#i realized i hadn’t put my latest fic on there so i had to do that at least

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

Tonight on 'things I am doing instead of going to bed when I should be (10:30pm)': beefing up the Writer's Commentaries on my Dreamwidth

[marthawrites]

Between the Covers

Modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend reader

Word count: 3.4k+

Can be read as a one shot but reads best as part two to Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

About: During a cozy night in at your place, Aemond discovers your new taste for “literature”. Upon confronting you about it he makes a deal. Part of you wants to say no… but, you ultimately agree to his terms.

Includes: Established relationship, fluff, teasing, banter, and smut featuring breast play (reader is implied to have sensitive breasts), minor vampire play, pussy eating, vaginal fingering, Aemond loses his mind at the mention of blood sucking, dirty talk, vaginal sex, and reader and Aemond say 'I love you'

Note: Hello lovely reader! This might be ooc for Aemond but it's ic for the Aemond in my heart! My heart and pussy wrote this so if you have a problem with it up take it up with them!! Reader is non-descript! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic ♥

Autumn turned to winter, then winter to spring, and things with you and Aemond were better than ever. According to Aegon the two of you were “disgustingly cute”, and Helaena, on more than one occasion, admitted how she’d never seen her little brother so happy. 

Alys, despite her best efforts, had been fully removed from the picture after the last big fight that had you and Aemond taking a long self-reflecting break. 

Perhaps the universe really did do you a favor by making you face an ugly side of yourself–jealousy, distrustfulness, suspicion. Was it fun to look at in the eyes? No. Absolutely not. But, it made you realize things about yourself which ultimately lead you and Aemond to give the relationship another chance: a real honest chance. 

He too was far from perfect and had his own baggage and scores to settle. But at the end of the day you two were fucking wild for each other. And that’s all that mattered.

While your third floor apartment wasn’t anything compared to the sprawling Targaryen estate, it was cozy and located in one of the nicer neighborhoods in King’s Landing. Any city had its slums and dark underbellies, but thankfully you didn’t have to deal with either of those. Inwardly you were convinced that if you did live in one of those shady places that Aemond would swoop you away to his own private quarter in his family’s mansion. The idea of moving in together had been hinted at a couple times and each time your belly–and heart–did flips. One day, sure, maybe. But, now? You hadn’t even been together for a year yet. Moving in together was a huge commitment.

Perhaps something to consider for your three-year plan. 

Or, one-year plan.

You both had a free day tomorrow, so Aemond took advantage of it and stayed the night. After dinner you took a shower and he waited in your bedroom, searching for something to watch. 

There were so many choices. Why was there always so many choices? It made it such a challenge to actually decide on something!

When you came out with damp hair and your favorite pajamas–a big shirt and cute underwear–you proclaimed, “I saw an A24 movie last night I think we’d both like!”

He looked over at you from where he lay lounging on your bed in black sweats and a white tee, barely contained amusement plastered on his face. “As much as I love those, I’m less interested in movies now that I’ve found this,” he said, holding up the latest book you’ve been reading. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Did you forget to put it back on your shelf? Warmth flooded your face. “Baela was talking about it and she talked it up so much I had to check it out!” You admitted a little too quickly, hiding an embarrassed smile behind a hand.

“Uh-huh,” he smirked. “Vampire smut? If you’re so bored by The Two Towers all you had to do was say something.”

Your eyes–no, your whole face–brightened with shared amusement. “What! No, it’s not smut. There’s plot!” You said defensively (perhaps not convincingly, though, with the giggle), as you hopped on the bed and straddled him. His slim hips fit so easily between your bare, soft thighs, it was almost criminal. Mischief sent his eye twinkling. You took the book from him and cleared your throat, preparing to read the synopsis on the back. “Listen, ‘kay? This explains it really well.”

“Already read the back,” he said, sly. “And comments on goodreads. Seems to be extremely popular with women. There were… lots of caps, exclamation points, sweaty face and fire emojis… rave reviews.” Sometimes when he smiled–really smiled–he had little dimples; they were out on full display, now. He ran his wide, warm palms up your thighs, thumbs skimming dangerously close to that delicate space between your thighs he loved so, so fucking much. “Do you want to know what my favorite part is though?” He asked as if it were a secret.

Goosebumps tickled your skin as he teased you. You didn’t bother to put a bra on and you suddenly became acutely aware of your t-shirt’s texture as your sensitive nipples tightened beneath it. How easily your body reacted to his. “What’s your favorite part?”

He took the book from you and opened it. Smirking, he read Baela’s note she left for you on a post-it sticky, his voice an octave or two higher: “‘chapter 32 might be the hottest thing I’ve ever read in a book. It will change your life.’” He peered up at you with an arched brow. “Have you got to chapter 32 yet?”

You were blushing and giggling and trying so hard to not rip the book from his hands and smother his taunting face with one of your many pillows. “Oh my gosh shut up you are terrible!”

He laughed. “You’re the one reading vampire smut!”

“There’s plot!”

Aemond flexed beneath you and the next thing you knew you were on your back beneath him. His long silver-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and it hung over his shoulder threatening to tickle your face. “My pretty girl still hasn’t answered me,” he said as he pinned you down, lowering to nip your earlobe. “Or will I have to use compulsion to get it out of you, hm?”

You felt his grin against your neck, heard it in his question, and before you could stop yourself a little moan escaped your mouth because he bit you. Really bit you. His teeth, clean and sharp, clamped around a mouthful of your neck. He drew it into his mouth, sucking, and–fuck it was hot–you then understood why women in silly vampire books gave in so easily to the predator. You knew your pulse had to be jumping right there in the flesh he held between his teeth. All those giggles from before vanished and were replaced with small gasps. You squeezed your hands over his shirt-covered shoulders, answering, “n-no… I haven’t read that far yet.”

He relaxed his mouth and licked up the same bit of skin he’d been biting, kissing it softly. “Good,” he replied. “You can read it out loud to me now.”

That perked you right up. “Oh my god Aem! No!” 

“But I’m sooo curious to know what happens when she goes inside the castle. I skimmed the last chapter you were on. Something about him loving the smell of her blood, barely able to control himself around her, and she’s stuck there with him now?”

You were laughing again. “You’re such an ass!”

“Those are very important plot points,” he said smoothly, matter-of-factly. “And it’s chapter 31. So all the tension will lead up to the famous chapter 32.” He kissed you as he spoke; your mouth, jaw, neck, collarbone, whatever he could reach.

You were still laughing, but his kisses relaxed you, too. You pushed your hands up beneath the front of his shirt and gently scraped your fingernails over his abdomen. His chest. You felt his muscles quiver slightly beneath your touch. You loved how his body reacted to you. While stroking between the patch of hair at the center of his chest, and the trail of hair below his navel, you asked, sheepishly, “what if I get embarrassed?”

It was his turn to perk up. Pulling back, he looked down at you with a mixture of deviousness and softness that had your heart flipping. “Let’s make a deal.”

“Why am I have scared to hear this deal? But… okay, let’s hear it,” you replied, smiling and biting your lip.

“As long as you keep reading, I’ll keep eating your pussy.”

Yet another wave of heat rushed to your face and along your spine. You really, really hoped Aemond couldn’t see the blush of your features. Knowing him, however, he probably did… or at least saw the spark of desire, excitement, and embarrassment in your eyes. “You really wanna hear me read this stupid book?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And I wanna eat you too. So, why not both?”

“Well, when you put it that way…,” you mumbled in agreement, grabbing your book and opening to where you last left off.

Aemond shuffled triumphantly and smiled one of those smiles that if he did indeed have fangs they’d certainly be showing. He kissed your throat as he pushed the bottom of your shirt up, grazing his fingertips along your belly as he did so, not stopping until the softness of your breasts melted against his palms. Squeezing the sensitive mounds, he gave your neck one last little nip before lowering to your bared tits. He made a noise in his throat at the sight of them–your pretty nipples peaked with need–and he held each in a hand. Looking up at you he asked, "how long do you think you’ll last reading?” He squished your tits together so your nipples were as close together as they could be. Hot mouth wrapped around one and he sucked, greedily drawing it into his mouth. He relished the sensation as well as your gasp of surprise. He relaxed his mouth and let your tit free only to repeat the motion to the other one.

Fuck. He’d barely started, you hadn’t even begun reading, and you already felt warm tension pull in your belly. Your breasts have always been sensitive. Sometimes when you were feeling especially needy, and Aemond especially wicked, he’d suck your tits until you came. Part of you wondered if he meant to do that now with how he lavished them. “Shit–Aem! Not long if you keep this up…!” You moaned, biting your lip again as your eyelids trembled closed. “Haven’t even let me start yet..!”

A laugh rumbled in his chest. “You’re right…,” he said, slowly circling his tongue around and between your nipples. “Go ahead and start reading then, baby. I’ll get nice and comfortable between these thighs.” 

True to his word, he did. Your boyfriend meant to murder you. Without a fucking doubt. Straight up murder.

With a shuddering breath you began to read aloud.

Aemond kissed over your covered pussy, not yet bothering to move your underwear aside or take them off. He wasn’t trying to be especially distracting yet, but he loved knowing you were wet and eager for him. He kissed the insides of your thighs–that impossibly soft dip where your thigh met your pelvis–and even the underswell of your asscheeks as your legs spilled open. He knew right where your clit was. He licked over it through your panties. Teasing. Coaxing. Hoping to hear your voice warble with want.

It did. There was no way you’d be able to keep this up for the rest of the chapter as well as the next chapter. The main female character, a human, had just re-dressed into something suitable for dinner. In this case, a gown that complimented the color of her skin and shape of her body. And the main male character, a vampire, was waiting for her to finish. Before this, the tension had indeed been all over the place. Blood, desire, lust, everything sinful about the undying charisma of vampires. At the end of the chapter she walked downstairs only to make him utterly darken with lust. And, at the end of the chapter, Aemond pulled the front of your panties aside to finally give the full length of your pussy a hot, slow lick. You gasped in time with the main female character’s gasp.

“Think he sinks his teeth into her pretty neck and finally takes what he wants?” Aemond asked, low and somewhat muffled, as he turned his gaze up to your heated face.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You half thought he was joking about the whole thing! But… then again, you knew Aemond pretty damn well by now and knew he wasn’t the prankster type. You moaned softly at the slow, wonderful feeling of his tongue on your clit. Then, you answered in a shaky breath, “it’s the temptation. He worships her. Or… at least her blood. He won’t tear her apart. He needs her.”

He made one of his classic little ‘mmm’s in thought. “Keep reading, baby. I’m dying to see what happens.” Another lick, another kiss to your most sensitive bud, and a gentle suck. 

Fuck–if he kept this up?! Pleasure rippled up your body in goosebumps and your voice shook as you read into the new chapter.

Somehow the book tension intensified even further. Between that, and how Aemond continued to slowly eat you, your head felt dizzy. Really, honest to God, you didn’t know how much more you could take. Then, the next line started to crumble some of that tension: “The vampire lord kissed the top of the lady’s hand, and when he did his fingers grazed the delicate webbing of veins on the underside of her wrist. Her scent bloomed beneath him. A perfume. His jaw ached with the need to consume. To consume her.”

Aemond picked up pace, too, as did your pulse. He balanced you on the edge of bliss and wouldn’t yet let you go. 

You began to stammer over words. You even left some unfinished. Because now you read a scene that was strikingly similar to your current situation. The vampire had his lady laid back and sprawled on the staircase, her skirts bunched high, his starved tongue feasting between her thighs.

Aemond groaned appreciatively. He worked you higher and higher, selfishly making it harder for you to read out loud, and savored each and every little dip and rise of your voice. His good girl. So fun, and playful, and willing to entertain his silly ideas. God, he loved you. He memorized all the signs of orgasm in your body. He could hear them. Feel them. He knew you were getting close, but he didn’t want you to come yet. There was still more to be read. Right before climax could claim you, he stopped.

“Aemond!” You squealed, near breathless. You looked down at him, accusatory, blissful eyes glaring. “Not fair!”

“Did I forget to mention I’ll only let you come when I want you to? Sorry, love, my bad.”

“How convenient of you,” you retorted.

“Do keep going though? I have a feeling he’ll need a taste of her blood now that he’s tasted her cunt.”

Begrudgingly, you did. And, as luck would have it… (did he read ahead while you were in the shower!?): “The vampire lord’s cock strained in his breeches, throbbing with a pulsing need that sent his mind to delirium. He never craved anything so badly as he did her.”

Aemond made more of those ‘mmm’s in agreement as he started to slowly work you up again. He pressed his tongue into you and let his nose rub against your clit. His hands rubbed and squeezed over any part of your body he could. Waist, belly, hips, thighs, anything; he loved all of it. He could lay here and do this all fucking night–vampire smut or no.

It became harder and harder to keep reading. Between little moans, whimpers, and firm bites to your lip, you kept trying. By now, the chapter progressed to both of them in various stages of undress on the staircase. “The vampire lord claimed her body with his hot, rigid manhood. At the same time he filled her with his cock, he sunk his teeth into her neck.”

After that you were no longer able to make words. A finger replaced Aemond’s tongue as his mouth lavished your clit. You dropped the book and neither of you seemed to care anymore. One of your hands gripped into his hair–more than likely making the sleek pull back of his ponytail a mess–while your other hand played with your breasts. Seemingly effortlessly, a second finger joined the first and your hips rolled in a desperate need for more. “A-ah yes!”

A soft dark laugh rumbled from him as he watched you from below. “You’re so fucking wet your pussy just sucked my finger in. I barely had to move it. Getting close again, my love?” He asked as those two deft, long fingers worked your inner walls with blinding precision. “I love how you were blushing and fumbling with your words when you read. Fuck–you’re so pretty with my fingers in you.”

A familiar tightness began to build in your legs. The inside of your thighs started to tremble. Your head, fuzzy as it already was, buzzed with your body’s anticipation. Pleasure. So much pleasure. Your fingers tweaked your nipples for that extra little push, and apparently that’s exactly what you needed.

Aemond’s tongue was on your clit again, quick and light compared to the harsh way he fingerfucked you. This time he didn’t edge you along.

Orgasm, beautiful and consuming, swallowed you into a starless dark. When you came back to yourself your head was heavy. The tips of your fingers tingled. Everything felt light. Like you weren’t quite inside your own body yet. “What the fuck Aems…,” you whispered, smiling like a dork.

That was one of the best orgasms and he fucking knew it. He had to know it. 

He carefully rolled away from you to let you catch your breath. “Better than the book?”

“Without question.”

He grinned as he watched you regain yourself. Once he was sure you were okay he pulled you on top of his naked form. When did he take his clothes off? “Always so sweet to me,” he said with that same grin. “I can still taste you on my tongue and need to feel you on my cock. Now.”

You didn't need to be told twice. Your body was ready for him as soon as he moved you atop him. He looked so good, so handsome, so devastatingly perfect as he sat there against your headboard, your bodies meshing together so well. His lean arms wrapped around you, nails scratching down your back, as you lined up with him.

The stretch was unfuckingbelievable. 

Moaning in unison, he rolled his hips up into you with one hand gripped on your waist. Your breasts squished against the firm planes of his. Your scent, your skin, your lust all around him. The squeeze of your cunt around his entire length had him half crazy. There wouldn't be any more teasing. 

You ground onto him, desperate to fuck him as silly as he had fingered you. 

One of his hands gripped the hair at the back of your head and tugged downwards, exposing the fullness of your throat to him. Your neck. He bit you again–all but sinking his teeth into your flesh–and fucked up into you with added fervor. 

“God!” You squeaked, whimpering through your surprise. “Yes, yes, yes, keep biting me..!” You pleaded, bouncing on him in time with his upward rolls.

That's how you both stayed–his teeth on your neck, your fingernails leaving pink scratches on his pale skin, grinding and fucking each other with raw desire–until climax washed over both of you.

You were both panting, a little sweaty, and intoxicated by each other.

A couple minutes later, amidst pillow talk and teasing one another, Aemond asked, “would you read more to me another time?”

You looked at him cheekily. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I’m very interested in the plot,” he said with obvious innuendo. “And I don’t think you quite understand what you saying words like ‘cock’ ‘cunt’ and ‘blood sucking’ does to me.”

That sent you into another fit of giggles. “You’re insane!”

He rolled on top of you and smirked down at you. “Well?” He asked, grazing the tip of his nose against yours.

“Okay, okay. Yeah, I will.”

Pulling the blankets up around your bodies, you turned on the movie you mentioned earlier. Aemond laid on his back and scooped you against him, legs immediately intertwining with one another. Sated. Happy; even as your skin pleasantly burned where he left dark hickies behind.

“Thanks for that. It was a lot of fun,” he whispered against the crown of your head.

“Yeah it was,” you agreed. “I love you, Aem.”

“I love you too.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

See comment section for my main taglist and Aemond taglist! To be added or removed from either, please hit me up!

[03jyh23]

🚪⌇not like the previous ones┆kang yeosang

yeosang x gn!reader

│synopsis: the one where i love you scares the life out of you

│genre: hurt/comfort

│trigger warnings: anxiety, insecurity in relationships, feelings of guilt and regret, past trauma from previous relationships mentioned

│words: 3.3 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

│the requested prompts are bold

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! the time has finally come for my first yeosang fic~ when i saw the request sangie was the first member that came to my mind so i just went for it! thank you for requesting!

love, monika ♡

It was a late evening, and you were comfortably curled up against Yeosang, enjoying the warmth and closeness as you both settled in to watch a movie he had chosen. He had promised that next time, he would watch Titanic with you, knowing how much you loved it. However, for this evening, he was especially eager to watch the latest Marvel movie recently added to the streaming platforms. You could feel Yeosang's excitement radiating through as he explained why he was so looking forward to this film. His body was warm, and the sensation of feeling him so near provided you with a comfort you hadn’t felt in a long while. Yeosang and you had just recently started dating, and it was difficult for you to open up to someone new. Letting yourself go and releasing all the worries and wounds your earlier relationships had left you with was not easy. Yet, Yeosang was so gentle and patient with you that you couldn't help but start gravitating toward him. Your eyes drifted away from the TV screen for a moment, only to find Yeosang staring at you with his pretty, brown eyes. Those eyes, which seemed to see nothing but you, held a world of warmth and affection. You smiled gently at him, your brow furrowing slightly as you mouthed, "What?" His gaze was so tender that it made your heart flutter. 

Yeosang opened his mouth only to close it again. He smiled at you, and you swear you could melt at the way his eyes smiled, creating those crescent moons. You giggled softly, feeling shy all of a sudden, and you put your head on his shoulder, leaning even closer to him. As the movie played on, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the screen, your mind drifting to how fortunate you felt to have someone like Yeosang by your side. He gently wrapped his arm around you, the simple gesture made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself. The comfort you felt in his presence was something you hadn't experienced in a long time, and it made you realize just how much you had needed to feel this way. 

You tried to focus on the movie, but your fluttering heart made it hard to do so. Every scene seemed to blur together as your mind wandered. After a small while, your eye caught a glimpse of Yeosang staring at you once again. You felt warmth spreading throughout your face, a blush creeping up your cheeks. 

Yeosang didn't look away; instead, he smiled gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. That smile was enough to make you feel like the most special person in the world. You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a sense of happiness. The movie played on, but it was clear that neither of you was paying much attention to it anymore. 

"Sangie!" You smiled, punching his arm gently. "You wanted to watch the movie, yet you aren't paying attention!" 

Yeosang chuckled softly, rubbing the spot where you had playfully punched him. "I can't help it," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "I find you much more interesting than any movie." His words made your heart flutter even more. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks and tried to hide your face by snuggling closer into his shoulder. Yeosang tilted his head slightly, resting it on top of yours. "You know, you don't have to hide from me," he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. 

"You just... you are too sweet, and it's embarrassing how red my face probably is right now," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks, and you were certain that your face was now a deep shade of crimson. 

Yeosang's hand gently traced small circles on your back, his touch soothing and reassuring. "You don't have to be embarrassed," he murmured softly. "I think it's adorable." 

His words made your heart flutter even more, and you couldn't help but smile against his shoulder. "I just... I'm not used to someone being so kind and caring," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "It's a little overwhelming." 

Yeosang gently moved his arms away from you, his hands on your shoulders, making you stop hiding your face, so you were facing each other. His touch was tender, and the sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. You could feel your heart racing, the vulnerability of the moment making you feel both exposed and cherished. 

He took a deep breath as if to steady himself, and without much thought, he blurted out, "Y/N, of course I treat you kindly. I mean, that's how you show you love a person." 

You felt your heart sink, and panic rushed through you. The words echoed in your mind, and you found it hard to breathe. Yeosang noticed your reaction and quickly added, "I didn't mean to scare you. I just... I love you, Y/N. And I want you to know that you're safe with me." 

You abruptly backed away from Yeosang's hold, swallowing hard. Your eyes couldn't focus, your thoughts were racing. Even when you opened your mouth to answer, nothing came out. 

Yeosang's expression shifted instantly, concern clouding his face. He reached out tentatively, yet you smoothly escaped from his touch. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong," he murmured, his voice tinged with worry. 

"I... um... I just, yeah thank you but you should really get going," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy, laden with the weight of your insecurities and fears. You couldn't meet Yeosang's eyes, afraid of seeing the hurt and confusion that you knew would be there. 

There was a moment of silence, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Yeosang hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to respect your wishes and the urge to stay and comfort you. Finally, he nodded slowly, his expression a mix of sadness and understanding. "Okay," he said softly, his voice gentle. With that, he stood up and made his way to the door, leaving you alone with your swirling emotions and the lingering warmth of his presence. 

The night was spent in creeping and paralyzing guilt, that held you in a chokehold. Every time you closed your eyes, the scene replayed in your mind: Yeosang's hurt expression, the way his shoulders slumped as he walked out the door, and the heavy silence that followed. You tossed and turned, unable to find any semblance of peace. The weight of your insecurities and fears bore down on you, making it difficult to breathe. You couldn't shake the feeling that you had pushed away someone who genuinely cared for you, someone who had only shown you kindness and patience. The guilt gnawed at you, making sleep an impossible task. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, wishing you could turn back time and handle the situation differently. The night stretched on, each minute feeling like an eternity as you were held captive by your own remorse and regret. 

You lost count of how many times you picked up your phone and tried to type any sort of text to Yeosang, yet nothing seemed to be suitable. Each time you began to write, your fingers would hover over the keyboard, paralyzed by doubt and fear. You would type a few words, only to delete them moments later, convinced they weren't enough to convey what you truly felt. You wanted to apologize, to explain, to assure him that your reaction was a result of your own insecurities and not a reflection of his actions. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't find the right way to express the turmoil inside you. The more you struggled, the more frustrated you became, until eventually, you would put your phone down with a heavy sigh, the message unsent and your heart still aching. 

A few days passed, and you tried to fall back into your routine to keep your thoughts in check. You immersed yourself in anything that could distract you, but the emptiness left by Yeosang's absence was hard to ignore. During those days, you found yourself repeatedly checking your phone, hoping for a message from Yeosang, but the screen remained stubbornly blank. Each day without a word from him felt like a sharp pang in your heart, making it harder to hold onto the hope that things could be mended. 

You knew it was high time to start making peace with the undeniable truth: you had lost Yeosang. 

Or maybe you should just reach out to him like an adult should, and face your insecurities? After all, you owed it to yourself and him to be honest about your feelings and fears. But then again, what if Yeosang had just given up on you? What if he did not want to be there for you, ever? The thought of losing him for good made your heart ache even more. Yet, despite these fears, you could not ignore how kind and attentive he had always been. If he genuinely loved you, wouldn't he reach out himself? But perhaps he was waiting for you to make the first move, to show that you were willing to open up and fight for the relationship. 

It was yet another evening you spent sprawled out on your couch. You had already binge-watched half of the season of the hottest drama, and it started to tire you. The dramatic scenes on the screen seemed distant, unable to hold your attention any longer. Lying down, munching on chips, and watching TV had indeed made you tired. 

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. You shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but no amount of rearranging seemed to ease the discomfort within you. 

As you lay there, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts drifted back to that night with Yeosang. The memory of his hurt expression and the sadness in his eyes haunted you. You replayed the scene over and over in your mind, wishing you could go back and handle things differently. 

The ceiling above you offered no answers, just a blank canvas for your swirling thoughts. You wondered what Yeosang was doing, if he was thinking about you too, or if he had already moved on. All you could do was lie there, staring at the ceiling, and hope that somehow, you would find the courage to face your fears and reach out to Yeosang. 

A sudden doorbell ring startled you, sending a jolt through your body. Your heart began to race, the unexpected sound breaking the silence and stillness of your evening. With each step toward the door, you felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through you. You could barely hold your curiosity and hope as you reached for the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside you. Finally, with a sense of urgency and a fluttering heart, you swung the door open, revealing Yeosang standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers. His eyes met yours, and you could see a mix of hope and apprehension in them. The sight of him standing there, flowers in hand, made your heart skip a beat. 

"Yeosang," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. The sight of him standing there, so close yet seemingly so far, made your heart ache. 

"Hey," he said softly, his voice carrying a gentle warmth. "I know we left things in a pretty rough spot, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. I wanted to make things right." 

"I'm so sorry—" you managed to say before Yeosang interrupted you. 

"No, please, let me speak first," he said, his voice urgent yet tender. "I've missed you so much, and I can't stand the thought of us being apart because of.... whatever that was. I want to be with you, Y/N, and I want to help you through whatever you're feeling." His words hung in the air, filled with sincerity and a deep yearning. You nodded slowly as you felt a lump form in your throat, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through you. "I am not like the previous assholes that played with you," Yeosang began, his voice trembling slightly as he took a deep breath. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination and sincerity. "I know you've been hurt before, and I understand that it's hard for you to trust again. But I'm not them." He paused, his gaze never wavering, giving you time to absorb his words. 

The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache, and you could feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you. 

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to show you that," he continued, his voice steadying but still filled with emotion. "If earning your love means proving myself repeatedly, that's what I'll do. Because I truly love you." He paused again, his eyes searching for any sign of understanding. "I am ready to work through every challenge, every fear, and every doubt with you," he said, his voice growing stronger with each word. "You can't get rid of me that easy." A small, determined smile appeared on his face, and you could see the resolve in his eyes. "I want to be there for you, to support you, and to make sure you feel safe and cherished," he said, his voice softening as he took a step closer, finally entering your apartment. The proximity made your heart flutter even more, "We can take this one step at a time, together." 

You felt a surge of emotion, your eyes welling up with tears. The vulnerability in his voice and the sincerity in his eyes made you realize just how much he cared for you. Your heart swelled with gratitude and love, and you knew that this was a moment you would always cherish. 

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming back," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and lingering fear. You took a few steps closer, finally closing the distance between you. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you rested your cheek on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, which momentarily made you relax. Yeosang’s scent enveloped you, a familiar and comforting aroma that brought back memories of your first date. You noticed he had put on the cologne you had complimented back then, a small but significant gesture that showed how much he cared. 

"I never wanted to leave in the first place," he replied, his voice filled with earnestness. Yeosang finally wrapped one arm around you, pulling you gently but firmly closer. His head rested on top of yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your hair. The worries and insecurities that had plagued you for days began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully absorb the comfort and love that radiated from Yeosang. 

"I've missed this," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. 

"Me too," he replied softly, his voice vibrating through his chest and into your ear. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere." 

His words were like a balm to your wounded heart, and you couldn't help but tighten your embrace, holding onto him as if he were your lifeline. You looked up at him as you pulled out of the hug, smiling softly at him. You couldn't even begin to describe how glad you were to see him again, to hear and feel how much he cared. The emotions that had been swirling inside you for days seemed to settle, replaced by a sense of peace and relief. 

Yeosang finally handed you the flowers, "These are for you," he said gently, his voice filled with warmth and tenderness. 

You took the bouquet from him, your fingers brushing against his momentarily. The flowers were beautiful, vibrant, and fresh, and they brought a smile to your face. You couldn't help but bring them to your nose, inhaling their delicate fragrance. 

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. The simple act of receiving the flowers made you feel cherished and valued in a way you hadn't felt before. "Nobody ever got me flowers," you whispered, your voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and gratitude. 

Yeosang's expression softened even more, his eyes never leaving yours. "Well, get used to it," he said gently, his voice filled with warmth. "Because I plan on giving you many more flowers, and so much more." 

"I am so stupid for not telling you then, but I love you too, Sangie," you confessed in a rush, your voice trembling with emotion. 

Yeosang couldn't help but smile at your confession, yet he quickly composed himself and took a few steps back, confusing you. Then his eyes widened right before he looked down on the floor. He ran his hand through his hair, and your heart dropped. You watched him closely, trying to decipher his sudden change. The room seemed to grow quieter, the tension thickening with each passing second. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. Yeosang took a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of contemplation. His eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—surprise, uncertainty, and something else you couldn't quite place. He seemed to be grappling with his thoughts, the silence stretching on and making you feel more anxious. 

"Oh..." he gasped loudly, his eyes widening in mock surprise before continuing, "Um… I mean, thanks, but I better get going," he teased, his voice dripping with fake urgency as he mimicked your reaction from a few days ago. 

You couldn't help but scoff at his words, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. You playfully punched his arm, the force light but enough to convey your amusement. Bursting into laughter, you shook your head at his antics. "You jerk," you said, giggling uncontrollably as you remembered the original incident he was referring to. 

Yeosang laughed along with you, his eyes shining with joy. "I couldn't resist," he admitted, wrapping his arms around you once more. "But seriously, I love you, and I'm here to stay." His words were filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with happiness. 

You looked up at him, feeling a sense of relief and warmth wash over you. "I love you too, Yeosang," you whispered, your voice steady and sincere. "And I'm ready to face everything with you. No more running away." 

Yeosang's smile widened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. "That's all I needed to hear," he murmured against your skin. "We'll take it one step at a time, together." 

You nodded, feeling a newfound sense of hope and determination. With Yeosang by your side, you knew you could face anything. The fears and insecurities that had once held you back began to fade, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you were not alone. 

"So, about that Titanic showing?" Yeosang asked, a playful glint in his eyes. 

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Yeah, I think we can make that happen," you replied, smiling up at him. "How about tomorrow night?" 

Yeosang's eyes lit up with excitement. "It's a date," he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your lips. 

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

♡│requests are open │

│ it has come to my attention that a lot of ageless/blank blogs have started to interact with my fics. while i appreciate your interest in my writing, i want to remind everyone that my blog is for adults only. it only takes a moment to personalize your blog and add your age. please take a moment to do so. this way, it will be easier for everyone and will save me from having to go through all my notifications to block blank/ageless blogs.│

[acewritesfics]

Hopelessly In Love | Tommy Shelby

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Sarcasm, teasing, two idiots in love.

Word Count: 1,821

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

“I need you," Y/N hears from behind her and turns around to see her best friend standing there, looking exasperated. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N. I sincerely hope your day is going well,” she begins sarcastically as she finishes hanging her mother's latest shipment of dresses on the racks.

Y/N works in her mother's boutique. A boutique in Small Heath sounded ridiculous considering the surroundings but her mother had opened the store, claiming that women needed a nice place to shop among the smoke and grime. “Well Thomas, it’s going so well that I’m sure nothing will bother me for the rest of the day, even when my best friend storms in like some neanderthal claiming he needs me like it’s a matter of life or death.” 

Tommy stood there, his hands in his pocket, looking at her unimpressed, his brows creased into a frown. A smug smirk stretches across her face. 

“What can I do you for, Tommy?” She asks, moving back behind the counter. 

“I need you to go to the races with me,” he tells her removing his hands from his pockets and stepping closer to the counter.  

“What? Has Hell frozen over or is it finally the day women have stopped throwing themselves at Thomas Shelby’s feet?” She teases her childhood friend. “Oh, Tommy, it must be hard,” she says pouting, giving her him a look of false sympathy.  

“Shut it, you,” he glares at her, elbows resting on the counter as he leans forward. “I’m being serious.” 

“Why do you want to take me to the races?” She questions him. They hadn’t been to the races together since before the war. It was sort of their tradition, one that was so easily forgotten when the war was over, and Tommy had thrown himself into making a better name for the Shelby’s. Instead of making the name better, he also made it fearful. “Why don’t you take that pretty barmaid you seem so smitten with. Or Lizzy, who’s more than eager to have a proper date with you.” 

“Why should I take them when I can take you, eh?” he asks, watching her as she busies herself with the clutter on the counter. She looks unsure but Tommy can tell that she’s thinking hard about it. “What are you afraid of?” 

“That you’ll forget all about the barmaid and fall hopelessly in love with me again,” she quips with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just like when we were kids. You could never resist my charm and we don't want to break the barmaid's poor treacherous heart.” 

Y/N couldn't deny that she did like Grace, the barmaid Harry had hired, at first. She seemed lovely and got along quite well with her until she realized Grace was asking her a lot of questions about Tommy. At first, she thought the blonde woman fancied her best friend and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Grace wasn't the first woman to end up with a crush on the blue-eyed devil. Tommy wasn't hard to fall in love with. But when she started asking her about the Shelby family business and the Peaky Blinders, she became suspicious that Grace's interest in Tommy wasn't as genuine as she made it out to be. And then there was the time she caught Grace eavesdropping and snooping around. She began to put two and two together. 

An Irish inspector and a pretty Irish woman, step foot in Small Heath at the same time. The barmaid, who's never actually worked in a pub before now, conveniently gets herself a job at the Garrison, the pub the Shelby Brothers frequent often and just so happens to set her eyes on the leader of the Peaky Blinders.  

She'd tried to talk to Tommy about it, but the stubborn man wouldn't hear any of it so she went to Polly who had also done the math. For a man who claimed to be smart, he became the stupidest idiot she's ever met when it comes to a pretty face. 

“I knew that love tea would have consequences,” he smiles thinking of the times they sat with his mother while she did what she called magic. He purposefully ignores her comment about Grace. He didn't want to talk or think about her right now. His sole focus is on convincing Y/N to go to the races with him, like old times and how he'd promised her all those years ago. “Maybe it’s why I never stopped being hopelessly in love with you.” 

"Don't tell Grace that," she says looking back at him before moving on to inspect the next dress, a pretty deep forest green with black beading and a black lace hem. 

"Fuck Grace," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "This is about us." 

"There is no us, Tommy," she sighs and moves on to the red dress that's not as pretty as the green.  

"Just come to the races with me," he begins. "I haven't taken you in a while. Let me take you again." 

"Do I have a choice?"  

He shakes his head, "No." 

She looks at him, her brows creased into a frown showing her frustration.  

"Wear the green one," he adds, dropping £7 onto the counter.  

"It's only worth £5," she informs him, knowing there is no point in arguing with him. Once Tommy was set on something, there was no stopping him. 

"Buy something to go with it," he suggests. "Maybe some new shoes," he adds as he takes the dress off the mannequin and hands it to her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before he starts making his way out of the store. "I'll pick you up at 8:30 tomorrow morning." 

"I despise you, Thomas Shelby," she calls after him. 

"And I love you, Y/N L/N" he says when he reaches the door and turns to look at her once more. "Hopelessly love you." 

Her smile goes from ear to ear this time as she watches him leave, with a slight shake of her head. She turns to go back to the counter to wrap the dress up and startles when she sees her mother standing there, a knowing smirk on her lips.  

"It's about time that boy made his move," her mother says, taking the dress from her and folds it neatly on the paper they use to wrap the clothing in. "Better late than never, I guess." 

"It's not like that, Mum," she says picking up the £7 Tommy left and placing it inside the till.  

"Of course, it is," her mum argues, walking towards where the shoes are and picks out a pair of black t-strap heels, to match the beading on the dress and brings them over to the counter. "Thomas Shelby has been in love with you since you were both five years old and you've been in love with him for just as long," she adds placing the shoebox on the counter next to the dress. "Don't waste any more time, Darling." 

"I do love him," she admits. "Some days I wonder why." 

"And you'll have plenty more of those days," her mum chuckles. "Now get out of here and go rest up for tomorrow."  

"I love you, mum," she says hugging the woman who gave her life.  

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I must admit, I did miss this," Y/N says, sitting across the table from Tommy as they sat in the VIP area of the racecourse, in the forest green with black beading dress he paid for and heels her mother picked out. 

After a successful day at the races, they made their way up to the VIP lounge where they got a drink, a meal and did some dancing. Tommy was unable to keep his eyes off her from the moment he saw her standing on the curb waiting for him to pick her up. It made driving a little difficult since he tried his hardest to concentrate on the road and not the beautiful woman sitting next him. And then when they got to the races, he glared down, silently threatening the men who dared to let their eyes linger on her.  

"Do you remember the first time we snuck in here?" he asks her, a soft smile on his lips. Leaning back, he watches her as she thinks back to it.  

They were 16 at the time and she had come along with him, his brothers and his father. He'd been to the races plenty of times before, but she'd never been until that day. They both got dressed in their finest clothes back then, which were nowhere near the standard of clothing they were in today. Tommy had tried to talk his way into the VIP section, using that silver tongue of his that he had been born with. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and they had found a space in the back that they could use to sneak into the elegant area reserved for the wealthy.  

They'd spent 10 minutes in the area before they were escorted out and off the grounds of the racecourse and were made to wait there until his dad returned from being inside. That night Tommy had made her a promise. 

"I promise that one day, I will buy you the prettiest dress and we'll go back there, and they'll let us in. When they do, we'll spend the night dancing and when I take you home afterwards, I'll kiss you goodnight." 

She feels her heart skip a beat as she remembers word for word what he had promised her. As she got older, she had always played it off as a silly childish promise that held no real meaning.  

Tommy stood up from his chair and moved round the table, standing beside her as he held his hand out towards her. "Let's go home, Love." 

Y/N takes his hand and stands up, grabbing her clutch off the table and lets him lead her back to his vehicle.  

Once they arrive at the passenger's side, Tommy decides he can't wait until he drops her off home. Stopping her from getting into the car, he pulls her close, a hand on her waist and the other caresses her cheek. 

"Tommy," her voice comes out as a whisper as her heart jumps into her throat at the little space left between them.  

"I can't wait," he breathes, his voice soft as he plants his lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss. Both their eyes flutter closed as a rush of warmth envelopes them as they pull each other as close as they can, deepening the kiss. 

Tommy is the one to end it when they start to become breathless. "I am hopelessly in love with you." 

"I know," she says, unable to hide her grin as she kisses him again. "I am hopelessly in love with you too, Thomas Shelby." 

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - @goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @rainydayteacups - @alexxavicry

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[specialinterestshows]

Watch your metamour’s title match in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic, Absolute Smokeshow.

(Yes, I am aware I already have a fic by this title. No, I do not care.)

Warnings for this section: Social anxiety, manipulation/gaslighting, parasocial relationships, dubcon ass-slapping, cannabis (weed) mention

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 74 of ?): Locker Room Talk

After watching Dominik do stretches and warmups, talking about anything that came to mind to make him (and yourself) feel more at ease, and listening to the Judgment Day and JD give him pep talks, you were wishing Dom good luck and sitting in full view of the locker room television. There were a few other wrestlers milling around, but they were either otherwise occupied or avoiding you. Because of whatever people say about your girlfriend? Because of what the media is saying about you? Because you aren’t part of the show, despite being in the locker room?

You tried to put the thought out of your mind as the match began on the screen in front of you.

There was just enough time for you to see Rhea on the sidelines, before Trick Williams rapidly gained the upper hand with a few blows. The two men grappled before Dom got a kick in and you quickly found yourself invested in a way you hadn’t been before. There was something about the match that began beautifully, like a dance, almost. The rhythm and movement enthralled you in the moments between pauses, to the point where you were gasping in awe and chuckling in wonder instead of cheering. Maybe you hadn’t experienced the sport like this before because the only matches you had been interested in watching had been Rhea’s. Your mind went directly into the gutter when you saw her fighting, especially with the way she pinned her opponents.

And now? Strangely enough, you were beginning to understand why someone might risk fame for the chance at doing something like this.

You were watching the screen so intently, the sudden appearance of Jacy Jayne in your vision made you jump.

“My girl and I just won,” she sneered, leaning in to grab her bag from the locker next to you before whispering, “How about you and yours?”

Glancing at the screen again, trying to ignore her at first, you smiled at what was happening.

“See for yourself,” you told her, gesturing to the television just in time to make her turn to watch the Judgment Day celebrating and running up to Dom before the replay reel. Your heart swelled with happiness watching your girlfriend cheer and throw an arm around her boyfriend.

“Hey, what’re we watching?” Jacy’s excitable tag team partner from earlier bounced into the locker room, holding a freshly-filled water bottle. Noticing you, she didn’t even wait for an answer before saying, “Hi! I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Thea” - she reached out and shook your hand vigorously - “Are you new to NXT?”

Jacy scoffed.

“That’s just Rhea Ripley’s newest little toy,” she told Thea, who now seemed uncertain how to act toward you and settled for imitating her tag team partner’s current pose - arms crossed, leaning away slightly.

“Doesn’t even realize she’s being played,” Jacy continued, “It’s pathetic. You want to know what everyone says about Rhea?” - she was addressing you now - “She’s only nice to the people she uses. Minion, distraction, press stunt - you’re at least one of those. You’ll be old news soon enough.”

The screen - now showing Dom holding the title and all four members of the Judgment Day with their arms around each other - came back into full view as the two women walked away, passing a slightly breathless JD McDonagh in the doorway. Something about Jacy’s comment seemed very specific. It was difficult to know exactly why, until you watched her and Thea depart.

“Come on, sexy,” Jacy said as she held the door open, giving Thea’s ass a hungry look before smacking it, “I’m going to show you how grown-ass women celebrate a win together.”

The last you saw of Thea, she was glancing back at you, looking conflicted as Jacy’s arm snaked around her waist.

“Hello?” it wasn’t until JD waved his hand in front of you that you realized he had been trying to talk to you this entire time, “Are you okay?”

“Jacy is awful,” you groaned, trying to ignore the fact that you were second-guessing yourself thanks to her comments, “Doesn’t anyone realize what she’s doing?”

“Shit, did she try to rough you up?” JD asked, giving you a quick once-over for signs of blood or swelling.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you tell him, despite the uneasiness at your core, “I mean, she wasn’t nice… but someone needs to get her away from Thea.”

“HR won’t intervene unless she says she wants to get away from her partner,” JD said, “Besides, that’s not our job; we’re focused on making sure the Judgment Day remains the most dominant faction in the WWE.”

“We’re also focused on keeping Rhea’s girl safe,” Damian huffed, glaring at JD as Rhea, Dom, and Finn walked in behind him, “Y no hables como eres parte de nuestro grupo.”

“Go easy on him, babe,” Finn said softly, putting a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, “He’s helped a lot today” - Finn lowered his voice, lust dripping in every word - “Think of how good it’s going to be when we celebrate later, just the two of us.”

JD looked slightly uncomfortable at this particular method of persuading Damian to go easy on him, but wasn’t about to complain when Damian’s attention shifted to Finn instead.

“Principe mío,” he muttered, caressing Finn’s face and leaning in to whisper something none of you could hear. JD sat down by the door, awkwardly waiting for the group’s next move as your girlfriend and metamour approached you.

“So, did you see Dom’s big win?” Rhea asked, sitting down next to you and putting an arm around your shoulders.

“I did! Congrats on getting your title back,” you said, addressing Dom as he strutted toward the two of you with his title belt over one shoulder.

“How did you want to celebrate, babe?” Rhea asked him as he sat down on the other side of her.

He considered the question for a moment as you let the weight on your shoulders relax you a bit. Unfortunately, the situation with Jacy and Thea seemed to have left an uncalmable anxiety in your stomach, slightly different from what you had been feeling for the majority of today. You needed a joint.

“Can we get some munchies and go smoke?” Dom seemed to be asking you as much as Rhea, knowing you were the only one with a supply.

“You actually read my mind,” you laugh.

“Let’s do it,” your girlfriend agreed, giving both of you a kiss on the cheek before standing, turning, and putting out both of her hands to pull the both of you up at once.

“Next thing you know, she’ll be bench-pressing them,” Damian jokes, “Go ahead, I’ll spot you.”

“How about you bring the car around instead?” Rhea responded, rolling her eyes despite having initially smiled at the comment, “We’re going on a snack run.”

[end part seventy-four of ?]

Part 75: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/753746500888166400/absolute-smokeshow-part-75-of-fast-feud

-

Tag list (thank you!)

@littlemiss-fanficlover , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister

[tiannasfanfic]

Jackass

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: When the cast of a popular reality tv stunt show is hired to perform in Corroded Coffin’s new video, Eddie Munson finds himself an unwilling participant, as well as a new love interest.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns, no Y/N. Strangers to lovers, Rockstar!Eddie x Jackass!Reader, early 2000’s setting. I’d like to give a huge shoutout to the Eddie’s Sluts Discord Server, particularly @strangerxperv and @kleenexwoman for their encouragement to turn this very stupid idea of mine into a fic. 🖤💜

CW: Slight Fuckboy!Eddie x Fuckgirl!Reader in the beginning; allusions of hooking up; surprise tazing; mention of a ankle injury (no details).

Word Count: 1,539

WARNING! The following show features stunts performed either by professionals or under the supervision of professionals. Accordingly, MTV and the producers must insist that no one attempt to recreate or re-enact any stunt or activity performed on this show.

One of the songs on Corroded Coffin’s latest album is a fun, upbeat rock song about doing stupid shit when you’re young. All four members contributed stories for it, as well as some of their friends, but while it was extremely fun to write, everyone just assumed it would fly under the radar.

We all know what they say about assuming.

The song quickly blew up upon the album’s release with audiences finding it funny and extremely relatable. The label quickly began promoting it as a single and a music video was ordered to be made.

While the guys had the initial idea of the video, which was to show each one of them taking turns doing the stupid stuff Eddie was singing about, the director took it a step further. The crew of MTV’s hit show Jackass are brought in both to ramp the situations up to ridiculous levels and execute them while Corroded Coffin performs in the background just slightly out of harm’s way.

Gareth, Jeff, and Grant are all hyped since they are big fans of the show, but it isn’t all that exciting for Eddie. He’s never seen it. The whole concept has always sounded stupid as hell to him, which is only reinforced every time someone makes him watch clips from it.

Even though you had consulted on a few technical aspects for the stunt choreography, you hadn’t been needed for the video initially. A frantic phone call from one of your producers changed that thought when they realized you had some of the safety gear they needed. Since this was vital equipment, the shoot had to be put on hold, so you quickly loaded it all up and high tailed it down there. You decided to stick around to help since they were a couple hours behind by the time you arrived.

Since you weren’t at the morning meeting when all the Jackass crew members were formally introduced to everyone on set, Eddie doesn’t recognize you and assumes you are just one of the few extras that recently arrived on set. But, regardless of who you are, he thinks you’re hot, and since performing always makes him horny, he decides you should be given the opportunity to help him relieve it.

But while Eddie doesn’t recognize you, you instantly recognize him as soon as he approaches you. You can hardly believe it when he immediately starts flirting with you. Though, calling it flirting is putting it mildly. Even though he’s being incredibly smooth about it, it’s obvious he has only one thing on his mind right now. You are perfectly okay with this, however. You weren’t about to turn down the opportunity to get railed by the lead singer of a band you really like, and so you return his advances. Once lunch is called, it doesn’t take long before the inevitable invitation slides from Eddie’s lips when you ask what his plans were.

“I usually go back to my trailer to eat,” he says, licking his lips at that last word as he lets his gaze slowly wander down your body again. “Care to keep me company?”

His voice dripped with honey, his tone making the warmth between your legs grow. You smiled, opened your mouth to accept his offer…

And then your friends struck.

It all happened extremely fast, and with all of Eddie’s attention on you, all he knew was, one minute, you were looking at him with the sort of bedroom eyes that had the blood flowing to his cock already, and then then next, your body lurched forward into his arms as you let out a bloodcurdling scream.

You immediately jumped away from the now stunned Eddie and whirled around. That’s when he saw a man running away from you both while laughing his ass off.

“Ryan, you motherfucker!” you roared before taking off after the man. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!”

Confused, Eddie watched you running away until some wild, boisterous cheering caught his attention. He looked over to see a small group watching the whole fiasco that consisted of the other members of Corroded Coffin and a few of the guys from Jackass. They had a video camera out and were all roaring with laughter as they recorded you chasing the guy named Ryan around the video set.

“Sorry Eddie!” called Gareth through his laughter.

This drew everyone else’s attention to Eddie. The camera pivoted towards him as one of the guys, a man named Johnny, jogged over to him with a good natured, but cocky grin on his face.

“Yeah, sorry about cockblocking you back there, Eddie,” Johnny said, his voice sounding anything but sorry. “But, man, we owe you a big one for that, we’ve been trying to get them with the Taser Cam for MONTHS.”

The Taser Cam, as it turns out, was your idea initially and you oversaw the planning and execution. It was one of the most popular skits on the show and that’s because you were a sneaky little shit with it. Even though they all knew you could be packing a taser at any given moment, they all had a bad habit of letting their guard down around you.

Even though they’d been gunning for revenge for a while, all attempts to tase you in return had failed miserably. This wasn’t entirely a problem since you all had a healthy level of paranoia and distrust for each other by now, it was just highly annoying for them all. You always managed to work out when they were trying to set you up, even if it was at the last second.

So, when Gareth made an offhand comment to Jeff about Eddie trying to get his dick wet at work again, and drew Johnny’s attention, he saw how engrossed you were in the man, he couldn’t resist. This really was the perfect opportunity, your attention had been entirely on Eddie, and Johnny recognized this as their big chance.

Eddie was so dumbfounded by the whole thing, he wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or impressed.

In the end, he does get you stretched out on the couch of his trailer just like he wanted, only not in the way he expected. It was the closest place to lay you down at so the onsite EMTS could look at you. While you were perfectly fine from the tasing, you had tripped while running after Ryan and now you couldn’t put any weight on one of your feet.

“It doesn’t look like a break,” said one of the paramedics as she finished looking you over. “Probably just a bad sprain, but you should have some x-rays taken to be sure. Need us to take you?”

“Nah,” you said, shaking your head. “Tremaine will strangle me if I take an ambulance for a non-emergency again.”

Eddie blinked a few times in surprise while Johnny and Ryan laughed.

“Yeah, he’s already gonna explode when he hears about this,” Johnny said, taking off his sunglasses to wipe tears from his eyes. “You just got released yesterday.”

“Right?” you sighed as the paramedics let themselves out. “Wonder how much longer this is going to put me down for.”

The whole situation was so ridiculous that it had rendered Eddie speechless, thus he had been uncharacteristically quiet since your tasing. But the current conversation piqued his curiosity.

“Released?” he asked looking over at you.

“Yeah, by my doctor,” you said, nodding. “I’ve been off work for, what?” You looked over at Johnny. “Two months now?”

“Almost, yeah,” he said, nodding, then burst out laughing. “Man, Ehren’s gonna be pissed. This means you and Bam can’t do the boarding segment next week.”

You looked over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Why would Ehren be pissed?” you asked, confused. “He’s not in that one.”

“No, he’s not,” said Johnny, and then a grin spread across his face that gave Eddie goosebumps. “But I think you being off with another injury is a good reason for all of us to be a little more safety conscious, wouldn’t you all agree?”

You and Ryan burst out laughing.

“Safety First!” the two of you then cried out in unison and Johnny clapped.

As badly as Eddie hated to admit it, you now fascinated him. Granted, he thought you were batshit insane at this point, but that only piqued his interest more. He ended up being thankful for the interruption.

With as thankful as he was for that, it didn’t compare to how thankful he was later when he found out exactly how close he came to getting tazed instead of you. Since they had to be so sneaky and quick about the whole thing, Ryan almost missed. One inch to the left and it would’ve been Eddie who received the jolt of electricity.

A few weeks later when Uncle Wayne found out who his nephew was dating now, he started going back to church.

Unlike Eddie, he actually does watch the show.

[redfurrycat]

🤠💔💞🐓Getting Back Together (Part One) Fic Recs🐓💞💔🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Andthentheybow, Aphroditedany, Astronomical_light, Boobooblue, Cedricslove, Charlie_mou, Cloudburst, Cloudsandstarss, Dalearden, DancingDisaster, Davidbyrne, Drh0rrible, Earthangel_44, FabuMazX, Ginnydear, Greenstuff, Haridwar, Indybob, Iridescent, Kidfromspace, LaceyAmethyst, Local_troubled_writer, Lyonet, Megs_m, Miraculousmultifan, Multifandommonster, Notchka88, Percyjacksonfan3, Piper__b, Ravens_Words, Soisserieux, Takingovermidnight, Tearsricochets, Thewonderzebra, Welcome_to_the_Badlands, Writteninwaves, Zaskiaz.

> Getting Back Together (Part Two)

the beginning, and the middle (not the end) by cloudburst {T}

But hell, he wasn’t about to tell his fellow pilots the good news that Hangman had finally settled down – in a manner of speaking – and finally met the one. That last part not being an exaggeration had him turning mid-air, flown through the jetwash, unrecoverable spin. He couldn’t pull the fucking eject.

If I Go on With You (By My Side) by piper__b {T}

Did Hangman want to continue what they had together? If they even did continue, could it be like the early days? Of course, it couldn’t. They weren’t irresponsible adults anymore. They weren’t looking for someone to relieve stress with. Rooster was in love and he hoped Hangman was too. You can’t go back to “meaningless” hookups after you realize you love watching them smile and you spend every minute you can to make them laugh because it fills your chest with warmth. You can’t go back after you realize that simple touches like holding hands, or kisses pressed to the crown of their head, is the highlight of your day sometimes.

I won't let go 'til the end by cedricslove {E}

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Bradley asked in a gentle tone, hands softly rubbing his shoulders. “Nothing,” he said, unwillingly tensing at his own response, knowing it would give him away. Bradley sighed, “Why do you always do this? You shut me out.” Re-telling of Rooster and Hangman's relationship from Hangman's perspective

higher further faster, baby by lyonet {E}

The thing about Bradley Bradshaw – seriously, what kind of sadist gives their kid a name like that – is that he’s good, he’s really good, but he could be better and that just pisses Jake off. What can he say, he’s a judgy kind of guy, he gets it from his mother. Put that together with the dumb moustache, the sad puppy eyes, the way Bradley reacts to every single jab Jake tosses his way, and, well – was he expecting Jake to be capable of leaving him in peace? Probably not.

Men Like Us by DancingDisaster

Men Like Us {M}

Seresin men love with reckless abandon. It’s put every man before him in the ground. Jake refuses to be buried. He flies like he has nothing left to lose (he doesn’t), a one man army (he is), leaving everyone else in the dust (so they don’t leave him). Admiral Kazansky claps him on the shoulder, says he expects great things from him, and Jake’s smile is feral as the rest of his flight school cohort looks on in disbelief. Hangman, they all say, like Jake’s entire personality was a long con, and he ranks first in class. Rooster doesn’t look at all. (They've got history spanning the better part of a decade and they are absolutely, positively not over it.)

Bowerbirds And Other Mating Displays {T}

“Why does Seresin keep calling you Bowerbird, Bradshaw?” Mickey asks a few days later during their break between training hops. Natasha laughs so hard coffee almost comes out of her nose. Or— It starts, as many poor decisions do, with a trip to Target.

Golden by Welcome_to_the_Badlands {T}

The only thing running through Jake's head was what if. What if he hadn’t reached them in time? What if they had fallen in the ocean, only miles from where Jake had been waiting in his plane on standby? What if Rooster had died not knowing that Jake still loved him so much Jake could barely breathe?

this is why we can't have nice things (darling) by kidfromspace {T}

The events of Top Gun: Maverick except Hangman and Rooster are bitter exes. And then more.

You Broke My Will, But What a Thrill by soisserieux {_}

Bradley shrugs. “No one there knows about us yet. We didn’t really get together until after we graduated, and I don’t know about you, but I haven’t really mentioned to anyone that I’m dating the Jake Seresin.” “Are you trying to decide how to tell them?” Jake asks. Bradley settles back into his chair. “Actually, I was considering what would happen if we didn’t.” “If we didn’t tell them?” A mischievous grin appears on Bradley’s face, and holy shit, that’s another one of Jake’s favorite expressions. “I was thinking about challenging you to a competition.” Jake grins. “I’m listening.”

if someone was going to break me (I’d want it to be you) by tearsricochets {T}

There’s a kiss being placed on his neck, and he sighs when he realizes it was right on one of the multiple marks Bradley had littered him with that evening. “Should I leave?” he asks, while tightening his arms around his waist. (‘Should I leave?’ he asks. Like Jake would ever make him leave. No, that’s Jake’s job.) He doesn’t say that, instead answering: “Ask again in five.” Because he’s weak, and he’s always got to have an escape route planned, a way out of the hole he’s dug for himself once again.

the moon may be high by multifandommonster {T}

The chance to try again, Jake thinks. For all of them— for Bradley and Jake, for him and Natasha, the chance to do it better in the wake of almost losing each other without ever clearing the air. The chance to be better, to want to be better— for Jake to never leave them behind, and for them to stick with him through the mud. His eyes find Bradley’s again and he’s shocked to see the sheen of tears, the strain it must take to hold eye contact despite the vulnerability. He left you, his brain supplies. But he might never do it again.

One More Miracle by FabuMazX {G}

Bradley sees the exact moment that he reads his mind and his smile falls. Jake’s brow furrows slightly and Bradley sees him swallow. It’s not until Payback brushes past his shoulder that Jake blinks, breaking the line between them; then he’s gone, pushing through the crowd towards the door while the others stare and call after him in a confused cluster. So maybe he needs one more miracle. - It takes a suicide mission for Bradley to realise he's not ready to give up on them. Now he just has to convince Jake. That's miracle number one.

Take My Hand and Hold On Forever by Earthangel_44 {E}

It happens again like clockwork. Every new achievement or award that Jake gets pinned to his chest. Every time he went to Afghanistan or flew with the F-151, Jake calls Bradley. Every COMM he receives or shiny new ribbon that is placed on his chest, Jake called Bradley. Or: Jake gets a lot of awards and Bradley rewards him for his good flying.

I Hate The Way I Sleep Better With You by FabuMazX {T}

5 Times Rooster and Hangman help each other through nightmares +1 time they help somebody else.

epic skill displays and their aftercare by boobooblue {T}

So, the plan. The plan consisted of impressing Rooster with his Upgraded Epic Pool Skills™️.

watching, waiting, still anticipating love by iridescent {T}

Bradley’s fingers caress the keys deftly, coaxing a bittersweet melody from the depths of the piano’s body. Then he starts singing, a few lines here and there almost like an afterthought. His voice is low and husky, lends itself naturally to this sort of soppy and overly sentimental love song. He doesn’t seem to notice Jake being there at all. Despite himself, Jake is transfixed. (Or, three distinct episodes in their lives where Bradley plays the piano and Jake listens.)

no need to pray, no need to speak by dalearden {T}

Taking the very last moment he has, Bradley closes in again on Jake but this time it’s so he can rest his forehead against the man who has been his lover and his rival all at once, his heart doing jumping jacks in his chest as he tries to have one more chance to just breathe. Jake matches him, beat for beat, and Bradley has to close his eyes against the tidal wave of overwhelming sorrow that makes him feel, pressing a hand to Jake’s chest as he murmurs a promise he knows he can’t keep but which he feels he has to make all the same because what if, what if…

still got that old time feeling by haridwar {E}

This was where Bradley’s head had been stuck for the entirety of his trip home. Flying in to San Diego from overseas had given him ample opportunity to overthink. Not about his impromptu homecoming though, or the fact that he would be stopping by his childhood home for the first time in well over a decade, or what it would be like to retrace his steps through Top Gun again like the first time around wasn’t difficult enough. No. His mind was stuck inexplicably upon Jake goddamn Seresin, and his goddamn stupid handsome face, and the fact that he still had way too many feelings for a guy who had walked out on him without so much as a backward glance. Or: yet another retelling of TG:M which covers some of the hangster subtext Tom Cruise neglected to include in his movie

maybe the miles can make up for the things you lack (are you ready to start?) by davidbyrne {M}

“Are you sure you want to do that? With me?” There are a million things Rooster could say in response. He could tell him about how the idea of getting a plane, even a commercial one, still makes his blood buzz in the most uncomfortable way, even after all these months. He could tell him about how, when his mom died, she told him to see the world and he hasn’t even been able to see America, except through Navy-mandated stations. He could retract his offer right now, say he’s actually not sure and doesn’t want to spend three months of his life with his ex. He could tell Jake he loves him, still loves him, and beg him to love him back just the same. He says none of that. Instead, he says, “I’d go anywhere with you, Jake. You know that.” Or three months, 48 states, two men, and their emotional baggage

Slow Ride by Earthangel_44 {E}

“Name it, baby.” Bradley’s voice isn’t even recognizable with how low it’s dropped and Jake’s eyes dilate. The flush slowly moves below the collar of his shirt and Bradley’s eyes follow it. “We go by my rules.” Jake says back. His voice lost the authoritative bite and Bradley smirks. “Which are?” Jake swallows thickly and his gaze drags down Bradley’s body. “You have to beg to fuck me.”

Training Montage by drh0rrible {E}

No matter where in the world you found yourself stationed, Navy bars were all the same. It was a comfort really, a nice bit of stability in a life defined by chaos. It starts in a Navy bar, and then another one, and another one. A one night stand, to half a relationship, to exes, to maybe something again. Another history of Rooster and Hangman.

why’d you wait so long (to tell me you need me) by thewonderzebra {E}

“Can you promise me something?” Jake calls into the darkness. Bradley tries to keep his muscles from tensing up at the thought of the broken promises he’s weathered in his lifetime. He slips his hands under the shirt Jake is wearing, palms and fingertips on warm, soft skin acting as a grounding mechanism. “That’s dangerous,” he warns. He knows he would do anything, say anything if it means never losing Jake again. But in their profession, promises are never a guarantee of permanence. Still, Jake seems aware of the danger and is determined to forge ahead, fearless as ever. “Promise me that we’re forever.” OR A retelling of TG:M explaining the background of Jake and Bradley’s relationship, and how it comes to evolve.

wish I knew how to hold you by Ravens_Words {T}

Bradley bullies Jake's flight information out of Javy, and it's much easier than he thought it would be. Probably because he doesn't want his best friend to be alone. "Bradshaw," Javy says before he hangs up, "you- I know he doesn't make it easy, but take care of him, will you?" He hesitates, takes a deep breath, "sure." For the first time, he wonders if he made a mistake, bit off more than he can chew. Jake goes back home, Bradley goes with him. It goes about as well as one can expect.

flames look beautiful (if you forget what they can do) by Ravens_Words {T}

Bradley Bradshaw returns to consciousness with a gasp, hand going to his side, where a searing pain makes itself known. "-ster, hey," Jake snaps, holds his face in both hands and forces him to look his way, "breathe." Bradley does as he's told, as painful as it is, and his vision clears somewhat. Jake's crouched beside him, concern etched on his face, and what happened comes back to him in flashes. The mission going sideways at every possible turn, seeing Jake's plane get shot down in the sky, the less than smooth emergency landing in the woods that followed.

we are tonight, we are forever by thewonderzebra {E}

Jake Seresin is the master of acting aloof, but when it comes down to it, Bradley can read him like an open book, seeing through every wall Jake puts up, through to his vulnerable soul. And right now, the book that is Hangman is all but screaming ‘come and get me’. OR An interlude in the Hard Deck, set during TG:M.

you can't be gone by writteninwaves {G}

It was like they were on a tightrope, carefully tugging on each ends and hoping they won’t fall. No parachutes, no safety nets. Two single pilots. Only thing they had was each other. Together, an unstoppable force. Bradley and Jake, their messes, fights and love, as told through Taylor Swift's 'Haunted'.

all of these games we play (I can't even keep 'em all straight) by tearsricochets {T}

He knows, theoretically, Jake wants some kind of reaction out of him. He’d seen it in the look he’d given Bradley right before accepting the man's invitation, but he also knows that he’s sick of the one having to make all the big emotional moves. He opens his mouth to tell Tasha as much, but stops when he sees a girl at the bar looking at him. She’s a curvy blonde, someone who looks like she was in a sorority in college. Her hair is perfectly curled, and her lips are a dark red color. She’s giving him a very long once-over, and when she meets his eyes again she smiles coyly. (Look, you don’t need to tell him it’s a bad plan, okay? He knows.) (Natasha does not care.) Because she knows the second she follows his eyeline what he’s going to do, and immediately opens her mouth to protest. “Do not do what I think you are about to Bradshaw.” He turns to look at her, the new gaze burning his skin. “Why not? He can play games but I can’t? Please, Tasha, give me a reason not to and I’ll leave it alone. Jesus, tell me what we are doing, at this point that would be just as great.” OR: the one in which they play many games, and then the one time they don’t.

we don’t know how to rhyme (but damn we try) by zaskiaz {T}

Bradley sighs and turns to greet his date, an automatic, if not bland smile plastered on his face. It’s when he makes eye contact with the person that his smile falters and falls as if it was never there to begin with. “You gotta be shitting me,” he breathes, disbelieving, at the same time Hangman hisses, “Oh, fuck no. or, the blind date but they are exes au

miles to go by Notchka88 {M}

Truth be told, Bradley hadn’t been expecting to be team leader. Given Maverick’s continued criticism of his flying and the shit Bradley had said to him—it had startled him to be Maverick’s choice. It had startled Hangman too, judging by the way his jaw had tightened and how he’d looked away, avoiding Bradley’s eyes during the briefing. Bradley should have been ready for Hangman’s reaction after everything that had happened between them, but it had still stung. (AU Canon Divergence where Rooster is Dagger One, Hangman is Dagger Two, and the mission goes as badly as in the movie. When Rooster is shot down, it's Hangman who follows after him.)

gonna let it burn, burn, burn by dalearden {M}

"Bradley still doesn’t really know how it had gone so spectacularly wrong between them but he thinks he might be getting an idea, experiencing now what love seems to mean for Jake Seresin, that it’s basically on the same level as deity worship and it’s all so much, so intense, nearly too much to bear to be on the receiving end of. He can’t begin to what it must be like to feel it if receiving it is like this."

slipped from my fingertips by astronomical_light {M}

“So tell me, Rooster,” Jake says from beside him. Bradley turns and takes him in, the way he’s leaning on his elbow on the bar, chest open towards Bradley as he mindlessly swivels his lower body on the barstool. “Why haven’t you settled yourself down yet?”

Always by greenstuff {E}

Jake meets Bradley for the first time when they're eighteen. This is the story about how they fall in love, break up, and then spend years finding their way back to each other. A modern Persuasion, if you squint a bit.

got to get your lovin' (one more time) by Percyjacksonfan3 {E}

When the first opening for an assignment comes his way he grasps it with both hands. It’s long, it’s far away, and it’s a distraction. It’s that mission that he gets his first and so far only kill, marking him as the only Navy pilot in active duty to have one. A couple of the TOPGUN graduates text him congratulations when they hear. A couple of them don’t. Jake grits his teeth and moves on. It's the backstory breakup fic that I couldn't not write after watching this movie, along with these two figuring themselves out after the events of Maverick to realize they actually did belong together all along. Also Phoenix and Coyote are the best friends two disasters like Rooster and Hangman could ask for, and I love them.

I bet you think about me by miraculousmultifan {T}

Hangman could admit to himself that, although he understood the gesture for what it was, he really didn’t want to attend Bradshaw’s stupid fucking wedding. And he was actually lying about that whole “understanding the gesture” thing. He didn’t understand. It felt more like a “Fuck you!” from Rooster to invite him to the wedding like he didn’t know damn well that Hangman would just be imagining himself beside him. And of course, he didn’t have a plus one because all their other friends were taking their own dates. *** Rooster is getting married, and against his better judgment, Hangman attends the rehearsal dinner with the rest of the Daggers. It goes about how he expected, if maybe a little better?

Left Hanging by takingovermidnight {T}

When Jake Seresin adopts the attitude that later earns him his "Hangman" call sign, Bradley Bradshaw cannot help but feel somewhat responsible.

this love came back to me by miraculousmultifan {M}

"this love is good, this love is bad, this love is alive back from the dead" *** During the mission, Jake and Bradley reminisce on what they had and what they could have had. Until they end up having it after all.

another perfect night to spend wide awake by andthentheybow {T}

After the mission, the team arrives back on land for a week-long leave while the brass decides what to do with them. Two days after they’ve landed, no one has seen Rooster other than Maverick, who’s scarce himself. Hangman and Phoenix decide to do something about it.

'cause you never gave a warning sign by LaceyAmethyst {M}

“Hangman, it’s on fire,” he screamed. “Don’t—” But it was too late. “Throttling up.” “NO!” Bradley screamed, seeing Jake’s right engine blow. His plane started falling, and Bradley couldn’t keep the words in anymore. “JAKE! NO! JAKE!" -- Bradley and Jake broke up in Lemoore, and a year later they’re assigned to the Dagger Squad mission. Bradley thinks he’s got his heart under control, thinks he can handle Jake looking at him like he’s a stranger, like they didn’t mean the world to each-other once. But then a bird strike hits Jake’s plane, and Bradley proceeds to Lose His Fucking Shit.

a dead love's buried beneath the dirt by Ravens_Words {T}

Jake is looking up at the ceiling, trying to find shapes in the mold that litters the walls, when two men walk in. They're wearing masks, and walk towards him with purpose. One of them steps around the chair Jake's in, and the other takes out his phone. He's strapped to the chair with some sort of belt around his chest, his arms are bound to the chair's, and so are his legs, so he can't really move to see what the guy behind him is doing, and against his will, his heart rate skyrockets. A hand darts out from behind, wraps around his neck so tightly he sees stars, and the tip of a knife breaks the skin as it's pressed into his throat. "Admiral Seresin," the man behind the camera says, and Jake's heart sinks right down to his toes, "you have exactly 48 hours to give us back our money, and our shipment, or your son dies."

I never stopped loving you by cloudsandstarss {T}

Jake's been enjoying his vacation, when he gets a call from Bradley.

slow down (you're doing fine) by charlie_mou {M}

"But have you ever thought about what happened after?" Suddenly, Jake felt like the tone alarm was going off and he was stuck in the cockpit with the hydraulics out. "After?" "His dad died before he even turned three. His mom died a week after he turned nine. Have you thought about what happened after?" Or, Seven years after their break up, Jake and Bradley are finally about to admit why it happened. But instead of resolving whatever there is between them, Bradley starts giving Jake heart attacks while in the sky - and Jake has a feeling it's all about more than flying. Going to Maverick for advice might just clear things up for him. (or, I heard 'slow ride' and 'waiting for the right moment' and made it into a backstory for all of Rooster's issues)

As We Go by megs_m {T}

Rebuilding is so much harder than tearing down. He's sure there is something profound about that-but he's too exhausted to care. There’s a maelstrom of conflicting emotions running through him. Elation, guilt, fear, hope, terror, and longing. He feels like he’s seconds from being ripped apart - the different forces are too much for his broken self - he’s already held together with duct tape and hope - he can’t possibly withstand this too.

With His Head Held High by dalearden {T}

Jake was born and raised in Texas and he knows a thing or two about guns. When Hard Deck is raided by a band of thugs and all inside taken hostage, Jake gets his hands on a rifle that Penny keeps under the counter and shows them exactly why they shouldn’t mess up with his Team. And Rooster may or may not get hard by seeing how precise Jake’s aim is.

When The Sky Falls by Welcome_to_the_Badlands {G}

“No one has called me that in a year and a half, and the one time someone did, he almost got a broken nose,” Bradley says, his face still buried in Jake’s chest. Jake sucks in a sharp breath but doesn't say anything. “No one has touched me in about that long either,” Bradley adds after a few seconds.

images of broken light by dalearden {E}

The tears fall freely this time before he can stop them and when Bradley brushes the wetness away for him with the callused pads of his fingers, Jake can feel something in him break. “Come back,” he whispers, a secret plea for Bradley’s ears only. “Whatever happens out there just…please come back.” Bradley’s eyes pool with sorrow, like he already knows what’s going to happen and can’t stop it even if he wanted to but he kisses Jake and breathes a promise they both know can’t be kept into him anyway.

touch you like I do by ginnydear {E}

But now, I have finally seen the end. by Aphroditedany {G}

Sometimes, it's simply love.

if honesty means telling you the truth (I’m still in love with you) by local_troubled_writer {E}

Bradley “I got sent on a suicide mission” Bradshaw and Jake “and I took the ‘suicide’ part personally” Seresin. Aka, the one where they go on the impossible mission, somehow make it out alive and someone confessed some feelings.

riding on waves by writteninwaves {G}

“Maybe in a few years, we’ll be in the same place somehow. If you still want to try then, come find me there. In that somewhere…” Bradley loves the skies and the sea. He loves Jake too but it takes him a while to learn how to love being on the ground for himself, and stop running away. Soft introspective Bradley feels + drives + rain + actual crying that happens in the bronco

We're Better Together by indybob {T}

In the aftermath of the mission, Jake stays the night at Bradley’s to make sure he settles in with the minor injuries he sustained. A nightmare, a late-night conversation, lots of tears, and closure ensue. Or: The mission makes Jake and Bradley realize that they’re still in love and that life is too short to not try again.

from this day to the ending of the world by dalearden {_}

Jake flies the mission instead of Maverick and takes the hit meant for Bradley. The two pilots find themselves stranded in enemy territory battling against the willderness and, in Jake's case, a bullet wound from the guns of a fifth gen fighter. It's the worst possible time for Bradley to realize just how deep his feelings for Jake really run.

I’ve been loving you for quite some time by dalearden {E}

After surviving the impossible, Jake is back where he belongs...being worshipped in Bradley's bed. (A little porny follow-up to my previous story from this day to the ending of the world.)

[cutiecorner]

Boats

Ficlet • Regressor! Bruce, caregiver! Alfred

@todayimfour said: "This is probably more of a doodle promt than writing but I feel like Bruce would have a blast with those lil bath toys that are the stacking boats"

In LOVE with this prompt!!! It can be a doodle AND a fic :3c enjoy!

“Bruce, poppet, don’t you think it’s time for a bath?”

Bruce stewed in his chair in front of the bat-computer. There was no doubt about it, he was kind of filthy. After a long mission in Gotham’s sewers to look for Killer Croc’s latest hide out, he went directly for the computer to catalog his findings. Not the best plan, but the one he decided to pursue in the moment. That moment was four hours ago, and he still hadn’t showered. Alfred had exhausted all of his avenues to get Bruce up and clean, but none had pulled him away from the computer. Except his last resort. Bruce was well aware that Alfred doesn’t call him pet names for just any reason. ‘Master Bruce’ was enough affection for the both of them, direct sweetness was a little much for daily happenings. Things had gotten particularly serious, Bruce thought, for Alfred to “poppet” him. He considered the possibility of going along with it, but he simply had too much work to do. He grunted to communicate as much. Alfred frowned, but was quickly hit with an idea. 

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to save my special surprise for another night then.”

Bruce was being baited, he could tell, but… a surprise was kind of like a mystery. Bruce loved mysteries. He just couldn’t resist. 

“... what kind of surprise?”

Alfred smiled, “I guess you’ll have to come with me to find out.”

Bruce let out a long sigh, hating to be pulled from his work, but he had to admit - he kind of wanted to get clean.  Not to mention, a pleasant surprise never hurt anyone. Once he was up from the chair, he pulled down his cowl to release his messy hair. Alfred reached for his hand, taking it to Bruce’s shock. This was serious business. 

Alfred led Bruce to the bathroom, and Bruce quickly took off his dirty suit to deposit in the laundry basket. He was starting to realize that he really did feel icky. Icky? He thought, surprised at his internal choice of words. Was he…

“I’ll start the water, dear, you go potty”

Bruce pouted. He did not go potty, he was far too big for potty. He ruminated on his big-ness as he did what Alfred told him anyway. After all, he would never outgrow taking orders from Alfred. Alfie knew everything.

“All done?” Alfred asked.

Bruce nodded in response, taking a seat in the bathtub. Alfred ran the showerhead over him to get the worst of the grime off, then started to fill the tub. Bruce always felt awkward waiting for the water to fill up, but was soon distracted by the bubbles forming. Alfie put some bubble bath in, it smelled nice too. He took a deep breath, taking in the lavender scent. He felt relaxed, fuzzy…

“I suppose it’s time for your surprise, hm?”

A bath surprise? Strange… Bruce wondered. What could be a surprise for the bath?

Before he could ponder, Bruce was presented with a pack of brightly colored boat toys.

“A bath toy? Don’t you think I’m a little old?” Bruce whined. 

“Oh, never.”

Alfred set a few of the boats in the now-full tub.

“Look, they can float, and you can fill them up with water, they even stack,” Alfred grinned.

Hrn, Bruce responded, not wanting to give in to a baby toy. He scrubbed at his hair as he tried to ignore the floaties… but they were so pretty. He bet they could go pretty fast if he pushed them. He thought about the splashy water and the ripples… No! He thought, Don’t get distracted. One of the boats floated over to him. He flicked it away. It did go pretty far! He found himself smiling. He grabbed another boat, skipping it across the water. Now he was laughing. Soon, he was playing. He filled the boats up with water till they sank, he raced them, he sorted them. 

“Alfie, look how many boats! They’re all stacked up and they still go!”

“Oh wow,” Alfred chuckled.

Bruce continued to play as Alfred finished washing him.

“Alright, pumpkin, you’re all done.”

“No!” Bruce cried, “my boats…”

Alfred smiled.

“I promise you can play with your boats tomorrow, love.”

“You promise?”

“I swear,” Alfred smiled. 

[five-rivers]

Checkerboard

Will add an AO3 link once the ddos attack is over. In the meantime, please enjoy this Gen Rex fic! It's whump. :)

Edit: AO3 Link!

.

One moment, Rex was breaking free of the control collar, as planned.  The next– 

Caesar hadn't realized that witch could move that fast.  

The fight was, in a word, brutal.  Rex was good, very good, even Caesar could see that, but against both an equal opponent and the relentless black pawns, even he had limits.  Especially when he was avoiding lethal blows.  It appeared he hadn't, quite, realized that the black pawns were robots.  

That was an oversight on Caesar's part, he'd admit.  He knew that Rex had the ability to detect nearby nanites, but he didn't know if that ability was behind the consciousness partition his parents had set up in the onboard AI, and even if it wasn't, well, having the ability to perceive something and understanding the information it gave you were two very different things.  Especially under stress.  

Black Knight crushed Rex's latest set of smack hands with a nanite-generated hammer, then tipped him over, wrapping him with her whip.  He hit the floor hard, but it was obvious he was going to break free momentarily, and possibly even counter with his own whip build, but Black Knight's hammer shifted into a sword, and she brought it down through Rex's shoulder.

"Stop!  Stop!  What are you doing?" demanded Caesar.  

The black pawns moved in, aiming at Rex from point blank range.

"Kill or control," said Black Knight.  "That's Providence's current protocol.  If we get your brother back under control, we can put ‘cure’ back on the table, but until then… What will it be?"  The ultimatum, because that's what it was, was delivered in the same falsely pleasant tone Black Knight gave all her orders in.  

Caesar clenched his jaw.  Some people might think he was cold and disconnected, that he lacked empathy, feelings, care for anything that wasn’t one of his experiments.  Dr. Holiday, for example, had, shortly after Rex’s disappearance, accused Caesar of being a psychopath.

Well.  Caesar knew there was something not quite right about him.  Never had felt like getting a diagnosis.  But he hadn’t cried over his parents’ deaths, and he hadn’t cried over Rex’s disappearance.  He certainly hadn’t gotten as emotional as Holiday, or even Six. 

But he did love his brother.  He knew that love was just the result of neural connections in the brain, coupled with certain chemical reactions, but that didn’t make it less real.  He wanted his brother to be healthy and happy.  That was love, yes?  

But for Rex to be healthy and happy, he also had to be alive.  

He met Rex’s eyes.  Rex, unlike Caesar, was emotional.  Caesar could easily read the pain, fury, and fear on Rex’s face.  Fear that quickly slid into terror as Rex realized what Caesar was going to do.

“Dr. Salazar, your decision.  You can stop stalling.  We neutralized the robot monkey, and even all the Numbers working together couldn’t break into this facility fast enough to keep me and my pawns from terminating this EVO.”

“He-ahhhh!”  Rex’s protest was cut off with a sideways jerk of Black Knights blade, ending with a high-pitched whine.  There was no blood - Rex, as a rule, didn’t bleed.  His nanites had instructions about that.  But even so…

“Alright, alright!” said Caesar.  “I’ll do it!  I’ll just.  This isn’t something I can do immediately.  I told you Rex’s nanites were different.”  He had.  Multiple times.  Some of those times were even after his six-years-in-fifteen-minutes trip.  

“I’d think it’d be a simple matter, considering you worked on him before.  And your control of the Omega-1 during your… reappearance.”

“I’d think,” said Caesar, retrieving a set of new control collars and checking their serial numbers, “you’d appreciate the difficulty, considering anything that could easily be done to Rex could easily be done to you.”  

Black Knight’s smile grew sharper, showing teeth.  “Careful.  Dr. Salazar.”

Caesar made sure his tablet computer was synchronized with the main control computer and walked towards Rex.  The pawns who weren’t aiming at him were now aiming at Caesar.  He held up the collars and his tablet.  “I’ve got to start somewhere, right?”

“Let him by,” said Black Knight in an almost magnanimous tone.  She had a lot of practice with that one.  

“Okay, mijo,” said Caesar, with false cheer, “let’s get started.”

“Don’t do thi–”

His protest was cut off as Black Knight changed the angle of her sword, enlarging the wound.  Rex gasp, breath hitching, and Caesar decided the best way to handle this was fast, like ripping off a bandaid.  He wrapped the first collar around Rex’s neck.  

Predictably, because Rex could be predictable, sometimes, (it was, Caesar thought, probably a result of many of his subconscious thought processes and actions being directed by nanite programs) the skin on his neck lit up with blue lines that crossed over onto the collar and took it apart.  

“Don’t–” said Caesar, quickly.  “Don’t.  There’s a reason I brought more than one, yes?”

“You have fifteen minutes.  My arm is getting tired.”

“Please, Rex, just… Let it happen.”

Rex bit his lower lip and glared up at him.  Caesar swallowed and checked his tablet, looked at what, exactly, Rex had done to the collar, and made a few adjustments.  He had to - he had to get this right.  

Despite the whip and despite the sword, Rex still tried to twitch away from the collar.  This time, Caesar could hear the activation tone of the nanites.  They’d intended to remove some of the audio cues after the nanites got out of the prototype phase, but since things had turned out the way they did, they’d never gotten around to it.  

He kept an eye on the tablet, watching the feedback and already making adjustments to the next collar.  When the second - or should he count it as the third? - one broke, it was ready to slide into place.  

And…  There!  He’d need some more changes.  Just a little more.  But this time… Yes!  He could stop Rex from breaking this one for long enough to get his foot in the door, at least.  And Rex was wearing out.  

He had limits.  And Caesar wasn’t exactly fighting fair.  

He snapped the next collar - hopefully the last one - into place.  The program, a construction command for the Omega-1, started running immediately, relaying its results to the tablet.  Caesar watched them anxiously, but he didn’t have much faith in that particular program as anything but a delaying tactic.  Rex’s self-programming capabilities had taken care of that particular backdoor within the first week of Caesar’s return.  

But the program he was loading up now was a bit different.  Simple, yes, there wasn’t time for anything complex, but hopefully effective, given Caesar’s special permissions and privileges in the nanite system.  

The second program worked like this: it sent a request for access to Rex’s code interface, tagged with Caesar’s administrator codes.  For various ethical and practical reasons (their parents didn’t quite trust Caesar not to use higher-level access for pranks) Caesar had never been given full, unimpeded access to Rex’s nanite programming.  But… the admin codes meant that he got a response.  A little popup that said nothing but ‘request denied.’  Rex also could accept the request, but, well…

Caesar looked at Rex, whose face was screwed up into an expression of pained but determined confusion.  That just didn’t seem likely.  Even if the request was handled entirely behind the consciousness partition.  

The program didn’t just send one request, though.  It sent repeated requests.  As many as it could, on a code loop only a few lines long.  

The whirr of the nanites became more stressed as they worked on endless access requests.  The nanites were tiny, brilliant computers, but they were, in the end, still computers.  Computers (and everything, really), as a rule, generated heat when they were working.  They’d managed to break physics in so many ways working on the nanite project, but not that one.  

Rex began to sweat and pant as his body tried to regulate its internal temperature.  Every inhale hitched and every exhale was accompanied by a pained whine.  As a rule, Caesar didn’t experience empathy, didn’t feel with other people.  Probably a mirror neuron problem.  But this?  This hurt.  

He didn't want to do this.  

His tablet beeped.  

Their parents hadn’t trusted Caesar not to play pranks on his little brother, but they did trust him to look after Rex’s wellbeing in an emergency.  An emergency like a significantly elevated body temperature and a huge hole in his body.  

The popup now read, ‘access granted.’

The first thing Caesar did was make a new back door.  He was confident that this one, the one he used to get in just now, would be patched within a week.  Probably some limit on access-requests-per-minute, even for admins.  

Rex’s code was a mess.  Six years of unregulated self-modification would do that.  Few of the new programs were instantly understandable, even to Caesar.  Builds, wifi hacking tools, a series of ‘handshakes’ for various systems, dormant EVO-originating code, probably copied from people and animals he’d cured, active EVO code, from the same, a rather ingenious fix for a problem they’d never solved, back in the nanite project days.  But buried underneath all that was the original code for Rex’s nanites.  Even the Omega-1.  

He brought up the set of programs they’d written after the first time Rex had forgotten everything.  It was just a little something to help him recognize them, trust them, in case it happened again.  It was why it had been so easy to convince Rex to come with him, when they had met again.  

But family wasn’t the only thing on the list anymore.  Dr. Holiday, Six, Noah, and even Bobo were there, primarily identified through their nanite loci, rather than the facial, vocal, and code recognition that identified the Salazars.  Although, now that he looked, he could see that Rex had appended Caesar’s nanite locus to his ID data.  

He went to the part of the code that dictated how much and how the nanites could influence Rex’s thoughts about a given person, and changed a few variables and permissions.  He went back to the main list, added in Black Knight, and generated variables for her, too.  

There.  Rex was controlled.  Not, perhaps, the same way all the other EVOs were, but with the values Caesar had just assigned, saying ‘no’ to him or Black Knight would be given roughly the same avoidance priority as self harm, and just being around them should feel vaguely pleasant.  

Rex made a tiny noise of protest, but judging by how glazed over his eyes were, and how clammy his skin looked, Caesar doubted he was really aware of what Caesar had just done.  He would be, though.  

Caesar went back to the main list one more time, and told Rex’s nanites that Rafael and Violeta Salazar were dead.  The effect of this was immediate and far more dramatic.  Rex started sobbing.  

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  He really was.  But this was the fastest way to get to the other thing he wanted.  The consciousness partition.  Without their parents, Caesar was now recognized as having the highest level of admin access.  

He… hesitated before he deleted it.  There were a vast number of reasons it existed.  The primary one being to keep ten-year-old Rex from accidentally deleting his liver, but also because the nanite project’s… well, Caesar’s… track record with AIs was not good, and even if this was more of an integrated intelligence, than an artificial one…

But Rex needed this.  For that matter, if Caesar’s original plan had worked, and Rex had escaped, and he got Providence to restart the project, and, and, and…  Eventually, the partition would have been removed anyway, was the point.  

He hit the button and moved on.  Medical options.  He brought up a list of prearranged medically-related voice commands - it was short, for emergency use only, in case Rex lost control of his nanites while he was ill.  He interdicted Rex’s builds, put them behind a voice authorization from a ‘person of trust’ and he desperately hoped Rex would figure out that particular loophole.  He told the nanites to take over Rex’s breathing reflex for the moment, because the way he was currently breathing had to be cutting him up on Black Knight’s sword.  He–

“That’s been fifteen minutes, Dr. Salazar.”

“Rex,” said Caesar, clearly, “go to sleep.”

Rex’s eyes fluttered closed.  

“There you go!” said Caesar, a horrible approximation of a smile on his face.  “All under control!”

"Dr. Donevsky," said Black Knight. 

Caesar flinched as the doctor approached from the side of the room.  He hadn't noticed anyone else come in.  

“It won’t be the same as with the other EVOs, his base programming is too different,” said Caesar, now anxious as Donevsky checked Rex’s pulse and reflexes.  “You won’t be able to– To puppet him around.  There are only a few voice commands he has to follow, but–”

Black Knight raised an eyebrow.  “That doesn’t sound like under control.”

“I’ve made him trust us,” said Caesar.  “Even more than he trusts Holiday or Six.  I’ve made it– You are familiar with Pavlov’s experiments with dogs, aren’t you?”  It wasn’t quite what was going on, but, honestly, he didn’t want to explain it to Black Knight.  

“He’s really asleep, ma’am,” said Donevsky, stepping back.  

“Hm,” said Black Knight.  She withdrew her builds.  “How long does this last for?”

“Eight hours,” said Caesar.  “That’s the recommended amount, after all!”

“Interesting.  We’ll give this a trial run.”

Other medical staff, who had been standing at the periphery of the room, came forward.  They heaved Rex up onto a gurney and started taking more measurements and readings.  Rex stayed entirely limp throughout, like a rag doll.  The doctors conferred over their results for a moment, then started to wheel him out of the room.  Caesar began to follow.  

Black Knight’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.  

“I think we have some things to discuss, before you join your brother,” she said.  

.

It wasn’t as if Rex had never been stabbed before.  He had.  Mostly by Van Kleiss and his stupid, stabby, sucky fingers.  It sucked, but he could deal with it.  Maybe with some complaining and a bit of encouragement from Dr. Holiday or Six, or some well-timed snark from Bobo, but he could deal with it.  

On the other hand, the stuff that stabbed him usually wasn’t this big and usually didn’t stay stabbed in him for this long.  Benefit of having the most awesome nanites on the planet was that he could safely ignore the whole ‘don’t remove the thing stabbing you or else you might bleed out’ thing…  Which he totally hadn’t discovered by ignoring Holiday when she said ‘don’t remove the thing stabbing you or else you might bleed out.’  Good times.  

What wasn’t a good time?  The fact that the literal backstabbing he was dealing with had come after a metaphorical backstabbing.  

(He was pretty sure that when people said siblings were a pain, they didn’t mean like this.)

The whole ‘tied up with a dozen guns pointed at him’ thing was bad, also.  But it was kind of…  Expectedly bad?  Like, it wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary for his life, except for the when and where of it.  But Caesar trying to mind control him?  That was just…   

Well.  It sucked.  What else was he supposed to say?  He didn’t know what to say, which was, maybe, why he wasn’t saying anything while Black Knight was giving Caesar some kind of psycho speech about why he needed to be controlled.  

He didn’t know why she was bothering with that, honestly.  Caesar had already decided to control him.  With that stupidly easy to break collar… that Caesar had to know wouldn’t work on him.

Ughhhhh sometimes he hated being the kind of person who gave others the benefit of the doubt.  

He looked up and glared at Caesar, hard enough to hide any trace of hope.  Not that he really kept a lot of hope as Caesar’s expression went from ‘blank’ to ‘resigned.’  

A bunch of words that Dr. Holiday thought he didn’t know went through his brain so fast they sounded like static.  Caesar was a weirdo and a space case most of the time, but he also knew Rex, and his nanites, better than anyone else.  Caesar had gotten him to build that freaky containment machine on remote control, sans collar.  Caesar could screw him over so freaking much.  

“Dr. Salazar, your decision.  You can stop stalling.  We neutralized the robot monkey, and even all the Numbers working together couldn’t break into this facility fast enough to keep me and my pawns from terminating this EVO.”

Robot monkey?  Did that mean Bobo wasn’t under control?  And he hated it when people talked over him like he was some kind of object.  “He-ahhhh!” 

Black Knight must have moved her sword by, like, a foot, because Rex’s entire arm and back lit up like they were on fire.  In the back of his mind there was something with the general shape and texture of the few times his nanites had talked to him directly.  Not that any information got through to Rex.  It was probably just them trying to tell him how stabbed he was, so no biggie.  He could figure that out on his own.  He had this whole biological system called pain and more pain, oh, and get this, yet more pain, to help him figure it out!  Wasn’t that wonderful?

“Alright, alright!” said Caesar.  “I’ll do it!  I’ll just.  This isn’t something I can do immediately.  I told you Rex’s nanites were different.”

Yeah, no kidding.  He was sure Providence’s new evil overlord knew nothing about that at all.  It wasn’t like Providence hadn’t been studying them since Rex first got here.  

Caesar strode across the room and out of Rex’s immediate line of sight.  His attempt to shift his position resulted in a heel being dug into his spine, the whip tightening to the point of crushing the air out of his lungs, and the sword being twisted so viciously his vision whited out for a second.  

“....could easily be done to Rex could easily be done to you.”  

Okay, maybe more than a second.

“Careful.  Dr. Salazar.”

Rex blinked hard, still trying to follow what was going on around him.  It could be done to Black Knight, too?  All of this?  The mind control thing?  Something else?

“I’ve got to start somewhere, right?”

“Let him by,” said Black Knight in an almost magnanimous tone.  The agents between Caesar and Rex parted.  

“Okay, mijo,” said Caesar, with obvious false cheer, “let’s get started.”

Rex tried to catch Caesar’s eyes.  If Caesar didn't want to do this, maybe Rex could convince him not to.  Sure, he wasn’t at the point of things where he’d rather die than be mind controlled - he wasn’t that noble, and he remembered the follow-up interviews from the Meechum incident - but seriously injured?  Imprisoned?  Those both sounded way better.  

“Don’t do thi–”

Black Knight wrenched her sword to one side, and Rex’s argument was lost to agony.  For a split second, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and when he could the collar was there.  He sent his nanites against it, first disabling the code that let it send messages to his nanites, then telling it to disassemble stuff.  

Not for the first time, Rex wondered why people didn’t make things more mechanical and less electronic.  If there wasn’t an electronic disassembly command, it would be way harder for him to do stuff like this.  

He wasn’t going to ask anyone that, though.  His life was hard enough as it was.  Case in point, his current situation (which was bad).

“Don’t–” said Caesar.  “Don’t.  There’s a reason I brought more than one, yes?”

What, was that some kind of threat?  Rex had heard better.  

“You have fifteen minutes.  My arm is getting tired.”

… or maybe he was talking to someone else.  Again.  

“Please, Rex, just… Let it happen.”

Like heck.  If Caesar and Black Knight were going to do this to him, he was going to make them work for it.  In the spirit of that - and not because he was scared - he tried to pull away when Caesar picked up the next collar and put it on.  Not that it did much good.  But it didn’t do Caesar any good, either, so there.  Ha.  

It had been harder, this time, though.  Not a lot harder, but enough to make him apprehensive.  

He really hoped Black Knight was wrong about that backup.  He didn’t think he’d be able to get out of this on his own, and he was liking his chances of holding out against mind control long term less and less.  

He broke the next collar, too.  That one had been hard, and Rex was starting to feel tired.  More tired.  His nanites were starting to protest being diverted from the giant gaping hole in his shoulder.  

But Caesar already had the next collar around Rex’s neck.  Rex told his nanites to take it apart, too, but… they were… busy?  He pushed through, overriding whatever was occupying them, and the collar fell off.  

Caesar put the next one on.  

For a second, Rex zoned out like he had when Caesar had been sending the Omega-1 instructions.  When he came back to himself, he felt hot.  

Well, he always felt hot.  He was hot.  Blisteringly good looking, even.  But he was physically hot right now.  Fever-level hot.  Best he could compare it to was when his nanites had been working overtime trying to counteract the chupacabra poison.  Except there was no chupacabra poison this time.  Probably.  What was Caesar doing to him? 

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on getting his nanites back under control.  There was a feeling like someone knocking, knocking, knocking on the back of his mind until the sound turned to jackhammer black noise.  It hurt, and he was rapidly approaching the temperatures where it was hard for him to think.  His skin felt slick and sticky, and he started to pant, even as the motion made Black Knight’s sword saw back and forth inside him.  

And then the building pressure against him disappeared all at once.  He didn’t exactly relax, but he did go limp, unable to maintain the state of tension from before.  He was going to pass out, soon, he could tell.  He hated passing out.  

With difficulty, he opened his eyes to glare blearily at Caesar.  He was hunched over his tablet, tapping away at the screen.  Traitor.  Backstabber.  Jerk.  It wasn’t as if Rex hadn’t been backstabbed by, like, everyone, except for Holiday, Bobo (except for really minor things), and Six (there had been that time with the Numbers, and the other thing with the memory loss, but, really, that was fine, water under the bridge and all), but family was supposed to be different.  You were supposed to be able to trust family.  Family wasn’t supposed to try to mind control you for creepy middle-aged women, which is why Rex had to trust that Caesar was doing this for a very good reason.  

Rex blinked slowly.  There was something wrong with that train of thought.  The people you…  Caesar wouldn’t mind control him just because.  Caesar had betrayed him– But Caesar wouldn’t do that.  Had Rex misunderstood something?  Somewhere?  Was he not working for Black Knight?  Except, Black Knight was a good person.  He knew that.  He trusted her.  Good people didn’t just mind control people for no reason.  Or stab people for no reason.  So, there had to be a reason.  But it was so hard to think of one.  

… Had he hurt someone?

A weak whine built in the back of his throat.  He didn’t remember hurting… But maybe he did?  He was so angry about the control collars, but Black Knight and Caesar said they were good, so…?  His thoughts felt so sticky and slow.  What had he been thinking about before?  Caesar and Black Knight had… They had been…?

He was hit with a wave of grief absolutely unlike anything he had ever experienced before.  Grief, like something he’d always had, something he’d held so close he couldn’t even see it, being ripped away from him without warning.  A piece of his world, just gone, and he didn’t even know what it was, just that he wanted it back, please, please, please.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Rex was sorry, too.  He didn’t know what he had done, but he wanted this to stop.  

And then, something in the back of Rex’s mind opened up, and his thoughts stopped being anything like coherent.  He watched, more or less passively, as Caesar turned on emergency medical controls, put his builds on lock, and made the nanites actively regulate his breathing.  Which actually did help, a little.  Rex may have been hyperventilating.  

Black Knight and Caesar started talking, but Rex couldn’t follow anything they were saying at all.  It was okay for him to just… zone out a bit, right?  He could… obviously, they could take care of things…

“Rex,” said Caesar, dragging Rex’s attention back into the real world, if only for a moment, “go to sleep.”

.

To be continued. :)

[rainbowwinedemon]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Arsgsggsg I LOVE THIS (maybe bc i'm a little narcissistic)

First one gotta be lovelorn and nobody knows for the HP fandom (jeverus ship actually) is a sequel for too divine for human minds exploring what happens three years after they find out they're soulmates (in this au, soulmates can read each other minds). It had my favorite paragraph I've ever written:

That was probably his favorite summer to the date. Them exploring the woods and Severus getting sidetracked picking ingredients to experiment, going into town and taking walks while holding hands, spending the night outside with Severus sleeping on his lap while he enjoyed the warm summer breeze, swimming in the river to cool down from the heat, and then making love by the shore.

I pictured this as a film reel when I wrote it, and I was soo happy with the end result. Good. I love it so much.

Second goes to i slipped, then i could break the habbit (Joukai). That fic took over my head. I sat down and wrote whole first section in like two hours, then spent a whole day sitting in front of my laptop just so I could finish it. I actually had to cut it short. The last two sections where supposed to be full fledged sex scenes, but it was getting too long, it probably would've gotten up to 10~11k if I kept writing. I loved how it ended, so I guess I made the wrote decision. Here's one of my favorite parts:

He pulls away, Kaiba had his bottom lip against his teeth, his eyes blink open when he realizes Jounouchi stopped kissing him. He smiles a little, rocking him a bit on his lap. “Hi,” he says. “Hello,” Kaiba replies.

I'm not good at kiss scenes, but this was just sooo soft. I loved it.

Third gotta be Leash. Also a joukai, and a work in progress. I started writing fanfiction back in February, after being blocked for like three years, and pretty much of the first things I wrote where really soft (tho also really smutty) Leash is letting me write things that would've made uncomfortable three months ago, and I can also explore new ways to write smut. That always comes handy.

Here's a sneak peak from the second chapter

“Fuck you, Kaiba,” he spits instead, the fingers of his right hand flexing like he wants to grab him again. “Despite what fucked up idea you have in your mind, I’m not a dog. I don’t have a leash for you to pull on.”

Jounouchi turns on his back, walking down the stairs and very pointedly not looking back when Kaiba says, “Isono, please, walk Jounouchi to the exit. I don’t need him to get lost.” Jounouchi just goes straight for the door, countering with, “Don’t worry, I can find my way out.”

Fourth: something to give each other, for the HP fandom, obviously Jeverus. I think I started writing this right after getting my muses back, me and Beth (my first fandom friend, she's writing one of my favorite fics for this ship) started doing interchanges for this pairings. And this idea, like all the other, took over me. I put work into it, looking for each character aesthetic and writing headcanons to base the world on.

Here's my favorite part:

Jesus, he even hated the way he talked, slow, dragging the words to make his voice sound deeper. As if James hadn’t heard him last week, screaming like an honest to God four-year-old when Lily accidentally chipped his nails too close to the flesh. “I’m sorry, did we ask for your opinion?” this time, James did turn on his side to look at him, Snape was wearing a dark grey baggy turtleneck, along with pair of old dress trousers. He hated him a little more for making that fit look runaway material.

Fifth is actually a tie between double take and Have the cake. Eat the cake.

Double take is my latest published fic. It's a Joukai, and started because if line that I obsessed over from a fic (New Tricks by pockyhucks). I also wanted to try writing smut in a different way, and I wanted to get into the skin of someone in the Ace spectrum and figure out how you can be interested in someone's body without being interested in having sex with them.

Favorite part from this one is:

“I like touching you,” he cuts in before Jounouchi can finish his question. That statement makes him blush, but what he says next makes his blood pump in his ears. “I like the why your dick feels in my hand, and I also like knowing that you like me touching you.” He pauses, puts on that infuriating little smirk of his and tips his head. Jounouchi is red down his neck. “Is that enough for you, or do you want me to keep going?” Jounouchi gapes, his mouth opening and closing without a single word coming out. In the end he resolves to keep it shut, clearing his throat and turning to look through the window again, because if he looks at Kaiba, he’s probably going to combust in his seat. “That’s okay,” he eventually settles, speaking again his palm. “That’s quite enough.”

Anddddd finally Have the cake. Eat the cake.

This one is my baby, the first fic I'm writing with some resemblance of plot. It's a slow burn, and isn't even posted yet. But I love it soo much, I can't even explain it. Here's one of my favorite parts so far:

The Kaibas are the last ones to get to the course, Gozaburo wearing a white cap and Kaiba with black shades. He’s only one who’s dressed in shorts instead of trousers, and it makes him look painfully young against all the old man there. He doesn’t look like he cares, though, walking with his hands in his pockets replying to what Gozaburo was saying, taking the club that was meant for his father from Jounouchi’s hands.

He doesn’t test it, just gives Jounouchi a look that says ‘if I fail, it’s on you’, then walks to the closest hole and gets ready to swing.

It’s impolite, they’re the hosts, they’re supposed to let someone else play first, but Gozaburo just smirks when Kaiba makes the swing and scores, giving three slow claps that are echoed by the rest of the execs joining him. Kaiba just walks back to him, giving him the club and moving his hand in a come-hither gesture.

“Move along, mutt,” he says. Jounouchi clenches his fingers around the stick. “I want to finish this quickly.”

Jounouchi follows him around for the rest of the game.

Sorry, this kinda turned into a rant. But I'm so happy to be writing again that I'll take any change to speak about my works

[offside-the-lines]

tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 3. Pal-entine's Day

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Episode synopsis:Tito returns her kindness by being a shoulder Evie can lean on when she is having a hard time after all-star break. She tells him it’s anxiety about work. He brings her a box of pastries and they cuddle on the couch all day; he doesn’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Later, a hook-up goes very wrong.

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Warnings: This episode contains mentions of a past toxic relationship and sex that occurs off screen. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 4.8k // 44.5k

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Pal-entine’s Day

Evie — February 10

It’s late when Evie finishes work for the day. She rubs her eyes and finishes her cup of tea, which is now less than lukewarm. She sighs. This was kind of her own doing. She didn’t work as much as she should’ve in January, especially in the week that Tito stayed over, which means she’s feeling more behind than she would like them to be. Not to mention, this latest work she was editing was full of so many glaring issues that the document has more comments than text at this point.

She puts her phone down and rests her head on the table. 

She doesn’t regret it. Tito had been clearly so down in the dumps after his wrist injury. She had taken him to the different museums, touristy sights, and fun restaurants around town that she had been meaning to get to; she had thought that she would catch up on her work when he was in Florida with his brother’s family during Bye Week. 

She doesn’t regret it because their adventures brightened his mood every time, his glowing smile seared on the inside of her eyelids. She thinks about the time she had taken him to the Skating Ribbon in Maggie Daley Park on a particularly bad day. 

He had come back from the rink dejected after being told he couldn’t join no-contact practice yet. He had been cleared to skate, though. So, the joy on his face when he stepped onto the ice again, even if it was a park and not an NHL arena, made them both feel a hundred pounds lighter.

She doesn’t regret it. It’s just that— Unfortunately, her plan to catch up on work during Bye Week didn't happen. The day after Tito left for Florida, her apartment felt startlingly empty. 

It reminded her of when she had first moved to Chicago. She had just a couple of boxes and suitcases. She left behind all the remnants of her life with Pierre. Those plates, pillows, and knickknacks didn’t feel like they belonged in her life anymore. That’s why she moved, right? To get a clean start at age 28. 

It wasn’t just stuff she had left behind. It was her whole life, a life that had looked increasingly foreign in those final months anyway. All of their friends, all of their stuff, all of their memories. He could keep them. She just wanted out.

Those first months in Chicago had felt so lonely, living without anyone else for the first time ever. It was hard to make friends in a new city, so she spent a lot of time just in her apartment. The thought kept creeping into her head that she would probably be alone forever and regret leaving her seemingly perfect relationship behind in Toronto. 

She downloaded and deleted Bumble probably ten times in the first few months.

Eventually, she met Kelsey, Leanne, and the others at a work-sponsored holiday party. They were unhappy that she hadn’t reached out sooner. So, with them dragging her out of her house a few times a week to whatever restaurant, bar, or event, she eventually settled into life in Chicago. Looking back, she’s not quite sure when her one-bedroom apartment started to feel like home.

That's why she’s so shocked to find herself once again feeling unsettled. Her sleep hasn’t been great either, making her sluggish and heavy. In the week or so since Tito left for Florida, she has only left her house twice. Both of them were to see him play when he returned to the lineup after the All-Star break. 

When she looks around her apartment, she can see the small pile of his clothes that sits at the far end of the couch. She had washed them while he was away and folded them so they would be clean when he came back. 

That was a week ago. 

She’s happy that he’s back at training and back in the line-up. She appreciates the rigorous schedule that he's sticking to to get back to the top of his game. 

She understands that means she takes a back seat. It’s just that she wishes a little part of her didn’t resent it or herself for missing his company that she didn’t know she had gotten so used to.

She doesn’t pester him, though, not when he was on vacation and not now that he’s been back training. He still texts her every day, and she tries not to get too excited when he does, being mindful to not be too suffocating and demanding of his time and attention.

She figures it’s probably not a bad idea to realign her priorities: to focus on her work and on the book that she wants to finally finish soon.

Tito — February 14

Tito watches as the sky begins to lighten and decides to just give up on going back to sleep. He reaches over and checks his phone. 

5:48 am. 

Great. 

He unlocks his phone, which opens to the text thread with Evie he had been staring at after the game last night.

Monday, 4:46 pm evie 🧁: sorry, i don’t think i’ll be coming to the game tomorrow. i’m just totally under water with work right now. To evie 🧁: damn, that sucks. i’m sorry. do you want me to come over with some dinner tonight? To evie 🧁: or after the game tomorrow?

He didn’t receive a reply until past midnight that night.

Yesterday, 1:18 am evie 🧁: nah, it’s okay To evie 🧁: good morning to you too. how're you doing? work hasn’t killed you right? i can bring over some lunch. i bet you havent been eating much. Read

He quickly swipes out of his messages and locks his phone again. 

He stares out the window. They have only known each other for less than two months, but not hearing from Evie for so long throws him off-kilter.

This is so unusual, given their typical rhythm, that even if work has been busy, he’s worried, and underneath the worry, he’s confused. It seemed unlike Evie to not be open with him about whatever was bothering her— at least, he thought she was.

A little while later, he finds himself sitting in front of her favorite bakery on his way to her apartment. He waits for the clock to hit 9 a.m. before he heads in and picks up breakfast for them both: a selection of pastries and two coffees. It’s busier than he expects, but there are still plenty of their favorites left. 

He’s been to Evie’s building enough times now that the doorman recognizes him and buzzes him up the elevator straight away with a nod. It’s only when he's standing outside her door that he realizes he should've probably texted beforehand to make sure she was free.

Too late now. Tito rings her doorbell, his heart in his throat as he listens for any sound inside.

Somewhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes later, he hears some shuffling, and the door opens slowly. Standing in the entryway is Evie rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of his Canucks hoodie, sleep shorts barely peaking out under the hem. He rips his eyes away from the soft skin of her legs. 

She startles when she sees him, her eyes wide. Her messy hair and fuzzy slippers only intensify the warm fondness buzzing in his chest.

“Um, hi,” she says, stepping aside to wave him in. “What’s all this?”

“Nice hoodie,” he beams at her, a crooked smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“What?” She looks down and immediately covers her face with her hands. “Oh shit, this is yours. I was just grabbing the first hoodie I saw, and it was sitting on my— I’m sorry, do you want it back? I can go change.”

“Hey,” he says gently, setting the food down on the kitchen counter. “No, keep it on. I can’t really wear it out anymore, and it looks good on you.”

She cracks a smile for the first time this morning.

“Here, I brought you some breakfast and coffee— peppermint mocha, half sweet, with oat milk. I figured you might need something stronger with all the late nights you’ve been working.”

She stares at him silently for a long time before reaching for the coffee and whispering a quiet, “Thanks.”

He smiles at her and pulls her in for a quick hug, feeling some of the tightness in his chest melt away as he breathes in her scent. As he pulls back, he waves her to the couch.

“Go, sit.” He pushes her gently. “I’ll bring over the food.”

As if on cue, her stomach grumbles. “What did you get? Oh! Oooh! Good Ambler. My favorite,” she says excitedly, finally looking more like herself.

He smiles to himself as he puts the food down on the coffee table. “Yeah, I know! I got us the quiche and a bunch of their pastries.” He opens the box and watches as her eyes light up.

She laughs, “Wow, you really went all out.” 

“I guess I did,” he shrugs.

They eat in a comfortable silence for a while, both deep in thought. It’s been a few days since Tito has set foot in her apartment. He feels more at home here than in his own place. There are touches of Evie everywhere. 

She has shelves next to the TV console that are covered in books. There are at least five more books spread around the room. Her fuzzy blanket is draped across the back of the couch. There are candles on her coffee table, sitting next to colorful coasters with bad book puns on them. Unhung art and posters are leaning against the bottom of the walls. The space is so clearly lived in and loved.

Although, as he looks around, he can see the signs that things might be a bit off. There are dirty dishes piled up in the sink when there usually wouldn’t be any. There are stacks of papers spread across various surfaces. A box next to the bin for the overflowing trash. He counts at least seven mugs of mostly drunk tea around the space.

He frowns.

“So,” he starts cautiously, “how've you been?” He winces at how awkward that sounds.

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Busy? I guess mainly.” She stares at the muffin in her hands, pointedly avoiding his skeptical expression.

He sighs and reaches over, his broad hand lightly covering her wrist. “Hey, I feel like something has been off recently, and I want to know what’s going on. Is it just work that’s been crazy? Or is there something else?”

Evie looks up at him finally; their eyes meet, both assessing the other. He can see the dark circles that dull her tired eyes, her expression pained.

“Yeah, I’ve just been having trouble getting stuff done. But it’s not a big deal. It’s fine, though. I can handle it.” She frowns and picks at the remaining half of the muffin. 

“Hey,” Tito says gently. He reaches out, takes the muffin, and puts it down before taking her hands in his. The movement makes them turn to each other. “It’s okay if you’re struggling. Just tell me how I can help. I won’t judge you, okay?”

She shakes her head, tugging her hands back and hugging them to her body. “Yeah, I know, but I’m okay. I don’t want to be a pain—”

“Evie,” he says gently, “Asking for help doesn’t make you a pain. Look, we’re friends, right? You were there for me last month when I was having a really bad time. And now I want to be here for you. You should let me help where I can. Or at least tell me what’s wrong. I can’t guarantee I’ll always say or do the right thing, but I’ll listen, and I’ll try to help where I can, okay?”

She looks at him, searching his face for a lie and not finding one in his open and caring expression. “Okay,” she whispers with a small smile.

“Okay.”

He hands her back her muffin, and they finish up their breakfast. He takes their trash to the kitchen, and despite her complaints, he does the dishes as he makes them both a cup of tea.

When he sits back down on the couch, he finally speaks again, “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Or at least, if there’s anything I can do to help?”

She heaves a big sigh but does smile at him warmly before settling into the couch. “I guess I just had a kinda bad week last week? I'm kinda behind on stuff, and I got really in my head about it. Remember how I told you I moved here after a bad breakup? Well…” She shrugs.

“You don’t need to explain if you don’t want to. I know it sucks. I mean, I haven’t dated anyone seriously since before the pandemic. But we actually broke up like January 2020, so those first few months in lockdown were really rough. Just bad feelings and a whole lot of time.” 

She looks up at him, “Oh. I had no idea.”

“It’s not a big deal. That was quite a few years ago at this point, anyway. I’m over it now, but— I’m just saying that I know it can be hard.”

“Yeah,” she nods, fiddling with her mug before finally saying, “Honestly, I’m not that bummed about the breakup. It wasn’t bad or anything. Or at least nothing bad happened. Things just sort of just… I don’t know. I was just feeling like shit all the time.

“By the time I left, I had already been mentally checked out for a while, so I wasn’t really sad at all anymore. It was mainly hard because our lives were so entwined. 

“We had gone to grad school together, and we were working at the same company. We had all the same friends, and everyone loved him, you know? So, it was hard to leave that behind.”

He reaches out and squeezes her knee, encouraging her to keep talking.

“It’s just… I hate it, feeling like I’m falling behind.”

“Like on work?”

She nods weakly.

“Well, if it’s anything I’ve had to learn in my career, you’re more than your productivity. You don’t need to be perfectly productive all the time to be contributing something.”

“Yeah… it’s just that—” Evie sighs.

“What?”

She swallows heavily and looks out the window. “It’s just that… I hate feeling behind at work because it makes me feel like I’m behind on my career. And that’s really all I have right now. After— Like, I’m 28 years old, and what do I have to show for it.”

He studies her face and squeezes her knee again, drawing her gaze back to him. “Who told you that?”

“What?”

“Who told you that you’re behind on life?”

“Well… Pierre? I guess. My ex. He used to talk about success milestones—”

“Success what?” he interrupts.

She powers on. “Just, like, things I should accomplish by a certain age. And when I left, you know? I set back my life? Single again. Starting over. And when I left, Pierre kinda pointed that out. And all I have left is my career— a struggling career.”

“Okay, honestly?” He says, fuming, “Fuck Pierre. Like, what the fuck is that?”

“No,” she shakes her head, chewing on her bottom lip, “No. I don’t— He’s right.”

“He isn't right.” He's sitting up now, fully facing her. “He's not— Firstly, your career isn't struggling. You have a job you enjoy, and from everything I’ve heard from Kelsey and Leanne, you’re fucking good at it. You’re making progress with finishing your book every week, which is awesome. I see you working your ass off all the time. And on top of all that, you're a great fucking friend. And a great fucking person.”

He shakes his head and sighs loudly. “Evie, you don’t have to complete some stupid made-up checklist to be successful. Only you get to decide what counts as success in your life. That's the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. Honestly, Evie, I'm saying this as your friend, fuck Pierre for making you feel lesser and smaller with this bullshit.”

She looks at him, her face betraying her surprise at his outburst. His cheeks are warm and probably a little flushed, but he doesn’t care. He can feel the anger in his veins, opening and closing his fists to dispel some of the energy.

“I guess?” she says finally. “Pierre’s really not a bad guy. He’s a good person. We just— He just wasn’t a good fit for me.”

“Okay,” he concedes, silently disagreeing with her assessment.

“Thanks, though. For saying that. It means a lot.” She reaches out and squeezes his clenched fists. “Thank you. I'm okay, really. Overall, in the grand scheme of things, anyway. I’m sorry I didn’t come to your game yesterday.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to come to every game. It’s just an offer.” He smiles softly. “I mean, I’d love to have you there, obviously, but I’ll understand if you don't.”

“Okay,” she smiles back.

“So, do you think you can take today off? I think you might be a little burnt out.”

She sighs and looks at her phone, the emails trickling in. She knows she has the time; she always makes herself finish far earlier than whatever deadline her director gives her. She fires off a quick message to the group, telling them she’s taking a mental health day, before putting her phone face down on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” she smiles, “I can take today off.”

“Good,” he beams. He puts his arm around Evie’s waist and pulls her into his side. He reaches for the remote. “That’s good because I haven’t seen any Brooklyn Nine-Nine in like two weeks, and I know the next episode is a Halloween heist episode, and it’s been killing me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dummy. That’s our show. I can’t watch it without you.”

She laughs, “Okay.”

He puts on the show, smiling as it plays the cold open. He turns to her and tugs her in closer.

“Hey, Evie?”

“Yeah?”

“Please just tell me what’s bothering you next time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I will. I promise.” She smiles up at him from his side, and he feels his chest tighten.

A few episodes later, they've slid down on the couch so that she’s almost lying on top of him. He looks down at her head on his chest to see her sound asleep. He pauses the show and pulls out his phone.

To jason dickinson: yo, do you have any more restaurant recs? evie’s been having a rough week, i’m thinking maybe taking her out for dinner today might cheer her up jason dickinson: eyyyyyyy get it!!!!!! To jason dickinson: ????? get what??? jason dickinson: uh? is this a trick question?  To jason dickinson: no? jason dickinson: a date? laid? idk To jason dickinson: WHAT?!!!! jason dickinson: you’re asking for a date spot right? To jason dickinson: wtf jason, no. we’ve been through this. we’re just friends. jason dickinson: riiiiiiight. just friends who ask for a date spot on valentine’s day

Tito’s eyes widen as he glances at the calendar app on his phone.

February 14.

Valentine’s Day.

Fuck.

Next to him, Evie stirs, yawning.

“Hey,” she says, her voice muffled, “You paused the show?”

“Yeah, you fell asleep.”

She chuckles. “I guess I did.” She looks up at him and frowns. “What’s up, Tito? You got a weird look on your face.”

“Oh, um. I just realized what day it was.”

“What day is it?” she looks at her phone.

“Yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh!” she laughs, shaking her head. She pulls away, sitting up, and runs her fingers through her hair. “Okay? Did you have plans? I’m good here if you want to go.”

“What? No? What plans would I have?”

“I don’t know, Anthony. Maybe you’re an international man of mystery,” she laughs, lightly shoving his knee.

“Sure I am,” he says, rolling his eyes, “That’s not what I meant, though.”

“What did you mean then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you have plans.” She gives him an unimpressed look. “Okay, well, maybe you don’t have plans. But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Do friends get friends Valentine’s Day gifts?”

He sucks in a breath. “I mean, no? I don’t know.”

“You did get me a whole box of pastries. I feel like that’s pretty good. I mean it’s not like I’ve ever celebrated Valentine’s Day before.”

He freezes, brows furrowed.

“What? You never celebrated with Pierre?”

“Nope,” she shakes her head.

“Weren’t you together for like five years?”

“Yep!” she shrugs. “He just wasn’t into that sort of stuff. He thought it was stupid and a waste of money.”

“Come on, what the fuck?” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, we never did anniversaries either. It’s not a big deal.”

“Please tell me he at least did birthdays.”

“I guess. I mean, he always got me birthday and Christmas presents, but usually nothing major. I always planned a dinner and stuff with our group of friends for my birthday.”

He studies her face, his brows furrowed.

She sits up. “What?” 

“Seriously?”

She nods.

“I bet he always got you to plan his birthday parties too.” He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I don’t mean to be rude, but like. Fuck Pierre, man.”

She’s quiet for a second before saying softly, “It’s really not a big deal.”

He shakes his head. “I mean, sure, Valentine’s Day is kinda stupid and cheesy. But that’s the point. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use it as an excuse to show someone you love them.”

“Wow, Anthony. I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” she grins, bumping his shoulder.

“I’m not. He just sounds like he was being lazy and didn’t really care to try.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Tito. Guys're just like that.”

His eyes follow the sad smile she gives him, and he pauses. Her eyes are a little glassy, and her cheeks redder. He knows when to leave something be.

“Guys are absolutely not ‘just like that,’” he says, making air quotes. “But I’ll drop it.”

He lays back down, tugging on her arm. He mutters, “I just think that he should've cared enough to try, like, even a little bit.”

“God, you're such a sap. Imagine your teammates hearing about this.”

“I wouldn't be embarrassed, Evie. Like, at all,” he looks at her flatly.

She rolls her eyes and lays back down against him.

A few minutes later, she speaks up again. “So, you want to hit up some clubs tonight? Things always get hot and heavy on Valentine’s Day. Good night to pick-up.”

“It’s Wednesday, and I’ve got a game tomorrow,” he says, his voice hollow as he forces his eyes to stay on the screen.

“Lame,” she says, a relieved smile on her lips that he doesn't see.

Evie — March 2

When Evie comes to, she’s lying on her bed with her arm covering her eyes, panting. Her body still feels tingly, in the way it does after good, wild sex. It always leaves her a little dizzy and disoriented. She can hear the sound of heavy breathing next to her. She hums, pleased.

Her other outstretched hand is buried in soft hair. She tugs on a curl and smiles. She loves his curly hair. Evie has always had thick, straight hair, a blessing and a curse; it has never felt as soft as curly hair does. Her fingers twirl around the curl, playing with the springy coil.

She thinks maybe Tito will let his hair grow even longer. He looks so good with longer hair that forms actual curls. The way it falls in front of his eyes a bit makes him look so soft. She thinks about how he lays on the couch lazily, his hair splayed out on the cushion, and how his shirt rides up to show the sliver of skin above his low-slung sweats when he gets comfortable.

The urge to ask him if he’s going to cut his hair soon overtakes her exhaustion, and she moves her arm to look over.

“So—” Evie starts before she furrows her brows.

At that moment, she notices that instead of Tito’s baby blues, she's met with a pair of wide-eyed browns. Her entire body freezes as the night slams back into her consciousness. 

The dancing, the flirting, the meaningful looks, the cab ride home, the sex. God, the sex was fucking good. Her limbs hum in agreement as her chest tightens.

Well, these eyes gaze at her lazily, warm and soft. Evie’s hand is still in her curly mess of hair. The first thing she thinks is that it's actually longer than Tito’s hair is now before she immediately banishes his name from her mind completely. 

Evie can’t seem to relax her body enough to free her voice, which is caught in her throat.

Shit, what is her name?

Natalie? Natalia? Natasha? Nat for sure—

“Don’t worry,” Nat states, smirking, “I’m not staying. Just trying to catch my breath before leaving.”

Evie can’t help but feel unsettled and disoriented, but she forces her mind to quieten. Nat is really hot, and they did have a really good night. Slowly, Evie puts a coy smile back on her face and blinks slowly at her. 

“You don’t have to leave? If you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to kick you out.”

Evie has absolutely no idea why she just said that. She has never asked a hook-up if they want to stay. It must show on her face because Nat laughs. She shakes her head and presses another heated kiss to Evie’s lips, reminding her why she feels like she’s still floating outside of her body.

“I’ll get going.” Nat shakes her head and stands up, looking for her clothes in the mess on the floor. Evie probably should've cleaned up a little before going out.

She leans up on her elbows and lets her eyes trail down Nat’s body. Her mind finally focuses, and she whistles. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

Nat laughs. 

“Yes, baby girl. I’ve got to go to work tomorrow. This was very good, though,” Nat says while putting on her clothes. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask for your number or when we’ll see each other again. So you don’t need to give me the spiel. I knew— know what this was.”

Evie laughs at the exaggerated wink Nat gives her. She feels a little lighter with relief at that.

“Can I use your bathroom, though? Before I go.”

“Yeah, it’s right through there.”

“Thanks.” Nat sends her a warm smile before slipping into the bathroom.

Evie lays back down and rubs her eyes. That was fucking weird, what the—

Her bathroom door flies open.

“What the fuck?” Natalie says, holding up Tito’s bread trimmer.

“What?” 

“Do you have a boyfriend or something? Did you just fucking use me to cheat on someone?”

“No?” Evie sits up, confused.

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I was willing to overlook the men’s shoes and coat in your entryway; maybe they’re a friend’s. I was willing to overlook the sweatshirts and sweatpants strewn around your room. I figured maybe you just like being comfortable.” 

“What?” she squeaks through the lump in her throat.

Nat powers through her interruption. “But there’s a fucking beard trimmer in there. Two toothbrushes. Two towels. A curly-defining gel that you definitely don’t use. And the—”

“No, you’re—”

“Are you honestly going to tell me you live here alone? What stupid fucking excuse are you going to give me, huh? This is a one-bedroom apartment, dude. Whoever’s shit this is, he's definitely not your roommate.”

Evie stares at her, stunned, mouth opening and closing.

“God, you know what. Save it. I don’t want to fucking know,” she says before storming out of the bedroom. 

Evie hugs her knees in stunned silence, watching from her bed as Nat grabs her coat and shoes. She pleads with her brain for something to say and comes up empty. 

Nat throws her one last dirty look, her face twisting in a scowl at her continued silence. “Seriously, fuck you, Gigi.” 

The sound of the front door slamming makes Evie jump. She just sits there, staring into empty space for so long that she feels her butt go numb.

She flops back onto her bed, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes.

“What the fuck just happened?” she says to her empty room.

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[absolutewhore101]

Helloooo, I just found your account, saw that you like both Eddie Munson and 5sos, and i’ve had this idea in the back of my mind for a while, and since your requests are open i was wondering if you would maybe love the idea and write it?

Eddie Munson x f!reader inspired by “If you don’t know” by 5sos, happy ending? 🥹

If You Don't Know

A/N: i hope you enjoy! i had to (minorly) alter a few lyrics to fit the fic but other than that, i left it alone!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x ImpliedFem!Reader

Summary: song fic set to 'If You Don't Know' by 5 Seconds of Summer; angst to fluff

Warnings: angst, mentions of weed (but who's surprised)

Word Count: 1.6K

Minors DNI

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

Eddie was the first and only boy you’d ever loved. You didn’t even think love was an adequate word for the way you felt about him, but it would do the job until you found the one that was.

You’d started dating in January, and over the summer, you’d become so accustomed to spending every waking moment by his side that you didn’t know what to do when school started. 

As luck would have it, the two of you didn’t have a single class together, not even the same lunch period.

Outside of school, it was getting increasingly harder to find time for each other. Between your job and Eddie’s latest campaign, your schedules almost never aligned. 

And you were well aware of it. 

You talked to Eddie three times in the last week, all of which were short conversations, never about anything meaningful. The time apart was starting to put a strain on your relationship. 

Soon, homework was piling up, work was becoming overwhelming, and you were hardly talking to Eddie at all. Sometimes, it felt like you weren’t even together. 

You were stressed, overwhelmed, and just plain exhausted. 

But then, Eddie called you one Friday night while he was supposed to be at D&D.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, baby. Campaign got canceled tonight and I know you don’t have work soooo… pizza and movie night?” He asked. 

You thought about it. You were in possibly the worst mood you’d ever been in, but the thought of seeing Eddie for the first time in weeks was enough of a pickup for you to say, “fuck yeah. I’ll be there in 10.”

You didn’t bother changing, knowing that your pajama pants and one of Eddie’s t-shirts was exactly what he’d expect you to show up in. 

You let yourself into the trailer, immediately seeking out the comfort of your boyfriend, only to find Chrissy Cunningham walking out of his room. 

“Oh, hey!” She said, much too happily for your liking. 

“Hi… Chrissy.” You said as she walked right past you, straight out the front door. If she hadn’t greeted you, you wouldn’t have been sure that she realized you were there. 

You turned around, meeting your boyfriend's apprehensive face. 

“Seriously, Eds? Chrissy Cunningham?”

He shook his head. “You and I both know it’s not like that.”

“Do we?” You challenged.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you haven’t seen your girlfriend in almost a month, and when you finally find time for her, she comes over to see another girl leaving your room.”

Eddie was frozen. Did you really believe that? That after being together for so long, you thought he’d do that to you?

“Baby…” he trailed off, not sure what he could say to make you believe him. 

“Well?” You asked. “Do you have anything to say about that, or am I walking out of here assuming that you and Chrissy have something going on?”

Eddie’s mind was racing. If I could say the things I want to say, I’d find a way to make you stay, I’d never let you get away.

After nearly a minute of silence, you took a step away from him. 

“Eddie, I want you to want me that way, I need you to need me to stay.”

When he still didn’t respond, you turned around, heading for the door. 

“I guess it’s the latter, then.” You mumbled, opening the door and softly closing it behind you. 

You weren’t angry at him - it wasn’t his fault. You didn’t actually think he had something going on with her, but the stress of the last few weeks was getting to you, and when he didn’t outright deny it, it hurt. 

Eddie laid in bed that night, replaying your fight. He thought about all the things he loved about you. 

The taste of your skin, the way you looked - you had those eyes - the way you made him feel. He could name every song that made you cry. And when you’d fight, you would scream at him, call him crazy, but no matter how mad you were at him for laughing at you, you’d always press a kiss to his waiting lips. Then his thought drifted to the shirt that constantly hung from your frame, the one you’d been wearing earlier. 

Was it gone for good? Is there no tomorrow?

He thought about going after you - about showing up at your door at three in the morning to beg for your forgiveness - but ultimately decided not to. 

No, he needed time to plan what he was going to say. He wasn’t always the best at expressing the way he felt, especially when it came to you. 

That’s why, the second he woke up the next day, he dialed your number.

“Hello?” You mumbled your greeting, obviously having just woken up. 

“Hi, baby.” Eddie said quietly. 

“Oh. Hey, Eddie.”

No ‘Eds’? God, he really messed up.

“I just wanted to call you and try to explain what happened last night. With Chrissy and everything…”

You sighed. “Okay.”

“Listen, sweetheart, I need you to understand that nothing is going on between us.”

“Then why was she in your bedroom?” You asked, not accusatory, just genuinely curious. 

“She wanted to see my record collection, but that’s beside the point.”

“Besides the point?” You asked, starting to get a little angry. “Eddie, you used that exact pickup line on me!”

Shit.

“Well, yes, I did, but-”

“No buts, Eddie!” You said. 

Eddie closed his eyes, trying to figure out how to come back from this. 

“Listen to me, Chrissy wasn’t there to see my record collection, she was there because she wanted to buy some weed.”

You were silent. 

“You expect me to believe that?” You asked.

“What? Why would I lie about that?” Eddie countered.

“You want me to believe that Miss Perfect herself went to your trailer to ‘buy some weed’? Honestly, Eddie, how stupid do you think I am?”

“I’m serious! Why else would she be there?” Eddie was now getting frustrated. Why didn’t you believe him?

“Because she’s Chrissy Cunningham! I’ve seen the way you look at her, Eddie, the same way everyone looks at her. Like she’s the prettiest fucking girl on the planet.”

“Okay, maybe I used to, but you're out of your mind if you think I still do when I have you. Do you think I was gonna, what, put the moves on her?”

“I don’t know why you’d even bother.”

It was Eddie’s turn to be silent. 

“You don’t mean that.” He said quietly. 

You were silent. 

“No, you know what? Go ahead. Rip my heart out. If you think that’s what love’s all about…”

“No, Eddie-” You started. 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

And with that, Eddie placed the phone back on the receiver.

Your hand dropped to your side, still holding your phone, as you moved to rest your forehead on the wall. 

Fuck.

— 

It had been a week since your fight with Eddie, and it was killing you. You’d never in your life thought those words, so you stunned even yourself when you said them. 

Eddie had his campaign Friday night, so first thing Saturday morning, you were pulling up to Eddie’s trailer. 

You thought about knocking, but before you could lift your hand, the door swung open. 

Eddie stood on the other side, clad in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants as he looked at you. After a few moments of observing each other, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside. 

“I’m sorry.” You said. “There’s nothing in the universe that could make me believe what I said and I’ve been beating myself up over it for the last week. Eds, I never should have said that, and I am so, so sorry that I did.”

Eddie just looked at you, in complete disbelief that you thought you were in the wrong here. 

“Come on.” He said, leading you down the hallway into his bedroom, gently shutting the door behind the two of you. 

You took a seat on his bed, watching as he began to anxiously pace around the room. 

“I need to explain what happened, because I never should’ve had another girl in my room without letting you know what was happening beforehand. I just…” he trailed off. Why was it so hard to just tell you how he felt? “God, I don’t know if I can do this.” He mumbled. 

You were shocked. Just like that, he couldn’t do this?

“Eddie.” You said, getting his attention. “If you don’t know, then just let me go. I know I fucked up, but if this is too much for you right now, I can go.” You finished, standing up to leave. 

“NO!” He yelled, shocking both of you. “Um, sorry. No. No, that’s not what I was saying. God, why am I so bad at this?”

Your quiet giggle was enough to bring him to his senses, and suddenly, he knew exactly what he needed to say. 

He took a deep breath. 

“Sweetheart, you are the love of my life. There’s never been another girl who can make me feel the way you do. I know what it looked like was happening when Chrissy was here, and I’m sorry that I didn’t explain it very well the first time. Believe it or not, Miss Perfect is a pothead. But! I told her I couldn’t deal to her anymore and I hooked her up with one of my buddies, and I don’t think she even acknowledged that.”

You nodded along. 

“I love you more than anything in this world. More than Metallica, more than my chains, hell, more than weed! Okay? It’s only you. It’s only ever been… you.” He finished. 

You grabbed his face, pressing your lips to his. Your mouths moved in sync, saying all the things that could never be put into words.

When you pulled back, Eddie’s face was flushed and his lips were slightly swollen.

He was a sight. 

“I love you, too, Eds. Please don’t forget that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

[knightofsuperior]

Life after Death

Fandom: Fire Emblem, Fire Emblem Awakening, Fire Emblem Three Houses

Summary:

Dimitri and an unlikely companion ruminate on what life is about. You have a lot of time to do that when you're dead.

Read the fic here and check out an excerpt/my thoughts below!

Spoilers ahead, naturally.

Excerpt:

Something occurred to Dimitri as Robin was detailing his latest findings (something or another about how, as “souls,” they don’t need to eat, which only served to make Dimitri realize how hungry he was).  Dimitri had never asked Robin how he got here. Well, he hadn’t asked Robin much. He’d sat silently as the tactician babbled on, preferring the sound of his prattle to nothing at all. Still, once the thought was there, it bubbled up. And up. And up. Until, eventually, it popped. “How?” Robin tapped his chin. “It’s an easy answer, but it might be hard to believe.” “Try me.” Dimitri raised an eyebrow. “Was it one of Edelgard’s soldiers? Or perhaps a brigand?” “...I’m sorry,” Robin admitted, “But I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Dimitri paused. “...Edelgard von Hresvelg,” he clarified. “The Emperor of Adrestia.” Robin shook his head. “Never heard of her or it.” Dimitri’s eyes widened. “Were you raised on a continent outside of Fodlan?” “I presume so, as I’ve never heard tell of a Fodeland.” Despite himself, Dimitri couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. Robin’s bluntness felt...familiar. --- “So you’re saying it’s not pronounced Fair-geese?” “C’mon, Teach, cut the guy some slack. He’s probably heard it pronounced wrong all his life.” “Claude, do not teach her such foolishness-” --- “It’s...not pronounced that way.”  “I see.” Robin crossed his arms. “Well, perhaps this will convince you: I died fighting a Fell Dragon. You don’t have those in Fodeland, do you?” Dimitri stared at him for a moment. He thought back to the siege of Gareg Mach. "...I believe we have just the one." “...what.”

Author's Note: This one is a favorite because, honestly, it was difficult to write. I had only really just started to get to know Dimitri as a character, and it had been years since I played Awakening, but I wanted to put my best foot forward for this gift fic. I also wanted to take on something a little more somber than my usual fare, while offering a sense of possibility and closure in equal measure for these characters.

Hopefully I did a decent job at that.

[specialinterestshows]

Learn about Dominik Mysterio’s sleeping habits and more in the latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic Absolute Smokeshow.

Warnings for this section: Sleepwalking, somnophilia, hickies, cannabis mention

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Absolute Smokeshow (Part 70 of ?): Demons In Her Dreams

Something made you startle awake. You weren’t sure what, or when you had fallen asleep, but one thing was undeniable, even in the darkness: Dom had somehow migrated away from Rhea when the three of you had been cuddling and was currently latched onto your arm like a koala.

On your other side, your girlfriend had one hand resting on your hair and the other arm swung loosely over your midsection.

Then, you heard what must have woken you up in the first place: Rhea mumbling in her sleep.

It was incoherent at first, muttered against the pillow. Then, she shifted her head suddenly and her fingers twitched, grabbing at the empty air.

“Leave ‘er ‘lone,” she huffed, shifting onto her other side with a heavy slump.

Then silence.

Just when you were starting to drift off to sleep again, Rhea yelled out your name and sprang up to a sitting position. You tried to sit up as well, to soothe her, but you were tethered to the bed as Dom kept holding onto you tightly.

“Rhe, I’m right here, it’s okay!” you tried to reassure her.

“Where did they go?” she asked, putting an arm in front of you to block an invisible foe, “I’m going to get them. I’ll get all of them if it means keeping you safe.”

“It was a nightmare, babe,” you told her gently, putting your free hand on her tense defending arm.

The realization seemed to hit Rhea gradually as she slowly relaxed her muscles.

“So you’re okay?” she checked, sounding less disoriented.

“I’m okay! We’re all safe; it’s just you, me, and Dom here. I would turn on the light and show you, but he doesn’t seem to want to part with my arm.”

The mattress shifted and a second later, Rhea was turning on her nightstand light with a click. Despite the raised voices and sudden light, Dominik was still fast asleep.

“Awww,” she cooed, stress dissipating from her face as she looked down at the two of you, “Yeah, he’s my sweet little koala when he gets tired.”

“Does he always sleep so heavily?” you asked, trying to slowly pull your arm from his grasp with more and more effort - and no results.

“Usually, no,” Rhea explained, “But after a show, a chase sequence, getting stoned, and having a threeway…”

You give an understanding nod, but your arm was asleep at this point and your girlfriend noticed your discomfort.

“I might have a way to get him to let go of you,” she began, standing up, “But I can’t promise he won’t start grabbing some other parts of you instead.”

“I just want my circulation back,” you groan, watching her move over to where Dom was.

Stretching and cracking her knuckles, Rhea looked as though she was preparing to do hard manual labor. Cozying up behind Dom, a mischievous look on her face, Rhea moved his shoulder and head to expose his neck. Then she bit down hard, keeping a hold on his hair as he started moaning - softly at first, until she started sucking on his skin and growling.

“Mami?” Dom whimpered, slowly releasing you to reach for her instead.

You winced as your arm felt the blood return like far too many pinpricks, the pain passing over you.

“How did you wander away from me, hm?” Rhea pulled away to ask Dom, “You were my cute little koala on the other side of the bed when I fell asleep.”

“Dunno,” he mumbled, touching a hand to his new hickey, “Sorry, Mami.”

“I’m not the one you should apologize to,” she said, nodding her head in your direction. You were currently trying to speed up the process of your arm waking up by curling your fingers into a fist and letting go, over and over.

“‘M sorry,” he said to you, rubbing his eyes, “Are you both awake ‘cause of me?”

“No, love, don’t worry,” Rhea muttered, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, “Just relax - Mami’s here.”

It worried you that she hadn’t mentioned whatever nightmare she had woken up from, but rather than saying anything, you watched Rhea pick up Dom as if he didn’t weigh a thing and set him down on the other side of the bed again. She tucked him in, sat between the two of you, and stroked his hair until he fell back asleep.

“There,” Rhea whispered with finality, turning to look at you. Then, seeing the worry on your face, she asked, “What is it, gorgeous?”

“You woke up from a nightmare,” you said gently, watching her expression change, “It sounded like a lot. Do you want to talk about it?”

When she hesitated, you put your hand between the two of you, palm facing up. Giving you a small smile, Rhea took it and sighed.

“People were running after us. Trying to hurt you. Every time I looked back there were more of them and they kept getting faster,” she didn’t look at you as she spoke, but you could tell recalling the nightmare still scared her.

“You’re safe,” you told her, giving her hand a squeeze before pulling her into a hug, “I’m safe. No one is coming after us.”

Rhea hugged back tighter and you made a mental note to offer her a joint if and when she let go.

[end part seventy of ?]

Part 71: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/748965042676006912/absolute-smokeshow-part-71-of-news-to-me

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Tag list (thank you!)

@littlemiss-fanficlover , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister

[romirola]

One Last Pre-Post Teaser Sunday

Chances are, sometime between February 2023 and now, you heard me blabbing that I am working on a Redactedverse Power Swap fic. Maybe you’ve even checked out one or more about the snippets I posted. (Find those here, here, here, here, here, here, and here, if you are interested!) I’m so excited to say that I have the full, 70K+ word draft finished! Ahhhhhhhhhhh! There is still a lot of work to do before I’ll begin posting it to AO3, such as revising to ensure the prose is tight, purposeful, and connected; editing for clarity and typos; adding chapter breaks; writing the summary, tags, and pairings; gathering together links to give people credit for the ideas/headcanons/OCs they generously donated; etc. I’m aiming to have the first chapter of this fic posted to AO3 by the first week of August at the latest.

To celebrate, I’m going to post one last excerpt of the story while it is still a W.I.P. Please consider this an open tag to share whatever kind of work you’d like to share. No pressure to participate, but I’ll tag the wonderful people who have asked to be tagged at each update of the story: @thegoldenlittlerose, @shellssstuff, @starlitangels, and the wonderful people who have contributed something to the story: @claracatlady, @pinksparkl, @floofdeloop, @frenchiefitzhere, @gwenifred, @palilious, and @itsdaifuku. 

Speaking of a tag list, would you like to be tagged when this fic is posted and updated? Please let me know, and I’ll be happy to add you to the list! 

I truly cannot wait to share this story with you all. Until then, find a snippet featuring Angel, David, and drama below. 

Angel cowered into David, lifting their front paws up, one and then the other, like they couldn’t quite process the fact that those paws belonged to them. 

“I’m going to shift, too,” David announced. “It might be easier for us to communicate, and then we can figure this out together.”

Angel blinked deliberately, trusting their mate to help. 

David closed his eyes to carve out a bit of calm that would allow him to enact the complicated, though comforting, process of shifting, even as this perplexing storm of chaos raged around him. He could freak out about this later. Right now, his Angel needed him. 

As he had done so many times before, David reached for his core so that he could initiate the shift. Normally, at the sight of his mate in distress, his wolf would’ve been anxious and eager to come into being, ready to rid the world of any threat towards the ones he loved. Strangely enough, David’s wolf hadn’t stirred all through Angel’s shifting incident. 

With a sinking heart, David realized that he couldn't reach his wolf. He couldn’t even feel his core. Again and again, he tried, but it was like there was nothing there inside to feel. Nothing at all. 

“I… I can’t!” David exclaimed, one hand grabbing a fistful of his shift and the other a fistful of Angel’s soft fur. 

No, not their fur. 

Even as he felt like the world was breaking around him, David’s mind was putting together the jagged pieces together into the seemingly illogical, but apparently accurate, puzzle they formed. 

“I can’t shift. I can’t feel my core at all. My magic!” David brushed his palm across Angel’s neck before he let it settle onto their chest. He spoke haltingly, like the words were foreign sounds on his tongue. “I think my magic might somehow be inside you, Angel.”

[honestlydarkprincess]

Omggg I wanna know about all of them!!!!

Okay but, pls tell me more about the Reckless Buck Fic

💜🩵💜🩵

hehehe okay well reckless buck is for my most beloved @loserdiaz because she claimed it

it's buck was reckless (with good intentions) on a call and eddie gets upset, buck leaves the house to take a walk so everyone can calm down and gets hit by a car >:) because i'm just a sucker for bleeding out on the phone just wanting to hear the love of your life's voice one last time (don't worry buck is okay in the end)

EDIT: I FORGOT TO PUT A LIL SNIPPET

Buck hadn’t meant to be reckless, really he hadn’t. For the last few years he had been trying to get better— really think through his responses on rescues more than he had before. After a few too many close calls, his latest one having actually lead to his death— as temporary as it might have been— he had slowly realized that he needed to be more careful. That he had people waiting on him to come home, counting on him. He had Eddie and Christopher to think about now. Not that they were really his, at least not in the way he really wanted them to be— but just because Eddie didn’t want him the same way Buck wanted him, didn’t mean that Buck wanted to do anything that would make him have to leave them. But.

ask me about my wips