#i'll make a separate post for John's

[mikonez]

A bit of world hopping

[the-californicationist]

Lost the post but it was so good and I'd love to get your take on it!

Price getting videos of you playing from home while he's deployed, and you aren't exactly quiet. Well, the boys hear it and it leads to them watching it at some point (with your permission of course!). I thoroughly believe Price loves showing off what's his and is comfortable in your relationship to consider sharing you with his team, maybe even in more ways than 1?

Maybe Price and reader record themselves a separate time to show the boys? I don't know I'm frothing at the mouth thinking of Price showing you off!

I am slowly making my way through these asks!! Thank y'all so much for being patient. As soon as I clear out my list, I'll turn the ask button back on.

This premise is so hot! Hope this is sort of what you were looking for?

Show and Tell

Price opened your video in the middle of Ghost’s briefing presentation. Luckily, only the task force was in attendance, but as he played the clip, your lust-filled moans echoed throughout the small conference room, unmistakable. All eyes turned to him, and Ghost halted mid-speech.

“Uh, sorry…” Price muttered, quickly swiping away. 

“Fuck, Cap. I know you showed us her photo, but she is damn fine,” Gaz chuckled, leaning over his commander’s shoulder to try and look at the screen.

“Eyes front, Sergeant.”

“Only seems fair to share, mate,” Johnny quipped, a gleam shining in his eye. 

Ghost put his hands on his hips, 

“If it was important enough to interrupt my presentation, maybe it’s important enough to share with the class… sir.”

Price sighed and sent off a quick text. He was asking you for permission to share. It wasn’t the first time that he’d asked you, but all the others had just been the odd picture here and there; a fancy neglige, or a holiday swimsuit… it was harmless. But, this was something else. To his surprise, you messaged back with an affirmative “Yes!” and a winking emoji. 

“Fine.”

Ghost held his hand out and beckoned for the phone,

“C’mon. We’ll put her on the big screen.”

Reluctantly, and a little worried things had gotten fully out of hand, Price handed over the phone. Your enthusiastic response was the only thing propelling him forward at this point. He wasn’t possessive, but he wasn’t much of a sharing man. 

But, then, there you were… in all of your beautiful glory. You were using your vibrator and sitting on the tile floor of your bathroom, burying a thick silicone dildo in your pussy to the hilt. Your moans echoed through the room again in spectacular 4k. 

“Mmm! Oh! Fuck… John, fuck me. Please! Yeah! Mmm. Just like that. Ungh!”

And then the video replayed on its loop. Every time, your shining lips would buzz with the whir of the vibrating wand, and your pink pussy would stretch to accommodate the toy that you were fucking yourself with, slicking it with your fluids and making it gleam. Your tits were bouncing as you rode it up and down, and your head was thrown back in beautiful abandon. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Price decided. 

Ghost handed him back the phone with a sly smile, 

“Holy shit, Cap. She’s quite the little spitfire.”

Soap’s hand reached into his canvas pants and obviously adjusted himself, hardening like a stone. He let out a low, approving whistle. 

“She let you share that?” Gaz asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Price nodded, not sure what to say. 

“I want to see more,” Soap put a hand to his forehead in shock.

“Well, that’s all,” Price shrugged, and then added, “...for now.”

The whole room shifted a bit. Everyone was on edge. The rest of the briefing went by as quick as a flash, but before everyone left the room, Price suggested, 

“You know, it would only be polite to send one back.”

Later that night, he got three enthusiastic notifications. In each one, his men were jacking off to her, complimenting her, talking about what a pretty pussy she had, thanking her for sharing with them. Unzipping his pants, Price decided to add one of his own. 

As his hand worked him hard, he watched your video over and over again. He imagined how your tight little cunt felt around his cock, and how sweet you tasted. He imagined how you liked to whisper naughty things in his ear, talking to him about sucking him off in front of his task force, making them watch. Price knew you wanted to do more exhibitionism, and he encouraged you when he thought about how hot it would be to watch you discovering that pleasure. 

His cock throbbed in his hands, and he whispered into the phone as he videoed himself, 

“Such a naughty girl, you were, showing yourself to my men. We put you on the projector. You looked incredible, missus. You always look incredible. Had all of us achin’ for you. Thought Soap was gonna come right there. Ungh…”

Price tightened his grip and thrust into his palm, rubbing his foreskin up and over his swollen head, slicking himself with his precome over and over and over until it became almost too much. He told you,

“So, we decided to pay you back. For your gift. Hope you send us some more, baby. So fuckin’ hot. Mmm, fuck… my cock misses you, love. So bloody much. F– Fuck!”

Price’s orgasm erupted from his body, coating his belly in white, creamy liquid. He just kept coming and coming, thinking about how you would look with all your pretty holes filled twice. Stuffed so full with no escape. 

He sent off the files one by one, starting with his own, and he waited for your reply. 

The next morning, he woke up to two messages. One was a text, and the other was a video. The text just said: Wish you all were here with a heart emoji. When he played the video, he realized what you meant. 

You had lined up your toys, four of them, all in a row on the bed. Price pressed pause and went to go find the boys. He decided it might be better if they could all see your performance together. He set you up on the projector again, and his men filed in one by one, eager to see what you’d sent. 

“She said she wished we were all here, so I thought you lads might want to see what she sent.”

“Fuck yeah, we do,” Soap sat front and center, wiping a hand down his face, eyes glued to the screen. 

Ghost chuckled, 

“You’re a lucky man, sir.”

“That’s the fuckin’ truth, innit?” Gaz agreed. 

Once everyone was settled, Price pressed play. 

You were wearing a little black bodysuit made of silk and lace, and he could see your dark nipples through the fabric. He knew which one it was. It was crotchless, and just the memory of fucking you in it made him hard.

You sat on the bed, the four toys spread out in front of you, and you picked up the first one gently. You grabbed some lube from off-camera and squirted it all over the toy and leaned forward, squatting over it, working it into your asshole in tight little thrusts, moaning ever so sweetly as you let it fill you up. 

Then, once it was fully sheathed inside of you, you reached for the two toys in the middle, using the lube that was left on your hands to make them slip against each other. You used one to rub through your pink folds, teasing your hole with the head of it, and then — inch by inch — pushed it into your wet pussy. You took the second one and, with quite a bit of difficulty, tried to fit it in next to the first, stretching yourself out even more than you had in the first video, even with these much smaller toys. 

Price couldn’t believe his eyes. You were like some sort of sex goddess, showing off skills he didn’t even know you possessed, and your screams of pleasure were making him drunk with pride and lust. He heard a zipper go down and watched as Gaz started fucking his own hand, right in front of him. 

“Sargeant,” Price admonished him, but Gaz just shrugged and kept jerking off his long dick, 

“Sorry, Cap. Can’t help it.”

Another long moan from you drew Price’s attention back to the screen. You were reaching behind you, wrapping your arm around your body, and fucking yourself in the ass with the largest toy, calling out to him, 

“John… please. I need your cock… I need all of your cocks… ungh, fuck. Fill me with your come. Every hole. Please?”

Then, for your final performance, you used your free hand to feed the final toy into your throat, gagging on it and letting your drool run down your chin. Your legs were shivering, something that Price knew wasn’t easy to achieve. You must be so damn horny. He smiled, palming himself over his jeans, so proud of you for bringing yourself such pleasure like that. 

Ghost grunted, and Price looked over to see him hunched over, spilling his come onto the floor of the office. 

The video ended, and in the silence, the captain heard the wet milking noises of his men fisting their erections, trying to come to your incredible performance. 

Soap gasped breathlessly, 

“Hit play again, Cap’n. Please…” 

Price smiled, looking down at his team in all of their sex-addled joy, and pushed the replay button.

"Maybe we should all put in for some leave, hm?" Price suggested.

He was met with a very enthusiastic round of approving moans, and he felt the excitement rush across his skin like wildfire.

His pretty girl would have what she wanted, and he would make sure of it.

If you liked this story, you may also like one of my other fics: He Shows You Off! But, please heed the tags.

[wildechildwrites]

Promise

John Price/Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: lil bit of angst

No Use of Y/N

Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Your husband comes home unexpectedly with his team in tow

A/N: *Posts something* *Disappears for another four months*

AO3 Link: Promise

John’s posture visibly relaxes as he steps through the front door, knots in his shoulders unraveling as he rounds the corner and spots you. The sun’s setting, golden rays filtering through the kitchen window, wrapping everything in a warm glow. You’re stirring a pot on the stove, humming to yourself, and as you turn to look at him, lips curving softly, John murmurs a hello, voice reverent with poignant adoration.

Your bright eyes flick from his to the three curious pairs behind him, and you click your tongue in disapproval. “John, if you'd called ahead, I could've ensured I made enough for your guests.”

“They're not staying long, love, just–”

“Oh, nonsense,” you cut him off, waving your hand as if to brush away the thought, tone authoritative. “You sort your business, and I'll see what can be done to stretch the meal. Honestly John, what kind of first impression is that; me turning out your boys without dinner?”

You cross the warmly lit kitchen and give him a quick peck on the cheek before introducing yourself to his companions, a bright smile on your face. Soap hasn't quite managed to pick his jaw off the floor, so Ghost leans over and shuts it for him. Gaz smiles back at you, recovering from his shock with more ease as he extends a hand to you.

“I'm Kyle,” he says keenly, and the stormy face of his captain, standing just out of your eye line, makes him quickly drop your hand. “The boys call me Gaz.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Gaz.” You reply, genuine warmth threading through your voice before you turn towards the two other men. “You must be Ghost and Soap.”

“Aye,” Soap replies after a beat, “Price never mentioned he had a…” he trails off awkwardly, and Ghost smacks the back of his head. You laugh lightly, not having to look at your husband to feel the glare he’s shooting his soldiers.

You reach your hand towards John, and he tangles his fingers in yours automatically, pulling you towards him. You give him a playful smile before turning back towards his boys. “He’s a big advocate of separating work from home. Won’t even let me call him Captain.”

The suggestive lilt in your voice makes the men duck their heads, and you turn to John, watching the tips of his ears turn pink with barely concealed glee.

“We’ll be in my study,” he grumbles.

The men can hear your laughter ringing as they head down the hall.

You can’t help the thread of anxiety twisting low in your stomach as you add more broth to the soup you’re making. The less you know, the better, but the unexpected presence of John’s entire team sits poorly with you. He didn’t even send you a warning text, entirely out of character, exacerbating your unease. Muffled voices filter through the walls, and you try to distract yourself, curbing your instinct to eavesdrop. The soup is simmering on the stove, so you go to the pantry and grab a box of brownie mix and a bag of chocolate chips, quickly mixing all the ingredients together and popping the pan in the oven.

You’re licking brownie batter off the spatula when John comes back into the kitchen, and you can tell by the expression on his face that you’re not going to like whatever he’s about to say. He takes large, quick strides towards you, and you manage to toss the spatula in the sink before he sweeps you into his wide arms, tugging you to his chest in a tight embrace. You inhale as deeply as you can, pulling the familiar scent of him into your lungs.

“I’ve got to go out of town.” He finally says gravely. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to contact you until what needs to be done is done.”

There’s a high price to being married to a military man. John’s gone more often than he’s not, and when he does slink back home to you, it’s always with new scars and fresh nightmares, things that weigh on him in a way you’ll never be able to comprehend.

You know, with a sort of inevitable finality, that John won’t get to retire. It’s not in his nature, and no matter how much he loves you; he loves the job more. He’ll come home in a box one day, and every time he leaves, you have to accept it might be the last time you’ll see him.

Unwanted tears gather in the corners of your eyes, and you give yourself a moment, face pressed against John’s chest, willing yourself to be strong. Your voice is muffled when you finally speak, unwilling to pull away from the comfort of his arms.

“There’s a go bag full of clean clothes in our closet. When do you need to leave?”

John squeezes you tighter against him, burying his nose in your hair. His heartbeat is loud in your ears, steady as always.

“We’ll stay for dinner, but we’ll be leaving tonight. I’m so sorry, love.”

You dance around each other like it’s a normal night, basking in the warmth of the oven and his company, choosing to ignore the tug at your heart strings, the quiet sounds of his team filtering through the wall. You can feel his watchful eyes on you while you fill the bowls with generous scoops, but you pretend not to notice, humming to yourself with a cheer you don’t feel.

The timer on the oven dings, and you pull away, quickly turning so John can’t see the redness in your eyes. You know what you signed up for, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“I was going to make some grilled cheese to go with the soup, will you get them started?”

The silverware clinks merrily, the living room filled with the sound of quiet chatter. The table hasn’t been this crowded since two years ago, when you convinced your sister to come for a visit. She’d brought her little ones, and John had doted on them, acting so soft and attentive, making you absolutely melt. You see echoes of that same care in his interactions with his men, hidden beneath an artificial shell of severity.

“This migh’ just be the best soup I’ve ever tasted,” Soap pipes up, elbows tucked uncomfortably to avoid jostling Gaz, “I’da kept you a secret too, with cooking like this.”

“Johnny.” John’s voice is a hard warning, but he betrays himself with the slightest curve of a smile beneath his whiskers, a spark of pride in his eyes.

“There’s some soup left on the stove, if you boys are still hungry.” You smile. “And I’ve got brownies for dessert.”

The appreciative noise Soap makes borders on obscene. “Dinner and dessert? Do ya’ want another husband?”

The thud of John’s boot connecting with his Sergeant’s shin echoes through the room, and you try and fail to stifle a snort. Gaz quirks his eyebrow at you, humor dancing in his expression, and you let out a giggle before slapping your hand over your mouth self-consciously.

“Apologies.” Ghost pipes up dryly, inclining his head towards Soap. “We don’t have ‘im house trained yet.”

You let out another laugh. “It's alright, I'm still working on John.” The boys laugh, and your husband shoots you a look.

“You’re fostering insubordination, love.” He says gruffly, and you smile sweetly at him, grabbing his hand under the table and giving it a tight squeeze.

The men eat fast, faster than you’d like them to, the meal ending too quickly. Ghost and Soap clear the table, cracking dad jokes that make you roll your eyes good-naturedly, and Gaz plants himself solidly in front of the sink, ignoring your protests.

“Let me do the dishes,” he says stubbornly, an immovable brick wall, ignoring your attempts to shove him out of the way. “My mum would have a fit if she knew somebody cooked for me and I didn’t do the washing up.”

“I’m not going to discourage his good manners; he rarely gets to put ‘em to use. Come and sit with me for a minute.”

John’s leaning against the kitchen door frame, his warm eyes crinkled with amusement at the scene in front of him. You whirl around with a grumpy look.

“John, order him to let me take care of it,” you command, pointing at Gaz, and your husband just laughs, reaching out to grab your hand.

He leads you away from the bustle of the kitchen to his study, shutting the door behind him. His normally pristine desk is strewn with papers and maps, and you try and fail not to look too much, wondering what’s in Mexico that could need such urgent attention. John sits in the wide leather chair behind the desk and pulls you into his lap, burying his nose into your neck, his facial hair tickling your skin. You both inhale deeply, folding into each other.

The silence is heavy. You’re too aware of the ticking clock, the inevitable goodbye. You’ve barely had him for a few hours, and then you’ll be alone again, in this house designed for the two of you, constantly listening for the familiar sound of footsteps, desperately waiting for the phone to ring.

“You know, love,” John murmurs, “If anything were to happen to me, the boys would make sure you're looked after. Kate too.” He pulls back to look at you, his expression earnest. “Made them swear to it.” Your stomach drops like a rock, the tears you’ve been fighting all night rising back to the surface. John's thoughts have been in the same place as yours, lingering on realities best left unacknowledged.

You choke around the lump in your throat. “I don’t need anyone looking after me. I just need you.” You wrap your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him. “Just come back home, John.” Your bottom lip wobbles, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes, and he sighs mournfully.

“None of that, love. You know I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“Just–” you cut yourself off to smother a sob. “Just promise me you’ll always come home.” You want to beg him to stay, beg him to never leave you again, but you know he has to go. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be the man you married. You’ll settle for an unsustainable guarantee, worthless words with no force behind them. Your wedding ring sits heavy on your finger, a noose around your neck.

The lie sours in the air between you.

John’s gaze is melancholy. His thumb gently brushes away the tears making their way down your cheek, and he leans in to press a tender kiss to your lips.

“I promise. Always.”

You walk the boys to the door, making sure they’ve got everything they need, slipping the last brownie to Soap when no one else is looking. You give your husband a tight hug, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek before turning towards his men.

“It was nice to meet you all.” Your face is blotchy from your earlier tears, eyes still rimmed with red, but you smile as sincerely as you can.

Gaz reaches his hand out. “It was a pleasure. Thanks for dinner, it was delicious.”

You ignore the offered palm and pull him in for a hug, hoping it’s not overly familiar. The way Gaz relaxes into your arms tells you he needs it, and you give him an extra squeeze before pulling back. “You’re all welcome anytime you want a home cooked meal.”

When you turn to Soap, he sweeps you into his arms eagerly, crushing you tight enough against him to draw a strangled squeak from your lungs. “You’re a dead brilliant cook,” he says, voice oozing sincerity, “Price’ll have ta beat me out the door with a broom.”

“Johnny.” Your husband’s warning tone is enough for Soap to release you, grinning cheekily. You shoot John a reassuring look before turning towards your last guest.

Ghost eyes you warily, his posture unnaturally stiff. You open your arms slightly, tilting your head, a silent offering. There’s a beat, and then Ghost steps into the hug with the faux indifference of a moody teenager, throwing one arm carelessly over your shoulder. You have to stifle your urge to laugh. “Be safe,” you say softly, and there’s a shock of warmth in his icy stare even as he grunts noncommittally.

You’re plunged into empty silence when the men file out of the house. You watch them get into their cars, a bitter taste in your mouth. John turns to look back at you, saying something you can’t hear to his men before running back, slamming the front door behind him firmly. Your heart leaps.

“Forgot something,” he says, and grabs you, pulling you in for a searing kiss. You melt together, lips parting against his, arms automatically reaching up around his neck. He pulls back, and you tighten your grip around him.

“I love you,” it’s a desperate plea, an impossible ask.

“I love you, too.” John says, and his eyes slide to the door, strong fingers untangling himself from your hold.

When he leaves, he takes the warmth with him.

[fonteyn]

something wrong with me and you

Pairing: Marquis Vincent de Gramont x afab!reader. No use of Y/N

Word Count:  1.6K

Warnings: smut. slightly dub/con, including spanking, teasing, making the other beg, etc. Minors do not interact. +18 rating.

Author's note: who knew me going to the movie theater to watch john wick 4 was going to bring my fic writing era back from the dead lmao, maybe I'll finish other fics I abandoned along the way

I do not consent to any of my work being reposted on other websites.

At first, it was a night like any other.

Until he showed up, deciding that on this evening you were worthy of his time.

His lips reached closer to the shell of your ear while you struggled to hold in a sigh. He’d been at it for hours, tentatively running his nose on your neck, poking for a show of weakness on your part.

And you knew you were at the precipice of failure. The relentlessness of his continuous challenges made an inevitable dent in your resolve to deprive him of his wishes.

"I can give you everything, mon amour”, his full body pressed you down onto the mattress, fingers gripping your inner thighs, “everything you could ever want and more."

At this point, this had become a bit of a habit of his. Speaking these infamous words every single time you were with him. To the point of annoyance.

Be it in the low lights during a theater performance, in the middle of a crowded restaurant, or - as you were now - in his bed, draped in nothing but luxurious jewelry and the expensive silk of his sheets. It seemed he had become fixated on tantalizing you with unreachable realities.

"Isn't that what you want, darling?", he teased with a playful smile, just before nibbling your shoulder, teeth sinking into your skin followed by the soothing of his tongue.  

His pleasure in the act of mocking you was palpable, even more so when you were at a point of nearly squirming underneath him, "It is no shame to admit it", he continued, "don't you want to be all mine?".

You could no longer hold it in anymore, fighting power running out.

A shaky nearly broken moan left your lips along with a tremble through your body, and you threw your head back as his left hand found your waist. The right one lowering down smoothly - from your waist to your thigh, teasing the idea of doing something about the mess he created - before moving on, with a caress, all the way to your calf.

His hand settled, wrapped around your ankle, as he moved away from you, getting up from the four-post bed.

You were about to voice disappointment when you felt a tug on your ankles.

A surprise noise was once again dragged out of you as Vincent yanked you closer to the end of the bed, where he stood.

His once perfectly pressed shirt hung open. The slicked hair was now messy as a result of the good work from your fingers, both in the back of the limousine and on the elevator that took you both to the upper levels of his home.

Still pliant from all the effort he had put into making you putty in his hands, you lifted yourself up on your forearms, noting the harness of his length, which he had been rubbing against you ever since before you left the private dining room.

You were often fascinated by how the regality of his every move seemed impossible to rattle, even on the most heated nights.

A person could easily mistake the coldness of his stare to believe it meant indifference, after all, the Marquis de Gramont was a hard man to impress.

But you knew better.

You’d seen him beyond his title, his wealth, his ruthlessness.

And he had seen you.

His eyes almost twinkled from pent-up desire and as if he couldn’t help himself, he forcefully grabbed your chin, bringing your lips ever closer

Merely an inch separated you from the kiss that would soon follow.

Though before you could seal the deal, you became entranced by the sight of him licking his lips and the raspy whisper that followed.

"Say it to me. Say that you want to be my little marchioness. I can't give you what you want unless you say it."

You couldn't help but reach forward, your teeth sinking on his lower lip, making him hiss. Both of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place.

A smirk on your lips was inevitable, "Who's doing the begging now?"

That would just about do the trick on him, his body stiffening immediately and you braced for what would soon follow.

“Well, the night is not over is it?”

He admired your defiance in the face of his authority. How most times, even if you stood before him deprived of a single stitch of clothing, you were still able to look him in the eyes, as if you held all the cards. As if he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - ever harm you in any significant way.

Refusing to back down, teasing him to react first.

Admit it first.

To say just how much he wanted you.

How much he craved for you. How he woke up and thought of you. How much he wished he was inside you all day, every day.

And sometimes, even more dangerously, how he saw a particular painting and thought of you. Wondered if you would like it. Played out in his head how he was going to tell you all about it and then show it to you. The same had been happening a lot with clothes. Gowns he saw and only pictured how you’d look wearing them, and the way he would go about getting them off later.

The look you gave him during dinner while sipping on the most expensive wine from his private collection…It was enough to make him want to stop the world. Bend you over the table and fuck you until you pleaded with him to let you finish.

Tonight, however, he was tired of your games. Vincent was no longer interested in making you squirm, he wanted to make you scream.

If you refused to admit your obvious desire when he was being so nice, he was going to make you beg out loud.

He flipped you around, sturdy hands on either side of you forcing you to go on all fours for him. Aware that you hated not seeing his face while he took you.

For a moment, he basked in that power.

Of how despite all your fight, your snark, your feigned indifference when he spent weeks without seeing you and suddenly turned up at your door, you were still pliable to his will.

One of his large hands maneuvered to make sure you couldn’t switch positions, holding your neck in place. The cold metal of his ring tingling against your skin. Demanding that you stare forward, towards the headboard, stealing from you even the mere possibility of catching a glimpse at what he was about to do.

A slap came down hard on your ass, earning him a choked gasp. His hand soothed the now pained spot for a second before another slap soon followed. And then continued his motions, one after another until you lost track of how many spanks you had gotten. Being only mildly aware of the prickling of your skin, and more consumed by the wetness dripping from your core.

A whine ripped through you as he finally placed his thumb on your pussy, caressing you thoroughly.

“Fuck…”, you muttered a satisfied near-sob.

“Mmmm…not yet, mon amour”, Vincent teased, “unless you’re ready to beg for it.”

He splayed his hand on your lower back, moving you closer to his cock, and you held your breath as you felt him gripping his length behind you.

“Are you ready, darling? Are you ready to beg for me?”

“Yes!”, you mewled, nearly adding a “please” after.

You knew he was shaking his head at you, “It is truly a pity you have not spoken the correct words.”

You hissed as he grazed the head of his cock on your entrance, teasing but not making any moves towards pushing inside.

Vincent smiled, if you wanted him you’d have to say it, and he knew you were close to breaking.

“F-uck, fuck, okay”, you relented, backing yourself up further against him, “please…please…fuck me, I can’t…I-I want you, I need you so fucking bad.”

He wanted to resist you, as you had resisted him. He wished he could.

Vincent liked to think of himself as a man with enough resolve to spare, but that was always a challenge when it came to you.

When he said he would give you whatever you wanted, you thought it was a tease, a joke, a lie. You were wrong.

Not another sigh from you was needed to make him plunge his cock inside you and set a fiery pace, embracing your warmth as he moved one hand toward your nipples, pinching them so hard you started screaming.

Time lost all meaning, and sounds felt far away as he pounded inside you, setting a relentless pace.

Neither of you spoke, but both panted in pleasure.

One of your hands reached out towards his own, the one that is holding your neck, intertwining your fingers in a way that allows you to finally move your head back towards him.

Searching for his lips.

Unable to deny you any longer - and consumed by his own desire - he complied. Draping himself closer and closer, as if he wanted to consume you fully. Covering your body with his own, devouring your mouth with vigor, until neither of you can hold on.

You’ve deprived each other for too long.

He waits for you to finish, a wave of ecstasy ripping through you, as he fucks you even harder, chasing his own release with a shout.

He soon lays down on top of you, and in your lightheadedness, your fingers intertwine with each other.

Holding on for as long as you can.

Unaware of the great lengths the Marquis will go to make you, his.

[mentally-a-slut]

Three Days (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader) (SMUT)

Anddddd here we are! Part two of 'Staring Problem'! This can be read as a stand alone, but if you want a suggestive lead up, then go read part one! I tried my best with this one, but I haven't written explicit smut like this in a long time, so go easy on me! Writing this also reminded me that I loathe writing in second person, so from here on out I think I'll either do first or third. I won't bore you with details here, but I'll put up a separate post updating y'all on some stuff. Anyway, enjoy, and please leave feedback! Silent readers are appreciated but leaving comments helps me get motivated to continue! Even just a one word comment or an emoji helps! - Azi >:)

Summary: Arthur's been gone on a job for three days, which isn't a new development. However, a new development in your relationship just before he left leave you wanting. But fear not, as your troubles will be soon solved!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, smut, oral (f receiving), overall filth, reader is female, unedited (sorry), probably OOC Arthur but we're here for dick not character analysis!

You had always hated when Arthur went away on jobs, but ever since he left you hanging, your distaste for his long absences had grown.

You hadn't seen the man in three days, only getting a parting kiss and a heavy, heated promise as a farewell. The first day he was gone, you were mostly in awe of what had happened, wistfully going about your day and daydreaming of things to come.

The second day left you a little frustrated, the ache for him only growing with his absence. The other girls had noticed too, only making you more irritable as they teased you relentlessly for your obvious attitude change.

The third day was when you started to get worried. He'd been gone on longer jobs than this before, but you still couldn't help the nervous bouncing of your leg as you sat across from Tilly, trying to busy yourself with patching up some clothes.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's been gone much longer than this before."

Your lips contorted into a line, eyebrows knitted as you shook off the pain of the needle piercing the soft pad of your thumb. "I know. Just miss him, I guess."

Tilly just smiled and let you work in silence alongside her.

Arthur had gone to rob some stagecoach close to Emerald Ranch, along with Javier and Micah. You trusted Javier to help bring him back safely, but the addition of Micah made you nervous. He had a reputation of losing his cool and endangering the lives of everyone in a five mile radius.

Abigail had been very helpful the last couple of days. She understood every minor shift in your demeanor in the time he was gone. John was no stranger to long jobs, so Abigail knew exactly how it felt to sit idle while the men were out in danger.

John tried to be helpful, saying things about how Arthur had been bled half to death before and still made it back alive, but that only made things worse. You appreciated the effort, though.

It was getting close to evening now, the light of the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. You tried not to feel disappointed, knowing that if they were on the way back, they would likely stop and make camp for another night before arriving. Riding at night was never good unless they were on the way to a job. Riding back during the day was safer, and helped them keep an eye out for any witnesses or general hinderances along the way.

Just as you were about to resign yourself to your lonely bedroll for the night, the sound of rumbling hooves shook the ground under your feet.

You whipped your head around to see three healthy horses slowing to a walk near the hitch posts, each one carrying an upright, unharmed figure. You silently cursed the fact that Micah had made it back alive, but figured it was too much to hope that you'd get Arthur back and get rid of Micah in one day.

You didn't care what it looked like to the others, throwing all cares out as you rushed over to greet the man that had been haunting your thoughts for the last three days. He was just finishing up tying his big black shire to the post, taking the weight off his horse for the night, when you tackled him into a hug.

He stumbled slightly, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist as he snaked an arm around yours to steady himself. His breath tickled the top of your head as he chuckled. "Miss me?"

You scoffed and pulled your head from his chest, still gripping the sides of his jacket as you looked up at him. "You were gone three days!"

He smiled down at you and pulled you back against him, settling his other hand to cradle your head against his chest. "I missed you too, sweetheart."

All of a sudden, he withdrew, his eyes landing on the man a few feet away that was tending to his horse. "Javier!"

He turned. "Yeah, Arthur?"

"Tell Dutch me and my lady are goin' on a little vacation for a while, will ya?"

Javier nodded with a smirk, and you shrieked as Arthur lifted you onto his horse without warning. He followed shortly after, kicking his horse into a fast walk as a few wolf whistles resounded from camp.

You held onto his waist tightly as he sped up. "Where are we goin'?"

"Just into town."

"What are we gonna do there so late at night?"

You felt more than heard his responding chuckle. "Get a room."

"Oh. Oh."

The excitement that tingled through your body was electric, buzzing the whole ride there.

~~~~~~

You would have flustered at the knowing look on the hotel receptionist's face if you had been at all aware of anything but Arthur.

Arthur thanked the man before leading you up the stairs to the room, his large hand gripping yours the whole way there. You expected him to jump straight into action the second the door closed behind you, but instead his strong arms pulled you into a hug.

His arms encircled you and pressed you against him as he nestled his face into your neck. The vibration of his words against your neck sent sparks through your body straight to your core. "Thought about you the whole time."

You sighed into him, holding onto his as if he would disintegrate upon letting go. He only pulled back to gently tilt your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips.

The kiss was so soft, so filled with emotion, his fingers brushing lovingly across your cheek as your lips molded together. You were the one to lean into it, chapped lips parting and teeth nipping lightly at him.

The responding noise from him fueled your desire more, the desperate groan making your whole body ache for his touch. His hands moved from your waist to your hips, fingers bunching up in the fabric of your shirt as he fought your tongue with his.

When his rough fingers brushed against the bare skin of your waist, you whined into the kiss, arching into him. He chuckled against your lips, brushing his hands even further up your shirt and coming to a stop just under your tits.

You broke the kiss just for a moment to lift your shirt over your head, discarding it wildly behind you. You yelped as he lifted you and spun you around, walking you backwards towards the bed. You tugged him down on top of you, slipping a hand under his shirt to feel to ripples of muscle on his chest and stomach.

"Arthur," you whined, tugging at his shirt. He got the hint, discarding his shirt before meeting your lips again. His kiss was rougher this time, wet and messy as he took in the feeling of your body against his. You brought your legs up to circle around his waist, and you whimpered when he pressed his hips forward against yours, his hardened cock straining against his pants.

You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging lightly. He squeezed your hips in response, kissing down your neck and nipping at the skin on your chest.

His hands snaked around your back, undoing your bra without even pausing. He broke the kiss only when he pulled the straps down, revealing your chest to the open air. Your first instinct was to cover yourself, but he didn't even give you the chance.

You didn't have the brain capacity to be embarrassed at the sound that came out of you when he took a nipple into his mouth, gripping the other with his large hand. He groaned against you, his erection brushing against you. He was growing harder by the second, the mere sight of you arousing him intensely.

His unoccupied hand stroked down your stomach, slipping two fingers in the waistband of your pants. You nodded and begged desperately, writhing against him. "Please! Please, Arthur..."

He moved his lips to your other nipple, quickly unbuttoning your pants and ridding you of both them and your panties in one movement. His lips separated from your chest as he moved up to you, staring into your eyes with intense lust. "I'm gonna get you ready, baby, that okay?"

Your heart swelled with emotion, only intensifying your desire. Even when he was desperate with lust, he looks at you with such caring, always making sure your okay. "Yes, yes, please!"

He smiled at you before kissing you sweetly, slowly kissing down your body. You whined as his hot breath brushed your core, your head tilting up to look at him between your legs.

His eyes glittered with amusement as they met yours, a teasing finger brushing your inner thigh. It was so close to where you needed it, but so far. "You're a tease."

He chuckled, "Can't help it when you look so pretty beggin' for me."

You threw your head back and groaned, half in frustration and half in arousal. Your noise quickly shifted to a whine when he suddenly slid a finger across you folds, head fuzzy with pleasure. "So wet already. All for me, sweetheart?"

You groaned and nodded, hips shifting towards him in an attempt to get him to do it again. "Ah, use your words."

Your words were half whimpered. "Yes! All for you, only for you, please!"

"Good girl."

He swiped his finger through your folds again, this time teasing his fingertip around your aching entrance. You bucked against him when his thumb brushed against your clit, breathing coming out in short, whiny sighs. "Please."

"Whatever you say, baby."

You moaned as a finger slid into you, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Before you could complain at the lose of stimulation when he removed his thumb, his lips connected and sucked harshly. Your moans were surely loud enough to be heard, but the pleasure that wracked your body was so overwhelming you couldn't bring yourself to care.

His finger slowly moved in and out, brushing against your sensitive walls as his tongue assaulted your clit. You tangled a hand in his hair, tugging harder than you intended. He groaned against you, making a jolt of pleasure shoot through you.

The stretch of another finger was added, making you cry out. It wasn't enough to be painful, just enough to make you stretch around him so deliciously. He pulled his lips off of you and looked down at you, eyes hungrily watching as your cunt swallowed up his fingers. You looked down at him, lips parted with pleasure as he worked his fingers inside you. "More."

He glanced up at you with a smirk, slipping in a third finger. It sent a small jolt of discomfort through you, but it was quickly overwhelmed with pleasure as the third finger pressed against the most sensitive parts of your walls. "Oh, fuck, Arthur!"

"Feel good, huh?"

"Yes! Please, please, I'm gonna cum!"

He sped up, his fingers pumping in and out of your relentlessly. He leaned back in to swirl his tongue against your clit, which made you walls start spasming around him. Your thighs tensed, threatening to close around him, but he pulled back and held your legs open.

"Go on, baby, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum."

You couldn't form any words as his fingertips curled inside you and prodded against you in a way that made you see stars. His encouraging words only pushed you closer and closer.

"Good girl, doin' so good for me." You moaned and clenched around his fingers, muscles spasming as the dam broke. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you came, short, whiny moans escaping your lips as he fingered you through it.

With a gentle kiss against your clit that made you twitch, he pulled his fingers out of you and rose to look at you. You forced your eyes open, smiling breathlessly up at him. "You okay?"

You couldn't help but laugh, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. "More than okay. That was amazing."

He smiled and kissed you again, slow and loving. You knew you could tell him you were done for the night and he would agree in a heartbeat, not even caring about his own unresolved desires. But his sweet kiss only fueled another spark, already tingling through your body. His moaned against your lips as you arched against him, legs moving to wrap around his waist and pull him against you.

He pulled away with a raised eyebrow. "You're a needy one, aren't you?"

"Only for you."

You pulled him back down, kissing him roughly and pressing your hands all over his bare skin. His hips bucked forward when you tugged at his waistband, his desperation shining through even when he tried to stifle it.

You pushed him back, catching him off guard and shoving him onto the bed. He chuckled and shifted further back, letting you swing your leg across his hips and straddle him. You leaned down to kiss down his neck, smiling at the soft murmurs of content as you nipped at his collarbone.

You reached between the two of you, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down. He helped you and kicked them the rest of the way off, leaving him in only his boxers. You stared down at the bulge that strained against the white fabric, a wet spot of pre cum soaking a part of it. You looked down at him with a proud smile. "I do that to you?"

His hands slid up your thighs and caressed you hips. "You do so much to me. More than you could ever imagine."

You leaned down to kiss him, pouring all your emotions of admiration and lust into it. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing as he groaned against your lips. Your hips pressed down against his. sending a shock of pleasure through you as your clit brushed against his clothed bulge.

He would have been content to kiss you like that forever, but you were growing more and more desperate with each touch. You slid your fingers into his boxers without breaking the kiss, gently stroking his cock. His reaction spurred you on, and you pushed his boxer down to release him.

You marveled at his size as he helped you discard his underwear, leaving him fully bare underneath you. He was thick, and longer than anyone else you'd ever had. Your hand continued to slowly stroke up and down his shaft, thumb smearing the beads of precum around him. You were transfixed on him, lost in the feeling of his soft skin against your palm.

"Fuck, baby, as pretty as you look doin' that, I don't wanna cum just yet."

You slowed your movements to a stop and looked up at him with a soft smile. The admiration you felt for the man beneath you was overwhelming, and you didn't know if you could ever truly explain to him how much he meant to you.

You slowly moved to kiss him again, soft and sweet. You let your hips relax against his, smirking as his hips shifted under you to gain friction. You moved your hips against his shaft, your cunt dragging against him. You continued grinding on him, breathing growing heavier as the tip of his cock teased at your entrance with each movement.

After a few more seconds of torturing him, you lifted your hips and gripped his cock, prodding him against you entrance. Before you moved, you pulled away from his kiss, sitting up and placing a hand on his chest for balance. He groaned as he looked up at you, poised above his cock, cunt dripping with anticipation.

Emotion shone in his eyes, gaze still so loving even when clouded with lust. With a sigh, you lowered yourself slightly, taking his tip inside. You knew it was going to be a stretch, so you had to restrain yourself and take it slow.

He groaned at the sight of your cunt swallowing him, even just the tip of him. You held his gaze as you lowered another two inches, fingers gripping his chest at the slight stretch. Soon, his hands gripped your hips tightly as he helped you sink down all the way, clit brushing against him as you were finally fully seated against his pelvis.

Your eyes were dark with lust, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted. His eyes flickered over you, rapidly moving between your joined bodies, your heaving chest, and your face. "So perfect. Take me so well."

His words spurred you to move, lifting your hips slightly and moaning sweetly as you sank back down. The pain of the stretch had completely disappeared, replaced with a blinding pleasure. You rolled your hips a few more times before rising further, speeding up.

His hands held your hips tightly, his thighs tensing as he tried to hold himself back. "Fuck, sweetheart, look at you. Swallowing me up like that."

His words only increased your desire, your hips rising and falling faster, legs lifting you further off his cock. His moaned as he stuttered out praises, hands tightening on your hips as you rose fully off him and slammed back down again. Your pace increased, his length filling you up perfectly and brushing against the sensitive spots within you.

You struggled to hold yourself as you got closer and closer, pace faltering. You whined, every breath coming out as a soft moan. "You're doin' so good baby, want me to take over?"

You managed a messy nod, and his hips immediately rose up to meet yours, hands moving your hips up and down on him. You threw your head back as your cunt spasmed, orgasm coming down hard and fast. "I'm- fuck! Gonna cum!"

"Go 'head baby, I've got you."

With his words, you moaned with your release, his cock still pounding into you as you rode it out. Your senses were fuzzy, everything covered in a blanket of pleasure. You didn't even realize he had flipped you over, your head against the soft pillow. As your vision cleared, you looked up at him, blissful smile on your face.

"You did so good, honey, think you can gimme another?"

You nodded blearily, spreading your legs further as he continued thrusting into at a ruthless pace. You were building up to another one fast, barely even recovered from your previous one. His hand rested against your throat, grounding you but not squeezing. "So gorgeous, my pretty girl. Look so good stuffed full of my cock."

You moaned pathetically, hands going up to hold his face and grip his hair. "You feel so good, Arthur, I- I love how you make me feel."

He groaned in response, slamming into your cunt even faster. "So tight for me, gonna make me cum. Where d'ya want me?" He struggled to get the question out, his voice stammering through moans.

"Inside. Fill me up, Arthur."

His hand tightened around your throat for a moment at your words, and he moaned loudly. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me."

His movements grew sloppier, fingers pressing against your throat as he pressed his lips to yours in a messy kiss. With a few more thrusts, your own orgasm came to a head, only slightly preceding his.

His groaned against your lips and your walls clenched around him, his cum painting your insides as you milked him. He fucked you through it, kiss growing softer as he slowed to a stop. He stilled inside you, pulling back to look in your eyes.

You looked back at him, lips curled into a soft smile as he rested his forehead against yours. He pulled out carefully, planting a sweet kiss on your lips to distract you from any discomfort.

He shifted to lay next to you, turning his head to look at you. "You okay?"

You smiled and looked at him. "With you? Always."

[imshymorph]

Okay so, this has been in my WIPs for a while, and to be honest i don't thik its going to get any better. Also i was about to hit post and i accidentally closed my tumblr app and obviously it didn't save as a draft :) Anyway, it's about sex but it's not splicit. Still, i'll say it, NSFW MDNI

I missed you sex with soft!price under the cut.

Altough i’m not sure i would call it sex, even, it’s straight up love making.

It’s about the way you know you’ll be in missionary the whole time because he’s been away for 10 weeks —or maybe it was 12 or 13, whatever, way too many— and all he could think of during the whole time was to have you all safe and sound between his arms. Of course, the best way to make sure of that is to have you caged underneath his broad body, head tilted down to look at you, to see every bit of your pleasure.

Is constant eye contact, because at nighttime he’d look up at the moon, knowing that even if you were thousands of kilometres away, at night you were covered by the same glow. When he looks at the specks in your eyes, the different shades of color in them, he swears it’s more magical than any starry night he’s ever seen.

It's in that moment he realises he’d much rather be in your arms and looking into what he’s sure is the door to your soul, than seeing the wonders the milky way hides from the naked eye.

What i’m saying is that the important thing is to kiss each other, to prove that nothing has changed these last few months. Prove that you’re as much in love with the other as you were before the god forsaken deployment. That you care much more about the feel of his lips against yours than you do the burn that sets in your lungs for holding your breath for so long.

It's love making because what is supposed to be foreplay can drag for hours before either of you even think about moving onto a different thing. Hours in which you take turns worshipping the other, covering them in kisses and soft touches, in praises and compliments.

Moments in which you follow the lines of his scars, your lips trailing kisses from one to the other. You’ve already got all of them memorised, which means you instantly recognise a new one he must have gotten this time. It's between kisses and soft touches that he reassures you that it’s fine and healed now, love. When he shares with you the non-confidential version of what happened. All of it happening as you draw a map, every kiss a little step of his journey to this point, every kiss stopping to pay attention and homage to the marred parts of his skin as if they were landmarks of nature, before your lips continue in their little journey.

Until the tables turn, because you deserve as much —who is he trying to fool, you’re much more deserving that he could ever be of— worshipping. Instead of big and jaded bullet or stab wound scars, his lips trail the constellations that get drawn on your skin by your freckles and stretch marks.

His lips paying as much attention to that scar you got when you were 7 and fell with your bike, that’s faded but never really gone away, as you did the ones that he got when a building collapsed on him after a grenade went off. He'll ask, even if he knows every story by heart, having memorised when you’ll giggle and when you’ll pause, when you’ll tell it fondly and when it will be in embarrassment; he’ll still ask about every single little mark on your skin. Because they show who you are and what you’ve lived, and he craves to know every page in the book of your life.

Luckily he has the privilege of having being writing it alongside you for years now. Because he wants to fill in the blanks on the parts you’ve had write separately due to the distance. More importantly, because he has the privilege to write along with you for years to come.

A kind of reunion where neither of you care if you finish, because what matters is the physical closeness. What’s important is feeling that the other is there, safe and sound. Hell, half of the time, when john gets back from a deployment like this, he ends up going soft still inside you. Meanwhile the both of you are too busy kissing and whispering love confessions to each other. Who cares when now that he’s here you’ll have more than enough time to reach orgasms.

I’m talking about his left hand constantly on yours, fingers interwoven because he needs the cold of your wedding band against his flushed skin as much as you need his against yours. Because he needs to be grounded and to be sure that you’re there and you’re not just a dream he’s having. Because you both need to know your spouse is really there and will still be, that the love of your life is safely home with you and that when you wake up in the morning, they’ll still be in your arms.

I’m talking about John Price finally knowing He's made it to you. Knowing he’s made it home.

[brotherwtf]

i’ve tried to forget about you, but it’s impossible.

oh no more angst!! (I asked for this) more post war stuff bcs it makes me so sad and tender 🥹

---

Gale had appeared on John's doorstep a little over a week ago, and there is obvious tension between them every time they speak to each other. No more was the easy banter and quick jokes, it was all strained smiles and politeness, something that John was not used to.

John, of course, had allowed Gale to stay in his home. He could never turn Gale away, not after everything they went through. It would be like kicking a wounded dog while it was down to turn Gale away at the door.

But the silence was almost worse than the constant noise of war. They woke at separate times, barely talked and would leave the house for hours at a time. John would spend his nights weeping in his room, craving the normalcy that had seemed to die in the war.

John awoke to a crash in the guest room and immediately jolted to his feet. He doesn't even think before he bolts into the room, spying Gale in the ground with his knees brought to his stomach. He rocks back and forth and shakes, muttering things to himself in that deep, husky voice that would usually drive John wild.

John is instantly at Gale's side, crouching in front of him and grabbing his hands.

"Buck, hey Buck, come on, come back, you're okay," John tries to soothe, but curses under his breath when Gale only digs his fingers further into his arm.

He wasn't cut out for this, there were others who were far better at soothing than John could ever be, but he was the only person here right now. He sits next to Gale and wraps an arm around him, trying to tuck Gale into the crook of his body. Gale still holds himself tight, but relaxes the slightest bit in John's arms.

"That's it, Buck, come back to me," John says, and tries not to think of how intimate the words are.

Gale's breaths slow down and he turns his face into John's shirt, gently gripping the material and making a pained sound. John rubs his thumb against Gale's shoulder.

"I thought I lost you," Gale mutters and Johns ears instantly perk up.

"Lost me? I'm right here, Buck," John says.

Gale shakes his head and curses under his breath.

"In my nightmares. You always end up in a ball of flames and I can't do anything, I'm just forced to watch, watch as you go down..." Gale mutters and his breath picks up again.

John shushes him, bringing a hand to Gale's hair and tucking him into the crook of his neck.

"I thought it would get better when I was back with Marge. But she didn't know, she didn't get it. She tried to help but she just couldn't," Gale says.

He sighs heavily before continuing.

"I tried to forget about you, forget about all of it. But it's impossible. I can't forget any of it. Much less you," Gale whispers.

John clenches his jaw and brings Gale's face into view. In the moonlight, his eyes shine brighter than ever.

"I'll help you then. We'll help each other. You and me, Gale, we're gonna get through this," John whispers.

There's a look on Gale's eyes that John can't quite place, but he ignores it and leans down to connect their lips. It's something sweet and chaste, and John has to hold back a sob. It's everything he's ever wanted.

John pulls away and tucks his face into Gale's hair. Gale still holds onto John like a lifeline, but reaches his head up to connect their cheeks together. It's damp from Gale's silent tears and John leans into it. Gale pulls away for a moment before kissing John again, resting their foreheads together after a brief moment.

"Hold me, John," Gale whispers.

John wraps his arms around Gale's shoulders and brings him closer into his body.

"Of course, Gale. I ain't going anywhere,"

this is definitely up there with one of the ones I almost bawled while writing. thank you so much for the ask anon!

[hypewinter]

I'm in a silly goofy mood so screw it, let's make younger brother Danny ideas for all the batbros. Heck! I might even do some of the other batfam members. We'll see. I'll make them all separate posts with one lighthearted and one angsty scenario similar to the Damian post.

Anyway with the set up out of the way let's take care of Dick first!

Jason Tim Damian Cass

Lighthearted

Around the time Danny is born, Haly's Circus is experiencing hard times. Because of this, Mary and John give him up for adoption in hopes of him experiencing a better life. Danny grows up to be super athletic and flexible. He also looks like the carbon copy of Dick. When Danny's class takes a field trip to Gotham, a batfam member spots him and believes he's a clone. Cue the batfam scrambling to figure out this clone's origin and purpose. Danny for his part, is absolutely confused why the Wayne's have such an interest in him until Tucker points out he fits the Wayne adoption bill. This results in him panicking and when Dick approaches him the next day he yells 'I've already been adopted once so no thanks!' and runs away. This peaks Dick's curiosity so he does something none of the other family members considered to do. He does his research. After a while of digging he finds out Danny was adopted in xyz place around xyz date that matches with the time his parents put his little brother up for adoption. Could it be?

Angsty

Danny is reborn as the youngest son of the flying graysons. The night their parents died Danny was in one of the trailers and not watching the performance. Therefore when everything went down, while Dick was being comforted by Bruce, the talons were able to kidnap him without anyone knowing. He is trained as the most prized talon of the court of owls. Eventually Batman proves to be a pain in the court's side so Danny is sent to take care of him. Batman doesn't want to admit it but he's having a lot of trouble with this particular assassin so he calls in Nightwing to help. Together, they manage to knock off the talon's mask. Dick sees his precious little brother's face that was once so full of life now devoid of all emotion and that makes him hesitate. This gives Danny enough time to make a tactical retreat. When Bruce finds out why Dick hesitated, he tries to bench him. The former Robin is having none of that though. He's getting his brother back.

[raina-at]

Intuition

The journey through my AUs continues, today it's my kind of Unilock boys from Guess Who's Coming for Christmas Dinner, but this stands very well on its own as well.

----

“Stop fidgeting.”

“I can’t help it. I look ridiculous.”

“You do not,” Sherlock says, indignant, reaching over to adjust John’s tie. “The suit is perfect. Now stop fidgeting and keep your eyes open. One of these people is a cat burglar and a jewel thief.”

“Yeah, and the rest are bankers and brokers,” John mutters, adjusting his cufflinks. “Find the thief in a roomful of thieves. Like looking for a needle in a pile of needles.”

“Careful, your class prejudices are showing. Now look around and try to look like you regularly spend a thousand pounds on a bottle of wine.”

John snorts and takes two flutes of champagne from a tray, handing one to Sherlock. He takes a sip and hums appreciatively. “At least the booze is good.”

They make their rounds, chatting with several people, and for the first time, John is glad for the hours and hours he spent trying to make nice with Sherlock’s posh family, because he now knows how to use summer as a verb, and he’s learned to pronounce chalet correctly. 

“What about this chap?” John points at an elegant older man across the room. “He gives me the creeps.”

“What are you basing this deduction on?” Sherlock asks, taking an unobtrusive look at the man John pointed out.

“Dunno. Something about him. Intuition.”

Sherlock huffs an exasperated sigh. “John, there is no such thing as intuition.”

“‘Course there is.”

“No. What you call intuition is your brain making deductions and drawing inferences from a hundred subconscious clues and disseminating the data to you as uneasiness, because you haven’t trained your brain to observe consciously. You need to learn how to separate the context clues and observe them, systematically and consciously.” Sherlock gestures at the man John indicated. “Look at your fellow here. His shoes are bespoke Italian loafers, incredibly expensive, this make and model are only made in Florence, which just happens to be the site of one of our thefts. His watch is British Army issue, meaning he has military training, further fitting our profile. He’s wearing glasses he clearly doesn’t usually wear, given there are no imprints on his nose, and he recently dyed his hair. He fidgets with his tie like you, meaning he’s unused to wearing one, and what banker isn’t used to wearing a tie?”

“So, what you’re saying,” John says, with an amused smile, “is that I’m right?”

Sherlock rolls his eyes. “Yes, John, you are right. But for the wrong reasons.”

“You’re so lucky I love you, you incurable smartarse,” John mutters, depositing his empty champagne glass on a nearby tray.

“If I’m not entirely mistaken,” Sherlock murmurs as he leans closer to speak in John’s ear, “you especially love my smart arse.”

John grins. “Not entirely accurate. I love your smart brain, and I love your spectacular arse.” John leans closer and kisses Sherlock once on the lips, then murmurs, “How about we get out thief and go home, and then I can show you just how much I love your smart arse?”

“You’re right, you know,” Sherlock says, drawing back a little to give John an affectionate smile. “I am lucky.”

John pecks him on the cheek, smiling softly. “So am I. Now let’s get our jewel thief, and go home.” He makes a gesture for Sherlock to precede him and then follows, making no secret out of his appreciation for Sherlock’s truly fine arse.

Lucky indeed, he thinks, as they walk once more into battle.

-----

I think I'm done with my AU journey, I think I hit them all at least once. I'll double-check, and if you can think of one I haven't done, please drop me a line, but I think I've done them all.

Um.... Bingo?

Tags under the cut as usual, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. Also, periodic reminder that I'm posting these on AO3 here.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

[impulsivebrainrot]

💀⚠️❗SPOILER ART for FORBIDDEN FRIENDSHIP❗⚠️⭐

-CHAPTER 16: Race to the Edge of the Railroad-

Part 1

Cue (1:10) of "This is Berk" by John Powell or sumthn XD /jk

I draw the creatures in black and white coz idk what the full palette would be yet HKJADSHF But if you're curious on how King and TC would look like, here it is XD...

It's a WIP for now ;w;

I'll make a separate post for the other artwork later on, since it's a pretty major thing, and people might see it first by accident :'3

[codfanficedits]

Love language.

Pairing: John Price x fem!Reader

Summary: John and you have different love languages.

Wordcount: 4360 | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: miscommunication, communication, fluff, smut, p in v

A/N:I didn't proofread and English isn't my native tongue, so please let me know if there are mistakes. Uni is going to kick my ass the upcoming week, so I'll be posting less.

It had gotten too much, the way you always had to touch him, but he would never return the favour. You had tried to talk to him about it, and he would always promise to be better. And now you were fed up with it, so you started treating him like he treated you. Not a single touch during the day, not a kiss, a soft squeeze, a caressing finger. You kept your hands to yourself. So you placed his coffee on his desk, a smile on your face. “Just how you like it.” Your eyes shift between him and the coffee. Your hair following your movement as you straighten your back again.

John can feel a knot forming in his throat, tightening the longer you stare at him. Was it really that bad? Did you really hate him that much? He looks down at the cup of coffee, as if it will give him courage, or tell him what to do. The black liquid inside swirls with bitterness. What had he done to anger you? Did he deserve this? But John clears his throat, trying to sound unaffected. “Thank you.”

It hurts you that he doesn’t notice, or that least doesn’t show that he notices.

“I have to train the soldiers.” You say. “fitness training, to keep them fit. So I’ll be back late. You’ll have to eat alone tonight.”

This would’ve been the moment where you would pepper him with some kisses, usually his cheeks, nose, sometimes his lips or forehead. But now you skipped. So you looked at your captain. “See you tonight. I love you.”

John’s heart clenches in response to your words, the guilt churning his stomach in knots. Your voice is sweet music in his ears though, soothing the bitter brew brewing in his chest. “See you tonight.” He replies, his eyes following you as you leave. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that you voice, your face, your presence are soothing him, making everything… better, but how else can he deny it? You’ve always been there for him.

And you, you can feel the pieces of your heart starting to crumble when he doesn’t tell you that he loves you. It makes you feel as is if you’re the only one trying to keep this relationship alive. You turn around on your heels, walking away towards the training ground. And while you’re still officially a soldier, most of your time is spend giving endurance training, or fitness training. John’s way of keeping you out of the field, trying to keep you as safe as possible. But it had become your playground. You had learned to stand your ground, you had learned how to get the soldiers, your soldiers, to give their best. Your voice is loud and clear as you carry out your orders. Something you would’ve never done if it wasn’t for your job in the army.

John watches you with proud eyes from the window in his office, the sight of you on that training ground, near the obstacle course, it triggers an old memory.

It was almost ten years ago, his team had gotten their first assignment from the special forces. An exercise that involved an obstacle course. He had always been a big kid at heart, so the task excited him. Little did he know, what a fool he had been. His thoughts are interrupted as he realizes you have spotted him. He gives a small wave before going back to observing your training. But you don’t respond to his wave, your gaze goes back to your soldiers, and while your orders are loud, they are never harsh. You keep your private matters separated from your work, your soldiers shouldn’t have to suffer because your relationship is on loose screws.

Your eyes wander around the obstacle course and your heart flutters. It had been where you and John had met, both on the same training given years ago. He had helped you climb over that two metre tall wall, and you had helped him crawl under barbed wire. And now, ten years later, he had made it to captain, and you crack a small smile at the memory.

Across the field, John has the same memory playing like a movie in his mind. That first glance, the spark, the rush of emotions. You had always been beautiful, strong, independent, confident, and of course completely oblivious to his affections. You’ve climbed, you’ve crawled and you’ve laughed, your bond forged in sweat, adrenaline and determination, and when the both of you finally made it to the finish line after countless tries, he kissed you.

Ten years ago, and it felt like only yesterday.

And you miss it, the young love you once had. Stealing small kisses in between training, sneaking into each other’s quarters, sneaking out of base to lie under the stars and moon until the sun came up. John had never been a touchy person, but you were. Holding his hand, squeezing his bicep, or shoulder. Soft kisses on his forehead, nose cheeks. And you always told yourself that you could live with it, that you would be okay with it if it always came from you, but you can’t, not anymore.

Your thoughts get interrupted by a struggling soldier, a poor man who got stuck in to barbed wire he was supposed to crawl under. His panic was making it worse. Shit, shit, shit. You’re working on an automatic pilot. Crawling under the barbed wire yourself, using your back to lift it up. You’ll deal with your own injuries later as you can feel the wire cutting your back, the adrenaline makes you unable to feel the pain. You’re able to drag the soldier from under the barbed wire, and while his face and back are cut, you’re sure he will be fine. You send him off to the infirmary, just to get things checked out. The rest of the training is cut short. You’re in no mood to train them any further, and the soldiers aren’t in the bests of moods too.

John watches you as you tend to the wounded soldier. You always had such a maternal instinct about you, at least, that is what he feels. If only he had shown even a fraction of your love. He thinks back on your past encounters, seeing them afresh through the eyes of a man, an adult and a lover. The same feeling of longing rises like a slow tide in him. He wants nothing more than to pull you in, wrap you in his arms, kiss all the places his lips have touched before. He blinks. Why can’t he do it?

As you watch your recruits leave, you can feel the blood trickle down your back, and maybe, maybe it is a good idea to get yourself checked out too. You know John is still watching, and normally this would’ve been the moment where you would come up to him, hug him, before you drag him along to the infirmary. But not now, not anymore.

Deep down you know your love couldn’t be young forever, and as much as you miss your young long love, you adore the adult love. The grown up version. The sharing a bed together, being there when he goes to sleep and when he wakes up. You stopped initiating touch two days ago, and the two of you haven’t touched each other since, and it breaks your heart. He watches you leave, and he leans back in his chair, muttering a curse under his breath. He had known his days of complacency were numbered. For months, years, he had taken your love for granted, and he had grown lazy, expecting you to give, and give, and give.

It was about damn time to give something back. John rises from his chair and starts walking towards the same infirmary.

Those two days without touch have been lonely, and it made you realise how cold your relationship was if you weren’t the one initiating all the sweet stuff. And you understand, he is a captain, he has a certain image to uphold, but you can’t understand why he has to act the same behind closed doors. You’re safely tucked away in the corner of the infirmary, a curtain separating you from the rest of the patients, your shirt lifted as a nurse checks the cuts on your back. They’re shallow. Nothing what a band aid and some rest can’t fix. The nurse cleans the cuts for you, as you contemplate about your relationship.

John hesitates near the entrance of the infirmary. His instincts tell him to barge in and demand that the two of you talk and resolve the issue right then and there, but.. you look tired and not just physically. He decides to wait outside until you’re done. With a deep breath, John goes to sit in one of the chairs, trying to keep his anxious thoughts in check. Maybe the two of you can’t work this out, and it will be the end of it all. All over a stupid misunderstanding, all because he took you for granted.

As you open the door to the hallway you’re confused to see John sitting there. Compared to you he is a behemoth of a man and even when he is sitting down, there isn’t much height difference between the two of you. You used to love that, you’d stand between his legs when he sat on his desk chair, peppering him with kisses. But not now, not anymore. You keep your distance this time. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” He answers softly. “Can we.. talk?” John notices the distance you’ve put between the two of you and he swallows heavily. “Is everything alright?” He looks up at you, and you see a hopeful expression on his face, yet it is fearful. Perhaps it got all made worse here. Perhaps something has been broken that can’t be fixed.  But he won’t lose you. He won’t.

“We can talk.” You agree. “But not here.” You don’t need your relationship to become the talk of the base. You don’t need someone eavesdropping and blowing this thing up, no matter the outcome. His second question gets ignored, you’re in no mood to talk any more in this hallway. You signal him to follow you, and he towers next to you as you walk to your private quarters in silence. Normally you would’ve hold his hand, squeezing it every now and then. But now your hands are besides your body.

It stays silent, neither of you dares to say a word and the tension is thick. It stays thick as you enter your private quarters, closing the door behind you.

You go to sit down on your couch tucked away in the very corner, holding a pillow against your body, a makeshift barrier. You’re waiting for him to start, knowing that a single touch of him would be enough to make you melt.

John takes a deep breath, he can’t afford to lose you over his own stupidity, to his own stubbornness. Then he walks over, gently lifting your chin with a careful touch of his palm and he leans in for a kiss. He keeps it light, sweet and hopeful, a declaration of love and his wish to fix what was broken. As his lips touch yours, he closes his eyes, his heart fluttering with mixed emotions, a hope fading and a pain that threatens to end it all rising deep within him.

The pillow you have been holding gets tossed to the side. You’ve missed this, you had missed him. And by the Gods are you grateful that he finally initiated this kiss. Your eyes close too, as your kiss stays light and sweet. You’re the first one to pull back. “I love you.”

John smiles, unable to hide the sheer relief of having broken the ice. He looks back at you. “I love you too, always have, forever will.” He wants to pull you close again, to hold you in his arms, but he restrains himself, not wanting to push things too fast. “Why did you stop touching me, love?” His voice is no longer laced with the confident tone of a captain. He sounds like a scared boy, afraid of losing the first love of his life. This is it. The point where you two either make of break your relationship, and you both know it. “I..” You’re unable to meet his gaze as you struggle to find the words you have been looking for. Part of you wants to dismiss it all and force yourself to go back to how it has been, but another part of you tells you, you deserve better.

“I have been treating you the way you treat me.” You eventually muster to say. “Thank about it.” You continue. “Besides from just now, when is the last time you touched me?”

That stops John cold. His eyes are filled with understanding as his heart shatters in a million pieces before his very eyes. You were right. “I..” He’s at loss. How could he have been so blind? So self-aware and yet so unaware. So in love and so oblivious to it. John swallows hard, suddenly desperate to do the right thing once more. “That’s a problem, and I know it now. I want to fix it, I want to do my share, to show my desire and love. I want you to be happy, with me.”

Your hands rest in your lap, it’s a good feeling that you can finally get your point across, that he finally understands.

“And please know, John. I’m not asking you to become a whole different person. I knew exactly what type of man you were when we started dating. And I also understand that you’re a captain, my captain. I get that you can’t be all loveydovey when we’re working.”

You make sure to make eye contact while you continue. “But please, behind closed doors, all I’m asking is for you to touch me.”

John takes in her words with a quiet breath.

“I can do that.”

He moves forward to sit beside you, the proximity is enough to make his heart flutter. Your smell hits his nose and he takes a deep breath, smiling at the memory it brings back. He looks over at you, and reaches out to gently cup your cheek with a rough hand. “I love you, darling.” He leans in to whisper those words in your ear, your hair tickling his nose and it makes him smile again. “I can do that.”

You smile when he cups your cheek, being as gentle as he can be, and you can’t help but let out a giggle when your hair tickles his nose. “I love you too.” You respond. “A whole lot.”

His heart nearly bursts when you giggle. He leans in and kisses your forehead. “I love you the most.”

He holds your face and gazes into your eyes. “Can I kiss you again? Or has one been enough for today?” His tone is playful, he can’t help but tease you now that it feels like things are okay again. It is his way of showing love.

And there is just something about a large, stoic man being so playful with just you, that warms your heart.

“I swear to God, John.” You groan, but it is playful. “I’ll make you sleep on the couch if you don’t kiss me.”

He grins wide, his heart leaping at your playful threat. “Oh, is that right darling? Do it, I dare you.” John leans in, holding your gaze as his face approaches yours, his eyes locked onto your ones. His lips hovering just mere inches from your own. “Kiss me, or you’ll be the one sleeping on the couch.”

A grin tugs around your lips at his words. “We both know what happens when you make me sleep on the couch.” You tease him. “You’ll pick me up in the middle of the night to drag me back to bed because you miss me.”

Your lips brush against his for just a second. “Remember that one time where I was so mad at you that I slept on the couch? I woke up in the middle of the night when you tried to lay with me on the couch, but the couch ended up not being big enough.”

“Who me?” He asks, feigning ignorance. He is not letting you see how utterly adorable you are at his moment. He can’t stand it, he’ll melt at the spot. “Yes, I do remember that vividly.” He murmurs, before he grabs you by your waist, gentle of course, and tugs on you until you’re on his lap. “And what did I do then?” He asks, his eyes locking with yours.

“You know what you did.” You answer, as you make yourself comfortable on his lap. “You picked me up, laid me down on the couch and you let me sleep on your chest.” You take a little break to kiss his nose. “I was so mad that I wanted to get off, but you held me so tight I couldn’t escape.”

He holds you close to him, you fit perfectly on his lap like this. “And how did that make you feel?” He asks, while the hand that isn’t on your waist starts to rub your back. He wants nothing more than to show you how much he missed you, but it is too soon for that. “I was pissed at first.” You admit. “But eventually I fell asleep on your chest, and I was no longer mad when I woke up.” You let out a sigh. “I don’t think we’ve ever slept apart since. Except for when one of us is on a mission of course.”

He snickers at your comment. “Well, I’m glad you got over your little tantrum.” His voice is full of love, despite the playfulness. “And if you want to get technical. It was me who got the apology I was due. You know.. after you stormed off.” The hand that has been rubbing your back makes its way to your neck, softly caressing the skin. “I can’t really sleep without you either, to be honest.”

“My little tantrum?” You repeat, pretending to be offended. “Don’t get me started before I get all riled up again and I’ll sleep on the couch again.” It was nice how he touched you, but most importantly, it was nice how natural it felt. No matter how horrible those two days without touch had been, you were glad you had done it, because now your relationship with him felt better than ever.

“If you did, I’ll pick you up again and sleep on the couch with you.” He whispers, a small smirk playing on his face. Despite your argument, despite the storm that had been in your relationship, John can still be at peace in a way, because he is with you. You’re in his arms and this time – by the Gods – he is not letting you go.

“And I love you for it.” You whisper, before you lean in to kiss him. “I’m glad we could talk about this. Because I don’t think I would’ve survived us breaking up.” You admit.

“I don’t think I would have either.” John whispers back. “Not in a million years.” He is bathing in the feeling of your lips against his. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to fill him with a sense of joy he’d been missing for the past two days. “Can we do this? More often I mean.” He whispers, a little desperate, a little hopeful. “Or is it still too soon?” Just a taste, before he gets too worked up.

“What exactly?” You ask. “Not touching each other for two days, just to make up afterwards. Or just enjoying each other as a couple?” You’re teasing him, of course you know what he wants. “Just promise me I won’t have to be the one to initiate it all the time.” You whisper. “I want you to touch me too.”

“You won’t, I swear.”

His hands cup your face and he kisses you again. It’s not a small and sweet kiss, it’s a hungry kiss, one filled with a desperate need and the promise that more will come if only.. just a little bit more. John can’t help himself, his tongue explores yours, he’s pushing the limits, but the way you feel and the way you taste. It is almost enough to make him melt. The moment you pull back there is a little strand of saliva between the two of you, it had been a messy, sloppy kiss. But it’s enough for you to go back for seconds, you’re nearly as desperate and needy as he is. When you pull back for the second time, there is a smile on your lips. “You know.” You murmur in his ear. “I think we still have a little bit of making up to do.”

John stares at you, his eyes tracing your face and movements. “I think you’re right.” He whispers. He kisses you again, softly, sensually as his hands start to roam your body, beginning at your arms, tracing along all your curves. His kisses move from your lips, to your neck, leaving behind little traces of saliva, yet they’re hungry and deep.

“Oh fuck.” He groans in between the kisses against your soft skin. His hands become greedy, massaging every piece of skin they can grab. He is hungry, hungry for you.

In between your little noises of approval you find the strength to talk again. “It has been a while since we’ve done anything on the couch. And I’m quite comfy on your lap.”

Your words are enough to send his erection throbbing against his pants. “Oh god.” He groans against the crook of your neck. His hand moves up the edge of your shirt, his fingers pressing into the bare skin underneath it. “What exactly are you suggesting?” He croaks. “Be specific.”

Before you answer, you let your lips roam his skin, soft, wet kisses before you reach his ears. “I want you to strip me out of my uniform, and I want you to strip out of your uniform and I want you to fuck me on the couch.” A hoarse whisper in his ear. “Is that specific enough?”

Your kisses are too much, almost too painful, but in a way oh so perfect. He doesn’t want to waste any more time, he wants to feel you in a way he hasn’t felt you before. With the hunger of a teenager getting his first kiss he takes off your shirt. His gaze full of lust when he looks at the bare skin. “You look like an angel.” He mutters into your ear. He is growing impatient. Taking off his shirt by himself, before he unclasps your bra, his hands automatically going for the soft flesh of your breasts. It is almost as if he is in trance by them, no matter how often he has seen them.

When you finally get off his lap to take off your jeans, his hands work frantically fast to undo his own belt and jeans, kicking them off the moment they reach his ankles. His heart is beating almost uncontrollably, a heat starting to grow inside him. He pulls down his boxers, setting his erection free, while he takes the time to watch you undress yourself. His hand stroking his length while he enjoys the show.

He adores you, always has, but on moments like these it is hard to contain himself, the pace of his hand quickens when you’re standing in front of him, his eyes roaming the soft exposed flesh.

His hands go to your hips when you straddle him. “Are you sure?” He whispers. “I don’t want-“ You interrupt his words by taking his hand and letting his fingers brush against your wet folds. “I want you.” You murmur. “I want you now.”

His hips buck against you, head tilting back when he enters you. “Oh god.” He groans as he fills you fully. His hips are desperate when he pushes upwards. “Oh dear god.”

You know that tone all too well. This isn’t going to be a sweet, long session of love making. This will be some filthy quick fucking of two people who need each other. His hands hold you hips in place while he bucks into you, your little moans and whimpers drive him insane and he is holding on to you like you’re his goddess. You are life, in all its forms. “Oh, my love.” It leaves him breathless.

Your hands get placed on his knees, as you lean back a bit and his hungry gaze is on your body again, as he takes every opportunity to get deeper inside of you. One of his hands goes to your sweet clit, his thumb making soft circles, the increasing of your moaning tells him he is doing a good job. His pace quickens and he is getting close, but he wants you to come first, it is the least that he can do. His thumb flicks against the sensitive nub and it is driving you wild. “Yesyesyes.” A soft whimper. “more, more, more, please.”

It feels as if you’re holding on to a spring that is about to be released, and with a final flick that spring gets released. You cry out his name and it is music to his ears. His fingers dig into your hips as he lets himself go, spilling his seed deep into you.

After a few moment of catching his breath he looks at you, before he pulls you close. “God, you’re amazing.” He murmurs in your ear.

“This is amazing.” You answer. “I think we both needed this.”

His lips kiss your jawline, your cheeks, your nose. “I love you.” He whispers. “Let’s take a shower and sleep on the couch. For old times sake.”

[hier--soir]

🕯️ hier--soir's 4k gothic 🕯️

hey folks, somehow we've reached a point where there are over 4000 of you hanging out here and indulging my tomfoolery. so i thought i'd take a moment to say hi, say i love you, say i am endlessly grateful for this weird little corner of the internet, and i'd love to make some fun stuff to celebrate all that love + it’s a good excuse to write some little bits n bobs.

anyone who wants to play can send me something listed below, and i'll post it between mon 29th and sun 4th.

send as many asks as you like, just send them in separately please. if you request a fic, feel free to mention anything you don't want included in it [e.g. smut, gore]

PROMPTS- ╰┈➤ 🫀send me this with one of these prompts about "devotion" + a character [or two if you like] from the list below and i'll turn it into a ficlet [200-1000 words] that is bizarre or dark or gross or scary [or perhaps a mix of all the above] ╰┈➤ 🧛🏼send me this with a trope you love, and i'll recommend a film or a novel i think you might like. ╰┈➤ 🥀send me this with a prompt for a moodboard. it can be for a fic you love, a novel, a character, a film, an idea, anything. ╰┈➤ 🕯️mutuals send me this and i'll make a gothic moodboard based on your vibe.

CHARACTERS FOR FICLETS-

╰┈➤ joel miller

╰┈➤ ellie williams

╰┈➤ simon "ghost" riley

╰┈➤ johnny "soap" mactavish

╰┈➤ john price

tagging some moots that i think might want to play in the mud with me...

@joelscruff @agentmarcuspike @swiftispunk @5oh5 @sweetercalypso @softlyspector @bageldaddy @netherfeildren @atinylittlepain @atticrissfinch @macfrog @undercoverpena @fish-fearme @daydreamingmiller @mrsmando @saradika @thetriumphantpanda @ohcaptains @frannyzooey

🦷🫀🦇🏰

[owls-spice-cabinet]

The Inevitable

This took. Way too long to write, and it just kept getting longer, and here we are. This one-shot is sitting at a total of 13.5k words, so it will be posted in two parts, and I'll link the next/previous part on each post. Okay? Okay. Welcome to me. trying. @cod-dump @totally-not-fandom

Minors please leave, goodbye, go turn 18 before you come back

Words: ~6,500 Content: M/M/M threesome; anal fingering; anal sex; protected and unprotected sex; praise kink; (brief) masturbation; (brief) oral sex; aftercare; sharing a bed

Summary: Ending up here was kind of a given, after those two nights in London. Phillip is still more than happy to let Nik and John have their way with him while he figures out... everything.

Links to Dawning and Daybreak, the prequels to this.

Translations (in order of appearance): Родной = darling (lit. home/native place); Лев = lion; Лучик = sunshine

As soon as the door to the bedroom closed, Phillip felt hands on him—hands, he would point out—that had been absurdly well-behaved all evening until this point. John’s came first, landing on his shoulders and stopping him from walking farther into the room. He knew they were John’s hands because the kisses on his neck and ear that followed almost immediately after them came with a distinct tickle. Phillip sighed to himself and leaned back into him, tilting his head out of the way and letting his eyes fall closed.

“Can I take your coat?” John murmured in his ear. His fingers curled around the collar of Phillip’s black denim jacket.

“Could take more than that,” Phillip answered with a smile.

“Oh, we will.” He heard John chuckle, then felt him continue his trail of kisses up and down the side of his neck and jaw as he slid the jacket off his shoulders. When he stepped back to put it away, presumably, Phillip almost stumbled when he underestimated how much of his weight he’d been putting on John.

Nik’s large, warm hand slid into the curve of Phillip’s back, keeping him steady and drawing him farther into the room as Nik came to face him. The sudden change in temperature combined with the warmth radiating from Nik’s hand sent goosebumps prickling up Phillip’s back and shoulders.

“He is such a gentleman when he wants to be,” Nik smiled, glancing over Phillip’s shoulder briefly before leaning down to kiss him.

Phillip stepped up to him, bringing his arms up to rest them on Nik’s beautifully broad shoulders. He’d only had two glasses of wine with dinner, but Nik’s mouth could do about as much damage to his mental functions in two seconds flat. “Yeah, you’ve both been gentlemen all fuckin’ night,” he said when he managed to pull away. “And I’m fuckin’ sick of it.”

He heard John laugh quietly before his hands reappeared, this time resting snugly around Phillip’s ribs. “Are you saying we shouldn’t be so nice to you?” he asked, pressing his chest closely against Phillip’s back, boxing him in.

“I’m saying,” Phillip started, but his words faltered after both sets of hands on him squeezed almost at the same time. A rush of arousal made his breathing stutter, and he rested his forehead on Nik’s shoulder in front of him. It was one thing to have separate hook-ups in some random hotel room in London. It was an entirely different thing to have them both here, on a planned excursion, right down to letting him take them to dinner beforehand, then being invited back to their apartment (their very, very nice apartment). “Fuck me, holy hell,” he breathed, already feeling his face start to flush and his dick start to stiffen in his pants.

John pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the back of his neck, making him shudder again. “That’s the plan, yeah.”

One of Nik’s hands lifted from Phillip’s waist to his jaw, gently tilting his head up to kiss him again and drawing a quiet groan from him in the process. Vaguely, he was aware that John had stepped away, but he was far more concerned with getting Nik’s tongue inside his mouth. There was a soft click, and a dim light turned on, shining a faint orange color through his eyelids as his mind slowly turned to mush under the intensity of Nikolai’s attention. It was a distinction between them, he’d noticed. Nik felt a bit like an ocean current, with this constant draw towards an unknown depth, and Phillip had found himself completely surrounded and adrift before he’d even known what had hit him—quite literally.

Not that he’d change a thing, of course.

When he finally had to pull away to breathe, Phillip felt John’s hand at his hip, gripping there almost possessively. John, always more up-front, always blunter, but just as intense, if only in a different manner. He kept his distance, cool and calculating, until he had all the information he wanted. After that, it was like lightning striking a dead tree and setting it ablaze: his affections were consuming; they were bright and sharp and almost made to leave marks.

“Are you feeling left out?” Phillip asked, looking over his shoulder to him.

In reply, John merely grabbed his other hip and pulled Phillip’s ass flush against his groin and the tangible hardness there. Phillip moaned quietly, leaning back into him slightly.

“’Left out’ is not the phrase I’d use, no,” John said, putting his mouth right near Phillip’s ear. “Get your shirt off.”

“Please,” Nik added with a smile, though it was hard to know at whom it was directed.

Phillip hurried to do just that, silently cursing the buttons as his eagerness made it difficult not to rip the garment off of himself. But he wouldn’t do that; this was a nice shirt, no matter how turned on he was or how unreasonably attractive the two men with him were. Fortunately, three pairs of hands made quick work of it and the white undershirt beneath it, leaving him bare from the waist up.

John made a noise in the back of his throat, one arm immediately looping around Phillip’s waist. “Fuck, there we go,” he hissed, pulling their bodies together and putting his mouth to work on the join between Phillip’s neck and shoulder. Phillip’s mouth dropped open as he sagged against him, his head lolling back onto his shoulder.

Nik clicked his tongue. “Always so impatient,” he said, leaning in to press light kisses to the underside of Phillip’s jaw. “Needs to slow down,” he went on, bringing a hand up to cover the hand John had splayed across Phillip’s waist, “and take his time.”

If these two took any more time with this, Phillip was going to lose his fucking mind. He was already squirming in John’s arms under the onslaught of marks and kisses he was leaving on his neck. His mind was feeling slightly fuzzy from all the attention, and his heart was racing from the sheer anticipation. His jeans were becoming uncomfortably tight, and he just wanted so badly.

John’s head came up. “You want us to take our time, Phillip?”

“No, absolutely not!” he gasped. “Fucking hell—if someone doesn’t have his hands or his mouth on my dick in the next two minutes, I’m gonna lose it.”

It made them both laugh, John burying his face against Phillip’s head, and Nik putting his head back, his eyes squinting nearly closed when his cheeks rounded with his smile. He was so fucking beautiful, it was almost unfair. Almost, because the very next thing he did was cup Phillip’s face in both hands to kiss him.

“You got some ideas this time, or are you still open to negotiations?” John asked, wrapping both arms around his waist.

“Well, someone better fuck me properly,” Phillip answered, “because we actually have the time, the space, and I’m assuming the equipment to do that.”

Once again, John helpfully ground the bulge in his pants against Phillip’s ass, pulling a quiet groan from his lips. “I would certainly hope we have the equipment.”

Phillip stoically resisted the instinctual urge to press back against him, because that line had been so horrendously bad, he didn’t want to reward it. “Nikolai,” he said. “Beautiful man that you are.”

That made Nik’s whole face light up like a dog whose owner just said the word walk. “Yes?”

He patted John’s arms around his waist. “Get this man’s clothes off. Now, before he says anything worse than what just came out of his mouth.”

There was a second of silence in which Phillip started lifting John’s arms from around his body before what he’d said fully sank in. “What?” John said, looking between the two of them.

The smile on Nik’s face turned sharper, his dark eyes moving to fix on John’s face as Phillip slipped out of his hold and stepped aside. Nik reached out and took hold of one side of the collar of John’s open overshirt, pulling him closer.

“Nik…”

“What?” Both his tone and his expression were kept carefully innocent, even as his hands curled around John’s waist. “Are you suddenly opposed to me taking your clothes off after all these years?”

John shot a glare at Phillip, but there was hardly any heat to the expression, and he was quickly diverted when Nik’s lips pressed onto his neck. He turned back to Nik, about to say something, but was interrupted by the Russian’s mouth finding his, finally. Phillip watched, moving the short distance to the bed so he could sit down and take off his shoes. John’s overshirt came off first, leaving him in a light grey V-neck t-shirt that had had Phillip desperately trying not to stare at his chest all evening.

He could stare all he wanted now, hungrily taking in the way the fabric stretched over his chest and strained around his shoulders and biceps. His eyes caught Nik’s hands sliding under the hem and traveling up… and up…. Phillip kicked off his second shoe and whistled softly.

Immediately, John broke the kiss with Nik to whip his head around and stare at him. “Did you just whistle at me?”

Phillip met his gaze. “Well, it sure wasn’t Nik.”

That got another flat look, but before John could reply, Nik pulled his shirt up and over his head, forcing him to be rid of it just to see again.

“I don’t blame him,” Nik grinned, shamelessly staring at John’s chest. “You are very handsome, Родной.”

Phillip vaguely recalled Nik once telling him what that word meant, but he couldn’t be bothered to think about it any further right now. He’d just realized he’d never actually seen John entirely shirtless—either of them, come to think of it. Last time, he’d been far more focused on getting into John’s pants than getting his shirt off, and with Nik, his ability to form coherent thoughts had left him as soon as Nik’s hands had gotten past his waistband.

But holy fuck. John was fucking stunning. After how many years in the military, he finally could put two and two together to actually look at what was in front of him and realize he wanted it. Phillip knew his own musculature was fairly lean and always had been, but John…. He could see a thin layer of fat blanketing his abdomen, could see Nik’s thumb sink into it at his hip when he squeezed. His eyes followed the dark trail of hair from where it disappeared below John’s waistband up to where it splayed out over his chest. The metal tags hung around his neck sat perfectly in the valley between his pecs, and the urge to bury his nose next to them was slowly overtaking most of Phillip’s mind.

He hadn’t even noticed John or Nik were speaking until John stepped up to him and put his hand in his hair, gently encouraging him to look up at his face.

“I asked a question,” he said with a smile that implied he knew Phillip hadn’t heard it.

Phillip swallowed. “Didn’t hear it.” His eyes darted down when they caught the movement of Nik’s hand on John’s side again, slowly running up and down. Phillip’s hands itched to join it.

“I think you’re distracting him, Лев,” Nik said with a smirk, kissing John’s bare shoulder in front of him.

If that wasn’t the fucking truth.

John kept his hand in Phillip’s hair as he leaned down to kiss him forcefully, his tongue slipping between his lips that hadn’t had the chance to fully close. Phillip moaned into his mouth, his hands immediately moving to touch and hold and knead whatever bare skin he could reach. He almost felt a little lightheaded from the sheer force of desire running through him as he was eased onto his back. John’s free hand slid up the side of his ribs to his nipple, pinching it lightly and rolling it between two fingers. Phillip gasped, arching into the novel sensation without thinking, a quiet keening noise coming from the back of his throat.

“Fuck me, beautiful,” John groaned. “Prettiest fuckin’ noises you make.”

He was getting desperate after all the attention going everywhere except where he needed it most. “Fuck, John,” he whined as the warm palm of John’s hand massaged over his nipple, and his mouth left a trail of wet kisses under his ear and down his neck. “Please, please—”

“Please what, Лучик?” Nik’s voice came from somewhere to the left on the bed.

He growled in frustration when it took him longer than usual to put together a sentence. “Need someone—hah, fuck.” John had pulled just a bit more on his hair, scrambling his thoughts all over again. He grabbed John’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “If you’re not having too much fun, please fuck me already,” he said. Some of the sternness in his voice was lost for being a bit breathless, but at least he’d gotten the words out.

John hummed. “And Nik calls me impatient.” Bastard.

Nik chuckled from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Nik also asked if he could prep you for me.”

A jumble of memories from the hotel in London surfaced in Phillip’s mind, reminding him exactly how well Nik could use his hands. His legs hadn’t stopped trembling for hours after he’d left. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” he said, turning his head to see where Nik was sitting.

For all the time and teasing it had taken just to get to that point, Phillip was quickly reminded of how efficient John and Nik could be when they wanted. In under a minute, John had stripped him of his remaining clothing, kicked off his own shoes, and half-helped half-dragged Phillip farther onto the bed (the king-sized bed, he might point out), laying him out diagonally on his back with his head pillowed on one of his thighs. Nik took off his shoes and tossed a bottle to John before climbing onto the bed and crawling to kneel between Phillip’s legs.

Nik let out a breath as his eyes raked up and down the sight in front of him. His hands went to Phillip’s thighs, kneading the muscle there as he watched Phillip try not to squirm under the direct attention. “Just as pretty as I remember,” he smiled, his hands sliding up to where the back of Phillip’s thighs met his ass and squeezing.

Phillip huffed and looked up to the ceiling, feeling a searing blush coming over his face and down his neck. In the time since starting… whatever it was the three of them were doing, he’d been called pretty and beautiful more times than he could ever count. He had no idea what to do with it, only that it never failed to make him turn all shades of pink. He lifted his legs a little on reflex as Nik’s hands moved. Nik only shuffled closer and used his knees to prop up Phillip’s thighs, keeping his legs open for him.

He leaned over, starting a line of kisses just above Phillip’s belly button. “You were so good for me the first time,” he murmured as he worked his way higher. “Made such filthy noises for me.” Phillip felt his teeth scrape gently against his bottom rib and gave a quiet whine. Nik grinned up at him before continuing. “I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers so perfectly again.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nik,” John hissed, shifting his legs underneath Phillip’s head.

The grin he threw John was nothing short of wicked. But the expression softened when he turned back to Phillip. “Can you do that again for me, Лучик?”

Phillip let out a sharp breath he hadn’t realized he’d held in. “Yes, yeah,” he nodded, reaching for Nik’s hand on the sheets next to him. “I can do that—”

He’d meant to add a please at the end, but it was stifled by Nik’s mouth finally reaching his own, and that was just fine by him. There was a soft click when John popped the cap on the bottle of lube Nik had tossed to him earlier. Nik drew back, sitting back on his heels. He kept one hand on Phillip’s hip and held the other out to John. It struck Phillip then, the enormous amount of trust that had gone unspoken for him to be here. This wasn’t a hotel room, this wasn’t a room on base somewhere, this was a living space. The whole room had smelled of them both as soon as he’d walked in, and they’d led him here, brought him into their space, and were very happily working together to utterly ruin him.

The thoughts made his head spin, until John patted his cheek and made him refocus on him. “Stop thinking. Can hear it from here,” he said without any edge. “Let Nik do what he likes best.”

“Best?” Nik repeated, rubbing his fingers together to warm up the lube John had put in his hand.

“Is there another reason you take for bleedin’ ever getting me open any chance you get?”

Nik just grinned and didn’t give an answer. His hand dipped out of sight between Phillip’s legs, and the steady buzz of anticipation that had been humming under his skin since he’d seen them that evening built to a boil. Just as quickly, most of it vanished, dissipating under the press of Nik’s finger against his hole.  One of John’s hands came down on the center of his chest, the warmth from it seeping into his skin. A quiet breath left his lips as Nik’s finger gently eased past his entrance. It wasn’t a familiar feeling yet, but he did know with great certainty now that it would feel good—it would feel amazing—in time.

“So good for us,” Nik murmured, slowly working his finger in and out, never leaving him entirely empty.

Phillip let his eyes close, floating in the rush of pleasure the phrase sent through him. John’s hand on his chest moved to cover one side of his chest, pressing his fingers gently into the muscle there.

“You enjoy that?” he asked, his voice a low rumble from somewhere above.

Phillip’s eyes flicked open, a snarky reply already forming in his mind. In what world wouldn’t he be enjoying this?

John’s other hand went to cup his face, upside-down though it was. “You enjoy being a good boy for us, beautiful?”

Fuck. His breath hitched. A shock of arousal bloomed in his belly, making him clench down around Nik’s finger involuntarily. He heard Nik groan and felt his finger flex inside him a fraction. His dick twitched, already hard and beading liquid at the tip from Nik’s careful attention. Phillip tried to cover his face, but John grabbed his hands to stop him.

“Oh, no, no,” John smiled, holding Phillip’s hands away from his face. “We need to see all the pretty faces you make.”

Nik’s finger crooked very deliberately, nailing the spot inside him that got him arching off the bed. His eyes screwed shut and his mouth dropped open with a cry as the pleasure washed over him in a flood.

“God dammit,” he breathed. He glanced down and saw a very satisfied smile stuck on Nik’s face. Oh, he was not going to be walking right tomorrow morning.

“I don’t think you’re going to last very long, Родной,” Nik said, looking to John as he very deliberately avoided Phillip’s prostate with each thrust of his finger. John replied with some unfamiliar word in Russian, but it sounded like a half-hearted insult.

Phillip squirmed where he lay stuck between them, wanting more now that Nik had given him a taste.

One of John’s hands let go of Phillip’s hands that he’d still been holding and moved to rest atop his abdomen, keeping him in place lightly. “Need something? Use your words, Phillip.”

Bastard. He whined quietly when Nik just barely ghosted over the spot he’d been avoiding. It made his toes curl in desperation. “More. Want more, please, Nik.”

Nik hummed appreciatively in response. “He asks so nicely. Should learn from him, he’s a good example,” he told John with a smirk.

John might have responded, but whatever he said was lost on Phillip as Nik slowly added his second finger to join the first. Phillip groaned, his eyes fluttering closed at the gentle burn that came when Nik pressed into him. Time turned quickly to mush in his brain as Nik’s long and very talented fingers worked him open. He drifted in and out of awareness, happily floating in the haze of pleasure and enjoying the sporadic jolts that came when Nik nudged the right spot.

Two fingers became three after a while, and Phillip happily arched into the feeling of being full. “Yes, fuck yes,” he hissed.

It wasn’t lost on him that Nik was being slightly more restrained than their previous encounter. But it also wasn’t lost on him that last time, the goal had been to make him come as many times as possible in a given number of hours, and Nik had taken his own sweet time going about that. But this time, he had to share, and was purposefully pulling Phillip as close to the edge of climax as he safely could without fear of accidentally pushing him over with a well-timed word of praise. In short, it was fucking torture, feeling perfectly strung out, with warm hands still roaming over his bare skin, and three fingers pumping into his ass with unerring precision.

He was practically writhing under their hands when Nik’s hand slowed its onslaught. As the fog of pleasure thinned, a mindless jumble of protests rose in Phillip’s throat, but never made it much further. Nik leaned over him as he withdrew his hand, happily taking whatever words were forming in Phillip’s mouth into his own.

Phillip grumbled when he pulled back, reaching out to his face to bring him back, but he caught his wrist in his clean hand. “I think we’ve tortured John enough, Лучик,” he smiled, his dark eyes flicking towards John briefly. “And as much as I enjoy having my fingers in you, if I put anything else there, I would break you.”

He’d said the same thing last time.

“John better fucking hurry up then,” he grumbled, letting Nik hold his head up slightly so John could slip out from underneath it. He carefully moved from where he’d been kneeling, letting Phillip’s legs rest back on the sheets. He didn’t like the combination of being this outrageously turned on and feeling empty.

John flicked his nose. “Watch it. You wanna walk tomorrow or not?”

He grinned, looking over at him upside down as he shuffled out of his pants and underwear. “Is that a trick question?” A brief glare was all he got in reply. He licked his lips when John’s cock bobbed free of his clothes. The thrum of anticipation was back in his blood and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from John’s figure as he took something out of a drawer in the bedside table and knelt on the bed near Phillip’s hips. “Can I do that?” he asked, recognizing the square foil packet in John’s hands.

John looked at him, then glanced at Nik sitting against the headboard beside them both. He tossed the packet onto his chest and moved to straddle Phillip’s hips. Phillip put a hand on the condom, then jolted when their dicks brushed up against each other. But he pushed himself up and tore open the packet. John was silent as he rolled the condom down his shaft, only taking deep breaths and squeezing his eyes closed once. When it was done, he put a hand loosely around the front of Phillip’s neck and pulled him in against his mouth, which helpfully reminded him how much he enjoyed letting John push him around. Phillip sighed into the kiss and let him lay him back down on the sheets.

“Good boy,” John murmured against his lips, sending a shudder down Phillip’s spine. John picked up the bottle of lube that he’d set aside before while he repositioned himself to kneel between Phillip’s legs instead of on top of them. “God, you are a sight spread out like this, aren’t you?” he said while he waited for the lube to warm up on his fingers.

Nik hummed in agreement. “Makes me glad he wears his layers in the field. Wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“You keep them to yourself on a normal day?” Phillip replied, turning his head. Nik just gave a sharp smile in return.

He turned back when John’s hand picked up his left leg to bend it at the knee. “Eyes on me, beautiful. You tell me if anything hurts, yes?”

Phillip nodded, the anticipation once again building up and robbing him of enough breath to speak. John spread the lube down his shaft and leaned over him to line himself up. The blunt pressure was familiar, albeit multiplied, from what he’d felt with just Nik’s fingers. It didn’t hurt, though—it was just enough of a pleasant burn. He gasped quietly when he felt the head of John’s cock slip in and rest there.

“Good?”

“Yes,” he breathed, one arm twining up the arm John had planted near his shoulder. “Yeah, keep going.”

John dipped his head to kiss his forehead before he pressed on. It was slow, arduously slow, but Phillip didn’t want him to go any faster just yet. He was enjoying the growing feeling of being utterly surrounded by John’s presence—by his warmth, his strength, his scent. He could hear Nik’s breathing nearby, too, and in the best way possible, he knew there wasn’t a safer place to be in the world right now.

A twinge of discomfort made his brows scrunch and his hand tighten around John’s shoulder. John stopped moving, blue eyes fixed on Phillip’s face, reading it carefully.

“I’m good—just,” Phillip paused, breathing deeply. “Just wait a sec for me.”

Again, John bent down, this time kissing his cheek and then his brow. “Take what you need. You’re doing well,” he added, his voice a low murmur in the blanketing stillness in the room. He turned his head slightly to say something in quiet Russian to Nik, who nodded in reply and got off the bed and disappeared into a side room—Phillip assumed it was a bathroom.

He tapped John’s shoulder. “Think I’m good.”

It went on just like that for what felt like far longer than it probably was. Phillip’s mind was already reeling from just how full he felt, and how there always seemed to be more to take regardless. Nik returned with a hand towel, and John wiped his hand clean before gently using it to pull Phillip’s leg up a bit further. It drew a groan from him as the angle changed minutely and John’s cock pressed into him that much deeper. At some point, John lowered himself to his elbows, framing Phillip’s head as he pressed to fill him.

And the praise never stopped. If it wasn’t coming from John, Nik picked it up from where he sat again by the headboard, watching intently. It made his insides flip to have someone else’s eyes on him like this, but it was never unpleasant or unwelcome.

John picked up Phillip’s other leg to make it bend like the first one, nuzzling under his jaw to leave a trail of kisses while he did it. Phillip wrapped his legs around him instead, and John growled right by his ear, rolling his hips forward until they pressed up against his ass. He buried his face in the juncture between Phillip’s neck and shoulder, taking carefully measured breaths and clenching his fists until the knuckles paled.

Phillip wasn’t much better, his mind and body stumbling as they tried to process how full he felt—and how fucking good he felt. He slid his hand along John’s shoulder to the back of his neck as his mind snagged on the fact that a man he’d once had orders to kill was now balls deep in his ass and struggling to regain composure because of it. It was a heady concept. “John?”

He raised his head immediately, kissing him forcefully. “You’re fine, darlin’,” he murmured against his mouth before pressing their lips together a second time.

He heard Nik hum in amusement before he spoke. “I told you, you wouldn’t—”

John broke off his kiss abruptly to look over. “Fuck off, Nik.”

It took a moment for his hazy mind, but he eventually remembered Nik saying something about John not lasting very long. A slow smile appeared on his face, and he let the hand on the back of John’s neck slip down until he could dig his fingers into one of his pecs. “Did I almost make you lose it, handsome?” His smile only widened when he got a familiar glare in reply.

“Does the bratty comment mean you’re ready for me to move?”

“Oh, were you still gonna get around to that?” He didn’t know why pushing John’s buttons was so immensely entertaining, but it was. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Nik laughed quietly, covering his mouth when John glared at him. He huffed in annoyance, but couldn’t do much else with both arms still supporting his weight above Phillip. Slowly, he pulled his hips back a couple inches, then pushed back in firmly. It made Phillip’s stomach swoop and his thighs clench around John’s sides.

He grunted, ducking his head. “Christ alive,” he hissed, already pulling back again, farther than before. “You are a fuckin’ vice, sweetheart,” he added as he thrust in.

The endearment, no matter how intentional it had been, had Phillip’s eyes slipping closed again as a rush of heated desire ran through him. Without meaning to, he squeezed down around John’s shaft as he slid out of him, earning another strangled curse and a particularly strong thrust back in. The force rocked his body slightly, knocking a moan from his chest. His hands clamped down wherever they’d settled on John’s body.

“Shit, do that again,” he breathed, a little dizzy from just how spectacularly good that had felt. John did just that, and he swore he saw stars when his eyes rolled back behind his lids. “Yes, jus’ like that, fuck,” he gasped.

“You want me to be a little rough with you?” John asked. God, he was sight to behold looking down at him. His blue eyes were dark with desire. His ears and neck were flushed pink. Small strands of hair were drooping over his forehead, and even more were sticking up at the back of his head where Phillip had messed with them.

Phillip grinned, squeezing his legs around him slightly. “Pretty please?”

“Fuck me,” he muttered, leaning to capture his mouth again.

When he drew back, he picked up his movements again, gradually finding a steady rhythm with his thrusts. It wasn’t a very fast pace, but each thrust was strong enough to jostle Phillip’s whole body even with his legs locked around John’s waist. As far as Phillip cared, he was in seventh heaven, basking in the friction of John’s length slipping in and out against his walls and enjoying every second of having his insides rearranged inch by inch, one thrust at a time. He wasn’t shy about making sure John knew that, either. Frankly, he was over the fucking moon just to have finally figured out what all the fuss was about over sex in the first place. It probably would’ve taken a gag to shut him up.

“Fuck yes! God, that’s good,” he groaned, digging his fingers into the meat of John’s shoulders. “Can you—ah, shit!” His coherency was rapidly failing him. “Harder, can you fuck me ha—” The word broke off into a loud moan when the head of John’s dick happened to press right into his prostate without warning.

“Harder?” John repeated, breathing heavily but still far more composed.

He grabbed one of Phillip’s legs and bent it up almost against his chest. He resumed the same rhythm more or less, and on the third piston of his hips against Phillip’s ass, he found his target. Phillip cried out, pressing his head back against the sheets, his mind quickly unraveling as John managed to hit that same spot over and over again with almost every powerful stroke. Phillip’s body went alight with pleasure, his heart pounding, the arousal pooling at the base of his spine pulling like a rope, tighter and tighter, closer and closer to snapping.

His vocabulary shrunk until the jumble of words pouring out of his mouth included only John’s name, a slew of curses, and the word yes as he hurtled towards an orgasm that would no doubt shatter him. He tapped one of John’s shoulders where he clung to him, summoning enough brain power to say, “Keep going, fuck—please,” between thrusts when he could breathe.

John kissed him, slightly uncoordinated, with more teeth involved than usual, but just as fiercely.

“You’re being such a good boy.” It took his scrambled brain several seconds to figure out John wasn’t the one speaking, considering his tongue was still very much in Phillip’s mouth. Nik went on, sounding a bit closer than he had been. “Taking him so well, just beautifully.”

Phillip whined, breaking away from John’s mouth and screwing his eyes closed. Fuck, he was so close. He was teetering on the edge of oblivion, but just couldn’t quite get the momentum to fall, and it was maddening. But he didn’t have words in his head to say that, so all he could do was claw at John’s shoulders and back, pulling him closer with his leg.

“Are you close, Лучик?” Nik asked, now lying on his side next to him, combing his fingers through Phillip’s hair. The soft gesture was in direct contrast to the harsh pace at which John’s dick was slamming into him. It made his head spin worse than it already was.

But he nodded desperately. “Please,” he whimpered, too lost to care what he sounded like. “Please, ‘m so close.” Even with the praise and the attention, it wasn’t enough, not quite. He growled in frustration.

“Do you want a hand?” Nik asked, slipping his other hand between them to rest on Phillip’s stomach.

“Yes!”

Phillip could have sobbed from relief when Nik’s warm hand wrapped around his aching dick. John’s pace had started to stutter every few thrusts, but he maintained his precision, absolutely nailing his sweet spot with each stroke. Nik barely had to move his hand, merely slicking his fingers with the precum oozing out of the tip, and holding him loosely for John’s thrusts to do the work of sliding the shaft through his grasp. But it was exactly what Phillip needed.

It felt like he’d been punched in the gut as his climax knocked the breath out of him. He came in spurts across his own stomach and Nik’s hand as his body locked up around John.

“Jesus, fuck—!" John gasped, his hips stuttering over the next few thrusts as he fucked him through his orgasm. “Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he grunted, finally pushing in deep and emptying himself into the condom with a groan.

It took several long seconds for Phillip’s brain to come back online. His body felt like jelly, and his brain wasn’t much better. There was a thin sheen of sweat over his face, neck, and chest. His legs specifically protested when John let go of the leg he’d been holding and eased it back down to the sheets. John’s mouth found his, temporarily distracting him from the discomfort.

“How are you feeling?” Nik asked, stroking Phillip’s hair softly.

He paused, just breathing for a second or two. “Wobbly. But… good. Really good.” He squirmed and frowned, then pointed to the mess on his stomach. “Don’t like this, though.”

John kissed his forehead one last time before pushing himself up. “We’ll get you cleaned up. This might feel strange,” he added. He used one hand to hold the base of the condom while he carefully eased out of Phillip’s hole. It did feel strange, but Nik was very happy to distract him with kisses and praise until it was done.

Again, the two of them were fast and efficient—and seemingly more so to Phillip’s fucked-out brain that was still moving rather sluggishly. Nik used the towel he’d gotten earlier to wipe off his stomach and between his legs, pressing kisses to his sweaty skin whenever he could. John disposed of his condom and then disappeared into the bathroom, only to return with a glass of water. Phillip didn’t have any experience being on this end of the aftercare, but he had to admit, he enjoyed it. It left him with a warm fuzzy feeling, as cliché as it sounded. Nik helped him sit up, and John sat down behind him, handing him the glass and then wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Your hair’s amazing,” he remarked, reaching up and poking some of the strands sticking up at wild angles at the back of his head. It did the same thing every morning, and a good portion of his routine was taming it in the mirror before he could face his troops.

Phillip rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, it does that.”

“You look like a hedgehog.”

“I do not!”

Nik laughed. “No, he’s right. It’s cute.”

Despite his efforts, Phillip couldn’t stop himself smiling. He took a big drink from the glass in his hand, happily settling against John’s chest behind him.

“Still feeling alright?” John asked, rubbing Phillip’s bare stomach with his thumbs.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Is it alright if I stop holding you?”

It was an odd question, but he answered honestly. “Yeah… I’m pretty sure. Why?” John rested his chin on his shoulder. “Because Nik’s not gonna be able to sleep tonight if he doesn’t fuck me out of his system..."

Continued in Part 2 ->

[blindseer0]

Jenna During Carl's Route

(Spoilers for Carl’s Route)

(New analysis, now formatted for Tumblr. I swear they won’t all be about Jenna, but I needed to get this one out of my system. If you haven't read my last post about Jenna, I'd recommend it since I'll be referencing it here.)

https://www.tumblr.com/blindseer0/757394083370123264/who-is-jenna-and-what-is-her-route-about?source=share

In my last post I talked about how Jenna is one of the characters people have the hardest time getting a handle on. Part of that is because she mostly features in two routes: 1) her route, which I’ve already talked about, and 2) Carl’s Route, where she’s possessed for most of it; so she’s obviously acting out of character, right? Well, no, I think Jenna is actually still herself in all the ways that matter, and Carl’s Route is both a great look into her and just as much her route as his.

Between the possession by John and the influence of the Hum, how can I say that Jenna is still herself? Well, let’s look at how the possession works. John and James can influence their descendants, Jenna and Carl, and their ability to do so increases as the week goes on, being at its strongest in the dream mansion. James is able to “control” Carl while he sleeps during the early parts of his route, making him ram the wall and hide evidence of what James did to John. Otherwise, we don’t see any other effects until the Hysteria is in full effect and they’re in the dream mansion.

While in the dream mansion, James is able to communicate with Carl in his dreams, and, if not talk to him, “hint” to him what the “correct” course of action is. Carl describes this as making him feel powerful, confident, all the things he’s not normally able to be and feels he lacks. Most importantly though, Carl knows James is separate from him and can choose not to do what he wants. The pivotal route choice is whether Carl should let James take full control or fight his influence. If you choose “Fight it”, James loses all influence over Carl for the rest of the route, and Carl describes it as “easy”.

If Carl, whose defining traits are a lack of confidence in his ability and an overreliance on others to make difficult decisions for him, is able to fight the embodiment of privileged, colonial overconfidence that is James, why is Jenna, who everyone says is the strongest person they know, so easily influenced by John? The answer is she lets him, because, like Carl and James, John gives her something she’s always wanted: the permission to get fucking angry at the injustices in her life.

Jenna doesn’t hate Carl, but her family does. They blame him (and his family) for everything that is wrong in their lives, for why they’re the messes they are, and for why their lives are miserable. But Jenna has defined herself in opposition to her family. In this narrative they’re the victims, and nothing that is wrong is actually their fault, so Jenna refuses to let her family’s past define her and refuses to be a victim (which I talked about in the last post).

AND TO BE CLEAR, western expansion and genocide is a huge fucking factor in her family’s current state (and the lives of real Native Americans). What James did to John even more so. They don’t have to forgive and forget what was done to them, and neither I, nor the game, think Native Americans should do so. Jenna is still defined by her heritage and cares about it, as shown by her grandmother and chiding Flynn for going to the casino, but the anger her family has isn’t something she lets out.

Jenna and Carl are foils in more than just their heritage though. Jenna grew up poor, in an abusive, controlling household that offered her no privacy (in Route 65 her door is literally removed) or autonomy (she doesn’t have a car and doesn’t seem to have a cell phone in Route 65). Her parents seem to be chronically unemployed, she’s watched her brothers literally and metaphorically killing themselves, and she has no future if she stays in Echo.

Carl, on the other hand, grew up the only son of rich and decent, if absentee, parents who don’t go through his stuff, control what he does (we know he played M rated games as a child) and didn’t really care where he went (like the Route 65 party). Unlike Jenna, who is probably the first person in her family to go to college, Carl is expected to go to college as a matter of course and has a guaranteed, successful, career ahead of him.

This isn’t to say that Carl doesn’t have his own problems or that they’re not serious issues, but to point out that, to Jenna, he has everything she has been denied. It’s also important that he’s a man and she’s a woman, and the societal pressures they feel are different. (I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that he’s into Western Comics and wants to be an artist, while Jenna is into Manga/Anime, something she views as a luxury. They both use comics to escape from the real world, but in very different ways.)

Chase and Carl tell us that Jenna yelling at Carl during his birthday party isn’t like her, but I think the stuff she’s saying is perfectly in character. We see her say similar things in her route about Leo and Heather (which Chase says sounds rehearsed) and in Flynn’s route about Flynn. She’s taken her life in her own hands, left Echo against all odds, and is making something of herself. She’s done this all by herself with no support (or so she tells herself). For Jenna, college is a way to leave Echo, and the fact that Carl would just give up and stay there, to rot away like they both know he is, is inconceivable. If she could leave and make it, then he, with all of his privilege, can do the same and it’s completely unfair that he’s choosing to waste it.

No, what I think is actually unusual for Jenna isn’t what she’s saying, but the fact that she’s saying it aloud. Jenna talks about how Socketman usually appeared “when I was sad, or angry, like when dad was having one of his…moments.” People who grow up in abusive households like that learn not to talk back, not to get angry or sad, because it will just make the abuse worse, so Jenna made sure not to let any of that out (I’d love to go into how Socketman plays into this, but that will be its own post). Making herself seem calm and personable to the outside world was also a survival method, because she didn’t want anyone’s pity or scorn. (Again, gender, socioeconomic status, and ethnicity play into all of this).

And despite being her closest friends, because they’re her closest friends, Chase and Carl don’t know about this side of Jenna because she made sure they wouldn’t. She didn’t talk about her home life, she didn’t tell Chase in Route 65 why she had missed school, and she didn’t tell any of them about the situation with Heather, even when Leo directly asked her.

So, when the Hysteria starts effecting her, Jenna lets out everything she’s been holding in. All of the negative emotions, her anger at the injustices she’s faced, her frustrations with her friends and the unfairness of life, she unloads them all on Carl, a symbol of rich, colonial privilege. It’s not fair to him, but she’s not wrong to feel that way either.

She’s grown-up hearing about what the Hendricks did to the Begays, and she pushed it down. She grew up seeing Carl have all these things she was denied, and she pushed it down. She saw Carl wasting his life despite all of that and she (tried to) just push it down.

And when she ends up in the dream mansion and John tells her it’s all Carl/James’ fault, that they can be angry at the injustices that have been done to them together, that they can let it all out, she lets him take control of her, because it’s exactly how she feels.

(This is also why I think Carl's route is a great exploration of colonialism, generational trauma, what the descendants of the colonizers owe the people they genoicded, and the stories they tell themselves about those actions, but this is not the post to go into that and I am arguably not the person to do so.)

To summarize, I think Jenna is perfectly in character during Carl's route, even when she's possessed by John (an action she lets happen) because it is the route where she gets to vent all of her frustrations, personal and generational.

Carl's route gets a lot of flak as skippable or most boring, but I think there is a lot more to it on second read than most people give it credit for. I think the character work for Carl, Jenna, and even Chase are all top notch, and it has some of the most interesting overarching themes in the game. If you haven't played it recently, I recommend going back to it and giving it another try; it's rough and definitely not perfect, but there is a lot of good there as well.

(If you're a certain type of brain rotted, it's the "Stay/Night" to Leo/Jenna's "Unlimited Blade Works" and TJ/Flynn's "Heaven's Feel".)

Remember, all of this is just my read and interpretation of the text; if you disagree, that’s ok. I just wanted to explore some of the nuances I don’t often see talked about and give people another perspective on this game and these characters.

Going to try and work on the post about “Leo, Jenna, and College in Echo” so that I can actually write about “Leo and Conservatism”, but I saw people talking about Carl’s Route and had to get this out of my system. Until then, continue to imagine people, and characters, complexly.

[brain-palace]

Notes: This post is created as an archive for myself so I can easily find the fics I love. If you're looking for something new to read feel free to have a look I recommend everything here. I read many different characters/universes, so I'll list them all so you don't waste time looking at something that isn't relevant to you. If you find something you like please show the fics and their authors some love! Also, this is a long post!

Disclaimer: None of the works below belongs to me unless it explicitly says so. © - All rights reserved to the authors. If a fic does not have a name I will make one up for the sake of archival purposes.

Characters/Universes TWD (The walking dead) - Daryl & Rick | Criminal Minds - Hotch & Ried | Stranger Things - Eddie, Steve, Billy | MCU - Peter Parker | Peakcy blinders - Tommy, John, Arthur, Alfie | The devil all the time - Arvin russel | Sherlock

Key ➸ Angst ☁ | Fluff ♡ | Crack ❈ | On-going ✎ | Completed ✓ | Smut 🔞 |

Daryl Dixon (TWD) ↴ Series ↴

Spitfire | by @rfsak2 | OC (Original character) | "Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one." | ✎

Close to home | by @paintyoureyeswithavividmind | "When a run goes poorly and Daryl is separated from his group, a stranger and her companion help get him out of a sticky situation. Little does Daryl know this stranger is much closer to home and his life is going to get a bit more complicated" | ✎♡ ☁

Return | by @daryl-dixon-daydreams | "Daryl loses Y/N when they head into Atlanta to rescue Beth. Her absence colours his years until they find each other again." | ♡ ☁ ❈ ✎

Till dead do us part | by @xwritingdixonx | "Daryl Dixon hasn't seen his wife in 3 years until he strolls through the gates of Alexandria. Reunited with his love and his family, he should feel peace, tranquillity, warmth. Instead, he's faced with confusion, shock, and heartache. Just like so many others put through the abuse and torment of the world, it changes people. Twists your mind, makes all your morals disappear. The kind waitress, the brave bartender, Georgia's delight, Mrs. Dixon. Now, mother of nothing - daughter of rage. The whore of Alexandria. A conqueror with tits. Why can't the Blackwell family get a word in before the people of Alexandria point fingers and create storybook titles? It's finally your turn to talk and Daryl's turn to listen." |

Oneshots ↴

The regulars | by daryl-dixon-daydreams | "Based on watching your interactions, Daryl thinks you, a bartender at a local dive, may actually have a thing for his older brother Merle, but a series of events at the bar may begin to show him otherwise" | ♡

All I'm living for | by @alldevilsharehere90 | "Just when you finally got the man you wanted, another surprise could threaten your relationship, especially when a herd of walkers is almost at your doorstep." | ☁ ♡

Old childhood fools | by @r66dus | "Drunk Daryl and y/n fooling around at the CDC" | 🔞

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Rick Grimes (TWD) ↴ Series ↴

The Claim | by @woman-of-balnain | Despite everything that’s going on, despite the world going to shit, despite wanting to stay on Hershel’s good side, despite his marriage falling apart, despite the way he knows he’s broken… despite it all, Rick can’t fight how badly he wants you. | 🔞✓

Undone in sorrow | by woman-of-balnain | "Finally coming face to face with Negan threatens the ties that bind your relationship with Rick together. After that first meeting, the two of you try to pick up the broken pieces of one another and become whole again." | ☁ 🔞

The nurse | by @itsgrimeytime | " Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search for shelter, you run into a familiar face" | ✎♡ ☁

Magnolia in May | by itsgrimeytime | "Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumours of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing." | ✎♡ ☁

Swear | by @daryandricky | "Shane tells reader that Rick didn't make it after the hospital was overrun, causing reader to travel with her former military brother to find somewhere safe." | ✎♡ ☁

Oneshots ↴

The life we could have had | by itsgrimeytime | "Rick knows you're gone, he does. He just keeps seeing you in everything" |

Everything I wanted | by @bloatedandalone04 | "The one where both you and rick are really bad at communicating your feelings." |

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Peter Parker (MCU) ↴ Oneshot ↴

Stacked against you (tasm)| by @delicate-dorothea | "Summary: You confront Spider-Man about his true identity, manila envelope style (literally)." |❈

No chance (tasm) | by @spider-stark | "Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man." |

Are you busy (tasm)| by @luveline | "You’re worried you don’t know how to kiss. your best friend Peter offers to teach you how among other things" | ♡

In the real world | by luveline | "You notice something about Spider-Man during a violent villain showdown, then you have to save his life."

White lies, red & blue tights (tasm) | by @t-lostinworlds | "You and Peter accidentally dressed up in the same costumes for Halloween. But he was not wearing a costume, it was his suit. You simply didn’t know that your favorite superhero and your boyfriend were the same. Who would’ve thought that seeing you in red and blue would be the breaking point of his lies" | ♡

Question (tom)| by @waitimcomingtoo | "Peter accidentally sends you mixed signals when he kisses you for the first time then stands you up" | ♡ ☁

It was fun, being 21 (tom)| by @loverwebs | "In which your boyfriend, Peter Parker, doesn't make it to your birthday dinner. So you walk home alone, only to run into the city's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man." | ♡ ☁

Series ↴

Infinitely you (all of them) | by spider-stark | "In every universe you are the one person Peter Parker will always love more than anything; unfortunately, he always realizes it too late. Now that they've been granted a second chance none of them are willing to miss out on finally making things right." | ☁ ♡ ✎|

The red string | by @never--doubt | "Once a year, everyone over a certain age can see the Red String of Fate that connects them to their soulmate. This year, Peter Parker is ready to find his soulmate, be with them. But the question is…is his soulmate ready?" |

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Steve Harrington (ST) ↴ Series ↴

Nail to the coffin | by @thetargaryenbride | "Y/N Byers wondered what would end up being the death of the small town she lived in. She never expected that the last nail on the coffin would be hammered by monsters from another dimension who would end up hunting down her friends and family one by one…" | ☁

You deserve each other | by @bimrwolf | "You and Steve have been together for five years. He's seemingly the perfect boyfriend, kisses on the cheek, knowing your orders at the restaurant. A great lover. Too bad you've had enough can't stand him." |

Oneshots ↴

The way you call me "Baby" | by @forevermoreharrington | "Steve’s been so patient with his girl but he just can’t take it anymore and neither can she" | 🔞

Love on the brain | by @vendettaparker | "You suffer from a bad case of pregnancy brain, leaving Steve to hover over you, much to your annoyance." | ♡

Almost Got It | by @mentalpolaroids | "She’s a barista at a coffee shop and always screws up Steve’s name on purpose" | ♡

Tainted Love | by @megxplryxb | ☁ ♡

Tornado warnings | by @harringtonwebs | "You and Steve had a very intense relationship now that you're up, hates to see you with someone new." |

I will always be right there | by @familyvideostevie | "you come first. you’re always my first choice." | ♡

Tell me again | by @appocalipse | "Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?" |

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Eddie Munson ↴ Oneshot ↴

Mechanic Eddie | by @whoahoney | "Reader’s shit box car pooped out on her once again, but at least the cute new mechanic seems eager to help." | ♡

Say you love me | by @marianita195 | "Based on the TikTok trend where girls don’t say “I love you” back to their boyfriends. " | ♡ ❈

Bookworm | by @corroded-hellfire | "Eddie has a thing for the local bookworm he just doesn't show it in the best way." | ☁ ♡

I'm Eddie - Eddie Munson | by @cosmal | "Your father finds Eddie in your room in the middle of something. eddie's a smug bastard." |

His glasses | by @pedgito | "Eddie in his glasses is just adorable" |

Grand Gesture | by appocalipse | "catching feelings for your best friend was never in your plans. when you start distancing yourself from him to protect your heart, eddie vows to do everything in his power to keep it forever." | ♡

Never Kissed | by cosmal | "eddies first date with you doesn't go how he'd planned and he hadn't even expected a kiss. still, you kiss him because you want to."

Series ↴

Worlds Apart | by @munsons-maiden | "You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected lifeline and turns your world upside down." | ☁ ♡

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Spencer Ried (CM) ↴ Oneshots ↴

Passive Agressive | by @ddejavvu | "Spencer’s stressed, and he takes it out on you. You’re sure it would have hurt far worse if he’d shouted, but instead, he broke you down bit by bit, his cold demeanour leaving you crying in your car." | ☁ ♡

Tactic Admissions | by @almostgenerallyalways | "Spencer lands in the hospital, and you have to come clean with yourself." | ☁ ♡

Days off with Spencer | by @justmyheart | ♡

Back to you | by @radiant-reid | "Spencer never thought she would love him the way he loves her, but he also never thought she would come back from the dead" | ☁ ♡

No hair for you, devil! | by @thyme-in-a-bubble |

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Aaron Hotchner (CM) ↴ Oneshots ↴

Self-Made | by @her-storybooks | "The BAU gets a visitor who tares through the bullpen and leaves everyone in puddles of mush and exploded hearts." | ♡

Good for him | by @ptersparkers | "Aaron loves you. he hopes his son loves you as much as he does." | ♡

Better than morphine | by her-storybooks | "Broken Bone. When Y/N gets her leg broken by an UnSub, she clings to Aaron to help dull the pain." | ☁ ♡

Spontaneous phenomena | by @luveline | "Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does." | ☁ ♡

Old man problems | by @hoe4hotchner | "Can you possibly write an imagine where Hotch pulls his back on a case, and the fem'reader offers to help him work it out in a friendly way because she was once a licensed massage therapist? Aaron of course is hesitant but gives in and allows it. But it gets heated" | ♡

Sweeter than fiction | By @hotchgirlsummer | "The bau decides to throw a small birthday party for Hotch. the reader is tasked with baking a cake, could this be their chance to express feelings?" |

A solitary mistake | by luveline | " You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped." |

I'm Sorry | by @14buddy22 | "Aarons been treating you differently lately" | ☁

New mom | by @marvelslut16 |

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Thomas Shelby (PB) ↴ Series ↴

Challenge of a name | by @gypsy-girl-08 | "Y/N is new to Birmingham, she works at an accountant firm. In this part, The Shelby’s arrive at her office to pick up their accounts, where she meets Thomas for the first time. She was in a long-term relationship and is recently single, having moved for a fresh start. Still recovering from the split, she has no intention of meeting anyone else."

Tachipen | by @zablife | "With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a 20 year old gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he employs her as a nanny. When tragedy strikes, he’s forced to confront the truth he has always known." |

Angst | by @murphyoclock | "Your and Tommy's argument gets out of hand when you provocatively try to make him jealous at his charity party." | ☁

Oneshots ↴

Peaky caps and razorblades | by @acewritesfics | "y/n helps Tommy sew his blades into his cap." | ♡

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

John Shelby (PB) ↴ Oneshots ↴

Just play along | by @runnning-outof-time | "When the person who (Y/N) feels has been following her gets a little too close for comfort, she makes a quick decision that involves John Shelby and some good acting...or maybe no acting at all." |

Red lipstick | by @kkurades | "You feel flattered when charlie shelby asks to marry you while your husband feels like he could strangle his nephew" |

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Alfie Solomon (PB) ↴ Oneshots

A very Shelby Christmas | by @cillmequick | "Alfie and his sassy little wife find themselves in the midst of the Shelby clan for Christmas because Alfie’s sister is in a relationship with Tommy." |

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Steddie (ST) ↴ Oneshots

Cookies and consoling | by @mangchai | "After a hard day, you return home to your boyfriends who want to cheer you up." | ♡

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Billy (ST) ↴ Oneshots ↴

Bartender Billy | by @billysbabyy |

♠ ♤ ♣ ♧

Arvin Russel (TDATT)↴ Oneshots ↴

Mockingbird | by waitimcomingtoo | "Arvin joins a book club just to see you but has to pretend to be your boyfriend to stay"

Notes: This post only contains all longer fics I will be creating a separate post for shorter fics/ i.e. headcanons, imagines, drabbles and scenarios that I love. The link to that will be here → The little things.

[jods-duplicitous-sluts]

Alecto the Ninth News

Part One

Alright friends. We are all chomping at the bit for any Alecto news at all. So here is what I've compiled from interviews, podcasts and AMAs. Sources are linked and screenshots have alt. text.

I've also included a little commentary or speculation on some points but ultimately that's not the focus of this collection.

Under the cut because I feel like it's going to get long.

So many screenshots, it turns out I'll have to split it into 3 posts.

If you enjoy this post please reblog so more people can see it!

Jump to part ■ Two of the post

Jump to part ■ Three of the post

I'm making this post on mobile, so forgive any wonkiness. Also tumblr ate this post once already *screams into the void*

• The book starts with Harrow in Hell. A reference to the Harrowing of Hell. Based on the presence of a porn mag I'd guess it's her own little river bubble inside Alecto but still just speculation.

Source: Tamsyn reads to us! Video with written description

• There is a wedding of some sort. Possibly other excuses to dress up the characters in formal ware. Some people have expressed concern that this was referencing the N- and C- wedding in Nona, but nope. We have confirmation that it is in book 4.

Source: Twitter

The next series of screenshots are all from the same tor.com interview: TM on Lyctorhood and Genderfuckery.

• This first one again confirms allusions to the harrowing of hell/ the decent of Christ. For those out of the loop the tldr:

The harrowing of hell is an Old English and Middle English term referring to the period of time between the Crucifixion of Jesus and his resurrection. In triumphant descent, Christ brought salvation to the souls held captive there since the beginning of the world.

A lot of speculation has gone on around about Harrow and her role in freeing the souls trapped in the river/reviving the river from whatever is poisoning it. [ *cough*JOD*cough*].

Also another reference towards formal outfits for the cast. So at least the wedding if not multiple formal functions.

• The question of Harrow and Gideon's souls will continue into Alecto. Looking forward to info on how enmeshed they've become and/or if they can be separated.

• I mean this quote is infamous by now. Which of our faves is it in reference to? All of them?

•I feel like we haven't seen enough about the differences between rebirth [a la Paul and Nona] vs Resurrection [Gideon/Harrow?! Someone else?] So while not a direct promise of anything in Alecto, I feel like the implication is there.

•The next two screenshots are about the Alecto cover, which is complete[the first from the above interview:]

•and the second is from an AMA from Aug. 5 2020

• The cover is definitely done since she was talking about it in 2020 and reaffirmed right before Nona’s release. I feel like they are waiting until they have a better idea of a publishing date before release. Maybe we'll get news in Q4 after the Nona paperback release and excitement dies down?

• From the same 2020 AMA. As this is pre-Nona, it could be possible that the heist mentioned deals with Gideon's body [either the Houses heisting it from BOE which happened off screen or the heist of Gideon's body from the barracks]. But I included it just in case that isn't what is being referenced.

• Same 2020 AMA: Again this could be covered in Nona as being what the John chapters were about, but also maybe not.

Source: TazMuir tumblr post from April 2020

• Another infamous quote at this point. Definitely feels like this is about the 'Third Most Toxic Polycule' of Harrow/Gideon/Ianthe and maybe Alecto is in this loop as well. With all the references to weddings and relationships I'm wondering who out of these four is marrying who...[maybe it's someone totally different, but my money is on someone in this situation]

Click to see part two!