1 - 20 of 198 Works by withoutwords
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The coastal town means everything is so cold, the fire burning day and night and their clothes layered up so much they both look like the Michelin Man. Despite it, they pass the time easily, with food and booze and TV and sex, with board games and cards and more food and more sex. It’s an ideal life, and Robert can see a future in it - their future, away from Emmerdale and all its ghosts.
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Ilya knows a lot of things, because Ilya is not stupid. You don’t get to play professional sport in the United States of America by being stupid. You don’t get to make lucrative deals, or meet friends in high places or even make investments for the future of your children’s children’s children by being stupid.
Stupidity is not Ilya’s problem.
His problem is Shane Hollander.
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Want, want, want, that’s all Aaron did, and he was so close to his breaking point now.
Robert belonged to him, and everyone should know it.
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If he doesn’t move, he can picture the dresser messy with clothes and the photos of Liv and Seb in their frames and the ugly patchwork curtains Aaron insisted on buying.
Life could almost make sense again.
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“You can’t be in here,” he says when he steps into the dark of the lounge room, just making out the vague outline of Robert slumped on the sofa.
“What took you so long?”
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“You’ve really got to stop letting him get to you,” O’Hara tells him, sounding amused. Carlton throws her a furious look, but she just quirks an eyebrow at him – immune to his defences. “Seriously. He wouldn’t keep doing it if you just went along one time.”
“How am I supposed to go along?” Carlton says with squinting rage. “Oh, should I tell him he looks handsome too?”
“Why not?” Juliet shrugs, folding her arms. “It’s called reverse psychology, Lassiter. He needles at you, and you react. But if he needles at you and you play along, he’ll get bored and go after someone else.”
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“I meant between you and me. Why have things gotten weird?”
“I don’t know, man. Maybe because I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to kiss you? Is that weird?”
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Shawn laughs humourlessly, throwing his head back to let out a little bark. “Yeah, right. I don’t have to ask. I know everything about you. I know how you take your coffee, and what you eat for breakfast and all about your secret blog where you mostly get horny over Guns and Ammo magazine.”
“Oh right, because you’re psychic.”
“No, because I pay attention. Because I like you a lot, Lassie. I like that you’re passionate about what you do, and I like that you’re not afraid of who you are. I like that you don’t back down from a fight or go against your ideals and you’re not ashamed to be different. You’re … you mean something to me.”
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Harvey had looked like he was going to cry when Dave had taken his shirt off.
That had been before the yelling.
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Steve kissed his cheek. He came in close and looked at Danny with dark eyes and told him in a quietly rough voice, “I had a great day, Danno,” and. Steve kissed his cheek.
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There's a purse snatcher cuffed to Ray's desk and a kid across the bullpen insisting he never painted that phallic symbol on the patrol car and Fraser's here wearing red and acting like he didn't screw Ray's brains out last night.
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“My point is,” the other man says, almost with a growl. “I’m a single dad who only gets weekends and every other Wednesday, okay? Meanwhile her multi-millionaire stepfather has brought her everything but a pony, so if I want to stay in Grace’s good books there has to be a little compromising. Even if that compromise means letting her go into the ocean with strangers, and Jesus, I’m panicking just thinking about it.”
He wipes at his face, letting out a shuddering breath. His hair isn’t as unkempt as it was the other day, slicked back neatly with volume and height. Steve gets the impression he takes pride in his appearance – a crisp white tee and expensive looking shorts, showing off his … everything.
Steve clenches his jaw, biting back on any other feelings he might have that aren’t, 'this guy is insane'.
“So what you’re saying is you want to sign your daughter up for surfing lessons."
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Jamie joined the art retreat, The Warren, to work on his art and make some new friends. That's all. But when a new member catches his eye - Ben, a schoolteacher who's new to Midsomer - Jamie decides there are a few finer things in life he's been missing out on.
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“You think taking me to the nicer parts of Hawaii is going to make me like the place. And I’m telling you, you’re wasting your time."
“Wasting my time,” Steve repeats with a slow nod. “I’d hate to do that.”
AKA Five Times Steve tries to assimilate Danny to Hawaii, Plus One Time Danny realises what he's really doing.
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DI Ben Jones returns to Causton CID. Jamie's not sure how to feel about it.
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Sex is sex, is simple, until it’s not. Until it’s with someone you think about when they’re not around, until it’s with someone who paints landscapes that take your breath away, until it’s with someone who proves you wrong every step of the way.
It’s been a long time since Emmett was probie; was the caged little rabbit who made Travis so angry he spilled his feelings all over the station like an arsonist with gasoline. Just ready to explode any moment.
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“I know he likes me,” Ben says with a dismissive wave. “I just … he’s never been with another bloke. He hasn’t, what, sown his wild oats or whatever, he hasn’t been out there and seen what else he could have ... I’ve been out there, I know who’s out there and he … he’s the best of ‘em."
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Steve accidentally sends Danny a dick pic.
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Of all the things Ben thought he might discover about himself once he got married, being a possessive twat wasn’t one of them. And yet here he is, sliding a hand up Callum’s back, wrapping it around the back of his neck, saying quietly,
“Alright, babe? How’re those drinks coming?"
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Only Danny’s life right now is escorting Hawaii’s golden boy from the north shore back to Waikiki. Which might not be so bad if McGarrett didn’t have to make half a dozen stops on the way.
Or if he hasn’t insisted on driving Danny’s car.