#quailfic

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[fic] Not a Cruel Master

Title: Not a Cruel Master Fandom: Resident Evil Ship: Leon/Victor Tags: Explicit, Rape/Non-Con, Deepthroating, Triple Drabble Summary: He's really not. a/n: Written for @artificial0wl in Seasons of Drabbles Spring Round 2026

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[fic] Perks

Title: Perks Fandom: Taskmaster RPF Ship: Phil Ellis/Reece Shearsmith Tags: Explicit, Werewolf Phil Ellis, Vampire Reece Shearsmith, Triple Drabble Summary: On control and perks a/n: written for @hercury in British Comedy RPF Exchange semiflash 2025!

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[fic] A Dual Purpose

Title: A Dual Purpose Series: Being a Collection of Tales from the Almanacks of Messrs Shearsmith & Pemberton, Hunters of Paranormal Entities Fandom: British Comedy RPF Ship: Reece Shearsmith/Steve Pemberton Tags: Explicit, Gunkink, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Paranormal Investigators Summary: The hot Summer months bring a sort of restlessness along with them which Steve has an idea to solve. a/n: My absolute delighted face when, upon writing The Matter of Gracebrook Manor, I realised that it gave me the perfect excuse and setting in which to write gun and knife porn :DDDDD Lo! Gracebrook Gunporn be upon ye! Bone apple teeth.

Not hugely required to read Gracebrook first, but it will give you all the context.

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Happy WIP Wednesday!

Actual Wednesday edition for once! There's been no tag game going round today, but I'm fucking starting one, so there.

Have a chunk of my current new wip, Whitechapel Ed/Miles, set after s04e04! transcript under the cut as usual~

No pressure tagging with an invite for art wip shares too if applicable; @silverview @canyouliftmeup @eemamminy-art @80aidy80 @wintersoulwitch @dangerliesbeforeyou & @fell-bullet 💚

Ed chewed his lip a moment, ordering his thoughts. "I have. A method of therapy often employed for those with debilitating phobias or mental illnesses such as post traumatic stress disorder or issues with anxiety." He forced himself to follow that line of thought instead of getting sucked into the memories again. "What exactly are you suggesting, Miles? Because I'm not sure I would want to entertain the idea of that paper mill all over again…"

"No, no! Nothing like that!" Miles' eyes lit up with that compelling fire of his, and Ed found himself captivated. "It's just. Well, okay I'm not gonna pussyfoot around it. That bastard Diggory had you trussed up like a turkey at Christmas. I saw the hardware he had you in with my own two eyes, and I've seen how jumpy you are whenever anyone mentions an arrest or has their cuffs out on the table. It's not like we can avoid the cuffs forever, seeing as how you work in a police station, so. Exposure therapy."

Ed went cold all over. His vision dimmed at the edges, pinpointing narrowly inwards until all he could see was the flash of scotch in his glass tinged red like the light at that hellish mill. His breath fluttered in his chest like a caged beast, and he could feel the press of steel fencing against his bare shoulders, cold and cold and—

"Hey now." Miles' hand squeezed his, and Ed came back to the present under its rough warmth. "It's okay. Shouldn't have said anything — forget I mentioned it."

"No!" Ed blurted out before he could think better of it. "No, I think— well. Let's face it, Miles. I basically had half a panic attack just at the very mention of what happened." He laughed ruefully, heart still going. Apparently a regular occurrence this evening. "I don't want— why don't you tell me your idea?"

"Only if you drink some more scotch first. You've gone white as a sheet." Miles squeezed his hand again then let it go, leaving Ed suddenly bereft of its warmth.

He did as he was told, swallowing down the last of the scotch and relishing the burn. Miles poured him another measure and topped up his own glass, then sat back in his seat.

"Okay, good. Right. So, all that being said: the idea."

Ed laced the fingers of both hands around his glass and took a few deep, steadying breaths in and out. The panic was still there, hovering in the background like a dreadful spectre of his weakness, but he willed himself to focus on Miles' voice. On the glass in his hands and the taste of scotch on his tongue.

"Go on."

"Now, don't go asking where I got these from, because I ain't telling, but—" Miles pulled something out from his pocket and set it on the table, "—there. Exposure therapy."

It was a pair of black leather cuffs, about three inches thick and with a brushed silver buckle and d-shaped ring fixed onto the leather, and Ed couldn't take his eyes off them. Off Miles' fingers, resting against the hardware.

"Now, just in case you get the wrong idea, I'm not about to sit here and suggest I tie you up and leave you or whatever you might be thinking. It's all about the little bits, apparently. Building up tolerance."

"Building up tolerance," Ed repeated, eyes still on the cuffs. He could almost feel Miles' fingers in the dark.

"Just a couple of minutes with one, at first. Take it off any time you need to. And I'd be right here with you the whole time."

It was like Miles couldn't stem the tide of his words now he'd found them, and something about the way he kept on talking, kept on reassuring, brought Ed back into the present with a rush of air.

"You're suggesting restraining me," he said slowly, quietly. "As a way to overcome this weakness of mine."

"Not even as far as that! Not at first, anyway. Just one cuff around your wrist, not attached to anything, nothing like that." Miles ran his finger across the edge of the curled pair of cuffs, and Ed nodded before he could second guess himself, swallowed sharply.

"Alright," he said, mouth incredibly dry. "What harm can it do?" He did not let his thoughts go down that line, just focused on watching Miles' fingers against the leather. On that memory in the darkness. He supposed it was therapy, of a kind. Not something he'd entertained the thought of since… well, since Morgan. One way to cut short any ideas of self-improvement, wasn't it?

"I'm not gonna answer that." Miles smiled and ducked his head to catch Ed's eye. "Had enough Dutch courage?"

"I fear even the rest of that bottle wouldn't be enough Dutch courage, Miles. But nonetheless, I will persevere."

"Alright. Okay, good."

Ed reached out and took both cuffs in one hand, feeling the weight of them. The supple leather was buttery soft and he could smell it just in his hand.

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[fic] Scrutiny

Title: Scrutiny Fandom: Taskmaster RPF Ship: Phil Ellis/Reece Shearsmith Tags: Explicit, Overstimulation, Triple Drabble Summary: Just a bit embarrassing a/n: written for @hercury in British Comedy RPF Exchange semiflash 2025!

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[fic] lift me out of my own skin

Title: lift me out of my own skin Fandom: British Comedy RPF Ship: Derren Brown/Reece Shearsmith Tags: Explicit, Consensual Non-Consent, Praise Kink, Hypno Kink Summary: "Don't give me any advance warning," Reece said, before he could talk himself out of it. "Just, you know," he waved a hand vaguely, "do it." a/n: written for @canyouliftmeup in British Comedy RPF Exchange semiflash 2025! Thank you for the opportunity to write these two!! I was chomping at the fucking bit the entire time. Title and honestly the entire fic fuelled by Sleep Token's Hypnosis on repeat. Apologies to my neighbours etc etc

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[fic] Shit Missions

Title: Shit Missions Fandom: Resident Evil Ship: Leon/Krauser Tags: Mature, Triple Drabble, Drabble Sequence, Aftermath of Torture, Whump, implied knifeplay Summary: They just keep on getting them. a/n: Written for Nixxi in Seasons of Drabbles Spring Round 2026

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Cid Week Day 2 | @cid-loving-hours -> Child of Wind and Loneliness @ ao3