#tommy on my mind tommy on my mind tommy on my tommy on my tommy on my mind

[drewharrisonwriter]

Softer

Status: One Shot, Complete.

Pairings: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary: Marriage has been good to Joel—he’s happier, softer, and maybe a little pudgier.

Word Count: 1,592 words

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+), dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (hehe), mentions of weight gain, body appreciation, strong language

A/N: This fic was written for @beefrobeefcal’s Married Joel Sits on You Challenge! Am I too late for this challenge? 😅 Please forgive me for any mistakes, English is not my first language and it's my first time joining such a challenge, and I utterly enjoyed it. Thank you so much Beefro for this 💖

The prompt was: "Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline."

P.S. Do you enjoy my writing? If so, I’d truly appreciate any support through comments, likes, and reblogs! If you’re able, donations or writing commissions would also mean the world to me as I’m currently managing everything from my phone due to financial constraints. You can donate here or DM me your commission ideas. Thank you so much for your love and support! 💜

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

Joel adjusted his sunglasses, glancing at his reflection in the mirrored elevator walls. It was late afternoon, and they’d just come back up from the beach to their hotel room. He scratched his beard, tugging his shirt down over his belly, feeling the fabric cling just a little too snugly.

Tommy’s teasing echoed in his mind. "You packin’ some extra cargo these days, big brother?" The little shit had poked his side earlier as they lounged by the beach, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Asshole," Joel muttered under his breath.

You glanced up at him, curious. "What’s that, honey?"

Joel shook his head, giving you a half-smile. "Nothin’, sweetheart. Just thinkin'." He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you close as the elevator doors slid open. You walked out together, your hand slipping down to his lower back as you strolled through the quiet hallway.

“Tommy’s words still botherin’ you?” you asked softly, your voice coming off with gentle teasing. You gave his belly a playful squeeze. “He’s full of shit, Joel. I love you like this. Tommy don’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”

Joel grunted in response, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He didn’t say anything as you continued walking, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly easing under your touch.

Once you reached your suite, Joel swiped the keycard, and you both rushed inside, quickly locking the door behind you. You double-checked the lock, raising an eyebrow at him. “You sure you locked it, Joel? You know how those girls are… Wouldn’t put it past Sarah or Ellie to barge in at the wrong moment.”

Joel let out a low chuckle, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you close. “I ain’t paid this much for a vacation just to get interrupted when I’m tryin’ to make another baby with my hot wife,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Trust me, darlin’. That door ain’t budging.”

A playful grin tugged at your lips as you teased, “Baby, aren’t you a little old for a newborn?”

Joel cut his eyes at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re real funny, you know that?” He dipped his head, brushing his lips against yours. “Doesn’t matter how old I am. If it were up to me, I’d keep you pregnant all the damn time.”

Your body flushed at his words, the heat between you flaring with the roughness in his tone. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice thick with need. “You’d keep me pregnant, huh?”

Joel’s hands slid down to your ass, squeezing as he pulled you close. “Damn right. We could start right now if you want,” he growled, kissing the side of your neck. “Or maybe after a couple more vacations like this one.” His lips traveled lower, sucking a mark just beneath your ear.

Your breath caught as you smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t mind more vacations first,” you teased, your hands wandering down his back as the two of you continued to make out as you made your way toward the bed.

Joel’s large frame practically caged you in as he guided you down onto the plush mattress. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off as he hovered over you, his body solid and warm. His fingers made quick work of your bikini top, tossing it aside.

As he leaned over you, your hand ghosted over his once-firm stomach. Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline.

“You look so good…” you hummed. 

Joel’s expression softened for a moment, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he kissed you. “You mean I’ve gone fat?” He grinned before leaning in, his lips grazing your ear.

You laughed, cupping his face. “I love it,” you assured him, pulling him in for another kiss, deeper this time.

As you kissed, Joel’s hand slid between your legs, fingers dipping into the wet heat between your thighs. “Goddamn, baby,” he groaned against your mouth, his fingers teasing your entrance before sliding two thick digits inside you, curling them just right.

Your body jerked at the sensation, and you whimpered softly, “Jesus, Joel!” It’s pretty good and scary at the same time that he knows exactly where and where to curl his fingers inside you to hit that soft spot that makes you see stars. 

His fingers worked inside you, while drawing slow circles on your clit with his thumb that had your hips bucking up toward him. “So needy,” he murmured, “But you’re gonna have to wait, sweetheart. Wanna take my time with you.”

You gasped, head falling back against the bed as he worked you over, his free hand holding your hip steady. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and the pressure was just enough to send sparks flying through your body. “Fuck, Joel…”

Joel growled, his mouth closing over your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You moaned at the sensation, your body arching into his touch as his fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm inside you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging hard as the pleasure built deep in your core. He kissed his way back up to your lips, his beard rough against your skin as he murmured, “You’re gonna cum for me, baby. But not yet.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your body trembled beneath him as he finally pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping for breath.

“I need you, Joel,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”

Joel positioned himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. “You’re gonna take every inch of me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “Gonna bury myself so deep inside you, I’ll be the only thing you can feel.”

With one slow, deliberate thrust, Joel buried himself to the hilt, his cock stretching you wide as his blunt tip kissed your cervix. You gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders, clinging to him as he held himself still, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his forehead pressed against yours as he began to move, each slow thrust hitting deeper than the last. “You feel so good… so fuckin’ tight around me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he picked up the pace, his cock dragging against every nerve inside you, setting your body on fire. “Joel…” you gasped, your voice breathless.

He leaned down, his lips closing over one of your nipples again, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before sucking hard. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you moaned, your hips rolling up to meet each of his thrusts.

Joel groaned, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub slow circles on your clit. “Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

Your body responded instantly, the tension snapping as your orgasm crashed over you. You cried out, your walls clenching tight around him, your vision going white as a wave of pleasure rippled through you.

Joel’s hips stuttered as you came, and with a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his release. He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and trembling from the intensity of it all.

After a few moments, Joel gently rolled off you, still catching his breath as he sat up on the edge of the bed. “Don’t move, darlin’,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom. He returned moments later with a warm, damp towel, gently cleaning you up with tender strokes.

“C’mere,” Joel whispered, tossing the towel aside and pulling you into his arms. You curled up against his chest, his warmth and steady heartbeat lulling you into a blissful daze. He kissed the top of your head, his large hand rubbing slow circles on your back. 

“You okay, sweetheart?”You smiled sleepily, nuzzling into his chest and just humming your reply. 

Joel chuckled, brushing a hand through your hair. “Good thing we locked that door. Last thing I need is Sarah or Ellie walkin’ in while we’re busy.”

You snickered, burying your face into his chest with a soft laugh. “We’ve done a good job avoidin’ that so far.”

Joel sighed contentedly, running his hand along your back. “Yeah, but I swear, if they catch us one day, Tommy’s gonna have a field day. He’s already givin’ me shit about puttin’ on a little weight.”

You laughed harder, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him, your hand slowly sliding down to his soft belly. “This pudge’s the proof you’re enjoyin’ yourself, Joel.”

Joel chuckled, his chest rumbling as he pulled you closer. “Hell, maybe you’re right,” he admitted with a smirk. “Can’t say I’m complainin’, though.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you like this. Softer, but still strong.”

Joel squeezed you gently, his voice quieter. “Feels good, don’t it? Finally bein’ able to enjoy things.” 

You could only hum in response. You let sleep take you, safe in the warmth of his arms.

[beefcakekinard]

I have a headcanon question! Do you think Buck ever got pegged before he started dating Tommy?

anon, there is no question in my mind about this. buck has gotten pegged so much that he and his prostate are old friends. buck has gotten pegged so much he can offer advice about harnesses without needing to double-check his information. buck has gotten pegged so much that he considers it vanilla.

tommy casually asks about buck's experience with anal once, when they've just started dating, and buck shows him his favourite dildo.

[tinytalkingtina]

Born to Run

Part 1 of Running with the Devil, a Steddie role reversal series

4k words | Rating: E

Tags/CW: Role reversal no upside down AU with some canon divergence, Jock/Track Star!Eddie, Metalhead/drug dealer!Steve, appalachian Eddie, confident bisexual Steve, Eddie has a sexuality crisis but is in denial, Eddie's sleeping mind decides to take matters into its own hands, wet dream (contains spanking and public humiliation), running of both the literal and metaphorical kind, child abuse referenced indirectly (physical beatings that happened in the past)

Read now on Ao3, and be sure to read @little-annie's Part 2 from Steve's POV, "Metal Health will Drive you Mad"

The sex dream within this fic is brought to you by the Week 4 prompt "slap" of the @steddiesmuttyseptember event

Eddie was always a runner. If you asked Wayne, he apparently skipped straight from crawling to toddling around as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. When he got older, it was a release valve, for everything and anything shitty in his life.

He didn’t have to think about his mom pulling a disappearing act, or his dad getting himself arrested (again). The world would narrow until the only sounds he could hear were the rushing in his ears and the smack of his sneakers on pavement.

Running had brought him to where he was now, as he clawed his way up the proverbial high school ranks. Anyone at this party would look at him and only see the triumphant senior captain of the track team, fresh off a successful meet. Every keg stand, every heroic retelling of a close race, every sloppy makeout session with a cheerleader, kept the attention on the Eddie of the present. 

No one needed to remember the wide-eyed weirdo with patched baggy clothes, nearly ten when his classmates would only turn nine that year.

All around him, the crowd ebbed and flowed between the alcohol and the bonfire, the flickering flames and shadows making it hard to tell who was who. Someone stumbled into Eddie, breaking him out of his brooding.

“Whoops, sorry Eddie! Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later.” Before he could say anything, the giggling cheerleader pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. (He knew he went on a date with her about a month ago, but her name eluded him. Tina, maybe, or Vicki?)

He forced a grin back. “Of course you didn’t mean it sugar. Gonna hold you to that ‘kay?”

The girl possibly named Tina swooned at the tiny bit of accent he'd carefully slipped in. Just a touch could be charming to the fine folks of the Midwest, even if what he ended up using was way less Appalachian hick and more refined Southern gentleman than his momma's family had ever spoken in their lives.

As soon as her back was turned, he let the smile slide off. His post-meet high wore off too quickly tonight, and it left him well, twitchy.

An arm slung itself over his shoulder. "Ed my man, this party is wild! Your best work yet dude." Tommy grinned at him, already drunk. Neither of them commented on how close Tommy was pressing himself into Eddie. Or how Eddie wasn't quite moving away. But then again, the two of them had perfected the art of leaving things unsaid after what happened sophomore year, how close they had come to—no.

"Heh, yeah. Hey, where's Carol? She's gonna be pissed you abandoned her."

"Please, Carol's fine. She's busy talking with Lisa Carmichael. Speaking of which, she's really into you. Come on, get your dick wet, you deserve it after that 800 meter. We're fucking going to states!" His last sentence was said much louder, and a chorus of cheers and whoops predictably echoed back from celebratory partygoers. The twitchiness grew.

"I dunno man, not really feeling it tonight." Eddie tried to subtly back up a little bit, but Tommy just swayed forward into his space again.

“Trust me, you won’t be feeling like that when you're balls deep in a nice tight—"

"Tommy will you just fucking stop? What's with your obsession with my dick huh?"

A look of fear and hurt flashed across Tommy's face for a second, before it was replaced with a scowl. Fuck that was the wrong thing to say and danced way too close to the thoughts about—nope, they were not gonna talk about that.

Eddie carefully pat Tommy on the shoulder instead of thinking. "Shit sorry, it's fine, you're just looking out for me, right? I appreciate it, just not uh, really in the partying mood for some reason." 

Tommy managed to recover his grin. "Oh, duh, why didn't you say so? That fucking freak Harrington finally showed up about thirty minutes ago. Sure he's got something that'll make you unwind a bit. Here, have one on me.”

Eddie wanted to snap that he didn’t need pity money. He got the kegs supplied just fine on his own, hadn’t he? But Tommy was still holding himself tensely several steps away. Tommy, who in sixth grade biked over every other day even after his parents had told him to stay away from the trailer park. Who “accidentally” always had a second pudding cup tucked in with his lunch for sharing. Whose summertime freckles were just starting to fade but Eddie knew still trailed down all the way to his—. 

Besides, maybe weed would take the edge off whatever ugly thing kept rearing its insistent head inside him tonight. Help him forget about the looming pressures of the future and the things he wasn’t going to think about, help him feel normal again.

“Thanks Tommy, I’ll try and relax.” Eddie grabbed the money and set off down the path towards Skull Rock, where Harrington always held court. The chill wind rustling through the trees was a welcome respite to his overheated skin.

The walk over to the next clearing was only a few minutes, but by the time Eddie came upon it, the thrum of bass and general teenage debauchery had faded into a low murmur.

Instead, Skull Rock reverberated with the sound of tapping and gentle humming. Eddie’s heart picked up a little.

Read the rest on Ao3!

It's finally here! This began life as a brain worm that Annie and I have turned into a whole fully expanded universe. We can't wait to write more with these two :D

Tagging a few folks who showed interest in the original Wiggly Wednesday post (but please feel free to ignore): @eyesofshinigami @augustjustice @griefabyss69 @hairstevington

Thank you to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the runner divider!

@dreamy-jeans137 @eriquin @hbyrde36 @hotluncheddie

[marvelousbuckley]

The saddest part of me (chapter 18)

It's time for the angst with a happy ending to show some happiness ❤️

This fic has: ex to lovers, BuckTommy, angst with a happy ending, a depiction of ADHD and rejection sensitive dysphoria, a car accident (but they are okay), some love (a lot of it), Bobby being happy.

You can find my work on AO3

Excerpt:

More fear than harm, that's what Hen had said as she helped him out of the vehicle while Tommy regained his senses. Bobby had been the first to volunteer, ready to stay at the bedside of the two injured men, before finally being convinced by Eddie to go back to work.  “I'll take care of our idiots, don't worry. The team needs you more.” He had offered a reassuring smile to Bobby, who had finally accepted his role as captain and left the ER with the two paramedics.  Now Eddie stood there, in the same room as the two men, his gaze shifting from Tommy to Buck as he tried to make sense of the situation. Buck looked nervous, worried about Tommy, ready to throw himself at his feet to apologize. Tommy, on the other hand, looked away, almost ashamed, searching for anything to take his mind off the situation.  “Can you tell me again what happened?” asked the former military man, leaning against the wall. “I find it hard to believe that you just lost control of the vehicle. I mean, Tommy was driving-”

it's always kinda hard to tag people bc i don't totally remember everyone oops, hope you won't mind the tags ❤️

@girlwonder-writes @bangpop91 @typicalopposite @nine-one-wanton

 @goldenhxurs, @captainwitharedstar, @leandra-winchester, @shaunashipman

@aaronntviet, @kinardevans @rdng1230 @searching-for-the-moon

@do-androids-dream-ao3acc @xofemeraldstars @nymeria1105 @kinkley-are-adorkable-flirts

@v88sy @bidisasterevankinard @kinardbuckleys @sunnywithachanceofbi

@banxnq @theotherbuckley @waywaychuck @aplaceinme

@tillyread @jaxkssn @cliophilyra @desert--moonchild

[copinghex]

Basis | T.S

Summary: "His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash"

The house was uncharacteristically cold for an autumn night, the wind whistled through the windows crevices and that was the only sound to be heard, even the maids' heels were silenced by the fall of the night.

The crash of the stock market affected the Shelby company to levels no one could foresee, since everyone assumed their currency was safe in Michael's hands. They were far from bankruptcy, as a matter of fact they would never have to worry about going back to the Watery Lane again, but the concern was inevitable.

The big clock in the hallway announced midnight and Y/N jumped at the sound of the heavy pendulum, usually the maids kept the clock from making any noise so it wouldn't disturb Tommy's light sleep, it seemed that tonight they forgot to.

Before entering her shared bedroom, she waited to see if the bang had woken up her baby, no cry was heard, making it feel like she was alone in the house.

However, she wasn't, Tommy sat at her dressing table brooding with a glass of whiskey, his shoulders hung low and he barely noticed her presence. She knew that state of him very well, he was stuck into his mind, thoughts running in his head like a down spiral.

She approached him slowly, as if he was a wounded war horse. Her gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, the tense muscles fitted on her palm begging to be looked after. 

All Tommy offered as an answer was a slow blink and another sip of his whiskey, the bottle was full earlier that evening and almost empty by then. Y/N didn't doubt he had a high resistance to alcohol and yet, she couldn't help but worry.

"So what have you decided? I know Linda didn't let you speak," she referred to the family meeting they had.

"Nothing yet," Tommy mumbled, "fucking nothing," 

She took the glass from his hand before he could take another sip, a few drops trickled on his trousers and he cursed trying to take it back. In a quick gulp, she finished the drink.

"What are you doing, Tom?" she scolded.

"Y/N please," he sighed, "not now, not fucking now," 

"Look at state of you, stand up, Tommy," she demanded, but he didn't move at all, "fucking stand up!"

Tommy's eyes widened as she pulled him up with all her strength, he stumbled on his stool and firmly held onto her arms, certainly the spots would get sore later.

"Are you drunk?" she asked quietly, the look in her eyes didn't hide the concern and Tommy didn't have the heart to push her away.

However, he didn't answer, instead his rough hands traveled to her nape and tangled his fingertips on her hair. At that moment he was unable to express the relief only her presence brought, he was certain that he'd go mad if he had to deal with everything alone.

Tommy stared at her gentle eyes and she stared back. The face she very much loved was forming wrinkles, gray hair hid itselves in his well drawn eyebrows, above everything he looked exhausted.

Cupping his cheeks, she traced the scars on his cheek and under his chin, a wave of overwhelming affection washed over her,

"You're my basis, Tommy," she whispered, "I know I don't say it often, I know I don't say it enough, but the truth is that none of this would make sense without you," 

Tommy hid the shock her words caused by looking down at his own feet, he was beyond surprised. So he wasn't just an income, someone actually cared for him, the idea nearly brought tears to his eyes, he always thought being loved would be comfortable and relieving, but it only formed a knot in his throat.

He didn't see himself as worthy of love, especially not hers. Tommy couldn't tell exactly when he started to think she should leave him, he only thought someday she would and he wouldn't have the right to complain, because he was well aware dealing with him was a burden.

Noticing a single tear running down his face, she quickly brushed it off and pulled him to her arms. His chin rested on her shoulder as he held his breath, a trick to keep himself from crying he learnt in his childhood.

Nevertheless, he wasn't able to keep up with it when her hands traveled through his back. While one held the back of his neck, the other traced his spine with gentle, yet firm pressure, next moving to his shoulder blades and lower back. 

At last, her embrace became tighter around him, assuring Tommy's silent cry it was okay to come out, if it wasn't for the movement of his back and the tears wetting her clothes, she wouldn't believe such simple words had that effect on him. The truth was, Tommy was much more fragile than he let show. 

"It's alright, let it out," she soothed, petting the shaven back of his head, "I got you,"

Five, ten, twenty minutes passed and Tommy started to try controlling his breath, he knew that if he fully let himself go his cry would become compulsive, the tears would run down without control and turn an intimate moment into a humiliating one.

Slowly, he breathed in and out, laying his head on her shoulder. She tried to look him in the eyes, but Tommy quickly hid his face on her neck, he'd hate to be seen with teary eyes and wet cheeks.

He held onto her clothes tightly, at the same time her scent calmed him down, the gentleness she offered made him want to cry again.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I'm fucking sorry,"

"It's alright, love, don't apologize," guiding him to bed, she held him in her arms.

Running a hand through his hair, Y/N respected his wish to hide, the bridge of his nose fitted on her neck as his wet eyelashes brushed on her skin. His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash. 

Eventually, Tommy's eyelids got heavy, her warmth relaxed his tired muscles and he felt safe enough to let the worries slip away. He fell asleep with his head on her shoulder.

Realizing he was asleep, Y/N took the opportunity of doing the same, in the last few months sleeping near him had become a rare occurrence. 

Hours went by, enough for the wind gusts to dissipate and a storm to form. The heavy, gray clouds covered the moon in the dark sky, releasing thick rain drops that hit the window with brutal force. 

The noise woke Tommy up, he lifted his head to see his wife in deep slumber, he didn't know how much time passed, but he felt less tired, it had been a long time since he took a nap without waking up from time to time. 

Peeking at the clock at the bed table, he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, four in the morning wasn't exactly a proper hour to wake up, especially if he had slept past midnight.

A sleepy noise from Y/N captured his focus again, his eyes wandered to the drawer in which he kept his opium bottle and he quickly came back at her. Finally, he decided to not disturb her sleep, well aware he probably wouldn't fall asleep again, Tommy snuggled to her and closed his eyes. He wouldn't say it back, but she was also his basis. 

[bidisasterevankinard]

so hard to choose from all these wips but pls gimme some of:

🔄🔄🔄

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

📝📝📝📝📝

👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳

yeah months after but I finally got toanswer it (I'm sorry <333)

9 from 7x4 reverse with Sal:

“So, how was football?” Tommy aims for feigned disinterest, missing some lightness in tone for it to be believable, but Sal just drugs and smiles.

“It was fine. Kid got us good tickets. And it was cool to watch the game with someone who doesn’t moan every second about how bored he is.”

“Hey, I don’t moan!”

“Yeah, you're right. You whine like a baby who wants cuddles from their mama.”

“I don’t whine,” whines Tommy and on Sal’s smirk and a raised eyebrow answers with silence, changing the tactic.

9+ for break up and make up after 7s au:

“And then Sal …” when Evan says the name it’s like the lever inside his mind is yanked down and his brain is off. Evan’s voice is around him but he hears nothing. It’s like the headphones are put on him and he can make some outside noise, but not enough to actually comprehend anything. He just sits there, passing his food, not in the mood to eat. His stomach feels too easy to make sick.

“..my! Tommy!” the louder when before voice and the touch of his shoulder makes him jump in his seat and Evan takes his hand away. “Sorry, you just weren't answering me and I asked if you wanted to come to my place or you wanted me to come to yours as you seem pretty tired,” Evan smirks, but his usual playfulness and Tommy tries to answer but big blue eyes go sadder.

He guesses he didn’t fool Evan.

“Sorry, Evan, I’m really tired and have a headache. Want to be alone. If it’s ok?”

15 for Justin knows best:

“From what I saw he was,” Mr. Russo’s voice answers, “he was almost eye fucking you during renovations.”

“I’m sure he did it not to me, but to Eddie. Or should I remind you that it’s him he took to Vegas and I’ve got only one Harbor tour that I asked about.”

Justin nods to sadness in Mr.B voice feeling the anger on his uncle and Mr.Diaz getting higher. They broke his perfect plan and made Mr. B sad.

“First, Eddie was on the other side of the room and those big blue eyes were still taking off your tank top and shorts. Second, I remember about Vegas. You were mopping about it a lot recently,” Mr. Russo listed. “Maybe it was just a friendly fly? I mean they watched a fight together. If you ask me I’d fight a guy who takes me to a fight as a first date because I hate it. And you too.”

“Yeah, I thought it too,” Mr. says and then he somehow gets sadder, “but it wasn’t only Vegas. They also worked over Eddie’s Chavele. And yesterday they went to Karaoke trivia together. And Eddie asked me to babysit,” Mr. B whines the last sentence and Justin sees red. 

and 15 for second part on I wanna dance with you universe

“What is it?” Evan asks and Tommy shrugs, giving him a playful look, and waits for him to open the box, loving the laugh Evan makes when he reads the custom inscription.

Still laughing, Evan takes the bright pink apron out and turns it so that Tommy can read it, bold black lettering makes him smirk again.

He’s my favorite housewife

“So you want me as your housewife?” Evan asks.

“Do you like it,” Tommy ignores the question.

“I like the color and the title but only if it’s a joke. Because if it’s not, it's like a huge red flag and I’m gonna run from here right now.”

Tommy hugs the perfect waist, kissing the neck, loving the shiver that goes over Evan’s body, “just a joke, baby of course. And now as far as I remember,” Tommy nuzzles into Evan's neck, biting it, “I was promised that if I'll buy you apron you love, I can fuck you in it. Only in it,” Tommy whispers in Evan’s ear and  bites the skin right near it.

“I-I did say it, didn’t I?” Evan puts his hand in his hair pushing his head till their lips meet.

Using his body weight Tommy pushes his boyfriend till he’s near the counter and then sits him there, not breaking the kiss, with pleasure swallowing the moan Evan makes.

Ending the kiss Tommy gets back to working on Evan’s neck, while his boyfriend unbuttons his shirt.

[ikilledyvette]

(Part II of my seriously condensed 9-1-1 fic is here! Hope people enjoy, even though it's all a bit rushed!)

Part I

Sunday afternoon, Father’s Day. It’s always a hard day for Bobby, but usually, working helps him get through it. Today has been ... worse, and not just for him. Bobby finds Eddie on the couch, staring blankly into nothing. Bobby sits down beside him, a silent invitation to talk. Eddie doesn’t always take him up on it.

Today, Eddie says, “He hasn’t called,” and Bobby reminds him the day isn’t over yet. Eddie asks, “What if he doesn’t call?” and Bobby reminds him about tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. 

“Every day you’re both alive is another chance to make things right,” Bobby says. “Don’t give up on tomorrow just yet, Eddie.”

Buck comes by then, and Eddie takes off to give the two some space. Buck says, “So, I had dinner with my parents the other night.” Bobby asks how it went, and Buck says, “Yeah, not great. They had, uh. A lot to say about me, you know. Going through a gay phase, or something. Wanting attention. Getting too old for, I don’t know. Making stuff up, I guess.”

Bobby nods. Cautiously, he says, “Sounds to me like they still don’t know you very well.”

Buck huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Thing is, everything they said ... it’s all stuff I’ve thought too, you know? Like, I’ve always done stupid things to get people’s attention. Their attention, Tommy’s. Yours. And if ... if what I’m feeling, who I am, is ... is real ... how could I have not known before, right? And I, I do know how I feel about Tommy—I like him so much, Bobby, you don’t even know—”

Bobby knows. Everyone knows. Buck’s joy is not subtle; it shines through him, a thing to behold.

“—but sometimes I still—” Buck breaks off and sighs. “Well, maybe that’s why I reacted so badly last night. Cause sometimes, I worry they’re right.”

“They’re not,” Bobby says immediately.

“How do you know that?”

And Bobby hesitates, not sure Buck is going to want to hear this right now. But still, he says, “Because I know you, kid.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, smiling a little. “You do. Bobby, I’m. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do. Cause that night we talked about Tommy? You didn’t ask me to, to explain myself, or suggest maybe I wasn’t thinking things through. You didn’t need me to prove anything. You just accepted it, Tommy and me. You accepted me.” Buck shakes his head. “I told this to Maddie once, but sometimes it’s easier to lash out at the person you know is always going to forgive you. My parents, that’s not them, never will be. But you, uh. You’re safe.”

Bobby swallows a little at that. He wants to be that person for Buck—but Bobby know he isn’t, can’t be. He’s the reason his family is dead; he’s the reason so many people are dead. 

“I know I hurt you,” Bobby says. “If I hadn’t left the way I did, Gerrard would never have been captain, and—”

“You think this is about Gerrard? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought.” But Buck’s voice is teasing, lessening the sting. “Yeah, I mean, working under Gerrard was ... rough, for a lot reasons. But that’s not ... Hen was the one mad at you for that.”

Bobby is aware. Hen had forgiven him pretty quickly, but her attitude towards Bobby on his first day back had been ... cool, to say the least. Bobby understands why, had prepared himself for Hen’s anger, potentially Chimney’s, too. They both went through a lot, working under Gerrard the first time around. Bobby had expected them to be upset.

He’s not sure why he hadn’t expected Buck to be.

“I’m not mad about Gerrard,” Buck tells him. “I’m mad that you lied. You—you were saying goodbye all day, only we didn’t know, I didn’t know. And you just—you were just going to leave?”

“I didn’t want—”

“You didn’t want us to change your mind,” Buck says, now visibly upset. “You—you said goodbye, Bobby. I didn’t realize it then, what you were doing, but—if you were gone, if you left, and I could have done something to stop it, stop you from, from—"

And Bobby realizes suddenly that Buck isn’t just talking about Bobby quitting.

“Hey,” Bobby says. “Listen. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“For how long?” Buck asks, and it’s not mockery this time. It’s pleading. Anxious. Young. For as much Buck has been through, for as much progress he’s made over the last seven years, Bobby is struck every now and then by how young Buck still is.

“That’s not up to me,” Bobby says and points up, skyward, at the man upstairs. “And listen, Buck, I won’t deny I was ... I was in a pretty dark place a couple of months ago. I should’ve been more honest about that. But I’m here, and I mean to stay here as long as I can. Okay? I’m not going anywhere without a fight, I promise.”

Buck inhales, a deep, shuddery breath, and Bobby hugs him, and Buck hugs Bobby back. 

“I’m sorry,” Buck says again. “I think, maybe. I think I’ve just been really scared.”

Bobby hugs him a little tighter and says, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, kid.”

Footsteps on the stairs interrupt them a few minutes later. “Not to break up this long overdue moment,” Chimney says, “but Buck, you’ve got another visitor.”

Buck turns with a little dread, expecting his parents and not sure he’s ready to face them just yet—but it’s Maddie. This time, it’s Bobby and Chimney who disappear downstairs to give the Buckley siblings some space.

Maddie tells Buck that their parents are flying home. “I told them to go,” she says. “And not to come back.”

“Chimney told you,” Buck realizes, resigned and more than a little annoyed.

“Of course, he did,” Maddie says. She’s slightly exasperated but mostly worried. “Why didn’t you?” 

She thinks he’ll say something about not wanting to ruin Maddie’s relationship with their parents or Jee Yun’s relationships with her grandparents, and Buck does lead with that. But mostly, Buck’s ashamed of how he petty it was, bringing up Daniel. “I didn’t want you to think that I, I resented him,” he says. “I really don’t, Maddie. He was just a kid, and he never got the chance to grow up and, and I wish I could’ve given him that chance. I wish I could’ve met the person he would’ve become.”

“I know,” Maddie tells him, and reminds him that it’s not his fault; it was never his responsibility to save Daniel. Buck says he doesn’t blame their mom for slapping him after what he said, and Maddie, steely, says, “Well, I do. For that, and also for how they talked to you—no, it’s not okay. What if Jee grows up and realizes she likes both boys and girls someday? I don't want Mom talking to her like that. Do you?"

Buck recoils a little, and Maddie nods. “Would you be okay if Mom ever hit Jee Yun?” she asks. “Even if she said something terrible? Even if she deserved it?”

“She could never deserve it,” Buck says, knowing what Maddie’s doing but unable to keep quiet, not when his sister looks so upset, not with the ghost of Doug so heavy in the air. He hates to think of how many times Doug must have told Maddie that she was to blame for everything he did to her. “But Maddie, I don’t think Mom or Dad would ever—”

“Maybe not,” Maddie says, “but that doesn’t make them safe. They screw up, and they always feel bad about it, but they never really apologize. They never put in the work. They just ... make excuses and expect that we’ll forgive them, but I think I’m done with that now. I’m done with relationships where it’s only my responsibility to try harder, to smooth things over, to say the right thing, to always forgive. Maybe someday, if Mom and Dad actually work on themselves, but for right now ..." Maddie shakes her head. "Enough is enough.”

Buck gets that, he does. But he admits he isn’t sure he’s ready to cut off his parents yet, isn’t sure he wants too. He still wants to keep trying, and Maddie says that’s okay. What matters is, they still have each other. And she won’t try to change his mind if he doesn’t try to change hers.

Buck offers her a pinky swear. Maddie smiles and hooks her finger around his.

*

Meanwhile, downstairs, a phone rings.

“Christopher?” Eddie says, and takes a few steps, turning away from everyone. 

It is Christopher. He calls to wish his dad a happy Father’s Day, but also to say he loves him, and while he’s not quite ready to come home yet, he still wants to come home, and maybe soon.

“I miss you,” Christopher tells him. “I don’t want to miss you anymore. But you have to stop lying to me.”

“I can do that,” Eddie promises.

“And go back to therapy.”

Eddie laughs. “Already on top of that one, bud. Maybe ... we could go together, sometime, when you come home?”

“Yeah,” Christopher says. “I’d like that. I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Chris,” Eddie says. He hangs up, takes a breath before turning around, and announces, “Christopher called!" as if everyone—including Maddie and Buck, leaning over the balcony—weren’t badly pretending not to eavesdrop.

Everyone cheers and rushes Eddie. 

“What did I tell you?” Bobby asks him. “What did I tell you?” Hen asks, too, and Eddie says, “Yeah, yeah,” to both of them, with wet eyes and a shaky, hopeful smile.

“This calls for champagne!” Chimney announces. “But since we’re all on duty ... cheap coffee and leftover Ding Dong, Gerrard is Gone cake it is!”

—All in all, it’s the best Father’s Day the 118 has had in a long, long time. 

(And that's it! Apologies, fellow Tommy fans, that he didn’t make it into Part 2—but you know. If Tommy’s at the fire house, who’s flying the plane? Actually, Tommy’s too busy babysitting Jee Yun, and—to both Buck and Chimney’s horror—introducing her to all the worst Star Wars movies. She loves them.)

Tag List @lavenderleahy @v88sy

[watermelongirl01]

The Boy

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Criminal Minds x Supernatural

Summary: A new case appears and Hotch and Jack ask for your help.

Content Warning: Violence, Homicide Talk, Ghosts.

Note: So, I had a little delay cause I usually write at midnight, but with the whole ghost thing I scared myself JAJAJ so I had to stop and watch funny videos and then do it all over again, but I hope you like it.

It was at 2:00 am when Hotch heard a door squeak, it took a couple of minutes for him to realize it was from Jack’s room, and he immediately jumped out of his bed, ran to the door as fast as his legs let him, he left his room ready to get in between of any danger and his son. Hotch frowned in confusion when he met with two boys playing in his living room, or that’s what he thought because only Jack was there when he approached.

“Jack, to bed now.” Hotch said exasperated. 

This wasn't the first time Jack got out of bed at midnight just to play with his toys, which caused many scoldings for Jack, not just from his father, but also in school for falling asleep in class, this was becoming a routine, and for the fourth time in two weeks, Jack had the same excuse.

“It was his idea, I swear.” Hotch squeezed the bridge of his nose.

Jack had recently acquired an imaginary friend named Tommy, he would make him wake up in the middle of the night just to play, or sometimes stay at home instead of going to soccer practice, even if that was Jack's favorite thing to do. The change alerted Hotch, so he quickly took his son to the little boy's therapist. She said it was a common phase for a child like Jack and would end in a matter of time, But it was starting to mess with both father and son´s sleeping schedule. 

“This has to end Jack, we both need to rest.” Hotch took his son´s hand to walk him to bed, but Jack quickly left his side to grab his new favorite stuffed animal. 

He never left the house without it, and at this point, Hotch didn’t even remember ever buying said toy, but Jack insisted the toy was a gift for him from a garage sale they went to.

The next morning was a handful for Hotch, Jack didn't want to go to school, and many cries were invading The Hotchner’s residence, Jack didn't eat a single bite and as a consequence, Hotch didn't either. Father and son were wrapped in an argument when suddenly a glass of orange juice was thrown against the wall next to Hotch’s head causing a small cut on the right side of his face, both were surprised, but fear invaded Hotch when the temperature in the kitchen dropped enough to see his warm breath coming out as small trails of smoke, He knew what that meant, you taught him enough.

“Jack…”

“Tommy doesn´t like grown-ups, he said they all should die.” That sentence left Hotch frozen, he needed you right now.

“Jack, I need you to get into the car, we are going with Aunt Jessica.” The child stayed silent for a while, analyzing the possibility, but nodded and grabbed his toy to tag along with his frantic father.

Hotch let Jessica know it was an emergency and left in a hurry to get to the FBI building hoping to arrive fast enough before your monthly meeting with the FBI director, and he managed to catch you at the door of your office.

“Hey there early bird!” You smiled at the view of Hotch, but the same smile faded when you noticed his demeanor. “Are you okay?”

“I think there’s a ghost at my house.” Your eyes widened. “I need your help.”

“What!?” You squealed, attracting the attention of a few agents, you excused yourself from them and took Hotch’s arm to get him into your office and sit him on your little couch. “Are you sure?”

You didn't give it a second thought and canceled all your meetings, allowing Hotch to take all the time he needed to explain to you all he had experienced recently, from the imaginary friend and the sudden behavior changes in Jack to the morning incident.  

“So, cold spots, imaginary friends, how long has this been going on?”

“Around two weeks.” Hotch answered. “Is Jack in danger?”

“Well, I'm going to take a guess, and say that you are in more danger than he is.” You said while pointing at his wound. “But let's not jump to conclusions that fast. First, it is really weird that this is just happening now and not when you first moved in.”

“You think my apartment is haunted?”

“No, not necessarily, have you bought something weird or old recently?”

Hotch just shrunk his shoulders. “I can’t remember, Would you take a look for me?”

“Sure.”

“Let me drive you to my house then.”

And if this wouldn't be a risky situation you would’ve absolutely made a joke about it.

Hotch drove you to his house, you could tell he was worried, he wouldn’t stop asking questions about ghosts every five minutes, and then stay silent for another five. Which was a pretty good reaction for his first time dealing with supernatural things, and being honest it was way better than your first time.

When arriving at Hotch's home, only five words couldn’t stop repeating in your head; “Please don’t be a poltergeist, Please don’t be a poltergeist.” Now, someone might think that after being a hunter for almost your whole life, you can’t dislike dealing with some types of creatures, but the truth is that you do, there’s nothing you hate more than hunting spirits and all that bullshit of “Just a salt and burn” Cause it’s never just a salt and burn. The Winchesters and your father think you are still afraid of them and they might be right, but you are never going to admit it, and you are for sure never sharing this information with Hotch.

“Alright, I'm just going to need around 20 minutes in your house to register everything.” You said while getting a big duffel bag out of your trunk.

“You are going to need all of that?”

“Yep.”

“And I'm just supposed to let you alone in a house where there's probably a dangerous ghost?”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve dealt with a lot of spirits, Hotch.”

LIES

“I know you are an expert, just humor me and let me come with you.” You sighted.

Let’s not get this wrong, there’s nothing bad with having a protective, hot, brave, with his beefy arms and broad shoulders Hotchner, beside you. But after your little stabby accident, Hotch is a little bit overprotective. And you are afraid he doesn’t trust you anymore, you thought this was your chance to prove yourself again, but it seems like it’s just the same.

Although this was his house and his rules, so you decided to let him come with you to guide you through the house.

When both of you got inside his home you handed him an iron rod, while you took your shotgun filled with salt munitions.

He looked at you expectantly. “I left my other shotgun at my house, sorry. But if you see a ghost just hit it with it.” You gave him a thumbs-up while you took out a device.

“What 's that?” He asked 

“An EMF meter, it’s going to beep if there’s a ghost here.” 

“You think it could be a friendly ghost?” 

The question made you grimace. “There’s a chance, I guess.”

“How high? And please be honest, I can tell you’re holding back on me.” He looked at you.

“Fine, not high enough.” Even if his face didn’t tell on him, you could tell he was concerned. “But there’s lots of kinds of spirits.”

Hotch and you managed to register the whole apartment twice, but the EMF didn’t read any frequency, and right now you were searching in Hotch’s room for the third time.

“Nope.” You said while sitting on his bed. “Nothing.”

“Maybe we missed something.”

“Even if we did, I don’t think it is in the apartment at the moment.” Hotch frowned with confusion. “You see, some spirits can also haunt objects.” 

“You’re telling me the ghost could be with my son, right now?” You nodded with a look of sorrow on your face. “I need to make a call.”

You stayed still in his bed while swinging your legs waiting for him.

“Well, this certainly wasn’t the way I thought I would end up on his bed.”  You said to yourself.

After a quick call with Jessica who assured Jack was doing okay and not talking alone, Hotch returned with a defeated look.

“Is there a chance I was wrong?” He said distracted by the swinging of your legs.

“I don’t think so, those sons of bitches are sneaky.” He took a glimpse of your face and then sat next to you. “Let me tell you what, is there a way you and Jack can be out for a while and leave the apartment alone for a day or two?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, c’mon Hotch, I know you have free days accumulated, and the bureau wants you to take them as soon as possible.”

“I just don’t want to leave alone with all of that.”

“Aaron, I need you to leave this apartment, take your child, and take nothing but your cell phone for when I tell you I banished that spirit to the beyond, are we clear?”

“Did you just call me Aaron?”

“And you liked it, focus. Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you liked it? Or yes we are clear?” He smiled a little and started stuffing clothes in a suitcase. 

After spending more than half of the day planning a trip for them, Jessica dropped Jack who was pleasantly surprised by their sudden trip, the kid tossed all his things on the floor and hugged everyone in the room, including you. 

Everything went so fast that Jack didn’t realize he had left his backpack on the sofa after leaving the house so quickly. You saw how a little teddy bear was almost falling to the floor, your instinct was to grab it to get it on the blue, eye-catching backpack again, but you didn’t count on being thrown to the wall and then hit the ground with abruptness while your EMF meter started to beep nonstop.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You said feeling your side hurt. “It’s just a kid.”

You helped yourself up by grabbing the knob of the principal door, twisted it to open the door, and got out of the apartment while crawling to the hallway wall and rested there, trying to see the damage in your skin.

“Fucking ghosts.” You said at the sight of your bruised torso.

A ringing phone distracted you from the pain and you immediately answered when you saw who was calling.

“Hey, sorry to bother but Jack left his backpack and he can’t sleep without his favorite stuffed animal. Would you help me get it  before we leave town?” Hotch’s voice filled your ears.

“Let me guess, a teddy bear.”

“Yes, you saw it? We are driving home.”

“Well hit reverse or get a new toy, because that freakin teddy bear threw me into the air.”

“What?!” he said. “Are you okay? You want me to come back?” 

“No no, I got this, trust me.” You said before hanging up on him.

Now analyzing your situation, you had an angry ghost, who was ready to kill you, a broken rib, and fear to face, cause you can handle spirits and children but individually, and right now you had two for one.

You went into the contacts in your phone, till you found the one you wanted.

“Hello.” A raspy voice answered.

“Oh, Hi De! Just out of curiosity, Are you guys close?”

“Hey, how did you know?” You moved your arms and celebrated in silence. “Cincinnati.”

“I think I prayed too hard.” 

“What 's wrong?”

“You see, I have an emergency, and I kinda left my equipment inside the house with the emergency and I have a freaking shattered rib, I can’t even walk.”

“We can be there in a couple of hours.” 

“Thank you, thank you!” You squeaked in happiness.

You might’ve overreacted and exaggerated the severity of your injuries, but it was a must. You had developed this strategy when you were eight and you were too scared of killing a spider. It consisted of dramatizing the scenario and asking Dean or Sam for help so they would kill it for you, even if you had to say that the arachnid was the size of a frog and tried to chase you down to bite you.

You waited sitting in the lobby for a long time until you heard the unique sound of the Impala’s engine, you stood up in a jump and ran down the stairs to get to the Winchesters. Whose doors were opening to leave the car and wrap you in a warm hug.

You could feel Dean eyeing you with a lifted eyebrow and a mocking smile “I thought you could barely walk.” 

“It’s a miracle!” 

He crossed his arms. “Spoiled brat.”

“Sucker.” He smiled and shook his head.

“Glad to see you are okay.” Sam said with a compassionate smile.

You could tell he still felt bad about the Gordon situation and how he hurt you to get information about Sam.

“Glad to see you’re talking again.”

“I just felt bad, I didn’t know if you were mad at me.”

“Well if you’d only talked to me, you would’ve known.” You said caressing his arm. “I already have enough emotionally repressed men in my life, and one of them is a Winchester, don’t make it two.” 

Dean frowned, annoyed. “Well, let me guess, Spirits?” He smiled.

And you wanted nothing more than to erase that stupid smug smile on his face, but you told the brothers the whole story and the ghost problem, which caused a burst of laughter for Dean and Sam trying to hide his laugh with his fake coughing.

“Are you done?”

“Okay, let me get this straight, you say yes to a salt and burn for your boyfriend, which is already shocking enough cause you are scared of ghosts but then you get the kind of spirit you fear the most?” 

“First, he’s not my boyfriend. Two, I’m not scared of ghosts, I just don’t like them, Dean.”

“Just don’t buy a lottery ticket this week, I don’t think it’s worth it.” 

“Fuck off.”

“Okay.” Sam interrupted. “Let’s just do some research, Do you think it’s vengeful spirit?”

“Probably, I mean is a kid, and it’s been a while since Virginia had any pattern of weird deaths.” 

“You have a name?”

“Tommy.”

“There’s no need for research, we know to which object is connected, let’s just get in fast, take the Teddy bear, and burn it.” Dean stated. “Easy.”

After gathering up their guns, the Winchester and you decided to go for the easy way and got the plan in motion, as you entered the apartment you could notice the change of temperature and the stuffed animal on the couch. You frowned.

“That wasn’t there before.”

The three of you kept pointing your guns at every corner of the room, but nothing showed up. Dean decided to take the lead and ran to grab the Teddy bear, but there wasn’t any luck because he got thrown away by an invisible force. You and Sam stayed alert with your guns up, but there wasn’t anything to shoot at, your eyes connected with his and he gave you a subtle nod, both of you ran at the same time trying to cover the other but once again the ghost didn’t make its presence known and both end up pushed away and suffocated against the wall.

None of you could reach the toy because every time one of you tried it, you would end up crashing into something, the tries stopped when Dean managed to run faster and Sam started to desperately grasp for air. So the three of you decided to leave the apartment to return the next day with more answers. 

~~~

The brothers and you were sitting in your living room eating breakfast while you were researching on your FBI account any files that could help you in the case.

“Nothing.” You sighed with frustration.

Sammy looked at you with his puppy eyes and extended his hand to you asking for your laptop. “Let me try.”

You gave him your side eye but surrended and handed it to him. “No hacking my account for your personal use.” You warned.

“You don’t have to work?” Dean asked while stuffing his mouth with the last piece of bacon.

“I called in sick.” 

“And they believed you?”

“Well, of course.”

“Because you are sleeping with the boss.”

“I’m not!” 

“But you want to.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I have something.” Sam interrupted, stealing the attention. “Five years ago a family was killed by their father who apparently killed himself later.”

“Apparently?” You asked.

Sam nodded. “The forensics found defensive wounds on him.” 

You and Dean frowned. “So, who did it?”

“They never found any other evidence or lead in the case, but there is this photo.” Sam turned the laptop showing on the screen a photo of a family and in the center a child holding a teddy bear.

“That’s Tommy?” 

“No, that’s Adam, but get this, ten years ago, this family in Virginia had a kid who was admitted to the psychiatric hospital, they claimed the kid was evil and violent, and later on, the doctor told the family to take him back because he represented no harm, but after two months the whole family die killed by the dad.” Sam looked at you and showed another picture. “That’s Tommy, he died with a knife in his hand but the police found that hard to believe and determined that the father did it.”

“Fuck.”

“He’s no vengeful ghost.” 

—-

After a couple of hours getting anything necessary for the hunt, you and the boys arrived at Hotch’s apartment with a new plan and ready to finish the hunt and once again the temperature dropped.

“Tommy, we know what you are.” You said with a strong voice but trembling legs while the Winchesters made a circle of salt around you.

A loud and distorted “NO” echoed in the room, you nodded at the boys when they stepped out of the salt circle and ran to get the object connected to the ghost when they finally pissed the spirit enough, the lights started to flicker and a little figure appeared tossing them into a wall.

“Sorry, but I’m not going to let you harm this family, Tommy.” You pulled the trigger and the figure disappeared for a moment but reappeared right in front of you, you shot one more time. Meanwhile, you and Sam distracted the ghost, Dean finally got the teddy bear in his hands to set him on fire and you watched the little figure disappear between red and orange flames.

—-

 You decided to call Hotch the next day, you could have done it the second the Winchesters left town, but you know that the moment you called him, he was going to go directly to work and the truth was that He and Jack needed those days.

So when he arrived home, you decided to pay him a visit after work and ask him to meet you in the hallway.

The moment he saw you he smiled and got close to give you a warm hug full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s always a pleasure to help.” You smiled back. “But I came to give you back this.” You place the keys in his hand. “And to give you this for Jack, you know, to compensate the one I had to burn.”  

Hotch smiled while grabbing the stuffed animal. “You are lovely.” 

You blushed. “I also thought about getting you a vacuum, you know, for all the amount of salt that will keep coming out of your carpet, but Jack's feelings seemed more important.” 

He let a chuckle come out of his mouth. “I also heard you finished with that ghost yesterday and not today like you said.” 

You looked at him surprised. “How did you know?”

“A little bird told me.” You squeezed your eyes at him.

“David? More like a crow.” You sighed. “I thought you needed more time away with Jack.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Thank you, love.” Your heart skipped a bit with the pet name, but you just smiled.

“It’s nothing.” He looked down at his hands for a moment but then looked back at you.

“Do you want to stay for dinner? We ordered pizza and I’m sure Jack will love to get this from you.” He placed the stuffed animal back in your hands.

“I would love to.” You said and followed him to get inside his house.

You were a little nervous, your mind made up a million scenarios where Jack didn’t like you because you burned his favorite toy, but it was just the opposite. At the end of the dinner when Aaron stepped aside to clean a little, Jack approached you hugging his new stuffed animal.

“Thank you.” He said to you.

“Oh, I just thought you would love it.”

“No, you saved us, thank you.” He hugged you tight.

You blinked a couple of times letting the information sink in and immediately hugged the kid back. “I will always help you and your dad.”

At the end, Aaron walked you to your car and thanked you for the thousandth time in the night.

“It was nothing, Hotch, I’m just glad I was able to help.”

He shook his head. “It was everything, you did save us.” You frowned 

“You heard?” He nodded. “But also thank you for trusting me with this.” You smiled.

Hotch got closer and hugged you one more time, and then left a kiss on your forehead as a goodbye. 

[outrunningthedark]

I think what all the "well, Oliver can´t win" people refuse to acknowldge is the fact that the problem here is not Oliver´s being silent on SM- because he most definetly is not. If he would go comepletely silent people would probably applaud him. But he takes care to put out something Eddie, Ryan or Buddie related quite regularly and everytime someone points this out you have a bunch of people on here rushing out the "well, Buddie are friends! it´s not his problem people read into it" defence. Ok? And Buck and Tommy are dating so were are those posts? How BoBs interpret his posts is not the issue here. The issue is that a lot of people get the feeling that Oliver seems extremly concerend with not offending a certain subset of this fandom after talking a great deal right after the kiss episode aired. And his efforts to not rock the boat don´t include just not posting Buck/Tommy stuff but actively going the other direction sometimes and throwing Buddie stuff out there. I don´t understand why people aren´t allowed to side eye this behaviour?

I think the people within our own side of fandom (I’m not trying to be disrespectful. I just don’t agree.) who are making excuses for what Oliver does are trying to go out of their way not to act like Buddies or in a way that can be compared to Buddies, tbh.

I mean, we see what happens every time someone tries to make a “both sides are bad” argument - they’re comparing sending death threats with posting a screenshot because “Tim mentioned both” or BuckTommy shippers being called racial and homophobic slurs with “BoBs” (which just means people who won’t accept anything but Buddie).

So if you’re 100% in Oliver’s corner on your page? Regardless of how you may feel in private? Well then you’re not part of the problem.

Maybe it’s the fact that I remember life before social media blew up. Maybe it’s because I most definitely got exposed to shitty behavior directed at me very early in life because of my circumstances and not because I got famous.

But I have very little patience for a grown ass man in his position letting teenagers get to him.

He chooses to be on social media. He chooses to operate his own account (apparently).

Don’t make a big deal about playing a queer character (for the second time, mind you; there was an incident pre-s7 where he told a homophobic fan he’d be proud to play a gay character) if you weren’t gonna be able to handle whatever negativity you KNEW was coming your way.

You know what Tim did when the social media stuff got too toxic? He stopped looking at it. Maybe Oliver should use that whole social media manager thing to his advantage while he has it 😉

[rosetterer]

[disastersareajoy]

Pussy Drunk Thomas Hewitt - Drabble

Thomas Hewitt x FEM!Reader

Tags: established relationship, cunnilingus, forced orgasms, talk of bruises, wet and messy, squirting, dacryphilia, overstimulation

Word count: 1.1k

fucking obsessed with the idea of Thomas getting absolutely, down bad, pussy-drunk as soon as he gets a taste

like his virgin-ass being too afraid of hurting you to fuck you at first and getting on his knees for you. he gets a taste, kind of pulls back and licks his lips and you can see his pupils dilate and his eyes fucking glaze over and he just falls face first into your pussy

sloppy, wet, spit slick, hungry oral from that man. his teeth bump into you in all the right ways sometimes. one moment he's whimpering into you and the next he's grumbling and trying to get his tongue deeper and deeper into you to taste more

and it does not matter to him when you beg for him to slow down and how you can't cum anymore. because you keep dripping on his face and tongue and making wonderful noises and you just taste so fucking good, how could he stop??

his arms wrap around your thighs and he holds onto them hard and firm and keeps you pulled close to his face. you can feel that it's gonna bruise and you're going to cherish those bruises for days

he doesn't even notice how hard he's gripping you because he's trying to get all of his senses filled with you. he tastes, smells and feels nothing but you. the only thing his ears can focus on are your moans and whimpers. his hands massage your thighs periodically and when he opens his eyes it's just to look at your face, thrown back in pleasure. the only thing better is when you're looking down at him with tears in your eyes, still moaning for him

Tommy is completely drunk off your taste. he loves the feeling of your pussy on his tongue and he loves the little whining groan you let out when he sucks on your clit

now, when he keeps going and going and your hand in his hair trying to push him away finally falls to your side, he doesn't even realize what he's doing next. it's all out of instinct when his hands readjust so his arms stay wrapped around your thighs but his thumbs are spreading open your folds. that's when he really loses it

because he can get his tongue even deeper like that. he can bury it inside you and find the spot that makes you drip a little more and that makes you moan all broken and needy. once he finds it he abuses the fuck out of it. keeps licking over it, poking at it with his tongue and savoring every drop of you that spills into his mouth

and then. his holy grail. you grab his hair again and moan louder. you're sobbing and begging him to slow down because it feels different this time. he doesn't listen of course. all he knows is you're about to do that thing again where he can feel your pussy flutter and twitch and your thighs squeeze around him and your moans get all whimpery

he keeps going until your hips lift up into him. he stays attached to your pussy and keeps doing what he's doing, knowing he can't stop. needs to keep going to get you to do that thing

suddenly you gasp and go completely quiet. then you moan so loud it's almost a scream. a sobbing sort of thing that's absolutely gorgeous to him. on top of that your hips start wildly shaking along with your legs and your pleasure starts gushing out of you

Tommy moans into your juices and gets closer if that's even possible at that point. he shakes his head so he rubs over your clit side to side while he keeps his tongue abusing that spot inside you. and fuck does he get drenched. he swallows down as much as he can of you and whimpers into it. anything he can't get, drips down his face and drenches his shirt and lap

once you come down you realize he's still going and you can't handle it anymore. you start crying more and weakly kicking your legs out which finally makes Tommy look up. he sees your devastated face and while he thinks the sweat mixed with tears and drool, as well as the tortured pleasure in your eyes is a heavenly sight, he listens to your weak pleas

he finally pulls away and you sigh in relief. Tommy stays away from your pussy (as much as he hates it) and spends his time licking your thighs clean. just a minute away from your pussy makes him whimper and look up at you pleadingly. your legs are still shaking and you shake your head at him

so Tommy whines and starts biting your thighs instead, getting closer and closer to your pussy until he's mouthing right next to it. you're shaking and sweating and still losing a coupe tears when he licks flat over your clit once. then your back arches and you gasp, trying not to make too loud a noise

you know if you moan he's gonna start again and you think he might actually kill you that time. he softly licks over your clit again, wraps his lips around it and you slap a hand over your mouth. but Tommy sees your lack of noise as a sign to keep going and starts sucking on your clit. when his teeth graze over it your hand whips away from your mouth to his hair and you yell out a moan that ends with a broken whine

immediately you know you're in for it. Tommy moans happily and grabs your thighs hard once more. he dives into you again and gets back to his sloppy, needy and enthusiastic pace without hesitation. all you can do is moan, whimper and whine as Tommy makes you see stars over and over again

he's obsessed with making you squirt on his face and listening to your whimpers as he tastes you. he loves the feeling of your heartbeat in your clit, pounding against his tongue

sometimes you can't get him off of your pussy until he's had at least a couple hours of his way with you. he's obsessed with your pussy and a single taste makes him entirely lose his mind. he'd do anything to fall to his knees in front of you

he would spend forever between your thighs if it was up to him

your pussy is his paradise and his salvation. every gush of your juices is a baptism of wonder. you are his goddess and he worships you at every turn

[gooptroupe]

ctommy loves 'ggots!

[kiinard]

heart eyes fully activated

[bugflies00]

two years later, somewhere in utah

[sophsun1]

+ bonus:

#it's giving "this new boy I met is kinda cool yet he won't pay attention to me, but whatever I don't care, I don't even like him anyway, he's a loser"

[aainiouu]