#RAGING ON A THURSDAY MORNING AND WHY

[notwithstandingclause]

sorry for work posting again but if I have to format one more table in a word document I'm taking a magnet to my hard drive fr

#microsoft word #why did they make it This way tho??? #actual vent post #I'm feeling indescribable amounts of rage on a thursday morning

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Eddie always notices the cheerleaders, he never notices you, so in an attempt to move on you go to Steve's party and one thing leads to another with him.

Perhaps it's the knock on the head Eddie needs to realise how he really feels?

Mdni, 18+, Fluff and angst, unrequited feelings or are they? Jealousy.

Eddie Munson X Reader.

Brief Steve Harrington x Reader.

💌🫶

Eddie was always flirting with the cheerleaders, it didn't matter if they never flirted back, or they only flirted back to piss off their boyfriends, obviously they were Eddie's type despite his intense hate of the dark side.

You watched Eddie moon over the impossibly pretty girls and sag. He would never notice you, you were just his friend, one of the members of Hellfire.

"Why do you flirt with them all the time Eddie, aren't they part of the dark side of whatever?", you ask him and the rest of Hellfire quieten, it wasn't often that someone challenged Eddie, if at all.

"Sweetheart, I like to extend my superior flirting techniques to all the ladies" he answers back with a teasing smile. All the ladies except you of course.

"Dude, you have no technique, unless technique counts at you making a total goofball ass of yourself" Gareth points out but quietens at Eddie's glare.

"Princess is a girl and you don't flirt with her" Mike adds and Eddie rolls his eyes at him.

"Because she's like one of the guys Wheeler" you still as you process Eddie's comment. One of the guys, that's all he saw you as.

"But I'm not Eddie, just say the truth that you don't feel like that for me and be done with it" you don't mean to be so snappy but Eddie's comment has hurt you.

"I just said that" he says impatiently and it sends a knife to your heart. It's the confirmation you need that he's never going to see you in the same way you see him.

...

Thursday is party night at Steve's, it's the first he's held in a while and what started as just a small intimate gathering has snowballed into tons of students finding their way to his.

He notices you at exactly the same time you notice him, you're new to the party scene. It was a spur of the moment to come here, fuelled by Eddie's comment and the need to move on.

Or to just get completely drunk and forget your heartbreak for a night.

"Hey, haven't seen you at many parties" he hands you another beer and you shrug.

"Just wanted a change, shouldn't you be mingling with the guests?" He makes a face and sits beside you, clinks his beer with yours.

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting this many people. It's not really for me anymore" you look at Steve, really look at him and realise how much he has changed from the Steve you've known for years.

The crowd cheers at someone using the beer keg, the guy is upside down and laughs with his friends as he finishes. The noise is beginning to give you a headache, Steve notices your expression and gestures to the door.

"You wanna get out of here?" He suggests and you nod. Absolutely.

...

For a while you and Steve talk, ignore the noise downstairs and you find yourself relaxing in his company.

"So Munson huh?" he asks gently and you wonder how he knows. Maybe it's the way your face lights up just at the mention of Eddie. Body flushing in embarrassment you nod and sigh.

"He doesn't even notice me" Steve scowls and gently places his hand on your shoulder, squeezes it tenderly.

"Unrequited love. I know all about that. Munson's an idiot" you peer up at Steve and his gaze lingers on your lips, desire floods through you and before you know it you and Steve are kissing.

Hesitant you break away, Steve gently strokes your cheek. "Do you want to do this? It doesn't have to be anything more than two friends seeking comfort honey?" you let that sink in for a few seconds then make your decision.

You lean forward and kiss Steve again.

As the party rages on you and Steve lose yourself in one another.

...

Bright sunshine wakes you in the morning and you groan, Steve is soundly asleep beside you and all the memories flood back.

Fuck. You slept with Steve. Steve groans as you rush out of bed and his hand gently tugs at your arm. "Hey, slow down honey" he mumbles sleepily.

Flustered you sit back down and he takes your hand, "You okay? Was last night okay?" you nod feeling a little bit shy.

"It was nice, really nice" he squeezes your hand and kisses your cheek and even though you're smiling there's a mix of emotions inside you.

You always thought your first time would be with Eddie, it was silly but that's what you thought. You know this was a one time thing but it would be nice if you got to know Steve more, he was a really great guy, nicer than you ever thought.

"I can drive you to school if you want? I need to pick up Robin anyway" you agree to this and quickly get dressed, following Steve out the door.

🫶💌

Movies sure did exaggerate first times. It was lovely but you didn't feel any different or look any different. As normal you head into school and make your way to your locker.

Whispers follow you, you begin to feel paranoid that it's about you and Steve, but the party was really busy last night so who would have seen you and Steve together?

Listening closely to the mutterings around you, you cringe when you hear your name and Steve's. Well shit. The cat was out of the bag.

You slept with Steve and somehow that fact has made it around Hawkins High gossip chain quicker than you could blink. Steve was out of high school so he didn't tell anyone, except maybe Robin but she hardly participated in school gossip. So someone must have seen you going up Steve's room at the party.

Fuck. You avoid the gazes of the rest of your classmates and just about make it to lunchtime to the safety of the Hellfire table. Rarely did any of them pay attention to any gossip, so you assumed you were safe here.

You were so very wrong. From the way that Jeff was staring at you, it was obvious he had heard what happened. Could anything just stay a secret without it making rounds? The perks of living in a small town, you grumble. Everyone knew everyone's business.

Determined you hold your head up high, you don't have anything to be ashamed of. If someone tried to do that then they were an asshole, you weren't going to pay any attention to them.

Eddie barely notices any of the stares heading the way of the Hellfire table, he's off on one of his rants and hyped up.

He winds up Jason as per the usual but Jason only smirks and his gaze rests on you. Bingo on who saw you going up to Steve's room then. You're tempted to flip him the bird but refrain from doing so. It was better to ignore the idiot.

"Hey Munson, I didn't think any of you Hellfire freaks had it in you but she's showing you all up" he points to you and you glare at him. Asshole.

Confused Eddie turns to you and Jason continues his tirade. "So how was it huh? Screwing king Steve?"

There's immediate silence in the cafeteria and you feel embarrassment flood through your body at the attention and the fact that Jason has said it publicly.

"Better than the poor girl who has to ride your tiny limp dick Carver" you reply sweetly and watch as his face goes red with rage.

"Could hear you from the other room couldn't we Chrissy? Oh Steve" he exaggerates moaning and crude gestures. Eddie has gone strangely quiet and he catches your eye.

"You slept with Harrington?" his face is blank and you don't know what to say, his reaction is strange and before you can reply the bell rings, leaving the conversation unfinished.

💌💞

You're faced with comments and giggles all through the rest of class, you put on a brave face but Eddie notices you discreetly wipe your face with the back of your hand at your locker.

All Eddie feels is rage. Steve must have let Carver know all the details of your night with him. There are other emotions churning in his body but he can't look at them too closely because they will change everything.

So he focuses on the rage and decides to go and see Steve.

...

Steve didn't expect a visit from Eddie Munson, he's stacking shelves with Robin and help from Dustin who's practically mooning over his new friend.

Then the guy walks in, his brown eyes flashing with anger and makes a beeline straight for Steve who can barely react when Eddie's fist hits his face.

The videos scatter and Dustin exclaims in shock as Robin rushes to help him. Steve clutches his nose and glares at Munson. "Dude, what the fuck?"

"Cut the shit Harrington. Did you tell Carver all about your night with yn? Spread all the details so people would hound her all fucking day?" Steve gapes and realises that Eddie has gotten the wrong idea.

"What? no way dude. That night was between us" he watches Eddie's anger deflate slightly. Grudgingly he helps Steve up but is still glaring daggers at him, gingerly Steve massages his nose and winces.

"Jeez Munson, that was a mean hit. Are you jealous or something?" Eddie's eyes widen and he scoffs.

"Jealous? I'm not jealous" Robin scrutinises Eddie and nods as does Dustin. He was totally jealous, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"Well you're acting like it dude, she's not your girlfriend so why do you care who she sleeps with" Eddie seems lost for words and opens and closes his mouth several times.

"Dude, did you just realise now after you told her that she wasn't your type" Dustin rolls his eyes at him and Eddie looks sheepish. Robin gapes at him and whacks him on the shoulder.

"Oh my god, you're an even bigger dingus than Steve" she exclaims, Eddie winces and rubs his shoulder.

"I know I'm an idiot. I fucked up, I realised once I heard about you and her and that I've been hiding how I feel for months. So yeah you're right Buckley, I'm a dingus"

Dustin looks between Eddie and Steve, catches Robin's eyes and rolls his eyes. "So why don't you just get on with it and tell her?" He asks exasperated.

Eddie bites his lip, he knows he has to tell you but what if he's too late? He voices his concerns and Robin smiles. "You never know until you say something"

He nods still nervous but determined, and he also still has the urge to kick Steve but he puts that down to the jealousy still pulsing in his veins. He had to do this, had to be Eddie the Brave and win his princess.

...

Eddie's at your door with wildflowers he plucked from the forest, he hands them to you and you smile, feeling better already.

"What a shit day" you sag and he pulls you into a hug, you're exhausted with the wave of emotions that has been plauging you all day. Then you remember Steve's call and peer at Eddie.

"Steve told me you hit him" Eddie's cheeks turn pink and he ducks his head to avoid your gaze.

"I thought Steve managed to spread around about your night together and I kinda lost it, you were so upset and it pissed me off... I was totally jealous as well" he says this in a quieter tone and you're sure you've misheard him.

"You were jealous of me and Steve?" he nods and you're puzzled by this because he said he didn't see you that way. Noticing your confusion Eddie gives you one of his sweet dimpled smiles.

"Yeah, I'm a dumbass or a dingus as Robin said" you snort feeling exasperated. After all this heartache it turns out that he does have feelings for you after all.

"You couldn't have figured this out earlier?" his cheeks warm at your response.

"I know, I have now and I'm hoping I'm not extremely late and that maybe you feel the same way sweetheart?" you tug him to you, hooking your fingers through the waistband of his jeans and kissing him then breaking away secretly thrilled when he looks dazed.

He captures your lips with his again and you can't help but smile.

"You're a dingus Eddie Munson" he gives you the sweetest, goofiest grin and tugs you close to him.

'I know Princess, but I'm your dingus"

💞🫶

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x best friend reader

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

pairing(s) — (soft)dark!QUINN HUGHES x gray!reader word count — 4k

note — i am so sorry for this (not really)

recommended viewing — sorority row (2009)

bingo squares and additional content warnings under the cut.

bingo squares —orgasm control, non-consensual voyeurism (+ pictures taken) and implied past mutual masturbation (dubcon — you’ll see) additional content warnings — dom!reader + subby-as-hell!quinn (ngl he’s kind of a pathetic loser here, but that’s why we love him), m!receiving oral (perhaps too much idk you tell me) + cum play x2, quinn rendered dumb and speechless by his raging humiliation kink and his need for degradation (and an itty bitty bit of praise — quinn: new kink unlocked), i have been plagued w ball play as of late so im subjecting yall to it, mention of edging and orgasm denial, oh and just some pheromone kink bits and a cute lil oral fixation moment or two, nothing to see here!

QUINN HUGHES WAS ENAMORED the moment he saw you.

Three rows from the front. Laptop cracked, but more for show than anything. All your glittery, coveted attention fixed on the cellphone resting in your palm while you tapped away, your lips loosely draped over the pen you were gnawing on. 

You were positively mesmerizing.

He briefly contemplated sliding into one of the open seats beside yours, but a gaggle of your insipid "sisters" beat him to the punch.

As if he would’ve been able to capitalize on the golden opportunity anyway; it took half the semester for him to form a full, coherent sentence in your vicinity.

Ironically, Quinn was far more comfortable when you weren’t looking.

Or, rather, Quinn was more comfortable when you didn’t know he was looking.

He didn’t interact much with anyone outside of his coding cohort and the club team—athletic prowess only garners state-school clout when your sport is top dog, and this was a football school, through and through. As such, and at the hands of his tragic awkwardness, he rarely spoke to women, if ever.

And he never got face time with any as effortlessly beautiful and interesting as you.

Discovering that your large bedroom window faced the secluded side street he took to get home from practice each night felt like a sign. He’d struck gold, and it would be a shame not to put the knowledge to good use.

In his own shadowy domain, he could be whatever and whoever he wanted; he could be the guy who got the girl.

It was exhilarating, really. 

Quinn supposed some of that rush should be attributed to the feeling of unbridled control his daily routine sorely and consistently lacked. He hardly, if ever, felt like an active participant in his own life.

But in the privacy of his own head—and the safety of the very curb he’s stood on now—there were no alpha douche-canoes to eat up your finite attention or loud airheads to crave your tutelage. 

Between sundown and sun-up, you were his and his alone.

— Even if you were none the wiser.

As benevolent as you may appear, he knew you would never give a guy like him the time of day. Quinn was a lot of things, but stupid's never been one of them.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence if it weren’t for your shared smaller sessions on Thursday mornings. Just you and him… and ten other students, with the occasional appearance of your slacker TA—how romantic.

And if he couldn’t even get a moment alone with you, he definitely wouldn’t get a night inside of you, either. 

So, he settles.

Quinn puts up with the bugs and tolerates the bushes, swallowing his pride (and his mortification), and takes what he can get.

He's accustomed to maneuvering in the dark—this stretch of pavement in particular—but he stumbles through the dimly lit street like he’s got two left feet that only grew in yesterday. 

If you were privy to his impromptu audition for Bambi, you don’t mention it.

And if you clocked the obnoxious bulge tenting his jeans, you don’t acknowledge that, either.

Quinn isn’t entirely sure this is happening in his real, waking life; it’s far too good to be true. 

This is not at all where he thought the night would go when your name flashed across the screen.

When he hesitantly clicked ‘accept’ and brought the phone to his ear, all while still palming himself to the memory of your head tossed back in ecstasy—the way it was before the lights went out abruptly —Quinn assumed he’d soon be gripping steel bars.

“H-How’d you get this number?” he asked after hearing his name.

You whispered it so ardently he could almost feel your breath on his cheek. It made him shiver and, momentarily, forget he’d likely been caught red-handed—literally.

“You made the group chat for our section, silly.”

Instinct compelled Quinn to chastise himself, but knowing you remembered that minute detail—a nothing of a fact, really—was enough to override the urge entirely.

And the complete lack of ire in your voice lured him into a false sense of security yet to be disproven.

He gulped and willed his hand to stop moving. “Oh, right. Uh, is there something you need? Did the outline for next week not go through? Because if not, I can just re-send it ri—”

“Meet me at the same door as last time,” you sliced through his rambling with a tone that was neither foreboding nor comforting.

Then, the line went dead.

For once, Quinn was grateful to be so eager to please. If not for that zeal, he couldn't have walked up to the service door of Delta Nu.

Risking the wrath of your underlings was never a goal of his, but considering how quickly they turned up their plastic noses at him when he came by to drop off notes from the class you missed, Quinn couldn’t imagine worse circumstances for Round Two. 

When the backdoor swung in, you spoiled him in all your glory and the assurance of an empty house.

Out of pure exhaustion—and in his excitement to resume his ritual after a long week away—it slipped his mind; tonight is the best and biggest Kappa Tau rager.

Hence the ghost town

“Do you stand out there all night, stalker?”

Quinn’s head bobbed despite the apt insult. Then, he remembered you couldn’t see his reply, given that you were leading him up a staircase.

“M-Most nights, yeah.”

At that, you spun on your heel. Quinn shook like a leaf as you stepped forward. Gripping the railing, a hand on either side of his shrunken form, you invaded his personal space for the sole purpose of degrading him further.

The sneer hadn’t reached your eyes, but it speared him just the same. “God, you’re fucking pathetic.”

Quinn launched into an attempt at groveling, but his own verbal clumsiness rendered the effort futile.

However, his sputtered half-thoughts and litany of sentences that went nowhere were brought to a screeching halt by a single, manicured finger. Unable to process the touch and the wicked grin on your otherwise cherubic face concurrently, he froze.

His predicament worsened when you gently breached the tight seam of his lips to rest your interruption against his tongue.

You stepped closer; he saw stars. “I like that.”

It was at that moment Quinn realized you came straight down to the side-yard...because he could taste you. As you massaged his tongue with the pad of your finger, effectively rubbing your essence into his body, it took every ounce of strength to keep himself from busting right there in your foyer.

Still, he managed the mortification he sought to avoid.

“Are you… Are you humping me?” you barked with an incredulous snort.

Humiliation blurred his vision as you backed away from him; it wasn’t his fault your perfume elicited a Pavlovian bodily reaction. 

You kept your finger in his mouth as you bit back genuine laughter, but that just made him harder.

“Y’know,” you hummed, contemplative. You paused to watch your pointer finger slowly thrust in and out of his needy mouth. Your smirk was noticeably wider when you spoke again. “My last boyfriend couldn’t even text me back—or remember that he was in a monogamous relationship.”

Quinn blinked. “Your last boyfriend?”

The question was garbled by your finger—and his own sucking. It didn’t matter, though. His reply wasn’t necessary.

At least, not yet.

“Mhmm, my last one.”

You repeated yourself as if you were speaking to a child and not to the grown man whose boner was digging into your skin. 

It made him whimper. Your condescension was his kryptonite, apparently.

“But...I know my next one will be different; you’re too devoted to hurt me.”

He wasn’t given time to respond because as soon as you got your desired reaction—mewling akin to a bleating lamb and the whites of his eyes—you were dragging him up the remaining stairs and into the president’s suite.

Quinn’s spent countless hours wondering what your bedroom looked like, and even more fantasizing about what might happen if he ever saw it firsthand. His mouth splits after working up the nerve to compare the reality of your space to his mental notes, but before he can shove out any words, you’re backing him across the room with a devious glint in your eyes.

“W-What are you doing?” he asks when his back hits glass.

Right now, he’s pressed against his standing window into your most private moments. It feels wrong to be on this side of the wall.

Quinn gets none of the bubbly warmth he assumed he would if he ever found himself here. Instead, he feels unbelievably small as he drowns in a sea of poor choices.

“I think a little exhibitionism would be good for you, Hughes.”

"I-I don’t understand…”

You smile. His stupid heart flutters.

God, love’s fucking embarrassing.

Again, you crowd his space. This time, though, until there’s barely enough room between the window pane and your body for his wilted one. You press a single, fleeting kiss to his pulse point, your breath fanning over his clammy skin. His hitches in his throat.

“I want you to see things from my point of view.”

The words seep into his neck. Your intentions slam into him like a semi-truck going full speed. Anyone walking on the path—his path— would need only to venture a peek at your window to know exactly what was happening.

It would be too easy to watch him the way he’s watched you for weeks. 

A taste of his own medicine.

The candy-coated threat shouldn’t have the effect that it does. Given how emotionally charged the air’s become—for him, at least—it makes sense for his body to get some wires crossed; the same sticky emotion causing him to wither in fear should not be making him harder than ever.

He isn’t expecting you to kiss him, so it takes Quinn’s mind a beat to catch up. Still, he melts into the affection like it's the only thing keeping him alive. Though, as soon as Quinn regains enough composure to actually participate, you kill the kiss as swiftly as you brought it to fruition.

He chases after your mouth, much to your amusement.

“What, sad there was no tongue?” you tease as if you weren't the one to ruined the moment. 

Quinn doesn’t find you very funny right now.

“We’re going to play a little game.” 

Your lips brush his as your hushed words march out, but he remains still. He knows better now than to ask questions prematurely. You hum in acknowledgment, satisfied. 

Quinn beams. He's always been a quick study.

You take him by the wrist and guide him into the space you just vacated.

Physically, he knows he’s stronger. It wouldn’t take much to overpower you, but that means nothing in the face of your mental sway. Quinn can’t move because you don’t want him to—because you haven’t told him he can.

And any hope of gaining the upper hand crashes out onto the concrete the moment your bare knees hit the carpet.

Quinn knows he’s a dead man when your hands coast up his thighs.

“Put your hands on the window sill.” He does without hesitation. “Keep them there. You move, I stop. Understand?”

“Yes, I-I understand.”

“Good boy,” you say.

It’s more of a taunt than true praise, but his bulge twitches all the same before your eyes. The slight betrayal announces the internal chaos in the wake of the unexpected praise.

Quinn knew he liked that, but he didn’t want you to know it, too. What little control he managed to horde dissipates.

The delight on your face confirms the worst; you plan to do with that information what he hoped you wouldn’t. “God, I am going to have so much fun with you.”

It's an uphill battle, trying to keep his eyes open and his hands where they are supposed to be.

Quinn tastes nirvana when you finally flick the tip of your tongue over his cherry-red tip, the skin having adopted a luminous intensity courtesy of the few street lamps nearby. Glowing, after too much teasing.

Normally, he veered toward edging and denial JOI content, especially if the voice actor sounded anything like you. Tonight, he’s never hated a concept more. Still, he's making sure he behaves because he knows you’ll reward him handsomely.

You can be sweet when you want to be.

Like right now, for instance. You’re snuggling your face into his body, generously nuzzling his painfully stiff length with your cheeks. Whenever the friction mounts to anything substantial, you pull back to decorate his hips and inner thighs with little pecks.

They're reminiscent of the chaste parting kisses you’ve given his cheek in the past just to make him squirm.

You lap up what you can of the escaping arousal, hungrily drinking down all he has to offer. You do your best, you really do, but there’s just too much. The successor to each puddle arrives faster than you expect, and quicker than you can keep up with.

So, you stop trying.

You’re both so desperate, anyway.

Quinn bites back a scream when your dominant hand loops around the base of his cock; the cruel, beautiful beast only settling once the middle finger finally reaches the accompanying thumb. The pressure is light, but encompassing enough to make him dizzy.

So dizzy, in fact, that he actually appreciates your one rule.

However, nothing could have prepared him for what torture you enact next.

Blinking up at him, you rub the leaking tip over and between your lips. With one hand braced against his bare thigh and the other unchanged, you gently tug downward as you suckle the bulbous head.

The sensation is unlike anything Quinn has felt in his limited experience, which he wears like a scarlet letter. The little huffs that make him feel like a dog panting in mid-July remind him that while he's gotten a blowjob or two before, they were nothing like this one. They weren't from you. It might be unfair to lump those instances in with the magic of your mouth.

You can’t compete where you don’t compare.

So, Quinn showers you in soft, airy whispers. Even when you pull back until only the ridge preceding the tip rests past your spit-stained lips, he goes on and on about how good your mouth feels and how much he adores you. 

And, if he were slightly more coherent, maybe he would’ve caught the obvious squeeze of your thighs at his flushed cheeks and the reciprocal effect your lazy teasing.

His hips go rogue when you try to swallow him a little deeper, jerking forward and sending the firm tip to the back of your throat. Naturally, you lose your grip and gag around him, your eyes watering more and more with each subsequent unintended impact.

Quinn is bashfully apologetic, but you’re quick to remove him from your mouth.

“Shouldn’t you already know I like to choke on it?” your raspy voice goads.

You shoot him a wink before hollowing your cheeks to accommodate his wide girth, your tongue flattened and pressed tautly to the underside.

The shallow movement triggers images he shouldn’t have, bright and flashing through his head: of you, on your knees like this for that jerk-off ex-boyfriend of yours—of you, from a distance and fuzzy, forever immortalized in a single film unit pinned to the back wall of his closet.

Quinn does know you like to choke on it. He knows you like to be choked, too.Quinn knows a lot of things about you—likes, dislikes, sleep patterns, study habits… sexual preferences.

Your bizarre reaction to his Peeping Tom antics makes him wonder what you might know about him…

He’s given no time to fall down that rabbit hole on account of your nose brushing his public bone once more. Quinn cannot fathom how his length disappeared down your throat so smoothly, and it's useless to try, given how thoroughly muddied his head’s become with your tongue gently petting the delicate skin of his sack.

With your lips stretched around the base—and your thumb tucked into your palm to subdue innate reflex—you begin massaging what you can. Until you realize quinn has absolutely zero volume control. As crazy as his loud and breathy moans make you, you’ve come too far only to get this far.

Viscous, glasslike threads hang between your withheld mouth and his anguished cock in the lower fringe of your vision. Above you, Quinn is struggling, whimpering like a lost puppy caught in a storm. 

Lips parted ever-so-slightly, his forehead rests against the frame, limp. He's white-knuckling the historic, but recently refurbished wood, trembling in your barely-there hold because he’s that aroused. Mindlessly teetering on the border of “too much” and “not enough," all the while mumbling unintelligibly between choppy breaths.

You could get drunk on those pretty sounds; you’re sure of it. 

Maybe next time, you will.

“I know I said everyone was out, but I don’t think you want Ms. Patty busting through the door before you have a chance to.”

The thought of your sixty-year-old, strict-as-fuck house mother catching him with his pants around his ankles is just horrific enough to coax him a bit closer to the ground.

Quinn bites his lip in a show of good faith.

“Good boy,” you hum your approval while stroking him. “Now, tell me what you want. Tell me what you need to cum in my mouth, Quinn.”

“I need—f-fuck!” he grumbles, at war with himself. Ultimately, primal need overpowers the fickle social invention that is a shame: “I need you to play with… with my b-balls again—please.”

Delaying his wish, you wrap your mouth around him one last time. You need to elicit that one-of-one sudden, uneven intake of air—the giveaway gasp, the tremor of truth. Insatiable, you fill your throat to the brink. The distinct, thick scent of the day’s natural musk swirling with the sheen of hard work on the ice keeps you there until your vision blurs and drool pools under your tongue.

Motivated by a sticky, overdue reward and a whine bursting from deep in Quinn’s throat—the sweet sound of total surrender—you succumb to your own desire to make him feel the best he’s ever felt.

You lick at them gingerly at first, and with a doughy, flattened tongue. You meant to test the waters, to take things slow and drag out his orgasm, but a string of colorful language tumbles from his pretty, pink mouth to derail your plans.

With the dam crumbling, you have to suck one into your hot, wet mouth.

His reaction does not disappoint.

Your spit-soaked hands rise to his recently abandoned length as you devote equal attention to the pair with your mouth. Quinn swells and heavies on your tongue and everything is throbbing.

Including the tight heat between your knees, pulsing around the mere thought of him fucking you there instead.

“S’close, ‘m gonna c-cum soon—Shit!”

Amidst the drawn-out expletive, you detach in order to aim his release on his behalf (though very reluctantly), knowing full-well Quinn is far too gone to be capable of anything.

His eyelids flutter seconds before snapping open, intent to watch you watch him fall apart.

Oh, and fall apart he does…

Crude and ear-piercing, and over faster than either of you would’ve preferred, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little flattered by it. You enjoy how easy he is—how pliable.

His hips jerk too easily and his hands wander aimlessly, and you can’t bring yourself to chastise him, entirely consumed by the show unfolding at your hand. It's like he can’t help himself; can’t help but twitch and drip, can’t help but whimper and beg for anything and everything.

He won’t even let you pull away to catch your breath without whining. At one point, whether by accident or designed to keep you from retreating, Quinn’s knees squeezed together, effectively caging you in from both sides.

A messy concoction of cum, spit, and tears paints the lower half of your face. Quinn’s chest heaves as he watches it collect and drip down your neck and into the valley of your chest, soiling your delicate pajamas beyond repair.

Unfazed, you leave the emotionality to him while you lick your fingers clean. Once you’ve finished, you mop up the dissenter spray on your cheeks, chin, and décolletage, and greedily swallow it down, too. It's when you delve between your tits to scoop out the remainder of his spill that Quinn just about keels over.

He falls back against the window, and you shift back into your heels.

He rights his pants, and you wipe your mouth with the corner of your bathrobe. 

For a while, you observe one another, having not been this close—or alone—together before.

That’s not to say you didn’t notice him, though.

You actually struggled not to, and it drove your now-ex insane. His enmity toward Quinn came to a head this afternoon. Unable to deny your raging, juvenile crush, you finally pulled the trigger on something that was a long time coming—and for reasons beyond that not-so-unfounded jealousy.

“C-Can I have a head-start before you call the c-cops?” Quinn asks.

He’s so timid, you can’t help but laugh. He blinks down, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he rifles through yours, searching for malicious intent or knotted strings—fury behind an unspoken threat.

You let him look; this is a conclusion he needs to reach without you holding his hand.

When the investigation runs its course having turned up nothing dubious, he slides down to the floor beside you. He’s reverted to avoiding eye contact, unfortunately. Quinn watches the tremor in his fingers instead.

“I am sorry, y'know, about… Well, uh, you know.”

You find the way he dances around committing a felony (repeatedly) weirdly endearing.

While you very well could put him out of his palpable misery—you can actually smell it on him—there's no fun to be found in that. As such, you force Quinn to wrestle with his words a bit longer.

Eventually, you offer him a shrug that isn’t the least bit pacifying.

“You’re going to make it up to me, don’t worry.”

His eyes snap to yours just as you knew they would. His throat quivers in the wake of a sharp gulp.

The nervous tick cracks your nonchalant demeanor. You roll your eyes. “If you’re going to keep watching, you might as well make yourself useful.”

Quinn’s eyes narrow, perplexed. You grin in anticipation.

“My vibrator’s dead, and I can’t find the right charger. Time to get your ass off the bench, Hughes.”

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[heartsofminds]

and the songbirds are singing like they know the score - sneak peek

"Because doing what’s best for her is hard, and he realizes that when he can feel his friend wanting to put him through a wall over the phone." or Jake calls the landline at 11 PM on a Thursday because his goddaughter is wasted and Bradley is less than thrilled.

A/N: in light of me finishing my second to last semester of undergrad and my undying love for Bradley's precocious daughter from the halloween fic, i thought i would post a little preview of what i'm working on for them! love these characters more than life and def so excited for y'all to get to know them better soon.

No one ever calls the landline. Very few people even have the phone number for the landline outside of Maverick and a few close family friends. Besides, anyone who would need to reach you had your cell phone numbers anyway. 

So who the actual fuck is calling your landline at 11 PM on a Thursday night? 

You hear Bradley yank the phone from its place on the wall and exhale with a huff. After sixteen years of being together, you know that huff is his tell of being annoyed. 

“Hello?” he gruffly answers. His irritation makes the questions sound more like a monotonous statement. 

“Bradshaw –” 

Jake Seresin is on the other end of the line. You can recognize his voice from the other room with his cadence even though you’re not the one on the phone with him. Having “mom ears” does that to a person, you suppose. 

“Why the fuck are you calling my house at 11 PM?” Bradley snaps. 

You’re wondering the same thing, but you’ll have to talk to him about being so rude and huffy. Jake may actually need something, after all. 

“Well you weren’t answering your fucking cell and neither was your wife so I had to do something.” 

Bradley rolls his eyes and looks back into the darkened living room. He’s been more on edge about you lately. 

“You can’t miss me that fucking much to be spamming my phone with calls,” he sighs and leans his back up agaisnt the wall. He notices the open blinds on the back door and starts to walk to close them before he’s yanked back by the phone cord. 

“Don’t cream your pants. I don’t like you that much.” 

Bradley lets out a soft snort in amusement before he remembers that he’s supposed to be annoyed. He opens his mouth to ask Jake what exactly it is that’s so damn important and can’t wait until tomorrow morning when he’s beaten to it. 

“I have Quincy here in the passenger seat and she’s beyond unwell.” 

The statement sends Bradley into panic mode instantly. His voice catches in his throat and he can’t recall a moment he’s had where he’s felt like he’s had to force the breath out of himself like this. 

He lets out something between a huff, a cough, and a wheeze before remembering he can’t make a huge show of himself right now because it’ll also throw you into panic mode. 

“What the fuck do you mean she’s not well? Jake, where the fuck are you?” he whispers into the phone, trying to cover his mouth as much as possible so you can’t even read his lips if you tried. “Is she okay? What’s –” 

It doesn’t take a genius to know that Bradley is panicking. Even Bradley’s beyond intoxicated and passed out seventeen-year-old daughter sitting in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck could piece together that her father is nothing but a raging ball of anxiety at the moment, and Jake is positive that his friend is growing another patch of gray hair as the seconds pass. 

“Oh. . . fuck, I guess I should’ve phrased that better,” Jake admits. His truck comes to a halt at a spotlight and he glances over at his goddaughter. “She’s fine. She’s definitely drunk as shit right now, but I’m on the way to drop her at yours.”

Bradley can feel the obnoxious orange ball of anxiety inside of him shift to a tumultuous rage induced scarlett. His hand tightens around the cord of the phone and he has to stop himself before he yanks it out of the wall. He’s gotten angry like this before, but it never was angled toward his daughter. 

Never toward his sweet, precious girl. Never toward his amazing Quincy. 

But she knows the rules (and she chose to break them) and she knows what was told to her (and she snuck out anyway) and she knows that it’s dangerous to be that drunk (but yet she’s passed out in Jake’s truck). 

And if that isn’t both nerve-wracking and frustrating, Bradley doesn’t know what is. 

“Put her on the phone,” he speaks lowly. 

Jake gulps, knowing that he’s in one of those moods. Bradley doesn’t express anger as often as he expresses annoyance, but an angry Bradley is never someone he wants to be around. And from the way that Quincy made it sound when she called him to come get her from some random party in the middle of nowhere thirty five minutes away from her house at 11 PM on a school night, he knows her ass is being had tomorrow morning by both you and Bradley. 

There’s absolutely no way his goddaughter is coming out of this unscathed. 

“Dude, she’s obliterated right now and I think you talking to her is just gonna make it worse.” 

“And I don’t give a fuck. I said, put her on the fucking phone now.” 

Jake shakes his head and rolls his eyes as Quincy begins to stir next to him in her seat. He’s always been the person she’s called whenever she was in trouble. He always got the first hug whenever she was brought around. He’s always been her source of comfort outside of her parents and he’s never minded it because being around her is easy. 

It was easy to carry her around whenever she asked when she was little. It was easy to give in and let her sit in the cockpit of his grounded aircraft with him and let her play with the buttons when her dad and Papa Mav refused. It was easy to pick her up from school mid-day and take her to lunch. It was easy to bring her back gifts from whenever he was deployed and even easier picking them out because she’s a sucker for meaningless trinkets. 

It was easy to be her godfather and she’s a smart and relatively easy kid, but Jake has never been prepared for this part. 

Because doing what’s best for her is hard, and he realizes that when he can feel his friend wanting to put him through a wall over the phone. 

“No,” he speaks and he can hear Bradley let out a small gasp at the denial of his request, “She fucked up bad, Bradley. I’m sure she knows and you can have it out with her tomorrow morning, but right now, she’s not in any place to be screamed at and made to feel worse. You’re her dad and m’not tryin’ to take that away from you –” 

Bradley scoffs, “What exactly do you fuckin’ know about raising kids, Jake? Huh?” 

Jake grimaces and decides to take the brute of Bradley’s anger. Better him than Quincy, he figures. Besides, he knows Bradley doesn’t mean any of it. . . At least he hopes he doesn’t. 

“You obviously can’t be a dad because you just wanna have fun and dick around all the fucking time. Buying them fuckin’ candy and letting them off scott-free doesn’t do shit. You don’t have what it takes to raise a fucking person.” 

Jake doesn’t know why, but part of him starts to get that prickly feeling in his chest. Usually, every insult rolls off his shoulders into oblivion and he gets off on making people angry and being able to put on the facade that he really couldn’t give a damn if he tried.

But this one hurts because he knows that Bradley is right in some regard. 

He’s a runner and he lets people down. He’s nearing fifty (and God, he never thought he ever would) and has never even bothered to settle down. And he’s made the peace with himself a long time ago that he doesn’t deserve a wife or a family or kids because he would never be able to love them more than he loves himself; more than he loves his career. 

To hear one of your closest friends admit that to you openly, to know that someone outside of you sees it too, makes his heart stop momentarily and forces him to feel the ache of the words meant to stab him in the chest. 

“I understand,” he swallows. He knows arguing with Bradley isn’t the right thing to do at the moment and never will be. “I’m still not putting her on the phone. We will be at your house shortly.” 

The line goes dead and Bradley is overcome with a wave of anger that drowns him like a tsunami. He knows what he said was shitty and that he has no right to do that to someone who he considers a close friend, but he just can’t help himself. 

He knows no allies when it comes to his daughter. 

#bradley is a girl dad through and through and you can't tell me otherwise #also he's kind of an ass in this one but i feel like being an ass is kind of on brand for him more often than not #bradley is perpetually huffy and jake consistently has horrible timing and those are nondisputed facts #and the songbirds are singing like they know the score #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x you #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #dadley dadshaw #quincy elaine bradshaw #and jake if we're counting him too i guess

[callsign-dexter]

From Colleagues to Lovers (18+)

Request: Hey 😍 I saw a bday anon asking for a present before, so I'm being selfish and nicely asks for this as well (it's Thursday) 🙊 it would be an Antonio imagine, where they're colleagues and have feelings for each other but not dating yet. After one tough case, Antonio invites her over to his apartment for a beer and they talk a while till he kisses her and tells her how much she means to him. They end up sleeping together but all passionate and lovable and afterwards lots of cuddles where they decide to give their love a chance ? Hope this is fiiiiine.

Pairings: Antonio Dawson x Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut

Masterlist

First Installment: From Colleagues to Lovers

Second Installment: Gossip and Glances

Third Installment: Flirt with Risk

A/N: Happy birthday to the anon who sent in the request!

You had been working for Intelligence since you could remember. This means you have been working with Antonio for a while as well. You had slowly begun developing feelings for him and you just hoped that he felt the same way. It killed you to see him with any other girl but you hid your feelings well and powered through it.

You imagined what life with him would be like and you wanted it but held back. You didn't want to make things awkward especially if he shot you down and completely humiliated you. How would you be able to face him at work?

You had just gotten into work when Hank immediately went into detail about a case that you all just had gotten. It was about a man that was going around and kidnaping women and then them showing up dead in very local places.

"Antonio and Y/N I want you both to go to the last crime scene and see if you can get any information or clues. Police have they couple that found the women down there. I want you both to go and talk to her." Hank said and you nodded. You would rather go with someone else instead of making this awkward for both of you but you weren't one to disobey orders and did as you were told. You looked over to Antonio who was in his chair swiveling it side to side while look at you with a smirk, the smirk that you had fallen in love with. You smiled back at him.

"Well you heard the man. Lets go." He said and you nodded and held out your hand out towards the door.

"Lead the way." You said and he did just that. You followed him out of the building and down to the cars. You let him drive since you really didn't feel like driving and he would be more comfortable.

Once you got in and started driving he started to make small conversation which helped a little bit but it was still awkward, well at least for you, you didn't know about him.

"Do you have any plans tonight?" He had asked you and you shook your head.

"No. I don't think this case is going to allow us to have a break honestly." You said and then it was silence.

Once the small talk got nowhere he then turned the topic onto the case and that helped tremendously. "Why do you think he is doing it?" He asked you and you turned to look at him.

"He probably got out raged from a girl that dumped him and I'm guessing he doesn't take being dumped very well." You told him and he nodded.

"He probably is working his way up to the woman that dumped him. I'm guessing he's going to be way worse with her than anyone else." Antonio said.

"He's trying to perfect what he wants to do and once it is perfected then that's when he is going to strike." You said "Do we know who he broke up with?" You asked and he shook his head.

"No, Jay and Adam are supposed to be figuring that out." He said and you nodded then you arrived at the crime scene. He killed the engine and you both got out after parking. You both walked over to the crime scene and began to inspect it after not finding anything and you needed a break.

"Hey I'm gonna talk to the couple that found the body." You told Antonio and he nodded.

"I'm gonna continue looking here." He said and you nodded and you started to walk over to them.

"Good morning. I'm Detective Y/N Y/L/N. I understand that you found the body." You said and they nodded.

"We usually jog this path every morning." The woman said and you nodded.

"Did you see anything unusual when you found the body? Like someone running away or something out of place?" You asked them as you wrote down some stuff.

"No, everything was normally where is was." The man said and you nodded "Oh, there was a red pickup truck that was here but it had sped off." He said

"What was the condition of the truck?" You asked

"It was beaten up with several dings and a broken headlight. We didn't get a license plate due to us being so far away and it speeding off." The man said and you nodded.

"Thank you for your time. If we have any other questions we'll call you and if you remember anything else, don't hesitate to give us a call." You said and they nodded and you headed back to Antonio, it looked like he was done since the coroner was loading the woman up. "Hey, find anything useful?" you asked him and he shook his head.

"No. You?" He asked and you nodded.

"The couple usually runs here in the mornings. They said that they saw an old red beaten up truck with a broken headlight, it had a bunch dings in it but they couldn't get a license plate." You told him he nodded and you both started to walk back to the car to go back to the precinct and tell the information you had gotten.

**********************************************

A week into the case nothing new was coming up. If there was anything new it was just a dead end. More and more bodies have been showing up and everybody was getting restless and agitated. You just wanted to go home and enjoy a nice long hot shower with nobody to disturb you. Sleep you would also love some sleep, you barely had gotten anything when the case started and if you did it was just a few minutes and then you were back at it again. Antonio tried to keep the spirits alive and happy around you but it just wasn't working and that killed him on the inside.

You had just gotten a lead from your CI and were following and checking up on it when the lead suddenly went cold. You were frustrated but didn't let it show but Antonio could see it and so he had cornered you in the locker room.

"Everything ok?" He asked you while leaning up against the locker and you against the wall. You nodded.

"Yea everything is great." You said and he made a face.

"I know you well enough to know that you're lying. What's up?" He asked and you sighed.

"This case is frustrating and I just want it to end." You said and he nodded and then walked over to you and pulled you into a hug.

"I'm frustrated too and want it to end as well. We just have to keep pushing through and hope we catch this bastard." He said and you buried your head into his neck and nodded. "Hey what do you say about us getting a pizza and drinking a few beers at my place, after this is all over?" He asked and you nodded and pulled away to look at him.

"I would love that." You said and he smiled then Kim walked in.

"Hey, we got something let's go." She said and you all hurried out of the room. All 3 of you walked into the bullpen and Hank started to talk.

"We have found his location. His name is Arlen Harlow. As of right now he still has his victim hostage. Gear up and get ready to go." Hank said and you all nodded. Everyone got ready and drove to the location.

Antonio and you rode together to the house. You all made sure you had everything and had bulletproof vests on before storming the house. Once everyone did Hank gave the all-clear, Jay kicked in the door and you all went in. You heard a chours of clears but you had yet to say anything because you were down in the basement staring down Alren, with your gun pointed at him.

When you didn't answer and heard your fellow team members in your ear, they came down to where you were. "We can talk about this." You said to him and he shook his head.

"No. No we can not. I can't go back to jail." He said getting frantic.

"Let the woman go and maybe we can make a deal." You said knowing that the others are there listening and again he shook his head.

"I'm not going back." He said and raised his gun at the woman and as he was about to pull the trigger, you pulled yours and he went down. You stood there not believing what just happened but you quickly got over it and went to the women. You comforted her and then EMTs took her to the hospital.

When you got back to the precinct you filled out your report and talked to Hank. Even though it wasn't ideal you did what had to be done. When you got done talking with him everyone had left the building, well you thought everyone did.

You were sitting at your desk head in hands going over the day. This case was a tough one and it always took a toll on you. You don't know how long you were sitting there but jumped when you felt hands on your shoulders. You turned to look at who it was and it was none other than Antonio. He was smiling at you and you smiled back. "Are you ok?" He asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

"Tough cases always take a toll on me for some reason." You said and he nodded.

"How about that beer and pizza at my place?" He asked and you nodded smiling.

"That sounds amazing." You said and got up. You got your purse and got up while he waited. You both walked out of there together. "What about my car?" You asked him and he shook his head.

"We'll get in the morning." He said and you nodded and followed him out to his truck. Once he opened the door and shut it and then got in, you were able to try and relax. It was a comfortable silence on the ride to his place.

**********************************************

When you arrived he had parked and killed the engine and got out. You were about to open the door but he had beaten you to it. You smiled at him and let him help you down and into his apartment. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna go put my gun away and then order the pizza." He said and you nodded as you both kicked off your shoes. You went to his fridge and grabbed two beers and headed to the couch.

Not even 2 minutes later he was coming back out smiling at you and you handed him his beer. "I already grabbed you one." You said and he took it.

"Why thank you. Pizza should be here in 10 minutes." He said and you nodded and snuggled into him as he sat down.

"Anything you want to watch?" You asked him and shook his head.

"No. I don't have anything that I'm into at the moment." He said and you gasped.

"The Antonio Dawson is not interested in anything? That's a shock." You said while chuckling.

"It's the truth." He said trying to defend himself and you shook your head and turned on something random which was Fixer Upper. You both made comments until the pizza came. He got up and grabbed the money and paid for the pizza and brought it over to the couch. Half of the pizza was gone and several beers were drank between you both.

You could tell there was something on his mind so you turned off the volume and looked at him. "What's wrong?" You asked and he looked at you.

"What makes you think there is something wrong?" He asked and you turned to look at him fully.

"You always make this face when you're thinking about something. What's up?" You asked again and he sighed and turned to look at you.

"I'm gonna tell you something and I hope it doesn't mess up what we have." He said and you nodded for him to continue. "I've liked you for a while now. Ever since I met you in Intelligence actually. You were the most beautiful woman I've seen and I just couldn't get over your beauty. All of the other girls I've been with were just a distraction for me from you." He said and you didn't know what to say but when you looked into his eyes you did.

"I felt that same way for a while now too." You said.

"You don't have to take pity on me Y/N. I know that's that not true." Antonio said and you shook your head.

"No, it's the truth. When you were with those other girls it killed me inside. I wanted to be the one that you took on dates. I wanted to be the one that had your attention. I've liked no loved you for as long as I could remember. I just thought you were way out of my league to even look at him, much less date me." You said and the next thing you knew you were kissing each other. You continued to kiss until air was needed and then you broke apart.

"Bedroom?" He asked and you nodded not trusting your voice. That kiss was perfect and you felt fireworks go off.

He got up and held out a hand to you and you took it. He led you to his bedroom where he shut the door while you sat down on his bed. He walked over to you while shedding his shirt and showing off his toned chest. He bent down and kissed you and you put your hands on his 6 pack. He gently laid you down and got on top of you and but not putting any weight on you.

Antonio kissed you and then he started to kiss you on the side of your neck and under your ear just on the pulse point, your sweet spot. He sucked on it and nipped at the skin, there was definitely going to be a hickey there in the morning. It had you a moaning mess and your toes curling.

You felt his hands at the hem of your shirt and he looked up and you nodded. He slowly got rid of your shirt and then you felt him kiss down the valley of your breasts and down the hem of your jeans. He reached behind you and unhooked your bra and got rid of it. "You're perfect." He said and sucked your right nipple into his mouth and your head was thrown back and your mouth opened. Your hands went to his head and you pulled his hair. One of his hands went into your jeans and underwear and ran through your slick folds.

"Antonio." You moaned out and then he let go of that nipple and switched to the other, never letting up on touching you. You were close and when his finger went into your entrance and found your g-spot is when that rubber band in your stomach snapped and you moaned out his name.

As you were coming down from your high he was pulling the rest of your clothes off and yours as well. You sat up on your elbows and watched him as he reached over to his nightstand grabbed a condom and rolled it down on his now erect cock that had you drooling. "What about you? I want to take care of you." You said breathlessly.

"Another time. This is all about you." He said and then spread your legs and licked up your folds and that had you falling back onto the bed. He swirled his tongue around your entrance and probed it. Then he went up to your clit and sucked on it and gently bit it. Your hands were back in his hair. If you weren't wet before then you were definitely were now. He was eating you out like your life depended on it.

"Antonio! Right there!" You exclaimed and then he stopped and you let go of his hair. You whimpered but it was stopped by him kissing you. He ran his cock up and down you a few times before pushing into you to the hilt. You were no virgin but the way he made you stretch made you feel like one, he stretched you in ways you didn't know it was possible but in a good way.

"You're so tight. It was like you were made for me." He said and then waited for you to adjust and for a signal to move and when you did he started to slowly thrust into you. He brought his face down to your neck and was kissing your skin and nipping at it.

"So good!" You said and brought your hands up to his shoulders. He slowly kept thrusting into you making the pleasure last. You felt that the rubber band started constricting again "Faster." You told him and felt him smirk.

"As you wish." He said into your shoulder and picked up his pace again hitting in all the right places. Your nails dug into his skin leaving indents and then they started to rake down his back and you felt and heard him hiss. There was no doubt that there were going to be scratches down his back but he would wear them proudly.

"I'm close." You told him and he nodded.

"Me too." He said and then his thrusts started to get sloppy. On the next thrust, he stilled inside you and shot his load into the condom as your climax hit as well. He rode you through your orgasm and his.

Once you both came back down he slowly slid out of you with a now soft cock. He got up and took it off and tied it off and threw it away. You watched him but couldn't say anything too out of it. You watched him go into his bathroom and come back with a washcloth. He started to wipe between your legs and up your folds which made you jump. "I'm sorry." He said as he finished and you shook your head.

"I'm just a little sensitive. Nobody has made me cum especially twice before." You said and he had a look of horror on his face.

"Then they weren't doing it right or taking care of you." He said and then discarded the washcloth in the hamper and came over and laid down. You turned to him and cuddled into him. "I love you Y/N. Nothing is going to change that. I want to be with you. I want to take you on dates. I want to give our love for each other a chance." He said and you smiled.

"I would love that, Antonio. I love you too. I want to be with you. I really want to give our love a chance, I have ever since I met you." You said and then he kissed you.

"Then it's settled. We both want the same thing. I love you." He said

"I love you too." You replied and snuggled into his chest

As you were drifting off you felt him press a kiss to your head and rest his on top of yours. You finally did it. You confessed to your crush over pizza and beer you couldn't be happier. You both loved each other and aren't going to be letting each other go anytime soon.

Who knew it would take a tough case for it to happen? You certainly didn't. Do you wish it would've happened another way? Maybe you did but you weren't complaining about how it did happen.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

#antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson x reader fic #antonio dawson x reader fandom #antonio dawson x reader imagine #antonio dawson x reader fanfic #antonio dawson x reader fanfiction #antonio dawson x reader imagines #one chicago imagines #one chicago fanfiction #one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #one chicago fandom #one chicago fanfic #one chicago x reader #one chicago x reader fanfic #one chicago x reader fandom #one chicago x reader fic #one chicago x reader fanfiction #one chicago x reader imagine #one chicago x reader imagines

[jerzwriter]

Reckoning

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Characters: Tobias Carrick & Casey, Aurora Emery Rating: Teen Words: 2,000 Series Summary: Found here Chapter Summary: A few months after the chemical attack, a friend at Mass Kenmore gives Tobias a good-natured ribbing, and then Aurora offers him some advice. A/N: I'm getting there, y'all! I'm close to sharing exactly how these crazy kids finally get together! It's only been three years in the making! lol I'm not sure how much interest there is in this anymore, but I can tell you this, I'm elated that I'm finally getting it done! 😊

The timing of this story is just after Christmas Through Your Eyes: Part One - A Proposition (I'll be working on their masterlist to make it more understandable this weekend. 😊)

With Warning Masterlist Tobias x Casey Masterlist || My Full Masterlist

Inside, it was a typical morning at Mass Kenmore, but the thunderstorm raging just outside the window made the stark white walls and fluorescent lighting feel more like a refuge. The familiar sounds of staff chatting and announcements over the PA were almost soothing, and Tobias couldn't have felt more at home behind his desk. Aurora sat before him, and while she was a relative newcomer to Kenmore, she, too, was at ease as the two doctors met to review morning rounds. They were discussing their final case when a knock interrupted them.

"Come in," Tobias yelled, and in bopped Amanda, a nursing supervisor whose tenure equaled Dr. Carricks. Her bouncing chestnut brown curls and glossy-lipped smile elevated the room's mood even before she held up two cups of Tradesman coffee.

"Hey, there!" she beamed. "I haven't seen you in forever, so I thought I'd bring you some..."

She stopped short when Aurora looked up from her seat, politely nodding before turning back to her laptop.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were having a meeting. I'll just leave this for you." She placed the coffee on Tobias's desk. "We'll catch up another time."

"Tradesman," Tobias grinned. "Now that's my coffee. Why don't you wait, Mandy? We're wrapping up. I should be free in fifteen minutes."

"In fifteen minutes, I'll be starting my rounds with two interns in tow. Maybe after work? Will you be at the Puddingstone tonight?”  

The week had been busy, and one day melded into another. Peeking at his calendar, Tobias confirmed it was Wednesday - Casey's therapy night. He always drove her there, and on weeks when fate smiled on him, he’d share dinner with her, too.

"No can do," he frowned. "Tomorrow?"

"I’m off Thursdays. Maybe sometime this weekend?”

But he and Casey had plans. “Maybe Sunday night if I’m not exhausted.”

“Dear God, Carrick,” Amanda laughed. “When did you become such a hot commodity!”

Aurora tried to stifle a giggle but still caught Tobias’s attention.

“Yes,” he droned. “Are there comments from the peanut gallery?”

Aurora shrugged indifferently, her expression unreadable. “It’s just that rumor around here is that you were always a hot commodity.”

“Very funny,” he grumbled as Amanda broke into laughter.

“He was!” She jumped in. “Which is why I don’t understand why it’s suddenly so hard to see him.”

“I’ve just had a lot going on,” he replied nervously. “But things should settle down soon, and then I’m sure that....”

Ignoring Tobias, Amanda peered at Aurora. “Word on the street is he has a girlfriend! Can you believe that?”

“Amanda!” He barked. “Stop. That’s not true.”

“Well, how would I know?” she teased. “I never see you anymore, so it’s not like I’m privy to what’s going on in your life.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he mumbled. “It’s just...”

“You don’t have to explain,” the nurse interrupted. I don’t care —no one does. We’re all just glad that the grumpy period you had a few months back is over. It was so uncharacteristic! I’m happy to see you smiling again. I’d like to see that smile over drinks at the Puddingstone on occasion, but I digress.”

Tobias turned to an amused Aurora. “Go back to Edenbrook, Emery. It seems working here comes with a side of abuse.”

“Abuse?” Amanda chortled. “Dear God, Carrick. You don’t know what abuse is.” With a shake of her head, she turned toward the door, looking back over her shoulder before leaving the room.

“Lunch soon?”

“Sure,” Tobias nodded, eager for her to leave.

“Bye, Aurora,” Amanda winked. “Maybe you can get the truth out of him.”

The door shut, and Aurora dutifully returned to work, doing her best to conceal her cryptic smile. But Tobias wasn't letting it go.

 “What?” Tobias grumbled.

She raised her eyes inquisitively but ensured her face gave nothing away. “What... what? I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. You’re thinking something... what is it?”  

“You really want to know?” she deadpanned.

“I asked.”

She closed her laptop and placed it to her side, crossing her hands atop her lap before she began.

“Before I begin. Is this conversation between Dr. Emery and her boss, Dr. Carrick? Or Aurora and her friend, Tobias?”

“You consider me a friend?” he smirked.

“That might depend on the outcome of this conversation, but for now... yes, I do.”

“Then, sit back and relax,” he grinned. “Because I’m asking you as a friend.”

“All right... what's the deal with you and Casey?”

“Oh, right to the point, I see!”

“Yep,” Aurora nodded. “And I’d appreciate you being just as direct... so? What’s the deal?”

“Deal? There is no deal.”

“Uh-huh,” she responded, picking up her laptop again. “If you’re going to bullshit me, I’m going back to work.”

Aurora had no problem with doing that, but Tobias couldn't get his mind back on work if he tried.

“I mean it. We’re friends—just friends," he continued. I don’t know why this is so difficult for everyone to accept.”

She closed her laptop again, this time with a deliberately smug gaze.

“She’s my friend, too, Tobias. Just my friend... but I don’t have to go around making that declaration. Normally, you don’t... when you're just friends, that is.”

Tobias ran a hand down his weary face and began swiveling in his chair. “It’s just getting old...that’s all.”

“What is?”

“No one believing me.... people threatening me about what will happen if I mess with her... I suppose that’s the next thing you’ll be doing, too.”

“Nope,” Aurora shrugged. The last time I checked, you were both consenting adults. What you choose to do together is not my concern.”

“Really,” he said with a raised brow. “Wow! That’s refreshing. I mean... nothing is going on between us... but, theoretically, if there were... you’d be OK with it.”

“I am OK with it.”

“That’s good to... hey, wait. What do you mean you are OK with it... there’s nothing to be OK with!”

Aurora crossed her arms and judgementally shook her head as she assessed him.

“You’re friends?”

“Yes!”

“Do you enjoy spending time with her?”

“Obviously.”

“Do you find her unattractive?”

“What? No! Casey’s beautiful,” he replied without hesitation, and Aurora rewarded him with a know-it-all grin.

“Do you think I’m stupid, Tobias?”

“Of course not!”

“Then it would do you good to remember that I was there. I was with you the day of the attack, from the moment you learned of it until I found you trembling in the chapel when it was over.”

“That’s not fair,” he countered. “That was an extremely difficult day for all of us. As I recall,  we were all pretty emotional.”

“Mmm-hmm. But I was also with the two of you when you first met. I had to bear witness to that disgusting animal magnetism you shared from its inception. Kind of gross, actually.”

He chuckled softly, but Aurora was shocked by his reaction. Was the Dr. Carrick... embarrassed?

“Nothing wrong with animal magnetism,” he replied. “But that was... it was a long time ago.”

“IT WAS FIVE MONTHS AGO!” she yelled. “Five months!”

“Yeah,” he replied softly. “But an awful lot has happened in that time... it feels much longer, doesn't it?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’ll give you that. Look, I’m not here to give you grief, but I have eyes. I see you two together, and from where I stand, you make each other happy. I don’t know why you both get so wound up if someone suggests there’s something there. Would it be so horrible if there was?”

“I hurt her. Badly, and not all that long ago.”

“Ah,” she smiled. “But a lot has happened since you met.”

“She’s not interested in me in that way, Aurora. She made that clear, and I... I respect that. I’m not going to violate her boundaries.”  

“Mmm-hmm. She told me you’re taking her away this weekend. To show her your hometown. Is that how you're not violating boundaries?”

“I... I just want to see DC at Christmas again. I was going to go alone anyway. I just asked Casey to come along... as a friend. It might be good for her to get away. It's not like we're sharing a room or anything! Ask her! I got a suite because she’s still afraid to be alone at night, but we’re not sharing a room! I’ll be there if she needs me, but I’m not....”

Aurora leaned forward and silenced him with a gentle touch to his wrist. “You know, you say far too many words for someone trying so hard to deny the obvious. You may want to work on that if you want others to believe you.”

Tobias’s face softened, and his composure settled. Aurora could see his defenses coming down.  

“This stays here?” He asked pointedly.

Aurora raised three fingers. “Scouts honor. What happens in Carrick’s office stays in Carrick’s office.”

“Casey... she’s incredible,” he sighed. “I knew that from the start, but I still had to go and fuck everything up between us. When she let me back into her life, she made it clear that she only wanted friendship from me. While it may not be easy, I’m honoring that. You should be proud of me... this is growth, Emery.”

“Growth is good,” she smiled. “Honoring boundaries is the right thing, but did it ever occur to you that she may have changed her mind? Did you ever consider she might feel the same way about you?”

 “No,” he shook his head. “No, she doesn’t. And even if she did, she’s not in a place to make that kind of decision right now. So...no.”

“You’re right, she’s not. And I am proud of you for realizing that. But that’s today, Tobias, and she’s getting stronger every day. I can see that. I know you do, too. Can you be patient?”

 “Historically?” He snorted. “No. Not at all. But now...I am trying.”

Aurora looked at her watch. “I hate to leave you, but I’m supposed to be at a consult with Dr. Ferrera in five minutes. But if you want to continue this talk, I can come by as soon as I’m done.”

“Nah,” he waved. “I’m good... but thank you.”

“Anytime,” she said, gathering her things. But Tobias called for her just before she got to the door.

“Aurora. Why don’t you have reservations about me... you know... aren’t you worried about Casey and... my past?”

“I have reservations about everyone,” she grinned. “But I know you’re not as bad as people make you out to be. As to your past, well, we all have one of those, including those who are threatening you. But, if I don’t want to be judged by my past, so I shouldn’t judge you by yours. Besides, Casey’s a big girl. She’s going through some stuff right now, but she still has a good head on her shoulders. If you guys decide to make a go of it, I’m in your corner.”

Tobias let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome... but none of this matters,” she teased. “After all, the two of you are ‘just friends’.”

“Get out of my office,” he joked. “But promise... this stays between us?”

 “I’ll take it to my grave... and not only because I want no part of the drama.”

She stepped out of the door, leaving Tobias alone with his thoughts. He closed his eyes, wondering how it was possible to feel so much lighter yet emotionally depleted at the same time. Did he really just admit he had feelings for Casey... to Aurora... and himself? Did he actually say the words out loud?

He stood up with a deep sigh and made his way to the window, pushing the blinds aside to watch the torrential rains pour down on the streets of Boston below. It was a baptism of sorts, the water washing away all impurities, absolving every sin, and when the sun returned, it would be a fresh start. Perhaps it wasn't too much to ask that he might have one, too.

When he returned to his desk, he mindlessly circled the days of their trip on his calendar. Patience. They'd be visiting his hometown... hers, too... surrounded by the magic of the holiday season... and he’d have to do his best to conceal his feelings. Patience. He had to do this... now if he could just figure out how.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#choices fanfic #open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #tobias x casey #playchoices fanfic

[hoolalafoolalal]

The wind will always embrace the sky

Prapai has set standards so high that I doubt if my other fictional characters will make up to it, let alone real ones.

He has always put Sky before his any need, any thought, any breath. The absolute need for him to constantly show his love to Sky, be there when he needs him, no questions ever asked when he saw him go through those nightmares. It takes an immense amount of courage not to ask, not to pry and not to suspect the reason why he has those those nightmares, and Prapai always stood there boldly.

The way he is observant towards anything even remotely related to Sky. When Gun praises Sky, Prapai's demeanor instantly shifts to aggressive, wanting to know why and how Gun knows about Sky. And instantly turning back to a golden retriever when Gun tells him it's his IG making everyone jealous.

The deep safety and comfort he gives to Sky by bringing him to his home, not to the dorm, not to any hotel, his home, telling Sky how much he means to him.

The way he listened to the whole ordeal. It was so painful but Pai kept his attention on Sky's face, smiling when he did and comforting him. He does not even flinch when Sky mentions how much he at once, loved Gun.

But oh! The anger in him when Sky tells him he is trash, broke him, and broke us. The smile which Sky wore telling him that he is damaged goods was haunting. But Sky braved through. He is a hero. He deals with his trauma throughout while telling Prapai his past, only for him. He knows if he breaks down, Prapai's anger will have no bounds and most probably he will too break down.

When Prapai tells Sky that he will love and keep him so happy that others will be jealous of him, it's a promise to himself. He has seen Sky weak, and feeling undeserved of any love, affection, that he wants to give him all. And there is no doubt that he will love Sky so much that everyone will be jealous of him.

Though Sky seems comforted, Prapai is burning with rage, he cannot forgive Gun who had the audacity to touch his boyfriend and more than that use his own room to do it. Pretty sure he woke up early in the morning and the first thing he did was arrange a funeral for Gun and his friends.

He sold himself to P'Pakin and thinks that it's a small price to pay for Sky's safety and happiness. And when he tells Sky that Gun will not be seen again, Sky instantly knows that there is a price that he paid for him. He is worried but Prapai is there, telling him to believe in him.

Absolutely loved how Prapai plucked Gun's eyebrow ring and proceeded to beat him into a pulp. His first instinct even when seeing Gun and Sky together was to ensure Sky is safe.

He knows he can deal with Gun later on but Sky, Sky needs him. He immediately needs to be pulled out of the nightmare. The first thing when Sky says if he can only love him and not give him to anyone else, shatters us across.

It is so soothing to see Sky so happy and comfortable in Prapai's home. His smile which at first never came, now does not stop. Prapai has made him his world and Sky shines brightly in it.

Sky deserves the world and the Wind will bring him the world.

Absolutely great ending to a great story.

Will miss waiting for Thursday now.

To all of us who have watched the show together, across the world, may you find your Wind or your Sky.

#love in the air #love in the air series #prapaisky #fortpeat #episode 13 #what an absolute gem #prapaiwife #prapai x sky #prapai love in the air #lita the series #lita

[bullet-prooflove]

Hii! Happy thursday! I hope youre having a great week! 💕💕

Silk on her body, pull it down and watch it slip off

With Bruno👀🙏🏻

Part of the Cowboy!Terry Universe

The Ranch - You fell in love with Terry underneath the stars in Montana.

Whiskey Kisses - You and Terry share your first kiss after a whiskey tasting event.

Memorable (NSFW) - You make your first time with Terry memorable.

Montana - Terry recieves a holiday card in the mail.

The last time Terry laid eyes on you was in a cabin in Vancouver. It had been the morning after your wedding and he remembers the silk slipping from your skin as he’d made love to you for the last time. He remembers the bliss in that moment, the sense of belonging to someone so completely that you’d die for them. It’s a couple of hours later that he gives you the envelope with your new identity inside.

“You stay safe alright?” he murmurs as his lips brush over your hairline because it’s the last time he’s going to see you in a while and he needs that reassurance.

It’s as he sits on the porch of his ranch listening to detectives from the local P.D tear his place apart that he thinks of the old cigar box, hidden in the alcove of the old tree at the edge of his property line. You used to leave each other love notes there once upon a time, it’s where he’s left his wedding ring and the polaroid picture a stranger took of the two of you standing on the steps of the courthouse.

This is just one of the many secrets he keeps regarding you.

Noone knows that he came to your house the night you killed Donovan. The police had never been able to prove that it was him on those videos with your niece but you knew it was him. It tore you up that he’d gotten away with it. The two of you had talked about it at length while you watched Amelie trot around the pasture on Balderdash. She’d started healing since joining Healing Hooves, the trauma program Terry ran out of his ranch, it’s how the two of you met. He knows what rage looks like, he’s seen it you everytime you thought about that man.

When Terry stepped into your kitchen that evening, he had known there wasn’t a chance in hell you could claim self-defence.

“He showed me the original video.” You’d said, your voice entirely devoid of emotion as you stare down at the knife sticking out of Donovan’s chest. “It’s worse than what he put up on that website.”

That’s why Terry decides to help you, that and the fact he is so hopelessly in love with you that the thought of you going to prison for something that was justified kills him. It’s just another sign of how much he’s changed since he left New York.

It’s a fluke that they find the body. Terry’s a city boy at heart, he hadn’t factored in that torrential rain would cause a mudslide revealing the grave he’d dug. He hasn’t been in Montana long enough to experience one before.

The two of you disappear the next day over the border. It won’t take long for the police to realise what happened, he’d cleaned up well enough but his years of law enforcement have taught him there’s always a trace.

He marries you that afternoon because despite what happened he loves you, he’ll always love you and he needs you to know that. When he returns to Montana the next day it’s to two detectives waiting on his front porch.

“Do you know where she is?” They ask him and he shakes his head, recalling the words he’s said to you that morning.

“Don’t tell me where you going.” He’d whispered against your lips as he’d cradled your face between his hands. “Just let me know when you get there.”

When they leave he spends the evening putting the pieces of his life back together, waiting for that text from you.

Love Terry Bruno? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

@kmc1989 @beardedbarba @justreblogginfics @anime-weeb-4-life @witches-unruly-heart @spaghettificationandpretzels @kishie8 @whateversomethingbruh @trublu2u @silversprings-mp3 @kabloswrld @topmagtiger

#terry bruno #cowboy!terry #terry bruno x reader #terry bruno x you #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order: special victims unit

[passthe5sauceplease]

allergies.

so I wrote a little thing that felt too small to post to ao3 so I'm posting it here🤷‍♂️

it's basically how Bobby found out about buck's naproxen allergy (inspired by me rewatching the coma episode)

ty to @sofiareidings for being my beta reader🙏

word count 0.7k

Buck walked into work Thursday morning with a raging headache. Eddie was practically begging him to stay home that morning but according to Buck he'd just take a painkiller from Hen.

The two made it upstairs in their uniforms, Buck dropping onto the couch with a groan while Hen watched with furrowed brows before turning to Eddie, asking without words.

"He's got a headache," Eddie sighed as he poured himself some coffee. "said he was just gonna ask you for painkillers since you have uh medical profession or something." Eddie shrugged and sipped his drink while Hen rolled her eyes and stood up.

She went down to the locker room, digging through her bag and looking at the bag she kept in there full of painkillers and other non-emergency medical supplies.

She found some naproxen and took a couple pills out, getting upstairs to see the disgustingly cute scene of Eddie feeding Buck toast because according to Chim, Buck was dead. She sighed at the sight of Buck being so dramatic, and Eddie simply indulging him.

Hen walked up, handing Eddie the pills along with a water bottle she had grabbed from the kitchen. It was then that Eddie made Buck sit up, dropping the pills in his hand before opening the bottle of water. He handed it to Buck after the pills were in his mouth, and watched him swallow.

They all separated after that, Hen saying he should be good in half-an-hour. Eddie was about to sit next to Buck until he noticed his boyfriend suddenly struggling to breath. Buck's hand went up, grabbing at his throat while coughing and wheezing. He was taking the smallest breaths until eventually it just stopped.

Buck fully couldn't breath and fell back against the couch after a sudden rush of dizziness that came over him. Hen rushed over while Chim went down to grab a medical bag. Hen was looking over Buck while Eddie stood close, gripping Buck's hand.

Which, he noticed, was covered in a red rash and some form of hives.

"Constructed airway, throats swelling up-" Hen had started while Eddie cut her off, "Rashes on his hands too" he pointed out to her, showing his hand. "I-I mean it looks like…" She trailed off, checking over a few more things before shouting. "Chimney, grab me an epi pen!"

It clicked for Eddie then, anaphylactic shock. Buck was having an allergic reaction to something. Not toast, he's eaten that countless times. Coffee? He drinks it every morning. Was this the same reason he had a headache? Eddie's head was spiraling so he couldn't figure it out.

It was then that Bobby came out, pulling Eddie aside while Chimney brought up the epi pen to hand off to Hen. By this point Hen had Buck's pant leg ripped open to expose his thigh before she took the needle itself, sticking it into Buck and holding it for a moment.

"What did he eat yesterday and today?" Bobby was asking Eddie, sending him into thought. Buck had cereal yesterday, the same he always had. Then they got street tacos from the same truck they always get them from. For dinner, Buck cooked lasagna. Then the toast and coffee this morning. He said this all to Bobby who looked just as clueless as Eddie in this situation before he realized something.

"Any medicine that he's taken? Medication allergies are hard to spot sometimes."

Of course. Buck took naproxen, which he hadn't before. All Eddie's ever seen him take was Advil and Tylenol, nothing different until today.

He looked over as Buck gasped and quickly sat up, Hen rubbing over his chest with Chim handing him water. He looked up to Eddie, clearly confused, tearing eyes from everything before Bobby patted Eddie on the back.

"Why don't you two go to the hospital? get buck checked out to be sure it naproxen." he raised his eyebrows at eddie and looked between the two.

_________________

At the hospital, once Buck was through triage and in the hospital room itself the doctors ran some tests, gave Buck fluids and lots of water all while Buck refused food out of fear. He wasn't allergic to anything before, so what could he be allergic to now?

It took the whole night but by around 7am the doctor finally came in and told Eddie that Buck would be fine, that it was in fact the naproxen and that he should carry an epi pen around just to be safe.

So that same day, Buck was discharged and returned to work the following week with an updated health record for Bobby to store in his file.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #eddie and buck #buddie 911 #evan buck buckely #911 abc #evan buckley angst #fic #bobby nash #henrietta wilson #howard han #bucks allergic to naproxen #set around season 3 #probably #first tumblr fic

[sunshinediaz]

wip wednesday (on a thursday!)

forgot i can literally do whatever i want so here's a snippet from a long way from your heart which is not published but, uh, soon?

Chim hums, contemplative and quiet, and drinks more of his champagne. Eddie leaves him to it and continues to watch Buck as he makes an absolute fool of himself, attempting to swing Athena and Chris and Maddie all around in a messy circle.  It’s endearing, terribly so. Eddie’s heart warms, and beats and beats, and swells, encompassing his whole chest till there’s no room left for anything else. He’s been in love before—once, with Shannon—and it was all-consuming and mind-numbing, rich and decadent and intense in the way it ate the both of them up, but it’s different this time. Calmer, safer, secure and lingering like fingers of sunshine through wide-open windows.  They were fire, both he and Shannon. They raged and smoldered until they burned one another up, taking from each other but never giving in return. It’s part of the reason why Eddie felt the need to enlist the second time, part of the reason why Shannon left when Eddie was home for good and never returned even after things with her mother were settled.  Everything Eddie loves about the world, Shannon loved, too. They were the same in the way you’re only the same with few people in this life—the way you don’t have to finish your thought because you know they’re already thinking it, as well. Thick as thieves and the best of friends, but not the greatest teammates.  He loved Shannon, and he always will, but it hurt. In the end, when he was burned and she was charred, both beyond recognition and so far away from the kids they were when they fell in love, and neither one of them could help the other, it hurt. He grieved her before she died, and long after she passed, too, because he was never able to cool her fire.  He’s sure she felt the same way and realized it before he did, especially when Frank had him work through their conversation at the restaurant when she asked for a divorce. He sobbed, ugly and messy and red-faced in his kitchen while Chris was at school, and laughed so hard his stomach hurt after. She was always quicker on the uptake than him.  When he thinks of her now, he doesn’t hurt. His memories are fond and bittersweet, yellow at the corners like a faded photograph, and he shares as much as he can with his son. He can’t quite remember the shade of her eyes anymore, but Chris has her lopsided grin and sometimes his skin still tingles when he remembers her, a physical reminder of her burning love.  Buck isn’t fire. He’s water—he’s floods of crooked smiles, rushes of caresses on sore muscles, flows of laughter even when Eddie’s not being very funny at all. He’s warm showers after a bad day and thick blankets in the morning when the sun’s shining through the curtains and listening to the rain fall outside during the night. He’s calm. He’s peace and he’s trust and he’s faith. He’s shitty attitudes and bad times and tears and cold feet on Eddie’s back in the middle of the night just because he can. He’s acceptance and stability and promise and magical and a brightness so vivid, so blinding it lights up Eddie’s entire world, and he doesn’t burn. He doesn’t hurt.   Loving Buck is so easy because it doesn’t hurt. 

something something i like to explore the particular brand of queerness i've slapped on eddie by delving into the complexity of his emotions for his wife and the simplicity of his emotions for buck because nothing is strict black and white and eddie's working it out in his brain, okayyy??

anyway <3

#wip wednesday #it's not wednesday but that's what i'm tagging it as #buddie #buddie fic

[chiisana-sukima]

Happy Wincest Wednesday!

What's one headcanon (cute, sexy, or otherwise) you have about the brothers and the Impala? Time spent in or on it, or things they've done in it, Sam indulging Dean somehow with it, or (etc)?

Happy Wincest Wednesday-Thursday, Phyn! Thank you so much for the ask. <3

I have so many headcanons about Sam, Dean and the Impala. The main one is that they're both very weirdcesty about it. They don't have a sexual relationship with--or even sexual thoughts about--each other. Obviously! That would be sick and bad, and especially in Dean's case, outright wrong. It would be the polar opposite of protecting and looking out for Sam, so clearly he would *never*.

...But it's hardly Dean's fault, or Sam's, that they've both banged chicks in Baby's back seat. That's just a natural outcome of the Impala being, for all those years, their only real home. And it's hardly his fault he's proud that Sam can pull such gorgeous babes, and that maybe when Sam was in high school and first started dating, Dean helped him out a bit by handing over the keys and telling him the best make out spots and giving him advice on what songs got which kinds of girls in the mood, and maybe even making sure he knew there were always extra condoms in the glove compartment (and although Dean *certainly* never looked in the glove box the next morning to see if Sam had gotten lucky, it's not his fault he has to replenish the supply so he does kinda keep track.) If he sometimes fantasizes just a little about some of Sam's chicks later himself when he's banging one out in the shower--about what they were like for Sam, maybe sweet and faux demure, laying on the worn back seat with their clothes still on but the door open to give Sam room to get his head up under their skirt, or maybe shameless and wild, going down on Sam at the drive in, with Sam still in the driver's seat and the soundtrack to whatever movie of the week was drowning out his cut off moans--well, if he thinks about those things on occasion, that's just because he's a red-blooded American man, and Sam has excellent taste in women.

Usually.

Sam usually has excellent taste in women.

There was the Ruby thing, of course. He knows--knows for certain, though he could never prove it--that when Sam would pocket Baby's keys and sneak out to get his fix while Dean seethed and pretended to sleep, that sometimes he and that demon bitch would bang right there in the Impala's back seat. Baby would stink of sulfur the next day, and Dean would hardly be able to contain his rage. But what was he supposed to say? "Alastair warned me you weren't the pure little Sammy I imagined and you'd get with any demon whore who'd give you what you wanted, so why didn't I come down off the rack and it could be me instead"? Obviously he couldn't say that. He only even thought it sometimes because Hell had fucked him up so bad.

And there was Rachel Nave. That one Dean had assumed was on him--so much so he'd still felt guilty years later and a djinn had made it the reason dream-him and dream-Sam were estranged. But okay, while he shouldn't have stolen Sam's prom date and definitely shouldn't have given in when she insisted she blow him parked behind the school only three days after said prom, it had all worked out fine. Yeah, Sam had been angry one of Rachel's friends saw the whole damn thing, but far from pulling him and Dean apart like maybe it should have, Sam had demanded Dean drive him to school the next day and pull Baby right up front; had paraded Dean around on his arm like--well. Like *Dean* was the prize in the exchange and there was no denying Sam won.

Anyway, that's all in the past now. These days, things between him and Sam are easy. Now when he gets an eyeful of a gorgeous naked babe like that Piper chick in Baby's back seat with Sam, it's just par for the course. She's hot, Sam's, you know, objectively hot too (what're you gonna do, Dean certainly can't help that). So whatever it's all about, maybe it's not exactly normal, and maybe Sam and him are both a little fucked up, but the world has bigger problems. It's only worth dwelling on in a good way.

#wincest wednesday #somehow i got stuck in dean's POV #so i couldnt add in some relevant headcanons that only Sam would know #but Rachel of course was possessed #so when Sam went to give himself to Lucifer at the end of S5 and found out about Rachel #he also found out Dean had banged a demon in the same back seat Sam banged Ruby in #i want Dean to have found out too so he can feel deliciously guilty about being mad at Sam for doing something he unknowingly did as well #but sam would never bring it up so i cant quite fit it into the spn in my head #also though! #sam would definitely be jealous about dean boning anna down in the impala that one time #but would be unable to admit to himself exactly why #anna was so pure and radiated innocence #all the things that sam has never been and can never have #and there dean was just... being handed it all on an angelic silver platter #it would never occur to sam that if ruby reminds him of dean #(and she most certainly does!) #then anna may have reminded dean of sam #but somewhere inside him sam does suspect it's true #and maybe dean's mistaken about any similarities but it still gives sam some comfort #makes him feel warm and loved #and a little less irreparably corrupt

[thejuvpiter]

Red and Gold

Angrily Regulus made his way through the cold and stony halls of Hogwarts, his now red and gold hair bouncing with every step. He tried to ignore the laughter and looks from the portraits as he walked down the last set of steps. In his rage, he took the wrong route and ended up on the wrong moving staircase. 

‘’Boletus Luteus’’ He spat at the Fat Lady once he reached her. She scowled in response before revealing the wicket to the common room. Upon entering Regulus flipped up the hood of his cloak to hide the monstrosity forming on his head. The prank was probably not to be discovered until morning time when everybody got up, but being up at 3 am in the prefects' bathroom led him to discover it in real-time. 

Inside he was greeted by a warm and homey feeling and the obvious smell of weed. The space was completely red and gold, even more than usual after Gryffindor’s last quidditch win. Flags with lion imagery reached from one end of the room to the other. Regulus sometimes envied the cosiness of this common room compared to the stern one he called home.

In the comfortable-looking couches sat a few girls and 3 out of 4 Marauders, under who the other Black brother. They were passing around a joint and didn’t notice the lone Slytherin standing in the passage. Only one turned his head. 

Sirius seemed to know why his younger brother was intruding and with a chuckle signalled his head up to the dorms. Completely disregarding him after. His legs were sprawled out in one of his friend’s laps who didn’t seem to mind and rested his book on top of them.

Once he reached the top of the steps Regulus took no time to ground himself as he started pounding at the dormitory door. He didn’t stop until his fists almost made contact with James’ glasses. He hadn’t heard the lock twisting. ‘’Hello to you too,’’ his raspy voice said.

The state of James’ hair, his voice, and the lack of a shirt hinted he had just woken up. Probably not fancying to be worn out at early quidditch practice. ‘’What brings you to my dorm at 3 in the morning on a Thursday?’’  He smirked. Regulus pushed past the taller one and into the room, gesturing for him to close the door. 

‘’Like you don’t know!’’ He scoffed while he removed his hood. The wet curls fell in front of his eyes, but he didn’t bother to remove them. James burst out laughing, clutching his stomach and letting himself fall against the door. ‘’Please just tell me how to remove the colour.’’ 

‘’I didn’t do it!’’ He laughed, moving to wipe the tears from under his glasses.

‘’Then why are you laughing?!’’ Regulus sat down on James’s bed, crossing his arms.

‘’Because whoever did is a fucking genius!’’ James moved to sit next to him and wiped the hair from Regulus’s face. ‘’Are all the Slytherins like— this?’’ He regarded the entirety of the disaster and couldn’t hide his excitement. 

‘’Stop enjoying this!’’ Regulus hid his reddening face in the crook of James’s neck. ‘’I look ridiculous!’’ It only made the older one chuckle more. 

‘’I think these colours do quite fit you, Reg.’’

#jegulus #james x regulus #james potter #regulus black #marauders #starchaser #one shot #jegulus fluff

[sususzasza]

The Dreaded Evil Lantern

Title: The Dreaded Evil Lantern Pairing: Aziraphale x Crowley Genre: fluff, fantasy, angel x demon, romantic Word Count: 4 385 Summary: Aziraphale finds a strange lantern on a shelf in his bookstore. The lantern is a work of Hell that imprisons the person who touches it. There is only one way for Aziraphale to escape. Is he ready to face his personal hell?

It happened on a normal, boring Friday morning. It could have happened on Thursday afternoon, however, Aziraphale forgot to dust the bookshelves that day. The angel deviated from his routine because of a certain biscuit plate he received as a gift. This is the reason why that particular incident happened on Friday morning.

Humming softly, Aziraphale swept away the cloud of dust on the spines of the books. The angel enjoyed dusting the bookstore. He was happily lost in his thoughts as his hands moved nimbly through the old books. Aziraphale is a very talented angel, he pays attention to every detail of his work so he can avoid mistakes that would cause him serious remorse for months. However, on this day he was not careful enough.

The vinyl that was spinning on the player suddenly stopped. Alarmed, Aziraphale raised his head from among the dusty books, knocking some of them off the shelf with that momentum. The angel quickly moved to the record player and anxiously examined the worn vinyl. It happened exactly as he thought. The disc grooves are damaged. The angel sadly studied the worn record in the sunlight filtering in through the window when the door to the bookstore burst open and Crowley slammed in. The demon was in his usual annoyed mood. He tossed the glasses that hid his snake eyes onto a shelf then sank into Aziraphale's antique armchair and huffed wordlessly to himself. Sighing, the angel put down the unusable record and adjusted his vest and turned to Crowley.

- Hello, Crowley! I'm glad you stopped by, can I help you with something?

The angel knew that expression on Crowley's face. The demon nervously drew his eyebrows together, pursed his lips and nervously drummed his fingers on the arm of the armchair. Someone or something made him terribly angry so before he committed horrible crimes to relieve his tension he went to the angel instead.

- Maybe some soothing tea? - Aziraphale offered with a cheerful smile.

The angel no longer took Crowley's annoyed mood seriously. The demon's sudden anger came as easily as it left. With a little distraction he already forgot about his gloomy mood.

- I don't need your useless tea - Crowley growled but immediately felt ashamed.

There have been more transfers and changes in Hell. One of the high-profile demon-scribe dared to ask for an old account that Crowley was sure had been settled and forgotten hundreds of years ago. However, the scribe did not expand and upset Crowley's already volatile state of mind in such a way that he turned him into a centipede without thinking.

So Crowley didn't start his Friday well. In addition, on the way to Aziraphale's bookstore he also remembered the faint memory that he had seemingly thrown the said bill aside centuries ago. Maybe he never closed that case in the end? Did he unnecessarily turn that insignificant scribe into a centipede? Crowley had been raging like this since morning. It wasn't enough that he was upset now he might also be remorseful for the rude way he answered the angel. Crowley doesn't really like to care about other people's feelings. He doesn't care what other man, demon or angel thinks. He owes no one kindness or anything. The world is cruel and Crowley has no desire to change it. However, the demon lived with one very important exception. He was really interested in an angel so he didn't want to hurt him.

Aziraphale pursed his lips in disapproval but did not push the idea of the ​​tea any further. He turned back to his books and looked for the duster.

- I think if you feel like grumbling you can do it alone. However, if you want to talk about what pissed you off so much go ahead, I'll listen!

Crowley heaves a long sigh then pours out a long stream of complaints which the angel listens to patiently as he begins to wipe the shelves from the beginning. When he reached the place of the knocked down books he was greeted by an interesting sight. He frowned at the shabby lantern-looking object. Not only does Aziraphale not remember how this item ended up on the shelf the lantern also radiated evil energy. Definitely a demonic item. Aziraphale didn't think but reached to the lantern's ear to get a closer look at the object but as soon as he touched it, he was inhaled by it.

All Crowley could see was Aziraphale standing at the end of the bookshelf one moment then disappearing the next. The demon almost jumped out of the armchair. He had already forgotten his monologue about the underworld bureaucracy. He strode through the store and then came to a lantern lurking completely innocently on the shelf. He recognized it immediately and slapped his hand on the forehead worriedly.

- Aziraphale, I say to Satan’s name, how can I get you out of there? - the demon hissed between his teeth.

Crowley considered two possibilities. One is that Aziraphale, gathering all his miracles, confronts the power of the lantern and breaks out of its captivity, alone. Crowley found the first option problematic because he himself did not know the lantern's true power and what it could do to demonstrate its power over the captured being. The second possibility is that the demon goes after Aziraphale. The second possibility is also really worrying. What guarantees that Crowley will end up in the same place as the angel? What if only one of them is strong enough to break the spell? What happens when they are stuck inside the lantern's prison for their eternal existence?

Crowley's annoyed mood returned but he was forced to act as soon as possible as he didn't like the angel being possessed by such a powerful spell. He stared accusingly at the lantern on the shelf with narrowed snake eyes. If he had kept a closer eye on the angel and not buried himself in his own annoyance he could have prevented the trouble. But it's too late. Now he will have to save Aziraphale. He came to a decision then firmly raised his hand to the lantern and after a few moments of hesitation touched it. He was immediately drawn to the shabby object. Crowley spun around in the vacuum that just pulled him into it. Sometimes he spun in pitch darkness, sometimes he spun in blinding light then in the blink of an eye he fell face down on the ground. The force of the fell made him dizzy but finally he shook his aching head and looked up. He felt as if he had shrunk as small as an ant and entered the inside of the lantern. It was dim and surrounded by cold clay walls. Would that be it? Is this all the dreaded lamprey has in store which reputation holds all of Hell in fear?

- Crowley! - came a certain voice from behind.

Aziraphale helped him off the ground and dusted a little off the shoulders of his dark jacket.

- What are you doing here? The lantern emits a clear evil force! Didn't you notice? What kind of sane demon voluntarily enters here? Don't say you don't know this object because it is clearly the work of Hell!

Crowley whirled around in a daze. He didn't think he could detect any ominous signs. However, the thought that what greeted him in the lantern was only the calm before the storm did not let him rest. He grabbed Aziraphale's arm and pulled him closer.

- Stay close, you have no idea what we're up against! - Crowley growled as he ran his eyes around the inner wall of the lantern.

- So you really know what happened! What's all this? - the angel asked as he dutifully ducked into Crowley's shadow.

As is well known, Aziraphale is indeed a high-ranking, powerful angel whose miracles are almost guaranteed to be fulfilled. However, it is also a known fact that the angel was happy to let Crowley protect him. Of course it wasn't because he thought the demon was expendable, no way! Aziraphale liked to think that it gave Crowley pleasure to protect his friend. Due to the nature of the demon he liked to be the master of event, and as a result he believed that he could protect Aziraphale as well. He didn't constantly come to his defense because he thought he was weak, no way! All he knew was that his instincts led him to the angel's side in any sinister event and he felt an inner urge to protect him to the end.

- Maybe you could provide some explanation? - Aziraphale insisted.

- This lantern is a very famous craft, a demonic object that serves as a prison. It was created to enslave the most ferocious demons. The interior of the lantern completely neutralizes all kinds of miracles. There is only one way to get out.

- Namely? - interrupted the angel with eyes shining with hope.

- I'm sorry to say that I don't know how.

- You don't know the way - muttered Aziraphale brokenly. - What do you mean?

- Just as I said.

Aziraphale was speechless in his amazement. What a folly he committed when he carelessly grabbed the demonic lantern and even Crowley fell victim to his carelessness. A look of horrible shame and worry crossed Aziraphale’s face that Crowley couldn't bear so he tried to gather more information from his memories about the lantern.

- This place is referred to as a personal hell. I suspect that if this is the case then each prisoner will have to free himself from the lantern curse.

- Crowley… - the angel hesitated. - You shouldn't have come after me. Personal hell doesn't sound too promising. In fact! It sounds hideous! You're a fool to come after me!

- Shh, angel! - hushed Crowley.

It doesn't matter what awaits him here. There was no way he wanted Aziraphale to suffer alone what the lantern had in store for him. Crowley was alert for any attack, not knowing the meaning behing the so called personal hell. However, he was suddenly gripped by a strong burning sensation around his shoulder blade where his wings joined his body. In pain, he fell to the ground and began to scratch the bottom of the lantern with his fingers in agony. He couldn't think of anything else but the feeling of living fire burning his wings and the heat spreading through his body and paralyzing his limbs. He began to gasp desperately but the air did not relieve his pain it only increased it. He could still feel Aziraphale trembling, kneeling beside him and turning him on his side. His gaze locked with Crowley's before the demon passed out. Aziraphale's throat tightened then suddenly a sob-like sound left his body which revealed everything about his hopelessness. He couldn't speak and maybe he didn't want to because he was afraid that all his strength would leave him. Then suddenly he felt it too. The burning sensation in his back, the searing pain in his wings. He crouched on the ground next to Crowley. He thought that if he was taken by death now at least Crowley wouldn't be able to see it.

~~~

Crowley woke up in Heaven. The sterile white walls and furniture revealed where he had been. Groaning, the demon sat up. He no longer felt pain but he immediately noticed that Aziraphale was not with him and that he could hear angels chatting around a distant table. Footsteps could be heard from the other end of the hall. A tall angel strode across the snow-white floor, oblivious to Crowley. When she reached the table of the angels she announced aloud that the traitor had been found.

- Bring him here! - Michael's unforgiving voice was heard.

The angels did not notice Crowley. The demon thought that by some miracle he was not perceived. It's like he's not even there. After a few moments an army of angels appeared dragging Aziraphale in front of the archangels. Crowley watched in astonishment as his best friend was brought in as a traitor. Michael measured Aziraphale cruelly then issued the punishment:

- His existence must be erased. A traitor deserves no mercy. The enormity of his sin, however, demands that, in addition to being obliterated he must suffer such in amount that it will accompany him into non-existence.

Crowley saw Aziraphale shake and turn pale then be led astray by the angels and bright handcuffs placed on his wrists.

- Michael, I haven't committed any sin - the angel pleads brokenly but the archangels ignore Aziraphale.

Crowley trembles with rage. How dare they treat his friend like this? Aziraphale doesn't deserve this. Angels surround the figure of Aziraphale. Two of the angels force him to his knees. At Michael’s command, Aziraphale's wings appeared and two other angels fought him and began to tear them off. The scene was cruel and bloody. Crowley couldn't contain his emotions. He jumped up from the floor and ran to the cruel angels who were torturing Aziraphale. Crowley shouted at the top of his voice. After being ignored he tried to throw himself at the angels but his body proved malleable as he fell through the tormentors. He then tried to perform a miracle to end the cruel scene. Nothing used. He heard nothing but Aziraphale's pained voice, saw nothing but the blood and tears of the angel. The demon felt his own blood boil with rage and pain. He was helpless and condemned to watch it all. He suddenly didn't know which one of them being hurt more. Is Aziraphale or Crowley the greater victim? He was unable to intervene. Crowley began to feel dizzy his eyes throbbed from the sight, his heart raced, the air was drained from his lungs and then all his senses turned off at Aziraphale's scream. His body fails him and he falls back into deep sleep.

When he regained consciousness he found himself on the carpet of Aziraphale's bookstore. The sound of an argument was heard from the back of the store. He recognized Azirapahale's voice and then his own. So they were fighting. A few moments later Aziraphale stormed into the foreground. His face was contorted with rage, his skin glowed red with anger and he was almost panting in the heat of the fight. Crowley arrived soon after. The demon saw himself from the outside. He seemed evil, unlovable, unforgiving.

- Get out of here! - the angel scolded him. - I can't even see you!

Crowley's heart sank in his chest. What did he do anyway? He didn't want Aziraphale to hate him. He couldn't bear it. Crouching on the carpet he gripped his jacket exactly where his heart beat.

- Cover up! And never come back! I will never forgive you!

Crowley could hear Aziraphale yelling to his fever dream self. His heart no longer dared to beat excitedly. The air around him froze. What will happen to him without Aziraphale? He can't live without him. And then behind the haze of gnawing despair he suddenly realized. That was what he feared the most. His greatest fear is losing his angel. Aziraphale, who is almost the condition of his existence with whom they have worked together for more than six thousand years, with whom he shared his joy and sorrow, who shared the same with him.

The realization settled on his shoulders with great force but the dream image dissipated and he woke up again between the clay walls of the lantern. His body lay exhausted on the cool ground. Barely an arm's length away lay Aziraphale. His face and whole body were pressed against the floor. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his face sometimes twitched into a painful grimace. He had a restless dream. Crowley crept closer to the angel. He pressed his forehead to Aziraphale's then concentrated hard and tried to enter the angel's dream.

Many angels and demons consider it dishonorable to dwell on other people's thoughts. The angels simply referred to it as an immoral act, however, in the demon world mind reading could easily serve as the basis for selective torture. Crowley didn't want to come across a thought that didn't belong to him and he just focused on getting into Aziraphale's current dream. He searched and avoided the angel's tangled thoughts for a long time before he found what he was looking for.

~~~

Aziraphale woke up on wet concrete. The embarrassing rain fell on his forehead but did not soak him. The rain fell on him and it didn't. He realized that something like this could happen to his being both present and not in this world. But what is this world he has fallen into? Or is he just dreaming? The angel slowly got up from the wet concrete and looked around. He found himself in a small street. He saw a bakery on the right side of the road. And through the raindrop-soaked glass door he saw himself. That is a very similar version of himself. He was, but he wasn't. He wore a simple denim jacket with a gray T-shirt along with matching long denim pants and simple sneakers. In addition to his clothes he was shocked by the fact that he had a beard and curly hair. Involuntarily, he touched his shining golden angelic hair. How does this very human version of himself get here? And why does it look like he's waiting for someone?

Aziraphale heard the sound of a motor from the end of the street. He saw a dark figure slowly stop at the service opposite the bakery. Motor service. Interesting. He couldn't imagine how his version of himself could handle working in such a noisy and dirty environment. Then the dark stranger took off his helmet and Aziraphale's heart skipped a beat. He took a few steps back in shock then moved closer to the human version of Crowley again. The man wore leather pants with motorcycle boots accompanied by an embroidered leather jacket with Satan himself roaring on the back. Crowley had shoulder-length dark brown hair, stubble covering his face, and he also wore a black sunglasses. Aziraphalet was suddenly drenched in sweat. He had expected everything except that he would dream of Crowley like this. He watched the man-demon mesmerized he was curious about every detail from this version of Crowley but he startled himself. The man in the denim jacket ran out of the bakery and stopped next to Crowley's motorcycle. He looked at the leather clad Crowley with a confused smile and an awkward silence settled between them as he looked back at him but said nothing. Crowley was apparently reluctant to talk to him. Aziraphale's face flushed and he felt ashamed even for himself. Why not leave Crowley alone?

-       Hello - said the curly haired Aziraphale awkwardly.

Crowley looked at him but also ignored him. The angel put his hand over his mouth in shock. Somehow he wasn't surprised by Crowley's harsh style. However, it seemed that they were not even friends with the demon in this world. The human Crowley slapped his helmet under his arm and began to walk into the service but Aziraphale grabbed his arm and stopped him.

- I made a mistake - he finally said.

Crowley didn't answer just looked at the downed curly head and the hand gripping his arm.

- You were right - Aziraphale in jeans swallowed. - I should have trusted you.

Crowley yanked his hand away and went around his bike to separate him from Aziraphale. He smiled bitterly and said only this:

- But you didn't trust me.

The angel saw the human self wince at Crowley's words. Whatever he did he deeply regretted it. He had made a big mistake and now he was afraid of losing Crowley.

- It's… I… Crowley…- the human Aziraphale hesitated just as the angel would. - Look at me! Don't you see?

Aziraphale did not understand what was happening and had no idea what exactly he was witnessing. His gaze darted between himself and Crowley but the latter looked at him with a completely expressionless face.

- Can't you see how scared I am? - pleaded the now drenched curly haired Aziraphale. - I never had anyone. I could only trust Maggie until now. I've known Maggie since college, you and Crowley... Three crazy long months. I'm afraid to let someone get so close to me in such a short time. Do you understand what I'm saying?

Crowley was silent for a long time then spoke softly:

- What are you afraid of anyway?

Aziraphale sighed in delight that Crowley was even continuing the conversation with him.

- I think I like your company Crowley.

- This is not an answer to the question.

Silence again and only the sound of the rain roared in the angel's ears. What was he afraid of? And the angel knew the answer.

The Aziraphale in denim ran his hands through his hair and smoothed the wet curls back. He pursed his lips and opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. The angel blew impatiently then shouted to himself even though he knew he couldn't hear:

- Pull yourself together and finally say it! Say it, you idiot!

He shuddered under his soaked clothes. Maybe it was just the cold raindrops or the angelic inspiration but he seemed to be pulling his coat tighter. He let out a breath then looked determinedly into Crowley's eyes.

- I'm afraid that I'll lose you after I let you in. I'm afraid of the pain of losing you. I'm afraid of what it means to be afraid of these things… - Aziraphale's lips trembled but his voice remained strong. - I think I'm most afraid of admitting to you that I love you and you don't love me back.

Aziraphale was astonished by his own courage. The spoken words hit him in the chest and he staggered back from the force of recognition and fell to the ground. He was shivering all over but he couldn't blame on the cold rain. His vision was hazy from the scene before his eyes and he blinked widely to hold back his tears.

- That's the answer – muttered the demon Crowley right next to him.

The angel turned in surprise in the direction of the voice. The demon crouched next to him and looked at their human version with snake eyes. He smiled faintly.

- You... This now... Did you watch this all the way through? - stammered Aziraphale but he didn't dare raise his eyes to Crowley, he just stared ahead.

- I also had to face what I fear the most. The power of the Hell Lantern lies in recognizing your greatest fear and turning it against you. The lantern is a prison that uses your mind to live in your own fear until you face it.

- Crowley... - the angel looks straight ahead but is driven by curiosity. - What is your greatest fear?

Crowley points to himself behind the motorcycle. The man has already taken off his glasses and a mixture of terror and hope can be read from his eyes.

- Look at that fool - he said with a bitter laugh. - He waits in silence and hopes and makes a fool of himself and is afraid that he is doing it all in vain. He is terrified of losing the drenched angel standing in front of him.

Aziraphale did not move. His body was paralyzed by what he heard but his thoughts were chaotic. And he couldn't take it anymore a stray tear rolled down his face.

- I don't know what to do - he confessed in a whisper.

- It's simple - the demon replied. - I'll tell you the steps. Gather your courage. Look at me. And say what you've said before.

The angel took a big swallow. Six thousand years of friendship is not so easy to throw away. However, the lantern saw clearly what his weak point was and he had to face it or he would be stuck here forever. The moment has come for him to speak the truth that his heart hides.

- I shouldn't have started dusting today - Aziraphale moans desperately but looked up at Crowley. - Crowley, you're my best friend.

The demon didn't interrupt him his penetrating yellow eyes searched the angel’s and waited patiently for him to say what he wanted to hear for so long.

- I would like you to never forget how grateful I am for your friendship, but I think...I think it’s not enough anymore. I'm still afraid to admit that I love you. Perhaps for centuries. I don't even know the time anymore. Forgive me if I say something that offends you, but…

Crowley's lips pressed against the angel's. And Aziraphale's heart almost left his body in excitement. The angel wasn't nervous no, he didn't have to keep the secret any longer and he didn't have to fear being found out anymore. He slowly surrendered her entire being to the kiss and closed his eyes to enjoy Crowley's closeness. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in the bookstore in front of the shelf. Crowley stood beside him and sent the lantern back to Hell with a flick.

- Devilish invention - he grumbled but Aziraphale looked at his face with a softened expression and curled his arm around the demon’s.

- I think we could use a lunch - suggested the angel with raised eyebrows.

Crowley nodded but scratched his chin and asked the angel:

- Then can we take this as a date?

Aziraphale laughed.

- Imagine that an angel in love and supposedly a demon in love go to lunch together.

Crowley put on his glasses.

- That clearly seems like a date to me - agreed Crowley then added as they walked out the door: - The demon is not only supposedly but irrevocably in love.

Aziraphale's smile never left his face that day.

#good omens #crowly x aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #crowley x aziraphale fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fantasy #angel x demon #fluff

[kuumara]

You're my favorite (pt1-pt2-pt3)

Will woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. It's always like this- the night before he feels as if Mike could feel the same, with his soft voice and gentle touch, and then the next morning he's gone. Sure, it's Thursday right now but this happens every time. During holidays, at the weekends, when he takes a nap in the afternoon... Always. 

Will isn't blaming Mike, nor is he mad at him. He's mad at himself, if anyone- he makes himself believe he has a chance, and gets his hopes up. And then he doesn't have a chance. Regardless of how many times he's told himself to be smarter next time, Mike always finds a new way to make him think he likes him like that. 

With a sigh, Will gets up from bed and silences the blaring alarm clock. He changes to cleaner clothes and gets his bag, going to the kitchen to get some of his favorite breakfast. Maybe this day can still be good.

When he gets to school, it's a normal day. He talks to Lucy and Lucas during math class, slacks off during P.E. with Max, and during lunch- observes a guy flirting with Mike. Mike likes the flirting. Will doesn't. He's being a smiling idiot, blushing and averting his gaze. Who even is this dude? 

The dude comes closer to Mike. 

Mike laughs. 

The dude smiles brightly, and Mike blushes. 

The dude leans closer, and whispers something.

Mike giggles and blushes even more.

Will is coming up with a murder plan.

Wait. 

Does Mike like guys?

Will forgets everything he's seeing, all the jealousy he's feeling.

He has a chance?

But does he, really?

Knowing that Mike- likes guys flirting with him, Will rethinks every recent interaction he's had with Mike. Soft touches? Low voices? Cuddling??? 

And now, knowing that Mike might like guys, Will gets jealous again. He will give his best to Mike, knowing all that. He's already coming up with a plan. First, hanging out with Mike outside. A lot of romantic stuff outside. Second, knowing as much as he can about subjects Mike isn't good at so he can teach him-

"Wii-iiill..." El smacks his shoulder, making him jump. He scowls at her. He can't let anyone interrupt him, his train of thought is just gaining steam-

"Who is that guy?" She asks him, and gestures towards Mike and that guy. 

Will's face twitches from rage at the sight of them, but does his best to make his expression uncaring. He shrugs and goes back to eating his pasta.

"He better not do anything douche-y to Mike." She says in her monotone voice. Will snorts- she's learned a lot of... words from Max. 

"What? He looks like a douche." He really does. In his polished-clean sneakers, the Hawkins' High School jacket and shiny hair. It looks like hair from a lego man.

Will is concerned now, looking down at his plate- what if that guy does do something douche-y? Will would kill him if he did. Mike wasn't made fun of for looking like he does, he wasn't called gay, Will was. But all that can change. Maybe the guy thinks his clothes are too edgy. Too not normal. In other words, gay. Maybe he thinks his hair is weird. Since it's not a lego man's hairpiece. In other words- gay.

Mike sits across from him and El, that breaks him out of thought. It's just them eating together today. And Mike is smiling brightly.

"Hey, guys," he says shyly. El greets him cheerfully, and Will just stares at him and nods. He still has some blush on him; it's pretty. Mike catches his eye.

"Who was that?" El asks all of a sudden. 

Mike sputters for a second or two. "He's- he's Lucas's teammate," he clears his throat. "We were just talking. Uhm, we met at the game they had last month- Lucas introduced us,"

Will kept staring at him, observing his blush getting deeper and deeper. Despite the pretty sight, his heart was beating furiously and his thoughts were violent.

Alright. He's overreacting. Mike is obviously happy- and Will wants him to be happy. All of the physical contact? Mike's just a very nice, caring friend. 

Why doesn't he hug Dustin, or Lucas the way he hugs you, then?

Because Will has been possessed. That leaves trauma- Mike wants to help Will- easy.

Will's doubt wins again. He wishes he would go back to his 12-year-old self, fully believing Mike loved him the way Will loved Mike. But he's not delusional, he won't get his hopes up. Not like when he was 12, he just has to remember Mike is a good friend whenever he gets a thought. 

Mike breaks him out of his thinking, nudging him with his foot under the table, eyes looking back at him the whole time. 

"You alright? Will?" He says with that gentle voice of his. Will nods, trying to seem as normal as possible.

"Hey, uhh. Can I come over, today? Sorry, I know I've already visited yesterday-"

"Sure." He was looking at Will while asking, but El responded instead. Good, Will's voice would for sure crack and reveal how he was feeling about the recent events. Mike looked at him again, so Will nodded enthusiastically- although unintentionally. See, this is what happens.

Mike smiled brightly, and after they ate and discussed El's annoying teacher, they parted their ways, unfortunately. 

On the bright side, Will had some alone time to think about the new found Mike information, and hopefully he would be normal about it until meeting Mike after school. Hopefully.

#my ficlet🐶 #byler #byler fluff #byler fanfic

[neverendingparable]

"Stellan."

Stellan looks up from the morning cup of coffee he's having in Morayne's Lounge to see Maso, more furious than Stel has ever seen him before. He looks like he can barely control himself, fists balled until the knuckles turned white. He's not angry at Stellan, that's as much as he could tell but whatever pissed him off must have been severe.

"Maso," He starts carefully, placing his cup aside. "Calm down, okay? What happened-"

"Thursday."

"What?"

Maso can barely get a full sentence out.

"Rex." He spits the name out, as if it was something rotten on his tongue.

"Rex hurt Thursday?" Stellan frowns. "That's...okay. Okay, we'll deal with it-"

"When? When does anyone around here do anything? Why has it been an entire fucking year and Rex is still around, still hurting my friends? Are you going to do something? Is Neil? Tell me what the fuck you are waiting around for!"

"Calm down!" He raises his voice over Maso's angry shouting, hoping to regain control of the situation. He's not afraid of Maso, but seeing the other so angry makes him wary of what might come next. The last thing they need is an Office wide bloodbath birthed out of revenge. "Listen, we can figure out something. Just...come. Sit down and tell me what happened. Whatever it is, Rex won't get away with it, okay? I promise."

"I'll kill him, Stellan. I'm going to kill him with my bare hands." They were beyond soothing voices at this point. "I'll make whatever Alice did to him look like child's play."

"Maso-"

The ex-fusion turns away from him quickly, teeth gritted, but Stellan sees it anyway. The beginning of tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. This isn't just about Rex - it's just the final straw that broke the camel's back. He's not going to be able to talk Maso out of anything, not this time.

Stellan runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"Okay." He says softly. "Tell me what you need from me. Do you want me to call Neil? Molly? She's been waiting for a moment to run Rex through with her sword, I see no reason to hold her off now. I can also-"

"Get Icarus for me."

"I- what?"

"I want Icarus."

"...fine. I don't know if he'll show up for Rex but I'll call him." 

It's about time Icarus got back into the habit of fixing Office problems, now that he's back. Stellan thinks as he gets up to join Maso in the middle of the Lounge. He placed a hand on the other's shoulder, giving him a gentle, comforting smile.

Maso relaxes a little once he sees Stel believes him and isn't going to fight him on this. But no amount of comfort is going to stop him from feeling deep, unbridled rage. 

It doesn't matter if it's Rex or Vir, they're all the same to Maso. He's going to make them regret ever fucking with his friend.

#drabble #the masochist #the real stanley #standard verse

[swanofsnow]

The evening talk, and turned into morning. Lena had dozens of questions for her mother, but was shocked, and filled with shame learning of her mother secret, and lie.

“ I had to depart from Doar, and say goodbye to my friends. I said farewell to the guards, one particular was your aunt Deirdre. She and I, we’re close and I told her if she was ever to need anything to look me up. A few days later a carriage was sent for me, and I returned to Snow Mystic. I’m not sure if it was the stress or the heart ache, but my brother Andrew was sick and in deep pain. His wife, had died, and their son was still away at school. The day I arrived I was introduced to a man named John Arkov, he was the commander of the fleet. He was also, going to be my new husband. He was selected for me, and he was much older than I was. He twenty three.. and was not keen to marry a teenage princess. But he knew this was a command, and that same night we were married and performed a bedding ceremony.”

Lena moved to pour her mother tea “ What’s a bedding ceremony..” she questioned “ and he so was much older than you were, you must have been terrified.” Nichola reached for the cup, holding onto it.

“ He was very handsome, and tall. I was more scared of the ceremony than my new husband. This ceremony involved having several men watch me perform an act with my new husband. So there would be no denial, that Johann was the father of my baby. Atleast that’s what we had hoped for, but your uncle swore he would recover and have his vengeance. He informed the court, I was taken advantage of, and summoned William Duncan to court, and when he arrived William.”

She took a slow breathe “ he didn’t deny it.” She bite her lower lip, watching as Lena paced the room. “ MOTHER! He didn’t deny it? He actually let that reputation and shame happen to his own family, and you let that happen!!”

A single nod was given at first “ He came with a condition, he would be given the chance to help raise the baby. I agreed, and right before Christmas I gave birth to a boy, a beautiful and healthy boy I named Ryan. I was also crowned that same year. Many came to visit the new baby, even one odd fellow. He was a strange man, but he vowed that my son would live a long time on the throne, and he would be handsome and have many suitors. I think now how silly it was, but I was worried how things would turn out for him.”

She sipped her tea “ Some years passed and William like clockwork would arrive on Tuesday, and leave on Thursday to see your brother Ryan. I got pregnant again, I was excited and eager for a new baby. During this time, a young girl would visit the castle, and she reminded me of how I used to travel when I was a young girl, her name was Autumn. I want you to remember that name in my story”

Lena nodded nervously, and asked her to continue. “ I was six or seven weeks.. when I caught John with another woman, it was Ryan 3rd birthday, and the entire court caught him with me. I was in a rush, running away from him, when I fell down the stairs, and I lost my child. After that, things were dark between John and me. I was not legally allowed to divorce him, so we had to remain under the same roof and live two different lives. Sometimes he would get so drunk, he would rage into my room and hurt me. Sometimes I would get drunk and hurt him. I had a personal guard assigned to sleep in my room, who trained me to protect myself. I eventually submitted request for further men and woman to come to the castle to help ease my pain, I asked for pirates, sorcerers, guards, many people to keep me distracted. “ Lena would move to raise her hand “ why did you need all of these random people, was it for anything in particular?”

Nichola would nod “ It was for power, and to keep me and my country in it, and to be advanced. But alsoJohn would leave the court, when his mistress gave him a daughter, he would retire to the hills. I became so obsessed with his infidelity, I drank more. my council was concerned about my drinking and asked for me to find a retreat to help recover. I was recommended to travel, and to leave my son behind in the care of his grandfather. they were very excited a boy had been born and they wanted to protect him. While I was gone, I went to different places, places called Paraíso, and Hillside, I even went to a place called Sundara. I.. returned confident and strong. “ she half way smiled “ or atleast I thought I was.. when I returned.. my beautiful little girl Autumn was grown, your aunt Deirdre arrived from Doar and a foreign prince, a very handsome prince looked at me, like I was the most beautiful woman in the world, his name was Uriel.”

Lena watched her mother tell her stories, there was life again in her cheeks, and she hoped she wasn’t using her last energy on this, she hoped by telling these stories she would find the strength to live.

“ Tell me about aunt Dee.. and this handsome prince Uriel.”

#the story continues