#like babe you aren’t any better at naming things

[autistic-danieljackson]

John: Ford isn’t allowed to name anything.

Also John: These are our wraiths Bob and Steve.

[nitewingbabi]

↳ a pretty mouth             ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 warnings ⇢ drinking, sexting, knife play, fingering, oral (m receiving), swearing, orgasm denial, pinning, mentions of blood/killing, degrading,  ✉ taking requests first part  ▻  please respond…i showed you my cock

It had been days since any kind of attack or sign of ghostface. You almost believed he had disappeared, but it was still in the back of your mind. You never responded to his messages that he sent, and he never came to see you. Not that you really wanted him too. 

He was psycho. But there was something about his voice and not knowing who was behind that mask that just made your stomach flip the right way round. 

You had multiple missed phone calls from a private or blocked number. You had the upper hand for once.

➤ you can’t ignore me ➤ i’m not going to stop  ➤ you can try to shut me out, but i’ll find a way to get back in ➤ and when I do, i’m going to bury myself in that sweet pussy

His texts turned you on the more he sent them. All laced with dirty things you tried not to enjoy. 

Clearly you needed to give him something to make him chase you harder. Your parents would start to get suspicious of the large water bills coming through, and the last thing you wanted to give up was your shower head time every night. You felt possessed almost, turning yourself on as you dreamt of him climbing through your window of the night, holding a knife to your throat as he fucked you in ways you haven’t experienced before. 

Your legs began to rub to get friction, you needed to stop putting these thoughts in your head. He was a serial killer. The last thing you needed was to be fucking the town’s killer who had threatened your life countless times as well. 

When you finished school you went over to your friend’s house to get ready for a party that was happening over the weekend. All day you had multiple messages from him. Nothing new, that was until. 

🟪 Gfce23 sent you a snap 

The purple box told you everything you needed to know. It was video, with audio. You excused yourself from her room, heading into the bathroom. Opening the video it was once again his cock in his gloved hand, his body more in view this time for you to get a better look. Eyeing over his pale skin. 

“Ughnf—this is all for you.” Your clit throbbed at the sudden moaning that came from your phone. Walls tightening at his words. ‘This is all for you’. You licked your lips at the sight of the red tipped cock on your screen that thrusted into his leather glove. 

“F-f-fuck y/n.” Hearing him say your name mixed with a whimper as he pumped himself, stomach flexing every time he gasped and his movements picked up just a little more. You found yourself with your fingers dancing between your legs again, toying with yourself. The video ended there. No big finish for you. Your flustered state calmed down when you returned to reality and remembered where you were. 

“Jesus, fuck!” You hissed, running fingers through your hair as you tried to finish getting ready. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help lusting after him. Evening came finally and it was time to get drunk and enjoy your weekend. No school, no studying, no homework. Just alcohol and boys. Walking into the house it was already crazy, everyone dancing and rubbing themselves up against each other. 

A few mindless games of spin the bottle, truth or dare, and many more kids games. You found the keg, pouring yourself a drink before feeling a tap on your shoulder. It was the same guy whose been chasing after you since the first grade. 

“Hey y/n, long time no see. Feel like we never talk anymore babe.” You cringed at the pet name he gave you. You liked princess better anyway. 

“That’s because we aren’t even friends, I don’t talk to people who aren’t my friends.” You snipped back, walking away from the over-confident jock that didn’t want to take no for an answer it seemed. You swung your head back and downed the drink in the red solo cup. 

“Look, y/n. Just give me one chance and if you aren’t into it then I’ll leave you alone.” He chased you. But not in a ‘I’m gonna kill you’ way that you for some reason missed. You felt bad that you never did give him the time of day, and the alcohol was already going to your head. So what was one dance? You allowed him to grab your hand and take you to where everyone else was dancing, rolling your hips against him and allowing yourself to just relax. 

It was hard too when you were so sexually frustrated, after what felt like forever of dancing you found your friend. Letting her know you were leaving and going home, she was too busy dancing with a group of guys to care. You thought about walking home but chose to Uber instead. 

It was just up the road but in your tipsy state, in a short skirt and with a killer on the loose? What could go wrong? 

Your parents were once again gone for the night, using the time away to connect and get their marriage back on track. You didn’t turn on the lights, leaving the house dark and making your way upstairs to your room. Opening the door you didn’t know what you were expecting, but seeing it dark and just as you left it was disappointing. You walked over to your vanity, turning on the lamp and eyes looking into the reflective surface. 

Your eyes shot open and you sobered up at the sight of a white mask and dark cloak leaning against your clothing dresser. Your heart began to race and you stood up, turning around to face the masked figure who had been on your mind day and night. 

“Surprise princess.” His familiar voice had you buckling at the knees. You wanted to drop to them and suck the one thing he had been teasing you with the last few times you spoke. 

“Get on the bed. Now.” A sharp piercing feeling was against your leg, looking down you saw the knife he held in his hand against the flesh of your exposed thigh. Hard enough to indent your skin but not to actually pierce you. 

You nodded as you walked backwards, sitting on the soft surface and using your elbows to keep you elevated. Eyes looking into the dark black mesh that hid your mystery killer’s eyes. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see you dancing tonight princess. Open your legs.” You did as you were told and audibly gulped. You never saw ghost face at the party, you wondered where he could have been for him to be able to watch you in such a crowded house. Your thigh was met with a cold, metal against it. His knife slowly dragging up from your knee all the way to the crease where your pubic region met your leg. 

He looked down between your legs, eyeing off the cute short skirt and red panties you had on. The same ones he loved seeing you in when you first tried them on. He let out a low groan before swiftly flicking his wrist so his knife teared at the delicate lace. 

$60, down the drain. But you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him against you, touching, rubbing, sucking. Your breath hitched as he lowered himself, the mattress dipping on each side of you as he positioned himself between your legs and removed the lacy garment blocking his view. He tilted his head to the side, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he saw your creamy hole gaping. How he wanted to fill it. His leather covered fingers reached out and began to rub at your wet folds, moving the creamy arousal over your clit and labia. Teasing your core with soft, slow touched. You gasped as he dipped a finger into your cunt, a thick ring of cream engulfing his finger as he entered you. 

He began pumping, curling his finger each time to graze against your sensitive walls. You began letting out soft mewls at the sensations in the pit of your stomach. A sensation you had only been able to get from a shower head and your own touch. Without warning, he added another two fingers, thrusting harder and quicker now and watching your hips bucking to meet his every movement. 

“Look at you, this pink pussy is aching to be touched. I’ve barely started and you’re almost unravelling under my fingers. How many can you take before I have you begging for more?” He hissed as he added his thumb to your clit, watching you let out a squealed whimper and jerk your body under his touch. He chuckled darkly at your reactions, watching your fingers grab at the blanket comforter underneath you.

Your orgasm was building quickly and you wanted to let go. But ghostface, had other plans for you. Before you could even mutter a ‘I’m gonna cum’ he removed himself completely. Hearing you almost cry from pain at the loss of pleasure. 

“Oh no, you don’t get to cum yet princess.” You let out a whine at his words, squirming under his arms. He grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed and grinding his cock against your core. It was hard and only made you beg for more. 

“I want to hear you say you would’ve been honoured to have been killed by me. That it makes you wet and turned on that I could kill you right here, right now. And no one could stop me.” Excitement mixed with panic filled your stomach as you thought about how he would react if you didn’t say it. 

“It turns me on, that I’m so helpless and weak, that you could kill me right now and no one would help me…or stop you.” You had to admit to yourself sheepishly, that it was erotic. 

“Such a pretty princess, with a pretty pussy. And a pretty mouth. I think we should see how good it feels.” He pulled you to the floor with a loud thud, your wrists hurting from being held in place for so long. He undid the black cloak, the velcro ripping and revealing black jeans. His member pushing against the rough material just dying to get out. 

You decided to unbutton his jeans and pull his dick out. It was just as you remembered, pink, swollen and veiny. His tip ached to be touched, a drip of precum oozing out his slit and and running towards the edge of his head. Your eyes met his mask, his hand came to your head and pushed his member past your lip and into the warm embrace of your mouth. 

He moaned loudly for the first time, and it made you ache all over again. He thrusted his hips, fucking your throat feverishly and throwing his head back in pleasure. Muttering all kinds of vulgar words under his breath at the sensation he had been chasing since the first time he saw you. You gagged and coughed at the sharpness and uncomfortable feeling of him hitting the back of your throat. 

Spittle running down the corners of your lips and chin as he relentlessly unleashed his strength onto you. 

“Fucking take it princess, don’t forget how many people had to die for me to feel your pretty lips around my cock. Take it all. Fucking cock-slut.” His degrading words only sparked you to work his member harder, bobbing your heads in rhythm with him now and swirling your tongue around your mouth in no rhythm at all. He didn’t chase his orgasm, your pussy was his endgame. 

“On the bed and get on your hands and knees.” He growled, annoyed at himself for not reaching his own high. 

“What should I call you?” You asked innocently, big eyes batting at him as you stood to your feet and moved back onto the soft, plush mattress. 

“Call me your master.” You moved onto your hands and knees, feels his gloved hands curl around your ankles and pull your legs further apart, in response you also arched your back even more. 

“This is gonna be fun.” 

[moonstruckme]

babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!

can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?

if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀

Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)

cw: hospital

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words

The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters. 

He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you. 

He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it. 

“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?” 

You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.” 

“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?” 

“I—I don’t think so.” 

He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?” 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?” 

He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?” 

It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?” 

“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?” 

You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze. 

“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.” 

You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands. 

“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?” 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound. 

“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.” 

“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 

He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.” 

Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly. 

His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”

[fullofgutsndopamine]

i’m half doomed (and you’re semi sweet)

tw: mention of fighting, flashback of fighting,hasan is kind of a dick, angst if you squint, unspecific fighting, mention of break up

more here

there’s loud giggling coming from deep in the house.

honestly you didn’t realize how much you missed it until just now, just realizing how lacking it was, how quiet the house was without hasan’s loud footsteps and constant bumping around.

“Aurora-“

you call gently, just as hasan rounds the corner, his hair a million different ways and a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Speak of the devil.”

you say lowly, hoping that the only person who heard it was hasan and not his twin that is two steps behind him, constantly colliding with the back of his legs.

“Mama,” she buries her face into your legs until you kneel down, moving the mop of curly hair out of her eyes when she speaks again. “Can Papa stay?”

it’s a question, not a demand.

“Oh,” hasan says quickly, panic evident in his eyes. this is definitely not something he was prepared for, “baby-“

“Baby,” you coo, the spoon resting on the oven, “We have an early morning tomorrow-“

“and-“ hasan’s knees crack as he kneels on the tile of the kitchen, his hands a claw as he tickles her belly, “someone has to get some good sleep because someone has a birthday tomorrow. I wonder who that could be-“

she giggles, her hands go into hasan’s hair as she gently pulls at it and he continues to tease her:

“who’s birthday is it tomorrow? Hm, I can not for the life of me remember-“

she giggles, climbs onto his knee and pulls at the corner of his eyes, pulls at the corner of his lips until he’s smiling:

“it’s mine, Papa!”

he gasps:

“it’s yours?!” he shakes his head, “absolutely not. you’re my baby you aren’t allowed to get older-“

you have to turn away. it’s too sweet, reminds you of when things were briefly okay-when hasan was home and didn’t have dark bags under his eyes, when he would actually come around and help-those long nights out when he came home reeking of cigarettes and in stained clothes, how your voice cracked as you begged to not be a single parent (or at least, what felt like one)

hasan’s eyes flash to yours as he stands, Aurora thrown over his shoulder. his voice drops as he leans in, and you try to ignore how you can feel his hot breath against your ear:

“i’ll leave soon. i’m sorry-“

suddenly meek and mild, not the hasan who made himself known, had no problem with that-

“Papa,” Aurora sticks her head out from behind his back, “Stay for supper? it’s just me and mama-“

his eyes snap to yours. his, wide with worry and like a deer in headlights, trying to not fuck up this co parent thing.

“Baby-“

“Mama,” Aurora pleads, “Please?”

her eyes are wide and sad and they suddenly look very much like hasan’s

“Well,” your eyes shoot to wilbur’s, “If Papa doesn’t have any plans-“

Aurora doesn’t hear that part. hears exclusively the yes that she got and squeals as hasan tries to steady her on his shoulder.

“hope you weren’t busy.” you smirk. you’re teasing, obviously, as you stir the pasta on the stove.

“Go wash your hands, babe.” hasan says gently, sets her on the floor and watches as she runs towards the restroom, still squeaking.

“Nah.” He shrugs, leaning over the stove now, finally answering. “i had a frozen pizza with my name on it but honestly-“

his hand dips into the pan on the stove, where there’s some sauce the chicken lays in. his finger connects, drags through it and brings it to his mouth with a happy sigh before you can smack his hand away:

“no, no.” he finally says, wipes his finger on his worn jeans, “this was much better, anyways.”

“what, freezer burned pizza doesn’t cut it these days?” you tease back against your better judgment, “you’ve changed.”

He laughs and the side of his eyes crinkle and the bags under his eyes are more evident and you try to shake it off before you can over think it.

“Look-“

Aurora comes back into the kitchen, all but stomping as she gets to the table:

“Mama,” She pulls her chair back, “Papa can sit next to me. I’ll get him a plate!”

You turn the flame off the stove and reach over, grabbing a plate and handing it off to Aurora, who tangled her hand into her father’s and drags him to the table with his plate.

dinner isn’t even as uncomfortable as you imagined. you imagined him clearing his throat, desperately looking for something to say, or having to take an emergency phone call to try and make himself leave early-

instead, he listens contently to every word aurora says. gasps at the appropriate times when she tells stories, knows when to gently remind her to focus on trying to eat; he falls back into the routine you two had like no time had passed. it was comforting, in a way, but knew the familiar ache would come back when he left

instead, you ignore it for your daughter. try to push it down and make it a problem for tonight-already knowing sleep won’t be on the agenda anyways, so this is something you can overthink again and again until your forced to pace in your kitchen by the light of the stove-

“I mean,” hasan clears his throat, “it depends on what your mama thinks-“

“Hm?”

you try to not make it obvious you weren’t listening, lost in your own thoughts.

“I said,” Aurora huffs, “Papa should stay and read me a bedtime story! for my birthday, mama!”

hasan looks sad in his seat. like it hit him that he’s doomed to a lifetime of day before or day after, always belated birthdays with his daughter, always an excuse or a reason-

“babe-“

you can tell by the way hasan speaks he’s setting it up to gently let her down, to try and slowly pull the dagger out of her back

“that sounds like a good idea to me,” you stay instead, “I think you have a new book Papa would like too-“

hasan’s head snaps up so quick at your voice you’re briefly afraid he’s going to break his own neck.

“M-me?”

his finger is hard against his own chest, his voice borders on shock or disgusted, you aren’t sure which one yet-

“Put your plate in the sink, Rory.” you say gently instead, “And then you can show papa your book.”

she squeals as she hops off the chair, drops the plate and goes back to hasan, where her fingers tangled into his and she pulls him away.

enough time has passed and the house is quiet enough you can hear the sinks steady stream of water fall from the faucet, a leak you can never remember to fix, that you finally figure you should check to see why it’s so quiet.

your hands play with the bottom of the old shirt you wear, suddenly aware of the old clothing and how dirty and stained it is-how for a while, hasan would be dressed up when he got home, when things were briefly okay-white button ups untucked out of jeans after a long shift, the buttons undone on the sleeve and how they were crookedly shoved up to his elbows-

a deep breath, insisting the worst-a toddler meltdown, hasan frustrated and near tears or him just gone, somehow escaped through the front door as you devoured the silence of a dinner you haven’t had in years

instead as you nudgethe bright yellow door open, you find hasan-

the bed is far too small for him; his feet dangle off the edge of them and you know his neck and back are going to hurt the next day now-but instead of a meltdown he lays on his back in the too small bed and on his chest, a little head curled under his chin with the blanket drawn up to her own neck, eyes closed and fast asleep but hasan still gently flips through the book, his voice low and steady as he reads gently in her ear-

“you’ve always had some special talent for being able to put her right to sleep.”

he laughs, closes the book and sets it on the nightstand where a picture of the three of them at a pumpkin patch years ago lays-Aurora on your hip, hasan’s face pressed against yours and silly smiles on your faces, cheeks pink from the wind blowing-

“i’ve always said i was boring,” he sighs, ruffles Aurora’s hair gently, “Guess that confirms it.”

“come on,” you roll your eyes, “I have coffee for the road for you. Just how you like it.”

he hesitates for a second. a careful kiss to the crown of auroras head, before he starts the gentle dance of untangling himself from her. limbs appears slowly; an arm, a leg, a torso-Aurora never stirs; a heavy sleeper like her father as he ducks out of the room.

in the kitchen you carefully pour black coffee into a to go cup, making sure the temperature is right before putting half a packet of splenda (the yellow package only, the one you keep far in the back of the cabinet for him, for these rare visits, in hopes he’ll come back) before securing the lid and handing it over.

hasan takes a sip, savors it as he groans and closes his eyes, really enjoying every sip.

“I needed that, princess,” he sighs, “thank you.”

princess hangs in the air and you try to not let it overpower you. try to not let him see the pink that climbs up your face with the old familiar name

i miss you, you think. the bed is too big without you. instead it comes out; “Any plans for the night?”

he takes another long sip of coffee before answering: “nah.” and he leaves it at that.

you snort, “i have a pack of 25 multi colored balloons that need to be blown up if you’re bored.”

you’re teasing. it’s obvious, at least you think. previous birthdays where hasan would be poured over the scratched up table in the front room, slowly, carefully, blowing up balloons until he collapsed back in the seat always insists this is the last year he would be doing this. you tried to bite back the sting when you think that time actually was the last time.

“Yeah,” hasan nods, locks his lips: “sure, i’ll do those real quick-“

“hasan,” you scoff, “you don’t have to-“

he throws back the last of the coffee, shakes his head: “it’s the least i can do. always your least favorite part. i’ll be quick, and then i’ll leave, i promise.”

out of habit when he says promise your pinky goes in the air and as if he’s never left, hasn’t stopped doing it, his pinky immediately wraps around yours, shakes once, falls

“where the usually are, yeah?”

hasan asks but doesn’t give you time to answer before he digs through the drawer, comes out with his victory, the small plastic bag of balloons.

hasan sits on the couch, gently blows them up, acts like he doesn’t hate it as you carefully unfold the banner of letters that read out happy birthday in various pastel colors as you struggle you hang it over the picture window.

“why don’t you let me do this?”

you feel hasan’s hand on the small of your back before you can even register his voice.

“remember,” he said gently, his voice low like he’s afraid he’s overdoing it, “before-you’d wrap the presents and i’d hang the banner-“

“because i could never reach the top-“

you both finish at the same time.

your hand is still in the air as you turn to face him: “and you always insisted on playing the beatles version of happy birthday as we did it. again and again-“

“i know,” he smiles, “and you’d always swear you couldn’t sleep the next three nights because it was stuck in your head.”

“that’s right.” you’re finally laughing, leaving out how you haven’t listened to that song in years now, “again and again-“

gently, he grabs the side of the banner out of your hands and has a hand on your hip as he gently supervisors you walking off the ladder before he takes your spot.

when he turns around you’re back and he knows from the old box in your hands immediately what’s next:

“the usual place?” he says gently, instead of the old comments he’d usually spit out; ‘again?’ or ‘this is so fucking stupid. she doesn’t want these pictures out’

you pass him the first photo, the frame half broken and super glued back together,permanent fingerprint stains on it that you can’t get out no matter how long you scrub or soak it-

“she was so fucking tiny.”

if you didn’t doubt yourself, you’d think hasan’s voice cracked, bordered on a whimper as his fingers danced over the silhouette of her in the frame. the day you brought her back from the hospital; hasan’s clothes are wrinkled and the bags under his eyes are big, even though his eyes are downcast and he’s looking at the tiny pink bundle of blankets in his hand with such a proud smile

“you were so afraid you were going to drop her,” you finally say as you set the final photo out, “i’m surprised i got you to take that picture.”

he carefully sets it on the table like he’s afraid it’ll break, but you realize it’s angled towards him as he sits back in the chair and brings a balloon to his mouth

“you can help me bake the cake,” you say gently as you sit on the armrest of what use to be his chair, “if you aren’t busy.”

your hand rests on his shoulder, plays with the tip of his collared shirt that’s wrinkled:

“might as well stay.” you try again. “p-please. Aurora”you shake your head, “aurora would be thrilled to see you.” you get out.

stay you think let’s get this right i can get this right

he nods slowly: “i’m here.”

and you recognize the weight in it, how you waited for this, as his hand drops into yours and follows you to the kitchen.

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Ghost

ghost!mingi x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: mingi's dead so

Content warnings: names (mi amor, good girl), oral (f rec), fingering, size kink, praise, hair pulling, mingi's actually obsessed and in love

Summary: Your neighborhood friendly ghost can't stand not having you.

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: happy halloween babes!! i wrote this after a lovely discussion with rae and i've been dying to share it. and what better time to share than halloween? anyways i hope you enjoy and if you'd like to be tagged in future stories, feel free to comment, message, or send an ask! love you x

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

You’d known for a while that your house was haunted. You often felt like you were being watched and sometimes things moved on their own. Doors would open and close by themselves and the tv would turn on in the middle of the night. It didn’t scare you anymore given how long you’d lived there. You often spoke to the ghost as if it were a friend that you’d known for ages.

But when you awoke to feeling watched yet again, something was off. It didn’t feel like the usual presence. There was someone physically in the room with you. You laid as still as possible and kept your breathing even, paralyzed with fear and afraid to open your eyes to find a murderer in your room.

“I know you’re awake.” A deep voice resonated around the room. You slowly opened your eyes but no one was there. Not at the foot of your bed, not near your closet.

“Who’s there?” You called, sitting up and searching the room frantically. Slowly, in the corner of the room, a man materialized before your eyes. “Who are you?” You scrambled to the corner where your bed was pushed against the wall and tried to make yourself smaller.

“I won’t hurt you.” He said simply as he moved closer. “You know I won’t. I haven’t in all the time you’ve lived here.”

“How do you know how long I've lived here?” You asked cautiously, shrinking away from him when he reached the edge of the bed. You could see hints of scarring reaching up his neck, towards his jaw. They were in a pattern like nothing you’d ever seen before.

“Because I live here too.” He looked down with a sad smile and shook his head. “Or I used to.” He elaborated when you didn’t respond. “I’m the previous owner. Name’s Mingi.” He held out his hand and you noticed more of the beautiful scars traveling up his arm.

“But that’s-” You shook your head and refused to touch him, panic filling your body. “That’s impossible.” The previous owner was dead. You’d heard the story from the neighbors when you moved in.

“How come you can accept my presence when you can’t see me?” He tilted his head as his hand dropped. “You aren’t phased by my being here when I'm moving things to get your attention. Why are you so nervous now?”

“That was…that was you?” The unease began to dissipate but you still refused to move any closer to him.

“Of course it was me. This was my house.” Something about his expression changed. It became darker, more possessive. “And you became mine too when you moved in.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked quietly.

“I’ve been watching over you since day one.” He leaned down, crawling into your personal space, and you tried to lean away but the wall prevented you from shrinking further away. “I know everything about you. I know your favorite foods, I know you prefer cats over dogs. I know you have to brush your teeth before you put your shirt on after a shower so the little sprinkles of toothpaste don’t get on the material.” His eyes dipped to your lips for a moment, heating before meeting your hesitant gaze once more. “I know what you look like in your most intimate moments. As far as I'm concerned, you’re mine.” You gasped softly at the implications and he looked back at your lips, this time refusing to look away. “I’ve wanted you from the start. Wanted to know the feel of your body under my hands. I want to be the one to give you mind-numbing pleasure.” Finally he met your gaze again and found your eyes already darkening. “Let me give you that. Just tonight.”

“I don’t even know you.” You whispered, heat pooling between your legs at the confession and his subsequent request.

“You do. You gave me a silly little nickname and you talk to me every day.”

“You’re a ghost!” You whisper yelled.

“A ghost who spent every day from the moment you moved in trying to learn how to manifest just to be with you.” He leaned in closer and you reeled back, your head hitting the wall. He immediately reached behind you and cupped the back of your head, soothing over the area you’d just hit. You expected to feel body heat or maybe even an icy touch that indicated lack of life. Instead, he was the same temperature as the air around you, his cool fingers grazing over the area to make sure you weren’t injured. “Careful, mi amor. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“What are you doing to me?” You asked defeatedly, certain that some supernatural power was responsible for swaying you.

“Taking care of you.” He gently pulled you away from the wall and you suddenly realized just how small you were in comparison to him. The thought sent a thrill through your body. “Will you let me?”

Slowly, you nodded. He felt too familiar for you to truly be afraid. You were genuinely terrified at first but the moment he started listing things about you, you felt at ease. He felt like an old lover.

“Thank you.” He seemed so affected by your agreeing, his voice already rough with desire. “Thank you.” He repeated as he pulled you closer, eyes fixed on your lips. He urged you to lay back as he pulled the sheets away and you shivered as cool air caressed your body.

It felt surreal to be kissed by the ghost who’d haunted you for years. It was electrifying in a way you hadn’t expected. “Wanted to kiss you for so long…” He mumbled against your lips before moving lower. Cool lips trailed down to your throat and you shivered as a hand came to rest on your hip.

“Can’t believe I'm finally touching you. Never felt something so fucking perfect. Haven’t felt anything in so long.” Already he sounded dazed as he wasted no time in moving down the bed. He tugged your panties off and tossed them aside, immediately kissing your thighs as he pushed them apart to accommodate him. “So fucking perfect.” He marveled as he stared at your pussy.

You wanted to close your legs as you became flustered but he was just strong enough to keep you from clamming up on him. And then his lips met your cunt in a kiss so soft, so delicate that your head spun, and you couldn’t imagine pushing him away.

He groaned at the way you relaxed under his touch and did it again, this time firmer. You bit your lip at the touch and reached a hand down to tangle in his platinum tresses. It was so strange to touch someone who had no body heat. You could feel the press of his hands, the way his tongue traced over your folds, but it was all just as cool as the room around you.

The man was a genius with his tongue. It was clear he’d had plenty of practice when he was still alive and jealousy burned at your insides. Envy. You found it a bit unfair that you were only just getting a chance with someone so skilled and he was a literal ghost. The universe must hate you.

You bit your lip to stifle a soft moan when he sucked on your clit and he glanced up at you before shaking his head. “Nuh uh. I wanna hear. I know how pretty you sound. Don’t hide now.” Your cheeks heated but you slowly nodded. “Good girl.” Then he resumed his actions.

He moved slowly at first, tongue laving over your folds almost reverentially. You couldn’t stop yourself from tugging at his hair, guiding him where you wanted him. He groaned against you and the vibrations sent a thrill through your body.

“M-Mingi- I need more-” You whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening. He growled against you in response as he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer, his mouth pressing firmer against you. His tongue pressed into you and you let out a weak moan as heat flooded your body. “Oh god-”

You were soaked by now, helpless to the things he was doing to you. You couldn’t dream of stifling your sounds when his nose bumped against your clit and he noticed. He took great joy in repeating his actions, tongue delving into you as his nose repeatedly bumped your clit.

Then he pulled away and you whined in displeasure. He simply chuckled as he brought his fingers to your pussy, rubbing circles around your clit with his knuckles. “Relax, mi amor. I won’t stop until you cum for me. I need it just as much as you do.”

“Then stop teasing.” You pouted and he laughed again, kissing your thigh as he continued to toy with you. “Please? I wanna cum.” You pleaded quietly.

Finally, he slid a long finger into you and curled it as his lips latched back onto your clit. You couldn’t help but rock your hips a bit, grinding against his face. He knew exactly what you liked and you wondered how many times he’d watched you get off on your own or with a random hookup.

Tension settled in the pit of your stomach and you bit your lip hard, moaning freely as you got closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs began to tremble on either side of his head as he added a second finger and scissored them. He was letting out starved little grunts as he devoured you and finally you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mingi ‘m gonna cum- oh-” You’d barely gotten the warning out when liquid bliss flooded your veins. Your back arched off the bed and you let out a series of loud, desperate moans, rocking against his face as you came undone.

He didn’t stop until he was certain you were finished and when he finally did, you couldn’t hide your disappointment. He laughed softly at this and shook his head. “Calm down, mi amor. I’m not done with you yet.” You nodded slightly as he moved up the bed, his hand slipping under the front of your shirt and resting against your stomach. “Can I take this off? Wanna see every inch of your beautiful skin.”

You sat up just enough for him to remove the offending material and watched his face as your skin came into view. His expression changed almost imperceptibly but you noticed the adoration in his eyes as he took you in. “You’re staring.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. No one had ever looked at you like that.

“I can’t help it.” He flashed you a small smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your left breast. “I don’t think I'll ever get over how perfect you are.”

“‘M not perfect…” Your cheeks heated as you refused his claim and he shook his head.

“You are. Every inch of you, head to toe, is perfect. Stunning.” He emphasized his words with another kiss to your breast before moving up to capture your lips. “The most amazingly beautiful woman I've ever seen in all my time.” Then his lips finally met yours and you tentatively reached out to rest your hands on his shoulders.

You could taste yourself on his lips and when his tongue delved into your mouth, your head spun. Carefully, you reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it, eager to feel more of him. He pulled back then, hesitant to allow you to see him shirtless. You stopped and looked at him with concern. “Is…is this okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m just…it’s just not a pretty sight.” He explained quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“Is it…this?” You asked softly, one hand moving to the scars on his arm. He nodded and you leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know what happened but I think it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Actually…it’s my first time seeing them like this.” He explained. “The last time I saw them…” He shook his head and smiled sadly. “Nevermind that.” He sat back and pulled his shirt off and you gasped quietly.

The entire right side of his body was covered in branching scars. They wrapped around his side and reached toward the left side of his chest. They traveled up his neck and down his arm. They were absolutely gorgeous and you couldn’t help but reach out to tentatively run your fingers over them, eyes wide as you took him in.

“Mingi, they’re beautiful…” You whispered, barely getting the words out before he was kissing you again, this time fiercely. More passionately. Something told you the story was traumatic for him and that your acceptance was unlocking something within him.

You fumbled with his belt as he kissed you breathless. As soon as the buckle was undone, you unbuttoned his jeans and began to push them down. The two of you were almost frenzied now, fighting against his clothes as you tried to free his cock.

Before you could, he grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “Flip over.” He ordered and you’d be damned if you disobeyed a command in a tone so arousing. “Good girl.” He praised as he finally rid himself of the rest of his pesky clothing, watching you turn your ass up for him. You whimpered at the name and he leaned over you, effectively pinning you to the bed. “You like that, mi amor? You like being called a good girl?”

“Fucking love it.” You groaned, pressing your ass back against him. “But then, you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“You’re catching on.” He mocked as he lined up. “Tell me, good girl, do you think you can take my cock?”

You nodded instantly. “I need it.” His response was to sheath himself inside you in one fluid motion, leaving you feeling impossibly full. “Big-” You gasped.

“Shit-” He cursed under his breath, forehead resting against your shoulder. “You feel even better than I ever could’ve imagined, mi amor.”

You could only moan in response as he rocked his hips. He filled you perfectly and you couldn’t help but clench around him. How unfair that you were only just getting him.

Mingi set a torturously slow pace, rocking and grinding into you. You let out a weak moan with every thrust, pushing back to meet him each time. His lips pressed against your shoulder blade and you let out a soft sigh. “So fucking small and pretty for me.” He whispered against your skin and you clenched involuntarily, realizing for the second time how much larger he was.

“More.” You whispered, fingers digging into the sheets to ground yourself.

“You want more?” You nodded quickly and he gave a sharp thrust. “Like this?”

“Just like that.” You nodded again and he sat up, changing the angle of his thrusts.

“Just like this?” He was mocking your desperation as he sped up. Then he pulled out and you whined in disapproval. “Ass up, mi amor.” The name was making you impossibly wetter and you complied with no hesitation.

“Love when you call me that.”

“Yeah? You like when I call you mine?” You whimpered out a small ‘uh huh’ and he slid back in, hands squeezing your ass. “Good. You’re all mine. Been mine from the start. You understand?”

“Yes.” He set a rough pace in response and you all but cried out your approval. “Oh fuck- just like that, Mingi- oh-”

“You know how jealous I've been of all the guys you’ve brought home? Of your pillow? Getting all the action while I was left to watch…it was torture.” He sounded truly tormented as he spoke but then his voice changed. “But now I’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy until all you know is my name.” He growled and you couldn’t help but clench around him.

His hips slammed against you at an inhuman speed, filling you insanely perfectly. You’d never felt so much pleasure in your life and you were certain no other man would ever compare to him. If you ever slept with another man after this. That was still up for debate.

You let out a soft cry as he tangled a hand in your hair and pulled your head back. The tingle of pain made arousal flood your veins and you couldn’t help the way you pushed your ass further back to meet his thrusts. “Mingi-” You whimpered his name, hands curling into fists in the sheets.

“You’re so good, mi amor. Feel so fuckin’ good for me.” He groaned, his voice a low vibration that went straight to your pussy. “You like it when I talk like that?”

“Fucking love it.” You gasped, nodding despite the grip he had on your hair. “Your voice is so sexy.” You admitted and he grunted at the praise.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Keep going.” You urged. He slapped your ass with his free hand and your back bowed.

“Bend that back. Be a good girl.” He spoke through gritted teeth as he pushed your back down, urging you to arch so he could get a better angle. “There we go.”

He hit your sweet spot dead on and you let out a cry of delight. “There!” He copied his previous action and your toes curled. “Just like that, Mingi, oh my god- yes-”

“Sound so fuckin’ pretty moaning my name. Wanted to hear it for so long.” He groaned, his head tipping back briefly. Then his free hand was reaching around you to toy with your clit. “Keep going, mi amor. Wanna hear you scream my name when you cum.” He murmured in your ear and you nodded furiously, your thighs already trembling.

“Fuck- ‘m so close, Mingi. Can I cum? I need it so bad.” You begged, flames licking at your spine. You were about to tip over the edge. One word from him and you’d let go.

“Cum all over my cock then. Let go for me.” He commanded, fingers still circling your clit as he slammed into you.

That was all it took. You fell apart in a matter of seconds, legs shaking and eyes rolling back as wave after wave of pleasure crashed down on you. It was hands down the best orgasm of your life and as you came down from your high, you once again had the nagging thought that you should’ve gotten to experience this before he came to you as a ghost.

You let out a weak noise as he let go, cumming inside you. The sound he made had your walls tightening around him, milking everything he had. “Mingi…” You whined, lowering your head to the pillows as your body threatened to collapse.

“That was so good.” He panted as he pulled out slowly, collapsing beside you a moment later. “You were so good.” He turned his head to look at you and you immediately leaned in for a kiss. He obliged, licking into your mouth as soon as you parted for him. He was smiling brightly when you slowly pulled away. “Do you know how long I've wanted this? How long I’ve wanted to be with you? It was even better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

“That was…” You flipped over onto your back and took a deep breath, a grin creeping onto your face. “No one’s ever made me cum so hard in my life. Not even myself.” You looked over at him and he smirked. Suddenly, seeing his smug smile, you sobered up.

You wished you’d known him in life, wished you had been able to to experience this when he was still among the living. Though there was something terribly romantic about his finding a way to be with you in spite of everything.

As you mourned what could’ve been, he reached a hand out and cupped your cheek. “What are you thinking?” He whispered. You shook your head and he asked again. “You can tell me.”

“I just…feel like it’s too late. That it’s unfair I’m only just meeting you and won’t ever get to truly experience everything you had to offer in life. It’s upsetting to think about.” You admitted as you avoided his eyes.

“It is.” He agreed with a soft sigh. “I wish I hadn’t died so young. I wish I could take you on proper dates and give you all the things you deserve. It’s unfair that we can’t enjoy life together like every other couple.”

“Yeah.” You whispered, your throat tight with emotion. You simply looked down with misty eyes and he pulled you against his cool chest, fingers carding through your hair.

“We’ll just have to make do with the hand we’ve been dealt. Things like nights in and me making your dinner. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it? We can figure it out.” You nodded in agreement and he kissed the top of your head. “We can do this.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[headkiss]

I feel like I’m in withdrawal from ur Hotch stories!! I would love some sort of blurb w protective Hotch and BAU reader if ur taking requests for him!! Any scenario I honestly don’t even care I just love hurt/comfort w my guy

babe!!! not withdrawal!!!! thank u so much for requesting <3 i hope u like it | 0.7k fluff, teeny mention of blood

Hotch tries to stay calm on the job. He has to, really, to be as successful as he is. It’s hard with the things he sees, the things he hears. Even harder when you’re about to go and do something dangerous when he’s not there to help.

You’re the only one at the scene right now, and even though he’s trying to convince you not to, you’re about to go inside and catch the guy.

“We aren’t far,” he tells you.

“I know,” there’s a shout in the background, and his heart sinks ‘cause he knows what that means. “I gotta go in.”

Hotch utters your last name, concern, something like desperation buried under his firm tone.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, and then you’re hanging up.

“Garcia,” Hotch knows she’s on the other line, and he knows she’ll find him a shortcut without instruction because she’s great at her job and even better at knowing what people need.

“I’m on it,” she tells him, and then she’s rattling off turns to make through alleys to get to you quicker.

The unknown is the worst part, Hotch thinks. If he was there, at least he could be sure that you’re alright. He doesn’t doubt your skills, not for a second, but when it comes to you, he doesn’t seem to think so rationally. All he feels is the pounding in his chest that won’t slow until he knows you’re okay.

By the time he makes it, there are cop cars outside, flashes of blue and red paint the dark street where everyone’s parked. His tires screech to a stop, and he leaves the car parked and running when he gets out. There’s a cop pushing the guy into the car, another nodding at Hotch as he walks by.

And finally, finally there’s you, sitting in the back of an ambulance with a bandage on your forehead.

He all but runs over, his hands finding your jaw to tilt your face up towards him in a way that certainly isn’t professional but he isn’t really worried about that right now. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t even need stitches,” you tell him.

“You’re bleeding.”

You sort of melt at his worry, at the almost unnoticeable shine in his eyes that you only see because you’re looking so closely. Hotch doesn’t have to say it with words, because it’s written all over him, the delicate hold he has on your jaw, the way his thumb draws a small pattern over your skin. Back and forth, back and forth. He cares about you.

“I’m fine, Hotch,” you say again, because he’s still looking at the bandage on your head with a furrow in his brows.

“You should have waited.” He doesn’t mean it, but he still says it. He knows this is the job, he knows it was the right call, but he should’ve been there.

“You would’ve done the same thing.”

“I know.”

His eyes still won’t meet yours, so you grab one of his wrists in your hand, squeezing it once, twice, three times.

“Aaron,” your voice saying his name is enough, Hotch’s eyes flick down and lock on yours, “I’m okay. No stitches, no concussion, just a little cut, alright?”

His fingers are still on your skin, calluses trailing down your neck until his hands are on your shoulders. There’s a trail of warmth that follows his touch, your eyes fluttering, your breath slowing.

He nods, “you’re okay.” It’s so quiet that he’s saying it to himself, even though you catch it. He repeats it, “you’re okay.”

Neither of you are thinking about the fact that you’re in public, that the team is probably watching you both and sharing looks with each other because they can see the feelings you and Hotch both have for each other clear as day. They are profilers, after all.

Hotch is only focused on you, and you’re focused on him and his hands and the sort of affection that’s rare from him, but speaks enough volumes to last a long, long time.

“I got the guy, didn’t I?” You say, trying to lighten the mood despite the circumstances.

“You did good,” he tells you, and the praise has something soaring in your chest.

You shrug, shoulders moving under his hands. “I learned from the best.”

And when you’re back on the plane, your head resting on Aaron’s shoulder where you’d fallen asleep, he doesn’t care one bit about the smirks he’s getting from the team.

He simply shakes his head at them, fighting a smile as he turns back to his paperwork.

[ushys]

⸻ miles morales as your boyfriend (earth 1610)

a/n: omfg the chokehold this gif has on me- anyway you guys do not understand how much love i have for this sweet boy 🥹 deserves the world idc idc.

- fluff, no nsfw bc he is a minor, afab reader (lmk if you guys want gn, male)

MILES LOVES drawing you. you’re perfect in his eyes and he could draw only you for all of eternity and he wouldn’t complain at all. everything about you was beautiful to him and he made sure he captured every beautiful detail you have on to his drawings.

MILES is the type to send you cute (your favorite animal) videos on tiktok because he knows how much you love em and all he wants to do is to make you happy.

WILL introduce you to his family and is happy when he finds out how easily you and his parents got along. you got along with his mom so well that sometimes you’d visit their house and mostly talk ‘chisme’ with her the entire time (he gets jealous-)

AFTER an argument, he stops by your window and drops you off flowers with a little cute note apologizing. he doesn’t know if you would want to see him at that moment so he gives you time to cool off and give you some space. he replies immediately if you were to call or text him ready to talk again due to how much he hates wasting time not talking to you.

HE likes showing you off to anyone. his friends? yes. his family? yes. strangers on the street? yes. he can’t help it if he’s madly in love.

WHEN he revealed to you that he was spider-man, he was scared that you were going to be mad at him for keeping this a secret from him for a very long time. he thought that you were going to think that he didn’t “trust” you but when you were actually ecstatic finding out instead of upset, his worries all vanished as he smiled and hugged you.

WILL have a whole playlist dedicated to you. he likes to listen to that playlist when you aren’t with him, yk so he could daydream.

IS completely oblivious when you’re jealous. if you catch him talking to another girl who is clearly into him, you’d be upset in which miles would ask you about but you would just mumble “it’s nothing”. hearing this, miles thinks back to the entire morning wondering if he did something to make you upset. when you finally tell him, he quickly reassures you and says “i don’t feel anything towards any other girl who isn’t you. i love you and only you ma.”

IF it’s late at night and you can’t fall asleep, miles would come over with his spider-man suit on and picks you up, and swings to different buildings. then, you guys would land on a rooftop with a clear and beautiful view of the city at night and by the edge you guys would sit down, while miles pulls you in close to him, head on his shoulder, admiring the sight of the skyline. “it’s so pretty” you say. “not as pretty as you cariño”

MILES used to think that pet names were lowk cringey, but when he started dating you, everything changed. now, he calls you “mi amor” “baby” “my love” “cariño” “preciosa” “babe”

HE can not flirt if he wanted to flirt on purpose. he gets awkward and shy like 🫣🫣 this one time before you guys started dating, he wanted to make a move on you by saying “hey y/n, a-are you fr-from tennessee? cause you’re the 1 f-for me- wait no that’s not right, wait what was it again? i u-uh never mind.” and he scurried off before you could even say anything. “the fuck-“

WHEN you guys go on the train, he would pull out his airpods and give you one of them while you guys listen to one of his playlists (ahem the playlist he made for you but shh you don’t know that.)

IF you don’t do graffiti art, miles will take you to one of his secret locations and teach you how to draw certain things and praises you for trying your best. once you get better at it, you guys start going to his secret location more often and you guys just spend hours spray painting.

LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling with you. literally one of his favorite things to do with you. he loves just having you in his arms knowing you are safe and sound with him. your soft and warm skin making him wanting to fall asleep because of how comforting it feels to just have you there with him. what he loves the most is having your arms around him holding him close while his head lays on your chest, listening in to your heartbeat knowing you really are there with him and that you are his and he is yours.

TAKES random and silly pictures of you just to send them later to you after you guys hung out and texts you saying “this one is my favorite.”

HAS a picture of you on his lock screen and his home screen.

that’s all for today, im tired and imma go and day dream about this boy :p

[dimplyowl]

😩 one of the main things I see about Izzy and why he’s an innocent little lamb who has done nothing wrong is that he’s got a lot of internalized homophobia going on, as well as issues with toxic masculinity. And yeah, OFMD is all about taking those toxic societal expectations and telling them to shove themselves up their asses. And I think having a character who has those internalized feelings and who holds onto them until being proven that they’re wrong is an interesting character arc. Growth is a great thing! We love to see it!

The problem comes when people use those characteristics as excuses for any of izzys bad behaviors, as if they give him a free pass to do whatever he wants to do. But that’s not how these things work. The problem I have with Izzy’s character arc in s2 is that he doesn’t do anything to make reparations until his deathbed apology to Ed. He just kind of…continues to be there, ignoring Ed, letting the crew extend kindness to him and still not really engaging until Calypso’s Birthday.

You know who has done some really shitty things and does actually work toward making reparations? Ed. And that’s another thing I see a lot of Izzy fans say: that gb people give Ed a free pass for everything he did because of his childhood and his trauma and his self hatred and broken heart. But babes, when we talk about these issues, you’re misunderstanding why we’re talking about them. I obviously can’t speak for all Ed fans, but the majority of us aren’t listing these issues as excuses, we’re naming them as reasons for his behavior. So we can understand why he feels the way he feels and did the things he did.

I am fully aware that he did some really shitty things to people who care about him and who he cares about. I acknowledge that. I also know why he did them. And knowing why doesn’t make it okay. It helps me understand him more, and to know that he wasn’t doing them because he enjoyed them and, most importantly, that they’re things he regrets doing. That’s obvious throughout the entirety of eps4-6, in his hesitance to return to the ship, in agreeing to wear a burlap sack and allowing Lucius to push him over the ship, in taking time to actually listen to fang about his own experiences during the kraken era. It’s part of the entire reason they have a party, it’s part of turning poison into positivity. Ed doesn’t have great apology skills. His “apology” speech was definitely lacking as far as our modern standards are concerned. That’s fine. Those aren’t natural skills to have, they’re learned, and he never really had the opportunity to learn them. But you can see that he wants to, and he’s trying and he’s learning, and that’s the most important thing.

Izzy doesn’t do that shit. In season 1 he uses his position of power to bully the crew, to go against Ed’s orders (his captains orders; that’s essentially mutiny right there); he loses and turns his captain and a ship full of queer and poc to the cops; he then becomes captain and it takes less than a day for the crew to mutiny on him because he’s a fucking asshole and no one wants to work for him; and to top it all off, he tells his boss—his friend, supposedly, his depressed and already established to be suicidal friend—that he would be better off dead than be like he is.

Where are his attempts at reparation? Where does he turn around and say “yeah calling the cops on you was fucking horrible and I shouldn’t have done it” or “I shouldn’t have said those things when you were already struggling” or “I’m sorry for taking advantage of my power and using it to bully and abuse my employees and another captain’s crew.”? He doesn’t do any of that. He doesn’t even try.

Internalized homophobia doesn’t make intimidating your gay subordinate or calling your friend a “namby pamby in a silk dressing gown” okay. Toxic masculinity doesn’t make repeatedly insulting someone for having traditionally feminine traits and interests okay. Doing those kinds of things can never be okay. But recognizing these as faults and actively working to improve yourself and grow and apologize to the people you’ve hurt and try to make things better does make it more likely for the people who care about you to forgive you.

[becauseimanicequeen]

Why in the world would you like toxic characters? Why are you so proud of that? What is it even to be proud of? What's wrong with you?

Well, my dear Anon. If you only knew how many times I've asked myself those very same questions…

And the answers always come down to: It’s fiction.

And even though fiction is a vital part of life (just like any other art form) and you can learn a lot from it (you have no idea how many toxic people I’ve been able to avoid, before they even found out my name, thanks to my love for toxic characters and seeing their red flags), fiction is also just fiction.

The characters aren’t real, even though they can seem like it. Just because I love a character that's toxic as fuck doesn't mean I would condone real people who behave that way.

Also, I’m not hurting anyone with my obsession with toxic characters. It’s not like I'm forcing anyone to think like me (and for the love of all things holy, don't do that!).

Besides having a healthy obsession with the toxic characters I love, I’m not very emotional (for lack of a better word) about what I watch. I can be intrigued by toxic characters without either excusing their behavior and actions or hating them (because there’s enough hate in the world for me to do that shit). I can watch taboo topics and other shit that most people find triggering and not be triggered (even though I see the taboo topics for what they are). I can watch problematic stuff and see beyond it to what’s really being said (even though I see the problematic stuff for what it is).

But that’s just me. And I would never force my perspectives on anyone else because I know the majority isn’t like me (which is a good thing, btw).

So, if you don’t vibe with my shit, block me. I don’t mind.

Trust me. I’ll survive. You’ll survive. The world won’t fall apart. We’ll both be okay. Just block me.

Because I will keep loving my favorite toxic fatherfuckers. I won't excuse their behavior and actions. But I will love them.

And the only one who can stop me is ME. But I don’t want to because I love all the shades of toxic bitches and their red flags.

Like Boston from Only Friends.

And Todd from Not Me.

And Chalothon from The Sign.

And Ray from Only Friends.

And So from House of Stars.

And Yai from Big Dragon.

And Way from Pit Babe.

And Boeing from Only Friends.

And let's not forget Vegas from KinnPorsche!

And Yoden Ryoji from Dangerous Drugs of Sex.

And Yong Jie from HIStory 4: Close to You.

And Rio from The Novelist.

And Ritsu from To the End of the World With You.

And definitely Ming from My Stand-In!

I love them all because I have issues. But so do all of them, which is precisely why I love them.

Thank you for your ask.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Please may I request risky sex with Eddie, having to be quick and quiet because anyone could walk in at any time

18+

“You gonna stay quiet?”

You nodded, lips pressed together as you stared up at the boy, doe eyed and itching with impatience. Eddie grinned, smug and sweet, clicking his tongue and squinting at you.

“I don’t believe you,” he whispered, pressing his fingers back into you - two, thick and slick with you - hooking them upwards until he made your jaw fall slack. “Needy baby can’t keep her sounds in, can you? You’re always so noisy for me.”

You blew out a breath and let your head fall back, tipped to the mirror, shoulders pressed to the cold tiles and Eddie laughed, soft and quiet. He pumped his fingers slowly, dragging them in and out of your cunt until you whimpered. You grabbed at his wrist, nails biting at his skin, eyes fluttering shut as if that would help you handle it better.

“Nuhuh, c’mon, sweet thing,” Eddie cooed, taunting. “Eyes open, wanna see ‘em when you come, yeah? You’re gonna come aren’t you? Can feel this pretty pussy clenchin’ on me, shit.”

You let out a garbled sound at his words, filthy and going straight to your cheeks, warming the skin there, lips parting as you sucked in a much needed breath. The bathroom felt smaller than before, nothing but the boy filling the space. You nodded, whispered out his name in a hush and let your sight fall on the locked door. The party still raged outside and you vaguely heard your name being called, Robin’s voice a blur under the music and mix of conversations through each room.

Eddie tsked, grinning wider still. He was enjoying this too much, hard dick straining against the denim of his jeans, tip of his tongue pressed to his bottom lip. “People know we’re gone, baby. You gonna make them wait, gonna make them wonder?”

“Eddie,” you whined, too loud and you pouted, pulling at his, your hands in his curls until he relented, thumb swiping over your clit in harsh circles, the way you liked it. “Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, m’close.”

“You gonna say please?”

You pinched his shoulder, pout falling on your lips more dramatically but your jaw fell open when the boy upped his efforts. Eddie moved fully against the sink you sat on, standing between your spread legs, coaxing them wider still, lace underwear stretching on your thighs until you heard the stitching rip. He kept his fingers pushed into you, a steady crook of his fingers, rubbing in the right spot. You felt so fucking full.

“Teddy!” You fell into him, eyes closed, face pressed to the crook of his neck to breathe him in, lips on his pulse point and it jumped in excitement when you tightened around his digits.

“That’s the spot, huh, babe? Right there?” Eddie cooed in your ear, lips pressed against your cheek, pushing open mouthed kisses to anywhere he could reach; your jaw, your ear, your temple. “That little spot that gets you goin’ all sweet for me, isn’t it? Callin’ me Teddy like you don’t know it makes me wanna fuckin’ ruin you, Christ.”

That’s all it took, cunt clenching down on him, nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders and biceps as you came, whining high and too loud. Eddie pushed you back, guiding you back against the tiles so he could watch you fall apart for him, his free hand catching your chin so he could push his thumb to your lips. You opened for him, letting the digit catch the sob you wanted to let out.

“Shhh, shhh, there you go, bite it, baby, I got you,” Eddie soothed, his thumb pressing down on the flat of your tongue, hissing in pleasure when your teeth grazed at his knuckle. “You’re fuckin’ incredible, shit.”

…

[little-diable]

Oh, professor - modern!Tommy Shelby (smut)

Another piece written with lovely @zablife – it's always great fun with you, babe. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: What happens when you spend a mind-blowing night with a man you thought you'd never see again? What happens when that man turns up at your class as one of your students? Will you be able to let him and your shared memories go or will he find a way to keep you close?

Warnings: 18+, lots of smut, piv, power play, age gap, professor x student relationship

Pairing: Professor!fem!reader x student!Tommy Shelby (6k words)

moodboard by @zablife

The room was dark, well almost, no light flooded through the bedroom besides the light of the streetlamps breaking through the dark curtains, casting a bright shadow. A shadow you probably would have paid more attention to if it weren’t for the position you had been willingly forced into, cheek pressed to a soft pillow, hips raised off the mattress.

Your moans echoed through his bedroom, loud enough to wake any nearby neighbours, forcing heat to rise in their systems at the almost pornographic sounds. The two of you were a mess of tangled limbs, of sweaty bodies searching one another’s closeness for the third time that night.

Your mind was too hazy to remember how you had managed to end up in the apartment of a stranger, a man you had flirted with from the second you had run into one another at your go-to bar, drawing you away from your group of friends. Perhaps it had been the fault of his bright eyes, piercing pupils that had burned holes into your warm skin; perhaps it had been the fault of the charming accent that had shot tingles down your spine; but perhaps it had simply been the fault of the way he had stared at you, marvelled even, as if you were the finest creation known to humankind.

Even though you weren’t one for going home with men you barely knew, hell, you barely left your home at all, fully focused on the courses you were teaching, and on the papers you had to grade, this man had something different to him, something you didn’t want to let go of again. You weren’t one for distractions, and kept your focus on your work, the one thing you loved wholeheartedly. But there had been something about the man who was at least twenty years older than you, hair graced by greyish specks that had drawn your attention to him from the first moment.

“Look at you, close to cumming again, aren’t you, love?” His raspy voice filled the bedroom, no longer could you reply, at least not verbally, opting to moan his name with your eyes squeezed shut. Tommy had his hand buried in your hair, keeping your cheek pressed to the pillow as he fucked you ruthlessly, already knowing your body better than any ex-boyfriend after years of being together.

“Talk to me, let me hear that pretty voice of yours.” You struggled to fight through the hazy fog of lust his touch forced to spread out through your system, heart chasing uneven beats with your hands fisting the covers all too tightly. A few more moans clawed through you, mind racing to try and pierce some words together, anything, to give the man what he was asking of you.

“Fuck, Tommy, ‘m so close, so so close.” An almost gleeful chuckle left the man who momentarily tightened his grip on your waist, forcing his cock even deeper into your tightness. Your walls had a tight grip on him, unable to hold on for much longer. Without even having to ask him to, Tommy’s hand wandered from your waist to your pulsing overstimulated bundle, circling it with his lips pulled into a devilish smirk.

With his name leaving your swollen lips like a prayer spoken on a Sunday morning, you came on his cock, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. But he didn’t stop fucking you, fully focused on his own high now that yours had been pushed through you once again, allowing him to use your body. The gritty sounds leaving him left you grinning proudly, face painted by a blissful expression.

He came a few moments after you, pulling out to get rid of yet another condom before he found his way back to you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, “I think it’s finally time for a bath, eh? Don’t want you passing out on me before we get you cleaned up.”

��…

You hurried past the row of old oaks, eyes squinting slightly at the bright sunshine flashing sharply through the branches. The clacking of your heels against the stone added to the pounding in your head and you could only hope it would cease before class began. As you entered through the heavy double doors, you shifted the strap of your bag and rummaged inside for the paracetamol you stashed in case of emergency.

The building was already bustling with activity, the noise of overlapping conversations echoing off the domed ceiling. Preoccupied by your continuing search for something to stop the pain behind your eyes, you collided with someone’s shoulder. As your head jerked up in surprise, you found your colleague, Charlotte, wobbling slightly in an attempt to balance her coffee cup. Reaching out to help her, you quickly apologized. “Sorry, my fault!”

“It’s alright, I should know better than to wander the halls this late in the morning. It’s bloody chaos,” she chuckled.

Furrowing her brow at you she asked, “What are you doing out here? You’re always two hours early the first day!”

Her look of concern soon turned to impish delight when she noticed the medicine bottle in your hand. Her eyebrow arched as she leaned in conspiratorially, “Took my advice and had some fun for a change?”

You hesitated for a moment before a grin began tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I might have,” you teased.

A little gasp escaped her lips as she exclaimed, “I knew it!”

Biting your lip at the memory of the evening before, you added, “He was incredible, Char. Even if I never see him again, it was…really something.”

“Tell me everything,” she continued excitedly, nearly tripping over her own feet to keep with you as you resumed your brisk walk.

You shook your head gently, trying to retain a shred of professionalism. “Not within earshot of the roomful of students I’ll be teaching for the next four months,” you laughed as you came to a stop outside the lecture hall.

“Alright, but I want to hear about this later!” She called after you as you gave the door a nudge with your shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ll have lunch,” you promised, turning your attention toward the sea of faces awaiting you.

Normally you would have arrived before anyone else, papers stacked neatly and laptop open and waiting. Your first year you even practiced a few greetings, nervous that your voice might tremble in a decided lack of authority. As the youngest professor on the faculty, you still felt the roots of anxiety burrowing inside your stomach at times, especially as you awaited the inevitable test from one entitled little shit or another. You found yourself having to work twice as hard as your colleagues to be taken seriously.

Tossing your bag onto a chair, you tried not to think of the few who might cause you problems and focus on the scores of others who were there to learn. Ready to get to work, you quickly began twisting your hair into a top knot and mentally reviewed what you’d like to cover first. When you were ready, you walked to the front of the room and introduced yourself in the prepared speech you were accustomed to, including all pertinent information to the class. You watched as heads bowed and arms shifted occasionally, the gentle whisper of keys tapping out notes. When you’d finished, you asked for questions, receiving only the shuffle of feet and a few scattered coughs in reply.

In the moment of stillness, you found your thoughts wandering with the particles of dust dancing in the light. Suddenly your mind was as clouded as your field of vision, imagining the trickle of sweat between your breasts, slick against Tommy’s chest as you glided over him. You swallowed hard imagining his strong hands trailing your skin as you felt goosebumps begin to prickle the back of your neck and forearms. Chin raised to his sapphire blue eyes, you swore you could see him smiling back at you now with that same satisfied grin he wore when you fell apart beneath him.

“Professor Y/l/n?” A girl in the front row called to you, snapping you back to reality. You attempted to focus on her question, but your eyes darted to a place beyond her right shoulder uncooperatively. The profile and hair were so familiar, it was distracting. Then as the students in front parted slightly, you inhaled sharply. Taken aback, you stuttered out the last few words of your sentence in embarrassingly inarticulate speech, too overcome by the sight of the man you’d been daydreaming about moments earlier. You hadn’t imagined the intensity of his blue eyes. Tommy was actually here!

You struggled to comprehend it. Was he a student? He hadn’t mentioned university studies. Could he be following you? That’s ridiculous, you chided yourself. If he was a student, you certainly wouldn’t be able to have sex with him again. Oh, but he looked amazing in that blue jumper that matched his eyes. There were far too many thoughts to process at once and the headache from before was only intensifying. You quickly dismissed class and gathered your things, slipping between the throng of people exiting.

…..

Y/n, I tried to find you after class and lost you in the crowd. You weren’t in your office so I assumed this was the best way to contact you. Can I see you again? Tommy Shelby

You closed the email-app, biting the inside of your cheek. He’d clearly been thinking of you as much as you were thinking of him, but you still weren’t sure how to proceed considering how little you knew about him. So you did what any curious woman in your position would do. You googled him.

Sitting cross-legged on the sofa with a glass of wine in one hand and your phone in the other, you scrolled until you’d learned as much about Thomas Michael Shelby as possible. The results were impressive, to say the least, from his countless business ventures to his myriad of titles. Without realizing, you’d lost an hour to image searches alone of him in tuxedos at fancy galas thrown by influential figures. He was a man who could have anything or anyone he wanted. Brow furrowed in concentration, you wondered what he was doing in your advanced seminar on Dante’s work. There was only one way to find out.

Mr. Shelby, I apologize you were unable to reach me on the first day, but as my syllabus states, office hours do not begin until next week. I’m available to meet Monday if you have any questions. Prof Y/l/n

……

Your eyes glanced at the wall clock one last time before giving up all hope Tommy would appear. Not that you blamed him for losing interest. Your email was overly formal and you winced every time you read it, but it had to remain professional.

Reluctantly rising from your desk, you stretched and gave a long, disappointed sigh. “Doesn’t matter” you mumbled as you locked the office door and turned to leave. The moment your shoulder swiveled left, you collided into the toned planes of a man’s chest and strong arms instinctively caged yours to steady you.

“Mr. Shelby,” you exclaimed with more than a bit of shock tinging your voice.

“Y/n,” he hummed, bending down to retrieve the bag you dropped. Extending it toward you, he quirked an eyebrow as he asked, “May I ask why it’s Mr. Shelby now? Didn’t know you fancied a bit of role-play or am I forgetting something about our evening together?” An amused smirk painted his handsome features at his little joke, eyes dancing with mischief.

You accepted your bag, cheeks growing hot as you retorted, “I could ask you the same of you, hitting on your teacher.” Then you added cautiously, “I should warn you that it’s against the rules for me to see you now that you’re enrolled in my class.” Beginning your walk toward the stairs, you slowed your gait as Tommy huffed out a laugh.

“Ah, so that’s it. I’ve been a naughty pupil,” he exclaimed. Capturing your elbow in a gentle grasp he turned you to face him as he pondered seductively, “What will you do with me now?”

“Can I ask you a question?” you prodded, considering him with a serious expression. Tommy’s face soon mirrored yours as he realized you weren’t playing his game and his hand dropped from your arm. “Why did you seek me out here? I did a bit of research on you, you know,” you revealed. “You have to admit it looks a bit odd, a king of import/export taking a class in poetry?” you wondered aloud.

Tommy closed the gap between you, an earnest look taking hold as he spoke. “Beauty awakens the soul to act,” he said, holding your gaze with those insufferably clear blue eyes.

“You’re here so the beauty of the written word should uplift you?” you asked doubtfully, tilting your head at him.

His large hand cupped your face as he drew nearer. “I think we both know the real reason I’m here,” he whispered, leaning toward you until you could feel the heat of his breath against your cheek. “I want you,” he said with the certainty of a man who always has the coin land in his favor.

You pressed your palms against his broad chest, heart pounding wildly at the closeness of him. “I could get into a lot of trouble for this,” you reminded him breathlessly.

“Only if we get caught,” he countered, hand slipping down your side to grasp your hip firmly. “Don’t you want to live a little?” he prodded with a squeeze.

Your head was spinning as you fought the overwhelming desire threatening to consume you. “Yes…and I want you too…but…,” you protested half heartedly.

“Then that’s all I need to hear,” he said as his hand dipped beneath your skirt to push your underwear aside. You gasped at the feeling of the cool air and the lazy swipe of his finger through your wet folds.

“You’re soaking,” he hummed against your open mouth with satisfaction, plunging two thick fingers into your inviting warmth. He quickly swallowed your wanton moan with a deep kiss and you melted into him without hesitation, any thought of further denial dying on your lips. He licked into your mouth with ravenous appetite, fighting you for dominance in a way that made his cock twitch. As your hips began rutting against his palm for the pleasure you knew he could provide, he praised your eagerness. “Take what you need,” he urged against the shell of your ear.

But the clicking of heels and the echo of voices descending the stairs soon drew your attention. As they came nearer to your position, Tommy maneuvered you into the shadows of the stairwell away from their view and kept you pressed impossibly close.

For a moment you thought you were safe, Tommy returning to his ministrations. Your heart thundered in your chest at the thrill of him rolling your swollen clit beneath his thumb while he nipped and sucked at your exposed throat. It was a dangerous move, however, a guttural cry escaping your lips despite your attempt to suppress it.

Suddenly a man’s voice asked, “Did you hear something?”

You stopped breathing momentarily as you pressed your face into Tommy’s neck, his digits still pressed tantalizingly against your g-spot.

“I don’t think so, Howard,” a woman replied, hand sliding down the bannister so close to your head you could smell her perfume.

You gulped harshly as Tommy withdrew from you, leaving you clenching around nothing. He brought his slick fingers to his mouth and you panted at the sight of him relishing the taste of you. With a wink, he disappeared quickly out the side door as you attempted to make yourself presentable again.

Moments later your colleagues found you patting your hair down and adjusting your bag in frenzied, awkwardness.

“Professor Y/l/n, we were just talking about the upcoming welcome dinner,” Dr. Baker said with a warm smile. He prattled on, oblivious to your eyes darting over his shoulder to watch Tommy sauntering across the courtyard. Turning to glance back at you, you noticed he was still lazily sucking his fingers. The obvious delight in the curl of his sinful lips caused your thighs to clench and your clit to throb, the overwhelming need to finish what you began frustrating you beyond belief. Your skin felt as though it had been set ablaze, thighs rubbing together unconsciously as you watched him fade from view.

“…fingers,” Dr. Baker finished, looking at you inquisitively and you realized you’d missed what came before that. Had he seen Tommy’s lewd display as well?

“Excuse me?” you asked, paranoia chilling the warmth in your cheeks like a bucket of ice water dumped over your head.

“I said my wife will bring her signature dessert, ladyfingers,” he repeated.

“Yes, of course! I’m looking forward to it very much,” you agreed with an overly enthusiastic smile. Then you excused yourself home.

……

Ever since that moment with Tommy, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from wrecking your head about the what ifs racing through your mind. Even though your night with Tommy had been something you had never experienced before, you couldn’t risk losing your position within the university, especially not for a situation like this. But no matter how hard you tried to shake these thoughts, forcing yourself to focus on the welcome dinner you were about to join, the thoughts of him seemed to follow you around like a shadow sewn to your boots.

Familiar faces smiled at you as you stepped into the room, hand stroking down the soft fabric of your dress to try and collect yourself, putting on your best smile. This evening was all about making an impression, all about crossing paths with those that were important for your career, hoping to leave them impressed about your determination, your work drive.

“(Y/n)! There you are.” Charlotte’s voice left you smiling, a sincere smile that wasn’t as fake as the one you had worn just a minute ago. She pulled you in for a short hug before you greeted some other colleagues standing close. “Did you see Lizzie? The things I’d do for the man she brought as her date are unspeakable.”

The words Charlotte whispered towards you left you chuckling, at least as your gaze kept combing through the crowd of colleagues, trying to find Lizzie’s face. You had never been the biggest fan of her, not of her personality, not of her way of teaching, trying to keep a friendly though respected distance to her. But your laugh got stuck in your throat as your eyes found the piercing ones of her date – Tommy fucking Shelby.

Charlotte must have picked up on the way you grew tense, mistaking it for interest in the handsome man making his way towards your small group, arm wrapped around Lizzie’s waist. Your breath hitched in your chest the second the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against your front like a tidal wave set on drowning you, a scent that instantly reminded you of the way he had fucked you in his bedroom, how he had marked you as if you were only his to love.

“May I introduce you to my date, Tommy Shelby.” Lizzie kept on introducing Tommy to the other colleagues, blissfully unaware of the way his gaze kept wandering back to you, sporting an unmistakable smirk on his lips. Heat rose to your face as Lizzie finally turned towards you, about to speak your name, though interrupted by the murmur of your name rolling off Tommy’s tongue.

“Professor Y/l/n, it’s good to see you again.” His hand found yours, pressing a featherlight kiss to the back of your hand, a gesture that left you breathless; a gesture that left Lizzie visibly seething.

“Mister Shelby.” You nodded at him, suddenly feeling all too uncomfortable with all eyes focusing on you, wondering where you knew the man from. Just for the sake of dethroning Lizzie, not wanting to endure the arrogant smile she wore, you debated telling them of your escapades with the man – yet these were all too intimate, not daring to leave your painted lips. “Mister Shelby joined my class for this semester.”

Your eyes wandered through your small group, explaining the short interaction to the others, trying not to spare the grin Charlotte now wore any of your attention. You’d deal with her later, letting her in on the reasons for the tension growing between you, Tommy, and Lizzie. Before either one could speak another sentence, you were interrupted by the voice of the dean hallowing through the room.

“May I ask for your attention? It’s so good to see so many of you here tonight!!” The woman kept speaking, staring at the crowd with a smile so bright you feared for the way the corners of her mouth would start burning soon. But the second you felt a hand on the small of your back, you shifted your attention away from her, eyes finding Tommy’s, even in the darkness you were now engulfed by.

“Meet me in the hallway in thirty minutes.”

……

“Come,” Tommy took your hand, eyes set ahead with his smirk still playing on his lips. For just a second you allowed yourself to take him in, to look at the lips you had kissed a while ago, already aching for his taste once again. Fuck you had it deep for the man, unable to tear yourself away, unable to shake the sensations he had pushed through your body.

“Where are we going?” Your whispers were left unanswered, Tommy opened a door for you, pushing you into the dark room before anybody else could see the two of you. He pressed you against the now closed door, lips finding yours in the dark. The moan that clawed through you was raspy, vibrating with lust, with a special kind of pleasure only he could make you feel.

“Fuck, wait.” You pushed him away, hands firmly placed on his chest, trying not to spare the feeling of his tense muscles beneath your fingers a thought. “What about Lizzie, your date?”

“Oh, love, I’m not interested in Lizzie, you know that.” The chuckles that rumbled through Tommy left you panting, not understanding why he was toying with Lizzie and with you. "I came because I knew I’d find you here, I needed to see you again.”

You didn’t get the chance to reply, shut up by his lips finding yours. The feeling of his fingers on your body was enough to distract you from your thoughts, keeping quiet, not wanting to interrupt the sensation once again. A fire was burning inside you, a fire so strong you feared Tommy would melt you, burned to the ground by his wandering hands and the smirk that could make the devil blush.

“I want to make you scream my name, let them hear who you belong to.” Tommy’s words left you moaning, eyes fluttering close as he kissed his way down your throat, hands disappearing beneath your dress. You were pulled closer, feeling his clothed, hardening cock against your damp panties. The pants that ripped through you left Tommy smirking against your skin, all too aware of the power he held over you. “But we wouldn’t want to risk your reputation.”

Tommy let go of you, feeling as if cold water had just been dumped over your burning body, instantly missing his touch. For a few seconds, he stared at you in the darkness before he dipped his head down once again, lips ghosting over yours, “Call me on your way home, and I’ll come to find you like I always will.”

“Fuck, Tommy, wait.” You couldn’t let him go, it felt as if you were burning, your body on fire from just a few simple touches. With your arms finding their way around his neck, you pulled him close once again. The kiss you pressed against his lips left your heart racing in excitement, moaning as Tommy moved you back. Within seconds you found yourself placed on top of a table, thighs pushed open by his wandering hands.

“You’re such a greedy girl, look at you, weeping for my touch, for my cock. We’ll have to be quick.” Another moan tore through you, eyes fluttering close as his warm breath clashed against your cunt. His tongue brushed your arousal-covered folds, groaning at the taste he had been thinking of ever since he had fucked you, a taste he thought of as Tommy fucked his hand to the thought of you at any given chance.

“Oh fuck, your mouth is deadly.” Tommy chuckled against your skin, eyes flickering up to your pleasure-drunken features. Two fingers were forced into your tightness, curling them against the spot that left you breathless. He knew exactly how to push you to your limits, knew exactly how to make you see the stars he had shown to you the last time he had fucked you ruthlessly.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet, love, I’ll never get enough of you.” Tommy was a starving man, a man who would claim you at any given chance. And you were his salvation, the rescue he had long given up on, the lifeline that would stop him from drowning in the darkness he had befriended years ago.

Your clit pulsed against his warm tongue, knowing that you’d cum any moment now. With your eyes set on Tommy, you covered your mouth, knowing that you couldn’t be silent, not when he fucked you with his fingers; not when he ate you out like no other man ever had. And as your head rolled back, eyes squeezed shut, Tommy pulled you even closer, pushing the awaited high through your trembling body.

Tommy kept fucking you with his fingers, smirking against your bundle of nerves as he watched you fall apart, only pulling away as a shaky exhale left you. Wordlessly, you pulled him in for one last kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“I’ll see you later, love, be a good girl and I’ll reward you later.”

……

An hour later, you fell out of the lift with a little giggle on your lips, Tommy’s strong arms catching you before you tripped. “Do have the entire floor?” you asked in amazement.

“The building actually,” he replied with no attempt at modesty. There hadn’t been much small talk during your first visit or you might have learned that. However, you did remember the incredible view, courtesy of the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city.

The lights gleamed back at you in a glittering array of colors that seemed endless, much like the vast expanse of the room where you now stood.

“Well, you might have more real estate, but I certainly have more books,” you noted with a firm nod. Spinning in a tight circle, you looked at the near empty shelves around you. “Where do you keep yours?”

Tommy smirked at you as he came closer, hooking an arm around your waist as he answered your question with one of his own. “Would you like to see?”

You bit your lip and nodded in reply, feeling his hand wander down your backside with a gentle squeeze. Kicking off your heels, your feet glided along the polished hardwood to stop in the doorway of a home office. The room was much more inviting with tall shelves full of leather back volumes and photos.

“Take a look over there, professor.” He pointed over your shoulder, directing your gaze to a desk in the corner. Your eyebrows went up in shock as you approached and saw the assigned reading for your class open to the correct page.

As your fingers traced the familiar words, you felt Tommy’s warm breath upon your neck, “Do I get a gold star?” he asked, brushing the hair from your shoulder to replace it with a kiss.

“I’m impressed you know what we’re studying this week,” you admitted. Quirking your eyebrow at him playfully, you added, “But have you actually read it?”

You felt him smirk against your skin as he admitted, “I was hoping you’d give me a private lesson.”

Slightly distracted by the featherlight kisses he placed along the delicate skin from your ear to your throat. And even more so when they turned to gentle nips, you huffed out a little laugh. “Is that so?"

His only reply was the warmth of his palms, skating along the sides of your body. Fingers massaging deep, insistent circles into your hipbones and raising your dress up to your waist until he had revealed your ass to the cool air.

“I think you could be persuaded,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. The sight of dark lace coming into view caused his dick to twitch and he couldn’t resist reaching out to cup your warm heat, stroking along the gusset of your underwear. An impish grin spread across your face as you captured his hand suddenly.

“Alright then. My class, my rules,” you explained. Handing him the book, you instructed him to begin reading without stopping. Tommy’s brow furrowed slightly before noticing your hands had slipped to his belt, the jingle of the metal and the zip of his trousers the only sounds in the room.

“Well?” you prodded as you proceeded to undress him from the waist down. “Let me hear you,” you demanded with a peck to his lips.

Biting his lip as though he were trying to decide, Tommy complied the moment you sank to your knees. The first sentence boomed into the quiet space confidently as you reached for his already erect cock. However, his voice hitched slightly when your warm breath met his skin, even more so when your tongue darted out to lick the first glistening drops of precum.

“Oh, fuck…” he muttered, as you began licking up one side and down the other in slow, even strokes of your tongue.

“I don’t remember that part,” you joked as your hand closed over his length to begin pumping him gently. Tongue laving over him in tantalizing patterns, his voice grew shaky, a near whisper remaining of his commanding tone.

By the time you took him into your throat, he could barely think through the fog of pleasure. His head felt full of cotton and the words suddenly uncooperative when he attempted to recite them.

Releasing him with a wet pop, you placed a few open mouth kisses along his length to slow his desire and return his attention to the task. Then you asked sweetly, “Will you read a bit more?”

“M not sure,” he confessed with a shudder, composure slipping further as your thumb brushed over his sensitive tip.

“Go on,” you urged, fondling his balls and scratching lightly with your fingernails. Sucking on his reddened tip, you looked up through your lashes at him and swore you saw him suppress a whimper, but he attempted to continue.

Although he tried to control it, the clenching of his muscular thighs beneath your palm soon gave away his need for release and you set a devilish pace you knew he couldn’t resist. Releasing small staccato breaths, his hips jerked forward, hand clutching your hair in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

Tommy only managed two more words before his resolve snapped, pulling you from the floor and turning you to face the desk in one swift movement. You moaned as his large palm pressed against your back, bending you over the desk to rip your thong away. He kicked your legs apart to give himself greater access before entering you with one deep thrust.

A grunt of relief passed his lips as he held himself there to feel you pulse around him, savoring the tight grip of your pussy. The moment didn’t last long, the overwhelming urge to pound into you overtaking him. He quickly wound your hair in his hand before tugging you back to meet his first thrusts of raw need and your hands shot out for something to grasp hold of.

Gripping the edges of the desk tightly, you could hear the squelching sounds as Tommy drove into you relentlessly. Your own desperate pants were drowned out by the noise of skin slapping harshly as your body began to bounce back against him. The brutal pace he set lit a fire in your belly as he arrowed himself into you perfectly, hitting that sweet spot deep within.

Every drag of his cock against your sensitive walls pushing you to the brink, your body keening and arching in response. Tommy eventually slowed to watch you unravel. The pride in his voice evident as he mumbled lustfully, “Taking me so well.”

He reached forward to fondle the globe of your breast, rolling your pert nipple in his fingers and pinching to hear your sweet little gasps. The delicious combination sent sparks of pleasure zinging through your body, overwhelming your senses until you were flooded with euphoria. 

Thighs beginning to shake from aftershocks, your hips dug further into the wooden desk as you collapsed forward in utter exhaustion. Tommy soon followed, hips stuttering against your backside before he pulled out. You whimpered at the loss of him just as you felt the warm spurts of his release against your ass. If not for Tommy cleaning you off and carrying you to bed, you might not have made it on your own. 

It was certainly no surprise when the bright rays of the morning sun woke you instead of your alarm. Your evening of passion had once again made you late for work, but this time you decided to take a much deserved day off. 

Rolling over to find your discarded purse, you rang Lizzie. As you thought of what to say, you gathered the sheet and wrapped it around you, walking as quietly as possible to the hall. When you heard her pick up on the other end of the line, you immediately began to ramble.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re in. Of course you are. Well…I…I have a small favor, Lizzie.” Not quite reaching the point before you felt something brush against your arm. You could hear her heavy sigh of annoyance just as you caught sight of Tommy, tugging at the corner of the sheet until he’d left you naked. 

With an impish grin, he began kissing you, beginning at your temple. You bit your lip as you tried to concentrate on your call, asking if she might take over for you this morning.

“Yes, just the two classes this morning,” you confirmed as Tommy’s head began to dip lower, lips grazing your shoulder and then your breast. You stifled a squeal as his tongue swirled the pebbled flesh around your nipple and gave a sudden bite, apologizing to her as you explained. “No, I, uh…burned myself.”

Tommy frowned at you as you tried to bat him away. Seductively pushing you against the wall as you listened to Lizzie begin a list of her own demands. “Well, alright, but when you return I’ll expect a trade. If you could…” 

Just then Tommy sunk to his knees, pushing your thighs apart and swiping his tongue through your folds before you could clamp your legs shut again. He sat back on his heels. “C’mon love,” he begged quietly.

“Is that a man's voice?” Lizzie asked sharply. Then with a gasp of recognition she said, “Tommy Shelby!”

“No, of course not. I have to go, Lizzie!” you rushed out in a single breath, hanging up before Tommy could open his mouth again.

“You’re going to get me fired!” you hissed at him playfully as he raised from the ground to kiss you good morning.

“They wouldn’t dare,” he promised, cool blue eyes shining back at you. You scrunched your nose at him skeptically, “And if they did?”

“You could be my tutor,” he offered as you broke into a fit of giggles. “I quite enjoyed last night’s lesson. In fact, I think I need another,” he began earnestly before his eyes crinkled with a mischievous grin. “Turns out I’m a terrible pupil. I have to study constantly,” he added with a dramatic shake of his head.

Then without warning, he scooped you up and hauled you back to bed as your shrieks of laughter echoed down the hall.

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 38

Synopsis : Reader listen to the leaked track in which Em mentions her.

Tags : angst

You stared at Marshall for a couple of seconds, in complete and utter disbelief. He seemed terrified. You had seen this look more often that you liked to admit. The very look that said he was guilty of something he definitely wasn’t proud of. You had first seen it the you fount out about him sending armed guys to threaten the rapper who had referred to you in a diss track, when he had admitted to threatening Josh, when you overheard Tracy mentioning blowing him in London… He stared at you, nervously biting his lip, not saying a word.

- Is it true ? You asked. Did-did you really name-drop me on a track ?

- I… It wasn’t supposed to be heard, he said. By anyone. Ever.

- What track is it ?

- Doesn’t matter, he said. Babe, I swear to God, it doesn’t matter. I… I have to call my team. We need to get that shit removed.

- You really are stupid, aren’t you ?! Jamal asked with a sardonic laugh. It dropped last night. It’s been listened to millions of times, reposted everywhere.

- I want to listen to it, you said.

- No you don’t, they both said at the same time.

- If my name is mentioned on a stupid track, I deserve to know ! You argued.

- Babe, please don’t, Marshall pleaded. Please.

- Don’t ‘Babe’ me, right now, you said. Jamal, give me your phone. I want to listen to it.

- Y/N, no… I hate to agree with this motherfucker, but… Don’t listen to this shit, Jamal said.

- That motherfucker’s still your boss, Marshall groaned. You better-

- Wait until I shove a drum machine up your ass, your friend shot back.

They stared at each other, looking as if they were about to hit each other. You didn’t care for either of their arguments. You didn’t need any of these grow men babying you and you deserved to listen to this damn song. You sighed and ran up the stairs to grab your phone. If the track had already gone viral, you’d find it pretty easily. As soon as you started to walk, they both followed you and tried to argue but you slammed the bedroom door in their faces and locked it behind you. You heard them yell at each other and sighed.

- Y/N, come back, Jamal said.

- Baby, open the door, please, Marshall asked.

You sighed and simply started to play the song. As soon as the first notes started playing, you heard complete silence. For an agonizing four minutes, you had to listen to your boyfriend, the man you loved, who said he’d always have your back, assassinate your character. You felt complete disgust, similar to the first time you had heard « Kim ». It wasn’t that the song was bad - on a technical and lyrical level, it was probably excellent - but knowing that these lyrics were about an actual person, about you, made you feel sick. He was describing nothing less than a torture scene, rapping about sequestering you in order to avoid a breakup, painting a scene in which he hurt you physically, going as far as impregnating you and making you abort with a butcher’s knife. The whole thing was horrendous and you thought you were about to faint when you heard your name, your actual name. It was impossible. It couldn’t be. This had to be some sort of nightmare. To make it worse, you had the urge to check the Internet’s reaction. Everyone seemed to be out there, celebrating « Eminem going back to his Shady era » or whatever that was. A few people seemed shocked but, in majority, fans seemed to be here for it. To add to the nightmare, people were linking the name in the song - yours - to the pictures that had leaked a year ago. The pictures of you in lingerie, that the Internet seemed to have forgotten - was back. It made you sick to your stomach. You felt vulnerable, like a prey. Your face, your name, your body were out there for people to make fun of. You were starting to feel dizzy so you laid on the bed, trying to breathe. You kept on listening to the song, hoping to hear another name than yours. Any other name. But each and every time, it was your name that came up. You heard the guys knock on the door, begging you to open. After a couple of minutes, you shakily opened, tears streaming down your face.

- I’m so sorry, Marshall said as he tried to pull you in his arms. Baby, I am so, so sorry…

- DO NOT TOUCH ME ! You screamed as you pushed him away.

- Baby, le-let’s talk, he begged. Please, Y/N. You have to know it-

- Tell me it’s a fake, you pleaded. Please tell me it’s AI or something.

- I’m so sorry, he said.

- Please tell me you didn’t write this, you continued. That you didn’t mention my name.

- Y/N, I- I didn’t mean to, I swear, he said.

- You didn’t mean what ?! You asked as you screamed. You didn’t mean to make a beat ? Didn’t mean to write the lyrics and then take the time to record the whole thing ?!?!?!

Your chest was heaving and you were full-on bowling. Marshall was standing in front of you, too close for comfort. He extended an arm to reach for you but you slapped his hand away as soon as he tried to touch you.

- Touch her again and I’m throwing you out the window, Jamal threatened.

- Fuck, Marshall said. Talk to me, Y/N. Please talk to me. Please look at me.

- I… I need to leave, you said.

You started running down the stairs and opened the door. You were in your pajamas, barefoot but at least you got some fresh air in your lungs. The skin on your face was burning, so were your eyes. You tried to focus on the air filling your lungs, trying to regain some composure. After a couple of minutes, you felt a had on your shoulder and immediately recognized Jamal’s.

- Hey sis, he said sheepishly. You holdin’ up ?

- I can’t believe he did this, you said. Have you heard that track ?!

- I have, he said. That’s why I came.

- That’s the most disgusting track I have ever heard, you replied. He… He fucking name-dropped me. And all these comments online…

- I know, Jamal said. I know.

- It’s vile. It’s disgusting. It’s… It can’t be true.

- I know, he simply repeated.

You started crying again and he engulfed you in a big bear hug. You had been hurt before, but no pain compared to this. You felt betrayed and humiliated. You kept on crying in Jamal’s arms, still not believing the man you loved had done this.

- Get in the car, Jamal said.

- Why ? Where are we going ? You asked.

- Home, he said. You really want to stay here ? With him ? After he did that ?

- I guess not, you shrugged. Wait… I have to take some clothes with me.

- Get in the car, I’m taking care of it, he said.

He opened the car and you sat in the passenger seat while he got back to the house. A few minutes later, you heard him come out of it, arguing with Marshall.

- Let me talk to her, he begged. I can explain.

- She doesn’t want to talk to you, man, your friend said. Leave her alone or I swear to God I will end you.

- Jamal, please, he pleaded. You know I would never hurt her. You know I love her.

- What I know is that you used one of my fucking beats to rap about torturing my fucking sister ! Jamal roared.

Your friend got in the car and drove you to his house, where Talia greeted you with a long hug. The three of you sat at the kitchen table and they encouraged you to eat some breakfast while you discussed the horrendous track.

MARSHALL’S POV

He didn’t hear of Y/N for a whole week. In the meantime, he heard from a lot of people, though. A few hours after she left the house in Jamal’s car, he got a phone call from Paul, who chastised him as if he were a teenager. The manager came to visit him and they sat in the living room, in order to work things out, on Paul’s insistence. As far as he was concerned, he only cared about Y/N and how he could get her to talk to him. As soon as he arrived, Paul examined his face.

- Did she hit you ?! He asked with a hint of surprise. Wouldn’t have thought she’d be this strong..

- Jamal did, he replied curtly.

- You might be lucky, then, Paul said. Is Y/N here ?

- Left with him, he mumbled.

- Never thought I’d say that, but I’m actually grateful she didn’t sign the NDA or put the addendum she talked about, Paul commented. Might have taken you to the cleaners…

- Paul, no offense, but I don’t give a fuck, Marshall said. My girlfriend left and won’t answer my calls. For all I care, she can take all of my money and full ownership of the label.

- Thank God It’s not happening, Paul groaned. I think we should talk about it, though. Because you seem to have set the Internet on fire.

- I don’t know what happened ! He finally snapped. We argued, I went to the basement studio and recorded that shit out of spite, because I was fucking pissed and scared after an argument. I have no fucking idea how this shit leaked !

- I’m sure we can find someone who can trace the leak, Paul said. But we have other issues. I have people calling me asking for statements from you. The Internet is truly ablaze. That’s some shock value right here.

- You say that as if it were a good thing, Marshall commented.

- If there’s someone who can make something good out of it, it’s you, the managed pointed out. It’s a leak but we might use it to our advantage. Slim Shady being back again. Maybe there’s an album concept…

- I don’t care about Shady, I want Y/N, Marshall roared. And I want the head of whoever leaked that shit ! I’m not using it to my advantage, I’m not promoting it and I’m not giving anyone a fucking statement !

They discussed for about an hour. Paul was a long-time friend and understanding of the situation. He knew more than anyone that Marshall was prone to using recording as a cathartic exercise and that some songs were not meant to be shared. In the past, they’d had to deal with leaks and, though each one had been a colossal pain in their asses, none was as bad as this one. Leaks were usually bad for business but, so far, none of them had destroyed his personal life. This one might as well do the trick, though. He had recorded it right after their argument, when Y/N would not speak to him and it was nothing but the result of his mind going to the darkest of places. Something shameful, using words to convey anger instead of sadness and fright. In a way, this was no different from the Kim track : him using violence on a track in order to express his obsession for the person he loved the most.

- So we agree, no statement ? Paul asked. No promotion ?

- If we put out anything, that should be a public apology to Y/N, Marshall said. I went on Twitter quickly… Have you seen that shit ?! Her picture, her name, they’re fucking everywhere and it’s my fault. I fucked up.

- At least, when you rapped about killing Kim, there was no social media, the manager agreed. Look, if that’s what you want, we can put a statement. I should warn you it might be pretty damaging, because a lot of people might not take kindly to you backtracking on something like this, but if you feel like we have to do this… We will.

- Really ? You’re not suggesting that we feed Y/N to the wolves ? Marshall asked sarcastically.

- I know I’ve been hard on you about your relationship with her, Paul said. But I also know that you usually put in your best work when she’s around. As your manager, I don’t think it would be strategic to publicly apologize to her. But as your friend, I want you to be happy. And I know she’s turned you into a better person. The whole team does.

- Thanks man, he replied.

They were interrupted by the noise of the front door opening. He quickly jumped from the couch, hoping to see Y/N coming home, and that he would finally be able to talk to her. Instead, he was met with Hailie’s angry gaze.

- Hay, he said. What are you doing here ?

- What do you think I’m doing here, Dad ? She asked. I’ve come to ask you for an explanation. Stevie and Alaina are on the way too.

- I take it that it’s about the track…? He asked.

- Of course it’s about the track ! She almost yelled. I can’t believe you did that !

- It’s a leak, he tried to explain. It wasn’t meant to come out or be heard by anyone. Ever.

- Still, she said. Y/N is a mess. She’s being harassed on social media, everyone’s coming for her…

- You talked to her ?! He asked.

- Yes, I called her, his daughter explained.

- She won’t take my calls, he said.

- Shocker, Dad, she said. Jesus, I wonder why she wouldn’t want to take a call from someone who recorded a song about torturing her…

- I know I fucked up, he said. I don’t know what to do…

- I can’t help you here, Dad, Hailie shrugged. She specifically told me she doesn’t want to speak to you.

He nodded. In the grand scheme of things, he could see why Y/N wouldn’t talk to him. Hell, if the shoe was on the other foot, he wouldn’t want to talk either. He looked at Paul, who was still sitting in the living room.

- I think we should put out that statement, he simply said.

- I’ll call the publicist right away and have him draft something, Paul replied.

- I want to approve it first, alright ?

- Of course, Paul said.

The manager said his goodbyes and promised to get back to him as soon as possible. Stevie and Alaina arrived and he was met with some sort of intervention which, really, was his three daughters chastising him. He wouldn’t expect them to support him blindly, they were old enough to have a mind of their own, but he was a bit shocked by the intensity of their reaction. Overall, there was a lot of screaming and shouting at him, pointing out how inappropriate the whole thing was.

- It was bad enough when you rapped about killing Mom, Alaina said. But Y/N is our age. You’re literally slandering someone who’s old enough to be our sister !

- I know, he said, but you girls know it’s just fiction, right ? I would never actually do these things. Half of my tracks are fictional.

- It’s not the issue, Dad ! Stevie argued. The issue is that she’s our age, being attacked by a grown ass man who could be her Dad. And that the fans are siding with him ! She didn’t ask for anything !

- I know, he said. Believe me, I know… I just… With everything that went down with your Mom, I have learned lessons, you know ? I never would have put out this track. I know how much it hurt her and I wouldn’t wish the same thing on Y/N. It wasn’t meant to be heard. It’s just me, taking things too far. Like a diary.

- Except that someone accessed that diary and leaked it, and now she’s paying the price, Hailie said.

- … Yeah, he said. I don’t know what to do.

It had been more than twelve hours since Y/N had left and he still hadn’t heard from her. And, as it was to be expected, neither Jamal nor Talia would pick up the phone either. He buried his face in his hands. He had fucked up, he knew it. But he was merely trying to let his anger out in the only way he knew how. The last thing he had wanted when he made that stupid track was for anyone to hear it, let alone enjoy it. Knowing that some fans were praising his writing on this one had nothing pleasant.

- Honestly, Dad, this is the most disgusting song you ever put out, Hailie continued.

- Agreed, he said. I don’t know what to do, girls. I don’t want to lose her. I know I deserve to, but I can’t.

After a couple of hours of discussion, his daughters ended up leaving. They were still clearly mad at him, just like everyone else seemed to be. The day after, he got a call from Dre. His mentor and friend sounded genuinely concerned. The leaked track was typically something he would have told him to shelf and never put out.

- You went too far with this one, Dre said. I’ve heard you go hard on some shit but that was… nasty.

- I know, Marshall replied. Believe me, I know… But it’s a leak, you know ?

- That’s what I heard, Dre replied. How is your girl doing ?

- I wish I knew, he said.

Dre wasn’t the only friend and collaborator who was concerned. Even Porter and Royce talked to him about the lyrics and how they went too far. He’d heard that so many times that he almost snapped at them but, really, he couldn’t really blame them. He was the only one to blame and he knew it. They also told him that Jamal was livid, threatening to come and destroy the entire studio, and they had to talk him out of it. His friends were disappointed in him, Y/N wouldn’t talk to him and even his daughters didn’t seem to want to be associated with him at the moment. It seemed like everything was falling apart. He was truly disgusted with himself. That’s when he decided to put out a statement, speaking in his own name. It was a rather short message, posted on his social media account, apologizing for the shocking lyrics, explaining that the track was not meant to be shared and calling for everyone to stop harassing his partner, whom he had made the mistake of name-dropping. He also apologized for using Jamal’s beat, stating that it was originally meant for another track whose release was postponed. He was not used to public apologies but this one might be overdue. And perhaps it would get Y/N to talk to him. However, in the following days, he still didn’t get any news from her. He tried to go to Talia and Jamal’s to talk to her but he was met with an angry Talia who refused to let him see his girlfriend and threatened to call the cops on him for harassment. He resorted to sending flowers and letters to Y/N, begging her to at least let him talk to her, even on the phone. One evening, almost a week after the track leaked, he got a call from Talia’s phone.

- Talia ? He asked. What’s up ? How is she ?

- It’s me, he heard Y/N say.

- Thank God, he said. How… How are you ?

- How would you expect me to feel… ?

- Right, he said. I’m… Thanks for calling me.

- You know, for someone who made fun of Josh for buying out every flower shop in town, you sure are filling the house with a lot of bouquets, she commented. I guess I’m calling because I’m afraid there won’t be any flowers left in Michigan by next week if we keep this going.

- Jewelers are next on the list, he said sarcastically.

- You know, you could spend all the money in the world, it wouldn’t make things better, Marshall, Y/N said.

- I know, he said. Believe me, I know. I guess I just wanted a chance to apologize, tell you what really happened. You have no idea how sorry I am.

- I believe I do, she said with a sarcastic laugh. Every one of the fifty bouquets you’ve sent contains a note saying how sorry you are.

- Can you come home ? He asked. So we can talk ?

- I would, but for one, I’d be afraid of being held up against my will and, two, Simon is coming over for diner tonight, she replied.

- Simon… Your ex, Simon ?! He asked.

[wisteriaiswriting]

Hey how's it going? You could do Brim, Harbor, Chamber, Iso , Yoru and Phoenix with male cat radiant (can be with gn) And I saw the first one you made and I loved it.

Agents With Male Cat Radiant

Words: 720

Old man and the cat he didn’t want (Absolutely loves and want’s you.)

Kinda over-buys toys, scratching posts and beds. (There are so many things in every room of the base.)

Speaking of, he’ll sit at his desk for hours using a laser pointer for you.

Keeps all the bells and louder toys away from his office and bedroom, letting you annoy the other agents with those.

His pet names aren’t that bad really; Handsome, Tiger (Or any big cat) and hairball. (When he’s annoyed with you.)

Keeps you away from his paperwork and anything else important in the office.

Has a folder full of you doing practically everything, which are filmed how you expect them to be. (Ranging from you just existing to you messing around with some toys.)

Isn’t the best at petting you, it’s rough but also gentle in a way. (He does get better though, don’t worry.)

This guy holds you in every way imaginable. (Holding you under your arms, in his arms etc.)

Another one to buy too many things, he’ll try to clean them up but ultimately you’ll just do it again.

Doesn’t have too many pet names, but has some; बिल्ली का बच्चा (Kitten), Ball of energy.

He just melts whenever he hears you purr.

You better hope you can handle baths, otherwise he’ll make it easy on the both of you and drops a ton of water on you. (Feels bad after and will coddle you.)

Also doesn’t care if you take up all the space on his bed, but if he’s that tired he’ll move you onto his chest.

While he loves you, please just stay away from his clothes. (Has a specific pair that he’s willing to get covered in your hair/fur.)

Chaton, boule de poils, beau gosse.

He still enjoys teasing you about anything; “You’ve made quite a mess, Chaton.” While actively using a lazer pointer to make you cause more chaos.

Only pays for the best items for you, and will not settle for anything less. (Is willing to get custom made ones.)

Tries to keep you away from the smaller parts of hiss guns, doesn’t want you to get hurt or lose something.

Commissions a collar for you? (Jk jk, unless?)

He’s not joking, buys the highest quality (But comfortable) one he can get.

Won't buy any toys / entertainment, but will lend you the money if you want anything.

亲爱的 (dear), 成套设备 (kit)

Can sit there for hours squishing your hand / paw beans, even messing with your claws.

If you have hair / fur, he’ll sit there and mess with it. Ruffle it, smooth it out, trys to braid some part of it.

Sometimes you’re not sure who’s the actual cat here, sure you are actually one, but he sure acts like it.

If you’re asleep on his bed / in his room, he’ll work around you, especially if you returned from a mission.

Makes sure you’re rarely hungry, leaves your favourite food in the pantry, and takes you out whenever.

Secret cat lover (Rather cats over dogs any day.)

Can sit for hours either watching or teasing you with anything he can get his hands on. (With his abilities there's a lot he can get.)

ベイブ (babe), ベイビー (baby), overgrown hairball

Is always down to play fight with you, scowling at the scratches you leave. (Isn’t that made though.)

Such an asshole as he uses his abilities to (lightly) tug on your tail, ears or hair then disappear.

Will wake you up if you’re in his way on his bed, isn’t afraid too.

Quietly jokes about getting you matching accessories, and he doesn’t mean gloves. (For you at least.)

He is so in love!!

Will spend all his money on anything and everything for you.

He’ll unironically take you to some cat cafes too, and I quote, ‘Go visit your fam!’

While he absolutely loves you, please stay away from his jackets, he doesn’t want any scratches on them.

Same goes for his shoes, but he’s def willing to buy more. (Gets matching pairs while he’s at it.)

God, some of his pet names are so cringy, but he’ll never stop; Kitten/kitty, baby, beautiful.

Tries to be nice about it but will kinda push you off if your claws dig into him, doesn’t enjoy the pain.

[luveline]

Here’s an idea for the roan and eddie series?,,

what if Roan gets a bad toothache and Eddie + The reader have to take her to the dentist but it’s her first time so she’s extra scared and nervous about the dentist Eddie and The reader help try to get her to feel better about it

thank you anon! dad!eddie x almost step mom!reader, 2.5k

tw for dentist’s office visit and related minor trauma, minor oral surgery, sedation, infection and blood (there’s no graphic description but mentioned)

You're sitting in the back seat of Eddie's car, gaze flitting between his stone-set brow and his crying daughter intermittently. You've never seen Roan in pain like this before, and Eddie's reaction is heartbreaking. 

"I want more Mapap," Roan says tearfully, cheeks shining wet with tears and bright red, "Dad, I want Mapap, please." 

He keeps his focus on the road, but his voice betrays his panic, "You can have more in just a minute, babe. One minute." 

"I want it now," she says. 

Her toothache began a few nights ago after a mishap with a sharp tortilla chip. She'd cried unexpectedly —the older she gets, the better she handles small pains— and Eddie had doted on her lovingly, rubbing her back for hours until she was calm enough to show him the fallout. He shined a torch into her mouth and found the problem, a cracked baby tooth, her spit orangey-red with blood. 

He called the dentist the next morning, though she'd woken up without a fuss, and they'd agreed to see her in four days time to make sure it wasn't a problem. 

Three days later, it’s definitely a problem. Clearly the cracked tooth and exposed gum has become infected and left your poor almost-daughter in a lot of pain (almost because you and Eddie aren’t married yet, not because you don't love her like one). 

You give her knee a little rub, shushing and humming as sympathetically as you can. 

"Almost there," you murmur. 

"It hurts," she says sullenly, "daddy, I want the Mapap." 

Eddie's shoulder tense. He's not mad, you know that, he's just not sure what he can do. He licks his lips, turning into the parking lot, and doesn't answer until he's parked. 

"I'm coming, Ro," he says, "two seconds."

Eddie gets out of the car. You wait for him to open her door and scoop her out of her car seat before you get out yourself, dipping into the passenger side for the papers he'd set aside earlier, all of her medical information in a neat folder. 

You're pretty sure he forgets to lock the car, pat pat patting Roan's back as you begin the short walk to the dentist's office. Roan whines for painkillers and Eddie praises her for being so good rather than refuse her again, "You're so brave, babe," he says, arms full as you reach the door. 

You put your hand on his elbow before you open it. "I got this," you say. 

He nods stiffly. Together, you enter the dentist's office and Eddie quickly takes a seat, Roan longer than ever and yet impossibly small as she curls up in his lap, her swollen cheek held away from his chest. 

"I want to go home," she says, "I don't like it in here. I want to see Uncle Wayne." 

"Hi," you say as you approach the front desk, wincing at her crying behind you as it grows louder, "we’re here for an emergency appointment for Roan Munson."

The receptionist smiles, clicking Roan's name into the computer. She nods, ticks a box or two, and hands you a clipboard. "Fill this in, please. The dentist is on schedule, so it should be any minute now. Don't worry about finishing the form in time, as long as you hand it back before you leave." 

"Thank you." 

Eddie's promising things as you return, hand on Roan's knee. "I swear, sweetheart, it'll stop hurting any minute now. The dentist will give you a little bit of medicine to make the pain stop, and then he'll fix your tooth. How's that sound?" 

"I want medicine at the house," she says, eyes wide. 

Her wriggling panic from the pain has abated some now Eddie's holding her, but she hates the dentist, and it's written plainly on her face. The poor baby is terrified. 

You fill in her clipboard forms as best as you can. You're a Roan expert at home, having known her for more than a year and loving her that whole time, but there's some medical stuff you can't answer. You don't know what her blood type is, you certainly can't tell them where she was born. You assume Hawkin's general hospital, but you just don't know. If they wanted to know her favourite pair of shoes, or what shape she likes her pancakes in, you’d be the girl to ask. 

"You gotta fill this in," you say. 

Eddie looks up. "What?" 

"I don't know this stuff, sorry." 

He gives you a quick smile and takes the clipboard. "That's alright," he says, pressing it to Roan's leg. "Roan doesn't know your blood type either. Equal exchange." 

You crouch down by their seat and meet Roan's eyes. Tender, you tuck a sweaty curl behind her ear and give her your softest smile. 

"You're so brave, princess. You just tell me what you want after this and we'll go get it. Anything you want." 

Her lip wobbles. "It's scary in here," she says, like she's breathless. 

You find her hand and take a deep breath, hoping she'll take her own to match. 

“Don’t be scared. Me and dad are right here with you. Don’t be scared.” You smile at her, though really you want to frown, perturbed by her sniffling and her rumpled hair, her tear-sticky collar. “You think I’d let them hurt my girl? No way. We’re here to make you feel better, and I promise that’s all we’re gonna do. Me and dad aren’t going anywhere.”

She gets called into the dentist's office soon after. You take back the clipboard and Eddie puts her down on her own two feet for the short walk into the room, wiping his face with the back of his hand. You say polite and rushed hellos to the dentist and her assistant. 

"Hi, Roan," says Dr. Mackenzie, a tall, pretty black woman in scrubs and a white doctor’s coat . She’s known Roan since she had teeth to look at, but her presence unfortunately doesn't calm her. "I didn't think we'd see you so soon. What's the matter, hun?" 

"She cracked her tooth on a tortilla chip," Eddie says succinctly, though he does add, "Hi, Dr. Mackenzie. It's good to see you." 

She waves her hand at Eddie, grinning at you. "God, he's charming. Alright, Roan, let's have you up on the big chair. Dad can hold your hand, here we go." 

The assistant stands with her prepped tools, and Dr. Mackenzie grabs the circle light and moves it over Roan' face. Eddie rubs her little knuckles in a careful hold as Dr. Mackenzie investigates the wound. You stand off to the side feeling useless and wishing you were the one holding Roan's hand as she yelps. 

"I see," Dr. Mackenzie says. "Okay, so this is the tooth with the cavity we filled last time, do you remember? It's only a little tooth, and we wanted to prolong its lifespan, but the filling we used was a temporary one because it was white. White fillings look good, but they aren't as strong, and you must've had a very sharp chip. So what I want to do now is take an x-ray to assess the infection, and then we'll fix your poor tooth. How does that sound, dad?" 

"Is it a bad infection?" Eddie asks worriedly. 

Dr. Mackenzie shakes her head. "Not necessarily, but the tooth is cracked all the way to the root, that's why she's in so much pain." 

"Can I have Mapap now?" Roan asks, when the mirror tool's and the lollipop stick have been removed from her mouth. 

"Something stronger," Dr. Mackenzie agrees. 

You and the dentists have to step out of the room for the x-ray, but it only takes a second. Eddie stays and absorbs whatever miniscule radiation it is that's exuded. They don't show Roan, but the infection is a small abscess in her gum wrapped around the root of the tooth. Dr. Mackenzie has a couple of options for treatment, but the best and luckiest is that Roan can either be put under mild sedation or she can breathe some nitrous oxide, both methods avoiding all the pain and traumatic memory of an extraction. 

"It's more expensive to be sedated," Dr. Mackenzie says, because she has to. "But it's what I recommend."

Eddie's at the point where you're sure he'd do anything. "Then we'll do what you recommend," he says. 

"Alright. We'll only need a few minutes to prepare. Has she eaten today?" 

"Breakfast, but nothing since, she can't," you say. 

"Alright. Roan, I'm gonna give you a glucose dissolvable, hun. It tastes very sweet and chalky, but I want you to try and let it dissolve on your tongue, okay? You don't have to chew it." 

Roan eats the glucose tablet. You and Eddie stand hip to hip and as out of the way as you can manage as they prepare the room for her procedure, laying the chair very flat. When it's time to start, they usher you back to the chair at the opposite end of the room. Eddie holds her hand the whole time. They medicate her, and you're glad she's sedated, even if the procedure isn't especially brutal. They clamp and wiggle out her broken tooth in two clean pieces in about a minute, before draining the abscess and packing her wound with gauze. It's done in fifteen minutes altogether. 

They give her a couple of minutes to come around properly, asking guiding questions. Do you feel any pain, hun? Dizziness? Do you feel sick? 

Eddie doesn't let her walk. He picks her up with infinite gentleness and positions her head on his shoulder like a pillow, smoothing the hair from her face a strand at a time as the dentist talks about cleaning and prevention of further infection. 

"She might, uh, need to spit," the assistant remarks. 

Drool dribbles down Eddie's front. He's practically all smiles now that she's finally out of pain. "That's okay, I'm used to it by now." 

Back to the waiting room for more paperwork. There will be another heap to come in the mail sure enough, you can already picture the arguments you're going to have on the phone with Eddie's insurance, 

"World's most expensive bag of Doritos," you remark on the way back to the car. 

Eddie's thumb rubs thoughtlessly against the bumps of her spine. "My girl," he says, not talking to you, lips on Roan's forehead, "poor girl. Though I bet that's much better relief than a spoonful of Mapap, huh?" He kisses her smooth forehead. "You're the bravest girl in the whole world." 

His severeness startles you, but of course you agree. "The bravest in the universe," you agree. "How about I drive, handsome?" 

Eddie dotes the entire drive. You make a stop at the store for soft foods, ice cream and yogurt and soup, as well as a cute cup to make the salt water wash she's going to have to endure more appetising, as well as some general treats. Eddie, usually averted to you spending money on treats, doesn't say a bad word when you show him the new pyjamas, socks, and Barbie doll you've bought for her. He strokes some life into Roan's cheek and says, "Oh, look what Y/N's got for you, angel." 

"This isn't her present," you say firmly, turning back to the wheel. "She still gets to choose something else." 

Eddie kisses the top of her head, pleased when she has the sense about her to say, "My mouth tastes funny." 

"Yeah?" he asks. "You want to drink some of my water?" 

She drinks some water, though the majority of it ends up back in the bottle. She's still mildly woozy when you park the car in the driveway to your house and usher them inside of your sanctuary. Eddie's wrapped her up like an octopus, unwilling to part with her, and for once allowing you to expend some of your own energy on things that need to get down. You set them up with drinks and blankets and TV while you clean the mess of the kitchen. You give yourself a breather by the open window, and it's quiet enough to hear Eddie's praising murmurs. 

"You're so, so brave, Ro. You're such a brave girl, and me and Y/N have never been so proud of you… I know this has been a really hard week for you, and I promise I'm gonna make it up, okay? I love you." 

"...Love you, daddy." 

"I love you," he says again. "Can I have a look at your gauze, sweetheart?" 

"I'm tired." 

"Really quickly. Really quickly, and then we'll get you into some pyjamas." 

There's a gap of silence. 

"Dad, you have yucky stuff on your t-shirt." 

"Ew, I know. I was just crying so much worried about you," he teases. 

You grin at his silly fib and trek back into the living room where Roan's propped back on her big fluffy pillow on the couch, Eddie leaning over her just slightly. He's inching forward threateningly, Roan's gross dribble splotch on his chest and growing closer and closer. She giggles lazily. 

"Don't," she begs. 

"Don't what? You don't wanna hug me?" 

"Get changed, dad," she says, pushing his chest away. 

He sits up, noticing you where you wait by the back of the couch. "Hey. Y/N's gonna sit with you and I'm gonna change my shirt, okay? I'll be really fast, Ro, and then you owe me a hug." 

Roan sighs morosely. "Okay, you can have a hug now." 

"I can?" Eddie beams at you, beams at his girl, and looks properly light-hearted for the first time in days. "Thanks, Roan. You're the bestest." 

"I know." 

Eddie grabs blindly for you and tugs you down to join the hug wonkily. It’s haphazard and ill-fitting, but he squeezes your shoulder, and you try to get in on the love. It reminds you of any other night. 

Eddie tears himself away from her eventually to change. You stop him from stepping around you, taking his stubbly cheek into your hand. “Good job, Munson,” you say, letting your hand slide down his neck to the curve of his shoulder. “You were…” You swallow down the cheesy praise you were going to give him. “I think you deserve a treat too.”

“We all do,” he says. “I know you were freaked out–”

“I wasn’t,” you interrupt, though you concede, “Okay, a little bit.”

“Me too. I’m majorly impressed by how fast they fixed her.”

“You’ll be majorly impressed by the bill,” you joke softly. 

He steals a hug. “Ah, well. Worth every penny, right?”

You hug him back. “Definitely,” you agree. She’s worth whatever it costs. “Good thing we’ve been saving. Goodbye, familymoon.”

“We’re still going on vacation,” he says. He pulls back to chuck you under the chin. “Even if we have to walk there.”

“Dad, can I spit again? My mouth tastes bad,” Roan says. 

You usher him upstairs and tend to his daughter unflinchingly, happy to take the icky job. She’s worth a million times more than a vacation, and you’d deal with worse than spit if it means she feels better. 

—

more eddie, roan and reader <3

[chubbyreaderchan]

We Aren’t A Joke | Poly!Lost Boys x Plus Size! G/N Reader

Warnings: Fatshaming, self-hatred, touchy vampires, nothing else. They/them pronouns but can be read as any gender really, no editing,  

A/N: This might end up being its own little thing because there’s more I want to write but this just needed out of my head. I think I want to have blurbs with this reader and the boys and such. 

The boardwalk was practically empty. The holiday season had passed and the lull between Christmas and spring break was in full swing. David was in an almost trancelike state, staring at no one, in particular, his belly was warm and full from the hunt the night before. Truly, a night of relative quiet for the rowdy bikers.

David tossed his cigarette over the side of the pier into the water below, he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Paul.

“Holy shit,”

David looked at Paul and then in the direction he was staring, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. The cool wind picked up just then and he had to hold back an animalistic groan at the smell that washed over him.

Hell, he could practically feel all of his mates grumbling at the smell. David hadn’t realized he’d shut his crystal blue eyes until they fluttered back open to see what he knew was the next member of their little family.

He wanted them. He wanted them… now.

They hadn’t even looked at him and his boys, their plump little future mate was enticed by a table of trinkets. David couldn’t resist raking over their sexy body, taking in each soft curve and dip. Cute. Very cute. They were in a thick sweater, one much too big on them which was only slightly disappointing for David, hugely disappointing for Paul who was practically bouncing to get to them.

In fact, David watched as Paul bounded over like a golden retriever.

“Hey, sugar,” he said into their ear. “You all alone tonight?”

They backed up in surprise and glanced behind Paul at the other boys who were watching in love-sick awe. David could hear their heart race.

“I’m not interested,” they said quickly.

Paul looked like he was gut punched.

“Aw, come on babe. We can go for a ride. Get something to eat,” He almost sang out.

David had a feeling he should have been the first one to talk to their mate, not Paul. David and the other boys began to close in on the two.

“I just don’t want to be a part of… whatever this is… joke… dare…. Whatever.”

“Joke,” David seethed. “You think we’re a joke,”

They bit their lip. “Not necessarily you. I’m the butt of the joke here,”

Dwayne looked at them, thinking. He had a bad feeling about this whole situation, and he could feel the radiation of rage off of Marko. All of them would fight for any of their mates, but Marko was always the first to jump in. Swing fists and fangs and ask questions later.

“We just want to get to know you, sugar. You are just… irresistible,” Paul smiled. “At least tell us your name?”

Despite their better judgment and past experience in these situations, they gave in.

“I’m…(Y/n),” they said awkwardly. “And I don’t want to be part of the ‘dare the friend to ask out the fat person’ game,”

They were getting frustrated; they could feel their usual reaction starting to build. They could all feel it. David moved, pushing Paul back and running a leather-clad hand over their plush cheek. His blue eyes felt like they were reaching inside their soul.

“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning into their ear. “I promise we aren’t going to hurt you,”

His breath was cold, or perhaps the night chill got to them. They tucked their hands around their middle, trying to shield themselves from the cool Santa Carla wind.

“Come on, princex,” David encouraged.

He had them, he just needed to pull them in.

“I-I don’t even know you,” they said with a soft sigh.

They pulled back from David’s grasp, causing him to growl slightly. He didn’t like that. Not at all, even if it’s just from some silly human insecurity. They belonged to him and his boys, they were going to keep them if he had to drag them back to the cave by force.

“I’m Dwayne,” spoke the quietest. “That is David. Marko. And Paul. We promise we aren’t going to hurt you, princex,”

His words were so sincere. The way he looked at them made their heart flutter.

They sighed, defeated. Marko smiled approaching them and throwing an arm around them in whatever way he could reach. His fingers pressed into their soft flesh and he wanted to die at the softness. Hell, he would die for their softness, and he barely knew them.

“Dove, we are going to keep you safe,” the cherub said.

“I’m sorry, but how often do four very beautiful men come up to a fat person and really want to be around them… in any capacity? I don’t want to be abandoned in some parking lot in the middle of nowhere just because it’s funny to mess with ‘piggy’” they air quoted.

“The fuck?” Paul said loudly.

“Yeah, what the actual fuck. Who did that?” Marko was gripped onto them tighter, almost bruising the soft flesh.

David snaked his arm around them nudging a silently protesting Marko away. They began to walk, their human in the middle as they flanked them.

“Why don’t we go for a ride, kitten? I’ll prove that we want nothing but the best for you, sweetheart,” David promised. “You’ll ride with me,”

“Ride?” they were in front of four motorcycles that seemed to reflect each boy’s personality. “Oh, I’ve never--,”

A gentle pinch at their ribs caused them to squeak adorably, Marko walked around them with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, it’s fun.” The smallest of the group said.

He had a devilish grin that (Y/n) couldn’t help but find heart-meltingly cute. Without warning, David wrapped his arms around their middle, as if they had been dating for years and it was the most natural thing.

“I promise to keep you safe, just trust me,”

The scruff of his facial hair rubbed against their tender skin, and they could have sworn the bleach blonde took in a deep breath of their scent.

David mounted his bike and held out his hand to help them onto the back of his. Once on, he grabbed their hands and forced them to press directly against his back wrapping their arms firmly around his middle.

They just felt… right.

[charliehoennam]

from cramps to comfort

a/n: my bestie @harmonity-vibes has been having a bit of a tough day and i just wanted to make something nice for her. luv u, hon 💗

pairing: tommy cahill x f!reader

summary: you're on your period, everything sucks so tommy makes it his mission to help you feel better

warnings: mentions of blood, period, fluff, language, not proof-read

Getting off of work is the only thing you've been looking forward to the entire day. All you can think about is getting home and stewing yourself in a nice, hot bath to relief the aching cramps you’ve been feeling.

The day started off terribly wrong right off the bat. You had felt the cramps settling in the previous day and you even set a pad to try and prevent any accidents, but that was a total failure.

You woke up to the large red stain on your bedsheets and you just knew it was going to be one of those days.

As if the staining paranoia and the gut-twisting cramps weren’t enough to make you constantly uncomfortable, you also struggled to deal with your stupid fucking hormones.

Everything and everyone have been annoying or frustrating you for the past couple days. You hate that you feel like ripping everyone’s heads off and having their spleen for dessert. It’s not their fault; you’ve even managed to piss yourself off to the brink of tears. You just can’t help it.

You had no choice, but to brace yourself for the day. You thought about calling in sick, but you figured you could suck it up and face the day. It’d be over quickly and there was so much that you had to do.

After a hot shower to clean yourself up, you got dressed and took your phone from its charger by your nightstand in your rush to catch up with the clock.

Seeing Tommy’s name on the screen almost makes you forget about the pain.

“Morning, beautiful 🥰 Feeling better? Hoped we could have dinner together tonight?”

You read his message, but you have no time to write back. You’re running late thanks to your alarm and mother nature, so you scramble through your apartment to grab everything you could need.

The minute you lock your door, your phone starts buzzing. You lift it up to see who’s calling you and see your boyfriend’s face smiling back at you.

“Hey, Tommy”

“Morning, baby. You missed your alarm again?”

“Yeah, I think I forgot to set it last night. I really passed out, I was so tired.”

He can hear your footsteps going down the stairs as you make your way to the front entrance.

“Are you feeling any better though? You said you were feeling icky yesterday.”

“And now I know why. I got my period.”

“Oh, damn. I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s not your fault, babe. Just Mother Nature being a bitch.”

“Is there anything I can d-“

“Fucking son of a bitch” you grumble as you push the stuck door to open. “Door never works. Sorry, babe. What did you say?”

“I asked if there’s anything I can do?”

“No, Tommy” you say holding your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you fish for your bus pass in your bag. “Fuck!” you groan. “Why can’t anything go right today?”

“What happened?”

“I gotta go back for my stupid fucking bus pass. I forgot it at home.”

“Baby, lemme give you a ride. I’m just a couple blocks over anyways.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be going to work? I don’t wanna make you late.”

“You won’t be, alright? Just wait there and I’ll pick you up, ok?”

“Alright, Tommy. Thank you so much.”

“See you in ten minutes, babe.”

You hang up and sit on the curb to wait for your boyfriend. The cold air tightens your muscles and you’re reminded of the pain in your core. You took medicine in your morning rush, but apparently, it wasn’t enough to numb it out entirely.

You sit and wait with your head tucked down over your arms. You’re so ready for the day to end.

Tommy soon arrives to pick you up as promised, but the wide grin on his face quickly disappears when he realizes how shitty you’re actually feeling.

It breaks his heart to see you in pain and feeling down in the dumps. He’s got a natural instinct for making people laugh and feel good. Not being able to do even that makes him feel useless.

It reminds him of the mental breakdown his brother went through years ago. Although he's gotten better and was able to return to his family a recovered man, depression hits him from time to time when he remembers what he had to endure.

Tommy never fails to cheer him up and remind him that he's a survivor. He might not be a doctor, but he does whatever he can to remind his loved ones that they are loved.

He listens to you vent on route to your workplace, making encouraging remarks when you mention your driving test is today during your lunch break. Tommy does his best to lift your spirits and reminds you of how well you’ve done during his lessons.

He’d been teaching you for the past couple weeks and, although he says you’ve improved a lot, you’re still nervous about the test because the instructor you were paired up with wasn’t exactly the friendliest of folks. It also didn’t help that Tommy is your boyfriend; he could be a little biased.

As you arrive at work, you thank him for the ride and kiss him good-bye. The hand he sets on your cheek makes you want to cancel the entire day just to be with him.

“Hey… All you gotta do is try the best you can today. And if it doesn’t go well, there’s always a tomorrow.”

His gentle voice chases your worries away.

“I know, baby. Thank you. Wish me luck?”

“All the luck in the world, sweetheart. Lemme know how it goes?”

“I will,” he pecks you once more before you climb out of his truck.

“Dinner at your place or mine?” he questions rolling the window down.

“Uhm, mine? Is that ok?”

“Fine by me, beautiful. Have a nice day. Love you!”

“Love you too” you chuckle and step back to let him roll the window back up. Tommy waits until you’re safely in the building to drive away.

Despite your best efforts, the day does not go as well as you had hoped.

The driving test was a total dud. Your instructor was a grade-A asshole. Your boss is riding you over some stupid report he managed to lose and accused you of not handing it in. Your insides feel like knives are churning in your walls. The headache you already took a second dose of painkillers after lunch still persists.

You can’t stop watching the clock and it seem that, as it gets closer to clock-out, time seems to go by even slower.

While you wither away at work, Tommy heads to the local drugstore. Standing the middle of the aisle, he stares at the vast variety of pads and tampons with a store basket in hand.

"What the f-" he whispers to himself as his eyes roam around in confusion. "Why does there have to be so many?"

His brows furrow like he's trying to build a spaceship. He picks one up to read the packaging. It might as well be in a foreign language because nothing makes sense to him.

He has no idea what difference between a pantyliner and overnight pad is. He doesn't understand why the tampons come in sizes.

Desperately confused, he whips his phone to dial his brother's number.

"Sam, hey! You got a minute?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I'm trying to get some lady shit for my girlfriend, but I don't understand any of this stuff."

"Yeah, I've been there before."

"Like how do i know what her size is? Is it like the size of her lady bits?"

"No," Sam chuckles. "It's according to her flow."

"How the fuck do i know that?"

"Just get the medium tampons when in doubt. And I'd suggest taking overnight pads. Some girls don't like sleeping with tampons."

"Alright. What are wings though? Should I get them with or without the wings?"

"They're like parts that open up and stick to the underwear, so it doesn't keep moving around. I always get the ones with wings."

Tommy nods and places the phone to hold with his shoulder as he grabs the products from the shelves and sets them in the basket.

"You should probably take some Pamprin too. Midol doesn't work for every girl."

"What the fuck is that?" he frowns.

"Medicine for cramps, Tommy. And my tip? When you're in her bathroom, take pictures of the brands she uses so you don't forget."

"Fuck, I didn't think of that. I gotta do that. Thanks, man."

With 5 minutes left of the extra hours you had to put in due to the driving test, you gather your things and head to the bathroom for a quick tampon change before starting your journey home on the bus.

You haphazardly wrap your scarf around your neck and hook your jacket on to finally make your long-awaited exit, thankfully the day is done.

The door flies open as you eagerly walk outside, but you freeze in your stride as you see Tommy standing in the parking lot, stood against his truck smoking a cigarette as he waits for you in the blistering cold.

He grins watching your face light up at the surprise.

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

“Not too long,” he lies. He’s freezing his balls off, but he doesn’t want to make you feel bad about it, especially since the intention was to surprise you. “I thought you could use a ride.”

“I most definitely can,” you nod walking towards him as he stomps his cigarette out.

He flashes a dopey smile as he cranes his head to kiss you hello. He tastes like smoke, but you don’t mind it. You’re just happy to see him and to feel his prickly beard on your skin.

“Got a couple things for you,” he smirks down at you.

“Oh? Like what?”

“You gotta get home and see,” he chuckles slyly.

You and Tommy had given each other a copy of your home keys as a special milestone in your relationship. It was a major step for him. His time in prison taught him to appreciate his freedom and personal space more, so allowing you to come and go freely meant he trusts you beyond comprehension.

“Just tell me there’s food. I really don’t wanna cook tonight.”

“There’s food, baby. I promise,” he smirks opening the passenger door to help you climb inside.

After a short straight drive home, you head up to your apartment and gasp as you walk inside.

On the table, you find a beautiful bouquet of flowers set in a pretty vase. That wasn’t there before. On the breakfast bar, you see you a box of pizza along with your favorite chips and chocolates all arranged neatly.

“There’s your favorite Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer too. And,” he pauses to walk over to the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag off the counter. “I wasn’t sure what products you like better. I don't really understand this stuff but I got you medium tampons, night pads, Pamprin and some fuzzy socks,” he grins proudly. “I just thought they were cute.”

You laugh as you walk over to hug him, tears prickling at your eyes.

“Baby, this is so thoughtful. Thank you so much.”

 “Are you crying?” he asks worriedly.

“Yeah, but to be fair, I’ve cried like three time today already. It’s beyond my control. I’m just so tired and in pain all the time.”

“Aw, baby. I’m sorry. That’s gotta be tough. Is there anything else I can do? I-I can run you a bath? Hot water helps, right?” You nod in agreement.

The bubble bath you soak in melts your pain away. It could just be the medicine working, but the warmth of the water provides the relief you’ve been seeking the whole day.

Looking over at the feminine products on the bathroom sink counter, you smile to yourself wondering how you had managed to get so lucky with Tommy.

He might be a little rough around the edges. He smokes, he curses like a sailor, he’s got a temper, but he also takes care of you so well unlike any of your exes ever have before or at least he tries to.

“How you doing in there, sweetheart?” he smiles, snapping you out of your thoughts as he leans in the doorway already dressed in his warm sweatpants and white t-shirt.

“This feels so fucking good. You have no idea.”

“I don’t mean to rush you, baby. But the pizza’s all heated up. You need to eat too.”

“I know, I’m just so tired to move.”

“Yeah? Do you want me to help?” he asks genuinely worried. “I can dry you off and-and, you know…p-put it in you?”

You follow his hands as he reaches for the open box of tampon and takes one out to study it curiously.

“How the hell do you get this inside though?” he asks frowning confusedly as he lifts the box to read the instructions.

“Where’s the applicator? Wait, was I supposed to buy that too? Does that come separately?”

Despite his eagerness to help, you can tell he’s slightly nervous of the idea of putting a tampon in you. The instruction and the product alone have him so baffled.

Your laughs echo through the bathroom as he blushes and chuckles along shyly.

“I’m just saying, I ain’t scared of a little blood.”

“Thanks, babe. But I got it under control.”