#oven's actually been busted for a while

[queen-scribbles]

MINT

Yes, excellent, I found a couple mint chocolate chip cookie recipes I'd love to try 😇 and who doesn't love cookies

We'll just have to do it somewhere other than my house. Our regular-oven is busted and it would take forever to bake them in the toaster oven :P

#queen rambles #oven's actually been busted for a while #fortunately there's just three of us at the house now #so we can in fact cook dinner--like salmon or meatloaf type stuff--in the toaster oven and it works #the part to fix the regular oven is crazy $$$ right now :'D

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Living with Luca Headcanons

Warnings: Mildly suggestive, references to violence, period-typical sexism.

Angst and Fluff ahead.

Domestic Hcs

Luca Changretta is a man of simple, yet refined, taste. He keeps a fine house for you, nothing too showy but comfortable and far from the poverty he grew up in. He will spare no expense at keeping you happy in his home, you only need to ask. If you want a garden, he’ll pay to build a greenhouse so you can tend to your beauties year-round. If you like to bake, he’ll pay for more ovens so you can bake bread while baking pies at the same time. If you like to paint, he’ll give you a room to do just that. Luca is never grandiose about it, no. He never drops these gifts on you among others or as a big gesture. You’ll be walked to your gift with his hands over your eyes at the most. 

When Luca comes home to you, it’s with slow, lumbering steps. All he does is run about the city, knocking heads and greasing palms. And this Devil gets up early, so he’s exhausted by the time he sits down in his favorite chair. However, even in his worst state he is not without elegance. Luca will sink into his chair and try to stop you as you pull off his jacket and shoes. He’ll relent in his attempts at shooing you when you offer to rub his shoulders. He can’t say no to that. Once you put your hands on him, all the weight just falls away. Your thumbs rub slow, deep circles, and his eyes close as a low groan rattles through him. He likes to take one of your hands and kiss the back of it as his way of telling you he’s grateful. 

He may pay the bills… but you’re the Lady of The House. That means that nobody is allowed to disrespect you when he’s around. You don’t often get to see Luca angry, but he gets very upset when male guests curse in your presence. He swears very little around you due to being rather traditional about what is and is not suitable to say or do around women. For a guest to act that way around you is to spit in his face and tell him it’s rain. There have been guests that were escorted outside by Luca never to be seen again…

When you’re feeling down, he likes to turn on the record player and pull you into a slow dance. Holding you close as he hums along to the tune. You can’t help but throw your arms over his shoulders and sway with him, breathing in the smell of his cologne mixed with tobacco and most likely a bit of gunpowder. Luca Changretta is many things, but he’s a gentleman and a romantic over all others. 

Relationship Hcs

With his trusted few (or men he’s about to kill) he likes to overshare about you. Take for instance a bookie that’s squealing to the cops. Luca and his men have busted into his apartment to interrogate him, when he sees the bookie likes to paint. Luca will take a few minutes to ask him, “What sort of paint— or medium do you prefer? Acrylic? Hm. My lady, she’s all about watercolor. What are your thoughts on surrealism?” 

Luca isn’t all glamour and big gifts, he likes the domestic life with you. Marriage to him isn’t the life ruiner that it is for other men. With how brutal his work is, the mundane feels like a sanctuary. Which means he treasures every little thing you two do together, including gossip. He’ll listen to you vent while reading a book or flipping through the morning paper and actually follow along. He’s a master at multi-tasking. Mr. Changretta never forgets important dates, or names. If you complain to him about Agnes from bookclub, he will remember her and her annoying dog the next time you bring her up. However, do be careful how upset you let yourself seem about people… Luca likes to “solve your problems,” for you.

As stated above, Luca is traditional. If you are to marry him, he expects you to stop working. You can have as many hobbies as you like! But Luca Changretta will not stand for the future mother of his children to be straining herself at some job. He would honestly be offended, as he would take it as you not trusting him to provide for you. It also goes without saying that he would be paranoid that an enemy of his might be able to hurt you if you were out in the open like that. But really, his first thought would be: “What would she want a job for?”

Another thing that will bother you about him is that he is a man of secrets. Luca will not tell you what’s on his mind if it involves his “work,” or any sort of violence. He doesn’t like to bring his bloody business home with him at all. So much so, if he so gets a drop of blood on his suit, he’ll go to one of his many apartments around town and change. In your moments of insecurity during the earlier stages of your relationship, you can’t help but think he’s changing his clothes after cheating on you. It takes time for him to let you know of the darker parts of him. That said, Luca will never fully let you in. When he’s grieving or furious, he hides it. Smiling in your face the whole time he talks to you about seeing some family in England for Christmas.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders x reader #luca changretta #luca changretta x reader #Luca changretta Headcanons

[jarviscockerssecrethusband]

Steve managed to accidentally crush his headphones over the weekend, so he reluctantly turned to Billy Hargrove for help.

Steve and Billy hadn’t exactly gotten off to the best of starts, considering they beat the crap out of each other within the week. Billy has mellowed out significantly since Neil had left though, so Steve told himself to grow some balls and walked into the general repair shop Billy worked at.

The death metal blasting from the speakers was obnoxious but there was basically nobody there so Steve was able to swallow down the rising panic creeping up his throat. Billy was just some guy. He’d move back to California come the new year and Steve’s life would be exactly the same as it had always been. At least that’s what he told himself.

Billy raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Steve tripping over the step on his way up then stammering his way through an apology. His headphones lay sadly tucked under arm, limp and lifeless.

Actually getting the word autism out was harder than Steve anticipated. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to telling other people or maybe it was because he found Billy very attractive and he knew what happened whenever anyone he liked found out.

The curl of the lip. The sneer. The asking if he was like mentally five or something.

He managed to stumble his way through explaining that they were his sensory aides and they really helped him not get overwhelmed in public and please don’t punch me again Hargrove.

Billy didn’t punch him, much to Steve’s great surprise. Instead he mumbled something about be right back Harrington and disappeared into the staff only area, only to return with a brand new pair which he thrust into Steve’s hands.

“I get it Harrington. Just take these, you busted yours pretty badly. On the house.”

Steve was pretty sure his brain malfunctioned briefly and then attempted to exit the shop after pushing on a pull door.

Billy had been pretty civil with him. So either it was all some great prank that was about to fall on his head or Steve may have misjudged him just a little.

He didn’t risk reaching out again until a month later when he’d really managed to fuck his oven up and gave himself a five minute mantra about being confident before dming Billy on Instagram asking for help.

A message came back in a minute asking what the fuck he’d managed to do. Steve insisted he had no idea then he just got a short, blunt “on my way princess.”

Billy’s tool box was extensive. As much as Steve would have wished, that wasn’t an innuendo. He just had a lot of kit, probably more than was needed for the actual state of the oven.

They hung out a bit while Billy tinkered, threw out jargon that Steve didn’t understand, then declared it was fixed. Steve resolutely tried not to stare at a peach ass in very tight denim. He may have failed.

A comfortable silence fell afterwards until Steve panicked and asked if he wanted a coffee. It only seemed polite. Billy had been working all afternoon pretty much.

How that ended in them snuggled onto the sofa, Steve couldn’t exactly remember. All he could really register was that Billy’s arms were warm and strong and Steve wished he could just stay there.

Then he snuggled in further and Billy stiffened up. Crap. He’d fucked up somehow.

Steve pulled himself back up into a sitting position, self consciously checking his hair. Billy looked slightly bewildered but more at himself than Steve.

“You…………you alright man? I didn’t push you too far right?”

He got a slow blink in response and being pulled back into a muscular chest. Steve just hoped he wasn’t doing his “simp face”, as Robin had named it.

“Steve”

Ok first name was not a good sign. Prepare for a fist.

“I fucking like you ok? Don’t laugh. I’ve liked you ever since I first set eyes on you, you beautiful oblivious bastard.”

And Steve. Steve had always kind of hated romcoms. They were dumb and clishe and the couples who got together by the end never really made sense.

But looking at Billy’s slightly flushed face and after hearing his confession, Steve thought the romcom route might be the best way to go.

Billy really was a very good kisser.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #harringrove ficlet #autistic steve harrington #modern au

[nycbaby21]

Quinn Hughes Imagine

prompt: “I’m sorry. I just had to see you.“

word count: 1,865

The final buzzer of the game was normally met with cheers and excitement at Rogers Arena, but tonight it was filled with heavy sighs and disappointed fans. This was the third game in a row they had lost and you can see how frustrated the guys were getting. Not wanting to bother watching the sad and irritated post-game interviews, I lean over and turn off the tv. I had never been a huge hockey girl, that is until I moved to Vancouver for work and moved in next door to one of the Canucks. Many months ago when I was lugging boxes into the apartment building I bumped into the tall blonde with a huge smile. He immediately stopped what he was doing and helped with what would have taken me hours by myself. After a repayment meal and a lengthy conversation about how it was truly criminal, I had never been to a hockey game, a quick and solid friendship was made with Brock.

I made my way over to the kitchen and turned on the oven for some cookies. Normally when Brock and the guys have a hard game he usually ends up over at mine. He says it helps him because he doesn’t feel like being alone after. Recently some of the other guys have started coming along, which I actually really enjoy. I was so scared that I wouldn’t make friends and be so alone moving to a completely new country, but I feel like I am a member of the team with how many hockey players file in and out of my place. Sometimes they show up even when Brock isn’t around. 

My phone rings when I am placing the cookie sheet in the oven. I reach over and answer already knowing who it was. It was a running joke in our friendship that Brock looked like Prince Charming from Shrek, so his ringtone was quickly changed from the default one to I’m Too Sexy for My Shirt from the second movie. I can’t help but smile when I hear the sound. “Hey B,” I say trying to gauge his mood based on his facial features. It was too dark in his car for me to tell. “Hey y/n,” he sighs and I can hear the disappointment in his voice. A frown appears on my face before I could help it. I didn’t know what to say to make it better so we just sat in silence, a comfortable one. “I have a batch of your favorites in the oven waiting for you,” I tell him hoping to bring a small smile to the blonde’s face. A big sigh leaves his mouth,” I’m not coming home tonight. Remember that girl I went out with last week,” he starts and I nod,” Well she came to the game tonight and invited me over.”

“That’s okay Boes. I’ll just put them up for you and drop them by sometime tomorrow.” That seems to lift his mood the tiniest bit. “So… you are staying the night,” I smirk while raising my eyebrows ridiculously. He glances down at the phone seeing my face and busts out laughing. My work for the night was done by making my best friend smile after a tough night. “Grow up dork,” he laughs and soon his whole face lights up when he parks and reaches for the overhead lights. He quickly fiddles around the car grabbing his bag and then turning back to face me. “Okay well I’m here so I guess I see you when I see you,” he says getting out and heading towards her door. “Okay bye B. And hey at least you can say you scored tonight, the other guys can’t,” I say trying to hold a straight face but failing. “Oh, my god. I’m hanging up now. I actually hate you,” his words don’t match the beaming smile on his face. “Love you too,” I say while hanging up the phone. 

The quick beeps of the oven alert me to the cookies being done. As I plate the last couple I hear a knock on my door. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I wonder who it could be this late since Brock isn’t home. I head to the door quietly and peek through the peephole seeing one of his teammates. I stand back confused for one second and then quickly shake it off opening the door. I look up and meet the eyes of the last player I thought would show up after a bad game. Quinn Hughes stood in the hallway in his game-day suit and dripping hair. “Oh my gosh, Quinn. You must be freezing,” I rush to pull him into my apartment. “I’m sure I have something that will fit give me one second,” I say rushing off to my room and pulling out a pair of my dad’s old college sweats that I stole when I moved. I grab a random sweatshirt because almost all of mine are oversized anyway and find him in the same position I left him in. The only difference is the door is now closed and his hockey bag was on the floor.

“Okay, these should work. But if not I can always run over to Brock’s and grab something,” it looks like my words fall deaf on his ears because he hasn’t even looked at me the whole time I was talking. “Quinn, did you hear me? Are you okay,” I ask slowly walking towards him and trying to hand him the clothes. He finally lifts his head and I can see the tears in his beautiful eyes. “Oh Quinn,” I whisper as I take one final step forward and wrap my arms around him. Having known him for months now, I know Quinn isn’t the biggest fan of physical touch, especially with people he isn’t really all that close with. When I make it close enough to him, he collapses in my arms letting out soft sobs breaking my heart in the process. Quinn was the guy who always had everything together, and seeing him let down his walls was new territory for me.

Quickly circling my arms around the tall defencemen, I stand in the middle of my apartment with the boy letting all of my emotions out. I rub my hand up and down his back slowly and whisper small things to him like “It’s okay Quinn let it all out” and “I know I know.” My arms had gone numb five minutes ago but I was going to stay in his embrace until he pulled away. As if he had read my mind he shyly pulled away and looked down at me with red eyes. A stray tear falls down his cheek and without a second thought, I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb leaving my hand resting on his face. I go to pull it away feeling too intimate but he encircles my wrist with his hand and leans into mine more. A small smile faces upon my face accompanied by a red blush. Now was not the time to be thinking about how attractive I found him or how many times I had wished he would be the one to show up with Brock after a game.

“Wanna go sit down in the living room. I can turn something on or we can talk if you want to,” I speak gently eyes scanning his face. A small nod gives me his answer and I slip my hand from his cheek and lace our fingers together. After he left and changed I started getting him settled in the middle of my couch and I try to round the back of it to grab one of the thousands of throw blankets I have. His grip on my hand on tightens eyes jumping to look at me and figure out why I am leaving him. I laugh lightly and reach for the closest blanket and fall back into his embrace on the couch. I lean back into the corner of it and gently pull him back into me. He rests his head in the crook of my neck and I hesitantly run my fingers through his dark hair. He releases a small sound of enjoyment so I continue until my hand goes numb. 

Using the remote I turned on some Adam Sandler movie I had started the night before but fell asleep during. The only reason I even knew he was awake was when he let out a small laugh at the scene. My hand falls from his head when he looks up at me with childlike eyes. I swear even if he wasn’t so close he could have still heard my heartbeat increase. I sent him a smile and he returned it just as big. “Thank you,” his voice was rough from his recent tears. “You don’t have to thank me, Quinn.” He really didn’t need to thank me, I felt like I should be the one thanking him for letting me be the person he lets his walls down to. “Brock always talks about how you have these magical hugs. Like how after every win he feels so much better after hugging you in the halls, or how after every loss they make him feel just the smallest bit less shitty,” he says sitting up and looking anywhere but my eyes. I let out a laugh at this because I had heard Brock says this before, I’m sure everyone he has met has. “I’m sorry. I just had to see you and see if he was right,” he started,” and he was.” The smile that graced his face was one I wanted to freeze time for and just stare at it for a little longer.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help. You don’t have to be sorry either. I am actually so happy I finally got a hug from the huggy bear,” I laugh watching his face fill with blush as he laughs too. We stare at each other for a couple of minutes only breaking eye contact at one of the many random noises Adam Sandler makes. We settle back into the couch sitting shoulder to shoulder, feeling so content. Neither of us speaks, we just sit there on the couch enjoying each other's company and watching the ending of the movie. I hand him the remote to pick the next one and while his eyes drift across the screen looking for something, I let mine land on his face trying to memorize every small detail of it. I break my gaze when I hear the opening to Mighty Ducks and laugh at him. He shakes his head and smiles,” What, it’s a good movie.” I reach to fix the blanket on our legs when he stops me and looks over. “Do I smell cookies,” he questions laughing as his stomach grumbles. I nod jumping up and bringing him the container I was supposed to bring Brock. At that moment I didn’t even care that I would have to make more in the morning. The smile on Quinn’s face made it all feel worth it.

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #brock boeser #vancouver canucks #nhl imagine #nycbaby21works

[suzukiblu]

I always assumed Match started off more pale because he like. Wasn't finished cooking? Or more like he wasn't cooked 100 correctly.

Like, whenever I don't wanna cook I'll make these frozen pot pies, and you're supposed to let the pies defrost and slit the top while the oven preheats.

I've noticed when I don't defrost them or slit the top, the crust tends to stay a bit pale and a tiny bit... doughey? I guess?

So that's what I think happened between Superboy and Match. Superboy's pie got to defrost and cook, while Match's pie was left in the freezer while the oven preheated.

Like, I know that Match is supposed to be the "better" version of Superboy but like... I have a hard time believing The Agenda REALLY knew what they were doing

Ironically Match is supposed to have been the one who was completely "cooked", pretty sure he was actually MEANT to come out his "age". KON was supposed to be a grown-ass Superman but got busted out early. It's also at least implied that the only really "better" thing Match has going for him is that he got the full TTK/combat education uploads that Kon had interrupted, and they're actually evenly--you know, MATCHED, lol.

If I HAD to come up with a canonical reason for Match's original coloring changing, I'd either assume it was that he got zero sunlight in-development (which, considering iirc they built Match BEFORE it was canonically clear that Superboy was at least partially solar-powered is in fact a possibility), or it was an early symptom of the genetic flaw that led to his eventual Bizarrofication, which I once saw a fic assume the Agenda had purposefully built into him to keep him under their control. Like, they were giving him medication or hormones that kept the degradation from triggering, basically. Which I think is much smarter as an explanation than what canon did, which was, you know, just not explain it at all as far as I know. Like, obvi the Bizarrofication was just a stupid off-the-cuff idea somebody had like fifteen years later, not a planned thing that mattered or was interesting or logical, but that's how I'd probably explain it if I had to, hah.

Buuuuut I'm pretty sure the dude was originally just meant to be the sci-fi version of albino, just for whatever easy visual cheats to tell him and Kon apart reasons, and then somebody either lost the series bible or just decided to retcon that and stuff him in Kon's old T-shirt instead.

( god I STILL hate the T-shirt for BOTH of them, it's just such a stupidly OOC look that does not get TREATED as OOC. AND KON IS A PUNK, GDI, NOT A JOCK. )

#anonymous #meta ecetera

[scribbling-dragon]

Watcher’s Nest Café

Chapter 6

summary:

“It’s open,” he calls, just loud enough to be heard.

He waits, and then a moment later the door creaks open, the sound of feet shuffling over carpet reaching his ears. “Take your shoes off.”

“What if I’d been a murderer?”

(ao3 link)

(masterpost)

(3,412 words)

It’s exactly nine pm on a mediocre Tuesday evening when someone knocks at his door. He pauses, listening as the person knocks twice in rapid succession, then pauses, and a quieter, third knock follows not long after.

He turns back to his pan, poking at the noodles with a fork, swirling them around in the boiling water. “It’s open,” he calls, just loud enough to be heard.

He waits, and then a moment later the door creaks open, the sound of feet shuffling over carpet reaching his ears. “Take your shoes off.”

“What if I’d been a murderer?” Jimmy asks. Scott waits, not turning around to face him yet, still poking at the noodles. The steam rising off the pot warms his hands, even through his gloves, and he appreciates the small shred of warmth it gives him even as condensation collects on his gloves.

The radiator rattles in the corner, sounding far more like something getting ready to explode than something that heats his apartment. He continues waiting, listening as Jimmy sighs heavily, as though incredibly put-upon, and slips his shoes off. He ruins the moment by chucking them towards the front door, missing by several inches. They slam into the wall instead.

“Very few murderers are polite enough to knock, Jimmy dear,” he brushes past Jimmy - there’s hardly enough space for one person in this kitchen, let alone two - reaching over him and into the top cupboard, pulling one of the bowls down. “And even fewer are kind enough to bring me wine.”

Jimmy grips the bottle of wine a little tighter, glancing down at it, looking surprised, as though he only just remembered he had it. “Oh, uh, yes,” Jimmy laughs, holding it out towards Scott.

Scott quirks an eyebrow, hands full of boiling hot pan and the other making sure his dinner doesn't get washed down the sink as he drains the water away. Jimmy clears his throat and sets it on the side, careful to slide it as far away from the edge as possible. Scott appreciates it, one wine stain on his carpet is enough.

“Any particular thing we’re celebrating?” He asks, “As far as I was aware, the party isn't until Friday.”

“It isn't,” Jimmy shuffles back and forth on the spot, wings flexing. Scott almost smiles a little at the action, reminded of a much younger Jimmy doing almost the exact same thing when he asked if he wanted to be friends. “Can't I just come see my friend?”

“Best friend,” Scott corrects, sitting at the table. Jimmy sits down across from him, though he’s wise enough not to lean his arms on the table. It wobbles, rather badly, and is currently propped up by several wadded pieces of paper and hope. And probably some kind of divine intervention too. “And not with wine that expensive.”

“It wasn't that expensive,” Jimmy tries to protest, but he already sounds like he’s giving up on his own argument. Scott nods along, beginning to eat his noodles, waiting for Jimmy to cave. “It was on offer.” Jimmy says.

“You cheaping out on me?”

“You were just-!” Jimmy cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Are you eating instant noodles again?”

“I had an apple while I made them.”

“Scott,”

“Jimmy,” he parrots back, eating another mouthful of noodles. “They're cheap and easy, it is nine at night. I'm not about to bust out the chopping board and hope the oven works properly.”

“You sound like me,” Jimmy jokes, smiling. He doesn't move to do anything else, but he keeps his eyes carefully averted from Scott as he eats, something that Scott finds himself appreciating despite how much he wants to hate it.

“Yeah, but there’s something actually wrong with my oven. You just touch it and it explodes.”

“That was a microwave.”

“Not my point,” Scott leans back in his chair, meeting Jimmy’s eyes for a moment before Jimmy looks away again. “Why’re you here?” He grins, “Wait, no, let me guess…there’s paper covering every inch of free space?”

Jimmy groans, head thunking down to the table. It wobbles precariously, groaning like it’s going to give in and collapse beneath the weight of air and his bowl. He almost expects it to, with Jimmy sat across from him- that definitely cancels out whatever divine intervention that’s kept this table standing for as long as it has. It remains standing, by some miracle. Maybe another divine intervention.

“I love him,” Jimmy says, “and his projects are genius, but I wish he could keep them at least a little bit contained. Just one table, that’s all I want. I’d even take half a table at this point!”

Scott pushes Jimmy backwards, removing his head from the table, when the wood creaks dangerously again. He pulls his bowl backwards as well, cradling it in his hands as he watches his table carefully, ready for the moment of betrayal.

“What’s he working on this time?”

“Decked Out,” Jimmy smiles to himself, probably doesn't even realise he’s doing it. “The idea’s really good, it’s looking great, you know?” Scott’s seen the schematics maybe once in the years he’s known Tango, and even the sketches he saw are nothing compared to what Jimmy tells him about.

“Yeah,” he nods along. The last mouthful of noodles are cold, but he eats them anyway and stands. The bowl gets dumped in the sink, and he promises he’s going to wash it before he wakes in a cold sweat, visions of his sink being overtaken by mould in his mind. That only happened the once, and he fixed it. Everything was fine afterwards, even if everything stank of bleach. “You want the fancy glasses?”

“As long as you have some to spare.” Jimmy jokes. Scott has several of his favourite wine glasses, fancy ones that he pulls out when he wants to mope on the sofa with Jimmy, or gossip about something and feel far more successful than he actually is.

“I always do,” he pulls the two nearest the edge out, setting them on the side. “Sit on the sofa, I’ll be over in a moment.”

Jimmy doesn't reply, but he does hear the squeaking of the sofa a moment later. He fills the glasses halfway, aware that they're going to be drinking straight from the bottle after the second glass.

He sets the bottle down on his side of the sofa, far away from any stray hands or wings that might try and knock it over. He presses the glass into Jimmy’s hands, not releasing it until he’s certain that Jimmy’s got a good enough grip on it to not spill it over himself. He settles on the other side of the sofa, tucking his legs beneath himself.

“How’s Lizzie?” He asks. He hasn't seen her around very much, just in brief glimpses as she visits the café, sometimes with Joel and sometimes not.

“She’s doing great,” Jimmy smiles, taking a sip of his wine. Scott does the same, settling further into the cushions. He can hear the clock ticking from the doorway, has to resist the urge to glance over at it, to watch as the hand ticks around and around, counting down the seconds of his evening. He continues to watch Jimmy.

“She’s been helping out at the vets, right?” He asks, “The one around the corner from,” he gestures vaguely, but Jimmy seems to get what he means anyway.

“Yeah,” he nods, “yeah, she has. Really been enjoying it too, even if some of the animals are…difficult.” Jimmy winces.

“The animals or the owners?”

“The animals. Mostly. Some people asked her whether it was ethical for her to work in a vets with all the animals.”

“And I'm certain that went fantastic.” Scott laughs, absently swirling the wine in his glass, watching as it sloshes against the rim, threatening to spill over.

“Oh, yeah. All the people there love her, she was pretty sure the receptionist was gonna vault over his desk to throttle them. She was very polite about it all, much more polite than I would have been.”

“Probably too nice,” he mutters.

“Oh, nah, she told them the rabbit needed specialist food. Super expensive kind, all the staff knew what she was doing and let it happen. The owner didn't even realise, was more flustered about the fact everyone looked like they were gonna kill her.”

“Same person would probably have a fit over you two being related.”

“Genetics is fucked,” Jimmy shrugs. “My mum didn't even know that there were cat genes on her side. Apparently it was my great-great-nan’s sister. Or something.”

“Quite a connection.”

Jimmy hums, tapping a finger against the edge of his glass. It rings quietly in the silence that follows. Scott would turn the TV on, but the remote is just out of reach and he can't be bothered to stretch and grab it. His feet ache from being stood all day, and his leg feels three different kinds of wrong at the moment. The clock ticks on in the background.

He sits up. “More wine?”

“We have work in the morning,” Jimmy says, frowning at him. He already seems a little softer around the edges, the alcohol loosening his limbs and leaving his brain a little slower.

“And I'm your boss, hardly gonna tell you off for coming in hungover.”

“But you're gonna be fine tomorrow,” Jimmy whines, “it’s not fair.”

“If you want someone to feel miserable alongside you, find another drinking buddy.” He fills Jimmy’s glass halfway again. “You knew what you were getting into when you came here, even if you stood outside for ten minutes and shuffled back and forth.”

“You heard that?” Jimmy’s cheeks tinge pink.

“Course I did,” his fins wiggle for emphasis, “I can hear everything.”

“No you can't.”

“Deidre below us definitely can. And she’s going to be up here, asking about that lovely boy that was over last night, and, oh, what was his name?”

“That’s a horrible impression of her,” Jimmy laughs. “Isn't she like, eighty? Why does she care?”

“She thinks I'm lonely.” He shrugs. “She’s sweet, really, if far too nosy. Likes to drop round a lasagne every once in a while. Tell me I'm not eating enough.”

“You don't eat enough,” Jimmy frowns. “What number did you say she lived at?”

“I didn't.” Jimmy kicks him and Scott kicks him back, digging the heel of his foot into Jimmy’s ribs. “For this exact reason.”

“Alright, alright,” Jimmy smacks at his ankle, twisting away from him, wine getting dangerously close to spilling everywhere. “You've made your point.” He digs his heel in, just a little bit more, before tucking his leg beneath him again. Jimmy settles back into the sofa cushions, squishing himself down until he looks ready to fall asleep. Scott watches his wine glass carefully. “I don't have anything else to talk about now,” Jimmy frowns.

“I'm sure you’ll come up with something.” The silence isn't as bad as it could be, nowhere near as oppressive as the silence in his apartment normally is. Normally, it’s dead quiet, the sound of the fridge humming is quiet, everything overshadowed by the ticking of the clock. A constant reminder of the seconds slipping past, tumbling out of his grasp no matter how hard he tries to grab onto them.

Jimmy, here, present, in his apartment; just another human being sitting beside him on the sofa is enough to push that claustrophobic feeling back, dispelling it with the sounds of feathers rustling against each other and the shifting of fabric as Jimmy fidgets.

Jimmy makes a small noise in the back of his throat, perking up. Scott watches him from the corner of his eye, smiling into his wine glass. His smile quickly fades as Jimmy’s grin from finding a topic of conversation turns to a smirk as he settles comfortably back into the cushion behind himself, kicking his feet into Scott’s lap.

“You've been smiling more at work recently.”

“Have I?” He hasn't noticed if he has been. His thoughts have been occupied with other matters at work recently. “I hadn't noticed.”

“Mhm.” Jimmy’s nodding along, smiling like he knows something Scott doesn't. He doesn't like the feeling. Normally he’s the one smiling at Jimmy like that- does it always feel so horrible? He scowls at Jimmy, flicking him on the ankle.

“Out with it,” he demands. “What’s got you sat there like the cat that got the canary?”

“Ouch,” Jimmy says. “Maybe choose your words a little more carefully next time.”

Scott doesn't respond, preparing to flick Jimmy again. Jimmy obviously senses this as he begins to talk. Smart guy.

“I'm talking about Martyn,” Jimmy shimmies his shoulders. One of his wings wedges itself a little further between the cushions with the motion, though Jimmy doesn't seem to care. “You smile at him- even Pix noticed! He asked me if there was something going on.”

“There’s nothing going on.” He says. “And you can tell Pix that.”

“But do you want there to be something going on?” Jimmy asks, and all traces of his joking from before disappear, as though they’d never been there in the first place. The sudden switch leaves Scott feeling very disoriented- he’s been feeling off-kilter since Jimmy sat down with him. It’s like the rug has been ripped out from beneath him and he’s still not hit the ground, still falling. “Because, I, ugh,” Jimmy tips forward and Scott jolts, prepared to catch his glass if he drops it (he seriously will not be getting his deposit back if Jimmy spills wine on his carpet), but Jimmy just groans, cradling his head in one hand. “How the hell do I explain this?”

“I think you're taking this too seriously.” Scott says, taking a sip of wine. Jimmy looks up at him, a gleam in his eye, promptly reminding Scott that he’s far too sober for this conversation.

“So there is something!” Jimmy sounds far too triumphant right now. “Aw, I knew it. Pearl’s gonna be so pissed.”

“You're rather invested in this,” he comments.

“Course I am,” Jimmy pokes his foot into Scott’s stomach, the warm weight of his legs across Scott’s increasing for a moment before decreasing again. “You're my best friend, I want to see you happy.”

Scott hums, low and in the back of his throat as he considers what Jimmy’s just said. He hasn't been thinking about it, trying his best not to, really. To think about it would mean he’d have to make a decision on what to do about it. And lingering in silence isn't going very well for him so far, if his friends have noticed it so easily. The thought that his friends might have spoken about him, spoken about this, makes him feel a little uncomfortable, warm with embarrassment.

He takes another sip, refusing to meet Jimmy’s eyes.

“Martyn’s nice too,” Jimmy continues. “He’s studying marine bio, and he seems good at it. But he’s also a nice guy, everyone that knows him has nothing but good things to say.”

“You don't need to pitch him to me, Jimmy.” He cracks a smile at the sheer absurdity of it all, looking up to meet Jimmy’s eyes. They're shining with something like excitement, and it’s almost bright enough to cover up the sadness underneath, the lingering emotion that Jimmy never wants to address, even when it creeps up on him.

“Oh, that’s fantastic, you know, he said-”

“You don't have to feel bad, Jimmy.” He says it before he can stop himself. And maybe he really should stop drinking while he has these conversations. Maybe he’d be able to keep a few more of his thoughts to himself, tucked neatly away where his friends can only guess at them. He used to be far better at it.

“I don't feel bad, what are you talking about?”

Scott smiles, tilting his head to the side as he considers the way Jimmy is smushed into the sofa cushions, head leaning against it, feet resting on Scott's lap. His feathers are ruffled and his eyes are tired. It’s late, and they both have a morning shift tomorrow.

“Did you want to stay here?” He asks, ignoring the small flash of disappointment in Jimmy’s eyes, looking around the room instead. The clock ticks in the background, slowly inching their way towards ten. The radiator has ceased its rattling, but only because the heating’s been switched off.

“I- not if it’s inconvenient for you.” Jimmy makes to stand, empty wine glass held loosely, close to slipping free from his hand. Scott takes it from him carefully, pushing him back into the sofa.

“I'm not going to make you walk back to yours this late.” He says, quietly. Everything feels far too loud right now, his heart beating uncomfortably loud in his ears. The comfort of five minutes prior has evaporated, leaving him far more sober than he wants to be. Jimmy watches him carefully, before clearly leaning back into the sofa.

Scott leaves the pair of glasses on the counter, beside the sink. Beside the pot that he’s going to wash tomorrow. Leaving it overnight makes his skin crawl, thinking of what he could emerge to find in the morning- but he knows now that mould can't spread that fast or far.

Jimmy’s eyes are shut when he steps back towards the sofa, his head tilted at an awkward angle and wings twisted behind him. He jabs him between the ribs, ducking as Jimmy flails at him before realising who it is and settling back grumpily. “You don't have to do that every time you know.”

“You sleep like the dead,” Scott informs him, for possibly the thousandth time in their friendship. “C’mon, you've slept on the sofa once, and that was punishment enough for everyone you interacted with that day.”

“I can't make you sleep on the sofa,” Jimmy protests.

“Which is why I won't be sleeping on the sofa.” Jimmy frowns at him. “My bed is plenty big enough for two, the worst danger is waking up with feathers in my mouth.”

“Hey!” Jimmy hops up from the sofa, suddenly full of energy. “You know that’s never happened.”

He doesn't choose to respond to that, stepping through into his bedroom, ignoring the way his leg throbs a little. It aches, not quite as badly as it did yesterday, but it still lingers, like something gnawing at the bones there. He digs about in his drawers, looking for something that might fit Jimmy - he’s hardly going to let the guy sleep in his jeans - and tosses it over his shoulder when he finds it.

There’s the sound of something soft impacting flesh and then the muffled sounds of a bird dying. His aim’s still perfect, then.

He only waits for the bathroom door to click shut before he changes out of his own clothes, slipping on the softer pyjamas and tucking himself into bed. He worries at the cuffs of his gloves as he watches the bathroom door, staring at the golden light that outlines it, small streaks of that light slipping further into the dark room.

The door opens, creaking, and the light clicks off a moment later. The bed dips beside him and he turns to face Jimmy. Jimmy stares back at him, face barely visible in the darkness of his room.

“Are you going to stare at me all night?” He asks, breaking the silence between them. Jimmy huffs, but lies down. He’s stiff next to Scott, but relaxes when Scott does nothing but settle a little more comfortably into his bed, drawing the blankets up around his chin.

The leather of his gloves creaks quietly as he tightens his grip, tugging the blankets a little more securely around himself.

Jimmy inhales. “You don't have to wear those for me.” He says.

“I know.” Scott says. Jimmy’s eyes are closed, and Scott could almost believe he was asleep if Jimmy hadn't spoken a moment ago. He has this ability to look at peace, no matter where he is. “I'm not.”

“Alright,” Jimmy says. “I was just letting you know you could take them off. If you wanted to.”

He can hear the ticking of the clock, the sound flooding his room in the silence that follows. He listens to it, swallowing down the first few responses that come to mind.

“Go to sleep Jimmy.”

#juno.writes #watcher's nest café au #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #majorwood #limited life smp #limited life #trafficshipping #trafficblr #traffic series #solidarity gaming #solidaritygaming #trafficfic

[normal-internet-user]

DOG DAYS

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Summary: You recently got a new puppy, and Mikey loves him alot. like, alot.

Warnings: None!

Requested: Nope!

GN Reader!

.........................................

"Dang it, Bear, get over here!"

You let out a huff as you chased your new german shepard puppy down the hallway of your apartment. Bear had been a total sweetheart on day 1, but now that he had gotten used to his new home, he's as energetic as your friggin boyfriend.

You had wanted a pet for a while, and actually intended on getting a cat, but the moment you saw Bear at the shelter, you knew you had to take him home.

With a huff, you cornered the puppy. The little menace was wagging his tail, your phone in his mouth. As quickly as you could, you snatched him up off the ground, taking the phone from his mouth.

"Bad doggy, we don't take peoples stuff."

Bear whined, looking at you with those adorable maple eyes.

"My goodness, I can't stay mad at you, can I? you are just like your dad." you sigh, putting Bear down on the couch, you handed him one of his squeaky toys.

You checked over your phone, grimacing at the drool all over the screen. Grabbing some tissues from the coffee table, you did your best to wipe the drool from the screen.

A ping sounded from your phone, letting you know you had just received a text. You opened the message from your boyfriend,

Orange Crush: Omw Anglecakes!

(Nickname): See u soon babe!

You looked down at Bear, who had stopped chewing his toy in favor of staring at you with his big happy eyes, and his tounge hanging from his mouth.

You giggled, picking up the puppy, you spoke in a high pitched baby voice, "Guess what, Bear? Daddy's on his way! are you so excited? you are?"

Bear wagged his tail faster, licking your face as you giggled. You walked the two of you into the kitchen, setting Bear down on the lanolium floor. You pulled a frozen pizza from the freezer, then turned on the oven to pre-heat.

Bear started to bark excitedly, spinning around, as you heard a knock from the window in the living room.

You run over and unlatch the window, with Bear jumping excitedly behind you as Mikey enters your apartment.

"Hey there, babe." he greets, giving you a peck on the lips, before turning away and holding out his arms for Bear, "Where's my little guy?"

Bear barked, jumping into Mikey's arms excitedly. You giggled and shook your head, the two where just too cute. "How long are you staying over, babe?" you asked, walking into the kitchen to put the pizza in the oven.

"I was hoping to stay the night, sound fine to you?"

You nodded, leaning on the counter as Mikey walked into the kitchen holding Bear, "Sounds perfectly fine to me. Then you can help me bathe Bear."

"Wait really? I get to help? Awsome! You hear that, Bear, it's bath time little dude!"

You laughed, patting Mikey's arm, "Chill out, Mikey. we can give him a bath after pizza."

Mikey nodded with his usual smile, taking Bear into the living room, "Let's go play tug of war! where's your rope? huh, Bear? where's your rope."

"Don't pull on the rope to hard, babe! you could hurt his little puppy teeth." you call over your shoulder, starting to clean the dishes from earlier that day.

"I know, Anglecakes! trust me I'm a professional!"

"Mikey, that's what you said when you tried to land a flip off my fire-escape. Then you busted your face on the sidewalk."

"That was one time!"

You laugh, and place the final clean dish on thr drying rack. Still chuckling you walk into the living room, plopping down on the couch, watching your boyfriend and dog tug back and forth on Bear's bright orange rope. (Mikey had insisted it be orange, since, "Orange is the superior color!")

Bear started to lead Mikey in circles around the coffee table, doing his best to get the large turtle to drop the rope. Mikey was doing a good job at keeping up, until Bear jerked the rope, causing Mikey to lose his grip. Bear took off running down the hall, rope in his mouth.

Mikey was just aboit to chase after him, when the small dog tripped over the large rope. Both you and Mikey laughed at the look of utter confusion on his face.

The poor thing had zero idea how he had tripped, and he looked all around, trying to find the culprit.

Suddenly an idea popped into your head, and you smiled, "Oh, my poor baby!" you cooed as you picked up Bear, "Oh, it's ok. oh, poor Bear."

Bear looked up at you, then at Mikey, then back at you, then started to give little whines. Now Mikey was confused. You tried your hardest not to laugh at the absolute dramatic show Bear was giving, as you continued to coo at him.

The oven dinged, taking your attention from the faker you were holding. Passing Bear to a still confused Mikey, you rushed into the kitchen to get the pizza from the oven.

After cutting the pizza into slices, you called out to Mikey, "Food's done!"

Mikey and Bear came racing into the kitchen, Bear sitting down next to his bowls, waiting for you to fill them. Once you did, Bear tail wagged happily as he began to eat.

After dinner, you and Mikey gave Bear his promised bath. Then with worn out puppy, and an even more worn out turtle, the three of you layed in your bed, Bear curled up in between the two of you. You gave Mikey a kiss, "G'night babe."

"Night Anglecakes."

#tmnt #x reader #tmnt x reader #mikey x reader #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2016 #mikey tmnt 2016 #2016 mikey #mikey x reader tmnt 2014 #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse mikey

[moral-terpitude]

Misadventures - Part 16 (Merry Fucking Christmas)

and it won't be long 'till we drop this match • when I burn to your fingertips, you can throw what's left

A/N: so, this will be the last part until 2024! I didn’t forget about part 15 (it’s still in the works and a bit rocky!) but, this is just where Christmas falls in the story sequentially, so, we’ll have to just do some jumping around here a bit!

[Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

Misadvetures taglist: @cillmequick @emotionalcadaver @zablife @raincoffeeandfandoms

Summary: Quinn has an unexpected guest.

Word Count: 4,072

Warnings: discussion of childhood trauma, discussion of intergenerational trauma, discussion of childhood sexual assault, missing persons, discussion of character death. This is NOT warm and fuzzy.

Quinn realized, as she sat looking into the yet unlit fireplace, she had never spent a Christmas alone. 

She had decided that maybe coming home and being somewhere familiar, while not with family, would be a good break. 

She hadn’t told Tommy she would be by herself. He had seemed surprised when she said she was going home for Christmas, and she was yet to talk to anyone but her dad, and as far as he knew she was still in New York. 

A good ol’ switcheroo to give her some time to herself.

The drive in the rental car wasn’t terrible, and the weather had just started to pick up once she got settled in, taking the time to stop off and pick up ingredients for dinner even though she definitely didn’t feel like cooking. 

The carrots were steaming in the pan as she pulled the bottle of non-alcoholic wine Tommy had given her from the bag, an actually quite kind gesture the more she looked at it, because it wasn’t just the fake Welch’s champagne her mom would give them on new years as kids, it was really made in a winery somewhere, and she wondered if he had had to order a whole batch of it just to get one bottle, because if he had, it would last her a lifetime. 

She felt somewhat choked up at the thought, because until then, she realized she hadn’t been looking to the future too far with Tommy, trying to not overthink things, but she really liked the idea of him being it for her. 

She didn’t want to go back to dating, and before he sort of fell into her lap she wasn’t looking for someone, so maybe that’s all there was to it, that she’d find the right person when it was time. 

She dug through the junk drawer in search of the wine key, flipping over the salmon in the buttered pan as the potatoes browned in the oven. 

Snowflakes fell outside the window, and as the breeze flung them all through the air, she caught the sight of headlights against the trees. 

Her brow furrowed, pulling the curtain, to see, of all people, her mother getting out of the White Jeep Wagoneer that was parked behind the rental, and trudging towards the door, sputtering as she did so about what Quinn could only guess she was saying was the “fucking stupid weather.”

“Mom?” Quinn cracked the door, peeking her head out, as another gust of wind came through, sending her shivering. 

“Oh, let me through, it’s freezing out here, Quinn.”

Quinn nodded, returning to the stove to shut off the burners. 

The sound of her mom kicking the snow off of her boots sent her back to snow days as a child, all 7 of them busting back into the house for grilled cheese and soup before turning on a movie with mugs of hot chocolate. 

Quinn didn’t turn around as she put the food on the plate, hesitating for a moment before realizing there was enough for both of them, that her eyes had been bigger than her stomach. 

“Have you ate?”

“I left around dinner, stopped off for a coffee.”

“How’d you know I was here?” Quinn asked, pulling another plate out of the cupboard and divvying up the salmon onto the second plate, fresh carrots and potatoes piled on as well. 

She sat them on the table, doubling back for utensils, before sitting herself in the chair, the bottle of wine still unopened. 

“Your dad was showing Amanda how to set up Life360 on their new phones, I haven’t had the notifications on I guess, but it showed you heading through Cadillac.”

“I took everyone but dad off of mine.” Quinn took a bite, biding her time before speaking in an effort to calm herself. “Why are you here?”

Her mother sighed, giving a shake of her head, “To talk. I’m surprised I got this far, I honestly didn’t think you’d let me in,” her brows furrowed as she stilled, the way Quinn would listen as well to see if anyone was around, “Isn’t Tommy with you?”

Quinn pushed the carrots around on her plate before stabbing through one, “No. He has the kids. I told him I was coming home, but, I didn’t tell him I’d be by myself. It just felt…too soon to spend a holiday with his kids. I’ve met them, and it’s not that I don’t want to be around them, I just—“

“I get it,” she nodded, as Quinn took a bite, falling back into silence until their plates were empty and in the sink soaking in hot sudsy water. 

“So, I know you didn’t drive for almost three hours to talk about the weather.” Quinn stood at the counter, popping the cork out of the bottle, before pouring herself a glass. “I’d offer you some, but it isn’t going to do anything for you.”

She saw her mother still out of the corner of her eye, before she stood slowly, crossing to pick up the bottle and examine it. 

“Are you—“

“No,” she drummed her nails on the side of the glass, wishing she would have kept her mouth shut, “it just turns out alcohol and I don’t mix, so, it’s better this way.”

Patti sat the bottle down, leaning against the stove, before huffing out a sigh, “My dad…was an alcoholic.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Quinn bit back, deciding it was best to be a bit on the defensive still until she managed to feel out her mother’s true purpose for the visit, “you’ve never told us anything about him.”

“I know. Because he wasn’t nice. He wasn’t a good man, and he sure as hell wasn’t a good father.”

Quinn thought about watching Tommy and the way he interacted with the kids. By someone’s standards, she was sure, he wouldn’t be considered a good man, but, she thought he was. And a good father, too. 

Quinn chewed the inside of her lip, “I have a feeling this is going to be a long story, so can we sit, please?”

Her mother nodded, and Quinn wandered to the dimly lit living room, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, and tucked herself into the corner, watching her mother take the other end. 

Quinn waited. It wasn’t often that the two of them had much time alone together, and maybe that was part of the problem. She wasn’t particularly in the mood for mending old wounds, not bothering anymore to shed tears over whether life was fair and that their relationship wasn’t good, but at the same time, she was tired of feeling constantly at odds with her family, too.

“I know, there’s things I don’t talk about, but I’ve never wanted to burden anyone with them.” Quinn felt her brow furrow, unsure of how to prepare for the incoming information, “When I was young my uncle, for a very long time, lived with us. He was paid disability from Vietnam. Aunt Amelia and I shared a room. Sometimes, since our parents both worked, he would watch us instead of the neighbor lady, and then he eventually volunteered to watch us all the time. Always home.”

Quinn’s stomach sank, the realization of the unwell feeling the words gave her, the prickle of hair raising on the back of her neck, made her dread what was coming next.

“He never…” she watched her mother sigh, averting her eyes, staring at anything but Quinn as she spoke, “it wasn’t sex, but he did things to me. To her. He never looked twice at Pat, probably because he was older, but Spencer was younger and he took advantage of him, too.”

Quinn fiddled with the gold post in her lip awkwardly; was this how Tommy felt when she unloaded everything on him? What was there really to say? 

It felt different, her divulging everything to him, contextually. It was an explanation. An apology. A warning. All tied up neatly with a bow. This was, well, something else entirely.

The reasoning she had been looking for, maybe.

“When your father and I first got married, Spencer was nowhere to be found. Hadn’t heard from him in years. Then he just showed up one day. Rebecca was 5, so I would have been pregnant with Erica.”

Quinn found it funny the way her mother measured time, sometimes. Rebecca being the oldest, must have only known her to be pregnant for most of her growing up years. 

“He said he needed somewhere to go. That it was temporary. He stayed with us for maybe a year, I think, Erica was small when he left. I came home one day from the doctor to your dad and Opa in the yard, with him blathering on, high on something, saying he didn’t know what he was doing and that he was sorry. He was crying because Opa had the shotgun pointed at him and–”

She shook her head, wiping at a stray tear.

“I never thought anything of it, your dad was at work and I couldn’t cart all of the girls to the appointment, so he said he’d watch them. Your dad came home to…”

Her mothers mouth pressed into a firm line, not wanting to admit the words. 

“Lydia didn’t realize until way later on. She was four. Too little to really know what was happening. The first time she ever did anything with a boy she ended up punching him in the face because it came back to her.”

“That’s why she left.” 

It wasn't a question. It all made sense now. At 14-years-old she hadn’t understood the tension all those years, Lydia acting out, never being home, moving out the minute she turned eighteen and, of course, changing her phone number and never looking back.

For a while, Quinn would call, hoping to at least be sent to voicemail. It didn’t take long for the number to be reassigned to someone else.

“I’m sorry, Quinn. I know, your sister will never talk to me, ever again. That’s something I have to live with and something I regret every day.” She chewed her lip, “Neither of you deserved what happened, and, as parents, we didn’t advocate hard enough for you. I was young with everything that happened to Lydia, and I should’ve pushed harder when they tried to say Spencer wasn’t competent to stand trial.”

Her mother sighed, pulling her eyes away from watching the snowfall outside of the window.

“With Gerard, we should have known better and we should have gotten ahold of Tim sooner.”

Quinn nodded, slowly, looking away.

Her whole life could be summed up by “coulda, shoulda, woulda,” if she tried hard enough.

She wanted to yell, be angry, scream, fight, punch, hit, but she was tired of giving energy to the things that didn’t, really, concern her anymore.

It was done. It was over. It was something that happened, and yes, it affected her, but she was never going to change it.

“Gerard has been missing.” 

The comment itself was out of left field, while not really, for the subject they had been on.

Quinn was somewhat disgusted with the gasp she let out; despite the fact she couldn’t stand his guts it was still shocking news.

“The department put him on leave after you left, and he came up missing a few weeks ago. There was a note, apparently he doesn’t want to be found. It didn’t sound like suicide but they haven’t ruled it out either.”

Quinn’s stomach sank, a few weeks ago was, well, Tommy had been out of town for work. It seemed like they hadn’t been back for very long from her meeting Charlie and Ruby to just have him pack up and leave again, this time, without her.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t asked, but the timeframe was just too tight and she couldn’t keep rescheduling appointments just because she wanted to go with him.

Work. 

She tried not to grimace, but it was something she made a mental note to ask him about when she saw him again. 

There was no subtle way to ask that through a text message. 

Hey, did you happen to threaten and kill my ex, because if you did, well, honestly, thanks. 

Despite going against my previous wishes. 

“So they haven’t seen him since, what, Thanksgiving time?”

“Yeah, just about.”

“Damn,” she sighed, “that’s honestly shitty to have happen around the holidays.”

“Oh,” Patti shook her head, realizing that she had forgotten something, getting up and rummaging through her purse, “this was at the house. Your dad brought it in, but, it had your name on it.”

Quinn puffed out her cheeks, taking the purple wrapped box gently from the shipping box it had been in. 

There was a blue satchel inside, the word Shinola being the largest, with Detroit also pressed in gold below it. 

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered, opening the drawstring and removing the blue box, hands trembling as she unwrapped the piece of paper that fell out. 

Quinn, I’m the luckiest man to have found my perfect match in you. -Tommy

She felt all her limbs turn to gelatin and she hadn’t even opened the box yet. How had he planned this? The note was clearly in his handwriting, but– she tried not to overthink it too much, some things Tommy did he just did, and she was trying not to look too far into the rhyme or reason at that point.

Fuck. Don’t cry, do not cry. 

She opened the magnetized lid, the gold necklace situated on a plush white pillow inside. 

All the charms were 14-karat gold, strung onto a pave gold charm and situated gently in the box. A lightning bolt, a golden match with the word LUCKY engraved on the side (which she knew from the online catalog was exactly how it came) and an upright horseshoe engraved on the golden placard hanging in the midst. 

She handed the box off to her mother, resolve finally breaking, as she got up in search of some tissues. 

“Quinn, that's really pretty. Don’t you like it?” 

“I do,” she mumbled, the words coming through trembling lips as she tried to wipe away all the tears, “no; I do, I really really do.”

She let out a sigh. 

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It’s just been…” she turned on the cold tap, filling a glass with water, “tough. Things have been tough. I mean, we’re both juggling businesses, and, the kids. They’re great. They really are. But I don’t think they like me. Well, Ruby does, but Charlie is just cold. And…” she swallowed hard, the water not helping her fight back the tears, knowing she couldn’t unload everything on her mother, “Lizzie is just not easy to deal with. I feel like she’s after me and I’ve not really even ever spoken to her. Sometimes you know when someone wants to kill you with just a look.”

“Well, that’s,” her mom hugged her, and Quinn was surprised when it felt like a real one this time, “kind of the situation you’ve stepped into, my dear.”

“I know,” Quinn wailed, setting the glass down on the table as she gave in to the hug, her mother rocking her back and forth gently. 

“If I would’ve known you were coming I would’ve put up the tree.” She whispered, “What were you going to do, sit here and stare at an empty room all weekend.”

“I thought about it.”

Quinn slumped. The drain of all of the information and the crying finally catching up with her at once, hitting her like a freight train.

“Why don’t we watch a Christmas movie instead.”

“Okay. Will you help me put that on, I can’t with my nails.”

Her mother nodded, “You better message him and say you got it.”

Quinn checked the time, “Wow, it’s late, but, yeah. He’s gotta put gifts out and I know he’ll feel like the worst dad in the world if he forgets.”

“Go, call him. We’ve got time.”

“Wait,” Quinn checked the clock, 11:50, how had that much time passed, “give me 10 minutes then I can say Happy Birthday, too.”

“His birthday is Christmas?”

“Yeah, go figure. But you were born on Thanksgiving that year, weren’t you?”

“Hello?” Tommy cleared his throat, feeling for the light as he realized he was being ambushed with a FaceTime call at exactly 12-midnight. 

“Hi.” Quinn smiled. 

“Where are you?” She watched as his eyes scanned the surroundings behind her, the bedroom at the cabin looking nothing like the one they had slept in at her parents.

“Oh,” she swallowed, “at the cabin. I had changed my mind once I had got off the plane, and came up north.”

It was a fib, but one that wouldn’t hurt. 

“Love, what are you doing spending the holiday alone?” He rubbed at his eyes, trying to keep his voice as hushed as he could, and leaned against the headboard. 

“I’m not. Mom’s here,”

His brows raised in surprise, “How’s that?”

“Well,” she sighed, as he finally took in her red ringed eyes, “I’ve learned some things. I think we’re gonna be okay.” She shrugged. 

“Were you crying?”

“You made me cry.”

“What did I do, eh?”

“You got me a gift?! I didn’t get you anything!”

He smiled softly, shrugging, “I’ve got everything I need, love.”

“And it’s your Birthday and I'm not there,” she whispered, lip puckering.

“Nothing special about my birthday, I’ll just be a year older next time I see you.”

She chuckled, swiping at her eyes, “Don’t remind me.”

“I think you should get some sleep, Quinn.” 

She hated to agree and have to hang up, but the day, and all the new information she had been give, was definitely wearing on her. 

Pulling into the driveway of the farmhouse, Quinn was surprised to see more than just her Opa’s truck parked in the drive. 

Behind it, was a car she didn’t recognize. A little red Toyota with an Arizona plate and two car seats strapped in the back. 

She parked the black Jeep off to the side, not wanting to be in anyone’s way, and killed the engine. If someone else was here she would probably be outlasting them awhile if Quinn wanted to have any kind of serious conversation. 

“Well, I better get going,” there was a sniffle, the words coming out muddled as Quinn entered the house, not quite recognizing the voice above the baby babbles and the sound of the television playing some kids show. 

“Well,” her Opa’s gruff voice sounded softer as the voices got closer, the sound of the door opening and closing, Quinn’s presence, and another vehicle arriving outside going unnoticed, “you know you’re welcome anytime.”

“Yeah, I know,” Quinn held her breath as she rounded the corner and made her way as quietly as she could into the kitchen, “I just don’t get back this way that often and thought I sound come see you. I wanted the boys to at least know some of their family, ya know?”

She was surprised that Lydia still looked the same. Almost 14-years and there wasn’t much that had changed about her, other than the baby she was holding and the other child clinging to her leg. Two little boys with the same brown hair and brown eyes as their mother. 

Quinn couldn’t hold back the little huff that came out as tears welled in her eyes. Out of all of them Lydia turned out the most looking like their dad. 

Lydia nodded as their eyes met, ruffling the hair of the little boy attached to her leg, “Like I said, we should get going.”

She felt like a ghost as Lydia brushed past her, no acknowledgment of her presence, no introduction to the kids, nothing. 

Quinn swallowed hard as the door closed, tears finally falling down her face as she doubled back, letting the door slam closed behind her. 

“Lydia?”

Her sister didn’t look up, continuing to buckle the boys into their car seats. 

“Lydia!” 

Quinn was surprised when her sister’s face flashed with a bit of anger, closing the now running vehicle up a bit harshly before closing the distance between the two of them. 

“Don’t.” Her sister shook her head, “Don’t call me that. Listen, I made my peace with this place. I got out of here, got far away, changed my name, and I’m happy now. I have a family. I—“ she rubbed the bridge of her nose, before looking Quinn in the eyes again, “If all I have to do is keep my kids far away from all of you to keep them safe, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Quinn felt her lip pucker, no different than the day that Lydia (whether she wanted to be called that or not, Quinn realized that was all she ever knew her as) left the first time. She wondered if it would have been easier to think of her as being dead all these years. 

It seemed like it was what everyone else did. 

“Mom told me—“

“Me being here wouldn’t have changed what happened to you, Quinn.” She glanced over her shoulder at the vehicle, “I have to go.”

She took a shuddering breath, watching the vehicle drive away. 

No ‘I love you’ or ‘what’s your phone number?’ like she had hoped if she ever saw her sister again. 

Quinn swallowed hard, wiping the tears from her cheeks before they started to freeze and hauled herself back into the house, kicking off her shoes, before returning to the kitchen to see a steaming mug of tea waiting for her on the table. 

Quinn didn’t speak until the tea was gone, a plate of food sat in front of her.

Hashbrowns, eggs, wheat toast, and six strips of, surprisingly, store bought bacon. 

She cleared her throat as her Opa filled the mug with another round of hot water, sliding in the chair across from her at the table. 

She popped the egg, dunking her toast and taking a bite, before speaking. 

“You ran out of bacon? Never thought I’d see that happen.”

She tried to not be sour, but maybe the new year would bring better things. 

Taking a sip out of the mug, she fiddled absentmindedly with the necklace from Tommy, thankful that she at least had some positivity to return to. 

“Yeah, well,” she watched her Opa’s eyes flick to the rest of the pack of bacon on the counter, the lid of the rubber made container open that he intended it to be put into, as he dug the pouch of tobacco out of his lip and set it on the edge of his plate, “hogs got sick awhile back. Think they ate something that didn’t agree with them.”

She blinked, taking in what he had said.

Lots of things seemed to be happing awhile back. 

“Around thanksgiving time?” She questioned, trying to remain nonchalant as their gazes met. 

“Well, now that you say that, I guess it was.” 

“Hm,” Quinn huffed, stabbing into the hashbrowns, “interesting.” She cleared her throat, quickly chewing and swallowing the bite, “I should’ve told Tommy to come see the horses while he was here a few weeks ago.”

He nodded, looking back into the plate, “You coulda. Domino is still getting acclimated but someone breaking her in might not be a bad idea. Otherwise, I ain’t never seen hide nor hair of him.”

Quinn stared at him, the wrinkles and valleys in his face, as she took note of his rather purposeful double negative. He always hated when she talked that way as a kid, told her when he was young his mother woulda beat the ‘ain’t’ out of him if he talked like that. 

She knew he never would have been able to help Tommy haul a body into the enclosure with the pigs, but he definitley was the one that held the keys to it, and she knew if Tommy asked him to dump the body there he’d sacrifice his bacon one million times over to do anything that helped Quinn. 

Quinn decided she didn’t enjoy the fact that all the holiday left her with was more questions than answers. 

She needed a fucking cigarette and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Maybe it was the last time she would come home for Christmas ever again. 

This has been up my sleeve for so long I’ve been trying to be patient with myself and not blow it!

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #peaky fookin blinders #quinn meyer #misadventures #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #modern day au #modern au #modern thomas shelby #modern tommy shelby #modern!tommy #modern!tommy shelby #modern Tommy Shelby X oc #tommy shelby x oc

[byuntrash101]

Baekhyunie don't leave me - Part 5

barista!baekhyun x fem!reader

mafia!AU | action | angst | smut | nsfw

3.9 word count

sir kink, big cock, unprotected sex, dirty talk, begging, getting caught kink (kinda), semi public (storage room of empty shop), oral (f), orgasm control (f), breeding kink, creampie 🌸 🌼🌷 🌹

Don’t trust anything in this story. Don’t trust the cute bright cover, don’t trust the handsome playful flirty barista and do not trust the cute innocent timid girl.

Concept song: Bust Your Knee Caps by Pomplamoose.

A/N: I'm so so happy to be back with a new chapter of this series. We are nearing the end guys. Only one chapter left after this one. I hope you'll enjoy it. As usual don't forget to tell me about what you thought in the comments. Feedback is everythinggg <3 -Cat 😸

Baekhyunie don’t leave me masterlist | General masterlist

<< Part 4 | Part 6 >>

It’s been a while since you visited your lovely, handsome, sweet, loving perfect boyfriend at the café. So you are particularly happy to go visit him at work today. He called you yesterday evening and told you it may be possible to see each other today. 

Most of the time Baekhyun is the busiest man you know. Between working past hours everyday, managing the deliveries and supplies, and doing the accounting of the whole café and somehow managing to switch up the specials every two weeks so the customers never get bored. It became that inside joke that he has a twin to back him up so he can catch some sleep once every full moon.

So one can say it is rare to catch your lovely boyfriend in bright daylight. Most of the time you only see him at night when he’s not drowning in paperwork or in coffee beans.

But you just love to welcome him into your apartment after a hard day’s work. The strong smell of coffee that cling to his hair mixed with his cologne and the faint sweaty musk of a hard working man. It was so comforting when you were finally able to hold him in your arms and rest your chin on his broad shoulder, your face perfectly nested in the crook of his neck.

The mere thought makes you take a deep breath as you turn at the last crossroad before Le Coeur de Séoul. 

Sadly most of the time this isn’t even possible. Most of the time Baekhyun has to go back to his appartement which, unfortunately, is too little for the both of you to meet there. Well, you’ve never actually seen it but he has told you many times that it’s actually a tiny studio with only two rooms. One bathroom and well everything else. He joked many times about not needing a fire detector because if anything burns off in the oven he practically sleeps with his head in it.

But even when he doesn’t have time to actually meet, he would always find time for you. He would call you, send you cute goodnight texts. Most of the time accompanied with a sexy picture of him. Like freshly out the shower, with soaked hair dripping down his face and with the towel resting purposely low on his hips or when working out at the gym letting the close fitted clothes hug his frame so nicely and sweat shining down his neck. 

Sometimes even more daring pictures of his... goods. That usually ends in you also sharing your own body with him. He would facetime you at 1 am and have you strip and do all kinds of dirty things to the camera for him while he would stroke himself. Your stomach jumps up just thinking back at what you did yesterday. His rough and husky voice coming out the speaker of his phone as he looked with avid eyes at you fingering yourself on his behalf.

That side of your relationship was so enticing. You were both so pasionnate about each other that it would often end exactly like that with Baekhyun asking eargerly for your nudes or even unannouced meeting in the middle of the night at your appartement where you’d have torrid sex. 

Well, actually it would always end up like this because Baekhyun was insatiable. His sex drive always demanded something from you and luckily you were up for the challenge because there was nothing you wanted more than to satisfy your man. So you complied happily every time he reached for your help to relieve himself after a stressful day of granting the customers’ every whim and getting angry on the phone with the delayed suppliers. 

And today is special! You think to yourself as you spot the store from the familiar pedestrian crossing across the street. Today officially marks your 6 months together. 6 months since that fateful late afternoon in the café. So you’re coming with a surprise. The very first time you invited him over at your place he found your dad’s rolex and he brings it up quite often. He even confessed to you how jealous he was when he thought maybe a guy you were seeing left it at your apartment. It kind of also became an inside joke between the both of you. So why not offer him a rolex? 

You went to your father’s jeweler and picked the most elegant one you could find. Not a gaudy one like the one of your father, all gold with hundreds of encrusted diamonds and a huge framing that could easily pass as a whole clock.

No, this one was perfect. It was matching Baekhyun in every way possible. The platinum bracelet had a dark grey patina that was matching the strapping of the framing while it had a pearly pine tree green background. The silver roman numbers added to the elegance of the jewel and of course the watchmaking was of the utmost standards, state of the art, the discreet little crown logo under the hand of the watch testified of its quality.

It was everything Baekhyun was: elegant, classy, manly and of course expensive. Very expensive. But Baekhyun was worth hundreds of thousands of these watches. He was invaluable. Truly the perfect gift for the perfect occasion for the perfect man.

It’s what you thought when you pushed in the doors of the rustic café and heard the familiar chime of the bell hung above the door.

You immediately spotted a blonde tuft of hair cleaning the tables at the back of the café, his large back turned towards you as he diligently wiped down the table. 

“Welcome at Le Coeur de Séoul. What can I g-” he interrupted himself when he spotted you. Immediately his eyes turned to the big rustic clock as he shuffled hastily towards you. 

“Hey Baby” he says as he wraps one arm around your waist and looks over his shoulder through the big shop window. “What are you doing here?” he says, wearing a small nervous smile. “You’re early” your eyes darted all over his handsome face.

His earring dangling with the movements of his head, the nervous brows and the half smile don’t sit right. But you brush it off.

“I just thought since it’s our six month anniverssary we should celebrate” you say in a small, almost apologetic voice.

“Oh my gosh baby” he pouts adorably and takes your frame into his big embrace. “ You’re so cute”.

“I got you something” you present the small box wrapped in discreet gray wrapping.

“Oh my sweet baby” he coos at you, enclosing his big hands around your tiny ones holding the box. “Let’s go in the back so the customers don’t bother us, okay sweetheart?” he says as he hurries you through the small back door with his hand pressed against the small of your back.

The room was cluttered and poorly lit. It was dark and narrow but you didn’t mind the atmosphere. Actually the secluded and small space felt secure, you felt safe with Baekhyun's large body pressed against you while the new delivery of coffee beans perfumed the cramped supply room with their rich aroma.

“Here” you handed him the small box while you looked at him through your lashes.

“Thank you baby girl” he huffed, his whisper bouncing off the walls of the small rooms to your ears.

As his fingers busied themselves with unwrapping the present you grew more and more anxious. Now that the moment had come you weren’t so sure about the so-called “perfection” of the gift. What if he wasn’t into watches at all? And coming to think of it, wasn’t pine tree green kind of a bold choice? Sure it compliments the brown apron pretty well and you figured he would be able to wear it everyday to work but what if he just dislikes this color? You never saw him wearing green before. Maybe there’s a good reason for it.

By the time Baekhyun opens the box your soft facial features are soaked with worry as you’re anxiously fidgeting with your fingers. 

“Baby…” he gasps, pausing in time while he covers his mouth with his palm.

“What? You know if you don’t like it we can always return it. I don't know why I picked green, honestly I just-” you ramble but Baekhyun interrupts you.

“No, baby” he looks up at you. “I love it��� you let out a big sigh of relief before beaming at him.

“Happy 6 months anniverssary” you just simply say while Baekhyun sets the box on one of the suspended shelves and hugs you once more. His cologne floats to your nose, and you close your eyes to return his embrace.

“I have a gift for you too” he whispers into your neck.

“Really?”

“Yes” you felt his lips being pulled into a smirk against the skin of your neck. And he pressed his already hardening cock onto your stomach.

For a split second you can’t help but to feel disappointed… Well, you looked for the perfect gift for weeks not to mention the price of the thing, not that you mind anyway. Of course you don’t mind, you would give up everything for him. Everything in this world. 

But it doesn’t matter if he doesn't have anything right now. But look he’s already trying to make it up to you with what he has on hand. You’re certain that it’s just the beginning! That later tonight after work he’ll take you out to a nice restaurant and get you flowers. Yeah… you’re sure of it!

His lips latch onto your skin and his hands rush from your thighs to underneath your skirt to pull down on your panties. You gasp as you feel the air brush against your already dampening folds. No matter how often or how quick Baekhyun is, he knows how to make you wet. You couldn't resist him even if you tried. 

As soon as the panties hit the floor he crouches and hangs one of your legs over his shoulder. To not lose balance you lean back onto one of the shelves, pushing away some empty cardboard boxes to make room for your hands holding on the edge of the wooden shelving.

“I’ll make you nice and ready for me babygirl” he whispers, lips flush against your folds. His warm breath lifts goosebumps on your skin and pulls a shaky gasp from your lips.

He checks the time on his brand new watch and smirks again. 

“Since you’re ealy we have a time for a quick fuck” he said before wrapping his pink lips around your already sensitive clit. You instantly feel weak at the knees when you feel his warm mouth around you. You press one hand onto your mouth to keep yourself from moaning while the other holds on for dear life on the edge of the shelf. 

“But we gotta be real quick okay baby?” he asks, briefly parting his lips from yours, looking up at you through his lashes. 

“Okay” you meekly reply, repressing a moan while Baekhyun goes down on you once more, lapping with hunger at your cunt, made shiny with your arousal and his spit.

“You’re going to be a good girl and get wet fast for me right baby” Lust laces his deep voice as he gives no rest to your already throbbing center. 

“Yes sir” you respond nodding vigorously, feeling each tease of his tongue on your swollen clit you can’t help but to moan through your fingers, muffling them as much as you can while you get soaking wet for Baekhyun. Just like he asked you, you always do your best to satisfy him and within a few seconds your thighs are coated with your juices, strings of your arousal dangling between your swollen and needy cunt and the floor while your leg resting on Baekhyun’s shoulder shake and make your panties sway on your ankles. 

You are so close to your release when Baekhyun stops. You let out a small whimper of disappointment.

“Don’t you finish by yourself you naughty little girl” Baekhyun says as he licks his lips clean.

“Yes sir” you say again but Baekhyun notices how your wet pussy clenches and throbs, so eager to be touched again, so needy for him. His eyes trail up your body and to your face. You’re flushed red, hand still pressed to your lips trying to hide away from him. He definetely loves that innocent look in your eyes, even after all these countless times he had fucked you. After he defiled your innocence and made you his toy, his cocksleeve, his play thing, after all the dirty things he forced you to say and the nasty things he got you to do… After all this you still looked like a scared little doe-eyed virgin.

He’s surely going to miss that.

He brushes his tip on your fold all the while maintaining steady eye contact with you. He presses his dick against your entrance and you gasp when you feel the pleasurable and familiar feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate the thick head of his cock. You’re still amazed at how you still feel slight, dull pain from how big he is. But you love that feeling, the satisfaction of knowing you’re squeezing his cock so thighly that has to bite his lips every time he enters you.

“Shit baby you’re so fucking tight for me” he groans as he keeps pushing himself in until he reaches the bottom of you, thick and long cock completely nested inside your warm and wet insides. 

“Now what do you say baby?” he asks, still looking at you dead in the eyes. He smirks when you whimper cutely, embarrassment and shame painting your cheeks bright pink and anticipation making sweat drip down your temples. 

“Please fuck me Sir” you moan in a soft whimper and Baekhyun’s smirk grows wider.

“Good girl” he praises while he pulls out slowly until only the tip is still inside and he smashes himself back violently. Instantly your hand that was covering your mouth flies to the edge of the shelf to keep you balanced because the thrust is so powerful that you have to use both hands to make sure you don’t crumble to the ground.

Baekhyun fucks you like never before. He gives your poor cunt no rest, thrusting in and out with long strokes that all aimed straight at your sweet spot. You can’t keep your voice down anymore and start to scream under the overwhelming pleasure. 

Baekhyun presses his large palm onto your mouth but keep on pounding you with the hellish pace he settled.

“Shhhh… Keep quiet my baby” he whispers before grunting in your ear, driving himself closer to his release. 

Only muffled moans, grunts and the sound of wet skin clashing fill the room. One lewd and melodious symphony.

Usually you have to ask Baekhyun for permission before cumming but this time you can't as he’s silencing you, his palm makes it impossible to say a word. But he picks up on your state of desperation as your cunt violently clenches arounds his thick and twitching cock. 

“You want to cum baby?” he asks panting, lust darkening his gaze to a color you very much love. You nod tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. “Yeah?”

“Hmmhmm” you try to answer positively but Baekhyun slows down.

“What if I put a baby in your belly so you never forget about me? Huh?” he asks, suddenly the thought of baring Baekhyun’s children comes to you and you can’t help but to clench on his dick even harder.

“Oh baby. Do you like that ? You became even tighter” he says while going ever so slightly faster. “I’ll make you pregnant with my child” he said, his voice being merely an animalistic grunt. “You’re gonna cum on my cock and take my sperm?” he says as he takes his hand off your mouth.

“Yes please Sir” you beg instantly, doing your best to keep your voice down. Baekhyun goes back to the punishing pace. He fucks you deep and hard, pulling and pushing on your walls clenched around him trying to milk him dry.

“Take my fucking cum and get pregnant” he groans with one last porwerful thrust smashing right on your g spot. You cum around his cock and the crushing weight of your orgasm sweeps you away as you bite down on your bottom lip, being as silent as possible like you promised. 

Baekhyun delivers what feels like gallons of cum while his tip is pressed to your cervix, directly serving his fertile cum to your hungry womb. Each throb of your orgasming pussy earning one big squirt of thick cum from his hard cock. 

When Baekhyun slips out of you the last forces that were holding you down on the shelf just leave you and you collapse to your knees while your filled cunt just desperately twitches, already missing Baekhyun’s cock. 

Baekhyun quickly grabs a clean rag and wipes himself down while you collect yourself and put your panties back in place to secure Baekhyun’s anniversary gift inside your womb.

When you are both fully clothed again he checks the time again. He looks worried somehow and you start to wonder why he isn’t holding you in his arms like he always does. Why his eyes seem to avert yours. And why he’s constantly checking the time.

“Baekhyunie…” you start as you wrap your hands around his bigger ones. Your eyes look for his. Your heart is racing against your ribs. “I…” you can't believe you’re about to say this but you have to. You have to let him know what kind of feeling have been bubbling in your chest months and months ago. Ever since you stepped inside the coffee shop for the very first time. Ever since the very first time your eyes landed on this warm and welcoming blonde barista with the cute pouty smile and the distinctive dangling earring. That fateful day the bell above the door rang and chimed like your heart. A feeling you haven’t felt ever since your mom passed away.

If you were the person that you are today it was thanks to him. Baekhyun made you feel alive again. He made you want to better yourself. Made you want to be the best woman you could be for him. Just for his sake. You’d go to hell and back for him and you had this urge to let him know. To let him know that he didn’t need to doubt you in any way that you were devoted to him and only him forever until your last breath.

“Baekhyunie… I love you”

There. 

You said it.

But Baekhyun lets go of your hands, letting them fall at your side. He ripped his gaze from yours and just stood there silent.

Panic started to rush through your body and your throat felt dry. Your heart beat even louder in your chest but this time it was out of sheer terror. Why wouldn't he say it back? Why was he staying silent ?

“Sorry …” he started hesitantly. “But I think we should break up”

For a second you didn’t even catch the full meaning of those words put together. For you these words couldn't possibly be in the same sentence next to each other. It didn’t make sense because it was simply not possible.

But as the heavy silence fell between you, you realized what Baekhyun truly meant.

“What?” you whispered feverishly, the word almost getting stuck in your tight and dry throat.   

“I think we should see other people” he said, usual warm honey toned voice as cold and biting as winter winds.

You couldn’t even cry or talk or move or do anything at all for that matter. You were stunned. You stayed there, wide eyes desperately looking for the warmth in Baekhyun’s orbs but they were as glacial as his voice, as his words and as his heart.

Baekhyun gently placed his hand on your back, delicately pressing it to guide you out of the storage room. Mechanically your feet activated and placed themselves in front of each other until you suddenly found yourself in front of the entrance, right under the bell above the door. 

“You know I had something really special with you” he said as blankly as possible. “Thank you again for the watch every time I’ll look at it I’ll think of you” he leaned in and kissed your forehead which made your eyes snap back at him. This simple touch, this last straw of affection from the man you loved more than anything finally made you snap. Tears started to fill your eyes and blurred your vision but everything you wanted to say was getting caught in your throat. Your bleeding heart was crying for help inside your chest, desperately trying to win Baekhyun back by hammering against your ribs.

Your thoughts were knotted and incoherent, your brain couldn’t process what was happening. It couldn’t handle the desperation, the confusion, the disillusionment and the loss. This grieving pain clawing at your unarmed and helpless soul. This feeling of abandonment chewing up and tearing your heart with its sharp teeth before spitting it out and leaving it in the cold to rot all alone.

None of this could be real.

“Why?” you asked in a broken up whisper, weak voice quavering, on the verge of tears.

But Baekhyun only answered with a pitied half smile. Throwing one last look at the big wooden clock before opening the door for you. The usually happy chiming of the bell sounded somber. It seemed to be mocking you, ringing the death knell of this thing you thought to be a relationship; burying the immeasurable love you felt for this man.

And you walked out. As simply as that you just walked out.

When you turned around to look one last time at him you saw another woman come in. You didn’t pay much attention to her until she walked right past the counter and directly onto the arms of Baekhyun. Your crumbled up heart was already weeping but it exploded when Baekhyun swiftly removed the watch to slip it in his back pocket and leaned in to kiss the beautiful woman.

You heard it. You swear you heard it. You heard your heart physically being shattered in thousands of sharp pieces. You felt real physical, tangible pain, tearing through the already atrophied muscle and ripping open a gaping hole in your chest, letting the cool wind of the late summer chill your bones.

You will never forget the expression on his face when he looked at her. Smiling so genuinely. His eyes overflowing with something you had never seen. A sentiment he only poorly mimicked when he looked at you before. But did he fool you! The whole act had got you wrapped around his fingers, your naivete making you credulous and believing all of his sweet lies. But now you see it clear because he never ever looked at you this way. 

The dilated pupils of his brown orbs as warm as summer, drooping in adoration, round cheeks made rose by an accelerated heart rate gently rising in a pure smile. 

The look of love.

Tag list:  @lovebuginlove@calamell @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika@making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @nana-banana @mingiandbaconjam @chanyeolscoon@buttercupbbh@shesdreaminginoverdose@jennxx3@byuntrash-ficrec@pvtbbh@bimbimbbam@xzyxbbh@thegreatandi@multistan30@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@jave-05-little-doll@yutornado@lazyvird@akrmn @jeonzil @jamjamxx56 @deredere-coffee

Tell me if want to be added/removed

A/N: Soo i guess the secret is out now. We know why Baekhyun was sus since the beginning!! Stay tuned for next chapter to see how OC will react... I cannot wait to show youu!!!

Baekhyunie don’t leave me masterlist | General masterlist

<< Part 4 | Part 6 >>

#baekhyun smut #exo smut #exowritersnet #bbh-net #kpop smut #baekhyun ff #baekhyun fanfic #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #smut #exo fanfic #baekhyun #exo x reader #baekhyun angst #exo angst #exo mafia au #baekhyun fic

[ycurkxng-a]

Dropped On Me Like A Fucking Piano!

Characters: (Payday) Dean King, Bain, Tony Montana, Sydney King (not related lmfao), Jimmy

Warnings: Murder, needles

It was supposed to be a simple heist, and it was!

A simple run through a nightclub, something about Vlad wanting revenge. Hell if King knew what it was about, even if Bain had been telling them about it even on the way to the joint. Dean didn't pay attention, rather focusing on making sure that he had enough ammo for the job.

Now that could've been it, they found the safe, drilled it open and then left with the goods inside, but King had wanted to go and search the rest of the building while they had time in between the cops attacks. He sped through the place, stepping over corpses the entire time, it was a mess of their own design.

Looting and shooting through the place was easy, they'd fought their way through in pairs. It made the endeavour finding the safe they needed to bust open just a little bit faster, Jimmy and Sydney had actually been the ones to find it. It was loudly announced through their comms, enthusiasm filling his voice.

One after the other, the few cops that came in were quickly disposed of with a spray of bullets from Kings AK. Each corner was rounded carefully, even if most of them had nothing but whimpering civilians behind them, those of which were quickly hushed.

After getting through the kitchen and walking into the small gambling den, the heister caught sight of easy cash. Wads of bills were thrown around the table carelessly, it was enough of a lure to make him stop and lower his rifle into one hand so he could begin pocketing the loose money. Over the blaring music and the sound of his heart pounding in his chest, he wasn't able to hear the heavy footsteps that were quickly coming through the hall to the other entrance.

King only noticed the hulking figure in the doorway by the time it was too late, his eyes slowly went up to catch sight of the visor, a skull painted over the entire face.

Fucking dozer.

In a blind panic, he desperately tried to pull his gun up to start shooting. By the time he'd even brought the barrel up to his thigh however, the special had already racked his shotgun and taken aim at his chest. In a split second- he fired, the blast ringing out and reaching the others immediately as pellets flew.

Those very pellets went straight into the criminals vest, the force of them knocking him backwards and back into the kitchen, where he slammed against an oven with a loud grunt. Not even a second after, he could hear crackling through his earpiece, accompanied by a panicked Bain shouting out.

"King needs help, pronto!"

It felt as if flames were ripping through Kings chest while he sat there, the act of breathing alone was impossible. It was as if his lungs had tightened, all attempts at breathing only induced more agonizing pain to sear through his being. In other words, he got the wind knocked out of him. He was lucky that it hadn't completely ripped through him and turned his insides into swiss cheese, although that did seem preferable due to the obvious.

"Ones down," The dozer spoke through his own earpiece, "I don't know where the others are th-" Sudden shrieking made him go quiet and turn to look at the source, the source being Kings favorite coked up maniac, and his savior. Jimmy cackled out as he took aim at the visor that guarded the juggernauts soft head with his machine guns, just before letting a hail of bullets fly out of the gun and directly into that same visor.

There was shouting from both parties, Jimmy was incoherently throwing curses at the enemy while the dozer screamed out curses.. at the enemy, more so in fear than anything, which was a shock to hear, but it wasn't long before only one of them continued to be able to shout. As the dozers visor cracked and shattered, the lead pierced his skull and put him down.

His body fell onto the floor with a loud thud and clang, giving King a sense of relief as he turned to meet Jimmy's masked gaze. "Fuckin' hell, you look like shit, mate!" He panted out, "You're not gonna die on me are you?"

Silence followed, the only noise being the sounds of King desperately trying to bring air into his lungs and failing, which was noticed by Jimmy quickly. "Thats... HEY! ARE YOU GONNA FUCKING DIE?!" The cokehead screamed, as if King couldn't hear him at a normal volume.

"H...urt.." King finally managed to wheeze out, it took Jimmy a few seconds to understand him before nodding. "YEAH, I KINDA GOT THAT-"

"D'fucks goin' on?!" Scarface shouted, entering the kitchen, eyes widening as he caught sight of the grizzly scene. Sydney followed in after him, breathing in sharply as she too looked around. There was a second of quiet as Sydney and Tony put together the pieces as to what happened, the dead dozer, the loose cash in Kings pockets. Christ. "Fuck me- King, are jou with us?"

Since Kings head could turn to Tony, that gave him the sign he needed that he was still alive. "Fuck, okay, I got something for jou." He mumbled, reaching into his suits breast pocket and taking out his injector, filled with adrenaline. Everyone had seen him use it a dozen times, but there was only one other person he'd used it on- and that had been Jacket. That had been a desperate situation, much like this one.

Tony set down his rifle to use both gloved hands, one pulled down Kings collar further so he could inject him, and the other hand did. The needle sunk into his pec, and the adrenaline was shot straight into him, causing his eyes to open wide and air to flow into his lungs once more. He jolted forward which forced Tony's hands back, the injector still stabbed into him.

His breathing was uneven and heavy, almost panicked. Tony grabbed onto his shoulder, holding him in place. "Give it a bit, 'dat rush is like a fuckin' truck, mane." He explained, sitting there with King as he tried to pull himself together. Pain seemed to be non-existent, his hands shook violently, Jesus, he'd felt adrenaline before but nothing this severe and sudden.

Moments ticked by, each valuable second before the next assault made Sydney and Jimmy check the entrances just in case there were any other specials or cops coming towards them. In any case, there were none, which gave King all the time needed to get himself under control. He looked down at the injector, still in his flesh. His right hand reached up and pulled it out, before passing it back to the kingpin. "Jou good?"

King nodded, starting to get up while grabbing his AK off of the floor. "I'm good.." He confirmed, adjusting his mask with one hand. His wounds would still have to be looked at and tended to after the heist, but for now he needed to fight.

Convenient timing, as Bain once again chimed in through their comms.

"You got some bad cops coming in, get ready!"

"TOOK THOSE PIGGYS LONG ENOUGH!" Jimmy laughed, reloading his akimbo smgs before running out of the kitchen. "LETS FUCKING GO LADS!" He called out in the distance, his footsteps growing quieter as the music overtook it. King pulled the magazine out of his AK to check the amount of ammo he had left, enough was the answer. Sydney left the room, muttering something about "don't get fucked up again" as she did.

Tony turned to look at the dead dozer and back at King, only giving him a nod before walking out himself. Now alone, King slid the magazine back in and primed the rifle. It was time to get even with the bastards, he'd take them all down if he could. He could already hear the shouting from the incoming swat, to one another and at his fellow heisters before the firefight, as much as he wanted to sit down and let himself rest for a bit, he knew he couldn't.

Knowing that, he took hold of his AK in both hands and rushed out to join the others in their shootout with the police. They weren't able to kill him, not yet. Maybe in the future they could, but not now.

Not when they were fucking with the Payday gang.

#something productive. thats rare for you ;art + drabbles; #CODENAME: KING ;Payday;

[roryfuckedurmum]

Daddy Issues

Chapter 4: Reflecting Light

Things go back to normal at Hogwarts. For now at least.

Warnings: Hella angst

MASTERLIST

No bliss could truly last forever.

Monday rolled around and the two woke up, in separate beds in separate wings of the castle, feeling more alone than either had in their many years of sleeping alone. y/n decided that the world was not worth dealing with. At least not at seven in the morning and so she decided to allow herself to drift back off to sleep. Potions was a shit class anyway, all she did was piss off professor Snape, which took valuable learning time away from the students actually interested in the subject, she thought as she attempted to justify skipping the class to herself.

Remus however, was not so lucky as his payed role as a teacher meant the only way he could get out of an early morning was by feigning lines and going down to the hospital wing. What was the point of skipping work if he couldn't do what he wanted with the time he had given himself. Of course all he really wanted to do was see y/n but he knew he had her class later in the day and was sure she would give him the justification he needed win order to give her a detention without seeming suspicious. As much as he liked her she did differ from him in the sense that she found entertainment in terrorising her teachers in the form of disruption.

When y/n eventually reawoke from her sleep, she decided to walk down to the common room, forgetting that all she was wearing was the shirt and boxers she had stolen from Remus in the guise of wanting something to remember him by. Lupin had reminded her that they would see each other in class the next day, however y/n had just started humming as loud as she could while he tried to explain this. She noticed, about halfway down the stairs, what she was wearing, but after checking her watch and seeing class was still in session, she decided that she would be fine as there would be no one in the common room to see her anyway.

This conclusion however was quickly proved false as she walked through the entrance to see none other than the Weasley twins waiting for her.

Laughing their little orange heads off as they saw what y/n was wearing, she knew that she had been thoroughly busted.

"Who's are the threads then Jezzie?" Fred asked

"The fact that you call them threads means that I don't have to dignify that with a response." she replied, trying to hide the soft giggle she let out "Why are you calling me Jezzie anyway?"

"Because if you haven't taken those clothes from us, your most dear of friends, then you've obviously got them from whatever poor man you've entangled with your womanly charms" George said before adding "Jezebel"

"I've been awake for too short a time to deal with your bullshit, go get me a coffee." she said, turning the book next to her into a mug using a trick she had learnt from Mcgonnagal on one of the few occasions in which she was paying attention in transfiguration.

"Hey! That was my potions book!" George exclaimed

"You'll get it back when I've finished the coffee you're going to get me." she said, conveniently leaving out the fact that it would still be in mug form as she hadn't paid attention to the part of the transfiguration lesson in which they were taught how to reverse the transformation.

George reluctantly went down to the kitchen, where the group had made a deal with the house elves that they could use the kitchen for coffees, teas, and cakes, as long as they used their magic to repair whatever broke in the kitchen. Surprisingly, even in the wizarding world the paper work it took to get a new oven door, or some damp removed from the ceiling, was barely worth the effort.

y/n and Fred sat down together on the large couch in front of the fireplace as they waited for George to come back.

"Seriously though," he began "Is there someone you're seeing because you know you can tell us no matter what. We'll keep it a secret."

"You promise?" she looked at him for reassurance

"I promise." Fred said, sounding sincere for one of the first times in his life.

Just as Fred flicked his wand to light the warming fire, George came back into the room, handing y/n her coffee, in the mug that was once his textbook, as he sat down next to her, leaving her in what she liked to call the marmalade sandwich as she was sandwiched between the two redheaded twins.

"So is she gonna tell us who she's sleeping with?" George asked

"She is the cats mother you prick." she laughed as she playfully slapped the boy beside her. "Only if you promise not to tell anyone."

"My lips are sealed." He said, while dramatically pretended to zip up his mouth.

"So it's a professor..." y/n began before being interrupted by the dramatised gasps of the boys to either side of her "And he knew my dad."

"Tell us it's not Snape." Fred said as he feigned lightheadedness, lifting a hand to his head.

"Why in the absolute fuck would I want anything to do with that cockblocking greaseball.?" she almost shouted

"Well you obviously wanted to keep it secret from us for a reason." George chimed in

"Jesus fucking Christ, it's Lupin!" She said, skin still crawling at the thought of letting Snape anywhere near her.

"Oh" "My" "God" the twins said, alternating.

"Chill for fucks sakes." Y/n responded "Anyway." she put down her empty mug, "We're gonna be late for dark arts."

"Of course you wouldn't want to miss Lupin's class." the boys teased as she ascended the stairs to her dorm.

Walking to their next class with Professor Lupin, the twins would not stop teasing her for her choice of, as they so antiquatedly called it, bedfellow. Walking into that classroom felt like entering a safe haven to her, as she had explained that there was to be no mention of her relationship in that class, lest Remus hear and get upset with her for telling them.

As she sat down in her usual spot, between her two best friends and mere feet from Lupin's own desk, she felt like something was wrong. Remus stood to begin the lesson and she tried her best to capture the man's attention. At first it was small things, listening to his lecture, answering his questions but as those tactics proved useless, she moved on to her usual methods of disruption.

Still. Nothing.

The man who had shared his bed with her, who had laid his insecurities bare to her would now not even look her in the eye. Something was wrong.

By the time that class was finished, he still hadn't taken the bait, causing her to have to stay behind, shooing off Fred and George's concern for her to force Remus to listen to her.

"What the fuck is going on?" she asked him, sounding more confrontational than she intended.

"This can't happen, you know that" Lupin finally broke the silence between them

"What is this? Is it you lycanthropy? Is it your Job?" she responded

"Go to your next class." is all he said

"Not until you tell me why you won't even look me in the eye!"

"I said go. I'm your teacher, not your friend."

He looked her in the eye for the first time that day and in it, she saw nothing but ice. He was serious about this.

Later that evening, after managing to avoid Fred and George for the rest of the day, not wanting to recount what had happened earlier that day, she found herself standing at the top of the astronomy tower, the wind blowing through her hair as she reflected the light so cooly coating her as sent from the surface of the moon.

She felt peaceful, and simultaneously like wars were being fought in the space behind her eyes. She needed to leave.

y/n had always reacted too harshly to simple things and knew that she needed some time to herself so that she could gather her thoughts without spiralling.

And so she apparatus to the only other place that had ever felt like home.

[cervidaedalus]

I moved here in a haste because I needed to move out of my previous place and kept having zero luck on roommate apps, all scam or creepo interractions on CList, and I don't have a FB (which I guess is where most of the roomies wanted stuff is. I was super happy at first. It had a great view, I was living with another east coast trans guy, I had a lot of ambition for decorating the place, the proximity to my job, doctor's office, and favourite cafe was so convenient. Then it all went RAPIDLY downhill with little things snowballing and big things popping up.

Upstairs housemate is pregnant by her boyfriend of less than half a year. She doesn't speak English so I can't ask her what's going on and I feel like there's more to this than I'm aware of (but at the same time don't want to be dragged into something). She lost her job "because pregnant" which is SO FUCKING ILLEGAL. We do NOT have the space and she just... I guess expected to magically find a place to go? But she doesn't even seem to be putting in the effort to look for work (at least from what I can tell) and it's only going to become more difficult the longer she waits. Her boyfriend was over at least once a week or I could hear her talking to him on the phone, but seems to be MIA and honestly I'm reeling in horror for her while simultaneously angry at the level of irresponsibility that will eventually involve an actual human life.

Downstairs housemate seems to not even care. He's been the one who has neglected dishes in the upstairs kitchen for weeks and then "forgot" they're his and made the upstairs housemate do them when I asked if those dishes could be cleaned out. He's left the oven on multiple times. Left the door wide open this morning. He's flaked on me so many times over getting into the laundry room that I said "fuck it" and got a wheeled laundry bag to take down to the laundromat.

He sure seems to care when it SPECIFICALLY impacts him though. -I've been blamed for the cat smell up here which is 100% a case of olfactory fatigue from him being up here constantly to try and clean it before renting out the room. It smells in places under the furniture she can't get to. It's from a previous renter who had two cats he just set free when he moved out. -He's paranoid about losing his benefits (rightly so) to such a degree that he's insisting I pay rent in cash and refusing to give me a rental agreement (which means receipts for my cash payments will probably also be a no). -The other night he tried to coerce me to let him take my PS4 out of the shared living room and into his locked studio apartment downstairs just so he could watch a movie and when I asked why it needed to leave the living room got a snarky, "because that's where I am and where my TV is" like this entitled him to removing someone else's 400$ electronics from a shared space just because he doesn't wanna be in the shared space.

There's an incomprehensible amount of inability to maintain basic cleanliness. -The toilet was flooded and water was just... left there until I found it an hour later. -We have TWO vacuums that were either way overfilled, used as a shop-vac, or both and are busted. -The sink strainer was removed and put in the cabinet so people could just throw their compost into the drain despite both a garbage can AND disposal, blocking it when I went to do dishes. -Upstairs housemate bought two gallons of milk before she was finished her previous gallon: 1gal and two 1/2 gal. The half gallons expired May 5th and only one got used by that time (the other is half used and in the door), the gallon expired May 1 and is still unopened. -The trashcan kept being filled beyond full while I was at work without even being tied off and set aside.

On top of all this, I never saw the lease, never met the landlord, don't see the utility/internet bills before I pay them and at this point am afraid to ask. I was told I could bring my cat here and then told when it became an issue (being blamed for the cat smell) that actually there's a no pets policy. Who even knows if myself and the other housemate are a violation of the lease too.

I was red with rage the other day. He said rent needs to be paid in cash because twice I'd asked for a rental agreement as its the only thing I can use to prove residency to open an account with the local credit union. I was asked about my Chime online bank "Isn't that a bank?" told him yes, but I need to get to a physical place to get that much cash. He then told me I should be able to open an account with just ID and SS card, I told him I'm aware, but I specifically need a CREDIT UNION. He then came back with "If you don't pay cash I'll be charging you ATM fees" as if the back-and-forth was me refusing to get cash and not me asking for licherally a single piece of paper saying I live here and pay rent so I can get said cash.

I even said I would provide him a pen and paper so he could write it, then I'd type and print it at work and bring it back to sign. He came upstairs to deal with a couple other things, took the pen and paper and...

It's been four days and I've received diddly shit.

And it doesn't really matter at this point if he's forgotten or is deliberately trying to avoid it because if it's the former, I can't rely on him to remember I paid, and if it's the latter, he'll likely refuse to sign a rental receipt which then cycles back to the other point. I'm just so fuckin' tired and want to live in a place with people who are communicative, clean, and honest...

[ask-hannah-blog]

Hey, big update on me and Rah-Rah (my goblin crush) :

I followed you and Jen-Jen's advice to the letter, including the little tease the night before the party and MAN you could tell that fired her up. Usually I'd say that outside of special events, her clothing is "conservative" for Goblin standards, but she went all out on her cosplay for the party. We were dressed up as our characters and she was just... wow. I mean, I know goblins get a rep for being nasty little gremlins with an ugly cute thing going on. But Rah-Rah that night? She was gorgeous, drop-dead gorgeous. I wish I could have kissed her on the spot and just embraced her. Anyway I kinda kept the teasing game on for a bit longer at the party, we danced a bit together and started chatting about what we were gonna do after the party. She actually brought up going back to my place! Said something about "catching up on that show we were watching".

Yeah, right, she was doing everything she could to not rub herself in front of me and she was blushing like mad. I told her I had a surprise home actually, and that she'd have to wait and see what I had "cooked up". I think she started drooling a bit and she kinda just stared at me with her big ol goblin eyes for a second, making some kinda weird gargling sound. Now normally at the party that would've been about the time when we were supposed to do a LARP event with everyone else, but she went ahead and let our DM know that we had some "personal business" back home to attend to. She was fuck horny at this point so I think our DM friend kinda knew what she meant by that, lol.

Anyways she practically jumps into my arms and asks me if I can carry her back to my house, I gently remind her that we carpooled to the party so we're gonna have to take the bus and she starts pawing at my chest saying she "didn't mind the long walk". So basically the whole I was carrying her (no biggie, she's basically as heavy as a toddler) she used that as an excuse to nibble me and fool around with me as much as she could without literally tearing my clothes off on in the middle of the street. I get home and you can smell the feast I had prepared for her from the door. At this point, she was drooling and drooled on my keys as I took them out of my pocket. I open the door and she can see the living room table splayed out with all the food.

She straight up leaped from my arms to the table and started gorging herself on all the stuff I had there. She's so distracted by the food that she doesn't see me go to the kitchen and get the turkey in the oven. I hear a loud burp a few minutes later and I see she already finished off all the food I had on the table. She's about to say something when the oven dings. I think her nipples got hard from that. Anyway, she does me the immense favor of not busting my oven open and waits for me to finish the "Piece of resistance". I work my magic on it (you don't work at your uncle's barn for years without picking up some of that good old-fashioned cooking) and reveal it to her. I think her brain short-circuited for a second because she was drooling, moaning, and crying all at the same time. Then something crazy happens. She actually asked me to split it with her! It's not that she's running out of space, believe me. She just wanted to enjoy it with me! It was the first time I had ever seen her take her time with food. Usually, she'd gulp anything down in seconds (I once saw her work through a chocolate bar in exactly 3 seconds). Short of using a knife and fork she was practically eating like humans do. Not quite capable of eating half a turkey all on my own after the stuff I already ate at the party, I hand-feed her my leftovers. At that point she was basically fondling herself while I fed her, it was pretty hot.

Of course, at that point, she definitely wanted to properly fuck so I take her up to my bedroom when she stops me for a second. Two crazy things happened. First, she went to my bathroom to wash her face off from all the food stains on it, and then she dug into the little clothes hamper she brought for herself when she came over. She shows me a little two-piece bikini with great pride and puts it on. Apparently, it's one of the only outfits from her human days she can still wear as a goblin. She confesses that she wanted to ask me out a while ago but was afraid that she would mess it up if she tried to do it the human way. I'll skip the details of what happened in the bedroom but let's just say I hadn't had a fuck of that nature in many many years. Or ever, actually. Goblin sex is wild. So yeah. It was a good night. She's happy, I'm happy.

We called her parents and will do what we can to help her move in properly soon. I wanna make sure she can feel like herself with me, both as Rah-Rah the goblin and "Roxanne", her parent's little princess. Thanks for the advice, Hannah, and Jen-Jen. I would have never had the balls to do any of this if it wasn't for both of you. Rah-Rah says thanks too, and to give Jen-Jen a kiss for her. That's all from me, happy Halloween everyone.

Oh em gee! I did it! I’m the love doctor fer sure!

That is such a cute story, so in love with it. Love you hand feeding her. So hot! She’ll be a little fatty in no time! Hehe!

The only bad thing is that you didn’t write about the sex. Cause that was a lot of words for no sex. So I’ll do it for you!

I assume he had a sitting reverse cowgirl situation going on. She’s on your lob, big flappy goblin va Jay jay dripping lube on your dick like a soft serve machine. You have your hands on her buns, squeezing them as you life her up, and slide her down your pole!

Omg! So romantic! And she’s squealing and you’re just grunting like an ape going bam bam bam! Lifting her up, dropping her down. She feels like a toy in your hands, and she’s just getting pulled up and down meat mountain and doesn’t know which way iz up!

Mmmm hehe gooey!

Hehe

Anywho, I dunno.

Yeaaaaaaaaaa! Love love!

I’ll give Jen-Jen a biiiiiiig ol kiss! Congrats!

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Hey 👋

I swear I'm addicted to your writing😁 Thank you for the amazing post❤

Can I request a usually calm reader coming home to Hanni and Wil with n bruise on their cheek and/or blue knuckles from n fight. And when they question reader they find out reader defended their relationship.

Or

Them reacting to reader with cigarette burn scars from childhood or self harm scars.

Sorry if it's specific I had a dream about the first one and I'm insecure about my scars😅 Also if it makes you uncomfy ignore me🤣

Have a wonderful day/night/afternoon💕

Hey anon, sorry it took me a hot minute to get to this. Hope you enjoy!

Gender neutral y/n comes home covered in bruises. Their lovers Hannibal and Will need to know why.

trigger warnings: blood, threats of violence, mention of firearms, stalking

You spit a mouthful of blood into the snow before you even thought about turning the doorknob. Any random passerby would look at you and think you were attempting to rob the place. You couldn't say you disagreed, though: your hood was pulled over your head and you held a tire iron in your singular non-bleeding hand.

You knew it wasn't wise to let the old-money Baltimore socialites catch you in such a compromising position, but you had to double-check your mental map of the house one more time. Hannibal would undoubtedly be cooking; hopefully so in his element that he wouldn't notice you slipping by. Will was the one you had to worry about. When it came to you, he'd become as alert as a German shepherd with protective instincts to match. Where he was in the house was anyone's guess, so you needed to be on guard.

You removed your heavy boots and opted to leave them outside. You then tossed the tire iron behind a nearby planter and slowly, quietly turned the knob. The door creaked as it opened, making you cringe. The sight of neither of your partners immediately running up on you was a bit of a relief; you hadn't been discovered quite yet.

You just needed to make it upstairs so you could barricade yourself in the master bathroom and use that oh-so-rare sliver of privacy to cover up your bruises. Then you could climb down the trellis, grab your shoes and make a proper entrance with hello kisses and whatnot.

"[F/N]?" Hannibal called out before you could even breach the threshold.

With no thought on your mind other than "fuck", you turned your head away from the direction you heard him. "Yeah, I'm home."

"I'd rush to give you a kiss, but I'm a little tied up at the moment." He said, undoubtedly grinning to himself as he trussed a chicken with sturdy cooking wire. "So you'll have to come to me."

"Oh, yeah." You called back. "Let me just get cleaned up first."

"If you insist." He said with a dramatic dip in his voice. "But hurry right back. Dinner is almost ready."

Hurdle one was cleared. Now all you had to do was clear the second, much higher hurdle.

You ascended the stairs, but forgot to skip that one consistently creaky step that always alerted the dogs. A small army of dogs came pouring into the upstairs hallway, blocked only by the baby gate Hannibal had installed as a compromise. Enthusiastic barks filled the foyer as you desperately tried to calm them down from the top step.

"Winston! Max! Harley!" You rattled off as many names as you could remember. "Hush, please!"

"[F/N]?" Will said, turning the corner.

You momentarily considered throwing yourself down the stairs. It would be easier to explain the bruises and you could still soak up that sweet, sweet throuple affection without having to tell a story that even you didn't entirely believe. Common sense, however, kept your feet firmly on the ground.

Will appeared in your line of sight. You pulled the brim of your hat down and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "I, uh- forgot how to open the gate again."

The dogs parted in Will's path and he looked at you with suspicion as he effortlessly opened the gate. "Is everything okay?"

You turned your head to the side. "I'm fine. It's just really cold outside."

"I'm sure those wet clothes aren't helping." Will cocked his head. "We can start by throwing that hoodie in the dryer-"

Before you could pull away, he pushed your hood and your hat off in one fluid motion. He knew what was going on.

"I'm no doctor, but I don’t think busted noses and black eyes are side effects of low body temperature." He said, folding his arms.

You put your hand up, unintentionally revealing the bruises on your knuckles. "You learn something new every day."

You tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

"[F/N]--" Will said, a blistering fury beginning to percolate in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

"I ran into a bus stop." You lied, not even trying to make it sound believable.

"That bus wouldn't have happened to be headed to Dacula, would it?"

Your silence spoke louder than any excuse you could think of.

Will sighed. "Right. I think I know what happened."

"Will, I-" you protested.

"Save it for dinner." He scolded. "I'm sure Hannibal would love to hear this."

You'd been found out it was much worse than anticipated. You felt like you were on trial, which, given the circumstances, you could have actually been on trial in a real court of law on the charge of aggravated assault. However, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Hannibal demanded an explanation and couldn't wait until dinner. He was willing to let one of his culinary masterpieces burn in the oven, knowing of course that a much rarer delicacy was in the cards once you gave him a name.

He brushed his finger over an open cut under your eye. A light click of his tongue reached your ears as he examined your face.

"Give us a name, love." Hannibal probed, holding your jaw between his fingers and following the trail of bruises down your neck. "Who did this to you?"

"It's not a big deal, really." You assured him, squirming against his grip. "I started it."

"Now that, I find hard to believe." Hannibal contested. "You're not a preemptive strikes kind of person."

"Nor would you go all the way to Dacula to throw a few punches." Will added, approaching you with an ice pack.

"Okay, so maybe I finished it." You corrected.

Hannibal smiled proudly to himself. "That's more like it."

"What exactly did you finish?" Will asked, gently placing the ice against your bruised knuckles.

You sighed. You mentioned Dacula once and they already knew the answer. They were just waiting to hear you say it.

"My ex-boyfriend, Sidney." You leaned back on your one good wrist. "He was a being a completely irredeemable shit, as usual-"

"Details, darling." Hannibal said in too singsongy of a voice than was really appropriate while wrapping your hand in gauze.

"Acting entitled, talking like I belonged to him-"

"You have no idea how little that narrows it down." Will shook his head.

You were compelled to agree, but couldn't bring yourself to admit that and the fact that you ever dated Sidney in the first place. "Right."

"That isn't out of character for him." Hannibal said.

"And certainly not enough to make you willingly drive back out to cousinfuck nowhere to beat him up." Will finished.

"I didn't go out there with the intent to beat him up!" You contested. "He said that if I could meet him for coffee he'd never speak to me again. I know it's a lot of gas money, but I really was gonna hold him to the whole 'never speaking to me again' bit."

"So what happened?" Will asked, growing impatient.

You looked at the ground, embarrassment stopping the words at the tip of your tongue.

"Somehow, he caught a whiff of our... arrangement." You tightened your hands into frustrated fists. "And he made some really shitty comments about... you."

Hannibal and Will exchanged looks. They let the silence linger, urging you to fill it.

"He went into obscene detail about how mmf threesomes are his favorite category of porn," you tried not to gag as you recalled the disgusting details. "And then said if I 'let him watch', he wouldn't tell the local baptist church that I was a whore-"

"The man is a pig." Hannibal said, matter-of-factually.

"I got up to leave." You continued. "Obviously. Then he said he knew where you lived. Announced it to the whole diner. Started to go through his list of semiautomatic weapons. So to make sure he knew I meant business-"

"You threw the first punch." Hannibal finished the thought for you.

You nodded. "Naturally."

Will smiled to the floor and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I would have loved to see that."

"As much as it pains me to say," Hannibal began, resignedly agreeing. "It's only fair that you stand up for us the way we stand up for you. From time to time."

Will brought your bruised knuckles to his lips. "Though we desperately need to teach you how to dodge. Because the next time you come home covered in scratches, someone will pay."

You took both of their hands. "I should get beat up more often."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal nbc #will graham x reader #will graham #will graham x you #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x you #poly hannigram #hannigram #hannigram x reader #anon request #anon ask

[djarrex]

Pretty please can we have something where Echo and TBB find out Rex and reader are expecting? Bonus points for Omega's reaction cause I wonder sometimes whether she knows much about the natural way babies are made? I figure she wouldn't have need of that information in the Kaminoans' eyes.

I wanna preface this by expressing the joy I feel and the appreciation I have when you guys come into my inbox asking or wanting to talk about Post-Order 66 Rex and fam. I love it SO MUCH you have no idea :’)

So, if you remember, Hunter was briefly in Insatiable and has a couple lines of dialogue - he even congratulates them on the pregnancy and wishes them well in case he doesn’t see them soon - which is shown during Rex + reader + Hunter’s short interaction. The squad is told the happy news before the events of that particular installment, and I’m thinking that it happens when Rex contacts them to ask if they would be able meet him on [planet] for a little help with [mission].

Find the rest of the series and related works in the Post-Order 66 Rex ML

Let’s go back in time when Rex makes contact with TBB, which preludes the events of Insatiable: (pregnant!reader, TBB + Omega finds out, about 1.6k words)

<<<>>>

"We’re being hailed.” 

All members on board the Marauder drop what they’re doing and turn their attention to Echo, who had just called out and is signaling for everyone to congregate in the cockpit. Hunter sheathes the knife he’d been twirling in his fingers and nods before stepping towards the rear of the ship and calling for Omega, while Wrecker sets down Gonky and waves her over. Tech and Echo are already sat in the cockpit, getting the signal steady for the incoming transmission to come through.

"What is it?" Omega jumps down from the gunner's nest - now her room thanks to Wrecker's kind heart and creativity - and joins her brothers in the cockpit. The pilot seats are swiveled around and facing the small space in the center of all of them - the bust of a familiar captain popping into view. "Oh, it's Rex! Hi Rex!" She waves at his translucent blue form with a giddy smile plastered on her face. “Where is-”

"Hello Omega," you chime in with a smile as your head pops into the perimeter of the holo. Her sweet face lights up even more, and her eyes move back and forth between you both, unsure of whom to focus on. From the room you’re still staying at in a high-rise located in Yerbana City, the two of you exchange quick greetings with the five who are currently traveling through hyperspace.

“What’s goin’ on, Rex?” The gentle giant asks with a grin and hands placed on his hips. The captain straightens his stance and crosses his armored arms across his chest plate, and instead of directing his impending response to Wrecker, Rex’s attention turns to Hunter, who’s leaned against the frame at the threshold of the cockpit. A moment passes as the two share a nonverbal understanding before Rex opens his mouth - the focusing pairs of eyes on one another.

“I wanted to see if your squad would be available to help me out.” You quietly observe each individual who are all appearing on your end as full-body projections, landing on Omega to where she’s sitting on top of their Gonk droid - her hands folded neatly in her lap, legs swinging.

“Name it.” Echo is quick to respond with a affirmative nod as he meets the eyes of each member - cutting off Hunter before the sergeant can get a word in. Rex’s oldest friend found himself caught at the receiving end of a very slight glare coming from directly across from him, and begins to backtrack. “I-”

“What is it, Captain?” Hunter interjects.

You sort of tune out the rest, having already been given the spiel by Rex long before you’d suggested for him to contact Hunter for some much-needed assistance. It’s a simple mission: scouting out an abandoned base in hopes to obtain supposedly valuable information from the obsolete Republic database and perhaps to also restock on munitions if there’s anything left there. Normally this would be something Rex could manage on his own, though his thoughts have been a little busy since the start of your extended stay in Yerbana. The two of you ended up taking a little much-needed ‘vacation’ in the repopulating capitol city after receiving the incredible news, and you’re just now getting back into the swing of things. Well, for the most part. Rex doesn’t quite trust his focus as of late with far too many other important things swarming around in his mind, and is worried that he'd make a mistake doing the mission solo, no matter how simple the objective appears to be.

Hunter accepts without resistance, and confirms that they'll meet the two of you just outside the abandoned base immediately after they’ve finished their current objective for Cid, which will probably be in another eighteen hours or so. Rex transmits the coordinates, and it falls silent; the awkward clearing of the throat coming from Rex crackles through the air on their end.

“Somethin’ else, Rex?”

“Actually, yeah. We have some news.” Rex grins and rubs at his nape, and you can't help but to smile wide at him from your position at his side. The squad members all share a glance - a mixture of raised, inquisitive brows and narrowed, concerned eyes. Hunter steps closer to the projection, caution engrained within the features of his half-inked face as he crosses his arms.

“Tell them, love,” your sweet voice of reassurance crackles with the brief wavering signal - your hand laying to rest on his pauldron. Rex chuckles down at his feet and grabs your hand to bring it up to his chest, squeezing gently as he begins to acknowledge the others.

“Everything okay, you two?”

“Based on their lifted expressions and display of affection towards one another, it appears that this ‘news’ is of a positive, exuberant nature.”

You can’t help but laugh at Tech being Tech, which results in mixed reactions at the other end of the call. Rex inhales deep - the air quietly seeping through his nostrils on the exhale. “We’re, uh- we’re gonna have a baby.” His lit up eyes drop to his boots and he’s smirking at his feet as soon as the words leave his lips. You watch as the multiple pair of eyes widen with smiles creeping their way onto each member of the squad’s faces, but the first person to audibly respond is Tech - his focus not lifting from the device held in his hands.

“Are you certain?” All heads snap in Tech’s direction to where he’s leaned forward in the pilot’s seat, elbows resting on his thighs, continuing to tap away at the datapad. Smacking his bother’s knee, Echo squints at Tech and shakes his head.

“Yes, Tech,” you giggle as your hand releases from Rex’s and moves to rest against the beginnings of your baby bump, though you’re unsure if they are able to see either one of you from the chest down. “The bun has been confirmed as baking in the oven. We risked a brief visit to the local med center here, so, we’re certain.”

“Well then.” Tech’s brows lift above the rim of his goggles as he readjusts the spectacles with a finger pushing between them. “Felicitations to you both. That is quite extraordinary news. It seems that I was correct in-”

“That’s so wonderful!” Omega exclaims with the largest grin - hopping off the GNK and clapping her hands excitedly as she approaches you. “When are you getting the baby? Are we going to see the baby when we meet them at the rendezvous, Hunter?”

“Of course you're going to see the baby, Omega,” you answer softly for Hunter, giving him a quick smile and nod, saving him from having to explain. “It won’t be for quite a few months, though. Not until after the baby is born.” Omega’s brows pinch together in confusion, and you cautiously elaborate, unsure of what she already knows as far as what the natural-born process entails. “The baby has to grow inside of me first, and that takes a little while.”

"Inside of you?" Her curiosity is absolutely adorable. She turns to her brothers - soft eyes flickering to each one of them.

"You see, Omega, when-"

"Uh, Tech?" Rex clears his throat, and the intelligent trooper is quick to get the hint - closing his mouth and resuming to silently tap at the datapad. Echo is next to chime in, and he’s smiling like a fool, eyes wide.

“You’re gonna be a dad, eh? Wow... that’s- that’s just incredible, brother.”

“I’m gonna be an uncle!” Wrecker very loudly exclaims, and Omega and you share giggles at his enthusiasm.

“Technically, Wrecker, we are all going to be ‘uncles’ since Rex is our brother, genetically speaking. Therefore, any offspring he may produce would be considered as our nieces and nephews. That is how the nat-borns conduct their family trees.” Tech punctuates his statement with a sure nod - speaking with his finger raised in the air so as to draw attention to his point.

You’re so lost in the way Rex’s eyes continue to positively sparkle with pride and adoration as his brothers and Omega shower the two of you with congratulatory praises that you’re forgetting to respond to all of them.

“We appreciate it, everyone,” you say with an ear-to-ear grin - beaming at Rex. 

“We’ll see you all soon,” Rex concludes, “Stay safe out there.” 

The holo vanishes as the transmission disconnects, leaving the squad on board the Marauder to go over some more details of their next objective as well as to process the news.

“So...” Wrecker turns around and leads Gonky back to where he was benching the power droid before the call. “What do ya think Rex is gonna do?”

Hunter raises the brow bordered with dark ink. “What do you mean?”

“Are they going to keep this up, now that they’re going to have a kid? You know, the missions and stuff?”

“We have Omega,” Tech inputs matter-of-factly as he prepares the ship for exit from hyperspace. “And we are managing just fine, barring our dwindling ration supply.” Omega smiles sheepishly, but nods with confidence.

“Rex is a good man.” Echo swivels his seat around and sits up straight, meeting the four pair of eyes now gazing back at him. “Always tried to do what was best for his men, his brothers, and still does, even if it's beyond his control or out of his hands. Now that Rex is... free,” Echo puts the most stress into that word as it’s spoken - glancing down at his feet and chewing the inside of his cheek before continuing, “He’s in control of his life, and is able to choose his own path. And that path will lead to what’s best for his family.”

<<<>>> 

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#post-order 66 rex #djarrex writes #request #rex gayiyla #the Gayiyla family #captain rex x reader #captain rex x f!reader #star wars fic #captain rex #the bad batch