatever. This time, you ignored him. You stormed towards the wooden pier on a mission.

Dalton, now confident in Billy and Reef's abilities to handle the unruly patrons on their own (if they remembered to lift with their knees), allowed himself a night off from time to time. The pay as the bouncer of the roadhouse supported him plenty anyway. He did not splurge much, judging by the fishing box overflowing with stacks of cash. When he did spend his money, he would buy all the books Charlie recommended to him or he would treat you to his new favourite food, conch chowder.

You were usually the first person to know about his sporadic vacations, except for today. You drove to the roadhouse and Laura greeted you with a perplexed smile as to why you were there without Dalton. Frankie walked down the stairs from her office and expressed the same level of confusion. "Dalton called, said he's sick. I think the boat dreams are getting to him. Took him long enough." She explained before helping her employees to get the bar ready for another night. Dalton, sick? You stormed out of the bar with the same determination that made you beeline to The Boat.

"There you are." Dalton, who sat on the railing of the boat, stood up and turned around to greet you. The look on your face, painted with surprise, satisfied him, it was worth spending the entire afternoon decorating his corner of the marina. "Happy birthday."

You stood on a creaky wood plank and took in the scene. Orange balloons matched the colours of the sky as the early sunset reflected on the water. There were garlands and streamers, basically anything that could make the dock look festive. You scoffed at the Happy Thanksgiving banner attached to the back of the boat that clashed with the rest.

Dalton quickly justified. "I know... 'Was all Charlie could find." He worked on the ribbon of the balloon he had previously secured on the railing and held on it tight. He raised his leg to get off the boat, but you interrupted.

"I appreciate the thought. This looks so..." You spun on your heels and admired the decorations for a few more seconds. "This looks really nice. But that still won't get me to climb on that thing. It's literally sinking." You pointed at the rusty boat that the dock master constantly referred to as a frying pan. You wholeheartedly agreed with the older man.

"It's not sinking." He leaped from the boat to the dock. The tone of his voice failed to convince you. "... Yet." You both nodded in agreement. Not yet. Soon enough, Dalton would be taking a nap with the crocodile.

You let him come to you.

He tilted his head, eyes squinting at you. "You know, those little footsteps of yours sounded furious. Everything okay?" He clenched his jaw, already bracing up for bad news. It was all he seemed to attract: bad news.

"I should be asking you! Are you okay? I went to the bar and Frankie said you were sick."

"I don't get sick." He shook his head lightly.

"Then why did she tell me that?"

"Oh, I asked her to." He marked a pause, as if that was enough information. You pressed him to grant you with more details. "I thought it was a good excuse." There was a hint of pride in his grin.

"A good excuse that worried me a lot." Your attempt at reprimanding him failed miserably, especially when his grin widened while he stepped closer to you.

Dalton carefully tied the ribbon of the balloon around your right wrist. He then flicked the balloon, watching it bop. "Charlie and I have been planning this for a little while. Couldn't find a proper banner in time." His chin pointed at the Thanksgiving wishes.

"You can say something cheesy to make up for it." You suggested with a chuckle.

"I'm thankful that you're born?" Although he said it like a question, he was certain in the sincerity behind his words.

"That does the job." You both exchanged a moment of laughter. "Thank you for taking the time to decorate for my birthday."

"There's more." He guided you off the dock and through the makeshift path to the beach, always hovering a hand over your lower back to make sure he would be quick to react if you fell.

You let Dalton walk by the shore. Although you did not mind feeling the water run over your feet and ankles, he had insisted enough times that it was safer for you to stay on the other side. So you just let him do what he wanted. Your hand brushed over his a few times and you caught sight of the smirk on his lips.

He also noticed your head was turned towards the water so he pulled you to stand in front of him. He lost no time to hold your hand when you reached behind to grab his. Dalton mouthed a quiet wow when he took in just how beautiful you looked with the pink sunset sky.

Things were simple with Dalton. He did not talk much about what lead him to Glass Key, but you learned enough snippets of his life to know he wanted things to remain this way: simple. He liked the way you weaved yourself through the routine he built since working at the roadhouse. You'd visit before work, at work, after... You would hang out at the bookstore with Charlie, you would sit by the bar with Laura. It all felt simple. He did not hide his appreciation for the time you shared. He showed honesty in his intentions with you when a kiss turned into a lot more one too many times. Plenty of whispered praises, plenty of love filled gazes. You took it one day at a time with Dalton. And today was a special day in more ways than one.

Dalton bumped against you when you stopped walking abruptly at the sight of the makeshift picnic set up. Beach towels laid on the sand and held in place by a bunch of rocks and a pretty conch shell. It looked a little funky but he knew you could not care less. "After my first shift at the bar, Frankie told me this whole sales pitch about the place." He let go of your hand so you could wander towards the beach towels. "She said this was a beautiful spot to have a drink with someone special." Frankie was talking about the roadhouse, not the beach at the back of the marina but... It was close enough.

"She must be right." You sat down on the towel, Dalton joined you. He attempted to say something else, but the balloon floating in the evening breeze distracted him. You watched him intently as he untied the ribbon from your wrist and attached it to the handle of the cooler.

You exchanged a smile and enjoyed more of the sunset. You wondered to yourself how people could live in a beautiful place such as this and forget to pay attention. How could someone get used to a view like this? You certainly could never. You knew Dalton felt the same.

And Dalton knew what you were thinking about. He had travelled quite a bit, both for work and to escape it. He faced the same reflection time after time. "I don't know." He broke the silence, answering your unspoken question. "Maybe they don't have the right person by their side to remind them to appreciate the moment."

"I like the sound of that." You shifted closer to him and his hand slid along your lower back to find its place on your hip. "It's romantic."

"Wait 'til you hear about what I baked for your birthday..." He let out a small grunt when he stretched his arm towards the cooler to pull it closer.

"You can bake?"

"Nope." He opened the cooler and tilted in your direction. "But Charlie can." Kind of. He let you take a peak inside to admire the cupcakes that he prepared with the teenager and with Stephen on supervision duty.

You found it so endearing how he formed a bond with Charlie. Dalton even grew to like her comparisons to western novels and cowboy boots wearing broody heroes. You leaned in to admire the desserts and chuckled at the sight. "They're all squished."

"Shit." Dalton whispered at the sight of the dozen of misshapen cupcakes. He pulled out the tray and set it on the beach towel. He selected one that sort of held its shape during the transport from Charlie and Stephen's house to the beach. "I swear, I frosted them all nice for you." He grinned apologetically.

You grabbed the cupcake from his hand and took a bite. You swallowed thickly and tried to contain a funny face. "These are..."

"Burnt as hell." He stole a bite from the same cupcake and grimaced. He looked down at the rest of the desserts and began to explain that he was sorry, that he really tried to make your birthday special.

You interrupted him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "There was frosting." It was not entirely false, but you hoped this would stop the train of thoughts.

He still looked unsure, he worried that he had messed up.

So you kissed him again, on the same spot. You would usually let him lead and make the the first move so he would not feel trapped, but you wanted to reassure him. "Spending time with you is a nice gift on its own. So this?" You gestured around you. "This is great. And this." You held his head in your hands for a few moments, waiting for his lips to curl into a smile. "It's all I need to have a good time."

The smile stayed glued on his face even when you pulled away. You reached for the cupcake again and Dalton took it from your hand to put it back on the tray, slamming the cooler shut for good.

"You can't waste the cupcakes, you worked so hard to bake them for me." You would have eaten a couple of the sweets had he not stopped you, you wanted Dalton to know you liked the gesture.

"Then the crocodile can have them." You nodded, agreeing with his idea.

"Maybe he'll spare you for another night."

The sound of yours and Dalton's laughter blended together as one. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He replied.

"I know I just said I'm having a good time, but..." You crawled to kneel between his legs. You sat back, keeping a safe distance to let Dalton decide. "We can make it even better."

He considered the implications of your offer. Now, he felt like he was the one being celebrated. You were a real treat, kneeling before him with a gaze he had seen many times before. You wanted more... You wanted him. Dalton leaned in, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

You let him come closer until your mouths met in a gentle kiss, mirroring what you did moments ago.

His nose brushed against yours while he left you longing for another kiss. The small nod of his head told you everything you needed to know.

You erased the distance completely and kissed him again with your head tilted to the side.

Dalton's fingertips caressed along your arms and guided you to wrap them around his neck. He deepened the kiss when he felt one of your hands cradling the back of his head.

You hummed when his hands began to explore your body. The gentle touching up and down your back grew in eagerness.

Dalton's hands gripped firmly on your hips, pulling you closer. He placed a hand under your thigh and positioned you how he wanted. He took it slow, one step at a time. His hand travelled back up to the curve of your ass that he squeezed a little bit harsher than you expected.

The whimper you let out only encouraged him to keep going while his feverish touches fuelled you to take this further. Your tongue traced his lips before he parted his mouth open.

Your tongues danced together while he let go of you briefly to unbutton his shirt. Immediately after, your hands were all over him. Your fingertips followed the shape of his collarbone down to the curve of his pecs to end on the valley between his abs. You printed each and every detail of Dalton in your mind.

Your loving touch spread goosebumps on his skin, or perhaps it was the breeze getting cooler. The sunset reached its last instants, the sun appeared to be swallowed by the ocean far beyond the horizon. The marina was peaceful, but not quiet. Soft whimpers and grunts filled the silence as the waves slowly hit the sand.

You paused to catch your breath, Dalton could not take his eyes off your kiss swollen lips. "Wanna make you feel good." He whispered against your lips before leaning in again to let his tongue invade your mouth. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing the flesh and making your body move back and forth.

You ached from the lack of direct contact with him, you needed to feel him. But, again, you wanted to respect how far he seemed willing to go.

So he put his words into actions. Dalton made you straddle his thigh, trying to adjust the best he could to make sure you were comfortable. With his hands on your ass again, he began to make you grind on him. At first the movements were tentative, he let you adjust to the friction between your core and the clothes. But when you moaned at his ear, he could no longer hold back.

You rocked your hips back and forth, succumbing to the ever-growing hunger for more. More of this heated intimacy, more of Dalton's warm skin on yours... More.

Every time a door opened, Dalton closed it by repeating that you were a nice person, that you did not want to know him in that way, that you did not want to get close to him.

Yet, you waited. You showed him you had all the patience in the world for him. You showed that you were not out to get him, that you simply wanted to make Dalton feel good too.

You succeeded. The more you waited and reassured him that you would respect his boundaries, the more Dalton wanted to explore what lied beyond those limits.

"I don't want to stop." You murmured at his ear, trailing kisses from his ear and along his jaw until your lips connected again.

"I don't wanna stop either." His grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to slow down. "But since you refuse to get on the boat with me..."

You remained categorical, he would never convince you to step foot in that death trap. "We can go back to my place."

"Oh yeah?" Dalton kept you immobile, pressed down on his thigh. Your whine of complaint sounded like music to his ears. "You think you can wait that long?" It was quite the drive between the beach and your home. If either of you had the genuine intention to leave, you would have done in a while ago. "I'm not too sure about that."

You scoffed at his assumption. "Can you wait?"

Dalton answered your question by capturing your lips with his in a rough kiss. He slowly, carefully, helped you to lay on your back. He guided your legs apart to make space, his gaze meeting yours while his hands caressed your thighs. He let the tension build, he needed you to give him one more sign that you wanted this just as much as he did. When your hips bucked forward, your body pressing more against his, he grinned. "I've waited long enough."

[carmenberzattosgf]

You’ve mentioned this before but cockwarming is 10000% Carmy’s favourite physical thing to do. It can be a part of sex or just something on its own but either way it makes him feel safer than anything else. He literally never feels safer than when he’s just inside reader, it lulls him into this state of comfort that he’s never experienced before like the ceiling could fall in and he would barely notice. He asks for it whenever he’s particularly stressed and at first he feels bad and that’s selfish because he thinks reader isn’t getting anything out of it but after a while she can teach him that that’s not true. Bonus hc that sometimes during cockwarming he comes he can’t explain it and he always feels embarrassed but it happens

Cockwarming making Carmy feel safe is the perfect way to put it, actually.

You’re just so warm and snug around him. Seriously, he could have the worst day at work ever, but it would all be forgotten about the second you sit on his dick.

I think it becomes a routine in all honesty. Carmy comes home from work, gets showered, and you both snuggle up on the couch to watch some tv. More often than not it ends up with him inside of you.

The way he initiates it is always gentle, carefully pulling you into his lap so you can feel his hard-on through his shorts. “Can you, baby? Please?” His voice is soft in your ear.

“Mhm—of course,” you reply instantly, sitting up to push down your pants and underwear. Carmy holds you close as you straddle him, groaning into your lips when you sink down onto his cock.

His arms wrap around your body as soon as you bottom out. Carmy holds you like his life depends on it, keeping your skin flush with his own. Carefully, he shifts down so he can lean back against the arm of the couch, keeping you on top of him. He’ll rub at your back with his fingertips, relishing in your warmth all over him.

Carmy tends to feel bad about asking you to do this for him, because he doesn’t want to be a bother. He also doesn’t want you to think he just wants your body all the time. It takes a hot second to unwire his brain from thinking so negatively about it, and that you enjoy the comfort just as much as he does.

About your bonus thought… YES.

The first time it happens is after he’s been inside you for nearly an hour. Out of nowhere, a breathy, broken groan leaves his mouth while he has his face buried in the crook of your neck. Next, you feel the tell-tale warmness deep inside of you. A series of whimpers falls from his lips before he finally stills.

“Carm? You okay?” You ask with a gentle voice.

“Shit—s-sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to—“ His face is completely pink when he raises up from the crook of your neck.

“Hey, Bear. S’okay. You have nothing to apologize for—nothing at all.” You cup his face and bring him in for a deep kiss to stop him from trying to apologize again.

Once the kiss breaks, you settle back down on top of him, and he holds you even closer to try and prevent any of his cum from spilling out.

It’s safe to say you both fall asleep on the couch that night. At some point during the night, Carmy wakes up and reaches for the blanket that stays on the back of the couch, covering you and him up.

[ghouldtime]

Ghost'ed

Been thinking about literal Ghost! Ghost. Maybe it's playing too many ghost hunting games or watching too many shows but I cannot stop thinking about it. You also cannot convince me this man wouldn't be a restless spirit. His entire life is troubled and I don't see him going down in a peaceful way or leaving until he feels the job is done - and likely ending up trapped as a result

I wrote this at work so sorry in advance for any typos or slip ups!

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Ghost hunting wasn’t exactly what most people would list in "Top ten relaxing hobbies" - but it's not like you were most people. You were simply you. The same you who thought spending your time speculating about spooky specters was one of the best ways to pass by those few stretches of free time that could be all too fleeting in the hellscape known as adulthood.

The stares that followed you when you announced paranormal investigation as a hobby was something you knew all too well. After all, telling someone you’re a ghost hunter only stood as a slightly more socially acceptable version of telling them you believed in bigfoot (you did, but that’s beside the point). The dozens of cheesy TV shows certainly popularized it but they did little to help with the perception of it.

When the face of popular ghost hunting media was full of grown men who screamed like a squirrel high on helium at every little thump of a house settling, it did little to help what people automatically thought of when they heard of your unique hobby. Plenty still turned their noses up, scoffed slightly as they rolled their eyes and sneered, “Aren’t you too old to be doing that?” 

Or worse. They gave a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and crinkled their eyes as they said, "Oh, interesting." While the tension in their body told of holding back laughter or wanting to bolt right on out of there, far far away from you.

Quite frankly, you didn't care what they said anymore as it was your life to live, not theirs. You’d seen enough to know without a fraction of a doubt that there was more beyond the veil of life itself, hiding just out of sight. The hundreds of hours you spent wandering dark hallways and dilapidated ruins with nothing but your flashlight and ghost box proved otherwise. At least it proved it to you.

Proving it to others was a horse of another color. Skeptics who spit their criticism loud enough to deafen even the most positive prevalent of voices in the community were a dime a dozen. Unfortunately, their existence was as certain as the sky is blue. Skepticism was apart of human nature, after all. They would always exist as long as the day and night kept up their eternal dance.

Convincing them was a fruitless effort. You'd sooner be able to convince hippos to fly than you'd convince them of the truth you knew. Trying to get everyone to agree, to acknowledge the paranormal, was hopeless and something you certainly weren't going to waste your life on no matter what they called your or what they said.

As far as you were concerned, being paid to sit in the dark alone and find evidence of life beyond the grimy waters of death itself was a pretty sweet gig. The naysayers could seethe in their own jealousy all they wanted because at the end of the day, you’re getting paid to do what you love. That they never could take away from you.

They'd never be able to have the same thrill that you did as you took on another case, ready to see even more of what the phantasmal realm had to offer.

Anticipation, nervousness, and excitement rolled together in a palpable energy you hid beneath a calmer exterior every time you took a job. There always would be that wonder there, the question of what exactly you might find dangling just out of reach, the hope that maybe, just maybe you might see even more than you already have. Another chance to investigate meant yet another night spent lurking in the shadows, tirelessly trying to find more evidence of the great world beyond the grave and its inhabitants. Tonight certainly would be no different.

An older couple quite reluctantly booked an appointment for a standard investigation after mysterious things that they really could not explain, no matter how they went about it, happened time and time again. They'd tried to ignore it, they said, but it only got worse.

Footsteps that echoed through the house at first in a gentle patter had become confident strides. When they went to look, no one was there. Doors that used to slowly creak open, as if blown by the wind, instead started to rattle the frame with force as they opened or slammed in the middle of the night. The husband looked particularly miffed when he groused about the TV going on at odd hours of the night, while his wife seemed more concerned about the possibility of someone having broken in and the fact that it kept doubling in intensity as time went on. The list went on and on about their complaints ranging from things being moved around to always finding a light turned on in a room in the middle of the night. There most certainly was something going on if all of what they were saying was true.

The glaring parade of red flags that easily would send others running for the hills lured you in. Like a dog with a scent, you weren't going to drop the trail, oh no. You were there to sink your teeth and claws in and not let go. Come hell, heaven, or high water - nothing would stopping you.

True to your title, you were a paranormal investigator which warranted a lot more work and professionalism than the standard ghost hunters you saw on TV who couldn't tell the difference between a gust of wind and a ghost. Your job was to research, conduct a proper paranormal investigation, and provide your evidence - or lack of, if it was truly devoid of haunting. But here hardly sounded like it.

Taking your time and reassuring them that you were, indeed, a professional, you went over all the usual questions with them: when did this start, how old is your house, any history of deaths in it, have you acquired any new items recently, do you have any items that were second hand or antique, any family heirlooms in the house, was it in any particular location, etc etc.

Every angle had to be considered, especially the mundane. Plenty of times, people just had a poorly constructed house, deeply held superstitions, and a touch of paranoia to make for a perfect combination of nothing happening at all. That didn’t seem to be the case here, however. While none of their answers pointed in a clear direction of what it might be, it still all pointed to signs of something unworldly happening. But that's what you were there for. To determine if there actually was a ghost, why it was there, and maybe who it was (if things went well and it felt like cooperating). 

You bid them a good night as they headed off with family friends in a beat up convertible, chattering away without a care in the world as if they didn’t have a paranormal parasite problem. At least they were going to go enjoy their night by having an evening out instead of breathing down your neck like some of those who hired you. Locking the door, you trudged in with your gear and began the initial inspection with practiced ease.

A haunting in a house as young and modern as theirs was quite unusual. Open, airy rooms completed with white, sleek, almost eye-hurtingly clean interiors made up the entirety of the house. Even as night crawled higher and higher into the sky, pulling its dark cloak over the land, the house stayed bright. Nothing about it said haunted or caught your eye. The scariest thing there was likely the heating bill. 

As far as your research showed, there hadn't been a death in it or on the land. The owners also seemed quite appalled at the idea of antiques (go figure) so that went right out the window, too. Normally there might be some stashed somewhere that they weren't thinking about, like the attic, but this house didn’t even have that. No basement, no attic, no creepy graveyard in the back; it was a normal, suburban house that shouldn’t have anything going on.

Perusing the house at a leisurely pace, you browsed each and every room with a thorough consciousness of finding something, anything, that could possibly have started it. Yet you turned up empty handed. Everything was as pure and alabaster as the marble countertops and the expensive sleek metal furniture. 

Oh well, not every job would be easy. And not every haunted house was obligated to look run-down and rustic. Some ghosts just had more upper class tastes - or were unfortunate enough to be stuck in an eyesore like this. Maybe a ghost would add some actual personality to their home...

Seeing as they'd said there wasn't exactly a rhyme or reason as to where things would happen, you decided a central room was your best bet. The living room was open enough for everything and an easy place any spirits could find. It had plenty of room for your equipment and the open layout meant you had a great vantage point for the whole house.

Preparing your gear came as naturally as breathing to you, the tasks you've done dozens of times over were a matter of habit. Moving through the motions was your second nature as you worked, not batting an eye as you checked batteries and strategically stationed your gear. It only took a matter of minutes to have your cameras, light system, motion activated interactable objects, ghost box, and the rest of your fancy gadgets set up all around the room.

Placed on the coffee table was your heaviest piece of equipment - your modified spirit box that you had made some special adjustments to just to make sure your results were as accurate as possible. The broken antenna and attached amp weren't standard, nor were the noise reducers, but they stood as a testament to why you were a professional and why you kept getting called out to different places. You knew how to get results and tuned every tiny thing to your needs. There was no room for error or doubt alike in an already uncertain field.

Double checking everything was ready to go once more once more, you plunged the room into somewhat true darkness as you drew the curtains shut and pressed the button on the spirit box, causing it to crackle to life. Speeding through the static of radio stations, it scanned the many frequencies in a blur, far too fast for any natural noise to come through. The whirring of it evened out into a constant, muffled background noise that you’d spent countless hours listening to. Its familiar hum lulled you into a relaxed state, your heart as steady as your calm breaths despite the slight buzz of familiar adrenaline you always felt when you first started. A small beep signaled the successful activation of the digital thermometer as you walked around in a slow, even pace, checking all around. 

Taking a deep breath, you began as you always had. In a confident, but even tone you called out, “Is there anyone with me right now?”

....

........

Silence.

The static of the spirit box continued to filter through in its usual constant churning hum of white noise. Typical. Many supernatural beings wouldn't want to interact, especially not at first. You don't blame them. If a stranger barged into your house and demanded if you were there, pestering you with questions as threw their belongings around, you'd not want to answer them either. That wasn’t even considering that many were so unused to people hearing them or trying to talk to them, not at them. They didn't exactly register on the same frequency that humans did most of the time.

Walking around the room, your boots echoed on the tile flooring. Your footsteps ricocheted off of the high ceilings, amplified by the lofty ceiling and wonderful acoustics this house apparently had. Keeping your attention ever shifting, you kept alert for signs of anything happening. Looking too long in the dark and expecting things to happen would only yield false results and cause paranoia. You knew far better than to do that. 

Nothing lit up, nothing beeped, nothing changed. There was conclusively nothing happening for the first few, long minutes as everything kept at an unwavering constant. Visiting each room, you rechecked their temperatures and tried to find anything amiss or out of place. Yet all seemed well, still, and normal.

Only when you crossed the hallway back into the living room after a quick visit to the bedrooms did your hair stand on end. A chill ran down your spine, the once warm air now holding the barest bite of cold on the edge. Holding up the thermometer, you narrowed your eyes at the steady decrease. While it wasn't quite freezing, it kept dropping and dropping. Numbers ticked lower and lower, your hair stood further on end as a small shiver ran through you as the chill dipped lower and lower. Bingo. First sign of activity of the night. It wasn’t much but it was plenty to know that something was happening here.

Despite the crisp chill, nothing else shifted in the room. Silence prevailed behind the distant drone of your equipment; mainly the comforting, steady typical static of the spirit box. Even the appliances seemed to have gone quiet, exchanging their usual low thrumming rhythm for a break that suspended them in a noiseless limbo.

Your shifting movements echoed far louder than you would have liked as you paced around the room, looking for something new, anything. An actual tangible reaction you could record would be just what you needed but so far, the haunt was holding out.  “What is your name?” You asked, keeping your voice as steady as you can as you tried to switch it up. 

Continual feedback from the spirit box sounded as steady as can be. Still, there was no voice trying to get through it. The fabricated noise reigned supreme as it did its job, whirring away. Pressing your lips into a thin line, the smallest hint of a frown tugged at your lips as disappointment flickered through you. Okay, that's fine. It usually took a few tries anyways. 

A faint, sparkling crackle escaped from it as you heard one, tiny word in a rumbling timbre. One, single word that halted you mid step, your head snapping towards the machine. 

“Ghost.”

Doing a double take, a grin split across your face as your heart jumped with joy. A response! A true, actual response. Not that it exactly answered your question but it meant something was listening.

There was something here!

Nearly tripping over your own feet, you scampered over to your beloved machine. Your eyes fixated on the glowing orange screen, gleaming with glee. 

“W-what’s your name?” You repeat a bit louder unable to hide the excited tremble in your voice or hands, figuring the ghost likely didn't hear you right. 

Static white noise continued for a few seconds, the little x in the corner flashed once, twice, before it lit up solidly. 

“Ghost.”

The smile you held dropped only for a fraction of a second before you cleared your throat. Well, maybe your slight stutter and excitement got in the way. You did talk fast when excited, after all. Taking a deep breath, undeterred as can be, you repeated in a far steadier voice, “What is your name?”

This time you made sure to enunciate every single syllable, speaking clear and confidently into the air. 

One flashing X glowed in the corner of the screen. Another flash. A third. Fourth. Fifth.

Yet again, the deep voice came a bit louder and rougher this time. A thick Mancunian accent that barely picked up through the filter didn't dull the single word you were trying to avoid, “Ghost.”

Okay. Your brows furrowed deeper, your nose wrinkling slightly as your heart sank. The minor disappointment couldn't be kept off of your face as you really had hoped to hear something else. Approach one clearly isn't working. 

Maybe he didn't speak English. Or maybe he wasn't sure that he was dead. Whatever. There was a ghost and he was answering, that's what mattered, you reminded yourself forcefully until the smile came back to your face and the smallest bit of a headache dissipated. Focus on that. Not on the slight annoyance you felt and the agitated twitch of your fingers.

Exhaling, you pursed your lips. Your grip retightened on your flashlight as you racked through questions in your mind, trying to find something that it would have to answer differently too. 

“Can you do something?”

Hopeful, your eyes trailed around the room, praying that maybe the ghost would do something like interact with the many objects scattered about, or even the motion sensors. 

Nothing happened for a few long moments, silence once again prevailing in the otherwise empty house.

Orange light flashed from the spirit box as the X lit up again, only for a second before the dreaded word repeated itself. 

“Ghost.”

Before you could ask what that even meant, or curse it out for that matter, the spirit box and your flashlight shut off, plunging you into true darkness. The flashlight nearly flew from your hands in surprise as you flinched instinctually, your heart leaping into your throat. Frantically flickering the button of your trusty tool did nothing as you desperately tried to turn on your one source of light with the only way you knew how - only to be met with the continual sight of empty, non-shining bulbs. 

Curses spilled from your lips in all the languages you knew as you fumbled for a battery pack, only to find them missing. What? But you swore that they were right there -- ugh, nevermind. This just wasn't going to be your night.

The initial panic subsided as the chill left the air, the residual regular warmth of the house sinking into the room as if blown in by a lazy breeze. Your hair still stood on end as you walked around with cautious, hesitant steps, having given up on the flashlight. There wasn't coming back from that.

It's only when you approached the spirit box, trying to turn it on to no avail, that you realized what he meant. You asked him to do something and he obliged.

He ghosted you. 

God fucking damn it. 

As you glared at the air in frustration, threw your hands up and personally cursed the fiend, you could've sworn you heard a resonating chuckle behind you as breath brushed against the nape of your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine for a whole new reason.

[mandy-asimp]

Safe and sound

Emily Prentiss x reader

Warnings: uhh some violence against Ian Doyle not too much tho, Emily's a bit delulu but aren't we all

Summary: emily begins to see your face around more, but it's impossible. You were dead. But when Ian Doyle is rumored to escape, you couldn't stay dead forever.

A/n: sum slight, sum sweet, sum short😋

She was walking to the steps of her apartment when she first saw you. She at first thought it was the sleep deprivation catching up. You couldn't be here...you...you weren't there. She told her self that as she walked up the stairs to her apartment.

Unlocking the door and feeling uneasy. That couldn't be right. She hasn't thought of you in awhile...she avoided you in her memory. You were apart of a time she...she can't let the team find out about you.

How did you find her? The question ran in her head as she sat at her table. Head in hands as she just tried to wrap her head around it.

Sergio jumped into her lap. He was wet. "Were you out in the rain, buddy?" She pet his back, but then it dawned on her. She didn't check the house.

She moved carefully, trying not to alarm the intruder if there was one. Checking each room carefully before heading into her bedroom. Finding the window open and a little puddle.

Shaking her head she just scoffed. "You're crazy, Emily. She's not here...it's impossible." She took a few deep breaths.

But before she left the room she put her perfume on the lock, just in case. She followed her night routine still on edge. Eventually finishing and trying to catch some sleep.

~

A thud woke her from her sleep, if you could even call it sleep. She looked quickly to the window and finding it to be the closed still. But she was up...she might as well check the house once more.

"Serg?...Buddy you making a mess?" She called out. Hoping it was just the cat. Yet, he was asleep in his bed. Completely unbothered. Did she hear a thud? He would've woken up, right?

Emily ran her hands over her face, trudging back into her room. She didn't bother checking anything as she climbed back into the sheets. Closing her eyes and once again trying for sleep.

~

Her eyes slowly peeled open. The way she was laying had her facing her bathroom. And her body froze in terror. There you were. Standing. Looking at your reflection so casually.

Your head snapped over to her but it wasn't you. Your eyes were glowing red and you had this look of disappointment plastered on.

Emily shot up, sweat dripping off her body. Her head instantly shot to look into the bathroom. There was nobody.

Why? Why were you suddenly plaguing her thoughts? She was so sure it was over...you were lost in the case. One minute you were next to her, and then the literal next minute...tears were streaming down her face now.

Through tears she checked the time, she was already running late. So quickly, she pushed the day so far back into her memory and wiped her tears. Quickly working to get decent for work and dashing out the door.

~

It's been three days since she saw you...or maybe saw you. Her mind was all sorts of foggy and it was playing into her job now.

They were on a case somewhere. Derek and her were talking to a lady about some cab driver. They had just finished and watched her walk away.

Her blood ran cold as she glanced to where she could feel eyes on her. You stood on the corner, ready to cross, but you weren't looking at her. A car flashed by and suddenly you were gone. She couldn't think anymore.

"Prentiss?" Derek waved his hand in front of her. His eyes moved to match where she was looking, seeing nothing there. "Are you ok?"

She hummed and came back. "Huh? Yeah...sorry I just haven't been sleeping very well. I feel like I'm seeing things suddenly." She tried to joke around it, but Derek was a good friend.

He knew it was more but he wasn't going to push while on a case. Maybe back at the BAU where Garcia can also help figure it out. But until then, they had a case.

"Well, let's get this case over with and then you can take as much princess sleep as a possible." He lightly joked. Gaining a small smile from the woman.

~

She was back at the door to her apartment. There was this green box outside. Neatly wrapped. She knew that wrapping all too well. It made her stomach twist in ways she hasn't ever felt.

Her breathing picked up a little bit. Then her phone rang, she was quick to answer it. "Hey Emily!" Reid's voice came through.

He went on about a movie, but Emily was too busy clearing her house. Having to turn down his offer as she grabbed her files. Saying her goodbyes as she got back up, catching a glimpse of the mirror.

She met your eyes and immediately adjusted her hold on her gun. "What do you want?" She whispered.

"What?" Reid's voice was mere background noise.

Emily turned around and just saw the box from her door. "You don't scare me..." she called into her house. Her phone got thrown to her bed. "You're above this!"

She turned around the corner in hope to catch you. But then it dawned on her again, you can't be here. It's impossible. The paranoia is eating her alive.

Emily came back into her room, seeing her phone still on a call with Reid. "Shit.." she whispered as she picked up the phone. "Reid?"

"Sugar?!" Penelope's voice came loudly. "Are you ok?!"

"Emily?" Reid came in, Hotch close behind him.

Emily let a sigh out, "I'm fine...I'm just really tired. Sorry for worrying you guys." She was quick to hang up her phone. Giving them no space to continue to question.

She let her head fall back and groaned. Laughing at herself once again as she got ready to leave for the night.

The wrapping threw her off still. She wasn't going to let it be the reason something does happen. She knew how you wrapped your gifts. You gave her so many. You even explained why you wrapped how you did.

"It one, looks way cuter and is easy to unwrap. And two, it gives more precision to be precise and make sure it's perfect for the receiver. Come, I'll teach you and you can use it to become the second best gift wrapper. After me of course."

Your smile was huge that day. The two of you spent the day watching movies as you wrapped up your Christmas gifts for her.

~

The next morning, she walked into the bullpen. Confused as everyone was watching Hotch's office.

"What's going on?" Emily frowned. Coming up to everyone.

A few shrugged, but before anyone could answer Hotch came out. "Prentiss can I speak with you?"

She gave a nod and dropped off all her stuff. Walking into his office and seeing him and a file. "Sir?"

"This was left on my desk this morning. I was wondering if it meant anything to you?" He handed over the file.

She opened it and it was practically blank. The only thing in the middle of the paper was a picture of her and half another person who was kissing her cheek.

She tried not to freeze infront of her boss but it was too much for her to not. "Emily, do I need to be worried about your safety?" He leaned forward. "I can have cops outside your apartment if needed."

She shook her head. "Can I...can I keep this?" Her voice was shaky. Hotch had only seen her like this once before. With her friend awhile back.

"Are you going to make any irrational decisions if I say yes? The team can help you if you-" he stopped when she shook her head again. "Is everything all right?"

She took a big inhale, letting it go slowly and nodding. "I'll be ok...can I...um have the day though?" She asked.

It was easily granted to her as she recollected her stuff and left without much to say.

She wasn't going crazy...you were actually alive. But that would make sense on how you've been disappearing within seconds?

She tried to make it work, thinking all the possibilities that could explain something. Her thoughts carried her into her apartment.

It wasn't worth checking anything, if you were already getting in and out then...why can't you just come see her?

Why is it secrets?

An unwanted game of cat and mouse?

What is keeping you from her?

You know why, Em...you know why. Your voice rang in her head. She could hear how soft it still was. How much emotion you could hold within your words even just the word 'the'. You were her second half. The one who she could crumble against and it'd be ok. But she lost you. She might not get you back.

She flopped into the middle of her bed and cried. She was finally mourning you. In her own ball curled up. Staring blankly at the wall.

And on one blink, you were there. She could see you standing there. Head tilted just slightly to the left and smiling sadly at her.

"Are you even real..."she mumbled. Emily was tired of seeing you everywhere and it not being you.

So when you moved closer and placed your warm hand on her cheek she gasped. It didn't even take a second before she was latching onto you and crying heavily.

You held her back in silence. Just letting her get everything out. You didn't mind it though. It felt natural.

It felt like the first time you held her. And she could feel it too. That both hearts were full again, designed to be one with each other.

"But you're..."she sobbed into you. Clutching you tighter as she began to struggle to breath.

"Hey, hey...just follow mine." You led the deep breathing. "There you go hun, steady breathing ok?"

She pulled back from you and really took in your face. Holding your face and crashing her lips to yours. It made you laugh a little as you kissed back. It was well overdue.

"I thought you died?" She dragged you to the bed, neither of you thinking as you laid down and let her lay on top of you. Your hand finding its home in her hair as you detangled it.

You hummed softly, "it was my only way to protect you. Sometimes, we have to make choices for the better even if it means the worse for ourselves. Doyle...he..."

The name made her tense slightly under your touch, "what about him?..."

"He...he had bad plans and I found out about them. I told Sean and he pulled me out instantly. They killed me off and reassigned me....I watched you from afar recently because...he's escaped. He's been watching you and your team. And if I knew any better...we're the final two. I wanted to see you one more time." You explained to her. Hating that this is what was happening to you both.

She held you even tighter now. "How's everyone else?" She was scared to ask. More scared for the answer as you took a deep breath in.

"They don't know I'm alive, but they know Ian is out." You answered quietly. There was more to why you showed up and you knew she was avoiding asking you anyways.

She was silent as she laid with you. But in her own mind, she was a wreck. She didn't want to really think about why you were here. She already knew.

"Will you keep me safe...for just tonight?" She almost sounded afraid. "Even if you're not here when I wake up...just one more night?"

The moonlight made her eyes sparkle in a way you would be a monster if you said no. So you did all you could, you pulled her so incredibly closed and held her till she fell asleep.

However, you were wide awake. You knew you next move. You were sworn to protect Emily Prentiss ever since you met Ian Doyle. He was a man of secrets and you pulled apart each one just for her.

You both were at risk here, but you just wouldn't let the risk go far for her. That's why it pained you to leave her before her alarm went off. You placed a delicate kiss to her hairline before climbing out the window.

You didn't leave her with nothing though, that morning when she woke up she saw the small box on her nightstand. It had your signature bow o top and a small note next to it. Till we meet again, i promise.

~

It had been awhile. Rumors are Ian Doyle was dead, but nobody could confirm it. Nobody but you.

You had caught him when you least wanted to. When it was right there with Emily. Sitting across from her and threatening her team.

"I'm going to take the only thing you care about...your life."

That was the only thing that man had to say for him to become your only focus. You had followed him for days. Left him clues you were lurking. You knew your presence made him a bit uneasy. That's what you did best after all.

You noticed how his actions towards Emily moved slower than planned. He was trying to lure you out with her, but it didn't work as well.

You were in this man's home. That was his only warning you gave. After that everything was fair game. Especially once you heard he was continuing his plans. It made your blood boil and you felt no mercy.

So, you followed Ian on a motorcycle, it was easy and fast, just your style. He walked into a pub with a few guys, but that never stopped you.

You got a table to keep them in sight while you out of theirs. And when he got up and went to the bathroom, that was your opening. With a silent fire, you made him defenseless. You took your time in there with him. Making sure he felt the years of pain he caused. Then you left him there for someone else to find.

Leaving the state, the country, anything to distance yourself then. You left for a few years. Five in total (there was a lot to clear up before you could). Finally though, you'd get to be with her.

You wanted it to be a surprise so you figured, what better surprise then at work? You had gotten in as early as possible. Slipping a little note and little box on her desk before leaving unnoticed.

And by eight in the morning, you had received a text saying it can't be true. It made you smile as you texted her back that you promised her to come back.

As she read it she fiddled with the ring on her finger, bringing Penelope and JJ's attention to it. They were having lunch in Emily's office.

"Woah! When did you get that?" The blondes instantly grabbed for her hand. Inspecting the dark red gem. "They must really like you..." JJ joked.

Earning laughs in return, "I got it awhile ago...from an old friend." There was a distant tone in each word.

Neither blonde believing it was just a friend. They shared a look and rushed off. Hiding in Garcia's bat cave until the end of the day.

Emily was going to find it weird, but she didn't want to ruin her mood. She was excited for your next appearance.

What she didn't expect was it to be at the bureau. When you waltzed in with a 'delivery'. You made a beeline for her desk with a goofy smile as she tried to not laugh at your getup.

"Are you Emily Prentiss?" You tried to contain your smile, failing miserably as tears sprung to her eyes.

She didn't care anymore she just hugged you tightly. She had you again and it felt right finally. Nothing was getting her as long as you were there.

The room stared at you two. Who were you that Emily was crying the way she was? They could only see your lips move but couldn't hear anything.

"I know sweet girl..." you hummed. Holding her head in place as she cried heavily. "Just follow mine." And you led the breathing once again. Calming her down to get her to look at you. "Well look at you FBI section chief Prentiss." You eyed her playfully. Getting a strong wack to your arm. She aged beautifully.

"You don't get to joke after what you did." She frowned seriously now. "You've risked yourself too far." She was silent for a second, knowing she wanted to know. "What did you to him? Is he really dead?"

"The night he was in a pub... He went to the bathroom and I was gone before his guys could even think of the possibility. He didn't deserve mercy." You kept it short. There wasn't much to tell anyways, you moved quick in your line of work.

"So are you.." she let her question trail off, but you knew what she was asking.

"In a sense, yes. There is no real harm against me or you. Therefore I have no reason to stay moving." You bobbed your head, letting Emily's smile infect you.

She fisted your shirt and pulled you close, kissing you sweetly but fiercely. And when she pulled away she looked at you with a hopeful shimmer. "Move in with me then. Stay with me this time."

You easily agreed to her, not needing to even think twice about it. And that's when you both heard a throat clear.

Penelope was behind on everything as she watched the end of you and Emily's moment. "I want a name, now." She demanded from her spot in the couch.

The two of you laughed at her tone, but you stepped slightly back for Emily to take the lead. It was her choice if the team got to know more about you or not.

"This is Y/n." Was all she said, but that's all you needed to know there was still so much for you two to talk about first. "I'm gonna take a second lunch," she smiled at her colleagues before collecting her stuff.

There were many unanswered questions as you left hand in hand with Emily. Penelope and JJ began to share many possibilities on what could be happening. But they would all have to wait till they finally did get their answers.

[the-goo-goo-muck]

NOW PLAYING

CLUB: LEGAL ADVICE

Hiromi is just so overworked, & it's never as good when he's by himself, but you're so kind, of course you'll help him. . .

Starring: Hiromi Higuruma <3

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You’d thought long & hard, of course, about what on earth “massage therapy” might mean. It’s the only note Shiu had left under Hiromi’s name, like an asshole. You had the idea to ask him what he meant, but there was no way you were gonna come crawling to him for sex advice, especially considering he’d probably left that note there to purposely confuse you. No, you’d have to figure this one out solo. It could mean a couple of things, but you’d decided on a hand job. Keep things simple, right? You had been worried about the time limit; Choso had reserved you for an hour, which had made you anxious, but time had flown by. You could milk a hand job for an hour, literally. But maybe Hiromi would be different than your previous encounter; maybe he’d walk right in & tell you exactly what he wanted. You sure hoped so. You’d make sure to make him tell you, regardless of whether or not he wanted to. 

You repressed a scoff when passing Toji on your way past the bar as he gave you his signature shit-eating grin. “Where you headed in such a hurry, doll?” he smiles, letting the beauty of it paint his features. Fuck, you think, if only he wasn’t so goddamn hot. But that’s not just it; Toji knows you well, too well, knows things about you that nobody else does, things you wish he didn’t know, things that drive you crazy. “Oh that’s right, you’re off to fuck one of Shiu’s clients.” You could hardly call them that. “Fuckin’ sorcerers. You’re wastin’ your time with them, sweet thing.”

“As opposed to spending it with you? No thanks. Besides, you only fuck free whores. You want a night with me, you better be ready to cough it up, & last I checked, you’re broke.” You breezed past him, but he caught your arm & murmured in your ear with that gravelly voice that sent vibrations straight down to your cunt, “Not broke enough for you, doll. Don’t worry, I’m coughing it up, alright.”

Okay? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? But you scampered away before you could dwell on it. Getting into any kind of relationship with Toji, even some janky friends-with-benefits, work/fuck buddies situationship was a terrible idea. What was worse than that, though? You didn’t want those things with Toji. . .you wouldn’t dare admit it to yourself, but you wanted something real. 

You shook your head vehemently, though there was no one around to see you do it. You had a job to do, a job you were rather excited about, & you weren’t gonna let Toji distract you from that.

Shiu—or rather one of his assistants—prepared a similar room for tonight; small, secluded, mostly dark with music playing faintly in the background, & a chair reserved for the night’s activities. When you thought about it, it was almost a little awkward. However, you had had the same thoughts about Choso last night & it had been anything but awkward for you. 

So you kept your cool when you heard the soft click of the door a couple moments later. You were already facing him, & you could’ve sworn he had almost reached out to. . .shake your hand? But pulled himself back quickly. “Hello. My name is Hiromi. I assume you’re. . .Sugar?” The false name was purely sinful spilling out of his mouth, but his face betrayed nothing, the picture of sheer innocence.

You took a couple of calculated steps back & he followed, legs bumping against the chair. “Sure am. Now I’ve got a couple questions for you, Hiromi. There weren’t very clear notes left on my agenda; so what is it that I can do for you?” 

He clears his throat, obviously a little embarrassed by the question, but he gains a bit of confidence, meeting your eyes, saying, “Want you to jerk me off.” Okay, maybe he doesn’t gain that much confidence because he all but whispers his request, his plea. 

“What was that, Hiromi?” He shivers at the name, the way your tongue caresses it. “You want me to what?”

His face is all red, his tongue is all tied, his fingers are fidgeting with themselves, & he can’t meet your eyes when he says again, “Want you to r-rub my cock, jerk me off.” 

“Don’t know why you’re so embarrassed, sweetheart. Acting like I don’t want to.” You smile at him, saccharine & teasing, excited for the half-baked plan already forming in your head. Oh yeah, you’re gonna jerk him off alright, jerk him off ‘til he can’t take it anymore. The clock was ticking, & you were chomping at the bit to get a taste. “Can I kiss you?”

He nods, but makes no move to reciprocate, not until you’re pressing your lips against his, running your palms against the nape of his neck, down his chest, moving to loosen his tie, slide of his suit coat, unbutton his pants, palm his already stiffening cock, & he’s groaning into your mouth. 

“Can’t jerk off yourself, Hiromi? Gotta have some stranger do it?” you mock, sucking his bottom lip in between your teeth, biting. 

“N-never feels as good, can’t make myself cum as hard,” he babbles, fast, hoping his answer will please you enough to continue palming his cock through his underwear. You push him down into the chair, taking your sweet time to slip down onto your knees. If you were gonna be on your knees, night after night, you were gonna have to make Shiu put a bed in one of these rooms; a chair & the just wasn’t gonna cut it. But you'd make it work for tonight. You'd make Hiromi work tonight.

"Aww, s'so sad, don't you ever get yourself off?" You pause at the waistband of his underwear, a silent request, & he slides them down eagerly, helping you in any way he can.

"N-not like this," he pants, excited & worn already, though nothing's really happened quite yet. His pants & boxers came off quickly, & you're salivating by the time they do. He's all pretty & hard for you, & his dick is huge; not a surprise by how large he'd looked through his boxers, but a little shocking nonetheless. He all but yelps when you fist him at the base of his cock, hard, pushing all the precum from his weeping tip.

"Your tip is so sensitive, huh?" you coo, pressing your thumb hard into his slit until he’s attempting to run away from the pleasure. His eyes lock on yours, his mouth agape. 

“S-so sensitive, feels so good,” he whines, hips jerking to meet the lazy thrusts of your hand. 

How is he going to crawl back home to his fist, or even a pocket pussy, each night after this? After the tips of your nails scratch against his foreskin, after you trace each individual vein up & then down, after you squeeze the base of his cock, after your ghost your fingertips over his taint, after your grip your hand against his meaty thigh, holding him down so he can’t escape the pleasure you’re so intent on giving him? 

"Does that feel good, Hiromi? You're so wet down here,” you tease. He groans at your words, too focused on cumming to think of any sort of response, teasing & snarky or not. 

"Fuck, w-wait, please," he cries, the muscles in his thighs flexing & shaking as he tried not to get lost in his own sensitivity. You were just jerking him so fast; Hiromi was a methodical man in every way possible, including when he masturbated. He thought waiting for the high, edging himself for as long as possible, made the experience more enjoyable, but you weren’t taking it slow by any means. This might be the fastest he’s ever been able to finish. 

"God your hand feels so good, s’good,” he’s slurring his words, groaning as you keep your attention on his red, leaky tip, rubbing your thumb against the soft skin just under the head of his cock. “Gonna cum, gonna make me cum too fast.” 

“You can come, honey. Wanna make you cum, for me, please?”you encouraged,  & he’s shooting white, hot spurts of seed in your grasp before you even finish your sentence. 

Wow, he thinks to himself. I’ll definitely have to come back here again, see her again. The silly boy. . .he thinks you’re done. 

But you start stroking his softening cock again, bringing him back to attention disturbingly quickly. “H-hey wait, what’re you—what’re you doing? I just came, can’t—can’t come again!” But you ignore him because of course he can come again!

The sinful squelch echoes in his ears, his poor leaky cock is red & overstimulated & your hands aren’t helping;; if you didn’t stop, slow down soon, he was going to blow his load again, for the second time so quickly. helping echoing in his ears did very little to help him from blowing his load for the second time in five minutes. Your pretty, delicate, perfect hands were furiously stroking his cock, both of them wrapped around his length while you jerked him off using a screwing, twisting motion that made his legs shake & jerk. You made sure to pay extra special attention to his tip, rubbing your fingers down his frenulum each time you stroked him, making his body jolt & writhe in your soft grip. He’s truly putty in your hands. 

He moans helplessly, trying to process the unimaginable pleasure. He doesn’t usually mix his pleasure with this kind of pain, so maybe that’s why he’s cumming again, vulnerable & unable to stop himself. 

“it’s so much, oh my god it’s too much—hnggghhh—”

But you don’t stop, & why isn’t his cock getting soft, why does it feel so good, how are making him feel this way, why aren’t you stopping. . .

He can’t figure out what to do with his hands; maybe if he thought about it a little harder he could figure it out, but he can’t seem to focus on anything but the painfully sweet sensation of your hands, your lips on the tip of his cock, your fingers squeezing his balls, his cum coating everything, the twitching of his dick. He’s pulling his own hair with them, running them down his unbuttoned dress shirt, gripping the chair ‘til his knuckles turn white, holding on to your wrists for dear life, which does little to cease your ministrations with his pathetically weak grip on them. 

“Feels good, honey?” & you’re a real minx for that; of course it feels good, too good. Your voice is syrupy sweet, only adding to the deep ache in his balls. 

“N-no, no, s’too much, gotta stop it, can’t take anymore, gonna cum again, cummin’” he whines so pitifully, he’s shaking his head furiously, unable to form something coherent to say to you, anything to explain how fucking good your milking him. 

& at his complaints of “too much,” you’re squeezing him tighter in your hand, speeding up your stroking, he’s bucking up into your grip, lost in the feeling of it, unable to control the movements of his hips, trying to escape the pleasure, but he wants it so bad. 

“Ngh–no, m’gonna cum if you keep doin’ that, can’t cum again, c-can’t!”

“Can’t you? Don’t you want to? M’supposed to be makin’ you feel good, Hiromi. Don’t you wanna feel good?” If he had the ability to, he’d get you back for that, but there’s not a single thought running through his mind except for “feels good, feels good, feels good.” 

He can’t respond, only nods his head vigorously. He was leaking so much it’s difficult to say whether or not he’s cumming again, his body jolting around, face permanently twisted in sheer pleasure, sweet dripping down his temples, blushy red cheeks that match his angry tip. He’s just so pretty. He was previously trying to hold back in an attempt to. . .what? Impress you? Regardless, any ability to hold back is long gone

He was close, closer than you thought he was, & you really are impressed when he cums again for the third time, releasing a long whine of pain as his cum shoots into your hands again. 

When his cum finally slows down, you bring your finger up to his slit & start tracing it, coaxing more cum out of him, & he’s crying & whimpering, begging you stop, cock jumping into your hold begging you to continue; he grabs your wrists, hard this time, stopping you completely. 

“Aww, you’re all done? Can’t go another round for me?” Those eyes, he thinks, those eyes are going to be the death of him, if your hands don’t kill him first.

Night 2, complete.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

PART 3: BUSINESSMAN | coming soon to a theatre near you <3

[ahllohehn]

Uh, here's the infodump of another hermitshipping AU I have no confidence I will finish. As another answer to Castor's ask

For all his life, Mumbo believed that he was difficult to love. Though, yes, he was quite tall, gentlemanly, and had a lovely mustache– features that would attract plenty of people, but that’s not enough to show the world how much of a mess he actually is.

He preferred work over playing, spectating over participating, making art instead of finding love… Yeah, Mumbo had long concluded that he wasn’t cut out for a married life at all.

So when someone as lovely as Grian came around saying; “I like you.” Mumbo found it hard to believe. 

At the time, Mumbo had thought that Grian approached him either out of pity or because some friend had dared him to. At least, the blonde man had <i> looked </i> like he was forced there, judging by the way he kept fidgeting on the spot and was so red in the face he couldn’t meet Mumbo’s eyes. So Mumbo, without even questioning anything else, had just agreed to go out with him in hopes that he would help out the man from whatever predicament he got himself in.

At the time, he thought the relief and surprise on Grian’s face had been a silent expression of gratefulness for Mumbo’s mercy- for just agreeing to date him to get things over with. The raven haired man thought that he was being a hero to the gentleman in distress.

Mumbo went through about 15 dates with the man, suppressing urges to actually fall in love, fully expecting Grian to eventually break up and fess up that he won the bet with his friends and that they could both finally go back to their individual boring lives.

Mumbo waited.

Waited even after he took Grian into his apartment after his family had kicked him out.

Waited even after the 5 cups of coffee he brewed for Grian when was having a particularly busy night for an architectural project.

Waited even after they were both able to get up on the stage and get their diplomas together.

Waited even after they celebrated getting their first jobs together.

Even after deciding to get a house together…

Even after deciding to sleep on the same bed…

Even after they exchanged vows…

And it was during dinner when Mumbo was zoning out did he realize; 

“Wait, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go,” he mumbled out in surprise, causing Grian beside him to raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“What wasn’t how it was supposed to go?”

Mumbo opened and closed his mouth, staring at his <i> husband </i> in disbelief. In disbelief that he isn’t in college anymore, that they weren’t just <i> “dating” </i> anymore. 

They’re literally both sitting here, eating warm dinner together, under the same house they both own, way past the newlywed stage, and not at all broken up like how Mumbo had expected since the start.

“When are you divorcing me?” he blurted out mid-thought.

A loud ‘CLANK’ rang out at the dinner table as Grian dropped his fork, causing Mumbo to flinch violently in reaction, before then proceeding to outright shiver in fear as Grian’s expression turned from confusion to something akin to incredulity.

It was then that Mumbo realized what he had just said.

“What did you just say?” Grian stared at him with widened eyes. Mumbo swallowed nervously and was failing to meet the other’s eyes. He needed to explain himself <i> quick.</i>

“I-it’s just, you know! Are you not unhappy with having to stick with me for this long? I would’ve thought–” Mumbo was cut off by a slam to the table. He would’ve gone on a tangent about how Grian must’ve made a mistake to stick with him for this long <i> 7 years </i> into their marriage, but he was at least smart enough to know not to continue that monologue. 

Not especially when Grian, who was rarely actually mad, was actually mad.

“Why on earth would you think that? What makes you <i> think </i> I think that?” Grian’s face was scrunched up in an offended manner, he kept an intense gaze on the taller’s figure, urging for an answer.

Mumbo’s shoulders were hiked up to his ears, “Didn’t you marry me out of pity?” His voice came out squeaky, almost as if even his lungs were scared to work under Grian’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Would I marry someone out of pity?!”

“M-Maybe?! Didn’t you just date me because you were forced to?”

Grian’s jaw dropped and he looked at Mumbo as if he grew a second head. He hunched over the table and buried his face into his hands, letting out an extremely tired sigh that made Mumbo hesitate on whether he should take back everything he said and go reach out to comfort the man.

Not that he was given a chance to, Grian didn’t even meet his eyes as he stood up snappily, the chair screeching against their floor, “Good heavens, I need a moment,” and so he left, stomping off to their shared bedroom and leaving a cold half-eaten plate of dinner on the table.

Mumbo stared at his own plate with dread.

It was when the loneliness he prepared himself to get used to long ago settled over the dining table did he realize his situation; he’s not as prepared as he thought he was for a lonely life and he pissed off Grian. Even worse, he probably hurt him.

Mumbo could’ve sworn his own wedding vows had said he promised he wouldn’t do that.

“Pants.”

<hr>

Mumbo was having a bad day, although that’s mainly his fault and his fault only.

He went to the studio earlier than usual. <i> 2 hours earlier </i> than usual, but that’s to be the case when you can’t really get any more proper sleep on a couch that’s smaller than your own person.

After spending a gruesome dinner alone (or rather sitting at the dinner table silently questioning your life before deciding to put the leftovers away and cleaning up), Grian had expectedly locked him out of their bedroom. Mumbo had to remind himself over and over again through an uncomfortable cold, blanket-less night that this was the consequence of his own actions so he has no right to complain. 

He found himself grateful for Grian who decided to unlock the bedroom door some time in the middle of the morning to let Mumbo have access to his clothes at least. Although it was uncomfortable to tip-toe around the bedroom to avoid awakening the sleeping monster on the bed while preparing for work.

The scariest part was actually finishing preparations and leaving the room, thinking you had completed the stealth mission successfully, only to find out you didn’t. He hadn’t known Grian was awake the entire time until he heard a soft call from the bed.

<i> “Aren’t you forgetting something?” the monster of the bed had said. </i> <i> Mumbo swallowed and lingered by the bedroom door, looking around nervously as if to truly put thought into his answer, “Um, g-g-good morning?” </i>

<i> “....” Grian pushed him out of the room and slammed the door on him. </i>

“I messed up even more,” Mumbo groaned in remembrance of the scene this morning and melted into his office chair, barely paying any attention to the emails on his monitor screen. He thought diving into work would distract him from reminding him of how he ruined his marriage, but the dullness of work just had him thinking even more than he did back at home.

Grian wasn’t around, so Mumbo’s brain finally had the space to worry more about the situation rather than worry about sneaking around his own house. It left him tired, adding to the fact that he barely has any sleep.

He was too tired to react even to the sound of someone knocking on his door frame before rudely stepping into his office anyway.

“Well, don’t you look horrible,” newly entered Iskall pointed out with a worried but amused grin, putting down a cup of coffee on Mumbo’s desk, right next to the other empty paper cups of coffee. 4 empty cups to signal just how much he’s been chugging since this morning.

Mumbo did look horrible, “I’m very aware,” His eyebags that had always been there looked a lot more prominent now. His usually styled hair was unruly, strands sticking out in all directions. He looked as if he was there working since 2 days ago, but really, he’s only been clocked in for almost 3 hours, “Just started the day wrong.”

“What? Woke up on the wrong side of bed or something?”

Mumbo winced and brushed his hair back, tugging at it in stress, “I didn’t even wake up on a bed.”

Iskall didn’t respond immediately, staring at Mumbo like he was trying to understand what he was getting at. When his brain did finally come to a conclusion with the small hints Mumbo presented, he put on a dramatic look of shock, “Have you finally reached that stage of marriage in which the wife punishes her unruly husband by making him sleep on the couch?”

The raven haired sent a deadpan stare over to Iskall’s direction, making the man backtrack and change his tone, “Serious situation? Alright, I’ll bite. What’s up with your oh-so-seemingly-perfect marriage?”

“I think I made Grian mad,” Mumbo wasn’t one to talk too much about his relationships, as it had no connection to his work whatsoever and he didn’t really want to attach himself to the relationship too much considering that he genuinely did think there was soon to be an ending to it.

But now, seeing that his <i> husband </i> was actually throwing an angry tantrum for a rare time of his life, his brain is suddenly throwing all other thoughts out the window. It was as if he’s just forgotten that he was <i> expecting </i> Grian to have an incentive to leave him, now just focused on making Grian feel better because some part of his brain went through an ick seeing the man so devastated.

“I-I was just… I questioned when he was filing for divorce because I thought he would’ve left me all those years ago already. I thought he was staying because he felt guilty enough to commit to the bit… or some sort.”

The way Iskall’s face scrunched up incredulity reminded Mumbo of how Grian did the same, “You went through college together, made your friends suffer your disgusting pining all throughout, graduated together, shared a kiss at the marriage altar, and you <i> still </i> actually think Grian has just been staying with you because he felt bad for you,” Mumbo nodded along.

“The entire decade he spent with you because you thought HE PITIED YOU?”

Mumbo hesitated before nodding again, but more sheepishly. Iskall looked as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, which made the raven haired even more embarrassed for some reason. Mapping it all out, he knows it’s all stupid, but he hardwired his brain to long expect the worst for himself already. Mumbo genuinely felt that there was no way someone as good as Grian was allowed in his life.

There should’ve been a better possible world where Grian is happier, only to be stopped by none other than himself.

“Geez, if I were your husband, I’d throw a fit over you bringing up divorce too. Even more when you seem like you’re encouraging me to do it after dedicating my entire life to you.”

“But you’re not my husband,” Mumbo said defensively.

Iskall raised his hands up in surrender, “Chill, dude. I’m no homewrecker. Grian would cut off a limb if I even begin to think you’re my type.”

Mumbo huffs, “You’re so unhelpful.”

“I just asked what’s up, not that I offered to give you actual advice.”

<i> Fair enough. He did say that. </i>

Seeing as the conversation was going nowhere, Mumbo rested his head on the table frustratingly, his brain continuing to work overtime on trying to find solutions or explanations to this situation. Iskall pitifully patted him on the back as he silently tried to get his life together again.

“Do you really think he cares enough?” Mumbo finally spoke, causing his co-worker to snap out of his own daze and looking at him questioningly. The mustached man rose up from his awkward position and reiterated his statement, “Does he actually care enough to cut off your limbs?”

Iskall took his arm back to his side and slowly backed out of the office, squinting his eyes at Mumbo suspiciously, “I don’t think you’re aware as to how much Grian truly cares…”

Mumbo raised an eyebrow, his eyes following Iskall backing away, “Wh- Where are you going? It’s not like he’d actually go and cut off your limbs. It was a hypothetical question!”

“You really aren’t aware,” and Mumbo wasn’t even given anymore time to react before Iskall ran out of his office like his life actually depended on it.

<hr>

[l-in-the-light]

Why is Law more stressed, more serious and often grumpy and annoyed in Wano? Thought he would be relieved after Luffy defeated Deflamingo 🤔he couldn't even relax at the banquet 😑

Broody Law is actually my favourite Law, which means I enjoyed him so much in Wano ❤ But why is he delivering behaving like that, indeed? Let's summarize the Wano experience from his side, shall we?

his alliance with Strawhats gets sidetracked because Luffy went to Big Mom to retrieve Sanji. He barely avoided a conflict (not really)

he's stuck at Wano, worrying his ass off for Luffy, hoping he's not left with half of Strawhats crew to take care for forever now

everyone is dying of hunger and getting sick in Wano, because they can't stop drinking water from the polluted river

Luffy finally arrives, Bepo gets sick, Luffy in the meantime does The Worst Thing Possible and Law's efforts to patch up the situation do not work out

Luffy snaps and runs off to fight Kaido

Kaido bombs away Strawhats and Hearts crews while Luffy and Law are already near town and can't do shit about it

he fails to stop Luffy from fighting Kaido

he fails to stop Kaido from putting Luffy in prison

freaking Hawkins getting in his way

crews turn out to be fine, but freaking Kinemon soon leaves to find remaining Akazaya samurais. Now the whole raid plan and making sure it's not exposed is Law's job. On top of that, he needs to take care not only of his Heart Pirates, but also Strawhats, because their captain is in jail. Two crews, a raid plan and the weight of 20 years of revenge is all hanging on Law's neck.

freaking Germa (he's a Sora follower, ok)

he almost throws it all away when Hearts get put in prison

he's got accussed that his crew is crap and he should just kill them off, all that coming from his very own allies he's been taking care of for last couple of weeks!

freaking Hawkins again

getting tortured (just another monday morning amirite)

finding traitor and making sure the raid doesn't fail in the process. Is Luffy finally out of that prison, what is he doing there? Or maybe, that's for the best, he can't make the situation even worse...

Luffy arrives late to the raid and late to the rooftop battle

Luffy brought freaking Eustass Kid to the raid

Luffy is ordering him around in front of freaking Eustass Kid

Luffy tells him to get along with freaking Eustass Kid

Zoro-ya almost died on his watch

Kurashi-ya (literally) caught him in a middle of an embarrassing blunder

Eustass Kid is behaving like a newborn baby and Law has to babysit him

LUFFY BROUGHT FREAKING BIG MOM TOGETHER WITH HIM

now it's Law's job to fight Big Mom. He didn't sign up for this!

Luffy nearly drowned in the sea while fighting Kaido

Luffy lost and died while fighting Kaido

Luffy got revived and won against Kaido

Law had to make bigass room, bigger than anything he made in Dressrosa, probably cutting down on his lifespan in the process

Law has to take care of stuff no one cares about after the raid succeeds, which is taking care of the ships, searching for the poneglyphs (no one but him cared for that in the middle of the raid!) and probably patching many, many people up

he ends up stranded with Robin in some moldy underground chamber for hours, while being seriously exhausted, sleep deprived and in the middle of recovery from his injuries

he doesn't join in the banquet out of spite (no one told him about Jimbei joining the Strawhats. Is Law a joke to them?!), besides just in case a certain Luffy would assault him there, make him go all night long eating and playing around and celebrating, all the while probably bugging him to become a 100% part of the Strawhat crew or at least extend their alliance to together forever status.

And that's just the major things listed! I'm sure I missed some details here and there.

Overall, I think he was stressed and exhausted, because he was carrying a lot of responsibility (and the stakes were extremely high!), at certain points almost the whole raid plan's success was depending solely on him, while others merrily ignored the dangers. He also had two crews to take care of for the whole arc, constantly worried himself over Luffy, got pissed at Eustass Kid and had to cooperate with him (he hates that dude!), and at the end of it his world got almost turned upside down in worst possible way (Luffy dying and raid failing as the result, and the vision of all of them dying flashed before his eyes).

As Bepo reveals to us in the midst of Winner Island escape, Law wants to stay behind with his crew even if it kills him and needs to be reassured that no one is dying there. That suggests Law doesn't deal well with people close to him dying, which shouldn't surprise us after what happened in Flevance and later also to Cora-san. I'm sure Wano hit Law harder than we expect, because there he was, finally believing in people again (Luffy), only for Luffy to die on him as well. Old issues must have resurfaced and his fear of losing people worsened as the result.

I think we should cut him some slack, shouldn't we? Wano was definitely not a walk in the park for Law, especially psychologically-wise. Though to be fair, he could relax and laze around a bit, we see it happen, right before Strawhat Luffy waltzes into the country. That was the last time we saw him actually calm and resting, so I guess that alone gives us another answer to your question as well ;)

And then his alliance ended, and we know Law doesn't like dramatic things, which also means overly emotional goodbyes. It was probably pretty difficult for him to part ways and maybe he thought it would be easier if he avoided Luffy for most of the time after the raid finished. And then Chopper went and almost blew all his efforts up with his warm send-off! Law owes a lot to Strawhats and his debt is only getting bigger, but it won't change his withholding personality.

Did Law find peace after Mingo was defeated? Not exactly, because I don't believe Doflamingo was Law's end goal. Just take a look at his reaction when Luffy finally wins:

Everyone is crying and celebrating, but Law's face looks like this instead. Does this look like a face of a person who finally got rid of his demons and is set free? What about Flevance, are we forgetting that? Law has a lot on his plate, Mingo was simply one of the obstacles in his way (but an important one!). If you want to know more about what I think about Law's end goals, I wrote about it here: https://www.tumblr.com/l-in-the-light/761556630027616256 (the topic starts somewhere around the second picture). That's why I don't think he is at peace or that his revenge is over and we shouldn't expect him to completely "move on" or reach perfect closure just because Mingo is now out of the picture.

There's one exception though. I do believe Law is showing his emotions more openly after Dressrosa. And I think it's actually a sign of him healing and partially moving on.

Because just look at this. Law was always annoyed with his beloved Cora-san as well, and yet we never doubt he loved him dearly. In Wano Law is acting the same way towards the Strawhats, openly showing when he's annoyed and angry. That's how he shows affection and worry. Compare it to Punk Hazard, when he's always holding back, stoic and cold, keeping his comments and reactions to bare minimum. Dressrosa changed everything in Law's emotional department. And the result is that he did open up to his allies.

Also I feel like it's my duty to remind the world about this, often overlooked, fact: so far Law celebrated in the feast exactly one time, in Dressrosa. He didn't join in on Punk Hazard, Zou or Wano. So it's not really a "Wano thing", but more like Law almost always choosing other things over feasting ;) personally, I think it's because of that "30 minutes on festival" rule he had in his household as a child. He's probably not used to just playing around for hours. Besides, we should never underestimate Law's pettiness. Not joining the celebration might have been as well just a petty payback of his, for every offense that happened to him in Wano, lol.

I'm not sure if you liked my answer, anon, but I hope you at least smiled a bit when I tried to mimick Law's grumpiness in this post :D

[toomuchracket]

i picture bday party girlie as being like Dramatically hot like the kind of hot where you can literally see heads turning when she walks past… so hot that everyone is like how did He bag Her???

and then flatmate is a girl next door kind of vibe like definitely gorgeous but where hot wouldn’t necessarily be the first descriptor until you see her let loose and you’re suddenly like i would kill myself for one night with her lol.

d word… drop-dead. like ur a goner the second you lay eyes on her. she gives cunty miniskirt and sunglasses strutting through london with her obsessed bf on her arm vibes.

office girlie i think i would beg her to be mean to me and i would like it but also she’d be my best friend. sheer tights and thick thighs and a leather blazer ohh i need her

barista girlie hallway crush… girl you get obsessed with because you always see her around and you can’t believe someone’s that gorgeous but you never go up to her

this didn’t really answer your question bc i think they’re all incredibly hot in different ways but if i Had to pick i think d word is the hottest <3

- heather 🫶

long post we r discussing everyone

the thing about bday party girly is that getting to that level of hotness was a gradual thing - not full ugly duckling transformation, because you were always pretty, but just finding your way in terms of fashion and beauty and discovering the styles you liked best and that suited you really well, and that did wonders for your confidence (which i think is like half the battle of hotness). but it still wavers, and you have a hard time with comparison to others (specifically, the girls you see matty with before you get together) and believing in yourself in regard to anything that isn't your writing ability; this is a leftover from your teenage years, where you'd only ever really get complimented on your brain and your writing and never on your looks, which you know isn't a big deal and it's nice people think you're smart but also... sometimes, when you're 16, you need to hear from someone that isn't your mum or your girls that you look nice lol. but you persevered with both writing and the style search, and it worked out well - one of the first things matty said when you guys were first introduced was "i've read your work! and i don't think it's fair that writing so good can come from someone so attractive. not fair at all", and when you realised that there was no punchline, that he actually meant it (he really did. he thought you were gorgeous)... yeah. we know what happened next

flatmate YES ok like you really are just so pretty and (as we know from pre dating flatmate era) a lot of people think that as is and they fancy you BUT like you said it isn't until you loosen up or you get kinda animated that it really sinks in how sexy you actually are. like, matty's already excited to be sat next to you the first time you meet, but it isn't until you roll your eyes and say something sarky and smirk that he properly becomes enamoured; when you're yapping with some other people during a break and you start ripping into a boy who said something really stupid or mean or whatever... yeah, matty's a goner (he really would kill himself for one night with you lol). such a fun couple, the two of you, because you're both aware of how hot you are - i mean, you both have your moments of insecurity, we all do, but you're generally very self-assured. and it's hot to see. very

d word... so fucking true. and you don't know it! you're too busy doing 5 million things at once to pay attention to people Wanting you, and all your self-care beauty regimes/pilates/buying nice clothes is really for nobody but yourself, because - eldest daughters rise up - you're really the only person who takes care of you. and then matty happens, and you like him so much you let your guard down a bit and relax, and suddenly you have someone else who takes care of you so naturally it's kinda overwhelming, someone else who makes a point of proving to you just how beautiful you are, someone else you want to look nice for, someone else who loves you and appreciates you and is almost unhealthily obsessed with you; he's never not clinging to you, as if you'll disappear the second he lets you go, and never not looking at you like you're the most precious thing in the world. you kinda are, to him, though

office girly - coolest person alive i fear. kinda like flatmate in that you know you're hot, even without the myriad of incredible outfits you've painstakingly put together; i do think you're the best dressed of the tmr girls, actually. anyway! THE body - soft curves, long legs (thick thighs save lives), hips that matty wants to (and has, actually) take a bite of, possibly the best arse in london, and we've all read tiny bikini so we know what your boyfriend thinks about your tits lol. there's a running joke in your relationship that the reason matty (art critic) fancies you is because you're built like the girls in Classical art, which he denies like "not true! you have nicer boobs" lmfao little freak. people are a little bit surprised when the two of you get together, because he's so shy and quiet and weird and you aren't, but holy shit do you look good together - i think you skew slightly on the edgy side of the fashion scale, so literally you and matty (when he loses the cardigans) are kinda the hot alt couple everyone dreams about. also yes heather she would be your best friend she's so sound!!

barista girly is very reminiscent of the girl who got on the same tube as me at westminster station a year ago and had a striped shirt tucked into flared jeans and pointed stilettos on and the most flawless straightened ponytail i have ever seen - chic as fuck, and you see her on public transport ONCE and think about her forever. intimidating, but so alluring, and if anyone actually plucked up the courage to talk to you they would learn you're lovely and also kinda a massive flirt; that is, until you meet someone you really REALLY like (matty) and you get really quite shy and soft. that said, before you meet him, you do Fuck (people of all genders), and actually you (and your strap) are responsible for a really quite massive amount of Best Sexual Encounter stories, so you're very known for being sexy lol - incredible energy matching going on between you and matty, actually. like, it should technically be a sad day for everyone else when you and matty get together, but you just work so well and look so incredible together that everyone's like. yeah ok this makes sense. yeah, you're gorgeous

[missrosiesworld]

thank you THANK YOU for writing the sick!reader headcanons with Von Lycaon! \(//∇//)\ I was literally kicking and giggling my feet while reading it! (๑>◡<๑) like I absolutely adored how devoted and committed Von Lycaon is to taking care of reader’s well-being and making sure all their needs are met and just being so thoughtful and protective like UGH my heart was melting!

If I’m able to, can I request headcanons of the reader having to leave New Eridu for an extended period of time due to their work, family emergency, etc. and they won’t be able to see Von Lycaon during that time period? I expect a lot of fluff and cuteness from you!

I fully trust your writing skills and thank you in advance! I’m excited to see what you’re able to come up with! ♡

You're most welcome! It was so much fun to write! Thanks for requesting it 😊 Yes, I can write some headcanons and a short story about this new request. ❤️

Headcanons of Lycaon’s Partner Leaving New Eridu for an Extended Time

Quiet Worry: While Lycaon understands that his partner has to leave, he can’t help but feel a quiet, underlying worry. He’d try not to let it show, but his protective nature would make him anxious about their well-being.

Before they left, Lycaon stood close, his visible eye filled with concern. “You’ll be careful, right?” he asked softly, brushing a lock of hair from their face. His partner smiled reassuringly, placing a hand over his. “I promise. It’s just for a while.” He nodded, though the small frown on his face lingered.

Subtle Sadness: Though he tries to be stoic, Lycaon’s partner notices the way his demeanor softens with a quiet sadness whenever they discuss their departure.

As they packed, Lycaon sat silently beside them, his hand resting on theirs. “It’ll be okay,” they said gently, squeezing his hand. Lycaon managed a small smile, but there was a wistfulness in his gaze. “I know… it’s just going to feel different without you here.”

Messages and Calls: Lycaon would send thoughtful text messages and make phone calls to stay connected, expressing his feelings through small, heartfelt gestures while they were away.

During their time apart, Lycaon sent sweet, thoughtful messages: "I miss you more than I thought I would. Call me when you can. I can't wait until you're back." Occasionally, he’d send pictures of little things that reminded him of them—like their favorite spot in New Eridu or a beautiful sunset they would have enjoyed together.

Keeping Busy: To cope with their absence, Lycaon would immerse himself in his work and training, using it as a distraction from how much he missed his partner.

After they left, Lycaon spent hours training in the courtyard, his focus sharper than ever. Still, when he finished, he would pause, looking toward the empty space where his partner usually sits, watching him. A sigh escaped him as he wiped his brow, feeling the weight of their absence.

Counting Down the Days: Lycaon would quietly count down the days until his partner’s return, holding onto small reminders of them.

Every morning, Lycaon would check the calendar, mentally counting down the days left until their return. He kept one of their belongings close, like a scarf or a bracelet, sometimes running his fingers over it as a silent comfort.

Restless Nights: Lycaon would have difficulty sleeping while his partner was away, finding their absence unsettling.

Lycaon lay awake at night, staring at the empty space beside him. He sighed, his mind wandering back to them. He’d toss and turn before finally drifting off with their pillow hugged close, the faint scent of them offering some comfort.

Planning Their Return: Lycaon would start planning something special for when they return, like a quiet evening or a surprise gift.

As the days drew closer to their return, Lycaon meticulously planned a welcome-home dinner. He made sure to have their favorite meal ready and even picked out a small gift, something thoughtful to show how much he had missed them.

Relief Upon Hearing Their Voice: Every time Lycaon heard his partner’s voice over the phone, his tension would visibly ease.

Lycaon would relax instantly when he heard their voice during calls. "Hearing you makes everything better," he’d say, his visible eye softening as he listened, soaking up every word like a lifeline during their absence.

The sun had just begun to set over New Eridu when Lycaon heard footsteps approaching. His heart skipped a beat, knowing who it was before he even saw them. He stood at the entrance of the courtyard, waiting. The moment his partner stepped into view, his usually composed demeanor melted.

Without hesitation, Lycaon strode forward, sweeping them into his arms. His embrace was tight, almost desperate, as if he feared they might vanish again. "You’re back," he murmured, his deep voice laced with emotion. He buried his face in their hair, inhaling the familiar scent he’d missed so much.

"I’m back," they whispered softly, wrapping their arms around him just as tightly. They felt the tension in his body slowly ease as he held them.

Lycaon pulled back slightly, just enough to look into their eyes. His visible eye shone with relief and affection. "I missed you," he admitted quietly, his voice raw. His thumb brushed across their cheek, and without another word, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to their lips, pouring all the feelings of their absence into that single moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Lycaon’s hand still cradled their face, his thumb stroking gently. "It felt so empty without you here," he confessed, his gaze softening. "Don’t leave me alone for that long again."

His partner smiled up at him, placing their hand over his. "I missed you too, more than I can say. But I’m here now."

Lycaon smiled, a rare, genuine smile reserved only for them. "And I’ll make sure you stay close," he said with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around their waist as they walked back into the warmth of their home. "No more long separations."

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Up next we’ve got the post-season seven stories! (Lol that was some fun alliteration)

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷 (it might be a BTHB but i’m loving the family feels! Loving chris’s new understanding of eddie but hating how he got it - diaz parents better watch out!)

🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️ (there was only one bed! Seriously buck and eddie really thought it through and this was the only option. Like really there was nothing else to be done. No don’t think about it too much just trust them! 😝 i’m so pumped for this one!)

- PCA <3

Loving the themes!!

45 for 🦷 (Yay! thank you!!!!):

---

“Christopher,” Eddie exhales, voice barely audible. It hurts too much. 

“I thought I’d feel better because they’d comfort me, but all they do is make everything feel worse.”

“Okay,” Eddie mumbles. He takes the tub of ice cream from his son and places it in the overfull basket. Then he puts the basket on the ground. He pulls Christopher into a hug. “I’m sorry, Chris. I’m sorry it happened this way.”

Vaguely, Eddie is aware they’re having this conversation in the frozen dairy aisle of a grocery store. Not, like, a therapist’s office. Which is what he might have preferred. But, fuck it. Chris is ready to talk. 

“It made me sad for you,” Chris blubbers. 

“For me?” Eddie asks.

“Yes, you, Dad!!” Chris snaps. “Because I always had you to make me feel better, but who did you ever have? Did you ever feel okay?”

Eddie is shaking a little.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Chris.”

“But I am.” 

Fuck. Fuck, Eddie doesn’t know how to fix this. He doesn’t know what to do. It’s like Christopher’s brain has matured a big lunging step forward over the summer and he’s seeing Eddie as a whole person and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that. He’s not supposed to be something Chris worries about. 

“Christopher,” Eddie says. “I… Okay, maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ve spent a lot of my life feeling kind of bad about myself. But I’ve got Buck and Bobby and lots of friends that help me. I’ve got you. Being your dad makes me so happy, okay? So you don’t need to worry about this.”

Christopher makes a small, frustrated noise. “And-and I’m working on it, okay?” Eddie reminds him. “I’m working on feeling better about myself, and who I really am, and not… Not hiding. And it’s going to be better. It’s all going to be better, and it won’t be like this forever, okay?”

---

48 for 🛏️ (There was simply no other way!)

---

“Therapy,” Eddie answers. 

Buck tries not to react. He hadn’t known Eddie was going back to therapy. Despite multiple suggestions from literally everyone in his life. 

“Cool,” Buck replies. 

“Where were you?” Eddie asks. 

“Mowing your lawn,” Buck replies. 

The city has regulations, after all. 

“Oh,” Eddie replies. “Fuck. Sorry, Buck, I…”

Buck squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Therapy is more important.”

That same night, the compliments sort of… Well, they amp up. They go from Buck being nice, to both of them being… Well, something. 

It starts innocently enough. Buck’s fault, as per usual.

“You look cozy,” Buck says as Eddie - donning an oversized sweater - flops down on the mattress to watch a show. They’re trying to catch up on old episodes of Hotshots, now that they know Bobby is going to be advising for the next season. 

Eddie looks down at the hoodie. “Oh? Uh, it’s yours.”

“Mine?” Buck asks. 

“Mine are in the laundry.” Eddie says. “Sorry, I can go home and grab more.”

“No, no, no,” Buck blurts. He doesn’t want him to stress or think he broke some sort of boundary. “You look good in my sweater.”

Eddie freezes. “I look good in your sweater?”

Fuck. Why did he say that?

“Uh, yeah. Sure. You look good in every sweater.” 

“Do I?” Eddie smirks. 

Fuck. This is a disaster. 

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

could you write your dating shauna hc please? i love your writing btw ❤️😭

Dating Shauna Shipman Headcanons

YAY A REQUEST FOR MY BBG SHAUNA YIPPEE

Ty anon <3

Implied fem reader, could probs be gender neutral, used she/her pronouns like once

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

Pre-dating/how you got together

The two of you started talking/hanging out because you were paired up for a project

At first you thought she hated you because she was always very quiet around you, like barely speaking to you even when you speak to her

Turns out she just had no idea how to make a conversation with you. That is, until she came over to work on a project and saw that you had a few of her favorite books. All of a sudden, she's very talkative. At least Shauna levels of very talkative

She starts hanging around you more, not really saying anything but if she sees you in the library, she'll come sit down next to you

After this happens for like the fifth time in a week, you ask her if she wants to maybe go get a coffee and study together

Shauna looks so shocked for a moment, and you wonder if you've misread the entire situation

Then she does her embarrassed little smile and is all "that sounds nice"

Two days later you're meeting her at a coffee shop and you have like the time of your life, she's so incredibly smart, but also so funny

You two start hanging out at least once a week, and sometimes you'll sit with her and the Yellowjackets at lunch

This goes on for a few months, both of you obviously having feelings for each other but neither of you saying anything

Until one day you think "fuck it" at the end of one of your study sessions, and kiss her when you leave. Just like a quick kiss on the cheek and you're out the door

She calls Jackie that night completely losing her mind, asking what to do

Jackie's all "Shauna she likes you. You idiot. Call her." But Shauna can't bring herself to call you

You're wondering if you fucked up the friendship until she's completely normal the next day at school

Nothing changes for like a week until she gets absolutely wasted at a party that you're both at

She comes to find you and she's so drunk that you're like "okay we're leaving." And you drive her back to her house

When you get there, she asks you to stay the night with her, and who are you to say no when she's this drunk?

You stay the night and she confesses she just didn't know what to do when you kissed her, and she didn't know if it was just friendly/that was how you showed affection

But she "has feelings for you or whatever and she knows they're probably stupid"

You're giggling and she's all pouty until you tell her that "obviously you have a crush on her you idiot"

OKAY now to when y'all are actually together!!

She leaves little notes for you in your bags/locker/ your room. They're mostly things she doesn't want to say out loud or reminders of things she wants to talk about

Loves to trade books with you and annotate them. Sticky notes galore. Some are like actual annotations and some are just "reminded me of you/us :)"

JEALOUS SHAUNA mmm... glaring when you dance with someone else at a party, even if it's literally Jackie or Taissa. She doesn't care, you're supposed to be hers.

Making you wear her flannels out... especially if she isn't going to be there with you (also loves to leave lipstick marks/hickeys)

Gets VERY touchy when she's drunk. Arm around your waist, head on your shoulder. Kissing you any second she can

Less touchy sober, but still likes to be touching you, things like holding hands or just sitting next to each other

When you're alone, though, she will not let you go. She's def a cuddler

Double dates with Jackie and Jeff 😭😭😭 they're hella awkward because half the time it's just Shauna and Jackie talking and you and Jeff sitting in silence. Not your fave date nights

Shauna is a clothes stealer. You have any flannels? They're hers now. Sweaters? Great. You've been dating for like two months when you realize half your wardrobe is gone

In her defense, though, she likes it when you take her clothes, too.

You're constantly hearing shit about Jackie and all the other Yellowjackets. Like "Taissa and Van are hooking up, I think" and "Jackie won't shut the hell up about states" you honestly feel like part of the team

Eventual double dates with Tai and Van that are 10x better than the Jackie/Jeff ones. You actually feel like you can talk

Shauna is constantly giving you new book recommendations and you're like "how do you read so much you're always so busy" and she just shrugs

Modern! Shauna that hates TikTok but whenever you show her a cute couple trend she gives in and does it with you

Modern! Shauna who never responds to texts/dms. Even from you. If you have something you really need to ask her, you have to call

[ninyard]

Okay I NEED some Allison headcannons

Here’s some ideas if you need any lol:

Like how does she help Neil feel more “normal” after everything that happened? I feel like Matt, Dan, and Renee would probably walk on eggshells around him for a while, even after Nathan dies and the championship game and everything, cause now the adrenalines over and now they have to deal with the aftermath. I feel like Allison would just treat him normally. Not unkindly, but give him a sense of normalcy, yk?

favorite ice cream flavor

How does she react to Seth’s death post-aftg? How do the rest of the Foxes help her process her grief about Seth? Cause from Seth’s death to the last championship game is about 8 months, and death (especially of someone you love) doesn’t just go away like that fast ofc

Favorite brands? (She definitely owns AT LEAST once juicy couture set)

Music taste?

How do you think her relationship is with the other foxes? What are some things that she talks about and does with one person, but might not do with another?

How motherly she is with Neil. Seriously we all know she dragged this boy by the ear to the mall so she can buy him some real clothes.

Some chaotic Allison cause this bitch (affectionate) definitely has done some crazy, weird shit

Girls night with The Girls!! (And Neil, he’s an honorary member)

her friendship with Andrew (srsly i so hc them being friends..they’re both judgy rude bitches (in a good way) so there’s no way they’re not like..secretly watching shitty reality tv together)

Sorry about how long this is! Make sure to go eat and drink some water Nin :)

-💜💜✨

YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME bc now i just. want to write about them all so

I feel like Allison wouldn't tiptoe around the things Neil's been through or done. She's been straight up with him before about all of his lies and how she doesn't/didn't trust him, so I think if there's something on people's minds, she's not going to step around it or avoid the elephant in the room. If she's pissed, she'll tell him. If she doesn't understand something, she'll say it. But I think Neil would appreciate that more than knowing people are talking about him but won't just come up and ask him something themselves. It'd feel more normal if she addressed it, rather than just leaving a tension in the air/nobody feeling like they can joke about it or anything with him.

Some sort of sorbet. She used to say something like lemon, but truth be told her favourite is raspberry.

God, grief works weird. I think she cried. A lot. I think she spoke to Bee about him a lot, and I think every time she heard his name or saw his picture it was like she was finding out he was dead all over again. I think it was really, really hard for her. As much as they fought, as much as they broke up and got back together again, he was her rock. He was all she had, he knew her. She doesn't really have family to rely on, she can't call her mom or dad up to be like "My boyfriend died and it's destroying me". I think it was a very lonely time for her no matter how much the team insisted they were there for her. (I would worry about her recovery in the immediate aftermath of his death - I like to think that Abby was really looking after her for those first few weeks to keep her on track and make sure she was being safe and kind to herself)

Youre SO right with the juicy couture. That's just such a given when it comes to this series. Maybe she wore Abercrombie and Fitch too but i don't really know any other brands from 2006 oops

She's a bubblegum pop girly i think. Probably fucked with Avril Lavigne and Rihanna at the time. In my head she's a girls girl so Kylie, Britney, Fergie, P!nk and Beyonce. All the ladies like that.

I've mentioned my thoughts on her and Kevin before and how their relationship as friends develops post-TKM but as for the others. I think Dan, Matt and Nicky are the ones she's closest with, but the first one she'll call for advice is Renee. I feel like Nicky is literally like her gay best friend and they're ALWAYS arm-in-arm. If she needs someone to go shopping with it's always him. They're always bitching and gossiping. Her and Aaron aren't very close, especially considering the choking incident, but I feel like they still appreciate each other on the court and still with hug and congratulate each other when they do well. I don't know about her and Andrew either. That's a tricky one, also considering the choking thing, but I know she's also not afraid of him, either. She sees what he did for her after Seth's death, and so that have a sort of mutual respect, but I don't think they're exactly friends. I feel like her and Neil would be pretty good friends, but aren't exactly going out of their way to hang out with each other.

I LOVE how much she cares about Neil. I think he's cute to her. I think she literally wants to pinch his cheeks and cuddle him even though she knows everything about his past and what he is capable of. He has that Wesninski smile and she's like AWWWW

Like. Listen. I do feel like Allison can be NUTS. I feel like if she didn't restrain herself she's the kind of girl to key someones car for cheating on her or pop someones tyres because they catcalled her. She'd fight anyone on a night out to stick up for her friends, even if she's just about blackout drunk, she's ready to fight. I feel like she's had one of those movie moments on the court where she screams. Like you know what kind of scream I'm talking about. One of those movie girl screams. She can be a total cunt if she wants to be. But most of the time she doesn't

okay i want to write more about the last two but im trying so hard rn to clear my inbox and drafts because i feel like so many ppl think i'm ignoring them so i will leave you with these few thoughts on Allison <3