#black friday fic

[scripted-downfall]

With the portals closed behind him and Lex Foster already in possession of his firearm, there wasn't anything left for John Mcnamara to do for his country (or the world in general). This left him in the unfortunate position of being trapped in the Black and White (somehow *not* dissolving?) with his old-mentor-turned-Wiggly-disciple and, of course, the great Wiggly himself. This is not a fun position in which to be.

Also known as: dial eldritch!Wiggly up to 11, stir in one (1) awesome General and his traumatised mentor/old friend/maybe-something-more, garnish with mental and physical torment, and serve angsty! Could be read as gen, but it's secretly Cross/Mcnamara if you're cool; it's just not explicit in either sense of the word

[amazingmsme]

Yeah and the wilbur x wiggly fic is...pretty mid I'm sorry to say. No offense to the author.

It doesn't use any of the cool things you can do with them

Damn that’s sad to hear, but sometimes that’s the way it is. There’s just some fics that really don’t vibe with you, & that’s ok! It’s literally impossible to like everything, but when pickings are slim, you want to love it so bad

There’s such endless potential with where you could take a fic with these two! Angsty, fluffy, spicy, plot heavy, the sky is the limit!

But I’d love to see the extent of Wiggly’s eldritch horror powers & Wilbur being a sleazy bastard doing his bidding & then they kiss

[arliedraws]

slytherin!sirius black and brand new auror, james potter, just really take “know thy enemy” very seriously.

[swingingthehatchetnow]

Pete always averted his eyes around the homeless man downtown. Whether it was because he got awkward around social interaction or felt unwarranted guilt about the man’s situation, he’d never managed to look the man in the eyes before. He couldn’t describe his face if he tried.

That changed after Jägerman.

The things that used to be uncomfortable really weren’t anymore. After holding court with the Void, a man on the street really doesn’t seem all that intimidating. Ruth and Richie would’ve made fun of him if he was scared of the little things after the whole ordeal, he knew. It helped him to imagine their reactions. Coping and whatnot.

His walk home was lonelier. As were his study sessions and social life. But the walks home were when he really felt their loss. Even though Pete and Ruth lived in the opposite direction, they’d walk with Richie to his place, and then cut through downtown to get back to the other side of town, where he and Ruth would part ways near the Coldstone, both going to their respective homes.

He still followed that route. Coping. And whatnot.

It was just after noon. Pete had his AP statistics final in the morning, and had no class in the afternoon, because his teachers were proctoring other exams around the school. So here he was. Peter Spankoffski, walking through downtown Hatchetfield, alone. Steph had a full school day, so he wouldn’t see her until later.

“Excuse me, do you have a minute to talk about saving our planet?”

He turned. The Green Peace girl was at it again, with a wide smile and a clipboard in hand.

“It’ll only take a minute of your time,” she continued, now holding out a brochure. Trying to reduce the amount of time he had to talk to her, he took it wordlessly.

“I, um—” his voice cracked, and his face flushed red. Nobody else his age was still having voice cracks. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take a look at it. Saving the world and all.”

Not like he hadn’t done that once already.

The Green Peace girl smiled even wider, and did a little bouncey turn on her heel. The way she bobbed off reminded Pete of Steph when she was in a particularly happy mood. This thought relaxed him a bit.

He tucked the brochure into his pocket and continued walking, though he didn’t get far before he was cut off by someone else.

“Spare change for the homeless?”

Of course he knew that voice. Anyone who spent more than five minutes downtown knew about the homeless man.

Before he even looked at the man in front of him, Pete reached for his wallet. He’d just gotten a bonus at work, so he figured he had a few dollars to spare. Besides, his movie theater job paid surprisingly well.

He grabbed a $5 bill and turned to the man.

“Here you—”

He knew that face.

Older, sure, and a little lost-looking, but there was no doubt about it. Pete was looking at…

“Teddy?”

The 20 year age gap between the Spankoffski boys left them with an interesting dynamic. It was hard to feel like brothers sometimes when one of them was coming home from kindergarten while the other was getting a full time job at CCRP.

But they had their moments. When Pete was learning how to drive, Ted would let him use his car, even though he hadn’t gotten his license yet, or the night before freshman year, when Ted gave Pete his ‘Spankoffski guide to charming the ladies’ guidebook.

Hand trembling, holding out the $5 bill, Pete looked into the cloudy eyes of his older brother. His older older brother.

Somehow, some way… Ted was standing in front of Pete, a shadow of his former self.

“That’s way cool, man,” he said, taking the $5 from Pete. No sense of recollection could be seen.

“Ted, what happened to you…?” Pete watched Ted pocket the money. And then Ted… walked off. Just like that.

“Ted, wait!” Pete called after him, but Ted didn’t turn around. He simply tugged his hat down over his ears and walked off.

With trembling hands, Pete reached for his phone. He spent no more than 3 seconds looking for his brother’s contact info and hitting the call button.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Four…

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

Pete sighed in relief at the sound of his brother’s voice on the other end of the line.

“No,” he said, “my AP exam was today. Ted, I—” he paused, realizing he had no idea what he was going to say. How do you ask someone if they know that they’re the homeless man from downtown.

He lost his nerve.

“…I was just wondering if you want to hang out later. I— I got a new game, and—”

“Yeah, sure whatever. I get off work at the usual time.” A sound came from Ted’s end of the line, fabric shifting, like he’d adjusted how he was sitting. “Is that all? Because I was about to pull the ol’ Spankoffski charm on this barista that Paul is trying to snag.”

The familiarity of the conversation was enough to ease Pete’s worries. Sure, he’d held court with the Void, lost his two best friends, nearly got shot executioner-style, and ran into what he was certain was some version of his brother in the streets… but all that didn’t matter because somewhere in downtown Hatchetfield, Ted Spankoffski was fine. And so was Pete.

“I don’t say it a lot, but I’m glad you’re my brother, Teddy.”

“Sorry, I was talking to Charlotte. Did you say something?”

Pete smiled and hung up.

Maybe the universe was bigger than he knew and could ever understand.

So what.

[viveela]

The Princess has been kidnapped!

Drew this for a fic I've been tryna make for ages, it's finally seeing the light

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 12

PREVIOUS

If there was one thing no one would ever guess about FF it is that he unapologetically LOVES Black Friday.

You may be thinking. Ugh Black Friday. Everyone is so rude and tired. The deals aren’t even that good. It can turn into a blood sport at the drop of a hat over a toaster that is 15% off.

You are correct.

That is why FF loves it.

It is the one shopping day of the year where every single one of his instincts are correct, valid, and useful. He has pulled his gran out of the way of elbow drops, he has avoided the gaze of a woman in PINK sweat pants who was looking for someone to steal a blender from, and he knows without a doubt that the cashier hates him already so there’s no need to worry about whether or not they hate him.

It’s like a breath of fresh air!

Everyone is just as antagonistic and awful as he thinks they are!

Shopping is actually the blood sport he always feels like it is!

So there he is standing in a line at the nearest store (Target) waiting to be let in with the masses who all look ready to stab one another for better positioning for a TV. The jokes on them though because his only goal is the grocery section and he deals with the threat of repeated stabbings for BREAKFAST.

He spots an IHOP in the distance and hopes his gran doesn’t feel too lonely. They’ve gotten buttermilk stacks together at the IHOP by the mall for years after the two of them finished Christmas Shopping.

Someone elbows him in the side to get his spot in line but FF does not really care. Again, he doubts any of these people are going to be racing him to the all purpose flour.

It’s 4 AM and the barricades come down.

There’s a rush of people pushing and shoving but FF just steps to the side and watches as they all rush in. He’d mostly stayed in the line because the throng of people made it easier to stay warm. He had left his jacket back at the house because the five hour energy might be making his skin feel super sensitive but he is pretty sure that if he wore his nylon jacket he would die.

The five hour energy also may be upping his anxiety just a little bit.

He walks into the store at a leisurely pace and while the crowd fights over the carts he grabs one of the baskets. He can feel the eyes of other shoppers all wondering if he has some insider knowledge on a good deal that would only require the basket or if it’s a matter of who gets to the back to receive the ‘redeem’ coupon.

He sees a few shoppers get lured in by his siren call and much like a siren following anything that FF is about to do will undoubtedly lead to their downfall.

But FF doesn’t care about that.

He cares about HIS downfall.

So he makes his way to the grocery section and ignores the six different shopping assistants who try and guide him to where he ‘should’ be shopping and each of them only give him increasingly confused looks when he states his intention to go to the grocery section every single time.

Is it easier to ignore their stares when the five hour energy have set his baseline heart rate to something that might be too fast to register as a heartbeat? Maybe.

It is easier to ignore the confusion on their faces when he can see both the past (he asked for TWO favors from Andrew in one day how is he still alive???) and the future (still malleable at the moment apparently. There’s even a future where Andrew actually just is trying to make overtures of friendship but he dismisses that one as INCREDIBLY unlikely and looks at the far more viable one where Andrew at least makes his death quick while he enjoys his great gran’s brownies.)

It’s good to set reasonable goals for yourself.

So he arrives at the grocery section which is deserted aside from one employee who may or may not be asleep against a shelf. FF looks and….not a shelf he needs so he is not about to wake that poor man up.

So he gets everything he needs for his great gran’s brownies (he’s trying to buy his life here so he is not about to assume he can use ANYTHING in the house), the ingredients for a good breakfast (because he really needs to eat something that is not a five hour energy or sugar for the sake of his poor stomach and he may as well get enough for everyone), and (since Captain Neil mentioned it & he is trying to buy his life here) the ingredients to bake another pie.

While he grabs cinnamon he checks to see if they have grandma’s love in stock but, alas, it continues to be unavailable commercially.

He stares at the whipped cream for so long that the employee asleep in the other aisle woke up and asked if he needed help and, startled, he dropped it in his basket. “No I’m good.” He says before power walking out of the grocery department and deciding to brave the Home Goods section to buy some incense so that he can hopefully channel the spirit of his great gran to assist him in this, the darkest of his baking hours.

He arrives at the check out stations and finds the shortest line .

He can feel eyes on him, inspecting his purchases, judging them, judging him, who the fuck goes grocery shopping during the Black Friday rush?

FF.

FF goes grocery shopping during the Black Friday rush.

The cashier looks for hidden cameras but FF has no such thing accompanying him today or ever (as far as he knows.)

After a moment the cashier must look at the ever growing line and decide that whatever scheme they think FF is up to isn’t worth trying to figure out. They offer a membership card, FF valiantly declines to get one despite the two attempts.

He is out the door with four bags of groceries that all have a target on them that feels a little too correct. It’s 6 AM now (he really did lose a lot of time at the whipped cream section) and he’s walking back to the house in Columbia.

He actually feels a little bit better since he at least got to experience his actual favorite blood sport (sorry Exy) and he even got another 2 five hour energies while he was in the check out line so he could replace some of the ones that he had gone through.

“Smith?”

He would like to thank the combined weight of the groceries for keeping his feet on the ground when he heard Captain Neil’s voice.

He turns and Captain Neil is looking at him wide-eyed in his running gear that Smith has seen him in. “You were shopping??” He asks.

FF nods and lifts up the four bags as evidence. “Why didn’t you pick up your phone?” He asks.

FF almost scoffs but he doesn’t, “You can’t be distracted when you’re in a Target on Black Friday. That’s how you take an elbow to the eye.” He responds because it’s like Captain Neil has never experienced the WWE-like environment of Black Friday shopping.

Captain Neil blinks at him.

“Text Andrew or me next time you’re going to go off into the night or just let us know beforehand. Andrew would have driven you.” Captain Neil says and grabs two of the bags out of FF’s hand. “C’mon let’s get back and maybe you can get some sleep.” Captain Neil sighs.

“I’m fine.” FF adjusts the bags so he has one in each hand.

Captain Neil does not say anything so FF assumes that he has accepted that.

***

FF had not been asleep on the couch when Neil had walked through the living room. Neil, in a move that had Andrew fully waking up, went back to the room to check his phone to see if FF had texted him an update on going out. All that greets Neil is the impersonal series of texts that mostly confirmed when practice times had been changed, when the bus was leaving, and spelling on various Spanish words.

FF isn’t a big text person.

He’s more of an in-person kind of friend.

Neil likes that about him most of the time.

“What.” Andrew asks face still half buried in Neil’s pillow.

“Smith isn’t on the couch.”

That has Andrew getting up despite the early hour and their activities the night before. Neil watches as Andrew grabs his own phone to scroll through but seems to come up with the same lack of communication that Neil does.

Andrew does do the extra step and hit the call button.

But all he gets is the confirmation that the VM has not been configured that has greeted them every time FF misses their calls. (Voicemails make FF anxious so when he got his new phone he just…never configured it.)

Neil knew that FF was not pleased with them and somehow the calm request to either stop fooling around or let him out had hit him and Andrew harder than any of the screaming demands that the two of them were usually met with from Nicky, Kevin, Aaron, or any of the other Foxes.

“You said he wasn’t mad.” Neil says.

“He nodded.” Andrew confirms.

“Maybe he went on a walk?” Neil tries as they come out to the living room. They look at the front door and find that it’s locked but it looks like Aaron’s keys are gone. “He probably is going to come back if he took Aaron’s keys since Aaron wouldn’t be the one he’d be irritated with.” Neil rationalizes.

“He didn’t bring his jacket.” Andrew says looking at the black jacket still on the hook by the door.

“We can go and see if we spot him.” Neil offers.

Andrew nods and Neil heads out first since Andrew is still in his sleeping clothes and will need some time.

Neil had not expected to find FF walking back to the house with groceries for breakfast and the pie that Neil had mentioned hoping they could bake at the house.

“Is this for the pie?” He asks looking down at what was in the bags he was carrying as the walked back to the house. Neil managed to shoot off a quick text letting Andrew know that it was fine, FF just went grocery shopping.

FF just nods, “Got everything but Grandma’s love.” He says.

FF is a nice guy to brave the stores on a morning like this but FF also looks like he hasn’t slept a wink.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Neil asks.

“I’m fine.” FF repeats.

Neil really is starting to understand his friends’ hatred for the phrase.

They get back to the house and Andrew is sat out in the living room. FF stops and blinks at the sight of him sitting there.

It is a well-known fact that Andrew does not willingly wake up early most days unless he has to. Neil is glad that Andrew has a friend that he’s coming to care about the way Andrew cares about FF.

Andrew gets up and yanks the bags out of FF’s hands. “Go to sleep. Today will be irritating if you’re half-asleep.” He says with a scowl and walks to the kitchen to put away the groceries FF had bought.

FF just looks at where Andrew had gone uncomprehendingly for a few moments and Neil figures he’s just tired. Neil feels guilty that him and Andrew messing around in the car like that had rendered FF unable to sleep and the two of them had agreed last night that from now on when FF is in the car they can talk all they want but hands stay on the wheel and eyes stay on the road.

FF is plopped down on the couch when Andrew and Neil come out of the kitchen after putting away the groceries (“These are the ingredients for brownies.” Andrew had noted as he put away melting chocolate.) and he’s looking through his flashcards again and not sleeping. He hears Andrew make a disgusted noise next to him and the next thing he knows Andrew is smacking the cards out of FF’s hands.

“Go. To. Sleep.” Andrew enunciates.

FF stares at him, then down at the flashcards. “I don’t think I can.” He says which is better than him lying and saying he wasn’t tired even if the truth had Andrew’s mouth stretch into a thin line that meant he was beating himself up for something.

“Try.” Andrew orders. “Just lay down and close your eyes. Nothing will happen to you while you’re sleeping.” He says.

FF blinks but nods turning on the couch and laying down. The blanket is still over on the lazy boy that Neil had set it on the night before and Andrew rolls his eyes before grabbing it and tossing it over FF.

“Thanks.” FF says before closing his eyes.

Neil looks to Andrew who nods and Neil accepts that there’s nothing else to be done for now and heads out on his run.

***

FF can admit that he’s a bit adrift in what Andrew and Captain Neil are doing right now.

He really should go grab another five hour energy because falling asleep IN FRONT of an irritated Andrew Minyard feels like a death sentence but “Nothing will happen to you while you’re sleeping.” And having a blanket thrown over him did not feel like a threat even if he can feel Andrew’s eyes watching him.

FF is tired and when he’s tired he tends to make stupid decisions. So FF lets himself drift off to sleep while the man who was likely going to move him to a secondary location sat and watched.

His dreams are not peaceful.

He’s running, can’t escape, an echo of words he should have considered before letting himself drift off and he knows he’s going to DIE.

He wakes up with a start to the smell of bacon, eggs, and hashed browns with Nicky standing over him. “Hey there sleeping beauty! I made you a plate!” He says and hands FF a plate of breakfast that smiles up at him with a bacon mouth, egg eyes, and hashed brown hair.

FF takes the plate and digs in immediately. He needs his strength.

“Today will be irritating if you’re half-asleep.”

Andrew Minyard was going to hunt him for SPORT.

NEXT

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As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly? (Cheesecookie whatever you did let me actually select you this time)

[agentravensong]

thinking about lex foster.

she has the Gift. she can pull a gun from the void. as a child, she was friends with an eldritch entity. in one timeline, she defeats an avatar/incarnation of another eldritch entity to save her sister.

but, there, that's the thing: lex has a younger sister, who is even more gifted. that sister is the lynchpin of the multiverse. and lex is her protector.

that sister, hannah, is only alive because lex, as a 5 year old, used her Gift to save her from dying before she was born. she didn't even want a sister before that moment. she doesn't remember doing it.

lex wants to be a normal teen who can hang out with her boyfriend and do stupid teen stuff. compared to hannah, she's grounded, practical. she forgets her own power, her own potential, as she grows up and has to learn to fight and scavenge to survive. but at heart, she's still a dreamer. she doesn't want anyone's pity, but still believes (wants to believe) in angels. if she had the money, she'd take the three of them to california. she'd be an actress.

her sister sometimes makes her life hell. lex will still risk, give up, anything and everything for that sister. she's been the closest thing to a mother hannah has known. but she's far from perfect. in multiple timelines, she's the cause of hannah's hurt, the one who puts her in the path of danger, however unintentionally. there is a gap in understanding between her and hannah that they may never fully close — but she keeps reaching out, keeps trying to work around it.

when lex is about to die in black friday, she wonders if she, all along, needed her sister more than her sister needed her — or maybe that's just her trying to reassure herself in her final moments, hoping beyond hope that hannah will be okay without her.

lex has the Gift. but she's not webby's favorite. she's not the Hero. her little sister is.

was lex meant to be the hero, originally? did she somehow fail in webby or the greater universe's eyes to live up to that position, requiring that her sister take it up instead? dooming hannah, before she was even born, to bearing the burden of being the one targeted by the most sinister forces in the multiverse, again and again, and the responsibility of stopping it?

or was the purpose of lex's existence always for her to be her sister's caretaker? to ensure that hannah could fulfill her destiny? to be the one to save her, from others or herself? through taking action, realizing her potential as the second-strongest foster girl (yellow jacket) or less directly, through just being someone hannah knows, can count on and believe in (witch in the web)? to play the kind of supportive role women are often pigeonholed into?

was hannah always meant to be the special one, the star, with lex as her prologue (and occasional understudy)? or was lex the original choice for the role, only for her to turn out to be... not enough? leaving hannah with the job of weaving together the pieces of a shattered universe?

either way, lex foster's existence is defined by her sister. has been since before she can remember.

and yet, though she probably wouldn't be able to say why, i don't think lex would change that. not unless she truly believed it would be to hannah's benefit. (and we all know it wouldn't be.)

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 37

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Fade to Black by @yokohogawa

Things between Keith and Lance are changing but Keith is restless, especially with Shiro still weak, and ends up taking a bad decision: he leaves Lance alone in the Castle with a Lion he cannot pilot. Unable to form Voltron without the newly appointed Red Paladin, the four Paladins left struggle against the sudden attack of a Galra ship and later on take damage from the explosion of a star in close proximity. Lance, on the other end, is left to defend the Castle by himself and has little time to succeed: without energy, the Lions have only 6 hours of breathable air. Beyond that point, his friends will be dead.

okay yes technically this series is unfinished. HOWEVER the first two works ARE finished, and they are amazing showstopping incredible etc. tbh im not much of a black paladin lance fan, i genuinely think solo leadership is not what he is suited for, but this fic made me way more open to it. the way he handled severe crises was as fear stricken as it was awe inspiring highly recommend

2. once again i am a child by @lilaclavenders

“You’re not a spare tyre,” Adam interjects.  “I know that,” Lance says, too unsure to sound completely defensive.   “That almost sounded like a question.” “No... it didn’t,” Lance says.

Lance and Adam talk.

i have always been a fan of lance and adam even tho its the most evidence lacking fanon thing in this fandom. its truly just so interesting. and to have lance as a young cadet getting slammed so badly just in so many different directions being given at least one grownup in his corner...its a good read.

3. Lance the language man by @irish-vampire-blog

Lance didn't really try to learn a language. He just, kind of, picks up the basics and then works from there. Its usually unintentional. Ish.

He isn't stupid though. He isn't an idiot. He just isn't the same kind of smart as his friends are.

this kind of smart for lance is so REAL bc no he cannot do like quantum physics or whatever probably but the way he seems to have a pretty innate ability to successfully do many things that he tries. he just can u know?? thats the autism with the gay audacity i would imagine but i love seeing fics like this

4. my boyfriend's back (and you're gonna get in trouble) by teacupfulofbrains

hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back

Keith Kogane has never heard of Vine. Lance McClain takes personal offense to this, and makes it his personal mission to teach his boyfriend to meme. Keith is confused, mostly.

(OR: several instances of Keith not getting the meme™ and two times he did)

I LOVE THIS FIC SO BAD I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT RECCED IT BEFORE. yes i am a cringe zillenial who still finds vine funny and quotes it on the internet but truly idc idc. this fic is funny. this fic is cute. established klance my love and light. also keith comparing lances eyes to the star of bombay is some of the gayest shit ever and also the only time i will entertain blue eyed lance

5. The Most Dangerous Thing is to Love by running_downn

Last time something like this happened to Lance, Keith wasn’t there. He’d thought he would have been able to do something if he had been there, or at least if he was, the guilt wouldn’t be so heavy on his chest. But this time he was there. He was right fucking there and he decided that it was infinitly worse.

~

Basically there's a new threat after the Galra and it almost kills Lance. Desperate making out ensues, but it's okay to recognize when it's not the right time for it. Keith cries a lot cause he's older and grizzled and therefore not as emotionally stunted.

green sock reality? team still out fighting as adults and lance isn’t a fucking farmer while the rest of the team isn’t? keith’s abandonment issues treated with respect and dignity and also the acknowledgement that he’s older and therefore mature enough to handle those issues in a way that doesn’t risk a relationship that is important to him? lance understanding all this and using the supportive nature he is known for??? yes yes yes. stellar fic that should have way more hits than it does

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[a-sunset-outside-my-window]

fic rec friday

Things that are not covered in the absolutely USELESS parenting books that Sirius Black, recently freed from Azkaban and new guardian of Harry James Potter, bought in a recent panic:

- How to balance parenting and wooing the hot Dark Magic Exterminator from Lupin & Co that you hired to clear out your parents’ creepy townhouse

- How to convince your five-year-old that the basilisk, boggart and ghoul you planted in the house so said hot exterminator would have to keep coming back are not, in fact, his new best friends

- How to walk your child’s pet basilisk (when you inevitably fail).

Today fic by OptimisticDinosaur is absolutely just vibes and happy thoughts! It's a very fluffy one-shot fic with a tiny sequel and it's so lovely.

Favourite tropes included are:

•Remus Lupin never went to Hogwarts

•Harry is beeing raised by Sirius

•idiots falling in love

•Harry gets a snake!!

I feel like this fic is me making up for the somewhat angsty fics I have recommended lately, so do with that what you will.

As always, give lots of love and kudos to the author and have an amazing rest of the week.

[nobark-allbite]

With one clear swoop, Alice strikes a match and tosses it into the pile of kindling. It instantly erupted into flames, creating a fierce, towering bonfire. One by one, Alice flings each of her poems into the fire and watches as the unruly thing swallows them. All the time she’d spent, all the cramps in her hand, all the memories they’d shared. The fire didn’t care. It was ravenous. Hungry. Indifferent.

thank you so much to @chatterghosts for making this epic cover for my fic!!!!! all four chapters of arson party are out!!! please give it a read if you like Hatchetfield stories with lesbians and murder!!!!!!!

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/51642430

[blueskiesandstarrynights]

no pressure to answer, but any hatchetfield fic recs?

ooooo I've got a bunch so get ready! I'm gonna split this into multi-chap works and oneshots so you can find what you want

Multi-chapter works

The Hatchetfield Anomaly by @shhimavoidingsleep is so so good. It's a two fic series that's really long and has lots of characters, twists and turns, lore, and so much else. It's really long tho so def keep that in mind before you sit down and read it. It hasn't been updated in over a year, however it's also collectively got almost a million words, so I think it's worth a read regardless.

Into the Black and White by @warriorblood1 is another fave, sort of a post black Friday slow burn fix it, so so good

I'm Going to Live Twice by @wizisbored is based on the premise of infected Paul and Emma being taken by evil!PIEP and studied/experimented on. lots of unethical science stuff and dehumanisation so read the tags but I adore the dynamic with Paul and Emma, so well written

walk around (as if you never cared in the first place) by @marianara-sauce makes me so so happy. It operates under the premise that Max comes back as a ghost, but he can't touch anyone, so he's left just haunting the nerdy prudes. They gave him a redemption that felt natural and well done and they're the only person I trust with Max.

What the darkness does by @fencecollapsed is a very funky fic with a fun premise with Paul as a shadow creature in the Witchwoods, def give it a read.

One shots

Father and Son by @graceschasity is so so so good. I was grinning and kicking my feet the whole time. Such a funky premise executed so well

one hell of an abnormality by snarkywallflower is an excellent look at pete and his grief post npmd with some very nicely done lautski in there as well

but are you fast enough by silent_h is such a funky fic with an interesting premise executed so well, mashing two characters you wouldn't expect in a way that works well

It's hard to know they're out there by basilpaste is another excellent fic about pete's grief where Ms. Holloway gives him an opportunity to say goodbye, very well done

Heya Darlin by @warriorblood1 is a series of unconnected oneshots about holloduke that I love.

[hihimissamericanbi]

Filthy Friday

Hello who wants a sneak peak of the long-awaited Part 2 of The Roommate? NSFW under the cut. Special thanks to @thisliminalspacedaydreams for jumpstarting my brain on this.

Tagging some friends. Gimme your filth snippets!! @spookymoonie @kaaaaaaarf @imdamagecontrol @greenvlvetcouch @strezzlecki @emeryhall uhhh anyone else who wants praise for their smut!!! I'll tell you you're a very good girl/boy/baby/plaything/gurl/boi/etc etc <3

 “Oh, I’m sorry, maybe I didn't make myself clear.” Regulus reaches out one pale, long-fingered hand and grips James by the chin, hard enough to bruise. “Get on your fucking back so I can ride your cock until I milk you dry. Get on your back so I can come all over your chest then lick it off your skin, kiss myself into your mouth. Get on your back so I can hold you, soft and spent, inside my hole until you replace your dick with your fingers, until you feel how loose and sloppy I am from taking your fat fucking cock."

[xjustakay]

baby, all i wanna do is coast (with you).

chapter 7 update; sad boy hours + the plot thickens (happy coast friday for the first time in a hot minute though lmao)

[karatekels]

TIGmas Day #1 - Person of Interest

Happy first day of TIGmas everybody! I’m so excited to finally start this off! This fic is for @virgo-mess, whose own writing has made me so happy! Thanks for being such a great part of the TIG community, virgo, and I hope you enjoy!

TW: semi-public sex (people definitely know what’s going on), graphic sex, gagging

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Person of Interest

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Reader’s POV:

“Turn right at the light,” you dictate from the passenger’s seat, and the driver nods, following your instructions. The two of you are on the way to your precinct’s annual Christmas party, and you have been really looking forward to it – it’s been months since you’ve seen your coworkers.

You and Jacob, your chauffeur for the evening, had been undercover for the past nine months, acting as a betrothed couple and scoping out jewelry stores that were part of an underground smuggling network. Jacob was from a neighbouring precinct, and you hadn’t known him before your assignment, but you had quickly become fast friends – and convincing paramours, though you were glad the latter part of your relationship could be dropped now that the necessary arrests had been made.

Jacob was tall, blond, and classically handsome, so it wasn’t that it was difficult to keep up the pretense of being attracted to him for that reason. But he was head-over-heels for his actual girlfriend, which had made things awkward more than once during your time undercover. You weren’t involved with anyone romantically prior to your assignment, and were almost grateful; you’re not sure it would have been possible for you to be so convincing if your heart belonged to someone else.

“What do you think your coworkers are going to think about our big news?” Jacob jokes, and you groan, trying once again to get the engagement ring off of your finger. It fit you a little too perfectly, and you had been trying in vain to get it off of your finger for days now. You really didn’t want to have it cut off – Jacob had been planning on proposing to his girlfriend with it on New Year’s Eve – but at this point you’re running out of options.

“I would hope that these people know me well enough that they won’t assume I disappeared for almost a year to go run off with some guy,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him. “It’s the third house on the left.”

Jacob is still chuckling as he pulls the car over, parking across the street from the house – there were vehicles parked everywhere, letting you know that the party was likely in full swing. You’re feeling rather nervous as you exit the car; you’d only told the hostess of the party – the Captain’s wife, Charlotte – that you and Jacob were coming tonight. Everyone except the Captain still thought that you were away on your assignment, and hadn’t even been told what it entailed when you had left.

You approach the front door with Jacob, a few giftwrapped bottles of liquor bundled in your arms, and Jacob rings the doorbell. You take a deep breath, hoping that you’re welcomed back into the group with open arms.

Cash’s POV:

He’s already on his sixth beer… he thinks.

He wasn’t even planning on coming tonight, but Charlotte had cornered him a week ago and bullied him into accepting her oh-so-gracious invitation. He hadn’t been able to think of a viable excuse at the time and reluctantly gave in to the demands of the small, older woman. Just as well – he didn’t want to get on the Captain’s bad side anymore than he already was by upsetting his wife.

But truly, what was the point in having him here? He wasn’t particularly sociable amongst the other officers in the precinct; he had only been somewhat close with his partner, Y/N, but she had disappeared on some assignment ages ago without so much as a heads up to him.

His hand clenches his bottle tightly, to distract himself from the way his heart mirrors the action.

Y/N…

Cash knew that it was wishful thinking, hoping that you would show up here tonight, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. It’s been 273 days since you disappeared, and he’s missed you every single one of them. There had been other feelings, too – anger, hurt, and rejection among the most prominent – but he always went to bed praying that you were alright and would be back at your desk, right next to his, the next morning.

He takes another sip of his beverage, trying to wash the bitter taste from his mouth. Surely you could have told him something before you’d left, at least… but you hadn’t, and it stung.

He’d become something of a loose cannon since your abrupt departure. You’d always been the more level-headed one between you, and without you by his side to keep him rational, he’d gotten himself into trouble more than once, ultimately resulting in a brief suspension that hadn’t helped his brooding surliness.

The same brooding surliness he was displaying now, leaning against a wall by himself in the middle of a lively Christmas party, surrounded by lights and decorations and happiness.

He was starting to sound like the Grinch, even to himself.

There’s a knock at the door, and Cash briefly contemplates how many more people would need to show up for him to be able to slip away unnoticed. He couldn’t stand being around all this merriment, not feeling as low as he does.

“Y/N! You made it!” Charlotte’s voice is clear over the din of the party, and everyone seems to fall silent, surprised by the announcement of your arrival.

Cash’s heart leaps into his throat, but he doesn’t move from his place on the wall as the entryway is immediately crowded by others wanting to greet you. And why wouldn’t they? You possessed a downright magical degree of kindness, the type that was normally squashed out of everyone in your line of work relatively early on. But no, not you. You were the department’s shining light, always willing to go the extra mile for anything and anyone.

“Will you all back up already and let us breathe?!” he hears you snap at the throng of people, and he can’t help but crack a grin. Kind but cutting; just as he remembered.

The crowd parts, and as it does, Cash seems to replay your words in slow motion. Let us breathe, you had said?

And then he sees you, your sparkling dark green dress revealed as a lanky blond helps you remove your coat.

Cash sees red at the dazzling smile you give the other man, immediately forcing himself to move out of your line of sight, recognizing that he needs to get himself together now, before he puts a hole through one of the Captain’s walls.

You found someone?! he thinks to himself in anguish, downing the rest of his beer in an attempt to swallow the lump that has formed in his throat. You disappear out of the blue for nine months, before he can work up the courage to ask you out, and then come back with some moron wrapped around your finger?

He knows the sense of betrayal he’s feeling towards you is unjust, but he also knows that he doesn’t fucking care.

Whatever. You showing up with your boy toy gives him ample opportunity to slip away; you were perfect… the perfect distraction, that is.

Right.

He moves to loop around the lower level of the house to the front closet, looking for his coat.

“Hi, Cash.”

He jumps despite himself at the sound of your voice – how long has he been waiting to hear it, to hear his name coming from your lips? – and whirls around, looking down at you.

How dare you look up at him with such happiness in your eyes when you belong to someone else?

And you have the audacity to look radiant, too. He’s been wanting to see you for so long, thought about you so often that he notices every difference about you. You’re a little thinner after your time away, your hair quite a bit longer, but you’re still you, albeit dolled up and wrapped in sequined fabric that makes it even more difficult to look away from you.

“Y/N,” he replies to your greeting in a hoarse voice. Your smile fades for a moment, your brows creasing at his less-than-enthusiastic response, and he pushes past the pang of guilt that rings through his chest. No, this was your fault, not his.

“It’s so good to see you again!” you bounce back from his sour reaction quickly, all smiles as always. The honesty in your voice hurts him and leaves him confused.

“So you’re back, then?” he asks curtly, turning back to the closet to grab his jacket, throwing it over his arm. He can’t even look at you without getting butterflies in his stomach, for Christ’s sake…

“Yeah, the undercover part of the case is over. I’m back on Monday,” you offer weakly, clearly still perplexed by the way he’s acting towards you. “Are you leaving? I was hoping we could catch up…” your voice is sad as you reach up to put a hand on his arm. He tenses at the contact, abruptly turning to face you once again, and that’s when he sees it.

A fucking engagement ring on your finger, the large diamond at its centre practically winking at him as it sparkles in the Christmas lights.

He has to get away from you, right fucking now.

“Yeah, I am. Just need to thank the hosts,” he says abruptly, brushing past you without another word. He moves through the house, opening a random door tucked under the stairs and disappearing behind it, needing to calm down before he hits the road.

Reader’s POV:

You tamp down the hurt you’re feeling at Cash giving you the cold shoulder, returning to Jacob’s side where he’s talking to Charlotte. Sure, you had expected him to be a little mad at you for disappearing all of a sudden, but for him to be this upset really takes you by surprise. Cash was always a bit standoffish, but never cold, never cruel…

You try to push the thoughts of him aside for now, telling yourself you’ll straighten everything out come Monday.

“Y/N, there you are!” Charlotte exclaims, giving you another warm hug. You can’t help but give her a smile – she was like a surrogate mother to everyone in the precinct, occasionally doting on you all to the point of being overbearing, but always well-intentioned in her efforts.

“Here I am!” you reply cheerfully, trying to get back into the festive mood. “I see you’re getting to know my fake fiancé,” you add with a giggle, and Jacob preens at the title. He would be coming by regularly over the next few weeks as you worked on the reports and filing of evidence for the upcoming court case, and you figured this would be a good place to introduce him to your colleagues.

“Jacob is lovely; he was just telling me about Emily,” Charlotte replies with a fond smile for the younger man before she turns on you. “And when exactly do you plan on getting yourself a real fiancé of your own, hmm?” she teases, giving you a stern expression.

“I just got back after nine months, mom,” you respond, sticking your tongue out at her playfully. “You try finding a man who’s okay with this kind of work!”

“I already have,” she replies, looking across the room to her husband. You see their eyes meet; they still looked at each other like they were falling in love all over again, even after decades of marriage, and while the sight is heartwarming it also leaves you feeling empty. Would you ever have anything even close to that with someone?

“I don’t mean to pester you with favours on your first day back with us, Y/N, but could you head into the basement and grab a couple more bottles of red for me?” Charlotte asks with a pleading expression.

“Of course, ‘Lottie,” you reply with a friendly smile, heading towards the door under the stairs that she had pointed out to you. You open it, the stairs dark but the basement light on, and head down, hoping to avoid any spiders.

Instead, you find something much worse: Cash, looking furious.

“What the hell are you doing down here?” he demands, scowling at you, and you find your hurt at the way he’s treating you quickly being burned away by the anger you feel at his childish behaviour. You didn’t often lash out at people when you were frustrated, but Cash Ewing was well on his way to testing your patience and being on the receiving end of your ire.

“Charlotte asked me to grab some more wine. What are you doing down here? Get lost trying to find the front door? I thought you were leaving,” you sneer at him, walking past him to the wine rack and selecting a couple bottles of merlot. You don’t notice the intense way his eyes track you across the room.

“Why do you care whether I leave or not?” he snaps back, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you. You roll your eyes at him dismissively, moving past him to head back upstairs. You’re not sure what had happened during your time away to make Cash so dismissive, so angry, but you aren’t going to let it get to you tonight.

“I don’t care, Cash. So sorry for interrupting your little brooding session; I’ll leave you to it,” you say with a sigh, marching up the stairs. Someone has closed the door to the basement since you’ve opened it, so you readjust the bottles of wine in your arms to grab the doorknob.

It doesn’t budge.

You try again, and again, eventually setting down the bottles on the step below you so that you can grab the knob with both hands, pulling and pushing and twisting to no avail. Frustrated, you start pounding on the door angrily with both fists.

“Hello?! HELLO?!” you call, trying to make yourself heard over the din of the party.

“What’s wrong? Can’t even open a door?” Cash’s amused voice cuts through your screaming and punching at the door. You whirl around angrily to face him, having forgotten just how quiet he could be, frustrated that you’re still having to look up at him even though he’s standing a couple stairs below you.

“Hey genius, it’s locked. You try to get it open, if you’re so smart,” you snarl at him, gesturing towards the door and pressing yourself against the wall to give him space to get to it. He takes care to elbow past you anyways, even though you had given him more than enough room, and you glare at his back as he tries the knob.

You bite your tongue to hide a smile as it doesn’t open, smugly enjoying Cash getting frustrated, pounding on the door himself. There’s movement at the door, and someone slips a folded piece of paper underneath the crack at the bottom of the door. Cash, tall and distracted by trying to break the door down, doesn’t notice, so you reach past his feet to grab it.

“Excuse me, Detective,” you say sarcastically, trying to get his attention. “We’ve been given a message,” you add once he turns, waving the piece of paper at him. His forehead creases in confusion, and you open the note, recognizing Charlotte’s handwriting and frowning at the words.

“It just says ‘Talk to each other – Figure it out’,” you inform him, growling when he snatches the piece of paper out of your hand to read it himself. Had Cash always been such a self-important, pompous asshole?

Ignoring him, you stomp back down the stairs, throwing yourself onto the old couch. You know enough about Charlotte to know that she’s serious about her meddling, and stubborn enough to not let you out until she was satisfied that you and Cash had… what? Mended your friendship? You don’t even know why he’s being so rude in the first place!

You hear Cash start to pound on the door again, grumbling curses to himself, and roll your eyes, crossing your arms over his chest and waiting him out.

…

Unfortunately, you imagine at least ten minutes have gone by, and he’s still trying to get someone’s attention. Clearly, your hopes that he would independently come to the conclusion that you both needed to listen Charlotte aren’t going to come to fruition.

“Are you really so scared of having a conversation with me, Cash Ewing?!” you call up to him mockingly, grinning to yourself when the banging immediately stops and you hear him start to stomp down the stairs. If there’s one thing that Cash hated, it was being called a coward.

You manage to rearrange your features into a neutral mask before he comes back into view, looking down at you on the couch with a severe expression.

“I would’ve thought you’d be more bothered, Y/N,” he hisses at you, his blue eyes bright in his anger. “It’s not exactly a good look, being locked away at a party with another man while your fiancé is in the next room.”

Your mouth falls open, and no sound comes out; all you can do is gape at him.

He makes no move to break the silence, glaring down at you, arms crossed and jaw clenched.

You burst out laughing, unable to help yourself as the reality of the situation hits you. Cash was acting like this because he thought you were with Jacob? Because he was jealous?!

Cash leans down, caging you against the couch with his strong arms and getting in your face.

“And just what exactly is so funny?” he snarls, his eyes locked with yours. Your laughter dies in your throat.

You shove him away from you angrily before answering; you had never let Cash intimidate you before, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.

“Jacob and I aren’t engaged, you moron,” you inform him coldly, crossing your arms again. He stares pointedly at the ring on your finger instead of offering a response, not denying that the issue of your relationship status is the reason why he’s acting like such a big, dumb baby.

“It’s stuck,” you admit with a chuckle. “We were undercover as a couple during our assignment, and I can’t get it off.”

Cash stares at you in silence, and you know him well enough to tell that he’s angry at himself right now, both for jumping to the wrong conclusion and for making his own feelings apparent in the process. Well, you certainly aren’t going to coddle him for it; he’s made you feel horrible all evening, when you’d been so excited to see him.

He’d been the first person you had searched for tonight, looking for him the moment that Charlotte had opened the front door. You’d missed him the entire time you had been away; you’re sure you talked about him to Jacob at least as much as he’d brought up Emily, maybe even more…

And when you had seen him tonight, all brooding good looks, the butterflies that you’d always felt around him came back tenfold. To know that he clearly feels the same way for you is such wonderful news.

But he’s made you feel like garbage tonight, and you don’t plan on letting that go lightly, reciprocated feelings be damned.

“I can’t believe you, Cash Ewing,” you hiss, glaring up at him defiantly. “You’ve been pissy with me all night because you’re jealous of Jacob? What gives you the right to be upset about me being in a relationship, huh?! We’ve been partners for years, and you’ve never said anything, but the first sign of me being with someone else and suddenly you’re acting lik–”

“Don’t,” he snarls, interrupting your rant, and your jaw snaps shut. So much for not letting yourself be intimidated by him…

“Where do you get off, speaking to me like that?” he seethes, his hands clenching into fists. “You disappear without a word for nine months, and then come back out of the blue with some random guy and a ring on your finger, and act like I’m not supposed to have feelings about it?!”

The jealousy looks good on him, especially when he’s dressed up for the party and out of his regular uniform. Dark dress pants, a crisp white shirt, and a blue tie that matches his eyes hanging loose around his throat… you feel yourself getting hot and bothered.

“And why, exactly, should you feel any sort of way about me being with someone else?” you snap, intent on getting a confession out of this stubborn, stupid man.

“You’re mine,” he growls possessively. You bite your tongue to keep up the façade, managing to keep your face neutral as you raise an eyebrow at him, though you’re sure you’re blushing terribly and giving yourself away.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Cash? I’m not yours; I don’t owe you anything!”

You’re intent on continuing to argue with him, but you notice that he’s stopped listening, his gaze on the ceiling above you. Irritated at his lack of focus, you tilt your head upwards to see what’s distracted him, and notice a wreath of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling above you. You fix him with another glare.

“Even now, you’re still looking around for a sign or for ‘the right time,’ instead of just being upfront and honest with me!” you scream incredulously. “You’re still scared of just acting on what you feel!”

You stand up, intent on moving away from him, from the mistletoe, from the whole situation, but he grabs your arm, pulling you against him firmly, his other hand grabbing your jaw and pulling you towards his face as he lowers your head to yours.

You make a half-hearted attempt to protest, but abandon that pursuit the instant his lips touch yours. His kiss is dominant, all-consuming, aggressive, and it makes your head spin and your toes curl. His hand moves down your arm to wrap around your waist, clutching you to him possessively, his other hand moving from your jaw to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair as he turns your head to the angle he wants.

You’re briefly embarrassed by the desperate moan you let out from the intensity of the kiss, but Cash’s growl of approval makes you move past it quickly. Your hands, still crushed between your bodies, manage to grab hold of his shirt, pulling him towards you as you pour your heart and soul into the kiss.

You’d been attracted to Cash Ewing from the moment you laid eyes on him five years ago, and the crush had begun not long after that, but never in your wildest dreams (and there had been many involving him over the years) had you imagined that kissing him would feel so incredible.

Eventually, you two pull apart to catch your breath. The moment you do, you smack him in the chest, pushing him away from you.

“What makes you think you can just grab someone and –” you begin angrily, but Cash’s hand grips your chin and forces your jaw shut, his thumb over your lips.

“Shut up, Y/N,” he orders, eyes glittering down at you. “Just shut up for once. You want me to confess to you? Then you let me talk, and you listen.”

You blink up at him mutely, surprisingly even more turned on by him talking down to you like this.

“Y/N,” he begins, his voice husky as he murmurs your name, and you suppress a shiver at the sound. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’m crazy about you. I love the fire in your eyes when you tell people off, and how you somehow still manage to be the sweetest, kindest person in the precinct. I love the way you bite the end of your pen when you’re thinking hard about something. I love the way you’re not afraid of anything, and the way you call me an idiot when I rush into situations without thinking. I’ve loved you for years, and all that’s been keeping me going while you’ve been gone is the knowledge that I was going to finally work up the courage to tell you the minute you got back.”

He takes a couple deep breaths once he finishes his confession – Cash rarely spoke so much all at once – and you’re completely speechless, even after he releases your face from his grip. He takes the opportunity to kiss you again, your body immediately returning the gesture, but as he guides you back towards the couch you force yourself to pull away so that you can push him down first.

Kicking off your heels, you climb onto his lap, your knees to either side of his hips. Cash purrs approvingly, his large hands coming up to your hips, but you slap them away until they lay obediently at his sides. His gaze is intense as you wrap your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his and looking deeply into his blue, blue eyes.

“I love you, Cash Ewing, I have from the moment we met. I love the way you correct typos in my reports when you think I don’t notice, and the way your tongue sticks out when you’re upset. I love that I can read you like an open book even when you try to close yourself off from the world, and I love that I always feel safe when you’re around. I thought about you constantly over the past nine months, and dreamed about finally being with you as soon as I got back. Please don’t make me wait anymore,” you whisper the request needily against his lips, kissing him fiercely.

His hands are on you again immediately, gripping your hips before moving back to squeeze your ass. You roll your hips against his encouragingly, whimpering into the kiss, and bring your hands from the back of his neck down to his chest, immediately fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Cash leans back, watching you undress him with a great deal of satisfaction, shrugging out of his shirt the instant you finish with the buttons.

You’ve never been particularly kinky, never even considered having sex where anyone could walk in on you at any moment – your coworkers, no less – but with Cash you find yourself wanting to do anything and everything. You pull him back towards you by the loose knot of his tie, kissing him hungrily as your fingers explore the hard contours of his chest. He responds with just as much passion, kissing you like he wants to swallow you whole, his hands everywhere as he feels you up over your dress.

You reach behind you, grabbing the zipper and pulling it down, the top of the dress falling to your waist. Cash’s blue eyes darken even further as they take in your cleavage, your breasts pressed together invitingly in a black push-up bra. He slides the straps down your arms, immediately pulling the bra down, the rough pads of his fingers immediately teasing your nipples. You toss your head back, moaning wantonly, and hear him let out a low chuckle before his mouth closes around a nipple, his tongue toying with the sensitive bud in a way that has you writhing against him.

He releases you after a moment, pulling you back towards his chest, a smirk on his face from the way you’re responding to him. You glower at him, and he offers you a pleased smile in return.

“Why’d you stop?” you demand, your voice whiny with need.

“Because if you moan any louder, someone will hear and come check on us,” he says smugly, his grin widening as you blush bright red. Huffing, you slide off his lap, trying not to pout as you tug your bra back into place. You reach behind you again to pull up the zipper on your dress, but before you can Cash has pounced on you, turning you around until you were on your knees, body pressed against the back rest of the couch. He presses your face against the cushions before pressing himself against your back, leaning down to speak in your ear.

“Are you going to be able to keep yourself quiet, or do you need my help?” he asks mockingly, pulling your bra fully off you this time. You shiver against him, already breathless with need, your hands coming up to grip the back of the couch tightly. You feel Cash still behind you, before he grabs your wrist, peeling you away from the back of the couch. You look up at him questioningly.

“I’m not fucking you while you’re wearing another man’s engagement ring, even if it’s all pretend,” he tells you in a low, gravelly voice.

“Then I guess you’re not fucking me at all,” you grumble, glaring at him. “I’ve tried for days, but it won’t come off, and I can’t cut it off – Jacob wants to give it to his girlfriend.”

Cash growls at the mere mention of Jacob, and you smirk at his jealousy rearing its head again. In response, he snatches up your left hand, staring at the ring on your finger intently for a moment. Between one blink and the next, he’s taken your finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the ring, and you gasp at the sensation. He locks eyes with you, his gaze heated as he sucks on your finger in a way that makes you whimper, feeling filthy from the depraved act.

With one last hard suck, his mouth making a lewd, wet noise that makes your clit throb with need, Cash pulls the ring off your finger with his teeth. Not moving his gaze away from you, he spits the ring into his palm and places it on the side table. You swallow, your mouth dry, unable to say a word. Instead, your hands dart out, sliding your fingers through his belt loops and tugging him towards you by his hips. He obliges, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you, slowly laying you down on the couch and covering you with his body.

You lift your head off of the cushions to kiss him, coaxing him with your tongue to get even closer, your hands reaching between you to remove his belt, a thrill running through you as your hand brushes up against his erection through his pants. Cash hisses into your mouth, his hands moving down your body to the hem of your dress before snaking their way up under it, his fingers squeezing your thighs possessively and making you squirm underneath him. He hooks two fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs and off of you. In an act of pure depravity, he holds them to his face, breathing in deeply through his nose, his eyes locked with yours, and you groan at the sight, your eyes fluttering closed. You’re not sure you can take anymore of this…

A scrap of silk and lace, damp and musky, presses up against your mouth, and as your eyes snap open in your surprise, Cash stuffs your underwear into your mouth, gagging you with it. Rather than spitting curses at him the way you both likely anticipated you would at the action, you go limp, laying back against the couch without complaint, gazing up at him with wide, pleading eyes and your mouth full of your own underwear. You pant through the fabric, completely wild with lust, and Cash licks his lips, leaning back to unbutton his pants and free his hard cock. Your eyes hone in on his long, thick member, slightly curved and leaking at the tip, and let out a muffled moan of desire. You’ve never felt lust so intensely before; it feels like your body is going to burn up if you don’t get him inside you now.

Without a trace of shame or embarrassment, you spread your legs even wider to either side of his, hooking your feet around his butt and trying to pull him towards you, reaching down to pull up your skirt to your waist to join the rest of your dress. You absently notice that your vision is blurring with tears, both from the way your breathing is constricted and from your sheer need to have him.

“Fuck,” Cash breathes, leaning down to kiss your neck passionately, his hands running lightly up and down your sides. “I’ve thought about this moment for years, but never were you looking up at me as desperately as you are now.”

You give him another insistent moan, your legs fully locking around his hips and your arms thrown around his neck, stroking the short grey hair at the nape of his neck as you beg with your eyes. He looks deeply into your eyes, and you see nothing but lust and love for you in them before he moves to guide himself into you. The head of his cock slips through your slick entrance, stretching you out, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, laving your neck and shoulder in kisses as he thrusts himself fully into your tight, wet heat.

The sound of his groan of pleasure in your ear sears itself into your memory, echoing your own muffled cry of soul-deep satisfaction. And then he starts to move his hips, and all conscious thought leaves you as you surrender yourself fully to just being in the moment with Cash. It’s the most all-encompassing feeling you’ve ever felt, the sense of completion you feel as you make love nearly overwhelming. It’s sweet and passionate, it’s quick and dirty, it’s perfect.

“Y/N,” Cash moans in your ear, the sound of him saying your name like that almost making you come undone. “Finally. You’re finally mine,” he whispers, nuzzling into your hair as he moves above you, hips pumping a slow deep rhythm as his hands roam your body greedily, possessively. You tighten your hold on him, wordlessly letting him know that you feel the same way as you whine through your makeshift gag, clinging to him desperately as you move your hips to match his thrusts.

He lifts himself off of you enough to rest his forehead on yours, staring deeply into your eyes as he quickens his pace. You notice a wicked gleam in his eye, and brace yourself for some evil trick.

“You’re gonna come for me, sweetheart,” he hisses against your lips, eyes bright as your body clenches around him in response. “You’re gonna come so hard around my cock, and then I’m taking you home with me so I can make you do it again and again, without you needing to be kept quiet,” he teases, roughly inserting a few of his fingers into your mouth, choking you deliciously with your panties. The dirty talk and rough treatment make your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you fight your body telling you that you were getting close. If you let him win now, this first time, you’d never hear the end of it.

With strength you didn’t know you had, you throw yourself off the couch, rolling onto the carpeted floor and bringing Cash with you, managing to get him on his back underneath you. His surprise is evident on his face, but his expression immediately morphs into one of pleasure as you sink back onto his cock, riding him hard and fast. Lifting one hand from his chest, you pull your underwear from your mouth and press them to his lips with your fingers. He lets out a groan of arousal as you take charge, looking up at you with fascination and awe.

“I’m going to ride you until you can’t remember your own name, Cash Ewing,” you tell him in a husky voice, gyrating your hips in circles and making his grip on your waist tighten as you hit an angle that has both of you moaning. Keeping yourself there, you both work to bounce your body up and down on his cock, you covering his mouth with your underwear and him reaching up to cover your mouth with a large hand, muffling your noises of pleasure as you try to get the other to reach their peak first.

In the end, it’s pretty close, and you already know that you’ll both go to your graves swearing the other person came first. Either way, your orgasm washes over you like a powerful wave, Cash pinching your nose as the rest of his hand clamps over your mouth to try to keep you relatively quiet, even as he lets out a loud grunt as he releases deep inside of you. Once you both manage to keep quiet, Cash releases your mouth and spits your panties up at you, giving you a sinful smirk before guiding you to lay down against his chest, stroking your hair gently. As much as you would love to relax and curl up with him, the thought of getting walked in on post-coital and spread out on your boss’s basement floor has you fighting temptation and forcing yourself up and off Cash, batting away his hands as they try to keep you in place.

“Where are you going?” Cash asks, a twinge of vulnerable desperation in his voice that makes your heart melt. You’d apologize for not telling him about going undercover eventually, but not now.

“We have to get out here,” you explain, taking in his nude form spread out on the carpet with an appreciative gaze. He sighs, looking up at you wistfully before sitting up, making a show of pocketing your sodden underwear. You roll your eyes, pulling your bra back into place and zipping up your dress, trying not to appear too dishevelled. When you turn back to Cash he’s fully dressed, fiddling with his tie. You walk up to him almost shyly, reaching up to fix the knot until it’s laying properly against his shirt. He smiles down at you fondly, trying to smooth your hair down before giving up and settling for giving you a sweet, (relatively) chaste kiss.

“I just have to give Charlotte the wine and get Jacob his ring back, and then I’m all yours,” you promise, bending to put your shoes back on. These heels were already hard enough to walk in, but now you have to deal with being weak in the knees on top of everything.

“I’ll give loverboy his ring back,” Cash says, snatching it off the table before you can grab it for yourself. “Time to introduce myself and let him know where he stands,” he jokes, giving you a wink and heading for the stairs. You snatch up the bottles of wine and hurry after him, trying not to trip.

“You better be nice to him, Cash Ewing!” you hiss up the stairs at him, hearing him chuckle in response.

“The door’s open; you should wait a couple minutes before coming out or it’ll look suspicious,” he offers in reply, slipping out before you can protest. He did have a point, you suppose…

You give it a couple of minutes before sneaking up the stairs, trying to blend into the party without looking too guilty… or rumpled…

You find Charlotte right where you’d left her, and place the bottles of wine on the bar behind her.

“Thank you, Y/N. I hope they weren’t too difficult to find – you were gone for quite awhile,” she says knowingly with a bright smile. You force yourself to return the gesture, feeling your face flush. Nosy, manipulative woman… but you suppose you should thank her.

“No, the problem was that sticky doorknob,” you reply with a frown.

“Ah, well… things like that can be stubborn, but eventually they open up. Wine?” she offers innocently, positively beaming at you now.

“No, thank you. I’m actually going to head out, Charlotte – it’s still a lot for me to be around big groups of people after my time away,” you say, the excuse only partly a lie. You are finding it difficult being in a crowd without feeling the need to constantly look over your shoulder.

“Alright, dear. Well, it was lovely to see you again,” the older woman says kindly, cupping your cheek fondly.

“Do you think Cash would want some wine?” A voice chimes in, and Jacob appears suddenly, joining your conversation. You don’t say anything, but your mouth falls open as you watch him and Charlotte looking at you with identical wicked smiles and laughter in their eyes. So, they had been colluding, working together to lock you and Cash in the basement… this was a dangerous pair that you would need to keep an eye on.

But not tonight.

You scan the room, finding Cash standing head and shoulders above most everyone else, his blue eyes already on you. Flashing him a shy, flirty smile, you tilt your head in the direction of the front door, and he winks at you, immediately moving to the foyer. You bite your lip to keep a smile from breaking out across your face, looking back to Jacob and Charlotte guiltily.

“I don’t think so,” you reply to Jacob’s earlier question, and he rolls his eyes.

“Ugh, get out of here already! If I have to listen to you talk about Cash Ewing one more time…” Jacob warns, shooing you away with a wry grin. You dodge his hands, darting past them to wrap him up in a quick hug before doing the same to Charlotte.

“Thank you, you meddling little jerks,” you tell them both earnestly. “I’ll see you Monday!”

You move through the crowd, waving at everyone that gives you a friendly nod or greeting, eventually making your way to the foyer where Cash is waiting, your coat over his arm. He helps you into it, bundling you up quickly.

“What’s the rush, Officer?” you tease, doing up the buttons on your coat. You bite back a gasp as you feel his hand slip beneath your coat and dress, wandering up your thigh. “Cash!” you hiss, your eyes darting around to make sure that no one is watching.

“There’s a person of interest I’ve had my eye on for awhile,” he replies cheekily, patting his pocket where he had put your underwear. “I believe I made her some promises earlier in the evening that I intend to make good on,” he leers down at you, his gaze heated. You find it hard to breathe.

He takes your hand in his, the gesture as comfortable and natural as breathing to you, and pulls you towards the front door and out into the cold night.

---

[Just FYI, it’s canon that Cash bought the ring from Jacob and kept it to propose to you with when the time came; it meant more to the two of you]

[chaotic-goodsir]

'You got lost, but you made your way back home.

You went and sold your soul, an allegiance dead and gone.'

What if one weird guy was actually three people and I spent all evening listening to Day & Age and trying to draw them? What then?

(Shout out once again to @starpirateee and @scripted-downfall for the pasta.txt fics - I cannot get pasta.txt!Wil out of my brain, so now this drawing exists. I hope you don't mind, and that I did your concept justice!)

[ladiesofhpfest]

Introducing ✨Friday Fic Recs✨

The Ladies of HP fest/server is happy to announce weekly fic recs from now until next year's fest. Every Friday, we will highlight 5-10 female-centric fics! This week, the recs come from your mods, @celestemagnoliathewriter, @artemisia-black, and @merlins-sequined-hotpants.

Going forward, we would love to receive recs in the ask box or in the rec channel on our Discord server. Almost any fic that is female-centric is welcome (exception: fics that feature explicit underage sexual content). We look forward to sharing more recs with you!

Fic Recs for Friday the 13th of October, including part of the summary from the author:

We've Grown Up (but still haven't changed) by @thecasualauthor18. Leading ladies: Black sisters, Andromeda POV. T, 2.2k words. Summary: Andromeda Black Tonks receives a letter from Narcissa, and against her better judgement goes to meet her.

Parvati by @sleepstxtic. Leading lady: Parvati Patil. G, 634 words. Summary: “Like you and appa?” you ask, propping yourself up on the kitchen counter and crossing your legs in anticipation. Your mother’s stories are always the best.

In the Service of Others by @bellmel. Leading lady: Molly Weasley. G, 4.7k words. Molly is not one to sit idle. It isn’t in her nature. She likes being busy, and as the last of her children leave for Hogwarts, Molly never even entertains the idea of staying at home with no company but her own. She needs a job.

Ariadne by @ashesandhackles. Leading lady: Cho Chang. G, 1.1k words. Summary: Exploring Cho's feelings for Harry in wake of her grief for Cedric's death, with symbolism from myth of Ariadne, Theseus and the Minotaur. A surrealistic character study.

Kiss Each Other Clean by @ronsgirlfriday-blog. Leading lady: Hermione Granger. T, 4.3k words. Summary: The war is over and all Hermione wants is to wash it all off of her.

Standing Up by @isidar-mithrim. Leading lady: Minerva McGonagall. G, 4.9k words. Summary: Minerva is powerless in front of Carrows’ tortures, painfully aware there’s only one way to protect her students: don’t protect them. It will be her own students to prove her that hope isn’t lost yet.

stolen glances, stolen cauldrons by @lanaturnergetup. Leading lady: Madam Rosmerta. M, 3k words. Summary: As with most bad experiences in her life, Madam Rosmerta would find that her affair with Mundungus ‘Dung’ Fletcher started out with too much to drink. 

Power by @alohaemora. Leading lady: Angelina Johnson. G, 1.9k words. Summary: "Our hair is power, Angie, it's our history. It tells the world who we are."

If you've got recs for us, drop by the ask box or the rec channel on our Discord server!