#the caps were so much more satisfying to open with the glass ones! and they held much more juice inside

[koifsssh]

Has Rainy ever tried…coffee?

hahaha! what a funny thought!

as someone who is usually half-minded and sleepy, i imagine being so awake is sort of disorienting for him. A clear head is something he's not used to! I don't think they'd know what to do with themself to be honest!

Perhaps they would engage more in Sally's play's or Julie's games, whatever their neighbors fancy!

I think the taste they would like, but i'm not sure if they would like how it makes them feel...

[sometimesanalice]

Give Me Your Hand {Here Is My Heart}

Summary: You and Bradley have been dating for a couple months now. You want him and he wants you. And it’s getting harder and harder to keep your hands off of him. So what is holding you back?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 9K

Warnings: Fluff, Pining, and Smuttt

(This will be a 2-Part series for characters in the “Like I Can” Universe. It can be read without reading the original series first.)  PART 2

You’ve seen Bradley’s thick, wavy hair in various stages throughout your life. He has a little cowlick tuft in the back that would always pop up if it was cut too short. You’d seen it in high school when he used a little too much product like most boys did at that age. You’d seen it smashed and sweaty from being trapped under a baseball cap for too long.

However, for all the ways you’ve seen it over the years, his hair mussed by your own hands is easily one of your very favorite looks on him.

There is an open bottle of some random red blend you had picked up from the grocery store on the table, you had been more drawn to the label than what was inside of it. Your glasses were mostly untouched, the only clue about whose belonged to who was the imprint of your lower lip left behind on the rim from your lipstick that’s long worn off from your mouth.

And you are straddling Bradley’s denim clad lap enthusiastically making out on his probably-from-Ikea-but-still-very comfortable dark gray couch. The short skirt of your flirty little ruffled red dress sliding higher and higher up your thighs with every movement.

Your hands are undoing what minimal styling he had done to it before you had gotten to his place that evening, while his large ones are everywhere. Traveling the length of your back, squeezing your hips, running over the outsides of your calves. 

It has been almost a couple of months since you had been set up by the Daggers on those truly terrible dates. At the time it seemed like a fun idea to go on all those blind dates, until it wasn’t. 

That is, until Bradley. Being with him had made it all worthwhile. 

There have been plenty of dates since then. Nights out. Nights in. Nights spent laughing at the Hard Deck with his friends. But they all end the same. With Bradley kissing you goodnight. 

In the Bronco.

At your door. 

At his. 

You haven’t stayed the night, not once. Not even after the time where you both fell asleep tangled on his couch. You had woken up it find it was nearly 3 A.M, and even then you still made it a point not to cross the threshold into his bedroom. Even though you wanted to.

The way his mouth is moving against yours is nothing short of sinful. He is so good at making you breathless. So good at making you blush. Having him like this is more than you ever thought you’d get, its deliciously thrilling being the one to pull the low moans and satisfied sighs from him. 

It is almost too easy with Bradley. You’d never let yourself think about forever at this point in a relationship with anyone else. He made it so difficult for you to keep your head on straight when he looked at you with such dizzying adoration. 

It was getting harder and harder not let yourself think about Bradley being the one for all of your last-firsts. Even as you tried to take things with him day by day, moment by moment.

How that evening out on the outdoor terrace could have been your last-first date. That pretty green dress you’d worn, now tucked away in your closet protected in its garment bag, felt special in a way you weren’t sure you were ready to look at too closely.

How that kiss against his Bronco in the parking lot near the beach afterwards could have been your last-first kiss.

How whenever you mustered up the courage to finally give yourself to him entirely that it could be your last-first time.

But one of you had to be the practical one. One of you has to keep their feet on the ground because the other literally as his head in the clouds on a daily basis. You felt constantly at war with bullet pointed logic of your mind and the whatifwhatifwhatifs of your heart.

When Bradley dropped you off back at your car after your post-oceanside-dinner-milkshake-run, he asked you out again for the next weekend. Claimed he wanted you to have a second first date with him, even though you both already were planning on meeting your friends at the Hard Deck the very next night. 

His smile had been so sweet and his eyes so sincere there was no way you were going to turn him down. Even if you didn’t think you needed a second first date with him when the first had been one for the books. 

Bradley’s burning lips work their way down your neck. His hand at the base of your neck keeping you exactly where he wanted you. The delicious drag of his mustache along the sensitive skin of your throat makes your toes curl. His hot mouth sucking softly at your pulse point before laving it with his tongue. Can he feel how fast your heart is beating?

For your second-first date, the only feeling that had been coursing through you that day had been pure excitement knowing it would be Bradley knocking on your door. 

And when he picked you up, he arrived with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and a bottle of your favorite champagne in the other.

There was an undeniable giddiness that evening, but also a tentative shyness between the two of you as you sat across from each other at one of the many seafood restaurants that dotted the boardwalk. The table had felt almost too big, since the two of you were both a little too in your heads. 

“Why did it feel easier last time-”

“I feel like I’m on an interview-”

After a couple awkward stops and starts, you both just looked at each other and had to laugh about it. It was better when you moved your place settings and slid into the spot next to him. When his leg nervously bounced under the table, you were close enough to rest a hand on his thigh. 

“Have I told you how pretty you look?”

“Only a few times now,” you replied as you nudged his foot with yours, “But I like hearing it.”

And then slowly but surely the nerves and awkwardness melted away as you two settled into the familiarity of each other. You did call him “Rooster” a couple times on accident, and he ended up almost telling you the same story twice before he realized it halfway through the second time. But it was a comfortable kind of bumbling as you explored the newness of this part of your relationship together.  

Afterwards, he had suggested taking a walk along the beach, you’d readily agreed at the thought of the sand beneath your toes and your fingers tangled between Bradley’s.

You didn’t walk very far before a large canopy made entirely out of thousands of string lights caught your eye. The area was roped off on the beach halfway between the boardwalk and the ocean waves. People were already milling about, some brave souls already dancing away as the final rays from the sunset illuminated them in a golden red light. 

“C’mon, kid,” he’d said already tugging you along with him by the hand, “Let’s check it out.”

“Bradley, I don’t know. This looks like some kind of private event.”

It didn’t click until he was pulling out his phone with the tickets already pulled up and ready to be scanned that he had planned it all along. 

“I’ve always wanted to go to one of these,” you told him with a grin on your face as you waited in the line to exchange your shoes for a pair of light up headphones.

“Have you now?” He was looking very pleased with himself as he slid an arm around you, tucking his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

“I thought you said you were done with surprises,” you asked teasingly, smoothing down the front of his Hawaiian shirt. Enjoying the way his stomach tensed beneath your hand. 

“Now, where the fun in that? I think I like surprising you,” he murmured into your ear.

When you made your way to the front, he slipped the headphones over your ears before pulling you to the side, bending down to roll up your jeans a bit and then doing the same to his. 

The sand was still warm for the sun under your feet, and the twinkle lights were picking up the golden strands in Bradley’s wavy hair. He was so handsome and he was all yours tonight.

The two of you had the best time as you bounced around between stations, the colors on your headphones changing from blue to red to green as you told the other one to change over whenever a familiar song came on as the inky night settled around you.

You had danced with Bradley plenty of times of the years, like at school dances and at your mom’s second wedding. However, it was always the goofy and fun kind of dancing between friends. Where he would spin you until you were doubled over in laughter or where you’d compete to see who could pull out the most ridiculous moves.  

His fancy footwork and carefree exuberance still amused you to no end, but it was also the good kind of different the way he wrapped his arms around you from behind. You’d felt a good kind of free in the way you let your hips move against him without overthinking it. It was the good kind of exciting the way he feathered kisses down the side of your neck when the music playing through the headphones slowed down.

The two of you moving in sync and touching each other in ways you haven’t indulged in before, a little sweaty and out of breath. You had never felt so truly lighthearted and uninhibited as you did as you danced the night away with Bradley, as he shimmied with you, as he twirled you about, as he held you close. 

By the end of the evening, your cheeks were hurting from the wide smile that hadn’t left your face once the whole night. 

And there was no hesitation in the way you pulled his face to yours as people danced around lost in their own moments on the beach under the twinkle lights and moonlight that night. As you got lost in him.

The rough denim of his jeans between the soft skin of your thighs has you desperate to move against him for more. His fingers are playing with the frilly chiffon fabric of the red dress you bought forever ago and completely forgot about in your closet. You wanted to be as bold as the color you were wearing, to take the lead and slide his hands up your dress to where you both really wanted them to be. Instead you trail your lips long the strong line of his jaw, reveling in the way he sighs your name.

The next date you had planned. 

And the only thing you had told him about it was what time he should expect to be picked up. 

At the time he’d grumbled something about his mom raising him as a gentleman and that meant always picking the girl up. To which, you had retorted that Carole told you not to take nonsense from any man, and that included her son. Phoenix had clicked her glass with yours at that.

Bradley was notoriously bad a keeping a secret, excluding when he had planned that first date, but he was even worse when he was the one being kept in the dark. Needless, to say you thoroughly enjoyed teasing him that whole week before your next date.

And if he ran his hands more over your body as he tried to get you to give him even the smallest of hints, you couldn’t say you minded. 

You’d stopped by his favorite deli on you way home from work and ordered a couple of those giant sandwiches that were piled high with all the cold cuts and too many toppings, along with a few containers of different sides to round out the meal. Your fridge had been stocked his favorite beer from your last grocery run, so you’d grabbed a few cans of those and some sparkling waters and put those in your cooler basket with the other sweet treats you had already bought before you’d quickly changed and left to go pick him up.

You’d barely had the car parked in his driveway of his condo before he was opening the door and throwing his large body in your car.

“It’s not too late to let me drive, kid,” he’d said in greeting, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You really liked this part, the casual physicality of his affection. You liked it a lot.

“Oh please, you just want me to tell you what we’re doing,” you countered, as you backed up and pulled on to the main road. “Plus, I don’t see what your problem is. I drive you around all the time when the Bronco is getting a tune up.”

“Yeah, but only when it’s in the shop. I am physically pained to be in a Honda Civic,” he complained, as he shifted from side to side and moved the seat back trying to get more comfortable. Ever the drama queen.

“Hey, it’s a hybrid! I’m saving the planet,” you lobbed back at him, “How much fuel does your F/A-18 go through?” 

“It’s boring.” There was no missing the derision dripping from the word.

Such a little car snob.

“I think you mean it’s practical,” you replied primly. “I’m not going to apologize for having a car from this century, Bradley.”

“Is it even safe to be this close to the ground?” he groused as he looked at you from over the top of his sunglasses. 

“Well, my lease on this is up soon and I have been thinking about getting an all-American whip,” you paused for a moment as he perked up at the idea of that, “Do you think I would look cute in a Jeep?”

The taunt landed just the way you hoped it would when he groaned and clutched his heart.

“My girl is not driving a Jeep. That’d be like sleeping with the enemy!” he dramatically bemoaned, “The Bronco would stall out of spite knowing you’re driving the competition.”

You hoped he didn’t catch the way you’d clamed up. How your hands had tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles standing out in contrast against the paper-thin skin there.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t slept with someone on the first date before. And while you knew it was a matter of when and not if, you were still having a hard time wrapping your brain around the fact that you would be having sex with Bradley Bradshaw.

But there was fucking and then there was whatever this was. 

It already felt different with him than anyone else you’ve dated before. It felt like it would mean more with him and you couldn’t pretend you weren’t anxious about it.

This was Bradley.

Bradley.

Who had always made it to your tennis matches wearing the t-shirt he had made that boldly sported your last name across his chest after you had complained that the boys’ teams always better funding and therefore got better apparel. He was always the loudest person in the stands, except for your moms when they overdid it on the Sauvignon Blanc.

Bradley.

Who had always sent you your favorite kind of flowers to be delivered on your birthday and never failed to FaceTime with you regardless of where he was in the world or what time it was where he was stationed.

Bradley who was looking so handsome next to you in your practical Honda Civic wearing a snug light blue button up shirt and smelling really good. Woodsy with the tiniest hint of citrus.

With his tousled sun-lightened curls and warm brown eyes. His strong, sturdy nose. That mustache that had no right to look so perfect on his face. You’d liked every version of him you’d know throughout your life, but this one next to you? You lo--

“Light’s green, sweet girl.” He was wearing that little half smirk of his. The one that was entirely too knowing, and that looked entirely too good on him.

You had blinked at him a few times before you had realized you’d been completely caught checking him out. And it wasn’t until the car behind you honked that you were startled out of your Bradley filled mental wanderings.

Thankfully you were saved from further jokes at you or your car’s expense as you pulled into the parking lot of the library, happy for the distraction from your earlier thoughts.

“Do you have some books you need to return?” he asked a bit perplexed, his eyebrow knitting together. 

“Nope,” you answered. Sending him a smug wink as you reached over to click the button to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

He wasn’t the only one who could plan a surprise in this relationship. 

And in the midst of your self-satisfied musings, you had somehow missed the way he had rounded the car until his big hands were on your waist. Then he was turning you around and crowding you against the side of your very practical car.

“This ok?” he rasped questioningly against your ear, stroking your side.

You nodded rapidly. All words had escaped you the second he had pressed his broad, hard body against yours.

It was a miracle you didn’t drop the basket in your hands when his mouth collided with yours, his lips leisurely gliding over yours. You were still getting use to the sensation of his rough mustache on your delicate skin, but you liked the feel of it. 

You liked everything about him.

He pulled away after a few moments, nudging your cheek with his nose, “Hey, you good?”

There was a moment when you thought that maybe he had noticed the way you’d froze in the car when he had made that joke. He knew you so well, but even that felt like a stretch.

“Just peachy,” you replied, as you leaned in for another quick peck. But just as you tried to pull away, he tugged you back in.

“’m not done kissing you yet.”

“Bradley, come on,” you laugh breathlessly, the grin on your face derailing any further plans he had for your mouth. 

“Or, hear me out,” he mused, as he trailed a finger down your arm, until he reached your hand to take the basket from you, “We can make out against your car. Seeing as we’re already very good at that.”

“Nuh-uh.” You shake your head at him. “There will be no more making out.”

“At all?” he coaxed. His thumb sneaking under your top, stroking the skin above your hip.

“For the next couple of hours,” you amended. “Are you going to be trouble?”

“Only the good kind, I promise.” He was wearing that cheeky smile that always left you feeling a little flustered. Threading your fingers together with his free hand, he gestured for you to lead the way. 

You pulled him along with you as you followed the other groups of people who were making their way the same direction around to the back of the library where the large section of grassy lawn was located. 

“Last chance, you sure you don’t want to go make out in the stacks?” he teased as you passed by the entrance, giving you a heated once over, “You always were such a good girl in school, Miss Valedictorian.”

It made your cheeks warm at both the idea of him pressing you against the shelves and from him calling you a good girl. And you were almost tempted to let him have his way. To let him pull you out of the line you were waiting in in favor of finding out what his mouth tasted like in some quiet, dusty corner of the library. 

“Behave, this is an all ages event,” you reminded him, and yourself. He held up his three fingers in Scout’s promise. But you knew better, recognized what that smirk he was wearing meant, so you met him half way, “If you’re good, maybe we can do that for our third date.”

You had felt your pulse radiate through your whole body when he leaned in close and murmured, “I can be good for you.”

A pointed cough jolted you both out of the moment, you had been so wrapped up in him that you had completely missed that the line had moved. Muttering a sheepish Sorry, you tugged a shameless Bradley along with you to catch up with everyone else. 

When you made it to the front of the line, he tried to fish out his wallet before you could reach yours to pay the suggested entry donation fee. The volunteer chuckled as you tossed the blanket you were carrying at your troublesome date’s broad chest. And then you handed over the cash you had withdrawn from the ATM earlier in the day, plus a little more.

You were a patron of the literary arts, after all. A humanitarian with a point to prove. This was your date you had planned for Bradley, you would be the one sweeping him off his feet tonight.

The big screen they had set up gave it away, but you refused to tell him what movie was playing that evening even as he made guess after guess as you wove your way around people to find an unoccupied spot in the grass.

You kept him busy by having him smooth out the blanket until there were absolutely no wrinkles, and then distracted him with all of his favorite goodies as you unpacked them out of your cooler bag. Thankfully, it wasn’t too much longer before the event’s coordinator was welcoming everyone since you had run out of PG-rated ways to keep Bradley diverted without spoiling the evening’s featured film.

When the opening credits had started rolling for Singin’ in the Rain Bradley had turned to you, his wide grin lighting up his whole face. 

“I love this movie,” he said excitedly.

You smiled back at him indulgently, as if you didn’t already know that. However, you still had felt very pleased with yourself that he was so thrilled as you passed him one of the massive, overly filled sandwiches along with a beer. 

You had forgotten to pack some extra plates to put the sides on, so you and Bradley passed the containers of creamy potato salad, tangy coleslaw, and cold tomato salad back and forth. Occasionally feeding the other bites in between watching Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor’s antics on screen. 

A little while later, the two of you had cozied up on the blanket, the leftover food pushed off to one side. Bradley had pulled you into the space between his legs, encouraging you to rest your back against his sturdy chest. You had never felt as perfectly content as you did sitting there wrapped up in his arms sharing a bag of gummy bears and the other boxes of movie candy you had packed as the warm California breeze washed over you.

You had been surrounded by families and other couples, but the way he rested his chin against your shoulder and hummed along with Gene Kelly singing “You Were Meant For Me” was for your ears only.

There isn’t anything in this world that feels as good as Bradley’s wet lips sliding over yours. Nothing as exciting as wondering where his hands will roam to next on your body. Nothing as devastating as when he teases down the strap of your dress off of your shoulder with his nose as his mouth purposefully works along your collarbone.

Ever the gentleman, he’s never pressured you, or even brought it up. You know he is waiting for you to make the move, to let you be the one who sets the pace. To let him know when you’re ready to take that next step with him.

And you want to. You really want to. Even now, you can feel how enticingly hard he is beneath you as you moan into his mouth. 

You know that you’re the one holding you back. 

The one holding the both of you back. 

And you know exactly why.

The closest you two even got to toeing that line into something more was the night you got back home after spending a few days on the East Coast for a work trip. 

Bradley had wanted to pick you up from the airport, but you were getting in late and didn’t want him to lose out on the sleep that he needed to stay safe doing his job. He only let it go once you had promised him you would text him when you landed and got home in one piece.

You had been getting ready for bed after showering off the plane from your body, slipping on an old shirt you had recently rediscovered buried in the back of your dresser when your phone had lit up. And you really shouldn’t have been surprised to see Bradley’s name on your screen well past 2 A.M, but your heart still fluttered seeing his name pop up.

“Yes, Bradley?” you answered with a playful lilt in your tone. 

“Hi, kid,” you could hear the soft smile in his voice, “Did you make it home ok?”

“I did, but what are you still doing awake? You’ve got that new training program that starts tomorrow, and roosters aren’t known for being nocturnal creatures.”

“She’s got jokes, ladies and gentlemen,” he deadpanned flatly before tentatively continuing, “You said you were going to text me when you landed. But my phone has been suspiciously silent.”

You didn’t know if that swooping sensation in your stomach had been from feeling like you’d let him down or from the fact that he was calling you this late because he was worried about you. That he had stayed up wanting to hear from you because you mattered to him. You that you were in his 2 A.M thoughts. 

“I figured you’d be asleep, and I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted self-consciously as you puttered around you room, putting away a few of the things from your suitcase.

And it had been the truth. You had typed out a message when you were waiting in the ride share pick up area with your carry on, but ended up deleting it not wanting to bother him or disturb his sleep. 

“Nah, you’d never bother me. I was waiting to hear from you. Wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways, not with you being flown around by some random pseudo-captain airline pilot wearing a pair of wings with a brand logo on it.”

The men you had dated in the past had always said the same thing without really meaning it, sending halfhearted thumbs up when you’d let them known you got home after a date or landed safely after a work trip. But Bradley wasn’t like those men, he truly meant the things he said because he cared.

“Not the branded wings,” you teased, before softly saying, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good, sweet girl. I’m just happy you’re home. You free dinner tomorrow? I want to hear all about your trip.”

“For you? Yeah, I think I can clear my schedule.”

“Good,” he said contentedly before pausing for a moment, and you heard rustling on the other end of the line, “So, what are you wearing?”

You burst out laughing, as you finally crawled into your soft bed, grinning wildly, “Bradley Bradshaw, you did not just ask me that!”

“What?” he asked innocently, his chuckle giving him away. “How about this, you tell me and I promise to never bring up the fact that you have contributed to any prematurely gray hairs that might have sprung up in the last few hours.”

“A silver fox Bradley Bradshaw?” Now that was something you were very much looking forward to seeing one day, “Be still my heart.”

“Chances are you won’t have to wait long,” he joked.

“Well, it’s funny you should ask,” you mused as you look down at the threadbare shirt you had on, “Because I am currently wearing a very old Cardinals Baseball shirt.”

He had given it to you after they had won the State Championships his junior year as a thank you for all the time you had spent helping him practice after school and on the weekends leading up to the playoff games.

“You’re messing with me.”

“I would never joke about Washington High school pride.” He laughed at that, because really, when were you not teasing him?

When you didn’t say anything more he’d pressed, “Wait, seriously?”

“Mm-hmm,” you purred smugly, playing with the frayed hem of the shirt.

“I want to see it.”

“Are you asking me to send a photo of myself in bed after 2 A.M?” you asked with faux shock, “Sir, I am a lady.”

That made him snort, “There wasn’t anything ladylike about the way you took down that burger the other week. But seriously. You’ve got sixty seconds, kid. Otherwise I’m coming over there to see it for myself.”

Your breath had caught in your throat. His demand made your heart beat faster in your chest, the two of you had never done anything like this before. 

“Ok, ok. Give me a moment.” 

Working quickly knowing Bradley wasn’t one for idle threats, you positioned yourself where his shirt is clearly visible, but also featured a glimpse of the top of your thighs and a hint of the smirk on your lips. Satisfied you sent it off to him and put the phone back up to your ear.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out incredulously. You didn’t know if he meant to say it out loud or not, but you’d felt the heat work its way in your cheeks all the same.

“Come on then, Bradshaw. You’re up. Tit for tat as it was.”

“I didn’t realize tits were on the table,” he rasped lowly.

You were thankful he hadn’t made this a FaceTime call, so that he didn’t see the way your jaw dropped.

There was a thrumming working its way through your body. There wasn’t anything explicitly dirty happening, but it felt deliciously thrilling all the same. It was exciting doing this with him.

“Nuh-uh, rules are rules. You’ve got sixty seconds,” you tell him, trying to sound more in control than you felt.

A few moments later you see the notification pop down, and you click into the text. The first thing your mind registered was his skin. 

So much golden skin. 

He was leaning against his head board, navy comforter bunched around low on his waist. His hair was a little mussed, and his mouth was pulled to one side in a half-smirk. He was just so handsome, you could even see the fine trail of hairs that led to his---

“Goddammit, Bradley!” you’d exclaimed putting him on speaker, so you could still hear him without putting your phone back up to your ears since you were too busy staring at the picture he had just sent. “Are you kidding me? This is some serious one-handed fodder!” 

You could hear his booming laughter on the other side.

“Happy now?” You could hear how pleased he was with your reaction in his voice.

“Truly, the happiest. You have no idea,” you replied, albeit a distractedly, “But, full disclosure? I am going to be gazing at this so disrespectfully after we hang up.” You’ve never been so bold before, but everything about that moment had been electrifying with him. Because of him.

“Enjoy your one-handed fodder, kid. But full disclosure?” his voice was teasing as he used your own words against you, “You’d need to use both hands. I’m glad you’re home, I’ll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, sweet girl.”

He hung up on you without waiting for a response as you gaped into your home screen.

As images filled your head of what it would look like to have both of your hands wrapped the length of him, you let your fingers trail down your stomach and under the waistband of your underwear.

You had already lost a lot of sleep thinking about Bradley. Dreaming about how it would feel to be naked and pressed close along his body. He runs so warm normally, would he be even hotter to the touch as you both rocked against each other? You wanted to know the sounds he made when he came.

Too desperate to come to bother reaching for your vibrator, you had propped your phone against your spare pillow looking at that photo of him cozy and warm in his bed, and with your other hand you easily slid two fingers into yourself. Circling your clit with one hand as you worked yourself with the other.

You wanted his fingers. You wanted his mouth. You wanted his cock. You wanted all of him.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself think about Bradley. His molten brown eyes. His strong forearms. The tantalizing veins of his thick neck. The way his mustache feels against your mouth when you make out in his Bronco. The powerful grace in the way his body moved during a game of dogfight football.

You imagined him unreservedly and unabashedly. 

Above you. 

Below you. 

Behind you.

You came like a flash. Back arching as you spasmed against your own fingers while thinking about his.

And a few minutes later, just as your heart rate had settled back down and you were about to turn your light off, you got a text from him.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝙸 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚔𝚒𝚍.

Which promptly had you tossing your phone away from you as you squealed into your pillow. 

It was so easy to lose yourself in his kiss, breathing in each other’s air. Your mouths are drawn together like magnets. His hands are high on your ribcage, his brave thumb caressing the underside of your breast. You are dizzy off of the feeling of his tongue stroking yours.

There is an earnest yearning in the way you both kiss each other. In the way you touch each other. It’s almost like you’re trying to make up for something. 

“I can feel you thinking, sweet girl,” he says a little breathlessly as he pulls away from your mouth. His lips are swollen and his hair is a wavy, brown mess. “Am I not going a good enough job over here?” 

You know he is teasing you, but you can tell that he is giving you the gentle opening to talk about what distracting thoughts are pulling you out of being in the moment with him.

“I was just thinking about when you picked me up in your old Montero for the first time. You were leaning against it like my very own Jake Ryan,” you tell him as you place kisses across his cheek.

Not exactly the truth, but you don’t want to ruin the mood by telling him what was really on your mind. Not when you wanted to make him feel just as good as he was making you feel.

“I loved that car,” he moans lightly as you kiss along his jaw, his hands sliding up your back.

“I know,” you hum against his ear, “You didn’t talk to me for like a week when I spilled my milkshake in it that one time.”

“I should have kept that car, she was a classic,” he sighs as he leans his head against the back of the couch to look up at you. His hands skimming up and down the sides of your waist, still hard beneath you.

“You know, my parents still think I was some kind of manual stick-shifting wunderkind,” you tell him grinning down at him. Your thumb tracing the long scar there under his Adam’s apple.

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have taught you how to how to drive when you were fourteen,” he says with fondness. The grin on his gorgeous face nothing short of sheepish, “Your mom can never know. I still want her to like me.”

You smile briefly thinking about him teaching you in the afternoons after school when neither of you had practices to attend in the abandoned parking lot across town. 

How he had patiently taught you how to shift from neutral into first even after stalling out multiple times in a row. He had done his best to hid his wincing from you when you inevitably managed to grind the gears because he didn’t want you to feel bad about it. You can still remember how loudly he whooped for you when you managed to start it and get it moving in one go. Afterwards, he had taken you to the ice cream place to celebrate, that time with him in the driver’s seat. 

When you had finally gotten your learner’s permit your parents had called you a natural. And you had immediately known that there was no way you were ever going to tell them you’d learned from Bradley. That was a secret just for the two of you.

“You know,” you muse toying with button on his shirt, “Sixteen-year-old me would probably be losing her mind knowing that I get to make out with you anytime I want.”

“Huh, that so?” he smirks, a hand coming up to play with the ends of your hair, “Did you have a crush on me, kid?”

For the most part, before getting together you had been good about keeping your feelings for Bradley purely platonic. Except for a couple of slip ups here and there over the years, like that time at the Hard Deck after seeing the team play dogfight football for the first time. But that was another secret that you were never going to give up easily. 

Your friendship with him had always meant more to you than anything else.

“Mm, I wouldn’t call it a crush. What I had was a lot of hormones, and it didn’t help that you were pretty.” 

He had always been cute, even as a gangly teen whose arms and legs never seemed to be in sync, but the man looking up at you now was in a league of his own. His warm brown eyes were slightly hooded filled with mischief and something more.

“And now?” Bradley asks teasingly, his other smoothing up your back to press you closer. He leans forward to kiss the spot where your neck met your shoulder.

“Now?” you breathe out, as his mouth moves up along your neck, “Now I still have a lot of hormones, think you’re very handsome, and definitely have a crush on you.”

“Good,” he murmurs as his teeth graze your jaw.

“What about you?” you gasp, melting into him further. You want to keep him talking, so you don’t think about how you want his mouth on other places. He is so hard, so warm, and you want him so bad. 

But for as much as you wanted to strip off your clothes and his to let him have his way with you, it was the last boundary between being just friends and this. It wasn’t something that could ever be undone. And you wanted it so bad, it scared you just how much you wanted that kind of permanence with him.

It’s been almost two months and you’ve had him for years, but you want him like this forever.

“Yeah, there’s been a few times when I’ve caught myself thinking about you in less than friendly ways. You’re gorgeous, and smart, and funny,” He squeezes your waist, before admitting, “Always felt guilty when it happened though.”

He had thought of you too. 

Why did that make your chest hurt? Could you have been doing this for years?

“Tell me,” you quietly urge, running your fingers through his hair encouragingly, “I want to know.” 

You were desperate to know.

“Do you remember that house party we went to that Spring Break you visited me during my senior year at UVA?” he asks, letting his hands lightly trail up and down the tops of your thighs. 

You could have been doing this for years.

You didn’t trust your voice not to wobble and betray you, so you nodded your head instead.

“I had gone in to get us a couple more drinks, and when I came back out there were so many more people in the backyard than there were when I left. I mean, I was probably a little drunk, but it was packed,” he told you as his thumb rubbed small circles near your inner knee, “I remember looking for you when I got distracted by a great set of legs in pair of frayed denim shorts. And as I was working out how I was going to play it as I made my way over to her, she turned around.”

It wasn’t a secret where this was going. You knew what the ending would be before he even started telling you the story. Yet, you were still hanging on his every word with bated breath.

“You turned around. Couldn’t believe I didn’t recognize you in that moment. And the way you smiled at me,” he reaches up and cups your cheek, his thumb lightly tapping on the spot where your dimples lived, “God, I still remember, it hit me like a suckerpunch. Your hair looked so pretty under the string lights they had put up.”

“They were the shitty red and green Christmas kind,” you whisper. 

You remembered that party, it was one of the last times you got to spend uninterrupted one-on-one time with him before he joined the Navy. Before your friendship turned into a long-distance game of catching up and phone tag.

“They were and probably a fire hazard too,” he confirms softly with a chuckle, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you gaze at each other. “I felt so bad afterwards that I had been checking you out. Like I was taking advantage of our friendship somehow.”

This was a new kind of openness between the two of you in this little moment of transparent honesty. A reminder for how well you know each other that there are still new things to learn. 

“I remember when you picked me up from the airport, I think it was like the first time we’d seen each other in person in almost a year. And I had this moment when I saw you waiting for me that realized that the boy I had grown up with was very much a man,” you sit back a bit to better look at him, his cheeks were still flushed from earlier. “But god, Bradley, now? Now, you’re devastating.” 

You wanted him to have these parts of you, to fill him in on the things he didn’t know, the things you kept close to your heart. It was your story, but it belonged to him too.

“C’mere,” he murmurs as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck pulling you back into him. Your mouths are a whisper away from each other as you share the same air, and he is looking at you with such open want, “I didn’t realize until recently how much time I spent trying not to think about you like that when you first moved here. And now that I can, you’re the only thing that’s been on my mind. You’re so fucking distracting, sweet girl.”

If you thought you were needy before, now you felt like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin if you didn’t get your mouth back on his right that very second. 

He meets you half way for a desperate kiss. It’s hungry and open-mouthed. You come alive under his touch, his kiss energizes you in a way that no drug or stimulant ever could.

Your hasty, frantic hands landing everywhere. Never content to linger in one place for long. Not when you have so much of his body you are dying to map with your hands. With your mouth. You want to touch him everywhere. You want to taste him everywhere.

You nibble on the fullness of his lower lip, seeking entrance into his warm mouth. He opens for you without hesitation, his tongue ready and waiting to welcome yours. You can still taste the juicy, full-bodied red on him from that long-forgotten bottle of wine.

He says your name on shattered breath, pulling away only long enough to place wet, hot kisses down your neck, down your chest. Your hands are buried in his hair, clutching at his sunkissed waves.

“This damn bow,” he rasps as he roughly pulls at the little bow at the center of your flirty red dress as if it has personally offended him by its very existence. Once untied it reveals a bit more of the swell of your breasts to his eager eyes. 

Your skin feels almost a size too small for your body, and your throat is tight with want. His kisses were like champagne going straight to your head. His hands are the only thing you want touching you.

You don’t mean to let your hips rock against the firm swell of him, but his resounding groan is quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. And you know in that moment you need to hear it again, and again. So you roll your hips once more, intentionally this time.

Bradley’s low moan of pleasure makes you feel heady and reckless. You lick a stripe along the underside of his jaw. His hands fly to your ass, sliding under that frilly dress, grasping you with greedy hands when you kiss a spot behind his ear. Even in your frenzied state you file away his response to that for later.

And then you are lost in the feel of his mouth. Of his hands on you. Of your hands on him. Of the taste of the skin of his neck. Of the feeling of the zipper on his tight jeans hitting your clit just right as you writhe on top of him.

It starts as a shiver that makes your whole body erupt in goosebumps as he encourages the rolling of your hips against him. You’ve never felt as cared for, as safe as you do in his arms.

The tingling sensation begins at the base of your neck and like a flicker start it shoots down, down the entire length of your spine setting off in your cunt in spectacular electric bursts.

You spasm deliciously and devastatingly against nothing with Bradley pressed thick and hard against the center of you. The shockwaves gripping your body as you’re left gasping and panting into the hollow of his throat. 

“Did you just...?” he asks urgently. You can’t speak yet so you nod vigorously into his neck. “Fuck. That’s so hot.”

Pressing closer, you try to hide from the intensity you know you would find in his eyes. Burying your face further in his neck as you try to catch your breath. You breathe him in in hopes that his soothing cedar scent will help settle the rapid beating of your heart. 

“Sweet girl, please. C’mon, I gotta see you,” he murmurs desperately. He pulls his head back a bit trying to create more room to get a look at you, attempting to coax you out by brushing your hair back, “I need to see it. Please. Let me see your face.”

You can feel how turned on he is, can hear it in his voice. And you’re feeling truly shy around Bradley for probably the first time in your life.

“I’ve been thinking about what you’d sound like for weeks,” he tells you with such soft sincerity.

“Bradley,” you whisper finally pulling away from the sanctuary that is the crook of his neck. His heated gaze roams your face, drinking you in. He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek, this thumb skimming your lower lip. There are a thousand different emotions coursing through you and you know he can read them all. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. Talk to me, please,” he breathes, “What’s going through your mind? It’s just me.”

You have been so careful trying to skirt around this conversation. It has been the elephant in the room after every date, every heated make out session, every honeyed goodnight kiss. 

And you want him too much to keep avoiding this, even though it scares you.

“That’s just it, Bradley, it’s you!”

“It’s me?” he asks confused.

“Yes! It’s you, it’s me, it’s us. It has never been like this with anyone else. I have never felt like this with anyone else. And the way you look at me sometimes, it’s overwhelming.” You were still feeling flustered from your surprise orgasm, and you know you aren’t expressing yourself clearly. But you feel so flayed open before him.

“Hey, hey,” he says soothingly, “If this is too much for you, we can slow it down. Or if you aren’t feeling it, we figure out how to be just friends again.” He can’t hide the wince on his face as he says it, but you know he honestly means it. “It might take me a couple of decades to forget the way you sounded just now, but we would figure it out together.”

“No, I don’t want that. Don’t you get it? I feel the complete opposite, and that’s the problem!” 

“Ok, wait. You just came on my lap, sweet girl,” Bradley’s voice is unmistakably proud, even as he breathes out raggedly. “I’m trying to get my thoughts in order over here. Because that was the best thing I’ve ever heard and I’m having trouble getting my head on right to talk about this. So as much as I love having you on me, we have to readjust before we can continue.”

You make a noise of protest as maneuvers you both so that he is stretched out across the couch, while you’re nestled securely against the back of his couch and half draped over him.

“Let’s try this again,” he says rubbing small circles on your back, “I don’t want to mess this up by not knowing exactly where we stand with things, you are too important to me. Are you worried it’s going to be weird or that it’s not going to be good?”

“No.” That legitimately never even crossed your mind. But now a seed of doubt had been planted in your already anxious mind, “Are you?”

“Not even a little bit,” Bradley tells you with a shake of the head, “I know it’s going to be good.”

“That confident about your sexual prowess, huh?” It felt easier, safer to make a joke.

“Well, yeah. There’s that,” he hums with a half smirk, “But it’s you and me, kid. It’s gonna be good. How could it not be?”

There’s something about his steadfast sureness that warms your chest.

“Can I tell you what I’m worried about?” He waits for your nod of confirmation before continuing, “I’m worried about how I am supposed to function afterwards. How am I supposed to just get up and go to work in the morning after I’ve had you in my bed? Because once I get to have you like that, I’m never going to stop wanting more with you.”

And there’s the longing again, that pull in your stomach. You want him too, you want him too.

You are comforted knowing that he has things that have been on his mind too, that you’re not alone. Even if the two of you are concerned about two different things. And it was only right that you let him in, you could be unreservedly vulnerable for him. 

“Bradley, it’s been so incredibly good with us. But I’m so afraid that once we take this step, that all I am going to be thinking about is that we could have been doing this for years. That we could have had each other like this for years.” Even the idea of it hurts your heart, at the glimmer of the possibility that you could have gotten to this point with him sooner. “And I don’t want to have any regrets about the way our story has gone up until this point. But I especially don’t want to have any regrets about missing out on time with you.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead in understanding. 

“Let me ask you this then, would you trade any of it?” he asks as he slides a hand around your neck to tilt your head up to look at him, “Any of the adventures we had when we were younger? Or the weekend visits? Or any of the late-night milkshake runs for it?”

You knew the answer immediately, “No. No, I wouldn’t trade a thing.”

“Then we’re right on time,” he promises sincerely as he skims his thumb along the line of your jaw. “We’re right on time, sweet girl.”

It’s so perfectly Bradley, the way he knows exactly what your heart needed to hear.

And all the extra pressure you had been feeling releases from your body because it’s Bradley.

It’s just Bradley. It’s just you. 

It’s just you and Bradley. 

It’s been that way since you were kids. 

You’ve had him as a friend. You still have him as a friend. But you also get to have more. 

Of course, it’s going to be good.

Of course, it’s going to be right.

Of course, there were going to be what if’s. It was inevitable.

What you weren’t going to do is let yourself dwell on what-could-have-beens or regrets because you have him here and now. And that is more than enough. 

It’s everything. 

You untangle yourself from him to stand up as he watches you apprehensively. Waiting to see what your next move will be.

Standing in front of Bradley, you hold his gaze as you find the zipper on the side your little red dress. All concern leaves his face as you draw it down slowly before him. He doesn’t blink as you let the silky fabric skim down your body, puddling at your feet. And then he is looking at you with open awe and longing. 

Stepping out of it lightly, you confidently make your way to the stairs towards his bedroom.

“Well, are you coming?”

PART 2

Not to worry, friends! There is more to come! After all, we have to find out what happens once she goes up those stairs!

To those who like to spice up their life a la the Spice Girls, I’ve got more headed your way (and by more, I mean smutttt)! I have a taglist, so let me know if you would like to be added!

I wrote this as a birthday fic for the one and only @gretagerwigsmuse​! (Surprise! See I can be sneaky, even if you already knew about it, haha!) It may be a little late, but I hope it was worth the wait!

Mood board for Part 1

(This is written for part of my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)

You can check out my other fics here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @chicomonks 

[bcyhoods]

can I request steve taking care of a sick shy!reader?

the universe knew i needed inspiration and they said BAM, now ur sick :P so essentially……..this is self-indulgent, i apologize in advance | 1k fluff, fem!reader

You’d first assumed that the itch in the back of your throat was trivial. The cold morning air had irritated your lungs before and it would usually go away within the first hour of being awake. But something about this particular itch could not be satisfied, no matter how many times you’d cleared your throat or how much water you drank. Then your nose started running.

A few harsh, involuntary coughs and an empty tissue box later, you’d reluctantly accepted your fate. You were sick.

When you called to tell Steve, you didn’t expect him to make a big deal about it. You severely underestimated just how tight you had him wrapped around your finger. Not even half an hour later, he was at your doorstep with a giant paper bag full of cough syrups and other remedies. He sported a cute frown upon seeing you answer the door with a chapped nose and a blanket draped over your shoulders.

He was here to bear witness to your sickness in all its raw glory. You’d feel more embarrassed if it wasn’t Steve. Nonetheless, you shrink into your pillows as he dotes on you.

“Hmm.” He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed, right beside your legs as you sit up against the headboard. His nose scrunches and makes his wire frames slip slightly down his nose.

“You feel a little warm, but I don’t think you have a fever,” he deduces. He hauls the paper bag off the floor to sit in his lap while he digs through to find the proper medicine bottle.

You see, Steve had no idea how sick you felt when he was speeding over to the general store. He didn’t want to get you something that’d be completely useless. So with the help of Joyce Byers, he practically raided the aisles and purchased as many daily capsules and herbal teas that he could get his hands on. Your medicine cabinet will be stocked for at least the next couple years.

A sound of satisfaction pulls your attention to the bottle of cough syrup in his hand. The bright orange liquid taunts you as it sloshes against the plastic when he pushes it your way.

“Do I have to?” You whine, lips beginning to curl at the mere memory of its offensive taste, “It’s gross, Steve.”

“I know, honey, but it’s just one spoonful. You can do a spoonful,” he tells you so confidently that it makes you hiccup.

Upon seeing the twist in your expression, he sweetens the deal with the promise of homemade chicken noodle soup and a few kisses — the latter you begrudgingly refuse so as to not pass the cold.

He pours the syrup into the shallow bowl of a spoon, chuckling at the grimace that’s still present on your face. You push yourself to sit up straighter and sniffle as he moves the spoon closer to you. Your stomach dips when you see him smile and nod in simple assurance before you’re opening your mouth.

Your lips wrap around the metal and you’re immediately recoiling at the foul flavour.

“See? I told you, you could do it. Look how easy that was.”

It makes your chest flutter. He’s reaching down into the bag again to grab a water bottle and your arms spring for it. Steve chuckles at your eagerness as he watches you quickly unscrew the cap and chug. The remnants of the medicine burn the back of your throat and your eyes briefly water at the sting.

“You okay?” He caresses your calf over the thick comforter when he asks. It makes your shoulders droop — you ache to feel his cold hands in your warm skin. You nod sheepishly and avert your eyes from his stare.

“Thank you, doctor,” you say without much thought.

Steve perks up. There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he hums and takes the bottle from your hands.

“Doctor, huh? Are you into that? Doctor Harrington?” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

A cough of surprise pushes out past your lips and you can feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage. Your leg burns where his hand rests and the sensation rushes right to the top of your head. His taunting gaze makes your hands fly to your cheeks and a shy grin fights its way onto your face.

“What? No, I…” Steve’s brow jumps up to challenge you. You attempt to steel yourself, but eyes dart everywhere but his face. “I’m into being healthy,” you reply, voice shaky.

“Right, yeah. Totally. But you’re also into me, right?” He scoots closer to you as his hand slowly inches up toward your thigh.

“Steve,” you scold him and shut your eyes.

“Oh. You’re so into me, it’s making you sick, my poor girl,” he teases before leaning over to kiss your jaw down to your throat. You giggle as tufts of his hair tickle your cheeks and then you’re pulling him back. His lips drag up the column of your neck until he’s reaching your lips. It’s feather-light before you’re pulling back.

“I’m gross right now,” you mutter with a frown, referring to your cold. But Steve takes great offense. He pouts.

“This bug got you good. Making you delirious.” He dives back in for your lips. It’s firm this time, like he’s proving a point. It makes you sigh and grab at his biceps as he’s pushing you up against your headboard. When his hand moves to cup your cheek and pull you closer, you start pushing at his shoulders.

“Steve,” you whine into his mouth, “I’m gonna get you sick.”

“Come on, I have a solid immune system,” he insists, “I’m basically superhuman. I think I can handle a few kisses.”

Steve thinks he’s just about the luckiest person in the world when you smile and laugh. And also because he’s got you to take care of him when he inevitably gets sick the following week.

[gojoed]

I SEE THE SAME. | vash x reader. | 1.9k words.

“Did you really think letting them shoot you was a good idea.”

A wince was let loose in the otherwise quiet room. The only noise was the bustle from the town outside, even if it was night, and the static voices of the small radio that Vash always carried. Dim lights made it a little hard but not impossible to see his fresh wound.

Thankfully the bullet only grazed his waist, not getting lodged or going straight through him like other unfortunate instances. But it was still bleeding and if it were up to Vash, he’d let it continue so. But thankfully you were here, so that wasn’t happening tonight.

Sighing, you set down the first aid supplies down on the desk that was positioned near the bed and set yourself down on the chair, wheeling your way over to where Vash was. Seated on the bed, with his head held low and eyes that were shielded by his sunset tinted glasses. His blood seemed to seep through his black turtleneck more, he wasn’t applying any pressure to the wound whatsoever. 

Being a plant yourself, you understood that you both healed quicker than a human, but still it seemed unwise to just leave it like that.

Waving your hand in an upwards motion, you silently told Vash to lift his shirt. He obeyed, lifting it on the side that the wound presided. Vash leaned himself back slightly against the heel of his mechanical hand, while his flesh one held onto the fabric.

Unscrewing the cap from its bottle, you tilted it against a clean rag, letting the water soak it slightly before moving the bottle upright and setting it down on the desk. You moved your hand with the rag over to his exposed waist, but let it hover as you looked up at Vash, asking for permission. 

The glare of the desk light reflected against his glasses in a way that blocked his eyes from view. But he offered a smile, one that felt empty, as if saying “yes.” 

You didn’t need his glasses to be off to know that his eyes would give him away. Guilt. It was one of the most frequent emotions you always could see swimming within him. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and by God, Vash’s was drowning. 

Brushing those thoughts away, you bent forward, slouching a bit to dab at the bullet wound. The bleeding had stopped on its own, that’s good. Vash twitched a little when your free hand placed itself on the skin of his stomach, moving his shirt up. He lifted his arm a bit more.

There he goes again, helping others before himself.

“You know, you didn’t answer my question.”

He stiffened up a bit, but then relaxed as a small chuckle escaped his lips. 

“Well.. it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Your brows furrowed. Vash has had that “good idea” plenty of times during these hundred years or so. The evidence being the canvas of scars that was his body. Just how many more times would he allow himself to be hurt like this, you wondered. Knowing him, he wouldn’t stop, not with the insane amount of guilt that he always seemed to have. 

Once you were satisfied with your work, you tossed the rag onto the bed beside him and grabbed the bandages that were on the table. Ripping the package open with your fingers you placed a bit of medical tape to the free end. Leaving that on the bed for a moment, you placed a piece of gauze on the bullet wound before reaching for the bandages again when you saw that Vash had already gotten it. 

You whispered a small “thank you” for which you got a soft “anytime” from him as you placed the tape on his skin, beginning to wrap the bandages around him. 

Straightening your back you leaned closer to fit the bandages snuggly around his waist; which Vash then prompted to open his legs wider, moving the chair with one of them to move you along with it. Placing you directly in front of him in between his legs. 

Thankfully the wound wasn’t too severe, so you didn’t have to worry about using too much bandage. You had just bought it too, having restocked in town an hour prior to crashing in a pretty decent hotel. The townsfolk didn’t seem to recognize Vash from the wanted paper floating around, so you considered Lady Luck to be on your side. 

Finished with the bandages you cut it off, placing another piece of tape on it to then press it down lightly. You blew out a bit of air through your nose, looking at your handiwork. 

“Ok, all done Vash.”

“Thank you.” 

Looking up you saw him staring at you, glasses gone. He must have taken them off while you were fixated on wrapping him up. 

“Anytime.” You parroted his words back to him.

Light blue eyes made contact with yours before they didn’t, his eyes closing to give you another smile. It seemed a little empty this time. But he still must be thinking about the events that happened in the town before this one. Quite a bit of collateral damage was done to the town, as a result of bounty hunters having spotted you both and decided to see if they could get that sixty billion double dollar prize on their dirty hands. 

There weren’t any casualties to add to the mountain of guilt and shame Vash carried, but there were still injuries. Not to mention that the town’s plant was almost damaged thanks to the recklessness of those bounty hunters. And one of the townspeople who did harbor resentment towards Vash, caused him to have yet another scar. One that you had just cleaned up.

Did Vash really think letting people take their anger out on him would solve anything?

Leaning back onto the chair, it squeaked under the weight of your back. You crossed your arms and sat there, patiently. 

“You’re still thinking about them, huh?”

Vash makes a little noise akin to a squeak. He knows you caught him, and he doesn’t deny it. Opening his eyes you could tell they were a little watery, tears threatening to spill. But he just sniffled and laughed softly. Running a hand through his mop of hair he looked at you.

“Yeah, I am.” 

You were waiting for it.

“But.. I don’t deserve to cry.”

Ah, there it is.

Those same words that you’ve heard countless times as well as the countless times you’ve seen him worry over others than himself. He wanted to cry, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to. To him, it was his inability to act that denied him of such rights. Funny, how he also thinks the actions of his brother are also his fault. 

Uncrossing your arms, you reached for both his hands. You would think that his prosthetic arm would be cold to the touch, being made of Lost Technology. But no, it was warm, just like his hand made of flesh. 

Your actions were unexpected for Vash, and it made him even more confused (but curious) as to why you not only grabbed his hands, but when you followed that with holding yours against his. Palm to palm, each of your hands held in the middle of you both. You lined your fingers up with his, his being a little larger than yours but you didn’t mind. In fact it was one of his traits that you loved about him. The same hands that could hold a gun and pull a trigger were the same ones that held onto your own when traveling in the dunes of the desert.

“What do you see?”

Vash blinked. Once, then again. His tears had subsided slightly so he could see clearer. Looking down at where you two were making contact, he said:

“Well, I see our hands.”

The tone in which his voice was laced with made you laugh, almost snorting.

“Okay, that’s a little obvious. So, what do you notice about them?”

He cocked an eyebrow upwards slightly, biting his bottom lip a little bit. Vash’s hair bounced a bit, as he also moved his head a bit to the side.

“They’re.. They’re like mine.”

“Bingo! If I had some, I might have given you a golden star, y’know.”

That made Vash laugh, his usual cheerful self peeking out a bit now. 

“Okay, what else do you notice about them?” You swayed your hands together, as if doing so would make the answer come easier to him.

“We each have the same amount of fingers?”

“Right on, we both have ten to be exact!”

It was your turn to give him a smile, looking him right in the eyes. But he didn’t meet them, he knew if he looked at them he would break down in an instant. So he kept his eyes on his hands that were connected to yours, he liked the way it felt.

“What else do we have that are the same?”

The comfort he felt was disturbed just a pinch when you intertwined your fingers with his and swayed them side to side, moving both your arms in the process.

“We have two arms!” Vash straightened his back a bit more, your zeal seeming to be infectious and he was your victim. 

It only wavered a little bit when your hands left him too soon, now pointing a finger rather delicately at his face.

“What do we have here that’s the same?”

Vash continued to list off whatever he found that he shared with you. If he said eyes, your fingers would touch right under them. When he said a nose, he chuckled when you booped him, letting your finger stay on the tip. He mirrors your actions, touching wherever you touch him except on you. He let his hands cup your cheeks like you did to him, he let his fingers gently graze your lips just as you did to his.

Vash felt his shoulders relax, the tension slowly releasing. But he felt them quiver when you leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

“See, we’re not so different from everyone else right? So if they can cry, if I can cry, then that means you can too.”

Biting his lip he resisted the urge to let the tears fall, but he broke when your hands returned to his and squeezed. Only then did he let a broken sound come out of his equally broken soul. His eyebrows scrunched while he sobbed, the pain in his ribs came and went as his own cries racked within them. Vash wished he could stop, but how could he? When you were the one who pried him open and let the damn fall. 

You switched positions, pulling him into a hug so he could bury his face into the crook of your neck. It was a little awkward on your end thanks to the chair but you didn’t mind, didn’t care. All that mattered to you was that Vash let the pain leak out just like the tears did. 

It took him a few minutes to stop, his chest jumping thanks to the surprising force his sobs contained. He sniffled as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Vash broke the hug first, but returned to placing his forehead against yours and having your hands hold his. 

“So.. I’m thinking pizza and donuts, what do ya say?”

Vash’s laugh broke the nonexistent tension, it sounded a little broken but he smiled. Really smiled.

“I like the way you think.”

© boo-kugo on tumblr. please don’t copy or post my work on other accounts, websites, or platforms.

[zablife]

I Wanna Do Bad Things To You

Alfie x reader (Shelby sister)

Summary: You have a plan to betray your powerful brother with the help of Alfie Solomons, but your impetuous and infuriating behavior is far too dramatic for the mad baker. What happens when he puts you in your place?

Author’s Note: Written for the lovely Alex @cillmequick 6 month milestone celebration. Congrats, darl! Prompt “And what would people say if they listened through the wall?” Oxytocin by Billie Eilish. Inspiration taken from the whole song as well. Porn with little to no plot. Bit of a twisted love story.

Warning: 🔞, language, drinking, smut- impact play, fingering, degradation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (if you squint), dom Alfie, mean Alfie

Before Alfie could answer the loud rapping upon his door, it opened suddenly, the fading rays of the afternoon sun outlining your shapely figure in a heavenly glow. However, A Shelby at his door was rarely a good omen and Alfie surmised you were no angel. The ample cleavage spilling over the top of your tightly fitting bodice and the bottle of Irish whisky in your hand only confirmed his suspicions.

Slamming the door behind you, you sauntered toward him confidently, hips swaying seductively with each step. Alfie eyed you suspiciously, pressing the tips of his fingers together in anticipation of some unreasonable demand or another sent straight from Tommy. “Hello, Miss Shelby. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he said greeting you with a tip of his head.

You giggled and shook your head, playfully chiding, “So formal, Alfie. You should call me Y/n.” Alfie watched you remove your coat slowly and throw it over a chair as you continued. “I think we’re going to become very close you and I.”

“And why would that be?” Alfie asked, leaning back in his chair, arms folded over his stomach.

“I have a business proposition for you,” you said with excitement, boldly taking a seat on the edge of his desk. 

Alfie exhaled loudly muttering, “You Shelbys,” with a shake of his head. “Listen, pet, your brothers thieve my oxygen far too much as it is. Never satisfied with their lot. So you can trot on and tell that cunt Tommy we’re done dealin.’” He motioned to the door with a flick of his wrist, turning his attention to the stack of papers at his elbow. 

Undeterred, you placed the whisky bottle on the desk with a thud, running a fingertip around the edge of the cap lazily as you asked, “What if I told you the deal wasn’t with Tommy? I agree that he’s gotten far too greedy and it’s time we did something about that.” You took a breath before emphasizing, “A more permanent solution.” Your eyes flicked to Alfie to gauge his reaction, but he remained impassive. However, he hadn’t thrown you out yet, so you took that as an encouraging sign. 

Opening the bottle before you with a flourish, you grabbed a nearby glass and began pouring a shot. You slid it across the table, presumptuously asking, “A toast to new partners?”

He frowned, sliding it back to you with two fingers. “Nah,” he replied dismissively.

You tossed your head back with a bubbly laugh, kicking off the desk and slowly approaching Alfie’s chair. He tracked your movement with just his eyes, irritation building at your inability to take a hint that he was uninterested in your scheming. He looked you up and down carefully as you stood before him, noticing how you leaned over to ensure he got a look down your dress. 

You smiled to yourself as you traced a manicured hand along his shirt front, toying with the buttons, one by one. “If you find it hard to swallow, I can loosen up your collar,” you offered. You received a short grunt in reply, perhaps his body betraying his logical mind. Picking up the glass, you offered it to him again with a sweet smile. “It’s the first drop that kills you so there’s no harm in the last,” you joked.

“Wasn’t talking about the whisky, was I?” he asked in a low voice. Then pushing your hand away from his chest he added, “I’m sayin’ no to you, treacle.”

Your smile faded as you struggled to comprehend his sudden rejection. You weren’t used to hearing the word no. Standing to your full height, you pursed your lips in obvious displeasure and attempted to regain composure. “Then tell me why,” you said in a tight voice.

“I could write you a book, but I ain’t got the time. Suffice it to say, I just don’t fucking trust you,” he spat, leaning forward and placing his palms on the desk for emphasis. He stood, signaling the end of your meeting, but you were far from done.

“I hate Tommy as much as you do and I can be valuable to you,” you proclaimed, jutting your chin out with haughty insistence.

Alfie scoffed, “Tommy Shelby’s little sister? Darlin’, this is a man’s world.”

Your blood began to boil that you weren’t being taken seriously. With your plan quickly unraveling, you reached for the glass and downed its contents. But the burn of the alcohol only fueled your rage. You hurled the glass against the wall beside Alfie’s head as you shouted, “You arsehole! You don’t know what I’m capable of!”

Faster than you thought possible, Alfie’s heavy boots thudded against the floorboards in warning. Suddenly his hulking form was towering over you, one large calloused hand reaching out to capture both your wrists in one swift movement. His long fingers encircled you like a rope and tightened with considerable strength, eliciting a whimper from you as you fought to free yourself. He jerked you toward him with a grunt, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

You shook your head to move the fringe from your eyes, realizing he was close enough to feel your pounding heart. However, it wasn’t fear that gripped you in that moment. It was pure adrenaline and excitement. You could feel the heat building in your core as you waited to see what he would do. 

Alfie leaned down to speak to you, jaw clenched with fury. “You’re behaving like a fucking child,” he told you in a low voice. His eyes bore a hole through you and the intensity of it was so great you couldn’t look away. Your chest rose and fell against him, breasts pushing against his broad chest.

He took your chin in his hand harshly, eyes narrowing as he searched your face. “Is that how I should treat you? Like a naughty little girl?” You licked your lips as he continued in a hushed voice, hot breath fanning over your face. “Because I have to admit, right now I want to do very bad things to you, you fucking brat.” As he spoke his eyes darkened with unmistakable lust and you were certain he could feel you bending to his will.

You nodded as best you could with his iron like grip on your jaw. "Yes, I want it," you said breathily. Pleased with your submission, he leaned in to kiss you, pressing his full lips to you insistently and pushing his tongue into your warm, waiting mouth. As he began to pull away he bit your bottom lip harshly as he murmured against the swollen flesh, “You should really run away.” But the wickedness of his words had the opposite effect. You were rooted to the spot, ready for your punishment.

He threw your head away hard enough to turn it and you glimpsed shadows through the frosted glass window. Reality came crashing in on you and you bit your lip as you wondered if Alfie’s employees might be able to see or hear you with their boss. Keeping your eyes trained on the door you asked in a quivering voice, “What would people say if they listened through the wall?”

Alfie’s lips brushed your ear as he growled, “I don’t give a fuck who knows I’m ruining you in here. In fact, I wanna make you yell.” The vibration of his voice sent shock waves straight to your pussy and you felt wetness begin to pool between your legs at his debauchery. You rubbed your thighs together to get some much needed friction, too preoccupied to remember Alfie’s earlier promise of punishment.

You heard the jingle of his belt buckle before you saw the flash of silver beneath his palm and you became aware of Alfie removing his belt, easily sliding the leather strap from his waist. Your breath caught in your chest with a little thrill, knowing you’d thoroughly provoked him. In one swift motion he turned you to face his desk and roughly placed your hands onto the polished wooden surface. He wasted no time turning your skirt up over your waist, exposing you to the cold air. The sudden chill hit and a shiver ran through you.

Alfie stood in silence for a few moments, taking in the sight of you laid out before him. A devilish smirk crossed his lips at the thought of you coming in here without any underwear and he realized he was right to assume you were not as innocent as you seemed. He was going to see how much you could take. How far he could push you. He allowed the anticipation to grow, watching you quiver.

The only sounds came from the distillery, grinding machines and men’s voices shouting to one another. Someone dropped a crate of bottles at the bottom of the stairs, distracting you as the first crack of the strap hit your thigh with a painful sting. You gripped the corners of the desk tightly as a tear sprang to your eye, but you didn’t make a sound as the next blow rained down on your ass. Four more fell in rapid succession and Alfie watched the flesh jiggle with satisfaction. Unable to stop himself, he reached out to grab a handful of you and squeezed appreciatively as you whined at the contact, crying out as he kneaded the sensitive flesh in his rough hands. 

The belt dropped to the floor with a clank and he resumed his work, landing a harsh smack along your thigh so close to your pussy, you felt it begin to throb with need. He waited for you to flinch, but you remained perfectly still, wanting to please him. He stood for a moment stroking his beard as he watched you, feeling his trousers tighten, but he wasn’t finished. 

Raising a ringed hand to you once more, he continued, his open palm landing slaps hard enough to move your body forward along the desk, the edge digging into your hipbones. The sound of Alfie’s grunts and groans of exertion behind you had your mind twisted in confusion. You felt your clit pulse, desperate for attention. As he connected with your ass once more, you began to tear up thinking how close his thick fingers were to where you needed them most. Too frustrated and turned on to remain still any longer, you arched your back, letting out a moan so loud it bordered on a shout. 

Alfie stopped with a jerk, stepping toward you slowly and brought a strong arm to your waist to lift you from the desk. He unlaced your dress as he cooed in your ear, “All finished, pet. You took it so well.” He discarded the material on the floor, erection digging into your burning ass cheek as he carefully ran a hand over the other. You hissed as his cool rings made contact with your sore, reddened flesh and you heard him inhale before exclaiming, “Fucking beautiful sight.” The arm around your waist tightened as a cobra around prey, but his voice remained soft as he hushed you, pushing the hair from your shoulders. 

He left a trail of open mouthed kisses down the nape of your neck before moving on to the crease at your shoulder, the tickling sensation making you squirm. His dominance returned as he began sucking a deep bruise into the thin skin along your collarbone. The sudden intensity of it, causing your hands to fly to his arm, digging your nails in sharply. You panted out little moans for him with each swirl of his tongue, every one of your pretty noises making his cock twitch against you. He rewarded you with another bruise below your ear, his free hand rolling and pinching your exposed nipples to feel them stiffen to a pleasing hardness. 

By the time he switched to the other side of your neck, you were thoroughly marked up and bucking wildly against him from overstimulation. The inside of your upper thighs felt slick with arousal and you were clenching around nothing. If this was part of his discipline, it was not what you had bargained for. You waited in agony, needing to feel him seated within you, the comforting fullness stretching you properly. 

Alfie must have read your mind, turning you to face him. He wiped a tear that escaped the corner of your eye, smiling to himself at the sight of your neediness. Then mercifully he ran a finger along your dripping slit to capture your juices, pushing two thick fingers inside your velvet heat to give you some relief. You sighed softly as he curled his fingers inside you dragging against your inner wall slowly until he found a delicious spot that made your jaw drop in silent ecstasy. As he gave a bit more pressure you swallowed harshly, attempting to sink further onto his hand, but he stopped you, clamping his other hand on your hip.

With an obscene squelching sound, he withdrew his fingers cruelly, swirling his fingertips over your clit to tease you. “I think you must be enjoying this cause you’re making a a fucking mess on my desk,” he chided you. He brought his digits to your eye level to show you the juices dripping off him as proof. Then he placed his fingers on your tongue as he commanded, “Clean it up.” You obediently swirled your tongue over his fingers tasting yourself with every lick. Making eye contact with him you gently sucked with hollowed cheeks as you hummed around his digits. The corners of your lips curled, knowing the vibrations were going straight to his aching cock. “Do you like this, naughty girl?” he asked with a dark chuckle. He watched your pupils blow wide and he nodded, “Good, cause we ain’t finished yet.”

He pulled his fingers from you with a pop, smearing saliva and lipstick across your mouth, and you watched with bated breath as he removed his shirt and trousers. The moment you saw his cock spring free, you reached out to touch him, but he swatted you away. His hand wrapped around his shaft, pumping himself in front of you as an added bit of torture before he ordered you to the sofa in the corner. You scrambled to the shabby piece of furniture as Alfie growled, “On your fucking hands and knees.” As soon as you were in place, you felt the springs dip beneath you with his weight and then you felt his warm hand splayed across the small of your back holding you in place.

You felt the tip of his cock slide through your wet folds, gathering your juices and you shimmied your ass to entice him. Suddenly he was pushing into you all at once, his thickness splitting you open around him. Alfie groaned at the sight of you spread wide for him, unable to stop himself from pulling out and slamming back into you to hear you cry out. His animalistic nature took over, driving into you sharply with a snap of his hips, the force of it causing his balls to slap against your clit over and over. The repeated motion had you panting and moaning in no time and you could practically hear the smirk as he rumbled, “Such a pretty little whore. Let me hear ya.” You clenched around him, mewling at the sensation of him thrusting deep enough to feel in your stomach. Alfie stilled momentarily, enjoying the pulse around his cock and making note of how you gripped him like a vice after he degraded you. Fuck, you liked this and he would give you more.

Soon he began to move within you again at a slower pace, dragging his length within you as you arched your back for him. Alfie leaned forward gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail and gave a harsh tug on your roots. That was all it took for you to push back against him for more greedily. “You get off on being filthy, do ya?” he asked, voice dripping with condescension. You didn’t speak, too overcome by sensation to respond, but Alfie knew your secret now. “Squeezing me so tight, pet. I think you enjoy being a whore for me,” he grunted wrapping your locks around his fist to tilt your head back at a precarious angle.

“Show me now. Make yourself cum on my cock like a good little whore,” he goaded you. You didn’t need to be told again, hand flying to your swollen nub and rubbing tight circles. Your eyes squeezed shut as you listened to the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. Alfie’s grunts didn’t grow any louder as he sped up his pace, urging you on, but your cries reached a deafening crescendo as you felt your lower belly pool with heat, desperate to be released. 

“Wanna cum. I need to cum, please, please,” you babbled feeling Alfie pound into you with reckless abandon. 

Yanking you up by your hair so your back was flush with his chest, Alfie huffed, “Not yet,” clearly annoyed at your pleas. You bit your lip trying to stave off your orgasm, but it was building faster than you could stop it. Feeling the fluttering resume around his cock, Alfie warned, “You better hold it, naughty girl.”

Reaching behind you to grab onto him for stability you whined, “I can’t…I can’t." Alfie’s balls tightened at the sound of your pathetic cries and his hips stuttered suddenly, rhythm lost in the tidal wave of pleasure threatening to consume him.

Bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear he panted out, “Now…cum right fucking now….with me.” Your fingers flew over your clit, needing only a few light strokes to begin shaking in pleasure. As Alfie released inside you, he bit down on your shoulder. Your jaw went slack as he fucked you through the aftershocks. A primal grunt left his lips at the feeling of your tight pussy milking him of every drop.

Collapsing back onto the sofa, Alfie dragged you with him, making you straddle his lap. You draped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder, feeling your body becoming heavy with exhaustion. He ran a hand along your back soothingly until your heart rates returned to normal, then you heard his voice low and rasped rumble from deep within his chest. “Fuck me, treacle, I could have you like that every day.”

You smiled to yourself wondering if he might reconsider your earlier offer. You sat up to look him in the eye and in a determined voice you ventured, “Alfie, I meant what I said about getting rid of Tommy. We should be partners.”

“Careful, pet, can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion,” Alfie warned you, a hint of his dark nature returning. Then you felt his hand clamp around your throat possessively as he snaked his tongue into your mouth, sparking a desperate clash for dominance and ending with your eventual surrender for air. 

“You and I are the same, Alfie,” you gasped as you balanced a hand on his sweaty chest. Nuzzling his nose with yours you continued, “We need each other for this, the oxytocin.” Nibbling at his lip you admitted wantonly, “I like it when you do bad things to me.”

He gripped your face as he forced you to look up at him. “Think you might be right, but let’s get one thing straight cause I’m a dodgy fucker myself. As long as you’re still breathing, don’t ever think of leaving me.” The low rumble of his voice hypnotized you in such a way you couldn’t deny him. You held his intense gaze as you shook your head.

“Never,” you vowed. 

And that’s how the evening began, plotting to take Tommy’s crown so you could become Alfie’s queen.

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

Tag List:

@shelbydelrey

@wandawiccan60   

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@theshelbyclan

@polishcrazyone

@little-diable

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dreamlandcreations

@cillmequick

@solomons-finest-rum

@potter-solomons

@hecatemoon87

@inkwolvesandcoffee

@buttercupsandboys

@liliac-dreamer

@vir-tual

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@margaret-morriss-secrethideout

[galaxyedging]

Marcus Moreno x f!reader

Warnings: protected P in V sex. Talk of sex work.

Summary: A new client finds her perfect match at one of the motel's Fantasy Weekends.

And It Just Keeps Getting Better

Part 2: It's Always the Quiet Ones.

The bass practically shook the walls of the reception hall.

"Someone go tell Omar to turn it down!" Pike calls as he joins the group outside.

"Tell him my hangover would thank him for it." Dieter adds, wincing as he rubs his temples.

"I have some oils that could soothe that, Princesa." Oberyn offers, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he looks at the permanently dishevelled man that he has taken quite a shine to.

"I'm good. Thanks." Dieter offers him a lop-sided smile of his own.

"Remember we need to circulate and talk to the guests. Not each other." Pike glanced at Oberyn's hand resting on Dieter's shoulder. "I'll have Omar turn the music down so we can actually hear them. Santos is serving food in an hour. That will give the guests time to choose from the other menu."

The Fantasy Weekend was always popular. It cost extra but guests were able to get to know the boys before they chose how they wanted to spend their weekend. Usually bookings were just made through Ezra. He would draw out every detail he needed to pair the person up with the perfect partner. Some were simple. A woman calls up looking for a cowboy, he books her in with Jack. A guy calls looking for the same thing, he gets Silva. Ezra enjoys the more complex ones. The one where he has to listen to what's being said between the words. The woman who insists she is not interested in romance and adamant that she just wants a rough, thrilling fuck. Ezra thinks the lady doth protest too much and sends her to Javier. They definitely gets her hard, satisfying fucking, there's no doubt about that. But a look from Javier's dark eyes that seem to magnify every emotion, shining with concern as he hands her a glass of water reminds her what she is missing out on. It's a cathartic realisation. It's okay to want something outside of the career she's worked so hard for.

Occasionally people ask what happens if they don't find their matches attractive. Ezra reassures them with a chuckle that they will. He's never had a customer who didn't fall for the charm of the boys.

"We have a couple of guests in the side room. Pike and I will tend to them." Moreno steps through the gathering of bodies. "You all know the drill. When Max has finished his introductions, go mingle. Javier and Din will keep an eye on everyone."

"Yes, boss." Jack tips his hat as Joel hides a smirk. Neither of them mind the Marcuses taking control of things, they just find their pathological need for organisation amusing.

Pike mutters a head count under his breath. "Wait, where's Dave?"

Frankie adjusts his cap and clears his throat. "He got a head start on things."

As if on cue Omar finally turned the music down. The sounds of ecstatic screaming came from above.

Dave York was like a predator, when the guests were herded in he would eye them up, looking for any weak ones to pick off. The timid little things were even more impressed by his prowess. That earned him a bigger tip, excellent word of mouth and repeat business. Plus it meant everything was on his terms, Dave hated to be dictated to. That was another reason he gave gatherings a miss. Once he lays his current client out for the night he might swing by to pick up someone who got off on the danger of him having someone else waiting for him. The wedding ring he wore fuelled the fantasy as he slipped his fingers into their panties to tease them before rapidly fucking them in a dark corner. Sending them on their way on shaking legs.

"Of course." Pike sighed.

"Here, at the Hotel de Deseo. We leave no wish unfulfilled!" Max finishes his intro with a flourish.

"Here we go." Joel yanks the doors open leaving those more comfortable with the attention to go in first. Of course, Oberyn and Dieter are first through. The crowd's gaze is mixed. Lust, approval and admiration cross their faces. Each of them give the men appraising glaces, up and down, before settling on the flower each man had pinned to their lapel, or sweater in Dieter's case. To aid the guests in their search for their perfect fantasy partner, each man wore a flower denoting their sexuality. Simple white blooms from the men that only slept with women. Green carnations for the men that only slept with men. Rainbow roses for everyone in between.

Silva and Gregor always elicited a few disappointed sighs from the women. The same goes for Joel, Pike and Moreno with the men.

Finally the pounding base was turned off. Every muscle in your body relaxed slightly, only for a moment. The nice woman, Mrs Lord, that showed you had given you a brief rundown of what to expect. After the dancing and mingling to loosen up. The men would enter and circulate, giving everyone time to work out who they'd like to spend the night with. From the cheering, you guessed that the men had entered. Suddenly you couldn't remember the courage that had brought you here. It was as if someone else called the number and made all the arrangements. Someone else picked a beautiful floral underwear set. Someone else delicately sprayed perfume over your decolletage, hoping that someone would get close enough to enjoy it. It wasn't an all together strange feeling to feel like someone else was controlling your body. Some days you felt like an imposter in it, just going through the motions of acting like a human being.

The door to the simply furnished side room you were sitting in opened. Kind brown eyes framed by thick black glasses meet yours as a smartly dressed man enters the room. He gives you a friendly smile as he edges closer giving you time to adjust to his presence.

"Hi, I thought there were two of you?" He glances around the small room as if he expects the other woman that was here to break out of the camouflage she's using to hide in the tiny room.

The owl-like motion makes you smile. "She got up the courage to go out there."

"But you're happy here…?" His question seems loaded as your fingers dig in the sofa cushions on either side of your thighs.

"Yeah, yes." A bubble of emotion bursts in your throat. "No. To be honest, I thought I could do this…I can't." Shaking your head, you hang it low.

"Can't do what? Sit on a sofa? That's all we're doing right now." The sofa dips on the other side under his weight. "There is absolutely no pressure to go any further with this. You can leave. We'll give you a refund of what you've paid so far. Since you have come all the way out here, maybe you could at least tell me what you're looking for."

"Sex." The word shoots out before you can stop it. You had an appreciation for honesty but that was blunt even for you. "I mean…"

Tiny laughter lines bloom on the man's face. He somehow manages to be even more attractive as he laughs at your candour. "It's okay. I appreciate your honesty. Sorry, forgive my bad manners. I'm Marcus. I'm here to help you find your perfect partner for the night, and the weekend if you'd like. I'm just going to ask you a few questions if that's okay?"

He flips over the clipboard on his lap.

"Yeah. Sure. Can I ask you a question?"

"Ask away. I'm here if you need anything at all."

"Are you one of the partners I could pick?"

When he nervously removes his glasses to clean them and you see his warm eyes properly, you're sure that he is the one. A relieved sigh leaves you when he answers. "Yes, I am."

Marcus diligently takes notes of everything you tell him. After Covid your company decided to have you work from home full time. In some ways it was a blessing. You didn't have to adjust to the world again. You could stay safe in your little bubble. Catering to your needs in a way the work environment just couldn't. The downside was that you met less people. There were less opportunities to find a partner organically. Dating apps and singles nights sounded like a nightmare. Plus you weren't sure if you wanted a relationship. A little human contact of the adult variety could probably keep you feeling fine for a while. That's when you'd heard about the motel. It sounded perfect. No messy social interaction. No second guessing people's intentions. Just a straightforward transactional exchange.

"It really is beautiful out here." Taking a lung full of fresh forest air, you relax as you look out across the lake.

"I thought you might like it. It's peaceful. I come out here to think."

"What do you think about? Sorry, is that too personal?"

"No. Just life I guess. I used to be in law enforcement. I retired for my daughter."

"You have a daughter?"

"Yeah, she lives with her mom. We divorced a couple of years back. I have her every other weekend. Sorry, maybe that was too personal." Marcus was always an open book with his clients when he felt that they needed to connect.

"No. I'm interested in what kind of man chooses to spend his weekends like this."

"A broke one if I'm honest. Some of the guys do it for fun. I got into it for the money but it does have its perks."

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm walking on the beach with a beautiful woman on a gorgeous night. What could be better?" The air between you became awkward. "Sorry. That sounded cheesy even to me. Oh, look we're here."

At the perfect moment you arrive at the beach cabin. It looks like a small one bedroomed log cabin. Recently made by your guess.

"This is Joel's handiwork. Working with wood is his passion." Marcus steps aside to allow you to enter the cabin.

The 'one bedroom' description was very accurate. It was literally a bedroom. A large high bed sat in the middle. A door to the left of it and a nightstand stocked with condoms and lube to the right of it.

"So what do we do now? Do we just have sex?"

Marcus gave you an adorable shy smile. "If that's what you want. How would you like to…"

"I don't know. It's been a while. I'm assuming the part still fit in the same way but I'm nervous about feeling comfortable in my body and want to do..to you."

"You don't have to do anything to me. I'll take care of everything."

The bed was soft but not as soft as Marcus's hands on your hips. His thumbs stroked circles on your bare flesh. His head was currently under your skirt. With your concerns about being naked in front of him he'd simply worked about your dress. Slipping your panties off to give him access before licking you intimately. It was better than you remembered and far better than any toy you had bought to satisfy your urges. His tongue had dipped inside you a couple of times before teasing your clit with kitten licks. A soft whine emanates from you when he brings you to a subdued orgasm.

Embarrassment wells inside you as he emerges with your slick covering his face. He made you feel so good yet you barely made a sound. He must be used to woman who scream his name not repressed woman who are terrified to utter a moan in case their neighbours hear.

"Was that good? You seem a little tense."

Marcus observes.

"It was. Very good. I just…I'm a little uptight naturally I guess."

"I can understand that. A few of the guys here tease me for that. Is there anything I can do to help you with that? How can I put you at ease?"

"No one will come out here, will they?"

"No, the party is still going on. I've booked the room so there's no need for them to."

"Could we put that radio on?"

"Sure, anything in particular you want?"

"No, something soft and can you turn it up?"

Marcus picked a soft Spanish station. The light guitar melody filled the air as he returned to you.

"Do you want me to make love to you now?"

"Yes. Marcus? Where would you like me to touch you?"

"I'll let you know."

Marcus eaes his pants down just far enough to free his sizable erection. Seeing you flinch he makes sure to add a generous amount of lube over the condom.

"Here we go." He pushes inside you like you're made of tissue paper. A slow gentle slide like he's afraid to rip you in two until he's fully inside you.

A strangled gasp cuts from you.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. I just forgot how good that was."

"Hopefully, it will just get better."

When he sees you forget how to breathe with his first thrust. He takes your hands in his holding them on the bed. "Just breathe."

The warmth of him filling you up is incredible. None of your toys can replicate this either. Or his kisses on your shoulder. A moan drifts out of you as you give yourself over to him. Willing yourself to untense and let him give you the satisfaction you came for.

As your body welcomes him, he speeds up. "Oh, that's it. You're taking me so well."

As Marcus lifts off of you slightly he strikes a new angle inside you. "Oh! Marcus."

"My name sounds so beautiful from your lips. Say it again for me, please?" He pumps his hips at the same angle.

"Oh, Marcus! Marcus!" The volume of your voice startles you but he is making you want to scream his name. Anyone in ear shot be damned. Your legs come up around his waist. Shifting you slightly he sinks deeper.

"Oh, yes! God!" Your head is thrown back into the pillows. You're sure that you look possessed. Wild and feral but you can't seem to care as he pounds into you. "Marcus. Marcus. Marcus." All shame leaves you as he builds another orgasm deep inside you. This one almost takes your breath with its intensity and it hasn't even crested yet.

Suddenly it does. "Marcus. Oh, yes. Marcus. Yes!"

"Oh, oh. I'm gonna…ooooh." Marcus adds a few moans of his own as he fills the condom.

Deciding to end the night on a high, that is where your time at the motel ends. Marcus sees you out. A cab picks you up from the front desk.

As Marcus waves you off Dave appears from his room. "Drove one away already Pike? That's a new record." He calls as he descends the stairs.

Marcus usually tries to rise above the barbs but seeing you bloom for him has his pride high. "Was the last record held by you and your stunning people skills?" He snipes at Dave.

"If I send them away it's for medical attention. I just had another one pass out on me." Dave calmly lights a cigarette as Marcus's head whips up his room. "Relax, Boy Scout. She's fine. Kyle's given her the once over. She apparently hadn't squirted before."

Dave finished half his cigarette before stubbing it out against the and throwing it in the trash. "Anyway it means I get to pull a double shift. You coming?"

Max and his wife watch from the office as the two of them walk away.

Marcus takes a last longing look after your cab before heading back to the party.

"I'm surprised we've made it this long with all the testosterone in this place." She teased him.

"Mi Amor, with you handpicking these men, how could we go wrong?"

[two-red-lungs]

write literally anything with dwayne go crazy do what you want i am so starved for content i am begging on my knees like that of a mere peasant

Absolutely will do queen here's a stupid little one-shot for you

Walk This Way (Just Gimme a Kiss)

TLB Dwayne/Fem!Reader Fluff

"Wasn't me she was foolin' 'Cause she knew what she was doin' And I know love is here to stay When she told me to walk this way! Walk this way!"

The music was tinny and compressed through the tacky tourist souvenir shop. Even over Aerosmith and the low murmur of the frothing summer boardwalk crowd outside the narrow doorway, the distant roar of the surf was audible.

You ran fingers through the waterfall waves of custom-name keychains, nodding and sideling to the side so a wandering polo-clad tourist could pass you in the front aisle. All tourists stood out like sore thumbs when you knew what to look for. Red-flash sunburns, fat brimmed golf sun visors, dressing like their plane was aiming for Hawaii and crash-landed on the California coast instead. All sure-fire signs of non-locals.

People nobody would kick up a major fuss over. It was Santa Carla after all: officers and neighbors would tut and shake their heads, muttering about how the city got so dangerous at night, how they should have been more careful.

Dwayne always loved how sharp an eye you had. Little hawk, he'd called you once. The other boys had laughed and hooted, repeating it mockingly, but you liked it. Damn if that hadn't made you preen for the rest of the night.

Lone tourist clocked, you scanned the crowded tchotchke store for the familiar face you were so accustomed to, but caught a glimpse of salt-worn leather instead. Dwayne was bent over a display.

"Hey." Hands in the pockets of your denim vest, you knocked at him with an elbow. "C'mon. I've got eyes on dinner."

Dwayne slowly turned around. His expression was stoic, impassive and serious, framed by dark hair. And perched on the bridge of his strong nose, like a majestic tropical bird? The most garish pair of sunglasses you'd ever laid eyes on. Semitranluscent lime-green plastic flecked with gargantuan sparkles and black shiny lenses, all capped off with twin painted palm trees that grew up from the frame corners.

Your entire face was scrunching up in a vain attempt at neutrality. "Lookin' cool."

A beat of silence.

"...Cool." He echoed. His brows slowly raised above the frames.

You lost it, laughing into the back of your hand and swiping at his face to get rid of the horrid things. He ducked your clumsy human swipes easy enough, fingers only finding open air, before breaking into a slow, warm smile and plucking them off his own face. Dwayne settled the eyewear behind your ears and dropped it down onto your nose with a thunk.

"Wow. Thank you." You tried to deadpan, diaphragm still spasming. When he flicked some of your hair to the side, settling it around the arms of the glasses, you let him, figuring he was trying to salvage the look. But then he plopped a hot, broad palm on the crown of your head and mussed your locks and you squawked, batting him away.

Dwayne always laughed so low and warm, like a big cat. "You look stupid." He told you, satisfied.

"Oh yeah, who's fault is that?" You grumbled, yanking off the glasses and shaking your mane out in a vain attempt at returning it to normalcy. As you did so, Dwayne let filament-fine strands of your hair filter through his fingers almost possessively. He waited for you to set the glasses down on the rack before closing the few inches of space between you and craning his head down for a kiss.

Not so much a request, but a demand. One you eagerly conceded to. Dwayne was... oomph. A wall of force. A bull, a heavyweight, a tsunami, and that was on a good day. He was David's first pick for throwing a punch in a gang fight, and with good reason: you could feel strength almost humming inside him like a live wire. Passing like a current through his soft mouth, though his fine layer of stubble that rasped against your upper lip.

There were fingers messing with your vest pocket. The sunglasses returned to your posession. "Keep 'em." Dwayne rolled a noise in the back of his throat, pulling back just enough to look down at you through thick lashes. "It'll be your disguise."

"Disguise. Sure." Your voice cracked for a second: he made you crazy with alarming frequency. You could swear your tongue was buzzing where he had nudged it so softly, so fucking suavely, with the tip of his own a second ago. Fucking tease.

"Yeah. Put them on, you're some random goonie. Take them off, and you're my favorite girl again." He flashed you that smug, shit-eating smile, the smile that said I know I'm all that, I know I'm six feet of all the shit that makes you weak. I always know exactly what to say to you.

You opened your mouth. You closed it again. Dwayne's dark eyes twinkled. "Dinner's leaving." You croaked out eventually.

He hummed. "Fast food. Sounds good."

Then he was off like a shot, smooth-paced striding across the store and flowing around obstacles like water, and you were scrambling after him. The hunter and his loyal little hunting hawk. Tale as old as time, right?

[pure-garbage]

One Calm Moment... Lana's Carefully Planned Revenge

Zoro didn't see Lana again until the crew was reassembled on the Thousand Sunny. She didn't approach him until they were already under the water, but Zoro didn't feel like she was shunning him. Rather, he just assumed she was taking her time reuniting with the rest of the friends she hadn't seen in such a long time.

It had been a few days since he'd thought about the way she'd stormed away from him, but as she settled behind him, the incident came back to mind.

"What a great view," she sighed at his ear.

"Lots of fish," he said cautiously. 'Is she still angry? I'm not interested in walking on eggshells. Why does she have to be so high maintenance?'

"Hm. No surprise there," Lana said idly. "Think we'll see any shipwrecks?"

Her hands crept up to his shoulders while she spoke. He tensed at her touch at first, but his unease melted away as she began to massage him from behind. Lana could be petty and vengeful, but he sensed no trace of ill-will in her intentions. If anything, her mood seemed to border on playfulness. It also didn't hurt that her firm fingers felt absolutely heavenly as they dug skillfully into taut muscle and sinew.

He breathed a sigh that was equal parts relief and pleasure.

"Shipwrecks aren't that exciting," he yawned, concerns all but forgotten. 'So much for her 'giving me hell' for that little training exercise. She's all talk as usual.'

"Rotting wood, maybe a few old bones," Lana agreed. Brook wandered past, cracking jokes in passing.

"Yes, we can see enough bones aboard this vessel without any need for sinking. Yo-ho-ho-ho!" he chuckled, almost more to himself than the others. "Because... I'm nothing but bones, get it? D'you get it?"

"I get it!" Nami snapped at him.

Lana laughed a little, but didn't let her attention wander far from Zoro.

"How about sea monsters?" she proposed.

"We'll definitely see some monsters," he supposed aloud.

"Think Luffy'll try to eat them?" Lana went on.

"Either that or invite them to join the crew," Zoro grumbled. Their next thought was voiced in unison.

"Or both."

"Or both."

Lana's fingers brushed the back of Zoro's neck, resting on his skin.

'Now... calm-calm time out!'

He slumped bonelessly against her. She caught his limp form, a wicked smirk spreading across her features.

"Now, for my revenge!" she cackled deviously. "My hand still hurts, you big oaf! Did you think I would forget to give you hell for that little game of yours?"

He couldn't hear her, let alone respond, so she was effectively talking to herself. She reached into her pocket and whipped out a black marker. She flipped it skillfully between her fingers, tearing the cap off with her teeth while her left hand remained glued to the back of Zoro's neck.

She went to work drawing spiky horns on his forehead, then blocking over his eyebrows dramatically. She slapped a shakily traced pair of glasses around his eyes, then drew open triangles under them for good measure. She gave him kitty whiskers, a thick handlebar mustache and a sharply pointed goatee.

Nearly out of space, she took a moment to admire her handiwork. As an afterthought, she added a heart to the center of his forehead and jotted her initials inside.

Satisfied, Lana put the marker away and released Zoro from the hold of her devil fruit power. He picked up right where he'd left off, unaware that he'd missed so much as a beat of their conversation.

"I wouldn't mind some roasted sea king myself," he mused.

"Depends on the variety," Lana giggled, continuing to rub his shoulders as if nothing had happened. "Some taste better than others."

"You're not wrong."

Lana had gained an audience while she was doodling on Zoro. Brook, Franky and Chopper gaped at the pair, while Nami covered a giggle with her hand. The gawking wasn't lost on Zoro.

"You guys need something?" he prompted, baffled.

Behind him, Lana put a finger to her lips with a silent wink.

"Well?" Zoro demanded of their friends.

Their crewmates all burst out laughing, further puzzling Zoro.

"Maybe the atmospheric pressure down here is getting to them," Lana suggested slyly.

"Maybe," Zoro shrugged. "Ohh, Lana?"

"Mm?"

"Little harder, right there. Yeah... damn, I missed your back rubs."

____________________________________

"YOU IDIOTS!"

When Zoro, Luff and Sanji finally made it back aboard after fighting the kraken and being separated from the ship, no one was surprised that Nami had words for them. What was surprising, however, was the fact that Lana joined her in the lecture this time.

"Yeah, why couldn't you just take the damned rope?!" she berated the boys, brow twitching from stress that caught Zoro off guard.

"Come on, Lana, not you too!" he scoffed. "Don't tell me you didn't think we could take care of ourselves out there! We're back now and we're fine, so what's the problem?"

"I know you can take care of yourselves, moron!" Lana seethed. Nami focused her wrath on Sanji, apologizing with starry eyes, and Luffy, picking his nose and gazing idly into the far distance. "But this whole environment is out to kill us! It's not natural of us to be down here! Don't you get it?! What if your bubble popped, what then?! Or were you planning to slice the depths until you convinced them not to crush you to death or drown you?!"

Zoro grumbled, but couldn't deny she had a decent point.

"Fine, I'll take the rope next time, geez. Don't act so serious, you're turning into Nami. One worrywart aboard this ship is already more than enough," he acquiesced with a roll of his eyes. He still looked ridiculous, face covered in markings that made it hard for Lana to take the situation seriously, even though she was incredibly, unbelievably upset with the idiotic lapse of judgement. His next words were so hilariously oblivious that her anger couldn't hold up against the humor of the scene.

"Fix your face, why don't you," he went on. "Why does it always look like that?"

"Like what?" Lana asked, unable to stop herself from cracking a smile as he pinched her cheek hard.

"So damn stupid," he griped.

"You're one to talk," she giggled.

Even if his face wasn't still covered in the doodles that represented her vengeance, she knew she wouldn't have been able to stay mad at him.

_____________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[wonderinglostsoul]

Chapter 3: Criminal Minds fanfic

Continuation of my Criminal minds fanfic. I really suck at titles. Anyway, you can read it in wattpad.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You are an FBI agent with a past and you were about to enter the BAU.

Trigger warning: BAU stuff like killing, violence, assault, mention of rape and suicide. I tried not to get too graphic with the description

Masterlist

JJ and Morgan went to the crime scene while Spence and Dave go to the medical examiner. You and Hotch went to the police station. You set up the evidence on the board while Hotch was reading the initial ME report. All of the victims was tortured first before they were killed.

“The unsub is organized and sadistic.” Hotch said. Still reading the medical report.

“Yes, I wonder why does he needs to torture them? Is that part of the sexual gratification?” You asked him.

“Yes, when he torture the victim he was able to satisfy himself as well.” Hotch answered.

“And all of the victims was last seen on a bar on a friday. And would disposed the body at the middle of the week.” You told him. You were reading the medical report too when Hotch asked you.

“What else can you say about the MO and the unsub based on the ME report.” Hotch asked you. He was like a teacher giving a graded recitation.

“Hmmm, based on the ME report there are no defensive wounds so the victims was tied during the torture and they cannot fight the unsub.” You answered.

“Good, what else?” Hotch was pressing.

“I also dont see any blitz attack on them or anything that can subdue the victim. So the victims might have come with the unsub willingly.”

“Very good, [Y/L]. We need to check the cctv of the bar to see if there are any clue on who is the unsub. Please call, Garcia.” Hotch told you. You call Garcia to ask for the security footage. While Hotch called the rest of the team to visit the bar where the victims was last seen.

“Come on, we will visit the bar our last victim went.” Hotch told you. You followed him into the SUV.

You were quiet on the way. Then Hotch asked you about your gun.

“So where do you hide your gun?” He asked, you were puzzled what he was talking about but realize he meant your snipping gun.

“Ahh, it was at the back of the SUV.” You answered. Pointing at the pack with your thumb.

“When did you learn to snipe.” He asked you again.

“I actually cannot remember anymore. I first hold a gun when I was a kid.” You told him.

“That young, your dad’s a cop?” He asked.

“No, he was in interpol” You answered. You glanced at him and see that he was surprised.

“He died,” You continued. “He and my mom, they died in a crash.”

“ I am sorry.” He said.

“Its fine,” You said. You look away. You are not yet keen to open up your sad past to anyone much more with you boss. Good thing you are already at your destination.

You and Hotch entered the bar. It was almost empty. The bartender was cleaning up the glass as you approach. You introduced yourself and show him your badge.

“What can I do for the FBI?” He asked.

“Do you recognize this woman?” You show him the picture of the latest victim.

“Ahh yes, Anne Boyle. She is a regular here. Always one with the boys. She was a little boyish but you know she was so beautiful.” The bartender answered. She looks at you for a moment and then remarked “Just like you. I bet you look beautiful in a dress and make up.”

You and Hotch glanced at each other. Now you both realize at to what extent you fit the victimology.

“When was the last time you saw her.” you continue asking.

“Last friday night. She was here alone, you know capping a busy week with a couple of beers.” He answered.

“Do you remember if someone approach her that night?” Hotch asked this time.

“Yes, Andrew Smith.” The bartender said.

“What did they talked about?” I asked back.

“I actually did not hear but Anna seems to be smitten. They went out together.” The bartender said.

“One more thing,” You said “Is she wearing a red dress and read shoes?”

“Anna? NO! She is a tshirt and pants kind of girl. She hates dresses.” The Bartender said with a laugh.

“Thank you.” You said.

You and Hotch went back to the SUV. You were quiet again, thinking about the case. Hotch breaks the silence.

“Are you okay?” He asked you.

“Yeah, just thinking about this case.” You answered, still not feeling it.

“You dont have to worry.” Hotch said. “We will protect you.”

You finally look at him. He glanced at you and gave you a little smile. He looks like a different person whenever he smiles.

“Thank you!” You said, smiling back at him.

You arrived at the station and the rest of the team was there. Hotch gathered all the information that you’ve got on the bar and one name emerge, Andrew Smith.

The police invited Mr. Smith to the station, Morgan and Rossi was doing the interrogation. They were asking him about the night of the disappearances and his alibi but he was not cooperating. Then Hotch receives a call, another woman has disappeared. He called Morgan and Rossi to tell them the new development.

“There is another victim. Her family reported her missing this morning.” Hotch said.

“But it is not yet Friday, how are we sure that this is related to this?” Morgan asked.

“The police said that he was last seen at the bar with Andrew Smith.” Hotch answered.

“So all of this was related to this man.” Rossi added. He gets his cellphone and dialed Garcia’s number.

“I thought you all have forgotten me and just let me rot in this cave.” She said sadly.

“We are sorry, Garcia.” Rossi comforted her. “But can you find anything with Andrew Smith?”

“Andrew Smith” Garcia said. You can hear the clicking of the keyboard in the background. “He is a local there. His family owns a farm house in the rural area.

He is an athlete when he was in highschool but oh…” Garcia trailed.

“What is it baby girl?” Morgan asked.

“He was expelled because of a raped allegation on one of his classmate. Christine Stan.” Garcia answered. “Christine killed herself leaving only a suicide note detailing the assault”

“Does Christine looked like our victims.”Rossi asked.

“Yes, they have a resemblance. I sent the details on your tablet.” Garcia said.

“Thanks, Penelope.” Rossi ended the call. The picture arrives at your tablet. Upon seeing her, you noticed the resemblance immediately. The hair color, facial feature, body type. You even have the same tshirt she was wearing at the picture at home. with this, you have an idea on how to force the suspect to talk.

“I want to go in.” You said. The 3 men look at you. They were contemplating. “I resemble her, might as well used that to our advantage.”

“I’ll come in with you” Hotch offered.

“No, if there is another man there, he will be intimidated and will not talk.” You said, You can see that he is worried, in fact even Morgan and Rossi is worried.

“I’ll ask JJ to come with you.” Hotch said going out of the room. You shake your head in frustration. Why cant he trust you with anything. You are not a weak little girl. You are an FBI agent. But you cannot do anything, he is still the boss. So you waited for JJ and when she arrives both of you went inside the interrogation room. As you expected, the suspect’s demeanor changed the moment he saw you. He started crying and provided all the information that you needed. You asked him where he bring the victims.

“They did not come with me.” He said.

“So what happened when you got them outside?” You asked puzzled.

“We just talked for a little while, make out thats it and the I left them. They were so angry after that but I cannot make myself to bring them somewhere and have sex so I just took off.” He said sheepishly. You know he was telling the truth. His demeanor does not match the unsub because in your mind the unsub would not break even with the site of someone like you. You and JJ exited the room to talked to everyone.

“I dont think he is the unsub.” JJ said.

“I agree.” You seconded. “His physical attributes might much our unsub but his mental state? He cannot do any of that. He started crying just by seeing me.” You added.

“I think we can deliver the profile.” Hotch said. “[Y/N], I think you can lead this one.”

Infront of the the Las Vegas PD you deliver your first profile.

“Our unsub is a white male in there 30s. Has some kind of connection with a woman named Christine Stan and Andrew Smith. He follows Mr. Smith on his trip to the bar and pick up the girls that he left there. He is physically fit and cannot be easily intimidated. He is also good looking and charismatic because he can easily manipulates his victim to come with him without anything to subdue them. You have to start checking every person that has a relation with Christine Stan to crack this case. Thank you!” The police started to disperse and start investigating.

Aaron approach the head of the PD to get Christine’s case file while Morgan calls Garcia to check the people related to her. Reid was studying the map to find any connection while JJ and Rossi was talking to some officer. You thought that maybe Andrew can provide you with more information if you do a cognitive interview so you went back to the interrogation room alone. His eyes light up when he saw you.

“Andrew, I wanted to try something with you. I want you to close your eyes and remember that night you were with Jessica (Latest victim). what do you hear?” You asked.

“I hear the muffled sound of the bar outside. There are groups of people arriving. They were talking and laughing.” He said while his eyes were closed.

“Good! Thats good. While you were talking to Jessica do you notice anyone around around you, a car, or someone that closely monitoring you.”

“Yes, it was a sedan, alittle bit older. It arrived the same time as I did but the driver did not go out. When I left I got a glimpse of the driver door opening but I did not see what happens after that” He said. Then he slowly opened his eyes.

“Do you remember anything from the car. Make, model, plate number?” You continue asking.

“It was a black american made car. Las Vegas plate. I remember 843 but thats all.” He answered.

“Thank you very much!” You were about to stand up when Andrew get a hold of your hand and pulled you closer. The half part of your body slammed at the table. Suddenly the door opened and Hotch emerges at the door. You can see that he was furious. He pulled you away from Andrew and you stand away from the table. Reid was at the door as well waiting to assist if needed. Hotch looks furiously at Andrew. He glanced at you and ask if you were okay. You said yes even if you lower right ribs hurt after it slammed on the table. You all went out and asked Garcia to find someone who owns the car as described by Andrew.

“The owner is Micheal Tate. He was at the same high school with Andrew and Christine. Ohhh they were on the same class. I also got Christines suicide note and she mentioned Michael there. I sent the copy to your tablets. I also sent his house and work address.” Garcia said.

“Thanks Garcia” you said. You read the note. Christine was thanking Michael for always being her only friend and she was sorry to leave him.

“Morgan and Reid you go to his house. JJ, Rossi you come with me and check his work place.” Aaron said.

“What about me?” You asked.

“You stay here.” He said with conviction. You went closer with him and whispered trying not to undermine his authority infront of the team.

“Come on, Hotch. I am not a kid. I am more valuable out there than to stay here. Besides I am the one who got you all that detail. Have a little faith in me.” You said as low as possible but still with conviction. He looked at you in the eye and then nod.

“Fine, go with Morgan and Reid.” He said. You half smiled and went with your team.

On the way, you did not see any place where you can set up your sniper. So you just join Morgan and Reid in the house but he was not there. Reid called you in his room and saw old photos of Christine and the unsub. He made an altar for her.

You investigate inside the room when you noticed a shed outside the window. You saw movement so you tell Morgan and Reid about it. When they look at the window the unsub started running into the woods. You called back up and opened the window to follow the unsub. You figure it was faster then going around the house.

“REID! GO TO THE SHED AND CHECK IF THE VICTIM WAS THERE.” You shouted while running. You can still see the unsub but he has a huge head start with you.

“STOP OR I’LL SHOOT. “ You shouted at him 3 time. when he did not stop, you shot him aiming for his legs. But due to the recoil of the gun, your ribs ache again and you missed him.

“Damn it!” You exclaimed under your breathe. The unsub was able to hide through the trees and vegetation. You slowly approached, gun raised. You walk carefully scanning every tree and leaves. You saw a movement on your periphery then with a snap you turn and pointed the gun. The unsub froze in shock.

“Show me your hands and kneel on the ground.” You said. He looked at you and he seems to recognize you. So you slowly lowering your weapon so he could get a look at your face. Then all of a sudden he smiled and bolted again in a run. You tried to follow him but he was gone already. He knows the forest more than you do. You can hear Morgan near the place the unsub was gone so you went there. You were able to see Morgan but not the unsub.

You radio the rest of Vegas PD to search for Michael. You and Morgan went back to join Reid. He was with the victim. They were riding the ambulance. Morgan called Hotch and told him what happened. Hotch said it was fine and both of you should go back to the station and think of another approach to catch the unsub.

On the car Morgan asked if you were okay. It is somehow disheartening that all of them has to take care of you within this case. You feel so vulnerable.

“I am fine. I am sorry I let him slip.” You said somehow feeling guilty.

“That is not your fault. He knows the whole place more than we do. He might have a escape plan all along” Morgan tried to comfort you.

“You, Hotch and the rest of the team, you all have to babysit me throughout the case. You always ask if I was ok or if I need company. I just feel worthless” You said.

“Thats not true. We know the unsub because of you. Without your ideas we might not be able to identify who he is”

“Reid can, he will for sure,” You said jokingly.

“But you beat him to it.” Morgan teases. You smiled at him.

“Thank you!” You said to him.

You arrived at the station before the rest of the team. Hotch’s team drop by at the hospital first to check on the victim. You were inside the police station when you noticed that you left your phone in the car.

“Morgan! Can I borrow the key? I forgot my phone on the car.” You told him. He handed you the key but get the attention of one of the officer.

“Hey, man can you accompany Agent [Y/N] to the car?” The officer was hesitant because he was busy but still agreed. When you were at the entrance and Morgan was not looking, you told the officer that you can go alone and that the car was just there in the front. He asked you if it is ok and you said yes so he went back inside. You arrived at the car and open the passenger seat. You found your phone in the chair. It might have fell out of your pocket. When you closed the door someone struck you from behind. Before you lost your consciousness, you saw that your attacker was the unsub

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: March 2023

It’s getting nicer out but I’m still spending plenty of time indoors watching and reading things, don’t you worry.

……….FILM……….

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) It’s been years since I’ve gone back to this and it really is one of the best superhero movies ever made, right? I hope the next one succeeds and it leads to more animated features. It just...you can do so much more. Sure the live-action superhero movies have a lot of animation but they’re bound by our physics and the uncanny valley and it’s just not the same.

……….TELEVISION……….

Ted Lasso (Episode 3.01 to 3.03) Glad to be back. It’s been interesting seeing the online rise, then fall, then rise again of support for this show but honestly, who cares? Do you like watching it? Great. Do I like watching it? Absolutely. It’s a project that was planned from season 1 and it shows and I wish more media was approached in this way.

Spy x Family (Episode 1.08 to 1.25) Okay needed to shift my expectations with this one. I really thought we’d get more of Yor and her assassin life. She’s kinda just a background character to Loid and Anya and that feels like a missed opportunity.

The Great (Episode 2.09 to 2.10) Great cap to the season. Full arcs for characters, a satisfying resolution and yet still enough of a hook to get me excited for the third season. Just some gorgeous, funny, dramatic television. Big fan.

……….YOUTUBE……….

Why everything you buy is worse now and How America’s richest donate their money by Vox Okay the first one really helped explain why stuff seems to be lower quality and it’s not just “better back in my day” sorta stuff. It’s just chasing that elusive profit, you know? And seeing the stats on how the wealthy donate was eye-opening. Taxes seem good. VIDEO (Worse Now) VIDEO (Richest Donations)

AI and Image Generation (Everything is a Remix Part 4) by Kirby Ferguson I’ve always appreciated the Everything is a Remix series and this only reinforces that. A measured response to AI image generation and what that means, why it’s flawed, and what happens next. VIDEO THE FULL PROJECT

What Does Glass Onion Have to Do with US? by Vivian Strange Okay a lengthy one but worth it. A new perspective on Glass Onion, a refresher on why I really liked US, and a really great connection between the two. Also a really great breakdown of the murder mystery as a genre as well and why it’s having a resurgence. All around great stuff. VIDEO

……….READING……….

Arabian Nights (Companion Library Edition) (Page 124 of 244) Thrifted this and for some reason never knew it was a collection of short stories? Which seems obvious now. Anyway I’m sooooo slow at really short story collections but they’ve been interesting to read. Something about the translation feels like a slog to actually read but the stories included are a lot of fun. 

Wonderland Revisited and the Games Alice Played There by Keith Sheppard (Complete) I’m super picky when it comes to adaptations of Carroll’s works. Many take Wonderland and make it dark, twisted, and mature (meh) but I find the more interesting take is one that continues with the same momentum. This one doesn’t quite work in capturing the spirit of the original books for me but there’s a lot of really great ideas in here.

Superman for all Seasons by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale (Complete) Having loved their Batman books I picked this up and, being younger and dumber, didn’t like it at the time. Where was the action? Where were the villains? I was naive. Going back to this I really appreciate the study of Superman, the narrative through the supporting cast, and the struggles that can’t be resolved through punching. Man Loeb & Sale were a team.

Fantastic Four: Full Circle by Alex Ross (Complete) As an one-off story, this delivers everything I’d want out of an FF adventure: group banter, weird worlds, and lots of mumbo jumbo science. Plus I mean the artwork is truly humbling. I had to read it twice and I still only 80% understand it all but that’s not a complaint. Totally worth picking up if you have even a passing interest in the Fantastic Four.

Ultimate Spider-Man Volume 5 & 6 by by Brian Michael Bendis, Mark Bagley, and more  (Complete) Decided to pick up with my reread of the Ultimate Spider-Man series again and woof I forgot how much I didn’t like volume 5. The first half is an Ultimates story that I STILL find too wordy, and the movie tie-in of the second half never quite clicked. I dunno maybe there are too many losses and not enough wins for Parker in this one? Volume 6, however, is great. It has one of the most frustrating deaths in the series but it really explores the aftermath and impact. And introducing Johnny Storm and using him as the reason Spider-Man gets back into the hero stuff is really great. Spider-Man doesn’t need to solve all problems with punches and this book gets that.

……….AUDIO……….

Wild Planet by The B-52s (1980) After listening to a greatest hits album on repeat as a kid, I’m going back to the early stuff. Can’t get Private Idaho out of my head.

FREE I.H.: This Is Not the One You've Been Waiting For by Illuminati Hotties (2020) They always pop up in lists when I search for “more stuff like Sleigh Bells” but it finally clicked for me after listening to content//bedtime. Love this album.

……….GAMING……….

Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) Whoa okay so my weekly group just fled the land of the Fairies after some drama with the Queen of the realm (you can read about it here) and then my Mof1 game ALSO had some Fairy drama involving the Queen. Apparently she’s a dramatic lady.

And that’s it. See you in April!

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Stress relief. (Ibram Gaunt x OFC)

This is part one of a maybe two parter in which case part two will be smut lmao I am a whore okay.

But this part is just Leta and Ibram having a moment of almost domestic bliss.

The whole point of time away from the battlefield was to rest, to relax, get drunk and forget for one moment that you’re practically committing suicide on a daily bases.

Leta was realizing, as she watched the sun dip below the horizon, that the ones in command never get to relax, Gaunt had left just before breakfast for a meeting and she hadn’t seen him since. 

The hotel room was nice, there were worst places to be left alone, it was grand and was not only a bedroom, but also a sitting room and rather large bathroom, with a bathtub so big Leta could swim laps in it.

She had woken around noon and ordered lunch to be delivered to her room, roast duck, roasted vegetables and creamy mashed potatoes, with gravy, and of course desert, a large ice cream sundae, with a bottle of wine to wash it all down with.

The door opened with a soft hum, and she heard Ibram speaking.

“That’ll be all for tonight Milo..” She couldn’t hear the boy's reply, but Ibram chuckled “Yes, go eat and sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully not as early.”

Leta rose from the bed and crossed to the door, in the sitting room she watched as Ibram removed his coat, and hung it up, then his cap, then his boots.

“Lets?” He called “You here?”

She opened the door, now satisfied that no one would see her, not that no one knew she was here, of course everyone knew that on vacation, Leta was with Gaunt, no more pub nights with the boys for her, but she didn’t really want anyone to see her wearing one of Gaunt’s shirts and little else.

“Sorry Princess..” Ibram sighed “It has been a long day.”

“Anything interesting?”

He raised an eyebrow “You know I can’t tell you.”

“It was worth a try.” 

She walked towards him, the plush navy blue carpet tickling between her toes, once she reached him, he put his arms around her and placed his head on top of hers.

She put her arms around him and nuzzled his chest.

“You ate then I see..”

He must have noticed the empty dish and wine glass.

“You were gone all day.”

“Remember I have to pay for that.”

“You can afford it I’m sure.”  

He chuckled “I missed you.”

She smiled, “Missed you too.”

His hands dropped to her ass and gripped her tightly before lifting her up, she giggled and wrapped her legs around his waist. 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to listen to people drone on about ration supplies when I know you’re waiting for me in bed?” 

She did know, out in the field, it was easy to push all her neediness to the back of her mind, she was at work, so to speak, if she started day dreaming about Ibram, she’d be killed or she’d let someone else be killed, she needed to be alert.

But throne damnit this was her time off, it was supposed to be him and her together, they deserved that.

“What happened to not letting our relationship affect our duties?” She teased, kissing his neck just above his starched collar “Hmm?”  

“It didn’t affect my duties..” He started to walk towards the bedroom “I asked questions and nodded in the correct places..”

“And had poor Milo write everything down because it was all going in one ear and out the other?”

“Exactly.”

He dropped her on to the mattress, she bounced, which was a surprise, she was used to the almost stone like surface of a cot, he then sat on the edge and attempted to undo his cufflinks, cursing as they remained in place.

“Let me.”

The cufflinks were gold and round, nothing overly flashy but still a sign of rank. 

She undid them and then placed them on the bedside table.

“What would I do without you?”

“Brinnie boy would have to do it.” She smiled, she had picked up Bragg’s nickname for Milo, and she knew that it made the younger man blush, so naturally she used it around him every time she saw him.

“You terrify the shit out of him, you know that?”

She laughed “What? Little old me?”

“Poor boy doesn’t have much experience with girls from what I can gather and then you stride up in your combat boots and he doesn’t know what to do.” 

“I got that impression from him…I will try to be less scary.”

She sat in his lap and started to undo his shirt, he released the tension from his shoulders, Leta imagined a world where this was how they always were, where he was the hard working husband and she was the stay-at-home wife who cooked and cleaned, who sewed the buttons back on his shirts, who listened to his worries.

But then they wouldn’t be Ibram and Leta would they? The whole reason they worked was because of who they were.

Ibram and Leta.

Middelocke and Gaunt. 

Two sides of the same coin.

“What? No kissing every bare inch of my chest?” 

“You almost sound disappointed.” She smiled as the last button came undone. “You look tired and a man of your age needs a rest after such a hard day.” 

“I’m only twelve years older than you.”

“Exactly, you're middle aged.”

He chuckled and placed his hands on her hips, underneath the shirt so his rough fingertips made me giggle as they tickled her.

“You do look tired, though, love..” She kissed his chest, right above his heart “And I was thinking a nice relaxing bath would help.” 

“You’re obsessed with your fething baths.”

“It's so nice not to have to ask Bragg to keep watch so no one spies on me..” 

He lowered his face to hers and kissed her softly

“Perhaps I’ll start showering with you…scare away any spies..”

“I think that would give them an entirely different thing to spy on..”

He chuckled and rubbed his face against her neck “Might improve morale.”

She laughed “Run it past Corbec, see what he says.”  

“Actually on further consideration, It would lower morale..because everyone would be so jealous of how I get to bed the most beautiful, gorgeous woman in the galaxy.”

He kissed her neck, right below her ear. 

“They’d be green with envy.”

“Some already are, I'm sure..”  

“They can be as green as orks..won’t change the fact that you’re mine.”

She grinned, she’d never tire of him saying that, it drove her crazy and he knew it.

He stood up, taking her with him.

“Now..I think I will have that bath, but only on the condition, you join me.”

“Naturally, did you think I wouldn’t?”

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Saturday 8.. March 1840

4 50/..

11 55/..

and we are to be off again in 3 hours (at 5 a.m.) – vid Schnitzler vol. 1 p. 691 his mention of the Carte de Mr. Lapie of Russia good – lay down on my mattresses in my chalat (having taken off my gown and handkerchiefs) at 2 50/.. expecting to be called at 4 ½ - so much bit under my chin, that was sometime before I could fall asleep but I think I slept about an hour+ till A- called me and I jumped up at 4 50/.. – no water – no anything .:. ready in 10 minutes and waited impatiently – at last by ding of pother got us off from Wiazowskayaand its cockroaches at 5 ½ - gave the woman a 30kop. silver piece = 1/05 with which she seemed very well satisfied –

5 ½ to 9 10/.. Wiazowskaya to Staritskaya 25

9 27/.. to 11 40/.. S- to Tschernoy Jars (gorod) 21

46

 tho’ we had only 25v. to go, it took us 3 40/.. hour snowing all the way, and cold wind driving the snow about us, and in at the top of the kibitka on the off (A-‘s) side – very cold – R-12° dehors said Gross iin the courtyard on the snow on leaving W- but it was sheltered from the cold wind, and lying under the buildings – great deal of snow on our road already a little drifted in places so that we could seldom go out of foots’ pace – Staritskaya a village – the cottages thickly covered with snow – very wintry picturesque – Station house a good cottage of 2 rooms one (left) nice little warm room with oven-stove, and, bright live embers in it, and looking very comfortable – our courier had left his cap and shube there .:. I withdrew and all our people and soon took possession – wattled farm-yards and sheds and the loghouses (some neat good little cottages) plastered up with mud in the seams of the loss – did not see a church – 8 minutes in trotting till we got out of the village and yet we seemed to leave a still further length of street to our left – wrote the above notes as we drove off – very cold work writing

my fingers’ ends ached with the cold (being obliged to take off my little fir mittens to enable me to hold my pen) – R-11 ½° lying on the in-driven snow in the corner of the kibitka in the draught from the off (A-‘s – west) side – never had R- so low before in our kibitka – our hands and feet were very cold when we reached Tchernoy Jar Tchernoï Jar (bord nord.) (Black bord, rive, or bank vid. Schnitzler i. p. 602) we had had hardly met or passed one person on the road, and the snow falling made the atmosphere so thick we could scarce see a 12 yards before us – on alighting George said the courier de poste had gone 2v. forwards and then returned – so thick he could not find his way – no road – all snowed up and very few guide – or road-posts this way – A- and I had tasted nothing since last night – glad of breakfast but 1 ¼ hour before we could get the Semovar to boil – our little room the least we have ever been in – about 3 yards square and about 2ft. to 2ft. 6in. of one side taken up by stove and bedstead – the woman raked up the braise, in the stove – but still R stood at only 8 ½° of heat, and the little door opposite the single wind (single glass) opening into the little anteroom exactly opposite the outdoor, made our little room cold – tho’ the little door like all the inner doors (and outer doors, too, of cottages) hereabouts is low shutting against a threshold 7 or 8in. or more above the floor, like ancient doors with us – the reason is plain – to keep out the draught of cold air from under the door along the bottom of the room – Had George in to know if we could go one – he said the weather was no clearer outside the town (nice little village-like town – see no church) but the [?] (drivers) would go if I liked – the next stage 30v. thought they could get there by midnight – but then we must go 31v. farther for Goatschewskay a mere village – nothing but isbas – it would be difficult for us to sleep there – but a good government station at Vetlaninskaya a 2nd stage from here – It was now after 2 – no use in being 8 or 9 house sin going 30v. and then being obliged to go 31v. farther – stay all night here – off to look at a good house near where travellers usually go to sleep – the house empty – the people were at dinner in a smaller house the kitchen-house on the other side the courtyard – went there 6 good looking better sort of peasants and the lady of the house and her 2 women cooking dinner and serving the plats from the stove oven in the little place (kitchen) adjoining – carême – (lent) manger maigre – fish tchee (soup – cabbage and fish instead of cabbage and meat soup) – some cold salted salmon and lastly blinis (blēēnys) the sort of little thickish wheat flour pancake the size of the inside of common English dinner plate – sat down for a minute or [2] and tasted all [?] to their great amusement – agree for one good room at 1/. per day – dinner at ./50 each – and came kibitkas and all settled here at 3 1/3 – heated by 2 poches, 3 doors, 3 windows, single glass as very general of late – one room about 5 ½ yards square – the board-walls painted a yellowish darkish green with a festoon of flowers over each door, and 3 scripture pictures St. John Baptists

SH:7/ML/E/24/0037

head on a tray-table a young man holding it (left hand) by the hair, and right leaning on a long large broad sword with cap and fur-lined handsome shube on (meant for Herod?), and 2nd angel and [?] Abraham going to slay his son – and 3rd Daniel in the lions’ den (8 lions – an angel over man (like Daniel himself) with book (bible) in his hand in the clouds – and from top of wall the king and 2 turbaned [?] looking down upon Daniel) – the ceiling an 8tagon of a lightish blueish green with a medallion in the middle (a woman feeding 2 swans a circular medallion surrounded by garland of roses, marigolds, panseys [pansies], forget-me-nots, and something else – the medallions a tree in full leaf with [nosegays] of flowers lying by – a tree full of white apples – a tree in full leaf with vines with [ripe] blue grapes by it, and a parcel of naked small trunks of trees – sundry garlands on the pannels round the skirting board 2ft. high – the doors same light green as 8tagon of ceiling, and the ogee bevils of the 3 tier of door pannels red – 2 tables and 6 chairs – offered to bring canapés for us to sleep on – but we declined them – used to put our mattresses on the floor – ‘tis now 5 10/.. – slumbered and [?] our 1st stage this morning and the 2nd Read Russian grammar and Schnitzler 1. from p. 121 to 145 till 11 ½ - the post courier has been delayed here the last 3 nights if I rightly understood our courier – we to be off at 6 a.m. tomorrow if possible – but cela depend – if more snow falls in the night we shall have enough of it – no Volga –no na Volga – since Sarepta – would rather be here than there – may live less well, but shall be warmer – the single windows there and German stove that got quite cold during the night were starvation – R10 ¾ on my table now at 5 20/.. p.m. Reading Schnitzler and looking at maps till dinner – tea and cotelettes de passion, and Blinnys (the pancakes) over at 8 20/.. – then read article Tchernoï Jar in the Geography dictionary de la Russie – inquired if the fortifications were still kept up – yes! still standing but not much attended to – very few soldiers – shall pass the Kremlin tomorrow morning – to stop a minute en passant – the lesser salt lake 40 versts from here 1 little town 20v. from here en route and a little village close upon the lake – Lac Yelton perhaps 100 from here  - then reading till now 9 55/.. – when at Tzaritzine should have tried to see the site of the ancient Bulgarian city Soumerkente, and on the island formed by the Achtouba on the other side the Volga interesting remains of Saraie city and palace of Batou [Batu] Khan – vid. these 2 articles in the Geography Dictionary of Russia –

Battle of the Calca (Chalka government of Nijegorod?) which delivered Russia into the hands of the Tartars, 1226. vid. Geog. Dict. ii. 263. article Tchernigof and see article Calmouks – la famoux [?]-Khan was grandson of Batou [Batu] Khan had just written so far at 10 35/.. snowy windy cold day – fair towards evening – found my cousin gently come at breakfast lay down at last night at 11 55/.. A- and I-

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 493

John 1:4

DIVINE ORDER 58: Law Of The Tree Of Knowledge 6

Gen 2:16-17 But the LORD told him, "You may eat fruit from any tree in the garden, EXCEPT THE ONE THAT HAS THE POWER TO LET YOU KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN RIGHT AND WRONG. IF YOU EAT ANY FRUIT FROM THAT TREE, YOU WILL DIE BEFORE THE DAY IS OVER!" CEV

ONE LAW 3

The indications of the ONENESS of God’s Divine BOOK OF LAW are quite copiously and elaborately displayed all over scriptures, at least for those who care to LOOK when reading.

This is why it is advisable to read the Word with an open mind rather than to read “the secrets of being successful” or “principles of multiplication”. you will simply get “lost”.

Joh 5:39-40 “You are BUSY ANALYZING THE SCRIPTURES, FRANTICALLY PORING OVER THEM IN HOPES of gaining eternal life. EVERYTHING YOU READ POINTS TO ME, YET YOU STILL REFUSE TO COME TO ME so I can GIVE YOU THE LIFE YOU’RE LOOKING FOR—ETERNAL LIFE! TPT

Everything we read about Patriarchs, the SEED, Branch, Kings, Priests, Prophets and Laws, all Point to Jesus, who is the ONE LAW that ties together all scripture and gives Eternal Life.

Joh 14:6 Jesus said to him, I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life; NO ONE COMES TO THE FATHER BUT BY ME. MKJV

Some of us get distracted when we read some scriptures, thinking the “focus” is isolated.

Jos 1:8 BE SURE THAT THE BOOK OF THE LAW IS ALWAYS READ in your worship. STUDY IT DAY AND NIGHT, and make sure that you obey everything written in it. THEN YOU WILL BE PROSPEROUS AND SUCCESSFUL. GNB

Many Christians read that verse and [mostly] want to equate it with Financial & Material wealth, along with good health and long life to “cap” it all.

In the Spiritual stance however, what do you [really] think God counts Prosperity and [good] Success as?

Psa 119:9 HOW CAN A YOUNG MAN STAY PURE? ONLY BY LIVING IN THE WORD of God and walking in its truth. TPT

Now, is PURITY proportional to Prosperity & Success before God?

Think carefully please.

1Pe 3:3-4 DO NOT LET YOUR ORNAMENTS be THOSE OF THE BODY such as dressing of the hair, or putting on of JEWELS OF GOLD OR FAIR CLOTHING; But LET THEM BE those of the UNSEEN MAN OF THE HEART, THE EVER-SHINING ORNAMENT OF A GENTLE AND QUIET SPIRIT, WHICH IS OF GREAT PRICE IN THE EYES OF GOD. BBE

Now, whom would you have resembled with the image of a Gentle and Quiet spirit please?

Mat 11:29 TAKE MY YOKE ON YOU AND LEARN FROM ME, BECAUSE I AM GENTLE AND HUMBLE IN HEART, and you will find rest for your souls. NET

I have just used some cross reference to show you how scriptures start with Jesus and runs all the way back to Him.

Now, WHO does the cleaning of the young man in Ps 119:9?

Eph 5:26-27 TO MAKE US HOLY AND PURE, cleansing us THROUGH THE SHOWERING OF THE PURE WATER OF THE WORD OF GOD. All that he does in us is designed to make us a mature church for his pleasure, until we become a source of praise to him—GLORIOUS AND RADIANT, BEAUTIFUL AND HOLY, WITHOUT FAULT OR FLAW. TPT

Do you know why worldly riches is too minute on the scale of prosperity in God’s eyes?

Rev 21:21 The 12 gates were 12 pearls. EACH GATE WAS MADE OF ONE PEARL. THE STREET OF THE CITY WAS MADE OF PURE GOLD, as clear as glass. GW

You’ve not seen original Gold till you see those in heaven.

That’s why we’re born with nothing and have no need to go back with anything. There’s much more than enough there.

1Ti 6:6-7 DEVOTION TO GOD IS, IN FACT, A WAY FOR PEOPLE TO BE VERY RICH, BUT ONLY IF IT MAKES THEM SATISFIED WITH WHAT THEY HAVE. When we came into the world, WE BROUGHT NOTHING. AND WHEN WE DIE, WE CAN TAKE NOTHING OUT. ERV

So beloved, JESUS is the “One Stop” LAW of Righteousness and the ticket to heaven.

If any of you has an argument over this, I have no other answer but these same scriptures and many more.

I have no “Mentor” but Jesus; He trained me and these are my lessons.

Act 5:42 And daily in the temple, and in every house, THEY CEASED NOT TO TEACH AND PREACH JESUS CHRIST. KJV

That is why the Good News must always be JESUS CHRIST, the Author and finisher of our Faith. He is the LAW, the Obedience and Fulfillment of it.

May our lives tell His story, IN JESUS NAME.

Come back on Monday, as we proceed in digging into this inspiring Subtopic.

Brother Prince

Friday, April 05, 2024

08055125517; 08023904307

[thehungrykat1]

A Flavorful Journey Awaits at Public Eatery in Robinsons Magnolia

After the success of the well-loved The Grid Food Market at the Powerplant Mall in Rockwell, the Tasteless Food Group has embarked on another flavorful adventure, this time at the bustling Robinsons Magnolia mall in New Manila. Public Eatery brings together a wide variety of creative dishes and flavors from some of the country’s top chefs and restaurateurs to let its diners embark on this wonderful culinary ride.

You can find Public Eatery at the fourth floor of Robinsons Magnolia’s new wing. The Hungry Kat was invited to go aboard this gastronomic excursion to sample the amazing dishes being offered by these stalls and restaurants. The food hall itself is quite large, but you can take a look at the map near the entrance to get acquainted with all the lovely foodie choices you have to satisfy your cravings.

Public Eatery is where the neighborhood meets to gather over good food. Robinsons Magnolia's resident food hall is ready to take guests on various culinary adventures. It had been a while since I last visited this mall, so I had to find my way around the new wing to get to the fourth floor which is almost fully occupied by Public Eatery. The place is designed like a modern train station, with food stalls scattered along the hallways and dining areas.

You can choose to sit near the restaurants or by the huge glass windows overlooking the gardens below. The food hall is really spacious and can probably accommodate more than 200 diners at a time. There are currently over 16 food stalls and counting, with notable names such as Scout’s Honor and Bored & Hungry opening soon. This is not just your typical food hall because Public Eatery offers a much more elevated dining experience.

We were privileged to be one of the media partners to be given a special “train ticket” that lets us hop on and explore all of the restaurants inside Public Eatery. With all these options on our table, it took us several yummy visits to complete our flavorful journey and I’m here to let you in on the ride.

Let’s start with some of the featured beverages at the Public Eatery. FRNK is a Japanese Milk Bar that offers a variety of healthy artisanal milk drinks and plant-based options to choose from.

We got the Grape Sea Salt Milk (P165) which comes with a combination of fresh grapes, homemade sea salt milk caps, and basil drops. We paired this with their plant-based Nut Butter Brownies (P140) with dark chocolate and peanut butter for a tasty snack.

If you like coconuts, then you should go for the fresh, healthy and sustainable coconut drinks from Boo Koh. Our local coconut is the star in all their refreshing drinks that combine different flavors and sinkers that you can mix and match. We tried the Ube Coconut Milk (P205) with boba tapioca pearls and nata de coco. Other unique bookoh variants include the Coconut Pandan Gula Melaka Juice, Iced Coconut Vietnamese Coffee, Coconut Aloe Tea, and Coconut Lychee Passionfruit Juice.

Coffee lovers will definitely enjoy the offerings at Morse Coffee which is by the Making it Happen travel vlogger Mike Holaschke. The Flat White Tiramisu (P230) comes with a pair of lady fingers which is a great option any time of the day.

The Bev Bar offers a wide selection of refreshments including coffee, shakes, coolers, juices, yohgurt and even cocktails. Chef Patrick Go is an expert is creating drinks that go perfectly with different kinds of dishes so you will surely find one that suits your tastes. Some of the drinks we tried include The Bev Bar Scramble (P160), their take on the classic childhood beverage we loved to drink, while the Milo Crunch Dinosaur (P120) combines chocolate cereals with the Milo dinosaur drink. They also have healthy fruit teas like the Summer Peach (P115).

Now let’s try some of their appetizers! There’s so much space to explore at the Public Eatery so you will really get thirsty and hungry after walking around the food hall.

You can get freshly shucked Aklan oysters that can be cooked in a variety of ways at the Seafood Oyster Bar. We had the oysters baked in Miso Custard (P360 per 6 pcs.) and it was really fresh and delicious.

Dive into the healthy and vibrant flavors of Hawaii with these poke bowls from Ono Poke. Every bowl is an exploration of coasts and culture with the freshest ingredients and authentic sauces. I ordered the Spicy Tuna Crunch Bowl (P420) which comes with a colorful combination of aburi tuna, tempura flakes, nori, cabbage, green onion, cucumber, furikake, and spicy mayo.

Konbini Karaage is a Japanese-inspired snack bar offering juicy and mouthwatering chicken karaage for those on the go. Each order of Karaage (P189) comes with your choice of powder and sauces which include curry dip, hickory bbq dip. cheese dip. yuzu salt, cheese powder, shichimi togarashi, and others.

Samyan is where you can get your favorite Thai dishes and flavors. Their Crab Pad Thai (P720) is one of the best pad thai versions you can find in the city. This typical Thai street food comes with generous servings of crab meat on top of stir-fried rice noodles mixed with peanuts, scrambled egg, and bean sprouts.

The popular Bad Bird and its umami fried chicken also makes an appearance with its own version of the Fish & Chips (P450). This comes with a huge piece of deep-fried battered fish with fries and tartar sauce on the side.

Don’t forget to visit the stalls on this side which offers main courses that can satisfy even the hungriest of diners.

10 by Tsuke-Men has the Tonkotsu Premium Ramen (P440) which is a rich and hearty bowl of ramen. This has a savory pork chashu and tamago on top of its rich and flavorful pork bone broth.

On the other hand, Anyhow offers its international line-up of ihaw-ihaw where guests can make their own grilled sets. The first step is to choose your meat from pork belly, chicken, bangus, or salmon. Of course, I chose the US Beef Belly (P490) for my meat. I then had it grilled using American Hickory BBQ and served with Garlic Adobo Rice and Mushroom Sisig.

New York Cubao offers an interesting array of Filipino fusion dishes from celebrity chef Myke Sarthou. Chef Tatung, as he is fondly called, upgrades the typical Pinoy breakfast and lunch specialties into its Americanized versions. The Ribs Don’t Lie (P595) are tocino-style pork ribs served with garlic rice, two sunny-side up eggs, and atsara. It’s a peculiar mix of flavors and this is probably the first time we had encountered ribs cooked this way. You have to try it to really experience it.

More of our favorites are just around the corner. Thomson Road is a Singaporean-inspired restaurant from Alabang that offers claypot rice, jumbo shrimp siomai, hearty baos, and laksa.

My husband loves to eat claypot rice so he ordered the Butcher’s Claypot Rice (P380). This one has a sizzling combination of pork belly, chicken, and Chinese chorizo cooked in a rice casserole in seasoned claypot with signature rice crust.

My mother-in-law also joined us on the ride at Public Eatery one day. She wanted to try some of the featured Middle Eastern dishes at OK, Bob where you can enjoy your meals in a different way, especially with their hanging kebab dishes.

The Hanging Truffled Chicken Shish (P550) has tender chicken breast marinated in curry spiced yoghurt and served with Sumac salad, grilled tomato, green chili, and truffle sauce. It’s definitely a unique way of presenting this dish and this is always a popular choice among diners.

As for me, my favorite stall at The Grid Food Market and now here at Public Eatery is still LèChon by Chef Happy Ongpauco-Tiu. I really love their lechon specialties including porchetta, beef, chicken, tuna belly and even sisig so this is the first stall I visited when I arrived.

Chef Happy was present during the media launch of Public Eatery and everyone was excited to try their lechon dishes. The first step is to choose your lechon so I got the Lechon Angus Beef Belly (P525). I had it prepared with Tanglad Butter and served with Grilled Talong and baba ganoush plus Lèchon’s original butter rice. Lastly, I added adobo white sauce as my dip.

We then ended our journey with some artisanal ice cream from Merry Moo. We chose the Salted Caramel ice cream but they have other interesting flavors such as cheesy mamon, auro dark chocolate, Hizon’s mocha cake, and more. Public Eatery is an exciting new food concept that will really elevate the Quezon City and New Manila dining experience. You will never run out of excellent choices whenever you come here. See you again soon at Public Eatery in Robinsons Magnolia!

Public Eatery

4/F Robinsons Magnolia New Wing, Aurora Boulevard, New Manila, Quezon City

(0976) 281-0277

thepubliceatery.com

www.facebook.com/publiceateryph

Instagram: @publiceatery

[starlitangels]

Meeting the King

Thanks to @darlincollins awesome post for this! I wrote this at work in all caps because of the way I usually type at work. So... I had to retype 3.2k words instead of just copying and pasting. *heavy sigh* the things I do for my art lol

—

“William wants to meet you,” Sam said as he snapped his phone shut. I stared, face impassive, screaming internally. Unblinking.

“Why?” I asked. “What did I do?”

Sam chuckled. “You didn’t do anythin’ wrong, darlin’. He just wants to meet you.”

“Why?” I repeated.

“Because you’re my partner. And William is the kind of king who wants to know the people who are important to the members of his clan.”

“Because he wants to know what kind of liability I am?” I hoped I didn’t sound too defensive or scared. Even though Sam could and would see right through the neutrality I was trying to maintain in my voice.

“No. Because I’m in love with you, and he wants to put a face to the name.”

William Solaire was the most prominent vampire king in the region. Old Blood. Five hundred years old. A few of the  “friends” I’d run with in the bad crowd that I’d met Quinn in used to call him a spider. A man at the center of a huge, intricate web of connections with so many favors owed to him that he could pull on a single string and the whole city would crumble.

And he wanted to... meet me.

This wasn’t optional. There was no choice here. If William Solaire wanted to meet me, he would meet me. Even if it meant him showing up in my apartment in the middle of the night.

And I’d rather not meet my mate’s king in my pajamas.

I finally blinked. “Okay,” I said.

Sam grinned. “When works for you?”

“Uh...” I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and brought up the security company schedule. David had... encouraged me to start working for the company again, and I’d reluctantly agreed. After the Inversion, half of the pack members my age had been too traumatized to easily make their way back into security work, so I’d begrudgingly started filling in. “I’m not doing anything in the evening on Thursday.” Truth of the matter was I wasn’t doing anything in the evening all week—but I needed some time to steel myself for this little... visit.

Sam nodded. “I’ll let him know,” he said.

I cleared my throat and nodded.

“Hey,” Sam entreated softly, setting a hand on my arm. “There’s nothin’ to worry about.”

“Mmhmm,” I said. “I know.”

—

“You must be Samuel’s partner,” a soft-spoken, French-accented voice said as I opened and closed the door to the office. I blinked to adjust to the light. The hallway of the office building was dim, but William’s office was bright.

The dark wood desk was the size of a twin-sized bed, with an expensive computer on one side. A large office chair sat behind it, in which sat the king. Behind him, a pair of massive bookshelves stood sentry on either side of the large window with its shade drawn. He had a corner office—the other window on the wall to my left sat with its shade open to let the glitter of Dahlia at night in through the glass. The bookshelves were packed to the brim with everything from large leather-bound volumes to... small, cheap, mass-market, paperback harlequin romance books.

I cleared my throat and directed my attention back to the vampire in his office chair. “I am,” I said.

“William Solaire.”

I gave him my name in return. I could have given him “Tank” but he felt like a more formal man and I doubted a nickname would satisfy as a moniker.

“He’s told me so much about you,” William remarked, getting up from his desk. His silver eyes were warm—like Sam’s—and there was kindness in the lines of his face. He looked like he was probably around forty, but the timelessness of his eyes betrayed the centuries behind him. He held out a hand for me to shake. I reached forward and shook it, putting on the old Big Bad Wolf façade to hide my hesitation.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said sarcastically. “Let me guess: I’m the cagey shifter who trespassed and unintentionally put your clan in the crosshairs of a rogue vampire.”

William chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. “No. He told me that you are the love of his life.”

My ears and neck burned, the heat trying to crawl its way toward my face. Well, that wasn’t embarrassing at all. “Oh,” was all I said.

He gestured to one of the cushy leather chairs across from his desk. “Would you like to take a seat?” he offered. I glanced at the chairs.

“Uh... sure.” I sat. Perching awkwardly on the edge of one of the chairs. I expected William to go back around to the other side of his desk to sit in the throne-like office chair, but he didn’t. Just sat in the other one beside mine.

“May I offer you something to drink?”

My first instinct was to make a joke about not finding blood particularly palatable, but I managed to bite back the comment.

“Um...” I picked at one of my nails. “Water is fine.” He smiled and reached around the side of his desk to what I realized was a mini-fridge built into the wood. He extracted a bottle of water and passed it to me. I accepted it with a quiet, “Thanks.”

“I imagine you’re a bit apprehensive,” he remarked.

A bit was an understatement, but like hell was I gonna let that on. “That’s one way to put it,” I said evasively. “I’ve never had occasion to meet a vampire king before.”

“Well, it is fortunate, then, that you and I have this opportunity to become acquainted.”

Sure, if you say so, I thought. “S’pose so,” I agreed.

He chuckled. I wondered what he found amusing. Probably the fact that I was, in fact, cagey. It was instinct. It was habit. And it had usually served me fairly well.

“Samuel speaks highly of you,” William commented.

“I’m... honored.”

He smiled again. The points of his fangs glinted just softly in the lights. “You do not believe you are deserving of praise?”

My hold on my manners slipped and I snorted, rolling my eyes. “It’s never been offered with ease before,” I said. “The only praise I receive is for how I fight. Everything else...” I shrugged.

“Are you aware that I’m acquainted with your alpha?”

“Vaguely aware,” I replied. “David has a lot of respect for you.”

“And I for him,” William said with a nod. “For a man to be made an alpha so young, he has done great things.”

If William thought I was bad at accepting compliments, I couldn’t wait to see David’s face when I told him what William said about him. He would never admit to being flustered—the man was too “dignified” for that—but I knew him. He would be very much flustered. And that mate of his would call him out on it.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m glad to be a member of his pack. He’s always shown me more patience than I deserve.” I swallowed. “David is like a brother to me.”

William nodded. “I understand the sentiment.”

“If I may—uh, sir—why did you want to meet with me? I’ll admit, I’m struggling to imagine that this is purely a social visit.”

He tilted his head to one side. “Ah. I was informed you tend to be blunt,” he remarked. “Very well.”

Here we go, I thought. Time for the other shoe to drop. Time for him to tell me to stay away from Sam. That I was putting Sam, William, and the entire Solaire clan in danger. Time for him to threaten me off. Time for him to ignore any protest I might make about Sam being the mate I’d chosen.

I was tough. I was strong. But I wasn’t strong enough to survive a fight with an Old Blood. Especially one who had managed to say alive for over five hundred years. No one survived that long by being polite and passive all the time. Not in a world like this.

He smiled. “I wanted to get to know you.”

“Uh... what?”

“You mean a great deal to Samuel. And Samuel means a great deal to this clan. As well as me, personally. He is a good man. The person he’s chosen to give his heart to must be someone special.”

I managed to cut off my scoff, but William raised a brow, acknowledging he heard it. “I don’t think ‘special’ is the word I’d use.”

“Then what is?”

“I’m not sure I can choose one that’s appropriate for polite company. What has Sam told you about me?”

“That you have a good heart. That you can be a bit stubborn, but you protect those you care about fiercely. He’s mentioned that you are intelligent and strategic, and a capable combatant.” His eyes drifted to my “Big Nasty”—as the kids in the pack called it—a two-inch, deep scar on my left forearm. Quinn’s claw-like fingernails flashing in the darkness... I shut the memory down before it could bubble up any more.

“But he told you the story of how and why we met, right?”

“Of course.” He nodded.

I cleared my throat. “And that... doesn’t... bother you?”

He was quiet for a few moments, regarding me with a thoughtful gaze. “What about it should bother me?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. The fact that I trespassed on your territory? Putting your clan in potential danger by mere association with me? The fact that I am... the type of person who makes a lot of mistakes and clearly Sam deserves better?”

He raised a brow again. “You think Samuel deserves better?”

“I-I-I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have him in my life. I love him. I...” Here we go, I thought. “I... I chose him. To be my mate. I don’t want to live the rest of my life without him. But... I dunno. A man as good as him doesn’t deserve a mess like me.”

William folded his arms as I cracked the lid of the water bottle and took a drink. “Ah,” he said, nodding in understanding. “Would you like my opinion?”

“Uh...”

“Samuel is a man who feels life deeply. He is intelligent, and his heart is full. He is also a man who knows what he wants—even if he doesn’t admit it to himself all the time. If he chose you in return, as he has, you can rest assured that he wants you with his whole heart.” William tucked a loose lock of hair behind his ear. It was dark brown, somewhat curled, and fell just past his shoulders.

My ears and neck started to burn again. I looked away from him, instead focusing my gaze on the bookshelves. There were a lot of titles in languages I didn’t recognize. But I knew more than a few. Moby Dick, The Hunger Games, an obviously well-loved copy of Pride & Prejudice.

In the corner of my eye, I saw him turn to follow my line of sight. “Do you like reading?” he asked.

“I used to,” I answered. “It’s been years since I’ve... had time to just sit down with a book.”

He got up from his seat and crossed to one of the shelves. “What did you used to like to read?”

I shrugged. “Don’t tell my pack, but, uh, really anything I could get my hands on. I had a hard time reading classical literature, but I still liked the stories.”

William nodded, turning slightly to examine the titles. He wiggled his fingers as he moved them down one shelf and extracted a book. “I believe you’d enjoy this one,” he observed, passing me the leather-bound book. Much Ado About Nothing. Shakespeare. “An amusing tale. Shakespeare knew how to make an audience laugh. Would you care to borrow it?”

I leaned away from where he was holding it out to me. “I shouldn’t,” I said. “I don’t think you should trust me with something like that. It looks really old and—”

“If you’d like to read it, you are more than welcome to borrow it.”

Oh man. The thought of just taking some time for myself to relax and read—maybe sitting on the couch at Sam’s place, leaning on him or with my feet up on his lap—it sounded really nice. Just some quiet peace between me and the man I’d chosen to love for the rest of my life.

“A... are you sure?” I asked hesitantly.

“Of course.”

Cautiously, I took the book into my hands and set it on my lap. “Thank you,” I said.

He smiled and sat back down. “My pleasure. Now. Tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable sharing.”

Well that narrowed it down.

I took a deep breath through my nose. “Well... I moved to Dahlia when I was a teenager. My family joined Gabe’s pack pretty soon after we got here. Uh... the pack calls me ‘Tank’ because I’m one of the toughest ones. I wear black a lot but my favorite color is actually green...” I cut myself off as William—flinched? “Sir?”

“I beg your pardon,” he said. Quickly, he got to his feet and circled his desk. I felt tension start to coil in my muscles. What had I said?

He rifled around in his desk drawer for a moment.

“Is everything alright?”

“Of course. You mentioned green and I had a sudden thought. There’s something I’d like to give to you.”

“Sir, I don’t—”

“This is something you will want to keep, I promise.” With that, he seemed to finally find what he was looking for. He straightened up. There was a file folder in his hand, filled with pages. He opened it and began leafing through them.

He extracted a page from the folder—though I couldn’t see what it was—and put the folder back in the drawer. He came back around and sat opposite me.

“Understand that when a human is turned into a vampire, the Department takes it very seriously,” he said, looking me in the eye and holding my gaze. It took a lot of effort for me not to break the sustained eye contact. Looking directly into a vampire’s eyes—even ones as warm as William’s—was daunting.

I nodded. “Right. Sam mentioned that after Frederick got turned.”

William ducked his head in acknowledgment. “Yes. And when they are turned by a member of my clan, the Department gives me their information.” He cleared his throat. “That is to say, they give me the information they had on the human, so that I might better guide the vampire.” He held the paper out for me, angled so that I still couldn’t see what was on it. “This was in Samuel’s file when Alexis turned him. I want you to have it.”

I took the page and looked down.

It was a full-size photo from an EIC—an Empowered Identification Card.

It was Sam.

Sam as a human.

EICs didn’t allow a full-toothed smile, but Sam had a close-lipped grin. He looked the same as he did now—maybe a few years younger, it was hard to tell—apart from...

Apart from the eyes.

His eyes...

They were green.

Deep forest green. Warm. Like the shade cast in the woods by leaves on a late summer afternoon.

My heart skipped a beat in my chest. I’d never even thought to ask...

I looked up. “Thank you,” I said.

William smiled. “Of course.” He set his hands on his knees. “Now. Tell me more about yourself, if you would.”

I cleared my throat. “Okay,” I muttered. “Well...”

We spoke for another half-hour. William was kind, and never pried for more detail than I was willing to give. Which was unusual for me.

Finally, he jolted when the small clock on his desk chimed. “Oh my. It’s ten o’clock. My sincerest apologies. I didn’t mean to keep you so late. Allow me to escort you outside. I assume you drove here?”

“Motorcycle, but yeah.”

He smirked. “Has Samuel ridden it with you?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Convince him, sometime. I think you both would enjoy it. He likes adventures more than he lets on.”

I smiled. “That I can do.”

He walked me out of his office and down to the lobby of the office building.

“Before you go,” he said, slipping a hand into the inside pocket of his sport coat, “take this as well.” He pulled out a business card. “That is my personal cell phone number, and the one beneath it is my office’s direct line. Should you ever need anything, do not hesitate to reach out.”

“Mr. Solaire, I really couldn’t—”

“I insist. You are Samuel’s partner. That makes you part of my clan as well. If on an honorary basis. You are family to him—you are family to me. To all of us.”

I took the business card and tucked it into the pages of Much Ado About Nothing like a bookmark. “Well... thank you.”

“Of course.” He grinned.

I put the book and the picture of Sam in my backpack—careful to make sure neither of them would get damaged on the ride home—and held a hand out. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Solaire.”

“Please, call me Will or William,” he replied, taking my hand and shaking it firmly. “It was nice to finally meet you too.”

“Goodnight.”

“A good night to you as well.”

With that, I let go and marched out into the parking lot. I slung my backpack onto my back and unclipped my helmet from where it was hanging off the bag strap. William was still standing at the door to the building as I put the helmet on and slung my leg over the bike. I gunned the engine and waved to him before bending forward and leaving the parking lot.

I saw him wave back at me before disappearing back into the building.

When I got home, I pulled my phone out.

Compose New Message To: Sam Collins Just got home. William is nice Sent

After a moment. I heard a familiar chime from deeper in my apartment.

I started laughing as Sam emerged from the kitchen, looking mildly exasperated. “Were you lurking to try and scare me, cowboy?” I teased. “It takes more than just hiding in the shadows.”

“No, I was not plannin’ on scarin’ you, darlin’,” he retorted, holding out his arms. I crossed to them immediately and wrapped my own around him. When I looked up to meet his eyes,, I could almost see the green they’d once been. “I was plannin’ on havin’ some food ready for you when you got back.

I smiled. “Always taking care of me,” I said, leaning in. He met my kiss easily. Warm. Soft. Safe.

I sighed contentedly. And pulled back just enough to look him in the eye.

“I love you, Sam.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

I poked him lightly in the chest. “How come you never mentioned your eyes used to be green?”

“Y’know, for bein’ a five-hundred-year-old vampire king, William can be such a little sh—”

[marvelmaniac2000]

The Break In (Batman x reader) SMUT Part III

Summary: Bruce revealed his face after sucking his fingers clean of your juices. Since then you have been constantly looking over your shoulder pandering when the next time he will appear. But this time as Bruce Wayne?…or Batman?…

Subject: Mini smut, sexual intercourse, MATURE CONTENT +18, soft sex kinda thing?

Play talk, dominance,

Characters: Bruce Wayne x Reader (Catwoman), Falcone

Words: 1.2k

Notes: It’s time to soften the scene… a little lol…

Part 1

Part 2

MISSPELLING/GRAMMAR APOLOGIES

“Why haven’t you set up the bar meeting that’s planned for tonight?” Falcone gleamed at you under his sunglasses. “There’s a lot of deals that need to be made and I can’t afford a bad environment to persuade them.” You pick up the empty glasses off of his brown wooden desk. Even though you had hatred for him and tried to cover your emotions, you still felt the control he held over you. Between Falcone and Bruce Wayne you now knew of, there was too much stress that boiled your mind. Nothing scared you about these men however, Gotham has their ways of tearing you down regardless if you tried to be righteous or not.

“ I have no excuses, I promise everything will be perfect by then” You gave him a fakest smile before turning around out of his office. “It better be or else this will be coming out of your tips tonight doll!” And just like usual the threats never stop.

The night club was booming with life and Falcone was satisfied with the party set up for tonight. Everything was going as planned for tonight, nothing out of the ordinary. You were eager just to go back home to figure out who exactly was Bruce Wayne. You knew of him, but what exactly propelled him to become Batman? I guess the same reason why you too, roam the city in a ridiculous cat costume. He was a hurt soul searching for meaning in a life that was taken from him. You wanted to shout from the rooftops to tell everyone that it was yet so obvious that it was him all along, but what good would that do? If anything it just hurt him even more, and destroyed whatever “good” there was left in this god forsaken city. You huffed to yourself and looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Since when did you start caring about rich people?” You whispered to yourself.

“You shouldn’t just judge people by their wealth” a voice woken from behind you. Bruce leaned up against the wall with a black baseball cap on and with all dark clothes. “And you should stop scaring people,” you snapped back. He lifted his chin to get a good look at you. He carefully chooses his words next.

“I’m glad you haven’t told anyone yet which I suspected you wouldn’t, because I know your own secrets.” You opened your mouth to speak but he raised his hand. “But they are safe with me, because the difference between me and you is I know when things are more complicated than they are. Nothing is ever black and white.”

He locked the bathroom door and approached you with his darkened colored eyes. The bags under his eyes were deep but seeing the real “Batman” was still surreal to you. You almost wanted to faint because of everything that has happened this past week but you had to keep your composure. “I mean my secrets are the same as yours but the only difference is I don’t have money like you to stop me from seeking into a bigger hole” you rubbed your forehead and placed your hands on each side of his arms. You hated that you grew to love him because this only made things even more complicated for both of us. Bruce leaned his head against yours. He seemed less tense when he was not wearing his suit. His body language was more open toward affection in public.

“This has to stop.” you looked into his eyes trying to convey desperation. You couldn’t keep whatever this was with him any longer. One minute you lusted over him, but the next instance you wanted to hide from the damage he may cause in your own life (if anyone finds out you were involved with him).

Bruce wanted nothing more but to hold you and fix whatever was happening in your life. He knew exactly what your motives were in this awful place, but he knew you were right for once. All he wanted was to see your face one last time. He couldn’t stay away from the feeling he felt every time he was near you. If this was the only way he could see you, he was willing to take that chance, as long as he had the upper hand in Gotham city.

Bruce leaned his mouth against your ear, and nuzzled your sweet scent. His hot breath blew against your neck feeling every nerve of your body spark. “I can’t stay away from you” he kissed the lining of your jaw and brushed his lips against your soft skin. “I know how stupid this situation is but I kept help thinking about how much I miss being inside you.” He raised his inner thumb to caress your bottom lip again.

“Don’t you miss the way I make you moan?” You closed your eyes feeling his hand travel down your coattail dress. His warm hand rubbed your inner thigh hoping to pump your flower of wetness again. Strands of Bruce’s hair tangled between your fingers as he traveled his butterfly kisses down your neck.

He pushed you up against the bathroom’s counter and wasted no time pushing your dress up. You spread your legs slightly so he could remove your panties. “I hope you haven’t been sharing this sweetness with anyone else '' Bruce pulled your legs a little closer toward him. You grazed your long nails over his chiseled jaw. “I promise I don’t share this kitty with anyone else '' you tongue him before grazing your teeth over his bottom lip. Bruce gave out a husky moan. You knew he loved the slight roughness that would send him overboard. He removed his hat to the side and unbuckled his belt to expose his hard dick. Your pussy throbbed and ached seeing his size again.

Bruce spread your legs apart and slowly pushed the pre cum tip inside your wet entrance. You moan feeling the grazing of your walls fit perfectly around his dick.

Bruce stared straight into your eyes and smirked at your begging expression.

“Are you sure you want to stop doing this?” He slowly pulled out and waited for your response. You whimper in irritation knowing he was being a complete tease. “Just one last time” You grab his shoulder and pull him closer begging him to enter you again. Bruce slowly enter his dick back in and tortured you with slow deep meaningful strokes. You try to quiet down your moans but you couldn’t help how much pleasure you felt him hitting your g spot.

A thumping noise from the bathroom door disrupted you both. You naturally snapped your head toward the door in panic. Bruce grabbed your chin and directed your eyes back to him. “Focus on me kitten, let them hear you moan” he pushed your legs further up to deepen his stroke. You cry out in pleasure looking into the deep dark eyes of Bruce Wayne.