#radio fuzz
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heartofmachinaisms · 2 months ago
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I'm starting to think Hero has a bunk bed because she's one of those kids that thought having a bunk bed so they could sleep so high up would be the sickest thing ever
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metalhead-brainrot · 9 months ago
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Radio Brainrot - 2024.10.31
fuzz rock || 2024 || Cologne, DEU || Free download codes
o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::> o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::> o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::>
chillwave || 2024 || FRA
o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::> o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::> o()xxxx[:::::::::::::::::>
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miwtual · 2 months ago
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tagged by @carmybcrzatto <3 thank u eileen ily
prompt: you just got a kind of shitty old car and it doesn't have bluetooth. you can only buy 7 CDs and you can't repeat an artist. what are you getting?
reincarnate by motionless in white
brand new eyes by paramore
hot fuzz by the killers
pioneer by the band perry
fallen by evanescence
collide with the sky by pierce the veil
the great impersonator by halsey
tagging (no pressure, as always <3) @marianasofiaibarra @akkpipitphattana @vinnymauro and anyone else that sees this that would like to participate! feel free to say i tagged u <3
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shamanluna-radio-prog · 1 year ago
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Hymn To Mother Earth
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One of the peace and incredible hippy song
Deep cool hard Smooth like king crimson
Marvelous unknow band
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woodencup · 5 months ago
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originalharmonysalad · 7 months ago
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Fräulein Freakbeat @ Ready, Steady, Stay In! • Christmas Special Edition - 13/12/24
Kissing 2024 goodbye with a rich slab of fuzz, freakbeat and garage action! 💥
Recorded live for "READY, STEADY, STAY IN! • Vol. XLIX • CHRISTMAS SPECIAL EDITION" 13.12.2024 at BILL CARSON's 60's Mod Pirate Radio:   / 238025369679427  
01. Ennio Morricone - Adonai (1967, dub plate)
02. The Pop Tops - What a Place to Live in (Bellaphon, 1972)
03. Soul Inc. - Love Me When I'm Down (Laurie, 1968)
04. The Glass Family - House of Glass (1969, dub plate)
05. Shocking Blue - Long and Lonesome Road (Pink Elephant, 1969)
06. Evil - I'm Moving On (1966 / 2013 reissue)
07. John Woolley and Just Born - You're Lying (Ronnex, 1971)
08. Les Lutins - Je Cherche (Carrousel, 1967)
09. Perkins - C'est Ça Le Monde (Barclay, 1967)
10. Des Bottes Blanches et des Cheveux Roux (AI generated, 2024)
11. The Cherry People - I'm the One Who Loves You (Polydor, 1968)
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rafecameronssl4t · 27 days ago
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season 1 Rafe is so underrated so could u pls do a fic where Rafe has a baby with you and you guys are out on his boat and the pogues go past and provoke him but you step in and is reminded that their baby is there and so he backs off??
Boat day || dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: I totally agree!!! Thank you for the request :)
Warnings: season 1!Rafe deserves its own warning ngl lmao
Word count: 955
MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)
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The sun was unforgiving in the way only the Outer Banks sun could be—high, hot, and constant, baking the wood of the boat deck beneath your bare feet and turning the horizon into a blinding line of white-gold where sky met sea. Rafe had taken the day off.
Which, for him, meant radio silence from Ward, no cocaine, no Tannyhill business, and no Kook drama. Just you, your baby girl, and the bow of the family boat rocking gently against the lapping waves. Your daughter was asleep against your chest, her soft cheek nestled into your collarbone as you sat in one of the white leather seats, shaded under the canopy.
One chubby hand clung to your sundress strap. She was a summer baby—tan already at five months old, with that impossibly golden fuzz of hair and Rafe’s impossibly long lashes. Rafe stood shirtless at the wheel, sunglasses low on his nose, one hand loosely gripping the throttle.
He looked good—skin bronzed, sun glinting off the gold chain around his neck, salt drying in his hair. There was something about him out here, away from the chaos and judgment of the island, that made him feel more like your Rafe. Not Ward’s son, not Kildare’s problem child.
Just the boy you had met behind the country club tennis courts when you were both fifteen. You closed your eyes for a second, listening to the hum of the engine idling, the water slapping against the hull, the occasional squawk of gulls overhead. But the calm didn’t last.
Because you heard the low buzz of another motorboat approaching. Rafe’s head snapped up before you could even open your eyes fully. His body stiffened like a coiled spring. You knew that posture. “Don’t,” you said softly, even before you saw them. Rafe didn’t answer.
You adjusted your daughter gently, standing to peer over the side just as the familiar Chateau-style wreck of a boat cruised past about twenty feet out, bumping slightly over the wake. And there they were—JJ at the wheel, Pope lounging back with his feet on the rail, and John B shirtless as always, flicking water at Kiara with a smirk on his face.
Rafe’s hand clenched around the wheel. The Pogues hadn’t even noticed you yet. Until JJ caught sight of Rafe. He straightened, tipped his head like he was about to say something smart—and sure enough, the shit-eating grin formed. “Aw, look at that! Daddy Rafe’s babysitting today!” You could feel the tension like heat radiating off Rafe’s back.l
“JJ,” Kiara hissed, elbowing him sharply before throwing a glance your way—at you and the baby on your hip. You adjust your daughter higher on your hip, her lashes fluttering as she stirred but didn’t wake. John B whistled and leaned over the side of the boat.
“Better keep the kid outta the sun, Cameron! Or you’ll end up raising another entitled jackass—just like you.” That was it. Rafe jerked away from the wheel, grabbing the side of the boat like he might leap overboard and swim to theirs. “Fucking say that again, John B. I dare you—”
“Rafe,” you snapped, stepping forward, body between him and the edge. His jaw was locked, knuckles white. A storm gathering behind his eyes. “Rafe,” you said again, firmer now. He finally looked at you. And that was when you saw the rage settle into his chest like a loaded gun with no trigger pulled.
His mouth opened, then closed again. He looked at your daughter. Her tiny hand still fisted in the fabric of your dress, head rising and falling with each of your breaths. She was watching. Even in sleep, she was watching. “Not worth it,” you said, your voice softer now, more private.
“You think they win when you lose your temper like this? When she sees that side of you?” Rafe blinked. You watched it happen—the flicker of logic returning. The weight of your words. His shoulders dropped a fraction. He still looked furious, but you could see him fighting it now.
He turned back toward the Pogues, who had slowed their boat just enough to linger, still laughing, still watching. Rafe leaned against the side of the boat, arms crossed over his chest“You’re lucky my kid’s here,” he called out, voice cold and hard as ice, but steady now.
“If she wasn’t, I’d show you what it means to talk shit when you’re not on the dock.” JJ cupped a hand to his ear, laughing. “Aww, look! Rafe went soft!” Pope muttered something, and John B shook his head, smirking. But their boat started to drift forward again. Cowards, really.
You didn’t take your eyes off Rafe until the Pogues were distant enough you could only hear the low drone of their engine. When you looked back at him, you saw the guilt flicker across his features, the vein in his jaw still pulsing.
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laurasinele · 2 years ago
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Didn't know that last fact but I've thought often about why didn't Edgar Wright land the tv adaptation. It kinda made sense in my limited cosmology of British people who Create. Also, come on, Cowley's voice actor is Peter SERAFINowicz??? (lately cast as the "sommelier" in John Wick, for reference).
I just watched Hot Fuzz again and I need to talk about it.
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The writers for Hot Fuzz have said several times that Nicolas originally had a female love interest but she took up too much time without being connected to the murder plot so they removed her completely and instead gave her core dialogue and scenes to Danny, making him the love interest.
The movie constantly makes connections between Danny and Nicolas’ ex-girlfriend. For example, she complained about Nicolas forgetting her birthday so later on Nicolas panics when nobody told him it was Danny’s birthday. She told him he has to find someone he can love more than work and by the end he chose Danny over working in London. He gifts Danny flowers and wins him a stuffed toy. They spend the night out together followed by Danny inviting Nicolas home. They have a romantic theme that only plays during their emotional scenes. We even see the exact moment Nicolas realise he’s in love with Danny when the old lady asks if he’s buying flowers for a special someone and he says “….Yes” with a shy little smile.
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The only thing missing is an actual kiss but in the Cornetto trilogy romantic relationships are rarely sealed with a kiss. In Shaun of The Dead the main romantic couple Shaun and Liz never kissed once and they had as much physical contact as Nicolas and Danny.
It’s funny to watch this movie and realise it has more queer content than some more modern movies and shows that are hailed as good queer media.
Like, I’ve never heard anyone accuse Hot Fuzz of queerbaiting but because it treats Nicolas and Danny’s relationship the same way most movies treat straight romances in the genre (it was literally originally written as a straight romance) people just didn’t notice it was a queer movie or thought it was a joke on homoerotic buddy cop movies. If it came out today it would absolutely be on the queer movie list.
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softbabybelle · 8 months ago
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make the new fic a series thank
corruption 002. 𓍯𓂃 r ֶָ֢cameron
rafe cameron x shy!reader
𝜗𝜚 summary : you've been avoiding rafe since your shared moment in his bedroom and he's been trying to reach out to you by every means possible. of course he finds you at a fucking glitter party.
𝜗𝜚 words : 2.6k
𝜗𝜚 c!w : drinking, weed, icky men, use of 'slut', violence, swearing, suggestive.
part 1, part 3.
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to say you'd been avoiding rafe cameron was putting it very, very lightly.
you hadn't uttered a word of the moment let alone the kiss you'd shared with your best friend's older brother to anybody. much less to sarah. you were sure she'd murder you both before you could finish the sentence.
but you couldn't help it, the kiss had plagued your memory.
it stung when you tried to think of anything else. you were so buzzed, a floaty feeling as your head turned to nothing but pure fuzz. rafe's hands were big and warm, fitting around your waist like a glove and his lips oh so soft. you'd never kissed anyone before him, and you were sure now that you never again wanted to kiss anyone but him.
rafe had a pretty good idea why, though was still slightly confused to your sudden detachment.
he knew you were shy, practically cowering in on yourself when any attention was directed your way. he knew he was pushing you, all but forcing your hand when offering you a blunt and not wasting a minute asking are you sure? before crashing his lips into yours.
though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't growing frustrated with the sudden radio silence.
he walked through the doors of kelce's house. he'd been here a number of times, especially for events just like the one tonight.
rafe had to hand it to him. kelce knew how to throw a house party.
despite the blaring music around him and the glitter that was swarming him, all he could think of was you. he'd tried getting a hold of you on various occasions but it was as if you'd fallen off the map. he wondered why you hadn't visited sarah until he found her in the kitchen, stating that she was off to your house.
meaning you had been avoiding him. hell, you'd been avoiding tannyhill altogether.
"man, my fucking eyes." rafe actually had to hold a hand to his eyes when he took sight of topper. kelce had been trying this new thing where he added a 'theme' to each of his houseparty's. tonight's theme was glitter.
topper's face was decorated in gold glitter, swarming through the golden locks of his hair and dripping onto his white shirt. "where's your glitter?"
an annoyed squint was all he offered. "i'm not putting that shit on me."
"kelce isn't gonna be happy. we're supposed to be supporting this whole 'theme' thing." rafe rolled his eyes as topper spoke. they moved through the house, making their way to the living room where most the party was.
kelce's house was huge and the kook's sure as hell filled it.
"dude." the sight of kelce filled his vision. he was seated on the couch, his arm strewn across the back, around some girl rafe didn't care to know the name of. "where's your glitter?"
but his words fell on deaf ears.
rafe's eyes were too busy travelling across the room, landing on you.
you weren't sitting on the couch with your friends or the chairs behind you. you were seated on the carpet, hands playing with a dainty bracelet that you often wore on your wrist. rafe wondered for a moment were you messing with it to soothe the anxiety he knew was bubbling in you. you didn't often come to things like these.
you were dressed in a white, almost silverish dress with two thin straps winding around your shoulders. he swore you never showed so much skin in public, usually a cardigan drawn over you.
pink glitter dusted your hair and he could see it faintly tracing your skin along with your eyelids and your nails painted the same glittery pink.
he was almost getting sick of the glitter everywhere, but you seemed to be changing his mind on the matter.
the chatter continued through the room and they quickly turned their attention away from rafe. you, however, couldn't seem to. you felt your cheeks heat up at the mere sight of him.
how could you ever look him in the eyes again? especially after that night. you'd been so desperate, asking him with a please to kiss you. you'd rutted your hips subconsciously against him, all doey eyed and all but begging for his lips. you'd never done such a thing, acted such a way. you were sure you could never face him ever again after it.
but rafe only took that as a challenge.
you watched as he walked towards you, plopping onto the free armchair you'd chosen to sit next to. like this, he could have fooled himself into thinking you were sitting pretty on your knees for him.
"hey, sweetheart." his tone was a soft greeting, lips playing into a quirk.
a squeaked out "hi." was his response before you whipped your head away from him, turning red in the face. the colour of your cheeks almost matched the glitter in your hair.
"leave her alone." sarah was dressed in a shimmery gold dress, almost the same shape as yours. it was apparent that you'd been matching. yet she also found a way to match with her boyfriend, same golden glitter decorating her face as his did. "she doesn't need you following her around like a dog."
rafe rolled his eyes, watching his sister blow out the smoke from a blunt and pass it off to her boyfriend. it appeared as though two blunts were going around the circle gathered in the middle of the living room. most people at the party were off doing their own thing. they wouldn't dare join.
"it's―it's okay, sarah." your meek words caused sarah's brows to furrow while rafe's face only went slack, a smirk filled with pride falling across his lips.
you didn't often speak up to sarah.
but you did, for him. perhaps it was just a quiet argument, nothing extreme. but to rafe? well he thought you ought to gain a reward.
"y/n?" your eyes snapped across the room to a boy on the couch. rafe believed his name was max, dark hair and dark eyes, shorter than himself. "you want a pull?"
a breathy giggle passed your lips as your cheeks turned pink for a reason nobody but rafe knew. "no, thank you." was your gentle response.
good girl rafe uttered in his head.
as if on cue, your eyes glanced up at him where he sat on the armchair. he gave you the smallest of nods, one not perceptible to anyone but you.
and you knew as you squirmed on your knees that you'd done the right thing.
"please." a huffed laugh fell from sarah. "y/n would have to be possessed by satan himself before she'd touch weed."
again, your eyes flickered back to rafe, this time more hesitantly.
he had this amused look on his face, as if he could read you so well. and he could. perhaps that was the scary part. these people surrounding you, they'd known you for forever. sarah was your best friend, you were closer with nobody else in the world, you told her all your filthy secrets and she shared all of hers.
but rafe... it was rafe who seemed to know you the most out of everyone in the entire room.
he was aware of your filthy little secret, not sarah.
she was completely naive to you sitting in her brothers room, atop his lap, glazed over eyes as you begged him over and over again to kiss you, a blunt being passed between you two.
a shaky breath left your lips and you stood. "'m gonna go get a drink."
"there's juice in the fridge!" kelce called after you, knowing you wouldn't actually dare drink any of the other beverages he had to offer. alcohol simply wasn't your 'scene'.
apparently weed was.
you didn't actually make it to the kitchen, though. rafe stopped you in the hallway before you could, his large hand coming to wrap around your upper arm.
skin on skin.
your head felt suddenly floaty. "shit." he let go of your arm once you were backed against the wall, swallowing thickly. "there's fuckin' glitter everywhere." wiping his hands against his jeans, coating it with pink glitter.
you frowned at his words. "'s on theme." you mumbled.
you were acutely aware of how trapped you were, between the wall and rafe's towering body. you never realised how tall he was until he was so close to you. "why are you avoiding me, huh?"
you couldn't look at him. you couldn't be this close. you couldn't. you couldn't. you couldn't.
all you could think of was his hands on your waist, his lips on your own. you could have let out a whimper at the mere flashback. "'m not."
"don't give me that shit, princess." his two fingers hooked under your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at him. this is when you panicked, eyes turning wide as saucers, top lip biting your bottom, as much as he'd told you to stop beforehand. "what, you're gone all shy 'cause you knew you wanted me to fuck you, is that it?"
for the first time, words slipped so easily from you. "rafe!" hands reached up, trying to cover his mouth.
you should've known better than that, though.
his hand swiftly grabbed your wrist, pushing it downwards. you were sure it'd leave a mark by morning. in a strange way, you hoped it did. a mark of his fingers digging into your skin. like his touch would still be there by the time you woke in your bed.
"scared people'll hear, huh? scared they won't think you're the good girl you're pretendin' to be?" he tilted his head gauging your reactions. "asked you a question, angel."
his grip tightened on your wrist and you couldn't help but whimper out, "yes." aware of the many bodies surrounding you, anyone could have easily spotted you two.
perhaps that was the upside to kelce inviting every single person to have ever lived on figure eight to his house parties. they were a bunch of nobodies. they didn't know you and you didn't know them. they didn't matter. what mattered was rafe, standing right in front of you, bending down lower so his lips could reach your ear.
"worried what they think, huh? 'n 'm the only one in this whole fuckin' house who knows who you are." suddenly his fingers softened against your chin, rough hold loosening while his fingers traced gently across your cheek. "so worried about what they think of you. y'can still be my good girl, yeah?"
you swore then and there that rafe had ripped every pretty thought that had ever developed in your head.
you were totally and utterly dumb.
and all you could offer him was a haste nod.
"y/n?" rafe allowed his hands to fall away from your skin at the sound of your name being called. you blinked, trying to come back to reality after rafe had messed you up completely. you were met with the sight of max, looking dangerously between the two of you. "he bothering you?"
you looked up at rafe in confusion while the blonde boy merely made a scowl at max. "wh―no, no he's not bothering me." your voice was sickly sweet, innocence radiating off it.
you didn't understand max's intentions.
that was why you were safe with rafe, who would make sure no man ever got to act on such thoughts.
none but himself. of course.
"come outside 'n smoke a blunt with me, then, yeah?" once again, your brows furrowed at his words. you didn't really know max all that well, just that he was a newfound friend of topper's. he moved to the outerbanks not too long ago.
"dude, are you deaf?" it was rafe who responded, instinctively standing out further than you, almost as if he were shielding you from the boy. "she said no, what―five fuckin' minutes ago?"
max's eyes squinted. "listen, with all due respect, wasn't fucking talking to you."
rafe's lips quirked upwards, tongue digging into his cheek. you looked nervously between the boys. "yeah, well you're talkin' to me now. fuck off 'n find someone else to go smoke a blunt with, yeah?"
"think i'll take this one, actually." you felt the boy reach out for you, grabbing your upper arm and dragging you forward. you stumbled as he did so, his grip made from seemingly iron.
rafe's face dropped almost instantly. his eyes glared at the hand that held you. his eyes flickered up to your face, head bent, nervously biting your bottom lip while your face contorted into a kind of stinging pain. "get your fucking hands off of her."
"yeah?" max suddenly pulled you closer, hitting your back against his chest. your eyes went wide as they looked for rafe's. you wouldn't admit it aloud, but sudden white hot fear filled your chest. "or what?"
a breathy chuckle left rafe's lips as he nodded to himself. it was almost as if he were mulling a thought over. it didn't take him long to decide.
max didn't get to let out another word before rafe was throwing a punch across his face, knocking the breath out of him.
the boy stumbled backwards, shouting out a swear and clutching his face. you felt rafe's hands immediately win you back, pulling you closer to him as your breath picked up. your eyes glanced around the house, a hundred eyes suddenly all looking at you. you didn't like this. you didn't like any of this at all. and it was all your fault.
"rafe." you practically whimpered out, hand tugging at his sleeve. you could feel tears welling in your waterline. "please, let's just g―"
"take her." max was wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand. "don't fucking want the slut anyw―"
it was safe to say that max didn't get to finish his sentence because before you could do anything to stop it, rafe was discarding you. he was practically on top of max within a blink of an eye.
you called out for rafe, begging him to stop.
you didn't want any of this, and it was all your fault.
panic filled you and suddenly there was too much air in your lungs. you felt wet hot tears against your cheeks and you tried getting rafe to stop but too many people were surrounding you now, enclosing in on you.
people knew you were shy. you didn't like meeting new people or talking in groups.
but it went so much deeper than that.
the people surrounding you made your head fuzzy. the loud noises of screaming and yelling, some telling him to stop, some egging him on further. it was all beginning to get too much and you couldn't feel yourself breathe.
you only allowed yourself to leave out a breath when topper and kelce came running through the crowd, pushing people apart to get to rafe. they all but pulled the blonde boy off of max, kelce holding him by his chest and telling him to relax.
you couldn't actually hear anything, you could just see lips moving.
everything was a blur.
rafe was yelling back at kelce, half explaining-half shouting past him to max.
he didn't stop until his gaze reached your watery eyes.
"rafe!" you could hear sarah yelling from beside you. "what the fuck is wrong with you?"
you wanted to stay to help the boy. oh you did dearly. he'd done so much for you already. but you were a coward and the panic in your chest, the frosty fear in your stomach. it wasn't going to simmer away while you stared at rafe, hands all bloody and knuckles split.
so you turned.
and you ran from it. from all of it. from him.
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heartofmachinaisms · 2 months ago
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I think it'd be interesting if Melinoë was the one to appear in Indie Cross as opposed to Zagreus since I feel like Stygius having a separate cameo From him somewhat Kinda-MAYBE implies that he got Midas'd
(something something the events of Hades 2 went as followed but then Gold Rogue showed up, Golded EVERYTHING in the House of Hades, Melionë got kaboomed somewhere else probably)
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pathologicalreid · 1 year ago
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could you write fem!BAU!reader x spencer, where reader finds out she’s pregnant while they’re on a case, like maybe she takes a test when she’s at the hotel and spencer hasn’t come back yet
(lack of) convenience | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy, nausea, vomiting, spencer reid is unfortunately perfect. vertigo. fun pregnancy symptoms. word count: 2.04k a/n: and so, the spencer reid dilf agenda continues. this is my legacy.
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It came over you just after Spencer and Rossi had left to investigate a lead. This case was going nowhere fast, and the morale in the FBI field office clearly displayed it. “Are you alright?” JJ asked from right next to you, blonde hair curtaining around her face.
You nodded tightly, enough to show the newly minted profiler that you were, in fact, not alright. Nonetheless, you were motivated to push through. People were being murdered, you could brave a little vertigo to bring their killer to justice, right?
“Hey, you look a little pale,” Emily said, walking into the conference room with Hotch trailing close behind her. “Are you feeling okay?”
Rolling your eyes dramatically, you huffed at both of your coworkers. “I’m fine,” you insisted while your head was spinning. You lowered yourself down into an office chair, hoping that being sedentary would prevent your dinner from coming up.
Emily looked over at Hotch before saying, “Maybe you should head back to the hotel, it’s been a long day for all of us.”
Furrowing your brow, you frowned at your colleague. “I’ll make it through, we have work to do,” you insisted, flipping open a file as your stomach churned.
“You’re no help to anyone if you’re sick,” Hotch told you authoritatively, and you knew from his tone that he was going to send you back to the hotel. “Get some rest, we’ll start taking breaks in shifts,” he instructed, turning back to the evidence board.
It didn’t feel like shifts, especially considering you were the only one being cast off. You mumbled an acknowledgment while you stuffed your things in your bag. JJ offered to drive you, so the two of you exited the field office.
The two of you spent most of the ride in silence, just the fuzz of the SUV’s radio as background noise while you tried not to hurl in the government vehicle.
Once you were in the hotel parking lot, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get your bearings before heading inside. “You know, I used to get sick in the evening when I was pregnant with Henry,” she said offhandedly.
It felt like a pointed comment, even if she didn’t mean it like that. You started fishing in your pocket for your room card, “But I’m not pregnant.”
“Are things good with you and Spencer?” She asked, looking for details on your relationship like an older sister. JJ killed the engine before turning to face you.
Sighing, you looked at her, “Things are great with Spencer.” You wanted to scold her for prying, but you knew it was an occupational hazard. It had been seven months, and all you had been telling anyone was “great” or “nice.”
The both of you knew that the more details you gave them, the more they’d want to pry. Penelope especially. “You know he wants kids, right?” She pushed.
You frowned at her, “Jennifer.” She put her hands up in surrender as you hauled yourself out of the SUV, “I just want to go to sleep, I feel awful.” That much was true, as you stood up outside the car, your stomach started to roil again.
“I’ll check in on you later,” she said, recognizing that she had begun to pry. “Let me know if you need anything,” she urged you, the mom in her coming into play.
Nodding, you shut the door before poking your head in the open window, “Thanks, JJ.” You said, turning around and walking to your hotel room.
Luckily, the team was already checked in, so you didn’t need to waste time trying to explain the whole ‘I’m an FBI agent’ thing to the front desk. Once you got into your room, you immediately dropped to your knees in front of the toilet, eyes burning as you upchucked into the toilet.
While you were digging through your go-bag for your toothbrush, you found yourself thinking about what JJ had said to you in the car. You couldn’t be pregnant. Well, you supposed you very well could be pregnant.
Sighing, you returned to the bathroom and started brushing your teeth, having needed to take the toothpaste out of Spencer’s bag. You made a mental note to buy more for your bag – you had been using his for the last four cases.
You silently cursed JJ for planting the thought of a baby in your head as you stared out the hotel window to a convenience store on the corner. At the very least, you could get some saltines and a Gatorade. At the very most, you could get a test.
Begrudgingly, you changed into more comfortable clothes and walked across the street to the convenience store. Grabbing a sleeve of crackers and a drink before stopping in the family planning section.
Why were there so many options?
Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself, you grabbed a digital test off of the shelf and tossed it into your basket. Your shoes squeaked on the linoleum floors as you elected to use the self-checkout, not needing to provide anyone with a front seat to your misery.
Other than the nausea, your trip back to the hotel was uneventful, and thankfully it didn’t look like anyone else on the team had made the trip to your lodging.
After you took the test, you set a timer on your phone, tossing it onto the bed before you sat on the edge of the mattress, sitting on your freshly washed hands. The timer scared you when it went off, not expecting the two minutes to go by so quickly before you returned to the bathroom.
Flipping the test over, the wind was knocked out of you as you read the results.
Yes +
You didn’t know how long you had stared at the test, but the sound of the lock on your door engaging pulled you out of your stupor. Thankfully, you had done the latch on the door, so you had a few extra minutes to toss the test in your go-bag before you went up to the door and let Spencer in.
“Hey, love,” he greeted you, dropping a kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling?” He asked caringly, someone must’ve told him you weren’t well. You hoped that was all they had told him.
Humming, you leaned into his touch for a moment before he herded you to the bed. “A bit better, but not much,” you were slightly less nauseous now, possibly because there was nothing left in your stomach. There was a dull ache in your chest though, likely a result of the information you were now aware of.
He hooked a finger under your chin and studied your features for a moment, “Were you crying?” He whispered with concern-filled eyes.
You shook your head, “I threw up.” You informed him, the lack of oxygen had caused your eyes to water – similar to a yawn. Meanwhile, your head was spinning as the words balanced precariously on your tongue, I’m pregnant.
Spencer pouted sympathetically, smoothing your hair away from your face before he felt your forehead, checking for a fever. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced softly, “do you need anything?”
Pathetically, you gestured over to your Gatorade and saltines, silently letting him know that you were all good for the night. It was only about eight in the evening, but you were exhausted. Letting your head flop onto the pillows, you sighed before shutting your eyes.
“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer spoke up in an unfamiliar tone. “What is this?”
Crinkling your nose in frustration, you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking over at Spencer as he held up your test. Your positive pregnancy test. “Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t mine?” Clearly, in your panic to hide the test, you had tossed the blue stick in Spencer’s bag. Your subconscious must’ve recalled that you had gotten the toothpaste out of that bag, so you thought it was yours.
Any confusion fell from his face, and in that instant, he knew exactly what was going on. “You’re pregnant?”
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn’t tell how he was feeling. “I-“ you swallowed thickly, the roiling in your stomach picking back up again. “Yes,” you answered in a small voice.
“When were you going to tell me?” He asked, there was no accusation in his voice, just pure curiosity and wonder. When you stayed silent, his eyes narrowed, “You were going to tell me, weren’t you?” He said, his volume raising from a whisper to a normal speaking level.
Pulling yourself up into a sitting position, you protectively crossed your arms in front of your stomach. “Oh my god, yes, I was going to tell you,” you clarified quickly. He didn’t seriously think you were going to hide this from him, did he?
He shook his head in confusion, “Then why hide it, angel?”
Shrugging, you thumbed the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, “I wanted time to think about it.” The admission hung in the thick tension of the hotel room.
“Okay,” he said slowly, walking over and sitting across from you on the mattress. It was clear to you that he was dealing with this situation delicately. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about this, but I excel in thinking,” he told you.
His implications were clear to you, he wanted you to talk it out with him. “I want kids, you know I want kids. I know you want kids,” you blurted. It was something you had talked about early on in your relationship. Spencer had been very upfront with you about wanting children, he told you he needed to be with someone who also wanted that.
Spencer tilted his head to the side, “but?” He said gently, taking both of your hands in his, holding on to you.
“It’s too soon,” you whispered, feeling vulnerable on the bed with him.
He smiled at you softly, “Have I ever told you about the first time I knew that I was in love with you?”
The question left you understandably confused, “What?” You breathed, silently pleading for clarification.
Spencer nodded, “We were on a case in North Dakota, and there was this little girl who had just lost both of her parents.” The case did sound familiar, the more brutal ones involving children tended to stick with you. “We were waiting for a social worker to come stay with her, but they were stuck in a snowbank across town. Instead of working on the case, you sat down with her and taught her how to play cat’s cradle.” His voice was soft, almost placating you.
You hadn’t even realized you were crying until tears fell onto your intertwined hands, “Spence, that was years ago.”
“Two years, nine months, and thirteen days ago. I fell in love with you while watching you put a smile on her face despite the fact that it was the worst day of her life,” he said, skimming the pads of his thumbs over the backs of your hands. “I fell in love with your ability to make people feel good when the world is against them,” he murmured.
Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at him through bleary eyes, “What if we can’t protect them?”
Gathering you in his arms, Spencer let you tuck your face in the crook of his neck, “I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N. We can leave, I could be a professor and you could be a stay-at-home mom. If you want, I could stay with the BAU and you could stay home, or you can stay with the team, and I’ll stay home. Whatever you want, Y/N.”
Silently, you absorbed his words as you caught your breath, “I’m scared” you whispered.
“I know,” he murmured, “that’s okay. It’s okay to be scared.” He tightened his arms around you and rocked back and forth.
Allowing yourself to lean into him, you breathed him in, “You’re going to be such a good dad.”
He dropped a soft kiss on the crown of your head, “You’re already such a good mom.”
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mochiqa · 25 days ago
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synopsis. tengen uzui using you to workout. tags/notes. fluff, suggestive (16+), i can't get this man's biceps out my mind, i.e. my only reason for writing this sigh.
ko-fi page here for your consideration, masterlists here for your entertainment.
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"hey pretty, c'mere for a sec," tengen calls out, motioning you over with a flick of his wrist as he sits on the weight bench. you hum and comply, walking over to stand between his spread legs, your skin bubbling with goosebumps when his large hands come up to rest on your waist. he groans at the scent of you, not that you've applied any perfume, but he finds your natural pheromones much more intoxicating than anything you can buy on the market.
"you've been going at it for, like, 2 hours now. come to the couch," you whine, the sound catching in your throat when he presses a kiss to your stomach.
"promise i'm almost done, just need to finish up arms," he smiles knowingly, gazing up at you through his long lashes. if there was one thing you wouldn't disrupt, it would be his arm workouts. gosh, you'd let him choke you with those biceps any day.
you're still lost in thought when you begin scratching at his scalp where his undercut fuzzes beneath your touch. just below that fuzz, he has your name tattooed in cursive - something he asked (begged) you to let him get. not that you hated the attention, it was just so... intimate.
by the time you notice he's lying on the bench, he’s guiding you on top of him to straddle his chest. you yelp and almost topple forward, drawing a soft laugh from him and a tighter grip on your waist. then, his hands position you so that he’s holding you horizontally, one hand on your back and the other firm under both your knees.
“what’re you–! this feels like it should be happening somewhere else,” you squeak out, clearing your throat to maintain some sense of stability despite your wavering voice.
within a few seconds, tengen is holding you up and lowering you to his chest repeatedly, treating you like a very squirmy, and frankly adorable, dumbbell. numerous times he has to pause his movements to snicker and control himself, your complaints and flustered yelps falling on the ears of a man who could keep doing this for the next 4 hours.
he grunts with every other lift, his muscles flexing, his chest contracting and releasing. you don’t see a single bead of sweat on his face, his expression isn’t even strained - he looks calm, comfortable, at ease.
with an effortless turn of his arm and a moment of adjustment, he balances you in one hand, grinning up at your horrified and anxious, yet enamoured, expression. “i’ve got you, baby. sweet girl loves to help out however she can, don’t she?” he teases, watching your pursed lips turn into a small pout.
“shut up, ten,” you groan, covering your feverish face with your hands.
after a few minutes of him pushing you up and back down, he sets you down on his lap. you catch your breath like you just ran a marathon, whilst he - the one who did the workout - hardly has a hitch in his breath. instead, his eyes sparkle as they admire you, observe the few strands of hair that are sticking up and out like you’ve caught a radio signal.
“thank you for being the bestest girl ever,” he sighs, resting his chin on the top of your head. you smile and inhale the scent of his musk. “not that i had much choice…” you murmur, playing with the drawstring of his shorts. he inhales sharply at that and quickly, but gently, grabs your hand in his and guides you onto your feet with him and out the gym.
“you know what you’re doing,” he practically growls, voice husky even as he smiles tenderly at you.
you feign innocence (though, it wasn’t as though you were actively trying to rile him up, he’s just so easy.) “wha–? enlighten me.
you burst into a fit of giggles when he grabs you and throws you over his shoulder. he marches upstairs and into the bathroom where he’s determined to involve you in a different type of workout.
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frogblast-the-ventcore · 1 year ago
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Been thinking about aftercare for robots.
It'd be different than for a human.
Depending on how hard their partner pushed their processor fucking them, it might need new thermal paste.
They may need servos re-oiled from the rapid repetitive use.
Loose wires to be reconnected- whether that's from them vigourously fucking you into the bed, or how after you turned tables on them and fucked them hard instead? Who can say.
Reshaping the memory polymer of their squishier bits because you were holding on so tight all night?
Cleaning the cum out of the panel lines after you both made a mess of each other.
And then, after all that, the cuddling. They're warm, and the sounds they make help you fall alseep. Like a white noise generator, but instead of computer-generated static or radio fuzz, it's the soft cycling of a power plant, shunting into low-power mode. The smooth whine of servos as they adjust to hold you just so.
And all the while knowing it's your own lover making those sounds? Sounds you eventually come to find comforting, and expected, and safe, and calming?
Well.
Can there be anything better?
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shamanluna-radio-prog · 1 year ago
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Disillusioned Man
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greeniegirl23 · 8 months ago
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Spilled Ink!! 🔏: Alastor x Reader NSFW!
(Minors DNI! Go clean your sneakers! >:(
Mentions: NSFW/ Overstimulation/ Begging/ Alastor having Dom energy/ Fucking Stupid - Stupid Fucking)
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Honestly, you're not too sure how it even happened. One moment you were reading a book in your room until Alastor came knocking, resulting in you both getting into a fuzz about his ability to snap stuff to fruition as he pleased, so why did he need to pester you and take your very high quality, very expensive ink.
You had to remind him that you worked for a living and he even tried to intimate it out of you by informing you that his day had been very trying. You were only supposed to tell him to go to double hell and slam the door in his face, that's all!
But before you could, he tried to snatch it off of your desk, resulting in a tussle and the ink to go flying on both of your clothes. Things got blurry for a second, but you remember blinking and be sat square in his lap with his length nestled in the deepest crevices of your body.
Your back was facing his as he pressed kisses to your neck, leaving bitmarks and hickies in the junction of your shoulder. The robe you wore was drooping down, giving him room to paint your body with his affection and leaving one of your breasts exposed to the warm air of the room.
Darkness caused your senses to be dialed up to eleven. You couldn't see a thing except for the soft crimson glow of his eyes out of your peripherals. Long slender fingers snuck themselves under your robe, a hand caressed your curves before setting on your stomach to feel the small bulge that was there. He had to admit, his chest swelled with pride as he felt himself through your body. Resting peacefully and warm, just how he liked it.
The other hand cradled your head as you leaned back on him for support. Hot tears traced down your face and over his fingers; he felt so good but it wasn't enough to dismiss the burn that ached in your core.
You thanked God that he allowed you to adjust. You tried to tell him he wouldn't fit, you really did but he wouldn't listen. Instead, he hushed you with sweet nothings into your ear. Wiping your tears with something disguised as love as he breached your entrance and pushed your body past it's limits.
Even when you shrieked in discomfort, he held you by your chin and kissed your forehead. “Shhh, relax darling.” He cooed. “I said I'd take care of you and I am a man of my word, but I have to get in somehow.” He said in a sing-song like voice, half dressed and disheveled.
Your claws shredded his clothing as he pushed inch, after agonizing inch into your tight heat. Kissing away your tears until he managed to fit all of himself inside you.
That had been about five minutes ago and you could tell he was starting to get impatient. Clicks and chirps from his internal radio grew in frequency, pressing his nose into your skin to inhale your sweet scent, and shallowly bucking his hips.
The soft clicking sound from where you were intertwined made your walls pulse around him, causing him to moan softly into your ear. The initial sound was so lewd and frankly embarrassing, but your body responded to it like a beautiful symphony.
Pretty soon his hips found a steady pace within you, using his powers to restrain your hands behind your back while his own moved to grip the fat of your curves. Soft clicks turned into soft slapping, quiet moans transitioned into something straight up pornographic.
He was so fucking big to the point where your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Each nudge to your cervix made you wanna cry but you were swimming in pleasure as he brought you closer and closer to a release.
Alastor huffed and puffed in your ear, letting out genuine moans that you were deemed worthy enough to hear. Whispering and whimpering your name into his kisses, the sharpness of his claws pierced your skin in a delicious manner as he picked up the pace.
You were hugging him so tightly, pulsing around him with a vice-like grip, and giving him the most intimate of cockrings straight from the heart of your core.
It didn't take long until you were begging for mercy. Begging for him to slow down because you just couldn't take him in his entirety. Everything was too much, he was too big, you were too close! Fuck! You were gonna!-
Alastor supported your body as you convulsed almost violently against him. Even as you screamed his name, as tears fell down the apples of your cheek, he still kept his pace up. Bullying your poor pussy despite your tightness trying to force him out so you could breathe for a damn second!
“Stop resisting..” He growled, fucking you seven ways to Sunday through your sensitivity. “You can take it darlin’”
You wanted to scream, but your voice was too hoarse from earlier. “I can’t!” You stuttered out. The tip of his length was hitting your g-spot so good it made your toes curl and your eyes cross.
“Just a bit more..!” He begged, fighting his Southern drawl as you pulsed around him again. He was so close but it wasn't enough, he needed more.
In a swift motion, Alastor had pulled out and threw you on your back. Shredding off your robe into nothing but tatters of fabric, he folded your knees back to reach your ears and plunged himself back into your heat.
The bundle of nerves between your body had grown puffy, your walls had grown weary of Alastor's torment. Every thrust had him practically shifting your insides around while the bulge from before was now more prominent given the new position.
In a desperate attempt, you stuck out your hands against his stomach with your palms flat. “..Slow down!”
Needless to say that didn't work, because in five seconds flat your wrists were chained by the commanding snap of his fingers, and placed around his neck so you couldn't move them.
“Know your place little girl..” He hissed. Extremely irritated that you'd dare interrupt him, much less demand him to do anything all in the same sentence.
As punishment, he buried his face into your neck as his body grew a bit in size. Just around his pelvic area of course, sending straight jolts of pain through your body as his thrust were even more forceful than before.
“AH! M’SorryM’Sorry!!!” You quickly apologized, while tuging at the restraints. Hoping that he'd forgive you because if not, you wouldn't be walking anywhere for a very long time.
“Too late darlin..’” His body curled itself over top of your smaller one, forcing you into more of a ball and somehow sending him deeper. You screamed profanities, struggled against your restraints, and begged for his forgiveness but it was no use.
He fucked you mercilessly, the kind of sex that could make you fall in love with even your most hated enemy. A second release was coming up on you fast, as you let out all sorts of sounds through gritted teeth and Alastor got lost in his own pool of ecstasy. It was almost impressive that he was fucking both of you into stupidity.
“Keep beggin’ like that cher, n’ you'll drive a man mad..” He whispered with a thick static lacing his tone.
“Al please, I can't take it!” You cried, only for him to kiss your cheek in comfort. “S’all most over Sweetheart, it's almost over…” Slowly his hand crept down between your bodies and began to give some attention to the bundle of nerves that had been neglected for some time now.
“Alastor, wait!-” He slammed his lips against your own as you pleaded between kisses, forced to take his onslaughts because he had ceased your every way to move. It didn't take long before your orgasm hit you like a eighteen wheeler, your body locked up so badly you caught a cramp in your thigh.
Wailing against his lips, Alastor took the opportunity to fuck his last bits of strength into you before his own realese finally finally came.
His antlers sprouted high enough to scrape the ceiling, claws tore the couch stuffing in his office to mere tatters as the internal radio within him flipped through what sounded like a thousand stations all at once. His moans were intangible, thick, and distorted into a language you couldn't understand as he pumped thick ropes of his seed directly into your body. Filling you up to the point of overflowing as the buzz from the best fucking sex of your existence begin to settle in. His lips fought to stay stuck in yours, to soothe your cries as he cradled your body and muttered "I've got you cher, I'm right here." against your lips. The occasional profanity slipping out here and there from your body sucking him dry.
It took awhile for Alastor to remove himself, taking a second to observe his handiwork on your body and to also appreciate the white substance that leaked from your fountain of intimacy. Snapping away your restraints, he helped you sit up as best you could without wabbling and placed his trademark tailcoat over your shoulders, even securing it with his bowtie as he dressed himself properly.
“You can keep that for now, I'll purchase you a new robe from Rosie's sometime this week.”
In silence you sat as his finished straightening his clothes and grabbing the pen ink that he originally bothered you for in the first place.
“Don't worry about walking for the next few days, I'll have my shadows set up space for you in my room and if anyone asks I'll tell them you've come down with a fever.”
“I'm sorry.” You waved your hand in a circle. “You think you can walk into my room and pick a fight with me over ink that you could have snapped into reality by yourself, bang me like a screen door during a hurricane, and then expect me to take recovery in your chambers?!”
“Yes.” He said with a smile, cocky and condescending. “I did quite a number on you my dear, you're going to need some special attention for a while.”
“Uh, fuck you. I can take care of myself just fine.”
“Really now?” He smirked, placing a hand on his hip with the sass of a middle aged woman. “Stand up and walk.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me, darling I didn't screw you daft." He raised an eyebrow and looked down on you with a dark expression, grinning big enough to split his face in two.
"Walk.."
With an irritated twitch in your eye, you shuffled to the edge of the couch and stood up, taking a cautious step forward before a strike of pain knocked on the door of your brain, resulting in you limping forward and falling before you could even hit a second step. Luckily, Alastor's lanky arms were there to catch you as you curled in on yourself from the excruciating cramps that were blossoming in your stomach.
“The fuck did you do to me?” You groaned. “Ughh, it feels like I just got hit with my cycle!"
A smarmy chuckle left his lips as he fixed you bridal style in his arms. “That would be the bruising of your cervix settling in, hence why you're going to need my care for a bit. I've got some remedies from my time up above that should aid in easing the issue.”
Hissing from his purposely uncareful movements, you fought the urge to stretch him. “You motherfucker..”
He snorted as he carried you into his room in the dark of the hotel. “I'd hardly refer to myself as such a thing, however if we do have little hellspawns, twelve would do nicely, I suppose then that name would become a more applicable title. ”
“Twelve what?! Are you insane?!"
He shrugged. "Go big or go home Darling!"
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trombonechurchill · 2 months ago
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Thirsty Thursday
Tagged by @setmeatopthepyre and @chimneyz thank you~
😏been awhile since I've had anything to share but I've been struck down by yet another new WIP, shocker. a 5+1 of Bartender!Buck trying to guess the favourite drink of his new favourite, totally normal, very human patron, Tommy...
"Fine. I'm fine," he says tightly. It's not exactly convincing. "Alliums," he adds, unhelpfully, clearing his throat and gripping the sink tighter when Buck only tilts his head in confusion. "Allergic to alliums. Like onions or-" "Garlic- Oh shit, Tommy I'm sorry, there was garlic salt in the rim- I had no idea." Tommy raises a hand and Buck falls quiet, shocked as his mouth seems to close on its own. Tommy's breaths are still coming in rabid gasps, a shudder passing over him that finally manages to kick Buck's brain back into gear. It's been a minute since his last first-aid course but he'd feel better if he could at least check Tommy over, the urge to get his hands on him almost overwhelming, like Tommy might simply disappear into the ugly bathroom tile if Buck can't rest his hands on him. "Hey, you sure you're okay?" Tommy flinches when Buck's palm settles lightly on his back and he's struck by the lack of body heat. There's a sheen of sweat over Tommy's skin and he blinks thickly as he turns to regard Buck, seemingly confused how he could have gotten next to him. Buck frowns, reaching out to rest the back of his hand on Tommy's clammy forehead. "You're kinda freaking me out, man." "Sorry," Tommy says thickly, swaying into the contact and shutting his eyes. Buck swears he can feel the weight of it, the sudden lack of Tommy's eyes on his, like someone slowly turning the dial on the old radio in his Jeep, static fuzz creeping in if he looks too long. He let's the hand drop, suddenly not sure how long he'd been holding it to Tommy's flushed skin, laments the loss of contact immediately. He's been serving Tommy for months now but it's telling that he's never seen him drunk. Tommy's a social drinker, though he rarely talks to the other bar patrons when Buck's busy. It's part of why Buck likes Tommy as a customer so much, never had to cut him off, never had to haul Tommy bodily outside when they hit closing time. Now though, Tommy swaying in and out of Buck's space like a stormy sea, eyes hazy as he leans awkwardly, still breathing hard. Maybe Buck does really need to call someone- "Sorry, I'm really sorry," Tommy rasps again, finally loses his valiant battle with gravity as he presses his face into Buck's throat, full weight of him solid along Buck's chest as his arms come up to cradle him automatically. "Hey, no you're good, I've uh- I've seen way worse in a bar bathroom are you kidding?" Buck stutters at the cold press of Tommy's nose under his jaw, feels the flutter of breath on his skin as Tommy inhales deeply. Feels his blood burn hot at the idea that Tommy might be smelling him.
np tagging @emphasisonthehomo, @ambernotember, @frogsinflannel, @dark-alice-lilith, @sunnywithachanceofbi, @disaster-j, @3min17sec, @mustlovetommy, @nzchance, @gothwizardmagic, @insecuregodcomplex, @bangpop91, @powersuitup @vamphours, and @o0anapher0o if you guys have anything to share <3
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