#s'the best

[dixons-sunshine]

Spot Of Tea | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Marrying Daryl was one of the best decisions you ever made. He was no longer the hot-headed, rude hunter from the quarry who you couldn't stand. Instead, he was someone who you'd come to love above all else, someone who you bled with and shared a beautiful baby girl with. And just when you thought you couldn't love your husband more, he just had to go and have a cute little teaparty with your daughter.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: Back at it again with another Dad!Daryl fic, and this one was inspired by @louifaith's amazing idea! This was so cute and I just had to write this. Domesticity with Daryl is my favourite genre. I hope you like this!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

The sun was just starting to set. Everyone was starting to retreat into their homes for the night and the people on guard were switching shifts with the people on night shift. You were done for the day, a successful day's work in the infirmary adding a bounce to your step as you walked up the porch stairs and into your shared home with Daryl, locking the door behind you and shedding your coat.

The house was eerily silent. Daryl had sustained an injury while on a run and had been given the week off by Rick to heal. Although your husband had initially been against the idea, one look from you had shut any protests down—being the community's nurse and his wife gave you that advantage. It was already day three and he'd been spending all of his time with Hazel, your daughter. Each night you'd come home to find him watching some old cartoons he'd found tapes of with her in the living room, all cuddled up under a big, fuzzy, comfortable blanket.

So where were they that night, and why was it so quiet?

“Daryl?” you called out after searching the first floor of your small home with no sign of the archer or your daughter. You started descending up the stairs, but stopped when you got to the top. You could hear your three year old's voice coming from her room, soon followed by Daryl's own.

You walked down the hallway and into her room, stopping in the doorway at the sight that you met; your daughter sitting down on the ground in front of her bed, surrounded by her stuffed toys with the plastic tea set Daryl had found for her in the middle, with the archer himself sitting on the opposite side of her. The big, gruff man was "drinking" from the plastic teacup, sporting a plastic tiara. Hazel was happily babbling on, and Daryl was looking at her fondly, a small smile on his face as he hummed in agreement to whatever she said.

You leaned against the doorway with an amused smile on your face, silently observing your husband dutifully playing out Hazel's storyline. They hadn't noticed your presence yet, and you jumped at the opportunity to admire the two most important people in your life.

“Do you want some more tea, Daddy?” Hazel asked, pouring the imaginary tea into the cups of the stuffed animals surrounding her.

Daryl nodded and extended the plastic cup in her direction. “Yeah, 'course I do. Ya make the best tea in the land.”

Hazel giggled and poured the imaginary tea into Daryl's cup. “There you go, Daddy.”

“Thanks, Princess Hazelnut,” Daryl thanked her, taking a sip from the plastic cup and humming in approval. “Tastes good. Wha'd ya put in this?”

“My secret recipe,” Hazel responded with a giggle, placing the plastic teapot down on the ground, picking up her own cup. “You look pretty, Daddy. Like a real princess.”

Daryl chuckled and patted at the tiara on his head. “S'the crown. S'makin' me look like royalty.”

“Yeah, the look suits you,” you voiced, finally making Hazel and Daryl aware of your presence.

Hazel dropped the plastic teacup in her hands and hastily got up, rushing over to you. “Mama!”

You crouched down to catch her in your arms, picking her up and placing sweet, soft little kisses on her face. “Hey, baby,” you greeted her, an affectionate smile on your face. “Were you and Daddy having fun?”

“'Course we were,” Daryl chipped in, slowly getting up from the floor due to the injury on his leg. He walked with a noticable limp over to you, ruffling Hazel's hair. “We always have fun. Ain't tha' righ', Hazelnut?”

Hazel giggled and buried her face into your shoulder. “Yeah. Daddy played princesses and tea parties with me.”

“Yeah. 'M Princess Dana of the Forest Kingdom. This lil' one is Princess Hazelnut of the Fairy Kingdom. We were jus' meetin' up to form an alliance to fight against the dangerous Fire Tribe, who wants to destroy the forest and all the animals in my kingdom. We need the help of Princess Hazelnut and the Fairy Warriors to defeat them once and fer all,” Daryl explained, using a deeper voice for dramatic effect.

“Well I'm sorry I interrupted your meeting. Do you want me to leave?” you asked teasingly, sending the archer a playful smile over your daughter's head.

Hazel shook her head. “No. Daddy and I will finish tomorrow.”

“Well, I've got the day off tomorrow. Would you mind if I joined you two?”

“Yay! Mama's gonna join us, Daddy!” Hazel exclaimed happily, hugging you tighter.

Daryl smiled fondly at Hazel, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Yeah, I heard tha', Hazelnut. Mama's gon' help us defeat the Fire Tribe. They will no longer hurt the animals in my kingdom.”

“Yeah! Mama's gonna help us win!”

You laughed lightly at their theatrics, shaking your head. You placed another kiss on Hazel's forehead before placing her back down on the ground. “Why don't you go wash your hands and wait for me and Daddy downstairs? If you promise to be good, there will be a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise? Yay! Thank you, Mama!” Hazel exclaimed, hugging your legs tightly before bounding out of the room excitedly.

You chuckled affectionately at the little girl that brought so much light into your life. It amazed you how one small human being could fill a hole in your heart that you hadn't even realised existed before. Hazel was your pride and joy, your baby girl who you'd go to great lengths to protect, as would Daryl.

You turned back towards the archer and gave him an amused smile. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Daryl mused, stepping forward to place his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. “How was yer day?”

“Not as eventful as yours, I'm guessing,” you teased, laughing lightly. You gently took the tiara from his head, inspecting it. “Gotta say, though, the whole "Princess Dana" thing suits you. Never would've guessed it was you with this tiara on. You looked really pretty.”

“Stop,” Daryl said with a chuckle. “Hazel asked me to wear the tiara. It made the story more believable.”

“It sounds like a good storyline. I'm actually invested now, and I wonder how the two of you are gonna work me into the story.”

“Hazel will figure it out. She's a real creative kid. She has a big imagination,” Daryl replied, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over your hip in a gentle caress. “She's amazin'.”

“Just like her daddy,” you responded, gazing up at your husband lovingly.

Daryl scoffed and ducked his head, but you didn't miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. “Nah, she got it from her mama. She's a mini ya.”

“I don't think so, but okay,” you relented, dropping the tiara on the bed before wrapping your arms around his neck. “She's perfect.”

Daryl hummed. “Jus' like her mama,” he whispered before capturing your lips with his, kissing you sweetly and lovingly.

The kiss ended all too soon for your liking, but you remembered that you had a toddler waiting for you downstairs. “We should probably get her fed and ready for bed.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, taking a step back. “Wha' surprise do ya have fer Hazel?”

“Cookies.”

“Who made them?”

“Carol. She dropped them off earlier before she went back to the Kingdom,” you explained, before leaning up to whisper something in his ear. “If we get Hazel to bed early enough, I'll show you what surprise I have for you.”

Daryl Dixon loves his daughter. She is his little girl and he would do anything for her, including dressing up as a princess for tea parties. He enjoys her company and wished to be in it 24/7. He'd kill anything that tried to hurt her and he'd die protecting her.

But at that moment, Daryl wanted to get her to bed and asleep as quickly as humanly possible. As much as he loved her, he had another idea of fun that involved only you, the love of his life, a bed, and no tea sets.

[cjlouwho]

Request: bucktommy + belly worship (if you're not into it, no worries <3 )

It was a comfort, more than anything. The perfect spot to rest after a rough day. The coziest place to lay his head and take a nap. Where he'd most often end up after sex, sleepy and sated and endlessly satisfied. It was great foreplay too. The noises he'd elicit with a bite and suck, followed by a lick to ease the sting.

If he wasn't resting his head there, it was his arm. Hand splayed over the softest spot in the dead center of Tommy's belly.

There didn't really have to be a reason at all. Buck just loved it.

Was fascinated by it, really. He found it a little hysterical himself. Out of all the things he could, and probably should, be focusing on in this all-new experience of being with another man, Tommy's stomach was what he was addicted to most.

Physically, anyway.

Tommy always told Buck how warm he was. How his body radiated heat in the best way. Tommy himself ran cold, so Buck was always more than happy to run a hand up under Tommy's shirt and leave it over his stomach as they watched a movie or recapped their day.

Buck loved how Tommy's stomach moved with each breath. Loved giving his abs gentle scratches with his fingertips. Loved the way Tommy got goosebumps every time.

He adored the feeling of the hair that trailed down his belly and underneath his boxers.

Couldn't withdrawal his gaze when Tommy sucked in a staggered breath as Buck licked around his navel.

Loved the way it felt to clean the cum off of him with his tongue.

“If I could superglue myself right here, I would,” Buck said one day. Tommy was laid across the couch with Buck settled between his legs. He had raised up Tommy's shirt just enough to rest his head on his belly as they watched TV.

Tommy laughed, his stomach contracting before settling once again. “Why's that?” he asked.

“S'the perfect spot,” Buck replied. He had only been lying there a few minutes, but he could already feel himself drifting. “Everybody should have a Tommy tummy.”

Tommy laughed again, and Buck rested a hand next to his head, so he could feel Tommy's belly with both his hand and his cheek.

“Sorry, hun, this tummy is into monogamy.”

“Juss for me?”

Tommy began to run his fingers through Buck's hair. “Just for you.”

Buck pressed a kiss just above Tommy's belly button, then snuggled in deeper as he let sleep take over. “Lucky me.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"We—we gotta talk 'bout somethin'," Daryl said suddenly. You had noticed that he was nervous all night, and it had you slightly on edge, but he'd been just as affectionate as he always was when the two of you were alone. Now, you were tucked in against him on the couch and his arm was around you, his finger aimlessly drawing circles on your shoulder and upper arm. At his words you straightened up and turned to face him more fully.

"Okay," you said, mustering the best tight smile you could.

"It's—s'bout The Commonwealth," he drawled, avoiding your eyes.

"Mhm," you hummed, waiting for him to go on.

He ruffled his free hand through his wavy hair and you watched a tight expression cross his face. "I think—I think I need to go there with the kids," he said finally. "And—I know ya gotta stay here to help Alexandria. I know that. But for Judith and RJ... s'the righ' thing for 'em." Finally, his blue eyes lifted and met yours and there was desperation in them. His voice came out in a tight whisper. "Please dun make me choose."

Your mouth dropped open and you hurried to clasp his face between your hands. "Oh, Daryl—hey. You don't have to choose," you soothed him. I'm not her, you wanted to say. Leah. "I think you're right," you said. He looked surprised.

"...Really?"

You nodded. "Yes. Of course. It is the right thing for Jude and RJ. There's reliable food, other kids, a school... And yes, I need to stay here for the rebuilding but—it's temporary. There's nothing to choose between. We'll make it work. We always do..."

Daryl's eyes searched your face, looking at you in vague wonder. You always made things so easy. He wasn't used to it. "What'd I do to deserve ya?" he drawled.

"Plenty," you smiled.

Prompt: "Please don't make me choose."

[toomuchracket]

joyride (sub barista!matty x reader smut)

part of summer75. if you're not into pegging, avoid. if you are, enjoy! <3

humming softly to yourself, you turn the page of your book before taking a drag of your cigarette. a faint whimper from in front of you disturbs the peaceful vibe you've cultivated for yourself; exasperated, you exhale the smoke slowly, peering over the top of the book to see what all the fuss is about. “what, matthew?”

you won't lie and say the sight of your boyfriend isn't affecting you a little bit - matty looks delectable right now, all hazy-eyed and glistening tattoos and big arms bound behind his back, pretty cock hard and leaking as he sits on the glittery purple dildo harnessed to your hips. but it's friday night, you've had the week from hell at work, and you've made it crystal fucking clear that he isn't getting anything from you until you've decompressed a little bit, regained some energy.

and yet, here he is, still being a needy little slut.

“m'sorry, i just,” he sniffles, shaking slightly. “need you, cookie, please, please.”

despite yourself, part of your resolve crumbles; he just looks so gorgeous when he begs. you sit up, and he brightens, but his face falls again a beat later when he realises you're only moving to ash your cigarette in the tray on the bedside table, another whimper following from those pretty lips of his. they kiss your palm when you softly caress your boyfriend's cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the soft skin - you might be a bitchy dom, but you do love him. “oh, my darling boy,” you coo, your voice saccharine. “you really need fucked that bad?”

matty nods, pathetic. “mhmm.”

“words, gorgeous.”

“sorry, sorry - yes,” he kisses your hand again in apology, and your heart flutters. “need you to fuck me so bad, baby, please. needed it all day.”

“and you didn't do it yourself?”

he shakes his head so furiously you fear for his neck. “no. wanted you. s'no fun without you.”

you smile. “good boy,” you lie back down, softly dragging your nails down his chest, ghosting over his length (and savouring the whine he lets out) before settling your hands on his thighs. “nothing else is as good as my cock, is it?”

“s'the best,” comes the breathy reply.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

you smirk. “show me how much you love it, then, go on. be a good little bunny and bounce on it while i finish reading, and then i'll fuck you, alright?”

“mmmkay… oh,” matty's eyes flutter as he slowly starts to ride the strap. he smiles, delirious. “thank you.”

“you're welcome, sweet boy,” you trace a heart into his thigh with your nail, and he giggles. “be good, yeah?”

“i will.”

and he is, actually - it's a struggle for you to keep focused on the last few pages of your chapter, because matty just looks so incredible fucking himself on your strap like that, but you manage it with no more begging from him. he beams when you toss the book to the side, blissful expression on his beautiful face. “hi, cookie.”

“hi, bunny,” you smile when his movements speed up at the pet name, which in turn has your hips moving slightly, desperate for some friction against your clit from the harness. “god, you look so fucking hot like that. s'turning me on,” you bring your hands up to your tits, not breaking eye contact with matty as you roll your nipples between your fingers and pinch them with a moan. he moans in reply, dick twitching, and you smirk. “like watching me touch myself, sweet boy?”

“yeah,” matty arches his back, and you assume he's just trying to angle himself better on the dildo; that is, until you feel calloused fingers brush your inner thigh. “let me touch you, too, please.”

fuck. he's perfect.

“alright,” you smile, eyes widening as he pushes two fingers inside you. “oh, baby.”

“good?”

you stroke his cheek again, sighing happily when he starts to finger you properly. “the best.”

matty huffs out a laugh, doing his best to curl his fingers inside you. the movement makes your hips jerk, sending the strap further into him, and he whines. “oh, shit, yes, please do that again.”

with a smirk, you oblige, snapping your hips up and enjoying the way his coherence crumbles with every thrust. his fingers slip out of you, but you don't mind - watching your boyfriend practically writhe on your cock and whimper garbled pleas is probably enough to get you off itself. that, and you know he'll reciprocate any orgasms you give him tenfold later. so you keep fucking up into him, biting your lip at the way his dick twitches more and more frequently, a telltale sign that matty's nearing orgasm. “bunny?”

his eyes snap open to look at you, and he croaks out a reply. “yeah?”

you grin. “can i fuck you properly to make you cum?”

matty's sex-addled brain takes a second to compute, and then his eyes widen. “oh, like-”

“missionary, yeah,” you drag your nails down his chest again. “wanna kiss my sweet boy when he cums.”

he whines. “please.”

you don't answer verbally. instead, you wink, and push your boyfriend as hard as you can until he falls backwards, quickly moving onto your knees in preparation. matty whimpers when the strap almost fully slips out of him, a whimper that turns into a guttural moan when you spit on the plastic and slam it back into him, over and over and over, mimicking the way he fucks you when he's desperate to get you off; judging from the way matty's legs shake, and the way his eyes roll back into his head with every movement of your hips, you're doing a good job.

he tells you as much, too, adoration peeking out from behind the pleasure haze in his eyes. “love you, cookie. feel so fucking good.”

“i love you,” you lean forward, fucking him even deeper as you kiss him sloppily, but oh so lovingly. “fuck, babe, i wanna make you cum so badly.”

“don't fucking stop, then,” matty murmurs against your lips. “m'so close, so fucking close. oh, shit, m'right there, right there.”

you smile against him, hand slipping down between your sweaty bodies to lightly stroke his dick. “cum for me, then, sweet boy.”

with a whimpered “fuck, fuck!”, he does just that, spilling over his own stomach and your hand with his lips pressed to yours. you kiss him sweetly, murmuring soft praises into him as you slowly pull out and lick his cum from your hand; when you move off him and the bed to undo the harness, cutting into the fat of your hips a little, matty whines, and you smile. “i'll be back in literally one second, my love.”

“hurry,” he pouts. “i miss you.”

“sap,” you roll your eyes, shimmying the harness off before working to untie the ropes binding your boyfriend's arms. “they feel okay?”

“yeah,” matty stretches as you climb back onto the bed and settle on your stomach beside him; his entire body jerks when you wordlessly take the head of his dick into your mouth and lightly suck on it, another whine leaving his lips. “baby, baby, m'too sensitive to go ag-”

“i know, sweetheart,” you coo, changing your focus to licking the cum from his stomach. “just getting you all cleaned up.”

he snorts, caressing your hair when you lay your head on his chest. “you know, there are these things called washcloths…”

“yeah, but,” you smirk up at him. “those are for people whose girlfriends aren't freaks.”

matty laughs loudly, that stupid hyena cackle of his that you love so much. “yeah, you're a freak alright,” he pulls you further onto him, kissing your nose and looking at you so tenderly you could cry. “but you're also the love of my life.”

“you're only saying that cos i pegged you.”

“nah, that's just a bonus,” he kisses you sweetly. “i love you, cookie. and i'm about to return the favour, by the way.”

“okay,” you smile against him. “i love you, too.”

[babyjakes]

if this was a movie.

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summary | your nerdy best friend is gonna make you a star.

pairing | nerd!best friend!jake jensen x reader

warnings | jakey is lowkey a perv but that's exactly how we love him. best friend!jakey except he's so down bad for reader. reader is nervous/inexperienced. filming/making porn. fingering (both holes >:^)). heavy clit focus, my beloved <3. clit slapping. squirting. praise and humiliation. so many petnames (it's jakey, duh.) me again picking a taylor title bc i have no impulse control.

word count | 1,165

an | hehe well :^) i've been thinking about nerdy bestie jakey for a while and i just thought i'd write a little something for him, i've been thinking a LOT about pornstar/director au's lately and this felt like a cute little way to enter the genre. hope you guys enjoy, please help me spread my love for jakey by reblogging!!! <3

"A-Are you sure about this, Jakey?" you ask, wide-eyed as you lean back carefully against your best friend's second-hand leather sofa. In front of you, the blonde-haired boy fiddles with his camera, trying to get the angle of the tripod just right.

Jake looks up at you through the round frames of his glasses, giving you a confident smile. "'Course I am, sweetcheeks," he promises as he finally finds a shot he likes. "Remember all those filming classes I took in high school? Looks like they're finally gonna pay off," he chuckles.

"I-I just, I don't know," you admit shyly as your friend hits record, a small red light shining to the side of the camera's wide lens. "Will people even wanna watch this sort of thing?"

Jake furrows his brow as he crouches down in front of you on the floor, reaching out a hand to rub your knee as you hug your legs up to your chest nervously. "Of course they will, cutie. You're gonna be a hit, just wait and see. Guys online will go crazy over a sweet little thing like you." He gently places a large hand over each of your knees, easing them to either side of the couch to give the camera a full view of your sheer lace panties. "These are so pretty, honey," Jake murmurs as he carefully runs a few fingers over your clothed pussy, causing heat to rise up in your cheeks as you let out a soft whimper. "Don't be nervous, sweetie. Try to forget the camera's even there, yeah? S'just you and me, I got you."

You turn your head to the side, too embarrassed to watch as your best friend continues petting you lightly over the thin strip of fabric covering your most sensitive places. "Mmm," you can hear the smile in Jake's voice as he notes, "you're already getting wet, sweetheart. Look so sweet like this, doing so good for me." He focuses a single finger to rub against the small damp patch in the center of your panties. "Right there," he sighs happily as he takes his time teasing you. "What do you say, pretty girl? Should we give your adoring audience a closer look?"

His hands come up to hook under the waistline of the undies as he gently eases them off of you. Your legs instinctually close again, but he's quick to open you back up for the camera, spreading you nice and wide as your cheeks only burn more with humiliation and uncertainty. "There," Jake coos, giving the viewers the exact shot he knows they've been waiting for. "There she is, oh my," he chuckles as he drags a finger through your leaking folds, stringing out your arousal for you and everyone watching to see. "Look at how excited you are, baby. Here, why don't we just-" his voice lulls a bit as he uses both of his large hands to spread your dripping cunt further open, his mouth practically watering at the sight. "Oh honey," he murmurs. "You've been keeping this all to yourself? What a shame, s'the prettiest little pussy I've ever seen."

Your muscles twitch as the man keeps you suspended in anticipation, just lightly manipulating your flesh this way and that to give the camera an array of angles and views, with all of you spread out so helplessly, of course. "Wanna make sure they can see everything, sweetie," he explains in a soothing manner as he pulls back the hood around your hardened bundle of nerves, giving the exposed head a quick few swipes with his finger. You gasp, jerking at the sudden burning pleasure. "Mhmm, just as I thought," the blonde observes aloud. "Already so sensitive, aren't you, cutie? You're very swollen down here, guess I'm not surprised."

Jake brings the pads of two of his digits down to begin circling over your drenched hole. "Easy, sweet thing. M'gonna stretch you open now, okay? Wanna let your fans see how tight this little baby pussy is." You let out a fluttering sigh as he coaxes his fingers into you. "That's it," he encourages you, "fuck, so fucking tight, pretty girl." He takes a moment with his fingers fully inserted, spreading them apart to let your viewers see your poor little hole being stretched as far as it can manage.

Once he's satisfied with the spectacle he's given, he begins working his fingers in and out of you, his pace gradually increasing as your legs fall further apart while you hum and moan softly to yourself. "Good, that's my good girl," he smiles as he surprises you by spitting down on your puckered asshole, earning a gasp from you as your knees tremble.

He begins teasing the entrance to your virgin bottom with the pad of his thumb, biting his tongue in concentration as you begin falling apart beneath his touch. "J-Jakey," you groan softly in humiliation, "please, I- oh!" Your protests are cut off by a strained whine escaping your lips, his thick digit having forced its way past the tight outer ring of your poor rosebud. "Jakey, Jakey," you whimper, your eyes rolling back on their own as your head falls to the side, the pressure in your tummy becoming more and more urgent.

"C'mon, cutie. Keep making those pretty sounds for me. You gonna be a good girl and cum for the camera?" All you can manage in response is a string of incoherent whimpers and whines. Jake chuckles almost cruelly at the pathetic state he's brought you to. "I'll take that as a yes. Almost there, baby. Here, let's help you out a little, huh?"

His free hand finds your clit, tugging back on the surrounding skin to expose the poor bundle of nerves as he again swipes mercilessly at it, reducing you nearly to tears as an unbearable tightness forms in your gut. "Please, please!" you pant, your hands scrambling to grip at the couch beneath you as you hurtle to the edge of your climax, well past the point of no return.

"Come on, sweetheart. Give us a big one," Jake cheers as you cry out in euphoria, your body convulsing violently as your orgasm tears through you. "That's it, that's my girl," Jake beams proudly as he rips his fingers out of you, smacking his drenched digits down against your poor exposed button to force you to squirt. Across your entire body, your skin is ablaze. Your high feels like it lasts for entire minutes before finally beginning to cease, tiny shocks and tingles shooting through your limbs as you float down, struggling to catch your breath.

Through half-closed lids, you can barely look out at the blonde-haired boy kneeling before you. He smiles gently, easing his fingers out of you as you let out a final set of jumbled whimpers. "That's my girl," he says again, reaching up to cup your cheek softly. "I just knew it. My girl's gonna be a star."

[jj-maybank-69]

oh ofc you right, a cutie patootie with a big dick. s'the best kind.

-🪻

I'm your favorite ;)

[bloodsalted]

dean's lips form a perfect 'o' when she tells him she was the one responsible for his clothes being gone. by cutting them off. there goes those pants. and shirt. oh well. lucky for him? "i have more in the car..i think my keys were in my pocket. please tell me they were." cringing, unclear if it's from pain or worry about his beloved impala, dean lets her ease him into the bathroom and sighs heavily when he flops down on the toilet seat. surprised at how much effort that took and yet how little at the same time? brows crease towards one another. he knows he felt his back give. heard the crack of his spine echo up into his ears. the fact that he's walking is a god damn miracle. not that he believes in them. but if they existed? it's because of one he's able to use his damn legs at best case? without some extreme luck and therapy that might get 'em working again.

chiropractor via metal? hey! that's a first. long as he doesn't get a bill. should charge that damn thing for being in the way of his flying body. fuck though. the more that bits and pieces come into his brain from the night, the more he swears he saw her there. but he doesn't voice the thoughts. keeps them to himself. showing up to her doorstep broken and bloody as hell is one thing. insisting he had some sorta mental breakdown while getting the shit kicked out of him and hallucinated her there saving his ass? that's what it was. like she showed up and saved him.. kicking ass right along with him? yeah that's another thing entirely.

a thumb rubs underneath one eye trying to nudge the desire to go back to sleep (and the redness from being a little freaked) til the aches and pains disappear go away. he's never been a bitch before. he's not gonna be one tonight. a little sniff (he does it when he's pulling himself together, some sorta tick--one he doesn't realize but it's there) and he uses his hand to scratch the back of his head exposing lightly bruised ribs (that should be much darker, but he's not looking and doesn't notice) as fingers sink into dirty hair.

gratefully smiling, dean nods and watches her as she readies the shower. a nagging thought in the back of his head. voice soft, quiet. there's a hint of nervous anticipation that's not left the back of his thoughts since he woke up. one of many things to be ruminating over considering the situation. "if you tell me to get lost after this? that you never wanna see me again.. i understand. never wanted to freak you out. s'the last thing i ever wanted to do. show up here. like this.." a sad smile and he lowers his hand, wincing as it settles in his lap with the back of it cupped by the palm of the opposite.

"guess i'm trying to say i'm sorry..and give you an out. if you want one." people always want one once the bullshit hits the fan. he's learned that lesson. been drilled into his head for as long as he can remember.

                               IS HE CRYING? She thinks he's about to. His eyes redden and look very moist, and she dearly hopes the painkiller she found will lessen the pain quickly. She didn't know it was that bad. She healed what she could get away with without making him overly suspicious, but clearly, it hadn't been enough if the pain brought tears to Dean's eyes. Oh, how she wants to pop up in Heaven and give Zachariah a piece of her mind. It's a terrifying, sacrilegious thought because he's her superior and she mustn't question him or his orders. Doing so is almost rebellious — and yet Castiel can't help it when she sees moisture gathering in Dean's eyes, not yet falling as tears, but awfully close.

                                His pain hurts her. She wants to push whatever grace is needed into his body to heal even the smallest bug bite. Should she reveal herself? He already knows the supernatural exists; believing in angels shouldn't be a problem for him, especially if she casts the shadow of her wings on the wall. But what if he freaks out and runs? What if he deems her one of the things he must hunt? What if Zachariah finds out she went against orders? That idea alone makes her feel queasy, nearly sick to her stomach. No; she'll subtly hasten his recovery and maybe find some better painkillers. Human medicine has come a long way. There must be pills that will make him feel nothing.

                                Shifting, Castiel puts the empty glass on the bedside table and then grabs Dean's elbow to help him to his feet. This, at least, is possible for an ordinary female human. "I cut your clothes off with the kitchen scissors," she declares, seemingly unbothered. "They were dirty and covered in blood, anyway. I can give you some of my clothes." Her vessel is way smaller than him, but she knows there are a handful of items in the wardrobe that don't fit Imani Williams. Usually, Dean brings a duffel bag of clothes, but his car is still parked at the trailer park where he hunted the vampires. Castiel should probably get the Impala at some point if she wants Dean to believe he came here on his own.

                                "Let me help you. I think a sponge bath is better than a shower. I don't want your bandages to get wet." She painstakingly learned how to apply them, after all; she doesn't want to see her work ruined within seconds. Plus, she's not sure Dean's actually able to handle the showerhead all on his own. Guiding him to the bathroom with one of her shoulders firmly wedged under his left armpit, she helps him sit down on the closed toilet seat. "There's a footstool in the kitchen we can put in the tub for you to sit on."

[toomuchracket]

freckles (ross x shy gf!reader smut)

once again, summer75. dedicated to vee cos i love her <3

your wine glass is cool to the touch, its contents even cooler when it passes through your lips. it's a nice contrast to the warmth of the night, and of ross's arm around you. to be honest, you aren't sure which is making you more lightheaded.

you watch as he takes a sip of his own wine, doing his best not to wince at the taste and failing miserably. he turns to look at you when you giggle, brow raised but eyes soft. “something funny, love?”

“no,” you try to bite back a smile, but it's impossible around him. “how's the wine? i know you don't usually drink white.”

“yeah, it's, um, it's nice.”

liar. you laugh; his eyes sparkle at the sound. “ross, i do have other drinks you can have.”

he shrugs. “but you like this one. and i want to be involved in the things you like.”

a wave of affection washes over you, another layer of warmth going straight to your head. “you're very sweet, ross.”

“well, i try,” he leans down to kiss you, long and slow and tender, smiling against you when you sigh happily. “nowhere near as sweet as you, though, baby.”

“stop,” you hide your face in his neck, slightly overwhelmed, but smile against his skin at the way he laughs and tugs you onto his lap properly. the two of you haven't been dating very long, but ross has made it through your barriers deftly and quickly, and being in his arms like this is fast becoming the safest place in the world for you. with a soft kiss to the crook of his neck, you pull back to look at him, eyes meeting his dark ones and passing all over his face when the intensity of his gaze becomes a little bit too much for you; something about his nose catches your attention. “never noticed your freckles before, babe.”

he smiles. “s'the scottish genes - that's the closest i'll get to a proper tan, those freckles.”

“shut up,” you snort as he laughs, hands coming up to tenderly touch his face. “you have them on your cheeks, too. they're pretty.”

ross blushes. like, actually blushes, and you're obsessed with it. “really?” he asks, voice more bashful than usual. “you think they're pretty?”

you nod, sincerity radiating from every pore on your body. “very pretty,” emboldened by the wine, your hands travel downwards, coming to rest on his hard chest. “can't believe i've never noticed them before. is that the only place you get them, or…?”

your boyfriend (!!) smirks. “is that a hint for me to take my top off for you to look there, love?”

“no!” you protest, heat flooding your cheeks. then you pause, looking shyly up at him. “well, unless you want to.”

a big hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. “do you want me to?”

there's silence for a second while you try to form a coherent thought, the only sounds your rapidly-beating heart and the 90s slow jams playlist ross put on an hour ago - difficult, when all you can think about is the way ross feels underneath you and the sheer want in those pretty eyes of his. inhaling slowly, you nod against his hand, exhaling shakily when his thumb passes over your lips and he speaks. “need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“yes,” you hear yourself murmur. “i want you to - want you,” and then, as an afterthought. “please.”

he laughs, leaning back against the sofa. “sweet girl. you wanna unbutton me?”

nodding, you oblige with shaky hands, fingers slipping on the plastic. “sorry.”

“that's alright, love,” big hands manoeuvre yours, undoing the buttons with ease before sliding the shirt off completely. “there we go. ready for your viewing pleasure.”

humming happily, you trail your fingers over his chest, smiling at the way he shuffles beneath you. something about the realisation of the effect you have on ross spurs you on, makes you move his hands to the hem of your top and bite your lip. “my turn?”

“you're sure?”

you nod, smiling shyly. “you can check me for freckles now.”

ross laughs, leaning in to kiss you then quickly pulling your top over your head and chucking the fabric to the side. sweetly, he smooths your hair and kisses your forehead before his gaze moves lower, onto your now-bare chest; it soon flicks back up to meet yours, though, and he smiles adoringly. “you're beautiful.”

there isn't a shred of insincerity in either his voice or his eyes. still, your cheeks burn at the compliment, and you move in for a cuddle, bare chests and heartbeats meeting as his arms close around you and your forehead meets his shoulder. muffled by his skin, you speak. “like you so much, ross.”

“i like you so much, too, love,” his hand weaves itself into your hair, softly stroking your scalp. “wanna show you just how much, if you'll have me.”

you can't stop your hips grinding down into his at that, or the soft moan that leaves your lips. “can we… here?”

ross huffs out a laugh, gently pulling your head back so he can look you in the eye; his, you notice, are sparkling. “you want me to fuck you on the sofa, sweet girl?”

fuck. you don't need to think about your answer to this one. “i do.”

“good girl,” he kisses you again, swallows the moan you let out at the praise. “will you get comfy on the couch for me, please?”

reluctantly detaching yourself from him, you sit on the cushioned seat and look up at him when he stands. you like this, ross towering over you and looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, though you'd never admit it to anyone other than him. he seems to know, though, smirking while you hungrily watch him undo his belt. “your turn in a second, love.”

“mmmkay,” you smile when his hands come up to the waistband of your skirt, undoing the buttons down the front and letting the fabric fall aside much like his shirt earlier. his lips part at the sight of your lacy pink underwear, and the sight gives you enough courage to open your legs and give him a better look. “you like?”

“i do,” ross looks mesmerised, index finger coming up to trace a line down the middle of your underwear, directly on top of your soaked core. when you whimper at the feeling, he grins. “oh, baby, you're desperate for me, aren't you?”

you're too turned on to be inhibited about it. “yeah.”

he kisses your nose, calloused hands finding the waistband of your panties. “can i take these off, please?”

“can do whatever you want to me.”

ross smiles. “but what do you want me to do to you, love? come on, tell me. tell me, and i'll do it.”

you're so turned on it hurts. voice quivering, you reply. “want you to fuck me.”

another kiss. “alright, pretty girl.”

before you can thank him, ross is pushing slowly inside you, both of your jaws dropping the further he goes. when he - after what seems like an eternity - bottoms out, your eyelids flutter closed, and you feel a hand softly caressing your cheek. “you okay, baby?”

“mhmm,” you nod, opening your eyes and smiling shyly at the gorgeous man above you. “just full.”

“need a second?”

you shake your head. “fuck me, please, ross. hard. can take it.”

“shit,” he leans down to kiss you, the chain around his neck cool against you. “well, you asked for it.”

your hands scramble for purchase somewhere, anywhere on your boyfriend's body as he starts to thrust sharply into you; one ends up clinging to his shoulder, nails digging crescents into the (freckled, it's worth noting) skin, and the other fumbles with the tie holding his hair up, throwing it into your living room with reckless abandon before rooting into the dark tresses. ross's arms are braced on the back of the sofa, his jaw is slack, and his eyes are fully trained on you, flitting between your bouncing tits and your fucked-out face as his hips slam into yours. he breathes heavily, letting out the sexiest sound you've ever heard when you tug slightly harder than intended on his hair. “fuck, baby, look at you taking me so perfectly. could stay in you forever.”

you beam, eyes rolling back into your head a little as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you - a particularly good thrust has you whining, and ross laughs and holds your thrashing legs. “feel good, love?”

smartarse. you'd glare at him if you could, but he's fucking you so well that you can't look at him any other way than adoringly. which, to be fair, is how you always look at him, but it's a lot more intense when he's inside you, above you, around you, filling you up and clouding your brain with nothing but him.

still, ross expects an answer - he touches your face again, beaming at you with an expression you can't quite place when you turn to kiss his palm. “talk to me.”

breathing shakily, you do your best to compose yourself - far easier said than done, when one of his hands sneaks inward to rub at your clit. “feel so good, so fucking good, ross.”

“i like it when you say my name,” he smirks above you, and that face alone is enough to have you teetering on the edge of orgasm. “makes me feel special.”

“you are,” you whimper, vision genuinely going a bit blurry. “only you, yeah?”

his hips snap into you even faster, eliciting a strangled scream from you; he soothes it with a kiss, surprisingly tender given the surrounding circumstances. “just me, love?” he coos, voice dripping with a uniquely sexy tone of condescension. “only me that gets to see you like this, have you like this, make you feel like this?”

“yes.”

“prove it, then,” ross pulls back, holding your legs for leverage. “cum for me, baby.”

and how could you ever refuse him?

you cling to him as the orgasm hits, whimpering into his neck until the aftershocks subside; even then, though, they're restarted by ross's own orgasm, hips stuttering as pleasure takes hold of him. “love,” he groans into your hair. “where d'you want me?”

no other place for it - “inside, please.”

“fuck, thank you,” ross pants, holding your hips flush against his as he falls apart with a guttural moan. “oh, god, i love doing that to you.”

“s'good,” you whisper, smiling as he flops to the side and pulls you onto him. he's dripping out of you, but neither of you mind - you're too busy clinging to your boyfriend like a limpet, lulled into relaxation by the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. “thank you, ross.”

“anytime, love,” he kisses your forehead. “you tired?”

“little bit. you wore me out,” you giggle. “shall we shower? can actually genuinely check me for freckles, if you like.”

“whatever you want, baby.”

[headstrongblake]

@thewholecrew: kassy & nick | all american universe

with a click of his tongue against his teeth, a gentle smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth with kassy's playful bargain. his eyes rolled, though admittedly, it could help the pounding in his head as his adrenaline began to settle. nick huffed quietly to himself, doing his best to ignore the twinges of pain associated with his skin moving as kassy began. instead, he listened to her, reaching with his free hand for the water he brought for her, taking a few sips before putting it back in front of her. a quiet hiss spilled from his lips as kassy applied the ointment eyes finally watching her as she began to explain.

he traded her for the other with one hand bandaged, turning toward her slightly as she worked. nick nodded in agreement; perhaps spinning too many lies was only asking for trouble. & after tonight, he'd need plenty of drinks to drown this christmas eve out, so too many lies would be easy to slip up. but he wasn't prepared for her ultimate suggestion. his muscles tensed beneath his clean shirt, crystal hues eyeing her as she glanced up at him. it feels risky to tell any of them anything remotely close to the truth. rev had been there when jacob showed his face the first time. fuck, he'd even involved octavia when it meant checking on his family. his head shook at all the mistakes he made in keeping his family safe. christ, he should have taken care of jacob years ago.

a slow breath released as kassy finished his hands, but he made no immediate move to find them a bottle of whiskey, instead mulling over her idea in his head. quietly, nick fished the clippers out of the first aid kit, placing it next to the water before he sat further back on the couch. "i think it worries me," he answered her truthfully with a lift of his brow. but, he already promised that he would back whatever it was that she wanted to say. tonight, kassy should never have been involved in this monstrosity. but she had been, all because of him. he owed her this much.

"octavia and rev know he was here..." nick admitted, rolling his shoulders back to pop some of the tension rising in his back. "i think you're right, no sense in comin' up with a web of lies that none of us are gonna keep straight. that's just asking for miss nosey to pick it to pieces." nick sighed, bringing his hands into his lap as he looked down at the bandages kassy carefully applied. "i think as close to the truth as possible...s'the only way im gonna feel good 'bout this," he muttered because lying to octavia on christmas no less seems like some sort of sin. "lets go with yours, something bad happened and we're not gonna make it. anyone asks for more? we can tell 'em my old man was here, they're all gonna see my hands eventually...but nothing more." he knew even if either rev or octavia were curious about what happened that if his father were mentioned, it'd be an instant drop in the matter. "no one has to know the full truth. ever."

@headstrongblake: kassy & nick. / verse: all american.

     dark eyes followed him as he put the glasses down before looking around. she waited patiently for him to sit beside her, fingers lightly tugging at the bandage wrap as he then seated himself down on the couch. "sounds good,” she answered truthfully in a quiet voice before a brow rose at the mention of drinking water. “i will if you will,” she countered in an almost playful tone. he handed her one of his hands and she got to work applying the antibacterial cream on the broken skin, fingers gentle as they worked before wrapping his knuckles with the bandage wrap secure but not too tight. at this point she’d gotten the hang of it between him, rev and octavia.

     "mhmmm…“ she answered, her gaze lifting to glance up at him briefly in between hands. he was avoiding looking at her or his hands and she couldn’t blame him. she had to almost lie to herself about why his knuckles were busted so she wouldn’t shudder at the reason. at why he’d needed to use his fists. her arm was still a little sore but it was mostly just an unnerving ghost touch of his fathers hand rather than any real pain. releasing his bandaged hand she reached out for the other with a sigh and shrug, "i don’t think we should make up a completely different set of lies…” she told him honestly, gaze on his second hand if a little nervous for her suggestion.

     "we don’t have to tell them what actually happened — we won’t, but… i don’t think it would be bad if we just tell them something… bad happened… something… bad that we don’t want to talk about.“ she wrapped the bandage around his knuckle between his fingers as she glanced up at him. "if they ask we just say…. maybe…. we were planning on roping grant into coming with us to the party when….. something happened. and we’re…. okay but… shaken up, that it won’t be fun for anyone if we show up tomorrow…” it wasn’t a far stretch from the truth even if it broke her heart knowing how devastated octavia would be, but she believed her best friend would understand. “we don’t have to give them details,” finishing wrapping his hand she held it gently with both as she looked up at him now.

     "i just think that… they’re all less likely to press for answers than if we were to make up a larger lie… and then we would then have to make sure all our answers match and it’s— it’s too much.“ kassy knew that for herself, if something happened to one of her friends and they didn’t want to talk about it she wouldn’t push. that it was most likely traumatic and her friends didn’t owe her an explanation, no matter how much she may wish for it. she exhaled a little shakily as she tilted her head, dark eyes soft and hesitant, ”….what… do you think about that?“

[thespacekettle]

mmmmmm mspaint wally doodles 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡 love my sonboy 🥰🥰

[subtotechno]

lmaooooo ender's gettin wrecked

[walledupward]

"What s'the difference between a place that you love and a place that is the best?" he asked. "And is there a level below that?" Though he asked it to poke fun at her, he was rather curious. He was almost certain there'd be some sort of ranking system in place. That or he might have accidentally set the wheels in motion for her to develop one.

Tristan rolled his eyes at her. "No shit," he said. "You know, funnily enough there s'places east of this place. And north. And south. And west. Thought maybe there were other places nearby in one of the other cardinal directions. See, that s'the benefit of living in a three dimensional world. Even if not as close as the last place, close enough that you get your pasta and I get a bathroom that s'not made for mice."

Tristan looked up as they were interrupted. He couldn't help but be annoyed, if only because he hated the idea that they might have been eavesdropped on. Sure, it was easy enough to catch snippets of other people's conversations, but that still didn't meant Tristan wasn't annoyed that someone had and had the audacity to interrupt them as a result.

Whereas Orlaith as rather thrilled with the results, Tristan opted for his response of, "I know, can you believe that fucking guy? S'a private conversation we're trying to have here."

Orlaith took a moment before answering to look affronted. "It's not an accolade I give out lightly, I'll have you know. Just because I have a lot of food places I love, doesn't mean I think they're all the best. But this," she jabbed with her fork towards the pasta, before using it to spear another piece, - "is the best." The pizza was still to be determined; she reached out and took the piece Tristan offered, setting it on the side of her plate so she could have a palate cleansing drink of water before she tried it.

"Yeah," Orlaith said, blinking at Tristan, "the place we just saw which is around the corner." He seemed determined to put that place out of his mind as much as he could. "Now, if it were up to me, I'd live with the narrow bathroom for this pasta, but—" It wasn't up to her. And as he'd pointed out earlier, it wasn't very suitable for the pets.

"We'll just have to—" We'll just have to hope there's a pasta place this good where we do find somewhere, Orlaith was going to say, but the waiter came by just then to refresh their waters, and as he poured he said, "Are you looking for somewhere to live? They're looking for someone to rent the flat above the restaurant. Well, the office is the floor above actually and then the flat, which means it's not too noisy up there. Office acts as a buffer."

He was gone before Orlaith could reply, but she wasn't in a fit state to make a coherent answer anyway. She gaped at Tristan for a moment and then said, leaning excitedly across the table, "I could live at the pasta place?" The slice of pizza lay forgotten (for now), what with the distraction.

[doctorstethoscope]

Hellooooo congratulations on 2k 🥳❤️ can we get a cute domestic blurb with the promt “running their love interest a bath after a long work day”. It can be Hotch getting the bath or reader, take it wherever you want. Make it yours!! <3333

hiiii hope you love this, thanks so much for participating!

Join my 2k celebration here!

happy to kick things off with some hotch but just a reminder that generally speaking I'm going to fill these prompts with whichever character inspires me <3

"I'm not getting in the bath," Aaron protests as the room fills up with steam, and you roll your eyes into the tub, so he can't see.

"Sure, you are," you say back easily, not backing down but doing your best not to cause an argument.

"It's fine, really. The aspirin will kick in any time now."

He'd come home late from a case and crawled into bed beside you-- but when you reached out to pull him into your chest, the muscles in his back were so tense he practically felt like stone. Enter, bath.

"Why are you so against this? You'll feel better." You admonish him.

"It's not very evolved of me," he sighs.

"What do you mean?" You ask him.

"It feels... I don't know, emasculating?" He says, disappointed in himself even as the words roll off his tongue. "I don't know, forget it. Can we just go to bed?"

"Sweetheart," you laugh. "It's not a bubble bath, we aren't lighting any candles. I just want you to feel better. Do you want me to get in with you?"

He pauses for a moment, intrigued by the idea. "Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt," he demures.

Half an hour later, he's practically asleep, lulled by the warm water and the weight of you on his chest.

"Feeling better?" you ask.

" S'the Asprin," he replies sleepily.

[early20sfailingplenty]

Can I please have a little message from Lester? I just need something comforting and maybe some love 😔 The name is Jasmine (love your work btw)

(Thank you, Jasmine!!! That means a lot! I hope you enjoy!💗)

-----

Hey, Jasmine!

M'leavin' this note fer you 'cuz I gotta get to work an' I can't be there to say good mornin' t'ya'. M'shifts start at sparrow's fart o'clock; even the sun ain't up when I get onto them roads. S'nothin' I can do about it, but it ain't so bad if I can get to anythin' on th'roads 'fore the sun bakes 'em up. Poor things ain't got defence against cars and such an' I gotta do what I gotta do.

Listen, darlin', I'on know exactly wha's goin' on, but I know you an' I know that you ain't feelin' so hot. M'sorry I can't be there for you durin' the day; y'know I'd never leave your side if I could help it. The nights are fer us, jus' you n' me n' Jonesy if Vincent don't mind us takin' 'er. Durin' the day, sweetpea, y'got these notes m'writin'; s'the best I can do.

An' now to m'point.

I know what it's like, honey, to be goin' through so much that it's like y'could scream in a crowded room and still not be heard. I get it. Y'doin' yer' best and tha's all anyone can ask. Yer' more'n y'know; even if y'think y'can't see it, I can. M'tellin' ya', darlin', y're one of th'bravest I've met in all my years workin' on these roads. I'on know how y'do what'cha do, s'amazing what I've seen you fight against and win. M'so proud o'ya, sweetpea. M'real proud.

Don't'cha ever doubt how much I love ya', yeah? Y're m'darlin' an' I'd never want'cha any other way. S'easier t'feel like I can breathe when m'wit' you.

I love you, Jasmine.

Sit tight fer me, honey, I'll be home as the sun goes down.

Yours, Lester.

[toomuchracket]

matty with a little baby boy who has curls like his attempting to teach him the guitar even though he’s just a baby and gazing up at his dad wide eyed and smiley and girlies watching from around the corner with a smile send post

oh my goodness i am weepy at this jj!! thinking about when baby alex is old enough to sit up on his own and grab things and do little else, and he's sat opposite matty on the living room floor with his little toy guitar in his hands copying matty with one of his (less valuable aka more baby-friendly) acoustics 🥺🥺 and matty's like "shall we learn some guitar, munchkin? alright. look, see how my fingers are doing this? that's a c. can you copy daddy?", cheering and going "exactly, my clever boy!" when alex moves his index finger even a smidge lmfao. like you said, he just sits so contently while matty plays and sings a little song, looking at him with those beautiful sparkly brown eyes and beaming at his dad, and matty has to do his best not to get choked up - even more so when alex starts wriggling and making grabby hands, and snuggles into matty when he goes "time for a cuddle? yeah, i think so too, al" and puts down the guitar so he can pick his boy up. alex faffs about with one of the strings of matty's hoodie, obviously sleepy, and matty just kisses his little curls like "i love you, my darling boy, love you so much. sweetest little thing. promise you'll stay like that forever, yeah? s'the best thing you can be, sweet and kind and good", murmuring softly to him until he falls asleep. again, like you said, you watched the last bit of this round the corner from the kitchen, lyla asleep in YOUR arms and your heart fuller than you think it's ever been before. adorable <3

[murderousginger]

Poison On My Lips

Peaky Blinders fanfic

Cops & Robbers Part 5

Warnings: Fluff. Steamy kisses. Touch of Angst. Drug use. Nudity. They’re criminals guys, they do bad things.

Note: This is almost exclusively pandering to myself. I blame the hormone flux. Hopefully you all enjoy. 😂

Word Count: 4,099

Tagging: @imagine-that-100​ @bellinitini​ @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me​ @theshelbyclan​ @peakascum​ @sweatydragoncloudknight​ @hrhbella​ @annaninae​​

You sat quietly in the dimming light at the foot of Tommy's small bed, looking around at the weathered striped wallpaper and the sparse decorations. You had made sure to sit far enough down so no one could see you unless they entered the room. Your hand grazed the plaid wool blanket on the bed and you took note of the wooden chair beside the nightstand next to the head of the bed to your right. 

You knew he had recently bought Polly her own house, and Ada one in London to raise her son in after Freddy's death, but he hadn't gotten around to himself just yet. Arthur and Finn still lived in the house with him, so it wasn't empty, but it was far less filled than it was before.

It was a nice enough room, but it was easy to see that Tommy barely spent time in it. This was where he went to sleep and nothing much else. He had made sure to make his bed before he left the room, likely a leftover instinct from the military. The wall across from the head of the bed was empty with remnants of the wallpaper that was stripped off, like he had hastily removed it in the night. 

There were no images of women, no books laying about, no photos, nothing to suggest he ever spent time in the room. Just a little nightstand with one drawer. A bottle of whiskey, a glass, a half used candle and an ashtray cluttered the top. You eyed the drawer, noticing that it was barely open. 

Curiosity got the better of you and you leaned over and opened the drawer the rest of the way. Small bags of brown rocks, odd utensils, and a large pipe littered the inside. Now you understood why the candle was there if he didn't spend time awake in his room. 

At that moment, you heard the door downstairs open. You moved back to your spot at the foot of his bed, but left the drawer as it was. You jumped as a loud crash erupted downstairs then sat frozen as you listened for more noise, praying that whoever was searching for you had not ventured to wreck Tommy's house next. 

Footsteps echoed on the creaky stairs and Tommy walked into his room without hesitation. He stopped beside the wooden chair as he noticed your dark form at the edge of his bed and he stilled. The silence was deafening.

"(Y/N)?" Tommy said in a soft voice. 

"S'the only place I could think," you answered hoarsely. 

You looked up at Tommy, the only light dim behind him. You realized that you couldn't see any of his features, but had known him by silhouette alone. 

"My neighbor stopped me," you continued. "Told me men claiming to be coppers were waiting in my home."

"Campbell," Tommy growled before he leaned over and lit a match to light the candle on his nightstand. Soft light illuminated the hard angles of his face as he straightened back up. 

The shadows cast dark bruises along his face that reminded you of a few weeks back when he had returned after claiming to be in London and had held business in Camden Town. 

"A boy came to us yelling about coppers flipping the Peaky girl's home," Tommy said finally, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with the candle before sitting next to you in the bed. "We've had everyone looking for you on the streets for hours."

"After killing a man, I went walking," you said lightly, but the words were bricks in your gut. "Decided to do some thinking, so I borrowed your spot."

"John told me," Tommy said gravely, inhaling his cigarette. "I didn't mean that for you, (Y/N). I didn't."

"You wanted proof, King Tommy," you said, steadily growing in hysterics. "Blood on my hands is the best sort."

"They weren't there for the death," Tommy said. "They were there because you're too close to me."

"For the murder," you corrected. 

"For the murder," Tommy said softly. "Your throat. Does it hurt? John said Wilks lifted you up by it. Gave us a scare."

"Pretty sure I'm bruised," you said, numbly reaching for Tommy's cigarette and wrapping your lips around it. 

Tommy watched but did not react. You inhaled and the harsh smoke burned your lungs. You choked, realizing you never took up smoking because you never learned to inhale. You did it again, choking on the smoke but also feeling a bit calmer. He hesitantly reached for his cigarette and brought it back to his own lips to take a long inhale.

"John said he couldn't get a good shot, so you stabbed Wilks in the leg to drop you," Tommy said, a twinge of amusement in his voice as he blew the smoke above your heads.

"Rather that than John take my head off," you said as a small smile creeped onto your face. 

"You and fucking knives," Tommy said playfully and nudged your shoulder. "Where'd you pick that up?"

"Learned a few things from Pol during the war before she sent me out running errands," you said. "Took to knives over guns. Smaller and quieter. Easy in a pinch."

Tommy hummed, finished off his cigarette and snuffed it in the ashtray. He leaned on you a moment. 

"Am I ever going to know that tattoo on your shoulder?" He asked. 

"John hasn't cracked yet?" You laughed. 

"Smug bastard won't stop taunting," Tommy said as he joined you. 

It had been so long since you heard him actually laugh instead of chuckle. It warmed your otherwise numb heart.

"Sounds like John," you said. "You'd think he'd never seen a tattoo before."

"Not on a woman," Tommy said, meeting your gaze. "Not on you."

"Shelby's aren't the only ones that can sneak," you said slyly. 

"None of that answers me," Tommy said. 

You looked down at your hands in your lap and bit your lip. Tommy softly touched the side of your neck, giving you chills. 

"Lights too low to look at the bruises tonight," he said. "Least so in this light."

"Tommy," you whispered. "If we're asking questions tonight, why do you smoke?"

His eyes narrowed at you as his hand rescinded. 

"Been smoking cigarettes most of my life at this point, (Y/N)," he said lightly, but a low currant of warning hid beneath.

"Not cigarettes," you said softly as you leaned over his lap to pick up his pipe from the drawer.

He watched you sharply but did not stop you. You ran your hand along the long pipe, looking down at it as you hovered over his lap and thought of the drugs within his nightstand. 

"Have you ever taken it with someone?" You asked shyly. 

"It's just to sleep," he whispered, shooing you gently from the drawer before closing it. "It helps with the memories."

You reluctantly sat up, the pipe now in your lap.

"What if I were to take it?" You asked quietly. "With you?"

"(Y/N)," Tommy said as he reached for the pipe but you held it away from him. "You don't need it. I won't let John or Arthur take it. It's not good. Why should I give it to you freely?"

"I'm asking you," you said simply. "Is that not enough?"

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, assessing you. 

"I killed a man today, Tommy," your voice cracked. "Can you be soft with me, just this once? Just tonight?" 

He eyed you frozen to his spot as he wetted his lips. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a beat before looking back to you. His eyes were rounded and his shoulders dipped. He reached for the pipe with an exhale. This time, you let him take it. 

"This doesn't close the door on any of it," Tommy said, although you weren't sure if it was to you or himself. "This won't fix the thoughts. Only runs the shadows off for a night."

You nodded slowly as he leaned back to the drawer and started readying the pipe. You watched his intent expression as he started his ritual. Tommy blocked you out --blocked the world out-- and the only thing important was right there in his lap. 

As he started putting everything away, and the pipe was ready for fire in his lap, he finally looked up at you and hesitated. 

"Just--" he started. "Let me lead. It'll make you relax. You'll have to trust me."

"I've always trusted you, Tommy," you said.

He nodded, picked up the pipe and placed it over the candle and watched intently. He took it off and settled his lips over the opening, inhaling deeply. You watched him hold the smoke for a moment before he leaned his head back and blew it out. 

You watched him visibly soften in front of you. His face slacked as he watched the smoke above him disappear. His shoulders completely rounded as the invisible rod in his back released. He leaned down for another inhale. 

This time, he seemed to remember you were beside him. He held the smoke in his mouth and placed his pointer finger under your chin and guided your face closer to his. Butterflies fluttered in your chest but you let him guide you so close you were nearly touching lips. 

You looked from his lips to his eyes, your lips slacked as his hand circled your jaw and pressed his fingers into the sides of your face until you opened your mouth slightly wider. He exhaled the smoke directly into your mouth and you inhaled his breath instinctually, feeling the smoke enter your lungs and spread a warmth through your body faster than any whiskey ever had. He let your chin go and you closed your eyes.

You understood why people liked it immediately. You felt it go straight through your body and you let it, all of your thoughts and tensed muscles fading into the haze. You floated. You felt Tommy shuffle beside you and heard him inhale one more time before you felt his hand on your neck. You heard the pipe rest on the nightstand with a gentle clang. He pulled you toward him by your neck and you kissed him as he exhaled into your lungs again and you breathed him in. 

His lips were plush against yours and he didn't stop you from kissing him like you thought he would. In fact, he pulled you closer. The smoke creeped out of the corners of your mouths as you turned your body to face him and melted into his touch. His hand stayed on the back of your neck as the other caressed your jaw with his thumb. After a long moment, he pulled back and held you away from following him. 

You opened your eyes, watching the stillness of his face as he opened his eyes to watch you half-lidded. 

"Right," he whispered, wetting his lips. "You should be feeling--"

"Very good, yes," you interrupted, pushing against his hold to kiss him again. 

The feeling of his skin on yours was electric. The haze around you made the contact feel so much more.

"(Y/N)," Tommy said as he half-heartedly tried to hold you back but you pushed again and kissed him. 

You felt Tommy growl into your kiss and you shuddered, hand rising to meet his face. He kissed you back forcefully, and you moaned into his mouth. He immediately ripped you away. Your eyes snapped open to see a very frustrated Tommy.

"(Y/N)," he warned, "A man's only got so much self control."

"You're not a man," you laughed, a smirk on your lips. "They call you the Peaky devil."

"Read somewhere that well fed devils behave better than famished saints," he said as he smirked back at you and released his hold. 

You both watched each other for a long moment until your confidence started to fall. 

"Are you well fed, Tommy?" You whispered, leaning back from him and running a hand through your hair. 

"I'm fucking starving is what I am," he said in a breath and grabbed you around the waist to pull you to him, flipping you onto your back on the bed to press you down into the blankets as he devoured you. 

Your teeth hit his when you collided, but it didn't slow either of you down. His hands immediately began roaming, groping and pulling at you. You squirmed, overwhelmed by the contact as you kissed him in hopes to be completely consumed by him. 

He pulled away and watched you, drinking in what you looked like beneath him, hair disheveled, lips swelled pink, and eyes hazy in the dim candlelight. 

"You could ruin me," Tommy said softly as he tumbled to your side in the small bed. He rubbed his face with a sigh.

"I'm just a foot soldier," you said. 

"Be soft, you said," he whispered as he exhaled a short breath, eyes still covered, "I stopped seeing Lizzie, (Y/N), after the party--"

"Tommy, I--" you interrupted as you turned to him. 

"I know you're closest with John--"

"Tommy--"

"And you ran with him before I told you about Esme--"

"Tommy--"

"And I'm older than you--"

"I'm a virgin, Tommy," you frustratedly spat out before he could stop you. "I didn't sleep with John, because I haven't slept with anyone."

"You didn't--" he started as he dropped his hands and rolled to face you.

"No," you huffed, arms instinctively hugging yourself, "When the war came, the men left. Those that stayed were old, young, or not interested in a Shelby cast off."

"But none of us--"

"There were rumors, Thomas," you said with a sniff, "That was enough."

"Don't call me that," he pleaded. 

He reached for your cheek and you flinched. He hesitated but reached out for you again.

"Tommy sings from your lips," he said, running his thumb over your lips. "Thomas is a curse."

You kissed his thumb before he parted your lips and you grazed your tongue along it. You locked eyes with him and watched his eyes ignite as he looked at you beneath him. 

"Not tonight, love," he whispered. "Not with the opium muddling your thoughts."

"You muddle my thoughts," you shot back with a sigh. "Fine, then better pour the whiskey."

Tommy smiled.

"That, I can do," he said. 

----

Tommy had to go find another candle once the candle on the nightstand burned low. He came back with a couple of them, lighting them all to make a bit more light in the room as you both shared the glass to drink the whiskey. Tommy smoked a bit more opium once the haze faded away as the night went on. He kissed the smoke into your lungs to share his high.

The night felt absolutely invincible. The only people in the world were you two in his room. No cares, no thoughts, only there. Only then.

You both laughed and chatted on the bed, bantering back and forth along the way. You had somehow moved to a position of Tommy sitting on the bed, his back to the headboard, and you between his legs cuddled into his chest. You both were facing his bare wall and he had wrapped his arms around you to whisper something playfully in your ear when you had reached up to cup his face in your hand. 

"Tommy," you giggled, looking at the wall in front of you. "What happened to the wallpaper? It looks like you ripped it down."

Tommy rested his chin on your shoulder as he hummed. 

"I did rip it down," he said as he quieted, staring at the wall closely as he hugged you to him tighter. "Some nights I hear them digging. It was so loud one night I had to be sure."

"Is that why you do it?" You asked. "Why you smoke?"

Tommy hummed in agreement before he kissed your cheek. 

"It doesn't always work," he said softly. "But it's been quiet with you here."

You looked ahead at the wall and tried to imagine what Tommy heard, the digging and clinking noises of metal on rock. The fear. You shuddered.

"None of that now," Tommy whispered into your ear, giving you new chills for an entirely different reason. 

A comfortable silence passed between you. 

"I should make a bed," Tommy said, cutting the quiet. "Downstairs. You'll take this one. I'll get you one of my shirts to sleep in."

"Don't leave me, Tommy," you said, gripping his arm as he nudged you to sit up. "Not tonight."

Tommy sighed as he leaned you back against him. 

"You're bloody stubborn," he mused.

"I'd still like that shirt," you answered playfully. "Maybe you'd glimpse my tattoo in the process. As a reward."

"You'd test the devil himself," Tommy breathed. 

"What do you think I'm doing now?" You teased, leaning forward and glancing over your shoulder at your zipper. 

Tommy raised a brow, his arms unwrapping around you. He reached and slowly unzipped your dress, letting your skin peek through the opening. You slacked your shoulder and the dress fell down your arm, revealing a horse tattoo. Tommy's eyes were enraptured by your shoulder, his fingers shamelessly tracing over it. 

"Now I get it," he breathed before pressing his lips to the horse on your shoulder and closing his eyes. 

He nuzzled your bare shoulder and inhaled your scent before he kissed it again and leaned back. 

"I've one more," you said, "but it's a bit harder to show."

"Worried about modesty now?" Tommy teased, pulling you back into his chest as he buried his face into your hair. 

"You tell me not to test you, and then you beg for testing," you laugh. "Which is it?"

Tommy let you go with a laugh, arms wide away from you. 

"I'll not touch you unless you want it," he said as he watched you sit up and turn around to face him. "How about that?" 

"Show me your tattoos first," you said shyly. "I know you have them."

"I've just the one," he said as his hands dropped and he pulled his shirt off, throwing it in his lap before his hands returned outstretched to his sides. 

You eyed the sun on his chest. You squirmed in your seat with the urge to touch it. You finally gave in, hesitantly reaching out and running your fingers over it. Tommy watched you and smiled. 

"And yours?" He said with a raised eyebrow. 

You looked up through your eyelashes at him and hesitated before you mustered up your courage and dropped the front of your dress and slip. 

Tommy's eyes widened as he saw your breasts, and his eyes narrowed when he realized in between them on your breastbone was a tattoo of a bullet. You both froze for a moment, and you became more self conscious as time passed. You reached for his shirt in front of you, slipping it over your head as you stood off the bed to step out of your dress. 

"I knew this was a bad idea," you muttered as you paced. "I'll go sleep downstairs. I'll --"

"(Y/N)," Tommy said and stood from the bed and grabbed your wrist. "Listen to me." 

"No that was--"

"Why do you have a bullet with your own name on it on your chest?" Tommy said quietly as he pulled you into him. 

"Because no one's allowed to break my heart but me," you said fiercely as you looked into his eyes.

He smiled before he kissed you softly. You immediately melted into him. 

"It's stupid," you whispered as you pulled away, losing steam. "Stupid thoughts of a stupid girl." 

"No," Tommy rumbled. "It's a good reminder. I'm glad I know it. It's fresh."

"Just healed," you laughed mirthlessly before looking down to the floor. Anything to get away from his blue eyes.

Silence. Tommy touched your shoulder before he cupped your cheek. 

"Let's be off to bed, then, yeah?" He said softly. 

"Yeah," you sounded.

----

Finn burst through the door at first light, making you both jump. Tommy held you to his chest as he reached for the nightstand.

"Tommy Tommy we still haven't found (Y/N)--" Finn started before skidding to a halt right in front of the bed. He eyed you clinging to Tommy's bare chest, Tommy's hand around your bare back. At some point in the night, you had overheated and thrown off Tommy's shirt but continued to cuddle with him, enjoying the skin contact. The high and the whiskey had made touch all the more enjoyable in the haze of your mind.

"Fuck off, Finn," Tommy said as he grabbed the ashtray on the nightstand, arm still holding you to his chest. 

"Why've we been searching all night if she's here?" Finn cried. 

"FUCK OFF, FINN," Tommy yelled and threw the ashtray at Finn's head, narrowly missing the teen as he ducked out of the room. 

You heard Finn huff on the stairs. 

"Oy, (Y/N)'s with Tommy upstairs," he yelled, presumably to the other brothers. 

"'Fuck off, Finn.' No one ever fucking respects me," he huffed loudly as he stomped down the stairs. 

Tommy held you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as you both chuckled. You hid your face in his chest and basked in the stillness for a moment. 

"Tommy," you said, raising your head from his chest to look into his eyes, "we should go downstairs to meet them. Tell them the search is over." 

His arm pressed you to him and he caressed your cheek for a moment. 

"I suppose you're right," he sighed softly.

You rolled off of him to let him swing his legs out of bed. You clung the sheets to your breasts as he went to his dresser and grabbed some clothes. 

"Here," Tommy said, throwing you a button up shirt and a pair of britches, "You can wear these home. Better than last night's dress."

You smiled, gathering the clothes and scooting out of bed to put them on. You swam in his clothing, but it smelled of him. You gathered your dress and folded it, holding it in front of you as Tommy touched your face and gave you one last kiss before leading you downstairs. You could feel his walls rebuilding with every step. He would be Thomas Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders, by the time he reached the bottom. Your night of being soft was done.

You both stopped at the foot of the stairs to see all three brothers about the kitchen area. Arthur and Finn were sitting at the table, and John looked like he had been pacing. You noticed the table was bare, but things were strewn across the floor. That must have been the noise before Tommy walked upstairs last night.

"(Y/N) was here when I arrived home," Tommy said, looking to each of his brothers. "She was in no condition to be left alone, so I didn't put out the call to stop the search."

"Of course you didn't, Tom," Arthur said through gritted teeth. 

"Looked to be naked when I walked in," Finn mouthed. 

"Finn, shut up," Arthur chastised.

"Is that how it is?" John said, pacing with his head down. 

"You might've seen the horse," Tommy taunted, "but I bet you never saw the other one. Not in that dark water late at night."

John flew at you both. He was across the room in a stride.

"We were looking all night!" John bellowed as he raised his fist and cracked Tommy's jaw, making him fall to the ground.

You immediately dropped to your knees with a shriek to see to Tommy, who looked up at John in shock as his tongue licked blood from his teeth. Your head whipped between the two men. They shared a look that you couldn't decipher. John looked at you broken before he shot Tommy a venomous glare and pointed at him. 

"Again, Tommy?" He said as his voice cracked and he lost steam. "A-fucking-gain?"

John stormed out of the house and slammed the door. Finn raised out of his seat to chase after him, but Arthur pulled him back down. 

"It's not for you to go after him," Arthur said as he looked over to you both pointedly. 

"Let him go," Tommy said, working his jaw. "Let him cool off first."