#<- that tag is just bc this is such a frequent occurrence it needed to happen at some point to document in there

[herosplatling-replica]

desperately needed to illustrate a specific emotion i'm consumed with each and every time i hear any of act 5's songs (redraw of this)

[fbfh]

making out with Leo hcs

wc: 1.3k

warnings: making out (obvs),

genre: fluff (and little mild pinch of spice here and there), sfw

pairing: Leo x gn reader

song recs: I stood on my feet for 6 hours straight and all I could think about was you - tea, acolyte - slaughter beach dog

a/n: I couldn't resist w the gif. also GOD this man will be the death of me. I can feel him so viscerally and I need a smooch immediately

tags @yourfavoritefangirl @yesv01 @magcon7280 @avashaye @perseajohnson @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @yelenabel0vaswife @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomforts  @lizziebitch33  @jacksondeeznuts @girlfriendwhoseawitch @urmum-xoxo @Asunnyhunny @dustyinkpages @cowboylikekelsey @legramilis @youkissedareaderinthedark @cosmiq-cloud @anything-forourmoony  @i-dont-remember-a-lot  @chasingpj @1dpjohoohp @yelenabel0vaswife @mystic-writings   @babiesimagines @dreamerball @Asunnyhunny @demirunner @if-only-i-was-fictional @mrscarolscaramoucheplease @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800

This motherfucker is a kissing MACHINE

Making out with Leo can happen at almost any time

For almost any reason

Bc let’s be real

Who in their right goddamn mind wouldn’t want to make out with him at the drop of a hat

At any and every possible opportunity

So yeah lucky for you

And lucky for Leo

Making out is a very, very frequent occurrence

God Leo just gets lost in you

As cheesy as it may sound

He gets so blissed out from your taste and your smell

The feeling of your lips on his, your skin against his hands, his tongue in your mouth

He literally loses all sense of time and is just in this euphoric haze 

After about three or four seconds he can feel himself just melt into you

And after that?? He’s gone

He’s on another planet

In a whole entirely different world

His hands are everywhere

In your hair, on your face, your neck and waist and ass

Grabbing your legs and caressing you so affectionately, his hands roaming all over your body and slipping under your clothes

And god holding your face??????

That one’s your favorite

When he holds your face in his big warm hands, stroking your skin 

His soft lips are all over yours, tongue slipping playfully into your mouth as he sighs and moans against your lips

His soft breaths puffing over your skin while he works his lips against yours

He’s so happy and so relaxed like this

God you just make him feel so happy

So good and relaxed and warm 

So whole and fuzzy inside

And seriously 

He will make out with you at any and every possible opportunity 

Lazy morning makeouts peppered in between the smell of minty toothpaste and fresh coffee 

Your soft pajamas rub against his skin and you still smell like sleep 

He never knows if he’s flushed from being cuddled under warm blankets or from how sweetly you smile and hum against his lips when he wraps his arms around you

These are sprinkled throughout your whole morning routine 

He’ll sneak in little kisses and love bites while the he starts making you your favorite breakfast

Oh that’s another thing

He fucking loves cooking for you

Especially in the morning when you look all soft and sleepy

Like since you moved in together you literally can’t remember the last time you made your own breakfast

Or on busy days you have the exciting rushed indulgent “one more kiss before we go” kisses

That obviously turn into hurried makeouts

God he’s just addicted to you

Because it’s never just one more kiss

It’s the one after that

And after that

And the murmured “I love you- love you so much-” against your lips

Until you’re a giggling flustered wreck insisting you’ll both be late

And every single time part of him wants to say fuck it

Wrap you up in his arms and throw you on the couch and kiss you until you both pass out

Or yk… something else happens…

And then there are the equally lovely I’m so glad to finally see you after such a long day makeouts

You know, the ones where Leo enters smelling like metal and covered in grease and his hair’s all rumpled and pushed back out of his face

And he drops his bag and lets out the biggest sigh and before you’re even done greeting him he takes your face in his hands and gives you this big messy relieved kiss that melts into a full on makeout before he finally pulls away and looks at you so sweetly

“Hi,” he says softly

You greet him back with a flustered giggle and despite how tired he is he gives you the warmest most organic sincere smile

He would be amazed that you can always make him smile no matter how exhausted he is

But you’re really just that amazing so he can’t say he’s too surprised

Then there are the times where you’re out somewhere or at some event and Leo finds any excuse to slip away with you

You think maybe his social battery is running low

Until he pins you against the wall so you can suck face until you absolutely have to go back out there

He’s gotten in the habit of making a mental note of where any good quiet makeout spots are whenever y’all are anywhere 

It’s not that he can’t keep his hands to himself

But like 

You’re you 

Of course he’s going to jump at any and every opportunity to kiss you breathless and get to hold you close to him and feel your body press against his

Kissing you 

Making out with you

It makes his brain so quiet

And as an adhd genius, that’s not a luxury he gets very often

You’re an oasis of peace in the hurricane of chaos that is his life

And he truly has never been happier since knowing you

He just gets overwhelmed with his love and adoration for you

And usually kissing you does the trick

But sometimes after a while of feeling you grab at his shirt and melt into his touch

After feeling your pulse speed up when he bites at your neck to make you gasp a little

After being so, so close to you and hearing all of your little breaths and noises and sighs

He gets a little frisky

Playful if you will

But can you blame him??

You just look so extra cute when you get like this

I hope you don’t get flustered easily bc he will tease the shit out of you just to see you bury your face in his neck when you get all embarrassed from the attention

And he will find more and more ways to make you a flustered mess when he gets like this during a makeout sesh

Your favorite 

And subsequently his 

Is when he just fuckin

Scoops you up and tosses you onto the nearest surface

This can go one of two ways so we’ll be discussing the non lemon flavored one here

Yes he loves seeing you turn into a flustered mess bc of him

Yes he loves how nervous you get and how easily you respond to all of his licks and kisses and love bites

But god he just loves the intimacy of it all

Getting to lay on top of you on a soft couch with your legs wrapped around him

Holding your face and caressing your body with his hands, every brush of his fingertips telling you over and over how much he loves you

How amazing you are

How he thanks the gods and the fates every goddamn day that you’re in his life at all

Much less to this extent

He loves listening to your blood thrum and your breaths rise and fall

He loves the way you smell, the sound of your voice when it’s all quiet and up close like this

He just loves you

And he will express that in many ways, including making out with you as often as he possibly feasibly can

Because Leo is a firm believer that if you’re lucky enough to bag a catch like you, you kiss them and tell them you love them as often as possible

And get them a lot of flowers

Only some of which are a little charred

And you wouldn’t have them any other way

[meltingpotimagines]

Boyfriend!Kirishima

this boy

would fall head over heels for you so fast

just one day around you and he’s smitten

surprisingly not that obvious about it

he’s just a little happier and energetic around you

denki knows him well enough that he noticed and bakugo but he couldn’t care less

does his best to strike up a conversation with you

he really likes learning more about you

you’re just so cool and interesting to him

suggested a weekly game night just so he had an excuse to see you more

he knew you love hanging at the dorms so there was no way you’d miss out on this

what he didn’t know was you love it bc of him

i mean sure it was so much fun hanging with denki, and you had a blast jamming out to music with jiro and mina, but nothing beat being around eijirou

he’s just so upbeat and nice and funny

and kinda really cute but anyway

sat between todoroki and bakugo (which just happened to conveniently be directly across from you)

a vote had been taken on which game to play, and jenga won by a couple of votes

mina tossed out the idea for every piece you pulled, you had to choose truth or dare

honestly there was so much potential for this to go wrong and everyone knew it but i mean risk = fun right?

you’d all made bakugo promise not to blow up the whole tower if he got frustrated or lost 

all the truths were silly and the dares dumb

until it got to you

you successfully pulled a piece and decided it wouldn’t be too risky to choose dare, considering no one had dared anything t r u l y stupid

and immediately regretted it when denki gave you a mischievous grin

“i dare you to kiss kirishima”

eijirou stiffened as a blush spread across your cheeks

it’s not manly to force someone to kiss him!!

“you don’t have to-” “no... no it’s okay. i’m no wuss.”

just when he thought he couldn’t like you more

nervously watched as you got up and went around to where he was sitting

stiffened even m o r e as you gave his cheek a quick peck

“awww c’monnnn, at least do it on the lips!” denki you brat i love you

your blushed deepened as you two made eye contact

“is... is that okay?” “only if you want to”

he is a g e n t l e m a n and would never want you to do something you didn’t want to

well

i guess you did want to

because you kissed him

and ohhhh boy

sparks went f l y i n g

the electricity between you two made denki’s powers look like nothing more than static shock

the cheers and wolf whistles were nothing but white noise as you and eijiro stared at each other, shocked

“wow” “w o w”

best believe this boy took you out the very next day

nothing extravagant, just a cute lil ice cream date

he likes the little dates the best

they're definitely a daily occurrence until long after you two became official

but even after that you two started having frequent movie and cuddle nap dates

yes cuddle naps are dates and no one can convince me otherwise

prefers to be big spoon but is down to be little spoon

if he’s big spoon, he’ll wrap his arms around you and pull you into him, your face buried in his chest, his face buried in your hair partially because he really likes the scent of your shampoo

if you’re big spoon, he’ll snake his arms around your waist and bury his face in your neck, occasionally nuzzling and pressing kisses

will always make sure all the gel is washed out of his hair first so there's no risk of you getting poked

which is extra great bc then you get to play with his hair!

he loves the feeling of your fingers weaving through the strands and your nails on his scalp

also really likes when you lay on top of him

just gazes as you adoringly as he scratches your back

his heart swells if you fall asleep

knowing you trust him that much makes him feel so happy

plus you just look so cute when you’re asleep

bonus points if you have that cute soft snore

loves playing video games with you whether you actually play with him or just watch and support him

if you play with him, you're always his top priority no matter the game

battle games? he w i l l protect you

social simulation games? he'll do his best to help get you everything you want

puzzle games? you two are a t e a m you will figure this out together

if you're just there as support, you're still a priority

prefers when you sit on his lap/between his legs

will periodically kiss your cheek/the top of your head

doesn't matter how involved in the game he is, he will never fail to press a kiss

if you fall asleep, he'll make sure to quiet down so he won't accidentally wake you up

it's the funniest thing to anyone who catches him tho

he'll be absolutely raging but in the most hushed voice you can imagine or letting out victorious whoops but in Tiny

once covered your ears the best he could with his arm so he could be a little louder yelling at sero

mina managed to catch that on camera and posted it, tagging the two of you

have i mentioned this boy is a simp?

bc he is a Simp™

anything you want, you got

he sees something that reminds him of you? immediately bought it to give to you

half of his hoodies were already in your closet within the first week

he thinks you look so cute in them, especially if they're too big for you

the sight of you practically swimming in his clothes make his heart burst

periodically switches the half he gave you for the half he kept

basically when the ones he gave you no longer smells like him

it's great for him too bc the ones he get back smell like you

will pick wildflowers to put in your hair/behind your ear when you two go on walks

l o v e s giving you piggyback rides

also loves picking you up to carry you bridal style

even if you two are just standing

he just likes your smile and the way your eyes sparkle when he does

kisses your forehead a lot

sometimes quick little pecks

sometimes gentle, lingering kisses

whatever matches his mood in the moment

likes play-fighting with you

like fake wrestling

definitely lets you win sometimes

partially bc he'd feel bad if he always won but also bc he thinks it's adorable when you look down at him with that grin, so proud of yourself for beating Red Riot

was the first to say "i love you"

didn't really think much about it

he looked at you one day and felt his heart swell so he just kinda said it

but somehow it felt even more special??

like the way he said it sounded so sweet and genuine

as if it was the most natural thing in the world to say

and for him it was

he couldn't imagine not saying it

he loves you so why not say it?

especially considering just how m u c h he loves you

from then on says it all the time

you're cuddling? "i love you"

playing games? "i love you"

making tea? "i love you"

he just has to say it

he will as many times as needed to make sure you understand just how much he does

[elliot-orion]

10 Questions Tag

So @samplewriting tagged me to answer their 10 questions, tag some people, and give them 10 of my own! Thanks lovely!! You had very good questions ;)

1 Book that inspired your WIP the most? 

If we are going for my doll maker one that I’ve been obsessed w, then not a book but a podcast - the magnus archives. I’m going for the deeply unsettling but not quite horror kind of horror story.

2 Fantasy or scifi?

Uh fantasy I think. Scifi is fun to world build for but whenever I actually get around to writing what I planned it never happens.

3 Favorite part of the writing process?

Creating characters and that mad rush of inspiration I get for the first draft (that then goes away once it’s done and I have to edit...)

4 Least favorite piece of writing advice?

Either “DONT EVER use adverbs” or the whole make a set time every day to sit down for an hour and write even if you’re a goddamn college kid with no time on their hands to relax let alone have the brainpower left to WRITE. hmph.

5 What is your favorite thing to world build?

Either new species or new societies. I love love love figuring out how different beings would adapt to different social or environmental pressures ok it’s fascinating

6 Dialogue or prose?

Prose and you can tell that by the frequent occurrence of “half line of dialogue - three bulky paragraphs of internal monologue” in my writing. I’m not ashamed.

7 Who is your favorite OC to write in your current wip?

Again for my doll maker one, The Doll Maker himself. He’s so unsettling and creepy I fucking love him.

8 Which OC would you dress up as for comic con?

Ok so I’d love to do a cosplay of one of the Doll Makers dolls bc gods Thats creepy, but I’d need a friend to do him bc otherwise I’d just be a weird porcelain doll. Either that or sparky bc duh.

9 . What talk show would you want to be on to discuss your book?

I don’t watch talk shows so idk which one but. My nana watches Ellen so that would be funny lol. Just go “ hi nana!” Or smth Lol.

10 If you could go back and tell your younger writer self anything what would it be

I know all your writing friends have super cool WIPs and writing styles but you don’t have to write like them to be a good writer. Your way is good too and I’m time your style will develop so just write the shit you like, not the shit they like.

Imma tag @gracebriarwoodwrites @icarusatmidnight @norawritess @albatris and @lynnafred ! Only if you want to as always, no pressure. Your questions are ...

Are you a Plotter, plantser, or pantser?

Where is your favorite place to write?

Do you like making playlists/moodboards / other media for your writing? Show us one!

If you could see any scene from your WIP in a movie format, which would you choose?

What’s your favorite trope to write?

How do you decide on titles for your stories?

What got you into writing?

If you could meet 1 famous writer who would it be?

Do you have a writing routine?

Who is your favorite character to write?

Enjoy!

[portraitsofivy]

King of New York rant

A piece of advice: do not write a very long rant on Tumblr, save it in your drafts, and expect it to be there when you return bc it will not. I had at least half of this written out, saved it so I could go to another room and it deleted the whole dang thing and I had to start over. Grr.

Tag list: @lcevinolusola @marvelmerlinao3 @duhke

So in a lot of rants (that I agree with except for the KoNY bits) on how Newsies handled disabilities - Crutchie’s disability in particular - the song King of New York is often brought up. These posts make it out that King of New York is a  chipper brush-over of the horrible things that happened in the previous scene(s). I believe one of them said something along the lines of ‘our friend got dragged away to hell-on-earth, let's sing and tap-dance because we’re in a newspaper that no one’s selling!’ I, however, would like to argue that King of New York is actually a song that the newsies use to cover up just how bad they’re hurting at the loss of their friends.

Before the song, as the lights come up to signal the beginning of Act 2, we see the newsies lying around Jacobi’s, all sporting various injuries. They’re all sad, despondent, and clearly hurting both emotionally as well as physically. After all, no teenage boy (especially ones raised in a society that praised the ‘emotionless manly-man’ stereotype even more than today’s culture does) is going to be that upset over injuries like that. Would they be that upset over losing a fight as important as the one they just lost? Maybe. But I think that mostly they’re sad, and more importantly scared, for what’s going to happen next, especially what’s going to happen to Crutchie. After all, it is made abundantly clear in the first Act (especially during Carrying the Banner) that Crutchie is very close to all of the newsies.

He laughs when they poke fun at his leg (“Do you wanna bust up your other leg?” “No, I wanna go down.” “Hey, Crutchie, what’s ya leg sayin’? Gonna rain?” “No, no rain-- ho HO. Party cloudy, clear by evening.”). He playfully fights with them (punching Jack and Romeo during Carrying the Banner and receives a few playful punches of his own). And when they get into fights with the Delancey’s he cheers them on by waving his fist in encouragement as Albert carries him offstage. Heck, he’s even part of the backwards cap crew, which is a very exclusive club. Everyone feels his absence very keenly.

Perhaps, the one who feels it most is Race. Although never explicitly stated, we can tell from the dynamics that Race and Crutchie are probably pretty high up in the chain of command (I think that they probably share the title of ‘second-in-command’ with Crutchie dealing more with the home base and Race interacting more with the other boroughs. Aaaaaand guess who has another headcanon I need to flesh out *sigh*). Race is feeling more than a little lost without Jack or Crutchie there to help, and everyone is looking to him to make decisions. Even though Jack’s disappearances are implied to be a common occurrence, he at least had Crutchie to help him keep things going when Jack went MIA. But this time it’s just him. And as I mentioned earlier, Race is a never-ending optimist. He isn’t used to being sad. Most of the newsies aren’t used to being sad, but especially not Race. He doesn’t like this. Even Katherine is thrown off by the gloom in the room (“Would you get a look at these glum mugs?”). So she tries to make them feel better by showing them the paper. And here’s the crux of my argument.

Race gets excited. Too excited. If Jack and Crutchie had been there, they would’ve celebrated, sure, but not like they did here. There wouldn’t’ve been such a big deal made out of it, I doubt it would’ve even been a whole song. They would’ve brushed it over in the span of a few lines and immediately started planning their next step. Instead, the newsies grab at it like a lifeline.

They’ve just had someone who means the world to them ripped away, lost a huge fight, possibly lost their jobs, and like Jack said, they aren’t there ‘on playtime.’ They’re starving, and there is a very real possibility that they could die because of this. They feel hopeless. Then Katherine offers them a spot of hope and they jump up to grab it.

Race grabs the newspaper, his optimistic spirit returning. Since he’s the leader, the others follow. They all jump on the paper, talking to each other about how this is a good thing (“Would ya look it, that’s me!” “I won’t be last in line for the tub tonight!” “Wait until my fadda sees this!”). But then Katherine asks Specs and Albert about serious subjects, she gets an answer, and Race overhears.

“Could ya stop with all the seriosity long enough to just drink in the moment?” He doesn’t want to think about it. They’re teenage boys who run off optimism and the charity of nuns, of course they want to ignore the things that hurt. That’s how they manage to get out of bed every day.

They’re singing the song not because they don’t care about Jack missing or Crutchie being in the Refuge, they’re singing because they do care, and caring hurts. They’re dying inside knowing that their friends aren’t safe. So like someone who is overwhelmed by hurt, they grab for something that’ll make it better. They grab for the balm that heals, at least momentarily.

In Carrying the Banner, they frequently mention all the bad things that are happening (”Curdled coffee” - “Just give me half a cup!”, “Summer stinks and winters freezing, when you works outdoors.” “Start out sweatin, end up sneezin', in between it pours!”) but they acknowledge these things. Even in Letter to the Refuge Crutchie mentions all the bad things going on, even though he’s trying to remain optimistic to reassure Jack. In King of New York, they don’t mention a single bad thing. They’re trying to have a smile on their face, even if its a fake one.

Really, it makes me think of this quote from Doctor Who; “Every time you see them happy you remember how sad they're going to be. And it breaks your heart. Because what's the point in them being happy now if they're going to be sad later? The answer is, of course, because they are going to be sad later.” They all know that the sadness will crash in again soon enough, so they cling to the happiness of that moment.

The song isn’t happy in the way that Carrying the Banner is, it’s the happiness that comes from people who are trying too hard to be happy to escape sadness. King of New York may sound like a happy little mid-show ditty, but it is actually a song of desperate children trying not to think about the world collapsing around them.

(And it is furthermore shown that they do care. Specs visits Crutchie in the Refuge and delivers a letter to Jack. During the scene change for Watch What Happens (Reprise) the newsies are shown wandering around New York looking for Jack. They care, a lot. Like Crutchie said, “New York’s got us, and we’re family.” They love each other to death, and the absence of one of their ranks is heartbreaking.)

[onwardintolight]

I just finished the TLJ novelization by Jason Fry and I’m... just, wow??  It was amazing. I’d heard rumors that it gave Rey/lo fans reasons to rejoice, but honestly I didn’t see anything of the sort (and plenty, in my mind, to the contrary). Instead, I saw a beautiful, thoughtful adaptation of the movie, with some great extra scenes and the benefit of various characters’ perspectives. I felt at times like I was reading a really good fanfic, because it was (for the most part) so good at the emotional aspects of the story and, again, at giving us great insight into different characters’ POV. (Also there were a few hilarious moments that screamed fanfic to me too, in the best way, like Artoo musing about the different droid personalities that make up the Falcon — one of them apparently has a hankering for “romantic gossip and dirty jokes”. Let the spin-off fics begin!).

And since it’s what I probably care most about, I’ll say this... he nailed Leia. I’m not sure I can articulate it all right now, I’m sitting here still stunned and processing... but I’m really, incredibly grateful for that.

There was a scene at the end between Leia and Chewbacca that I won’t go into too much detail about so I don’t spoil it (if you’re curious message me or I’ll post about it under a cut at some point), but it was so perfect and moving and needed that it actually made me cry (and despite my frequent tags that might give a different impression due to their hyperbole, that’s a rare occurrence).

Anyway, there’s my mini review. I’m not sure what everyone’s saying about it bc I haven’t been paying much attention, but for what it’s worth, I enjoyed it greatly. I wasn’t completely without objections, but overall it was beautiful and moving and imho a fantastic adaptation.

[hngrylikethewoolf]

Wanna Be Yours || Eros Crack AU

IN WHICH...Sav & Lauren created a really cool AU for NaNo and then we forgot to post it sO: Errol Woolf was shipped off to the states when he was a young man after the military, moved to New York, and met a little punk ass named Roscoe Sykes. The rest, as they say, is history. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Smut...just...yeah, probably also conflict of interest bc Roscoe is in the mob, gun mentions & awful puns

@roscoexsykes

ERROL: 

A stray beam of sunlight cut across the bed, forcing the man tangled in the sheets to curl in on himself, lest he wanted to see spots for the next hour. As it was, he could already tell the spot beside him had long gone cold.

Errol heaved a sigh and rolled to the side of the bed, bare feet hitting hardwoods. He winced at the cold, one of the downsides of living in this fucking city, before levering himself to his feet. There was already a pot of coffee brewed, a note on a pad of paper beside him making him smile as he sipped at his first cup of the day. 

He'd probably have another five or six more come the end of his day. 

He dressed in his uniform quickly after a workout and shower, intent on being out of the cold and in his car in under five minutes, Delilah harnessed and on her leash. It wasn't very hard, given how he worked once he had coffee coursing through his veins, but the New York winters were unforgiving and his body liked to remind him of that fact more and more frequently. 

Parking near the station and walking, covering up his uniform with a thick, black jacket, gloves, and a beanie hat was a near daily occurrence but it was one he stuck to this time of year. The moment he made it through District 12's doors, he stamped the snow off his boots and got to work, the German Shepherd trotting at his side, looking through his call log and waiting for something to come over the radio while he cruised around the city. 

That finally happened about mid-morning, something routine but in need of a K9 and, what's more, he'd been requested. 

He figured out why the moment he stepped out of his patrol car. 

ROSCOE:

To be fair - Roscoe hadn’t been the one that fucked up this time. Neither had DeSoto. For once in their life, the twins had a very clear reputation (or at least, on this job). It was the stupid rookie that had gotten them, the idiot panicking under the pressure of the heist and bolting. Better yet, he’d bolted through the goddamn door of the place they’d been meeting for the deal, and yes, while the location was supposed to be secure, it was only because the mark was an employee who had back door access. 

Not front. 

So when little pansy-ass Richard had taken off and slammed open the front door, he’d set the alarm off in the store, and everything had happened at once. One, their mark had taken off himself, leaving DeSoto and himself standing in the middle of the fucking store as the owner barged in from where they’d apparently already been on their way in. 

Excellent. 

It also hadn’t taken long for the rag-tag gang of young irishmen to see what was going on and get involved too. So within a mere few minutes, chaos had erupted within the entire block, and soon people were scattering just about every which way as sirens rang out throughout the city streets. 

Tossing a look towards his brother, Roscoe ran as quick as he could, stooping only to sweep up the product their local idiot had dropped on his way before he nodded towards the barely older man - a silent agreement for them to split up and find their way back home in order to avoid the fuzz. And well… that plan had been working all too well until the squad car pulled up on the street in front of him - his gaze raising to the officer who’d stepped out as his lip curled back in a grimace. 

Fuck. 

For a brief second, Roscoe only stared, meeting the man’s gaze before his lips turned up in a smirk instead, offering but a small parting wink before Roscoe turned on his heel and headed towards the nearest alleyway. 

ERROL: 

Of course it was Sykes. Of fucking course it was. 

Idiot. He could see the grimace from halfway down the block. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Errol rounded the other side of the car and opened Delilah's door, attaching her leash as soon as she touched down to the sidewalk, glancing back over his shoulder long enough to catch the stupid smirk and the wink. 

Radioing in a minute or two after the man disappeared down the alleyway, stating that DeSoto had been sighted and would be making his way back home a few streets over (because, if anything, he was the predictable one), Errol set off after Roscoe moments later, Delilah already tugging on her lead, impatient to start working.  

Shaking his head, Errol trotted quick-like alongside her, eyes moving back and forth as he made his way from the mouth of the alleyway and further in. Once they were far enough away from their car, he unclipped the German Shepherd and stuffed the lead in his vest pocket, eyes tracking her movements as she made a direct run for a door at the end of the side-street they'd come out onto, nearly two and half blocks from where they'd started. 

Jogging up moments behind her, Errol pushed the door open with a shake of his head as the dog bounded into the room, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Clearly she wasn't concerned. 

"Yous is gonna get yerself shot one o' these days, Ros, an' I ain't gonna apologize," he called, grinning to himself as he listened to his partner's paws echoing in the empty room. 

A moment later she started barking and Errol grinned to himself. Gotcha. 

ROSCOE: 

Roscoe was highly aware of the fact the officer wouldn’t be alone. He knew Errol - and knew what kind of officer he was, knew the dog he’d be toting along with him. Which was why he didn’t hesitate to run as soon as possible. Though to be fair, he’d slowled tremendously when he’d nearly wiped out in the unsalted alley, his boots barely catching a grip upon the slush before he stumbled into the door of a building. 

A good enough place to hide for him - and with that, the man shouldered it open, slamming it shut behind him as he heaved out a heavy breath. It hung in the air for a moment, the heating obviously not currently on before Roscoe moved again, boots once again slipping against a now wet tile as he pressed further into the building. It wasn’t nearly bright enough to disconcert where the hell another exit would be, and as soon as he heard the sound of paws coming his way, Roscoe could only quickly shove himself into the nearest door and close it quickly behind him - even if the click of the lock sounded like an explosion in the silent room. 

Eyes rolled almost immediately as he heard the officer call out, grimacing as an agitated sigh slipped from his lips. Talk talk talk. As if the man had ever fucking pulled a gun on him. 

S L A M 

 Roscoe physically jumped when the dog jumped against the door behind him, immediately sounding off with a series of deep barks as another curse fell from Roscoe’s lips. Flipping on the light, Roscoe realized with...some relief that he’d locked himself into a bathroom. The downside of that being there was no other way out. Fuck. Desperately digging his hands into his pockets, Roscoe pulled out the stash he’d secured from the job, his gaze bouncing between it and the toilet. God fucking damn it. He internally cursed, maneuvering to lift the lid of the toilet’s tank up - dropping the bag into the water tank before pressing the lid back down as quietly as he could. It was an alternative to flushing it down the damn bowl anyways - and gave him a chance to possibly recover it. Though..he had a feeling he was about to have company in 3….2...1. 

ERROL: 

Jogging quickly through the building, gun drawn as he quickly swept each room he passed, just in case, Errol found Delilah. It was easy enough, she was loud and big and happened to be bounding against the only closed door in this hall. 

Because apparently Roscoe hasn't been thinking about anything but finding a hiding spot. Calling the dog off with a sharp command and a tug of the handle on her harness, Errol listened for a moment before sighing and carefully slipping his gun back into its holster. 

Then, he kicked the door open, just because he could. 

"Yah know," he started, leaning against the door jamb and nodding toward the toilet behind the other man, "yous ain’t subtle. Coulda at least closed a few more doors, made it a bit more difficult. Del knew where yous were th' whole time." 

Said German Shepherd, noting that her handler was at ease, sat panting beside him, looking to him for her next command. If they hadn't been at work, she would've been asking for belly rubs from the other man. 

"Least yous picked a decent hiding spot this time though, even if yous couldn't get out. Can try if yah want, though. Won't even arrest yah fer assaultin' an officer." 

The grin on his face was, strictly speaking, unprofessional, as was the way he wiggled his brows at the other man but nothing about their acquaintance was professional, anyway. 

ROSCOE:

Ah - and there he was, the predictable idiot of the hour. Roscoe sighed so incredibly deeply as Errol spoke, his gaze momentarily avoiding the other’s as he crossed his arms over his chest. “...Yous act like I actually had time t’fuckin’ aplan an elaborate escape.” He argued with a raise of his brow, finally letting his gaze settle back on the officer, his eyes looking him up and down as his lips pulled back into a sneer. 

“That’s kind of yous though. Think that offer will stick when I knock that smug ass look off your ugly mug?” The Italian tempted, tilting his head with a smile that clearly showed his distaste for the entire situation he was in. 

Still, he had an act to play, didn’t he?

“I ain’t even in the mood, you know.” Roscoe dismissed, letting his gaze drop to the ground before he offered his hands out with a shrug of his shoulders. “I mean… do we’s really gotta waste time? It’s clear where this is going and… I got a headache, man. Let’s just get this shit over with.” Roscoe ‘pleaded’, gesturing again with his arms as if he was waiting for Errol to come and cuff him. 

Which - actually, thanks for asking, was exactly what Roscoe was waiting for, because this was a route in which Roscoe hadn’t tried yet. He’d attempted running a lot of times, he’d attempted hiding. He’d gone the route of fighting until he was physically restrained just about every week. Conceding though? No, that wasn’t something Roscoe had ever decided to do, so… might as well be today, right? 

All Errol had to do was put the cuffs on him. 

Then again - Roscoe was also just waiting, because the very second Errol even moved to do so, Roscoe was absolutely going to throw his weight forward and knock the man against the wall as hard as he could. 

ERROL: 

Yeah, because that wasn't suspicious at all. 

But he would absolutely be considering handcuffs, thank you very much. 

"Yeahhh that ain't what yous said earlier but fine." He hooked his cuffs with a finger and wiggled them at the other man, squaring himself up in the doorway. 

Just in case. 

Rolling his eyes at the quip about his face, too, for good measure, purely because he knew it would bug the other man. "Yous done bein' an ass," Errol asked as he stepped closer, Delilah just behind and to his right, ears pricked forward as she considered the two men in the bathroom. "Jus' gimme yer hands, Ros." 

He didn't say please, though it was a near thing. Errol knew there was a dance they had to do, roles they had to play, but he'd rather one or the both of them didn't end up with a black eye or something that needed to be treated at a hospital. 

Then he considered it and he sighed, put the cuffs on the grimy half-counter, and gestured to his jaw. "Hit me. Go on. We's gotta make it look convincin'." Errol tossed a lopsided grin his way then said, "'Sides, what's a few bruises, huh?" 

ROSCOE: 

For the record - Roscoe was not done being an ass. That would actually require an act of god, and… well there was not about to be a full miracle performance today. He did listen though, eyeing Errol and putting his hands out, just willing him closer and closer in his head until he was just close enough to strike. 

Before he could reach that point though, the man stopped and Roscoe drew back slightly, his brows knitting in confusion. The second he realize what the man was doing though he scoffed with a roll of his eyes. 

“How incredibly noble.” Roscoe remarked, eyeing the other man before he glanced to the side with a soft sigh. Well, if he insists. 

However, instead of striking the man’s jaw like requested, Roscoe struck out, aiming for Errol’s stomach before he shoved him roughly against the wall, his fist balling up in the officer’s uniform before Roscoe roughly gripped Errol’s chin and forced him to look in his direction. 

It was only then that Roscoe moved forward and stole a kiss from the officer’s lips, his fingers tightening in the front of the man’s bulletproof vest as he pressed him harder back against the wall - the younger man only pulling away after a moment, nipping Errol’s lip roughly between his teeth. 

ERROL: 

The one time Roscoe decided to listen and it happened to be when he was cornered in some grimy bathroom. Of course. Because that was just how these things went for them, right? 

And he didn't even listen well. Granted, that meant Errol wouldn't have a tender face come tomorrow morning, but his stomach lurched all the same, no matter if it was Roscoe rushing him and throwing him into a wall. 

The hit winded him all the same and his hands still came up to wrap into the fabric of the other man's shirt, as much a self-preservation instinct as it was anything else. Even still, Roscoe still got a hand on his chin and jerked it roughly to the side. 

Then he was being kissed and, really, he couldn't complain just then. 

Returning the bruising kiss with as good as he was given, Errol tilted his head and moved one of his hands to tug at a fistful of Roscoe’s hair, grumbling beneath his breath when the younger man tugged at his lip. 

Errol still chased after it, regardless of the grumbling, and tugged the other man in closer by the grip he had on his hair, lips dragging across the curve of his jaw. 

ROSCOE: 

The hand in his hair drew a gasp, Roscoe's own tightening in the man's shirt as he smirked against Errol's lips. So quickly had his thoughts been derailed, instead replaced with the thought of how close his body pressed to the other's, how desperate the kiss was between them - as if they'd been a part for more than just the few hours they'd both been at work that morning. 

He didn't even resist when Errol pulled him back, his opposite hand moving to hold himself up slightly, pressed against the wall aside of the officer's head as he pressed closer, giving the softest little noise at the man's kiss against his jaw - Roscoe only fighting to kiss his lips once more, just as hungrily. 

It was only when he finally needed to come up for air that Roscoe pulled away - keeping his hand latched to the other man's chest as a heavy few breaths slipped from parted lips. Easily, a mischievous smirk pressed back into Roscoe's features, the man leaning forward again to press his lips to Errol's neck, dragging them against his skin as he nipped teasingly, before he sucked at the skin, drawing a bruise to the surface before he pulled back with a smug nod. 

"...what's a few bruises…. right?"

ERROL: 

 With Roscoe's hand braced beside his head against the wall, it gave Errol the perfect access he needed to drag his teeth lightly from the curve of his jaw down across the side of his neck, landing against the juncture where fabric covered the curve of his shoulder. 

A small smile curled around his mouth at the noises he'd pulled from the other man, a hint proud of himself for it. Truth be told it was one of his favorite sounds, the small ones, but you'd never hear him saying that aloud. 

Not here anyway, even if it was just Delilah present. 

Before he could think to back the dog up, Ros had that look on his face, the kind that meant Errol was either getting fucked up because he was going to do something stupid or Roscoe was going to pull one of his ususal--

It was the second one. 

"Yous a dick, yah know that," he huffed, but it was a feeble attempt at putting up a fight and they both knew it. But two could play at this little game of theirs. Wedging his knee between the other man's leg, Errol used his grip on the back of his neck to pitch him off balance, enough where he could slide out from underneath him and behind. 

Plastered at his back now, Errol tucked his chin into the pocket between Roscoe's neck and shoulder and hummed, one hand coming free to drag the edge of his shirt down. "Gettin' slow, Ros," he murmured, pressing biting kisses into the back of his neck and shoulder blades when he moved, a hard one just beneath his jaw line, hidden until you really squint. "But I s'pose yous don't mind, hm?" 

ROSCOE: 

The game of cat and mouse was something the pair had long since fallen into - a well rehearsed play that both of them knew their parts in. Sure, they slipped up here and there but for the most part it was how this whole thing worked. It was exactly how they operated and how it needed to go. Otherwise their game would have been over before it started. The things that would have happened to Roscoe should his brother or father find out that not only was he hooking up with a man, but that he was hooking up with an Irish cop to boot. 

Might as well sign off on his will now. 

Roscoe’s laugh easily tapered into a gasp of surprise as Errol shifted them far too quickly, a grunt of annoyance slipping from him as the man pressed him against the wall and pressed his weight against him. Glaring over his shoulder, Roscoe shoved back against him lightly, his nails curling against the grime in the wall. 

For all his might he tried to look irritated, his gaze only hardening for a moment but too easy was it derailed at the man’s rough kisses - Roscoe biting down on another soft noise as he sighed through his nose. 

“...shut it.” He mumbled, relaxing slightly when he realized it wasn’t any use trying to push Errol off of him anyways. “...Think what yous meant to say was yous don’t mind. Get the feelin’ I mind an awful lot quite frankly.” Untrue. “...Ain’t yous call in for backup? Bit of a… compromisin’ position for someone to walk into ain’t it?” 

ERROL: 

Yes, he was feeling rather smug at the moment, truth be told. A bit like the cat that got the cream, in a way. 

He knew how this worked, how they needed it to work, not only for his job but for Roscoe's safety, too, and it was a fine balancing act, something that they'd figured out early on and stuck to. Even still, it was sometimes hard to ignore the wanting, the fact that Ros couldn't just stay the night, that Errol couldn't. That they couldn't do a lot of things in public unless they went to dinner somewhere two or three towns over, maybe more. 

But, it was worth it, in the end or, at least, it felt like it was. 

Roscoe pushed back into him a bit and Errol came forward, nipping at the shell of his ear and humming some nonsensical tune until the other man relaxed, one of the officer's hands curled at his hip, the other, the one that had his shirt, moving to tug the door somewhat closed on its swaying hinges. 

Something like privacy, even if they were in some grungy abandoned building with a police K9 panting just behind the door. 

"Oh I know I don't mind. An' yous a liar sayin' yous do or yah wouldn't be here, Ros." Which was the truth. The other man had been getting away from the police for years just fine. It wasn't like this whole situation was new. 

Well. Some parts of it, sure. 

"Mm nope. Said yous was an easy enough catch fer a single car, redirected backup th' other way. We's got a few minutes." A hand skimmed beneath the hem of the other man's shirt, then, nails scratching lightly at the skin as lips trailed softly down and across to the other side of Roscoe’s neck. "If yous want, anyway. Or we can jus' put yah in 'cuffs an' toe it outta here." 

ROSCOE: 

Errol kicked the door closed and Roscoe felt himself smirk lightly, pressing back against the other man lightly again as a soft chuckle slipped from his lips. It was cute, after all, the way the man was either clearly just shielding them from Delilah - or thought that merely inching the door closed would keep any of his bastard cop friends out if they rushed the building. 

Though he supposed it bought them at least a moment more time before someone would see them in any sort of predicament - and that was what mattered the most. 

“..maybe m’just gettin’ rusty.” Roscoe tried to argue - though they both knew that wasn’t the case. If the man wanted to get away? He would have been long gone by now - Errol was right. Roscoe was only here because he wanted to be. 

The younger man swallowed slightly when he felt the officer’s finger tips scratch lightly against his abdomen, his gaze shifting over his shoulder to watch Errol carefully. He was teasing him - Roscoe knew that. It was typical of him, and god if Roscoe wasn’t so damn irritated that he could wind him up so easily with so little. 

All it took was the briefest touch of skin to skin contact - the ghosting of his lips against far too sensitive areas and Roscoe’s mind was already made up. 

“...we have a few minutes.” He repeated - an agreement to the former of the options as he caught Errol’s gaze and lifted his lips in the smallest hint of a smirk. “...make your move, stud.” 

ERROL: 

A grin was pressed against the back of Roscoe’s neck when he heard the little laugh. There was always something satisfying about the sound, like pulling it out of him was a competition and he won every time he heard it. This wasn't any different, though his pulse jumped more now with the adrenaline of it all than it usually did, when they were alone and didn't have to worry that someone would come walking in and bust everything apart. 

"Sure, sure. Rusty, slow, don't matter. Same thing in th' end, ain't?" 

Drawing back a bit when Ros glanced over his shoulder, Errol met the small smirk with one of his own, the palm of his hand pressing flat against his stomach, thumb drawing lazy circles into the skin as he waited. That smirk turned into a grin before he stepped back a bit, urging the other man to turn with the hand under his shirt. 

He was pressed in close a few seconds later, catching Roscoe’s chin with a hand to press a hard kiss to the corner of his mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at the seam of his lips. His free hand roamed indiscriminately along the other man's torso, scratching along the divots of hips and hooking a thumb into the waistband of his pants to tug him closer.

ROSCOE:

The words seemed impatient, almost as if Errol was waving him off verbally - and Roscoe couldn’t help but to laugh at it. Clearly the man’s mind was in the exact same place that Roscoe’s was now too - and there would be no changing that. Which was fine, this was a gameplan that Roscoe could absolutely get into. Now...what happened when all the fun was said and done? Well, that probably depended on the other man’s mood and...was a bridge they’d cross when they got there. 

As for the moment, Roscoe turned in the other man’s arms, pressing his back up against the wall as he reached down and tugged Errol closer as well. Almost immediately his hands were dipping against the waistband of the officer’s pants, his hands methodically avoiding his holster, pepper spray and other gadgets as his fingertips teased the skin just beneath his waist. 

His opposite hand followed Errol’s lead, working its way under the man’s shirt and vest (a pesky thing in these situations unfortunately) as his nails dug lightly into his abdomen, dragging down softly as Roscoe tilted his head lightly against the man’s lips. 

“...feelin’ pent up already?” The younger man mumbled against Errol’s jaw - teeth dragging against his skin before he pressed a soothing kiss there afterwards. 

ERROL: 

As Errol quickly found out dealing with Roscoe, unzipping a man's pants one handed was a skill, and it was one he'd quickly had to perfect. The man was handsy and impatient and Errol refused to admit he enjoyed every single second of it, even if it was probably not as subtle an enjoyment as he believed it to be. 

Even now he was grateful for Roscoe and his damn hands. Grateful that he didn't feel like he had to worry about his gear being so close to those hands, not like he had been when this had all started. When every time he and Roscoe came crashing together and Errol was on duty he was jittery. Ready to jump out of his own skin. 

Pressing into the hand dragging against his chest, a huff of laughter escaped him as he worked his hand into the front of Roscoe's pants, angled his own head to give the other man access to his jaw, knowing he probably shouldn't. 

This was what he carried cover-up around for, after all. 

"Little bit," he mumbled, giving the other man a bit of a squeeze before smirking at him, "but I see yous ain't far along yerself."

ROSCOE: 

Roscoe was intent - his mind was set on something and he was going to fucking get it. That was how it worked. Roscoe was a brat, a spoiled, selfish brat, and he would be the first to admit that, but it didn’t matter. There was no need to when it was obvious in the way his hands pulled fabric up, exposing the man’s midriff more and more before his fingers dove back down to fiddle with Errol’s zipper. 

It didn’t take long to get it undone, loosening his pants before Roscoe’s hands dipped under the fabric on both sides of his hips and yanked him forward roughly. His nails dug into the skin right in Errol’s inguinal crease - the thing driving Roscoe absolutely crazy whenever Errol happened to wear low-rising pants without a shirt on. 

With the tilt of Errol’s jaw, Roscoe couldn’t help but smirk again, knowing it was almost a stupid manuever for the officer to pull, but clearly he didn’t care. So Roscoe didn’t hesitate to start darkening the skin there, leaving a small series of marks against his skin before a small gasp slipped through his lips at the other’s touch. 

Leaning carefully into him, Roscoe pulled back just enough to meet the older man’s gaze. “...well I ain’t ever said I wasn’t armed.” Roscoe all but purred, a hand slipping around Errol’s waist and dipping to squeeze at his ass with a mirrored smirk of his own. 

ERROL: 

Any attempt at protesting his uniform being untucked and his pants coming undone was definitely going to fall on deaf ears and, as it were, Errol really couldn't give a shit. In fact, he gave less than two shots about it. 

All that mattered right now was the way Roscoe’s hands pawed at his hips beneath the fabric, fingernails biting into the skin, and the way he leaned into his chest, impatient and insistent as always. 

Rocking back slightly into the other man's hands, Errol snorted at the godawful line and that bratty ass smirk on Roscoe's face, shaking his head as he shifted on his feet. Angling his head to suck a few marks down the side of Roscoe’s neck to his ear, Errol tugged at the lobe with his teeth before he pulled back entirely to meet the other man's gaze 

"Yous a brat, yah know that, right," he said, but the smile on his face was disgustingly charmed by that fact. It wasn't a complaint. In fact, it was almost fond. "Biggest pain in my ass." 

ROSCOE: 

Tilting his head more as Errol pressed his lips to the side of his neck, Roscoe gave a small hum - one that easily tapered as the man’s teeth nipped gently at his ear. His brows raised easily at the other’s words, taking them in with a small innocent shrug. Was Roscoe a brat? Yes… Yes he was, and really there was no question about it. He wasn’t about to deny what was clearly factual. In fact it only made him smile, breathing out a huff of a laugh as he leaned back against the wall. 

His hands never stopped exploring - pinching at exposed skin before he tucked his fingers back into the man’s waistband and pulled him forward again, pressing the other man tightly against him as he shifted to press a line of kisses across his jawline. 

“...Yeah?” He belatedly responded, scratching his nails into Errol’s hip as he worked on darkening another patch of skin on the officer’s neck. 

“...Yous gonna do something about it then?” He challenged, pulling away to look Errol in the eye with that hint of mischief he was so well known for. “...or are yous just all talk?”

ERROL: 

Oh, he was going to do something about it. 

 The nails on his skin were just a touch distracting, was all. And he had to pause to listen for his radio, the chatter on the other end. Just 'cause he'd sent a little hint off about DeSoto didn't mean the man was dumb enough to be caught this time around.

Errol wished he was but, alas, wishes didn't always come true. 

Humming like he was thinking about it, Errol’s eyes slid halfway closed as he was pulled closer, as Roscoe's mouth continued bothering at his neck. Goddamned mosquito. "Thinkin' about it," he finally says, but he's already undone the button of Roscoe's pants and tugged them open the rest of the way, got the flat of his palm pressed hard into his groin and squeezed. 

He'd definitely stopped thinking about it. 

"Yous gonna quit tryin' tah suck me off--" yes, he knew exactly how that sounded, "an' gimme a helpin' hand or?" He didn't expect one, actually, never really did, but he wanted something to kneel on. 

Didn't really feel like explaining away dirty knees to his supervisor. 

ROSCOE: 

Roscoe bit down on a noise when Errol palmed at him, his entire body flinching a bit at the touch, even if it was both expected as well as wanted. His hips shifted forward a bit, pressing closer as he smirked at the officer’s words. “...Don’t act like yous don’t like it.” He dismissed, raising a hand to tip his chin up with a smile before he glanced around the room quickly. 

For a moment his gaze landed on the toilet - and internally he reminded himself not to forget his drugs when all this was said and done. However, there were more important matters at hand (and extremely important matters in one particular hand) that Roscoe wanted to get back to and… well without going to far. Easily, his eyes landed on a cabinet within arms reach, the man pressing up against the other man with a smirk as he shifted to tease open the already damaged door under the sink. 

“...Coulda done this yourself y’know.” He pointed out, giving the other man shit (as he liked to do literally any waking minute of the day) as he pressed forward and around the other just briefly enough to reach in and pull out a handful of dusty, but neatly folded hand towels. Giving them a little shake, Roscoe turned back to Errol with a smirk, moving to set them down (slightly carefully) between them before his gaze raised once more with a quick wink. “...Happy now?” 

ERROL: 

Smile bright and sharp and just this side of too pleased with himself, Errol let the other man maneuver around him to grab for a set of dusty old towels someone had left behind. Good thing, too, because he'd been about ready to kneel on Roscoe's fucking shoes. 

One, because that's what was there but, two, because they were nice and Errol knew he would've hated it. Just a little bit. 

"Very," he mumbled, pushing the man back into the cabinets before kneeling down in front of him, a lopsided grin firmly in place. His hands slid down the breadth of Roscoe’s thighs, griping to steady himself as he leaned forward and bit the inside of one of them. 

Just to be a bastard, really. 

Errol hummed as one hand snaked upward and drew him from his pants, fingers wrapped loosely around the shaft as he tilted his face up to look Roscoe in the face as his mouth trailed slowly upward. 

The weight of him against his tongue was familiar, just like the smirk that curled around the corners of his own mouth as he winked at the other man.

ROSCOE:

If it was anyone else, just for the record, Roscoe wouldn’t have taken lightly to the push back to the cabinet. Of course, the pair had been doing nothing short of pushing and shoving each other this entire time, but… Errol was the only one who really had permission to do that without risking getting punched upside the head. He was also the only one who would ever get to get that control over him like this. To lead - instead of be led. 

So Roscoe could only chuckle as Errol sank down to his knees - though once again the man caught him off guard with the nip to his thigh, Roscoe flinching back again before he pressed his fingers through the other man’s hair and tug roughly in retaliation. 

It was only a teasing motion though, one he was sure drove the cop below him crazy, and so Roscoe easily kept his digits tangled within his locks, nails scratching gently against his scalp as a soft moan slipped through his lips at Errol’s touch. 

He would probably never get used to the feeling - that electric feeling that surged through him when that heat surrounded sensitive skin, drawing another soft huff from his lips. The fact he’d barely done anything and he was already slowly unraveling. 

“...Fuck..” He breathed out, giving another loose tug to the man’s hair as he nodded his head gently, giving permission for something he knew the other didn’t even need. 

ERROL: 

The moan that came from the depths of his chest when Roscoe pulled on the strands of his hair was muffled by the weight of him in his mouth, but it rumbled through them both tellingly. The fact that Roscoe left them there, a guide more than anything, was enough to spur him on. 

Hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head, Errol anchored himself by the grip he had on the back of the other man's thighs, one hand curling his fingers into Roscoe's back pocket. He ignored the aching in his knees, too engrossed in what he was doing to really care. 

Building a steady rhythm took little work and, soon, Errol was humming in the back of his throat, fingers curled tightly into the fabric beneath his hands to keep from moving them. 

When his mouth popped off the head, a string of spit connected them still. He didn't care. Rather than level him back into his mouth, Errol pressed feather-light kisses along the underside of the shaft and traced a path along the vein at the underside, nose burrowed at the crook of his hip when he paused to breathe for a moment before taking him back in and speeding up his work tenfold.

ROSCOE: 

It annoyed him - How easily Errol could unravel him with what came down to the simplest motions, but it was with careful practice and time that the officer had managed to find just about all the buttons that he could push, all the things that managed to make Roscoe tick, and it was a useful bag of tricks that evidently the other man never failed to pull out. If anything, it always made sure Roscoe was always on his toes. 

The bastard. 

A soft gasp left his lips as he tightened the grip in the other man’s hair, head falling back against the grimy tiled wall as he dug his teeth roughly into his own lip to keep the pleasured sounds from slipping out - as if trying to keep the smug look Errol always got off his features. 

It was a useless attempt though, as a breathless moan still found its way free as once again Roscoe tugged at Errol’s hair - a quick and non-verbal warning that he was getting close. Not that he thought the older man cared. If anything he figured it would only spur his movements on, make him move faster and more precisely to drag Roscoe even closer to the edge. 

He’d always liked toying with him like that. 

“...Errol.” Finally came his name, ground out roughly between a breath of a moan as Roscoe shifted slightly on his heels, gaze finding its way back down towards the other man as his fingers curled easily against his scalp - gently scratching at skin as he tugged upon his locks. 

ERROL: 

Yes, Errol was rather proud of himself for how quickly he could make this man come undone, but he was more proud of the fact that it was him doing it. 

Believe him when he said that if you'd told him a few years ago he and the son of a mafia boss would be running around like two teenagers behind his dad's back, Errol would have decked you. 

And yet...here they were. 

Smirking, the officer flicked his tongue across the head, trying to get the show on the road as fast as humanly possible. They were on a time crunch, after all. And he had his own little problem to take care of, if time permitted. 

ROSCOE:

The other man didn't move away at his warning - which, in theory didn’t come as a surprise. He almost never did. Roscoe tightened his grip in the older man’s hair as another ragged breath slipped from his lips, shoulders pressing against the cracked drywall of the shitty bathroom. Too easily did Errol draw his name from Roscoe once more in a rough moan as he felt the knot within his stomach tighten with every purposeful touch and movement. 

His fingers tightened within the locks of Errol’s hair as he finished with a short thrust into the other man’s mouth, biting down on a moan as he felt that knot dissipate with the sweet height of his pleasure - something he had a love, hate relationship with. On one hand, Errol always knew how to drag the best feelings out of him, but on the other? He fucking hated that. Hated the office could undo him so easily, but he knew they were both wrapped right around each other’s fingers. At least it was on common ground… Which was why Roscoe wasn’t going to hesitate to rile Errol up the very same way he’d done to him. 

Gently, he tugged Errol’s hair again, signaling for him to move as he pulled his hips back. As soon as he could, Roscoe pressed forward and pressed his lips against the other man’s, his teeth drawing against Errol’s lip as he fumbled against the other’s shirt, finding purchase. 

As soon as they did, Roscoe’s fingers balled up tightly in Errol’s uniform, flipping them and pushing the older man roughly back against the very wall Roscoe himself had just been pressed against. It was then that he easily dug his fingers back below the officer’s waistband, intent on returning the favor here and now.  

He didn’t get too far before he heard it though - the sound of distant footprints, the opening of a door and the hesitant call of Errol’s name from someone Roscoe didn’t recognize. 

Fucking son of a bitch. 

Roscoe paused for only a moment, disappointment and irritation clear on his features before he moved again quickly, shoving the other man back into his pants (sorry, bud) and zipping him up before he stood to better fix himself (a little disorganization was fine, nothing a scuffle couldn’t cover). 

“...I owe you a raincheck.” He spoke quietly, stealing one more quick kiss while he could before he stepped away with a short glance to the other man. “...No hard feelings.” Roscoe added then, a slightly apologetic look tossed in his direction before Roscoe shoved Errol hard against the wall, faking a fight while they still had the chance. 

ERROL: 

Errol swallowed as best he could, moaning around the other man as he felt the thighs underneath his hands shake with Roscoe’s orgasm. The hands in his hair didn’t help, either, but he wasn’t being picky, aight? 

He was all too quickly dragged up and off, their positions flipped and Roscoe’s tongue shoved halfway down his throat. The man’s hands were sinful, tugging and pulling at Errol’s uniform as he pressed him back against the grubby cabinetry. Really, they needed to find a better place to do this shit like, yah know, Errol’s apartment. Or, more memorably, that one time they’d snuck into Roscoe’s dad’s house like a pair of teenagers. 

Errol’d been scared to death over the fact that if they were caught, he was dead, but the pleasure had, ahem, outweighed the smart voice in his brain. Truly, he was stupid over the man if he’d agreed to sneak into a mob boss’s house just for that. 

(No one tell him.) 

They’d just started getting the show on the road, Errol’s hips pressing incessantly against the palm that had curled around the front of his pants, when a familiar voice called out through the emptiness of the building. 

Son of a bitch. 

The officer bit into the side of his cheek until he tasted blood, willing himself not to look too pissed off, too aroused. The static on his radio chirped; no doubt, the other officer had called it in and when there’d been no response he’d gone looking. Errol’s face was screwed up into a scowl as Ros shoved him back into his pants and leaned in for a quick kiss. 

“Yeah yah do,” he grumbled, before giving a short nod and gritting his teeth, knowing what was coming. The shove was hard and he was going to be feeling it for at least another week, but it gave him the opening Roscoe knew he’d need to grab a hold of him, flipping their position easily after a short scuffle, throwing one another into a few walls for good measure, and slipping the handcuffs (gently) onto his wrists. 

When they exited the room, Errol called down to his fellow officer, waving him off when the man came close, gun drawn. The entire time Delilah had sat outside, head on her paws. As Roscoe was shoved into another patrol car a short while later, Errol heaved a sigh and tried to fix the set of his clothes, knowing that he could hide his little problem with a bit of a limp and no one would know. 

They’d done it before, after all, and they’d do it again. 

That was love. 

[butsomeofusarelookingatthestars]

lukexreader in which the reader is a forensic linguist working w/ the bureau; she keeps getting invited to join the bau but denies every time, bc she doesn’t want to work w/ her boyfriend (as she believes it might put a strain onto the relationship), so luke and the others try to convince her (eventually she accepts)

Fraternisation

Fandom: Criminal MindsPairing: Luke Alvez x ReaderPrompt: Request

Description: Joining the BAU was your dream, but was it worth risking your relationship and professional reputation

“Are you trying to avoid me?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you continued to focus on the file in front of you. It wasn’t an easy task to ignore your persistent boyfriend and his pleading eyes, but you were a professional. You had a job to do.

“I’m trying to work Luke.” You replied quietly, your eyes scanning the paper for clues and information that could help provide new insight for the cold case the BAU had called you in to work on.

It wasn’t the first time you had received the invitation to work with the team. In fact, it had become a frequent occurrence for you to assist to unit with their heavy caseload. You were only too happy to offer your services given your interest in behavioural analysis.

Of course, you loved your job in counterterrorism. Being a foreign linguist with the FBI had always been a dream of yours and achieving it was something you were immensely proud of. However, there was something about the BAU that you found highly intriguing.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t slightly jealous of your boyfriend for his role in the unit.

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t also received an invitation to join the BAU. But, you just felt that it would be fairly inappropriate for you to be a part of the same team as your boyfriend.

Not only could it have potential complications for your professional life, but it could also threaten your love life. It wasn’t the easiest job in the world and your hectic schedules already placed a significant strain on your and Luke’s relationship.

What if you couldn’t handle the added stress of working so closely alongside each other?

However, it appeared as if breaking fraternisation rules was the last thing on Luke’s mind as he grinned cheekily at you. You flashed him a warning glare as he approached your desk, his hands hovering dangerously close to your waist.

“Agent Alvez, you’re being highly inappropriate.” You whispered quietly, glancing around to ensure there were no prying eyes on the two of you. Your breath hitched slightly in your throat as you felt Luke’s fingers brush teasingly against your hip.

“I’d be on my best behaviour if you joined the team.” Luke replied, murmuring softly into your area as he gently laced his fingers through yours.

You looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity of his words. It had been a frequent topic of debate between the two of you. But, you didn’t realise how much Luke actually wanted you to join the BAU. Before you could open your mouth to respond, a loud cough interrupted you.

“Does this mean you’re accepting my latest offer Agent Y/L/N?”

You immediately shot away from Luke, gripping the folder tightly in both hands as you smiled apologetically at Prentiss. Her lips were curved upwards in a knowing smirk as she folded her arms, surveying the two of you with curiosity.

Sometimes you really hated being around profilers.

“Sorry Agent Prentiss, I was just reviewing the cold case for you.” You told her, trying to bite back the smile threatening to break out across your face as you felt Luke’s gaze on you.

Prentiss sighed slightly as she rolled her eyes in amusement. “You know it would be a lot easier if you just joined the team. I wouldn’t have to put a call in every time I needed your assistance…and Alvez wouldn’t be wandering around the bureau looking for you every lunch time.”

Her teasing words caused your cheeks to flush. Luke chuckled warmly behind you, acknowledging the truth behind her words. In fact, in addition to the professional benefits your promotion would have for you, the prospect of having you sit across from him in the bullpen and be by his side on the jet was what made him certain that you should accept Prentiss’ offer.

“Are we pestering Y/N about joining again?” JJ asked, smiling warmly at you as she and the rest of the team entered the bullpen.

Everyone laughed softly as you blushed furiously, slightly embarrassed by all the attention now on you. Although you loved your bureau colleagues, you didn’t appreciate being tag teamed.

“We’d be lucky to have you.” Rossi told you sincerely, winking at you as he perched on a nearby desk. The older agent’s words meant a lot to you considering his reputation and experience in the FBI.

Were you crazy to turn down the opportunity to work with him and his esteemed team?

“Yeah, you’re my favourite crime-solving, ass-kicking foreign linguist.” Garcia chipped in, nudging you playfully as she grinned happily. “Besides, you’d make a much better addition than Newbie here.”

You heard Luke scoff scornfully at her comment. The bickering between the two of them was highly amusing to watch in action. Before they could launch into a full-blown exchange, Matt thankfully interrupted.

“I’ve heard a lot about you Agent Y/L/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He told you kindly, nodding towards you as he took a seat nearby.

You smiled at him, thoughtfully returning the compliment and laughing softly as Spencer launched into a long, detailed description of your role for Matt. You and him had been good friends ever since you had started working with the team. The two of you just enjoyed similar interests and he was one of the few people who was delighted to talk about applied linguistics.

In all honesty, you were just grateful to have a brief reprieve from the group interrogation. However, it the topic soon turned back to you joining the BAU.

“We’ve been trying to convince Y/N to join us for nearly a year.” Tara informed Matt, smirking as you shifted uncomfortable under the intensity of the eight pairs of eyes staring at you expectantly.

“Yet, she would rather force me to dig through piles of applications, than just accept my offer.” Prentiss told him, adding a dramatic sigh to emphasise her point.

You shook your head in bemusement as Luke reached out to place a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You’re already here. Why not just stay?” He asked softly, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he awaited your response.

All it took was one glance at their knowing expressions to realise that they had all planned this group intervention. They were good…and their persistence was about to pay off.

After all, this was everything you wanted for your career and you felt certain that you and Luke could handle any challenges in your relationship. Above all, you just wanted the best for one another. Why should you hold back when it came to your ambition?

Besides, you didn’t think you could cope with a another grilling like this. Against profilers you stood no chance of winning.

“Why not?” You replied, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to play off the huge decision you had just made. A wide grin spread across your face as a chorus of enthusiastic cheers echoed around the room.

It felt like you were finally home.