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#I hope those tags show up in the right order
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I'm mentioned in this blog post about National Reuse Day! (Which is tomorrow.)
It really is a shame that recycling gets all the attention when reducing and reusing are realistically the much more important parts of "reduce, reuse, recycle."
Reusing materials and old, worn out clothes for art and things with new utilities, stuff like upcycling and visible mending... It all shows a story in the resulting items, and that's really charming to me.
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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drunk in love
in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there
fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight
“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 
“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 
“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 
“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”
Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 
“Call me that again.”
Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 
“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”
“Because you love me?”
“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 
You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonder what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.
“Kiss?”
He gently grabs your wrists. 
“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”
Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 
“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.
“Can we kiss forever?”
“We can try,” he muses. 
“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”
“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”
He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 
“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”
You pout. 
“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”
Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 
“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”
“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 
“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”
He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 
You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 
“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”
Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 
“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”
“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”
He chuckles. 
“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”
You make a face. 
“I’m always nice.”
“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 
“In my head I am.”
He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 
“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”
“You think I’m not usually nice?”
“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”
“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 
He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 
“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”
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teddiesworldd · 2 months
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muffled moans and whiskey kisses.
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is it morally okay to fuck a customer? (2.4k words)
a\n: thank you for all the love on my first posts! i hope you love this one just as much! also, if it wasn't made clear, ghost is wearing a mask with a cut-out for his mouth. enjoy!
pairing: ghost x female waitress!reader
tags/warnings: nsfw mdni!!, just a regular ol' bathroom hookup with the biggest guy you've ever seen, porn with plot, hickeys, a little choking if you squint
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it was one of those shifts where the hours just dragged on and on. the day felt like it was never going to end as you wiped down another table and laid out the silverware neatly on top of a napkin. your mind wandered off somewhere else, but you snapped back to reality when you saw 4 huge guys walk through the pub doors and stroll over to the bar. one looked a little older than the others with a thick blonde moustache and cream bucket hat. two of them were a little shorter, a scruffy mohawk on one and the other with tanned skin covered by a blue jacket. however, it was the fella trailing behind them who made your hairs stand on end. he was absolutely giant. he was wearing a tight black t-shirt that showed off the thick, red scars which ran down his massive arms. and just to add to it, his whole face, except for his eyes and mouth, was covered by a worn-out skull mask. you realised you were staring when his dark eyes met yours and you shifted your glance back down to the table you were tending to. you could feel his eyes burning onto you as he walked past.
it was only when all 4 men were seated that you realised your colleague was still out the back and you'd have to go over and make their drinks for them yourself.
no biggie.
you make drinks for people all the time.
you desperately tried to calm your own nerves as you walked over to the bar, suddenly aware of how tight your clothes felt. the sweat on your palms. the loose hairs that had fallen from your ponytail and were now tickling your neck.
not people like this.
you were a confident person most of the time, but this skull-face guy was intimidating as hell. and the way he looked at you like a piece of meat earlier, like he wanted to eat you up. yikes. you pushed the little door open and walked behind the bar, smoothing down your waitressing apron and putting on your best customer-service smile.
"what can i get for you?"
the first three were relatively nice. the older chap was quite charming, really, making polite small talk and asking about your day. the guy with the mohawk tried cracking a few jokes which made you cringe a little but it was sweet regardless. and you noticed the military badge on the blue jacket of the third man, which made a lot of sense as the bar was right next to the military base. you had soldiers and the likes come in often, trying to drink away the stress of their day. but these guys were different. high-ranking, probably. after you had served the three, you moved down towards the fourth and asked the same question. it was only now that you realised how dark his eyes actually were. they were like dark pools of chocolate. like an empty street at night. and his pretty blonde lashes were like the stars. how could someone so big and scarred be pretty? you wondered.
"a whiskey, please."
his voice was so deep, and he had a bit of a manchester twang to his words. something about him, though frightening, was sort of attractive. the way the corners of his mouth turned up when he spoke to you. the way his huge hands rested on the bar, twiddling and fidgeting with his thick fingers and rings like he was nervous. the way he looked at you said otherwise. you wondered what those hands would feel like on you. in you. he didn't break eye contact with you the whole time he ordered, licking his lips with a sparkle in his eye. you poured the drink, then turned back to him and placed it in front of him. he thanked you and sipped it slowly.
the men stayed for a while, chatting about their recent missions and such, laughing and ordering more drinks. but the masked guy kept looking at you, sometimes at your face, sometimes at where your flesh spilled out over the buttons of your white shirt. he wasn't exactly trying to hide it either, the perv. you couldn't help but look at him too, shamelessly. he even caught you a few times looking at the way his muscles moved as he brought the glass up to his lips.
when he excused himself and walked over to the bathrooms, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, the tension between the two of you was almost suffocating. however, this was the complete opposite of a break from him.
he stood in front of the door like, well, like a ghost. his finger beckoning you to follow him. you questioned your life up to this point and scanned around the pub, it was pretty late on a weekday so it was completely empty except for the group at the bar. you put down the glass you were polishing, took off your apron and excused yourself to the three men who remained in front of you. luckily, none of them payed much attention, going straight back to their conversation.
you know what he wanted from you, of course, it wasn't like he was bringing you into the bathroom for a conversation. but still, a part of you just couldn't believe what was about to happen. he was probably a whole foot taller than you, and twice as wide.
he must be absolutely packing. he'd probably spilt me open.
you tried not to think about it.
you pushed the door quietly, your manicured nails tapping gently when they made contact. you barely even pushed the thing open before he was pulling you by the wrist into the nearest cubical, and locking the door behind him. he didn't say a word. he just pressed his lips to yours. the kiss got heated pretty quickly. you could taste the whiskey on his tongue. the way your mouths fitted together - it was like you were made for each other. it felt so perfect. so addictive.
he pulled away and moved his head into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking and leaving dark red marks across your collarbone. you couldn't help the moan that left your lips, earning a quiet "shhhh, lovie" between kisses. his voice was gorgeous. he soon reached your cleavage, planting bites and kisses all over. there was something so refreshing about him. most guys you'd been with didn't care about any of this stuff, they just wanted to be done as quickly as possible. not him, he took his time marking you, like you were something rare and precious. like you were something special. he moved his hand up to undo the buttons of your shirt, looking up at you with lust filled eyes.
"do you want this? hm? do you want me?" he growled.
you couldn't believe he was teasing you already. of course you did. "mhmm" you nodded frantically, trying to speed him up by undoing your buttons yourself, but he stopped you at the first one.
"ah ah, no. be patient, doll. tell me. tell me you want me." he asked nicely this time, waiting for your response.
"please," you whined out, a little more desperately as you intended, trying to retain a little bit of your dignity. you were still fully clothed, you didn't want to seem too needy. yet.
after hearing your response, he placed another kiss to your chest and started undoing the buttons. so slowly. it was like torture. you placed you small hand onto the back of his head, guiding him down, which he must of liked because it made him look up at you with the most devilish glint in his eye. oh, this man was about to ruin you. he hooked his fingers into the waist of your skirt, pulling it all the way off and stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans. what a gentleman, he didn't want your clothes getting all dirty on the floor of the men's bathroom. gross. after spending a second admiring your pretty lace panties and matching bra, he asked you, "you always wear underwear like this, love? what a little slut you are." something about the way he spoke to you made you absolutely wet. he looked gorgeous at this angle, knelt down in front of you, shoulders broad, inches away from your heat. part of you wanted to just pull his face into you, but he was definitely much stronger than you, so unfortunately you'd just have to wait it out.
he kissed the inside of your thighs, then over your clothed clit, making you beg for him again. then he pulled your underwear to the side, finally pressing his mouth to your soaked pussy. he felt amazing. he must be pretty experienced because he knew exactly how, when and where to make you whine and pant at every movement. the way his tongue swirled in little circles around your clit made your head spin. and the way he looked at you, never breaking eye contact, he was intoxicating. you knew if you made too much noise then his friends would definitely hear you - the walls were pretty thin. but it was so hard when he was sending you towards the edge so quickly. and when he pushed two of his thick fingers inside of you, you had to cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet. he curled it just right to hit the perfect spot inside you over and over. just his hand was stretching you out, and hitting spots that had never been hit by your own fingers. you knew you weren't going to last much longer at the brutal pace he was moving inside of you. you hooked your leg over his huge shoulder, and when he started sucking you could feel the knot in your stomach twisting. he knew this too and when you clenched around his fingers he pulled away, leaving you a panting, sweaty mess and depriving you of your orgasm.
"don't worry, doll. i'm not done with you yet," he said, standing up and turning you around so your chest was against the wall with your back to him. "want you to come on my cock, not on my fingers."
you could hear him undoing his belt and his cargo pants dropping to the floor behind you. he grabbed your hips and pulled your ass back towards him, lining you up nicely. you just knew it was going to be the biggest you'd ever taken. his tip prodded at your entrance, and he pushed slowly into you. he was huge. you hissed as he pushed inside, and he immediately stopped, checking if you're okay before carrying on, splitting you open. once you had adjusted, he started moving at a more regular pace, fucking you deep and slow. your tight pussy gripping his dick like a vice. he managed to find that spongey spot inside of you pretty quickly, hitting it over and over and causing you to let out a pornographic moan. he brought his hand over your mouth in response, muffling your slutty noises.
"is that good, lovie? yeah? you like it when i fuck you like that?" he groaned into your ear, bending over to kiss your neck and bare shoulder.
your eyes rolled back in response, bouncing back into him, which he didn't appreciate very much. with a deep grunt, the hand that remained on your hip tightened its grip, keeping you in place as he pounded into you. your head fell back into his chest in pure ecstasy, the pleasure being almost overwhelming. you could feel like knot building inside you again, getting close to your orgasm once more. his hand moved from his hip down between your legs, rubbing your clit just right, causing you to shriek into his hand. your legs began to shake as you were hurtling towards your climax. when you finally came, he had to move his hand from your clit to under your waist, holding you upright as your orgasm rocked through you. you cried out into his palm, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.
when you finally fell back down to earth, he brought you to your knees and pushed his huge cock into your mouth to chase his own orgasm. it was the first time you'd managed to get a proper look at it. it was the perfect shade of baby pink, your own juices gleaming on his tip. a thick vein ran down the shaft all the way to his firm, full balls. he had a decent amount of blonde hair that trailed upwards towards his bellybutton and disappeared under his t-shirt. you happily took him into you mouth, taking him as far as you could and stroking the rest with your hand. his hand found its way around your neck and squeezed gently, feeling so small in his massive hand. you looked up at him and noticed how he was biting his lip, trying to keep himself quiet. the way his eyes rolled back when you chocked on the sheer size of his dick was so hot that it almost made you want to turn back around and ask for round two. but before you knew it, he was holding your ponytail in his fist and thick ropes of cum were filling your cheeks and running down your throat. his grip on your neck and hair tightened as he let out a grunt, which was loud enough for the boys at the bar to hear for sure, but you didn't care anymore. this man was truly something else.
he helped you get up, dressed and clean afterwards, returning your skirt and carefully wiping your mouth with his thumb. he smiled at you as he did this, telling you how pretty you were and how he just had to fuck you. you went back into the pub one after the other, as to not raise suspicion. but your makeup was all ruined and he had sort of a pornstar sweat-glow to him, so it was pretty obvious regardless. he finished the last mouthful of his whiskey and left with his boys.
it was only when you'd cleaned up their glasses and locked up the pub that you realised you didn't ask for his number. or even his name, for god's sake.
but you were sure that this wouldn't be the last time that giant of a man would stumble in for a drink on a wednesday afternoon.
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˚✧. thank you for reading!
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˚✧. dividers by @ saradika-graphics and @ si-eunnis
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peachsukii · 2 months
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Hiii omg I love your writings so much!!
May i request texting katsuki while reader is drunk in a bar (maybe bc reader just broke up with her previous boyfriend or sth. It’s up to you but please make it spicy 🔥) (also 18+ please 🥹)
ohhhh the things swirling in my head about this!!! thank you for the request nonnie & hope it delivers! 💜
on the rocks
『 ♡ 』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | friends to fwb ꒱ ⇢ your week couldn’t get any worse. between a screw up at work and getting dumped out of the blue, you needed to desperately let off some steam. thank goodness the girls were more than happy to take you out for the night in the city and spoil you with a good time. everything’s fine until you receive a text that spirals into an unpredicted hookup.
꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ 18+ MDNI mentions of alcohol, mild/implied smut, suggestive texting, friends to friends with benefits, heavy flirting, sexually comfortable reader, reader went through a break-up, soft bakugo, fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~2.6k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist
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The bartender hands you the drink you ordered, nodding a thanks when you smile at her. You’re not drunk, per se, but you’re definitely buzzed - that warm and fuzzy feeling dancing through your veins, letting you relax for the first time all week. Tonight's goal was to think about absolutely nothing, to let go of all the shit weighing on your shoulders. Even if it's just for one night, anything to shake away the pain you've been carrying.
But the alcohol seems to be betraying you, forcibly shoving those thoughts to the forefront of your mind instead of burying them.
Memories of your ex begin to haunt you as your mind wanders aimlessly, the dam bursting that was keeping it all at bay. You try and shake your head to rid yourself of the feelings, but they just wouldn’t go away.
God, fuck him and every false promise he made to you.
Some people would consider three months a short amount of time, but to you, it felt like an eternity. He seemed so sweet, caring and kind when you first met, but once he forcibly ripped off your rose-colored glasses? He was nothing but a walking pile of shit.
Suddenly, your phone dings on the bar, lighting up to show a text message notification.
'Who the fuck is texting me so late?'
You blink a few times, re-reading the contact name before it registers: Katsuki Bakugo.
That's rather...odd. He's notorious for going to bed by 9pm - it’s almost midnight. You two were friends, sure, but never the 'text you in the middle of the night' type of friends. Curious to know what he wanted, you open the text to reveal nothing but a picture. When you squint through your hazy vision, you realize just what you're looking at.
It's a picture of Bakugo from the neck down, laying on his bed in nothing but grey sweats that are tugged down and nestled at the bottom of his hip bones. The pose accentuates the delicious deep V below his abs and shows the blonde trail disappearing underneath the hem of his sweatpants. The shadows trace each well-earned muscle, perfectly outlining them in the dim light of his bedroom.
Was this meant for you? Did he send it to you by accident? Your mind goes blank, stopping your previous train of thought about your stupid ex.
…did he send it to you on purpose? Your core pulses at the thought, causing you to cross your legs defensively.
Right on queue, another text pops up, your phone vibrating in your hands.
[katsuki] fuck, sorry. that was an accident
That was a bold face fucking lie, and you knew it. Bakugo's not that stupid to send the wrong text by mistake, especially a selfie. There's no way in hell he would even take a picture like that for someone unless he wanted it to be seen.
Liquid courage does you a favor when you reply, loosely teasing him about it.
[you] damn, katsuki. who's the lucky girl?
You don't notice Mina approaching you with how intently you're staring at your phone screen, startling you when she taps your shoulder.
"What are ya doing over here?! Come dance with us!" she pleads, pulling on your arm. She notices how you're clutching your phone like a lifeline and the coral tint on your cheeks. She quirks an eyebrow at you. "Who are you texting?"
Oh god, find a lie - fast! She'll see right through your facade if you don't.
"No one, just a spam text."
Mina stares at you - shit, she knows you're lying.
"You're a shit liar, babe. Who is it?"
"I got a random text from Katsuki," you admit, the flush in your cheeks deepening at his name. Are you into him, or is it the alcohol in your system? It's no secret that he's attractive, he's always been effortlessly handsome. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't checked him out a few times, but never acted on it. The two of you were friends and you’d assumed he didn't think much else of you.
Mina grabs the phone from your hands, entering in your passcode (how did she know it?!) and reading the texts. Her eyes blow open, pinching the screen to zoom in on the photo. You scramble to grab the phone back to quit her oogling as she's squealing with glee.
"Holy shit!" she yells. "Accident my ass, Blasty. Damn, that's hot."
"Mina! Keep your voice down," you beg, locking the screen to prevent anyone else from seeing.
"No one is listening over this music," she squawks, punching you lightly in the arm. "Come back to us soon you minx!"
And with that, she leaves you at the bar, returning to the dance circle with the rest of your girlfriends. Your phone vibrates a few more times in your hand and recaptures your attention.
[katsuki] thought you'd like a distraction [katsuki] shit, if this is weird, just tell me and i'll fuck off [katsuki] i should've just asked instead
So it was on purpose. You swallow hard as you shakily type out your reply, trying to keep your cool.
[you] it's not weird, what made you think of me? [katsuki] mina wouldn't shut the fuck up about you earlier. sent me pictures of you in the dress you have on, couldn't get it outta my head
When the fuck did Mina do that?! You had thought she was taking pictures of herself earlier at your apartment. That sneaky bitch!
[you] goddammit mina, i'm sorry about her. why would she send them to you?
You see the typing indicator pop up and disappear a few times before his response arrives.
[katsuki] you know how she is, playing matchmaker and shit with everybody [katsuki] honestly? i'm not mad about it [you] oh? [you] so that's why you sent it to me. hell of a pickup line kats [katsuki] fuck off [katsuki] i can't deny that you're gorgeous [you] yeah? feelings mutual
Your face is burning hot, sitting at the bar in disbelief that Bakugo's flirting with you. And it was all because he was infatuated with what you're wearing? He couldn't get it out of his head?
You're still debating on whether you want to yell at or thank Mina for igniting this fire. [katsuki] where are you right now? [you] sitting at the bar, some club in the city
Another picture is delivered to you on screen and has your jaw dropping to the floor.
The picture is closer to his face this time, cut off at his cheekbones and barely illuminated as Bakugo's fingers are parted over his mouth. His tongue is lazily hanging above his bottom lip with a string of salvia attached to one of his fingers.
Your legs twitch as you bite your lip, imagining his face slotted between your thighs.
[you] holy shit, katsuki...fuck [katsuki] find a bathroom or some dark corner [katsuki] there's more where that came from. just say the word, princess
The pet name is doing things to you that you didn't think was possible. Your overloaded with a sudden rush of arousal, heat twisting in your belly at his promise. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you bolt to the nearest bathroom and lock the door behind you. Luckily, this club's on the nicer side, the bathroom not being as scummy as you thought it would be. You set your things on the counter and grab your phone, turning the camera on and pointing it in the mirror.
If that's how he wanted to play? You could play right back.
[you] that deserves a reward
The photo attached shows your breast pushed closed together, daring to spill out of the top of your dress and wearing the poutiest lip you could muster.
Bakugo’s response is immediate.
[katsuki] goddamn, your tits look amazing in that dress [you] would you believe me if i said they look better out of it?
You turn the camera back on and click the record button, sensually slipping the top of your dress down and letting your breasts loosely lay over the bust. Your nipples are pebbled from the rousing desire flowing through you, making them standing perfectly at attention. You give the camera a wink and squeeze one of your breasts playfully. Once you're happy with the video, you send it with no hesitation and readjust your dress. [katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] you alone? That's not the response you expected, but you roll with it. [you] yeah, one person bathroom
- Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo -
You stare at the contact screen for a few seconds before picking up.
"Hey Kat," you greet, nervousness wracking your body, the thrill of the situation making your heart flutter.
"I wanted 'ta hear your voice instead," Bakugo groans, heavy breaths following his words. "I never thought you'd...want to do this with me."
You can't help but laugh under your breath. "Never thought you wanted to, either."
You're thankful that your not drunk off your ass after all - you want to remember this. You're tipsy, but coherent.
And turned on to high heaven.
Bakugo breaks the silence before you cut him off. "I know you're fresh outta-"
"Katsuki, he's not worth mentioning. I'm focused on you right now."
"Yeah? Tell me more."
"I'd love to see what you're hiding under those sweats, Dynamight. I'm practically a puddle just thinking about it. How do you think my lips would look wrapped around you?"
You can hear Bakugo exhale into the phone and groan. He tries to hide it, but fails miserably.
"Cat got your tongue, huh? Too forward?"
"N-no. It's fuckin' hot. Shit," he whispers with baited breath. "God, what club are you at again?"
"The one near Shibuya station. Crystal Crown, I think. Why?"
There's a pause before you hear various clicks and a beep or two from his side before he answers.
"Changed my mind, this ain't happenin' over the phone the first time. You're 15 minutes from my place, I'm comin' to get ya."
You can feel your panties soak from your excitement, clenching at the thought of him just ravaging you in his car and not being able to make it back to his apartment before touching you like a man starved.
"Coming to sweep me off my feet or to fuck my brains out?" The words spill from your lips before you can stop them, but you don’t regret it when you hear Bakugo moan in response - loudly.
"Fuckin’ - have you been stockpilin’ this shit ‘ta say to me?" He laughs. “You’re gonna kill me before I leave the damn apartment.”
“Didn’t think you’d be so easy to play with,” you joke playfully, twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers. “Better get here before I change my mind, find some other rebound in this stupid club.”
“I’ll be your fuckin’ rebound any day of the week, sweetheart. Ain’t no guy in that building better than me.”
His confidence makes it difficult to bite back the moan in your throat.
“Guess you need to prove it. Get your ass over here, I’ll be out front. You better be wearing those sweats.”
You’re about to hang up when you hear Bakugo say something quietly, too muted for you to make out right away.
“Kats?”
He clears his throat before repeating himself, his voice soft and low. “You sure y’want this? I don’t wanna fuck anythin’ up or whatever.”
“You won’t fuck anything up, nothing wrong with friends fucking with no strings attached. I already flashed my tits at you, no turning back now.”
You subtly hear him let go of the breath he was holding and a hollow chuckle, sounding relieved at your answer.
“Good. See ya soon.”
The line ends with a click, leaving you with your thoughts while staring in the bathroom mirror. You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been shaking until you attempt to walk, unexpectedly stumbling like a baby deer on your heels. Once you gather yourself, you exit the bathroom and hurry over to the dance floor. Mina spots you, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips when you approach the group.
“Where the hell have you been?!” She shouts over the music. “I was starting to think you died in there.”
“I’m heading home,” you say while waving your hand, brushing away her worries.
“Oh…oh my god. Is Bakugo coming to get you?!”
“Mina!”
Jiro and Uraraka turn in your direction, yelling in unison. “Bakugo?!?!”
You palm your face, desperately attempting to hide your flared cheeks as the girls squeal and cheer for you.
“Stop it! We’re still just friends!”
Mina clicks her tongue. “Uh-huh. That’s what I said about Kiri a year ago, and now look at us!”
“You gotta let us know how it goes,” Uraraka winks, elbowing you in the rib. "Rumor has it he lives up to his hero name in bed."
Before the interrogation continues, you back away from the group with a smile and turn for the entrance. You slide through the doors and slip out onto the sidewalk and see Bakugo parked out front, smiling as his eyes spot you on the busy street.
Has he ever smiled at you like that before?
He gets out of the car and walks around to greet you.
“Hey Katsu-”
Before you can process what’s happening, Bakugo’s got one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your neck. He gently leans you against the car as he swoops down to place a featherlight kiss to your lips. You squeak before melting into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sparks are flying through your whole body - a sensation you haven’t felt for a long time. When the two of you part, his eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed and lips parted with shallow breaths.
“Ready to go?” He asks, removing the hand from your neck and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your heart is in your throat, strangling any words you try to say, so instead, you just nod ‘yes.’ Bakugo walks you to the passenger side and opens the door for you, just like any other time you’ve hung out. When he shuts the door and goes to walk to the drivers side, you finally notice he’s wearing the damn grey sweatpants.
The entire drive back to his place, Bakugo’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh. His fingers danced over your skin, playing with the hem of your dress and gingerly squeezing the plush surface every so often. You return the favor, walking your fingers up the inside of his thigh a few times, stopping short of the growing tent in his sweats. Pulling up to his apartment complex seems to take the breath out of both of you. He turns the car off and you sit idly in silence, it's only a minute or two, but feels like a lifetime.
Bakugo gets out first, jogging over to your side to open your door. He takes your hand as you stand, closing the door behind you and swiftly sweeping you off your feet into his arms, bridal style.
"Wow, do all the girls you bring home get this treatment?" you tease, planting a kiss on his warm cheek.
"Never had the pleasure of bringin' a princess home, so no."
That shuts you up and makes you quiver in his hold.
"I'm honored, sir Dynamight. Take me to your castle!" You swoon, dramatically leaning back with a hand over your head.
Bakugo shakes his head and grins, starting to jog through the parking lot and up the stairs with you. You hold onto his shoulders while giggling uncontrollably, ecstatic to see where the night takes you.
One things for certain - you haven't thought about your ex once. And you look forward to keeping it that way.
tags; @slayfics @maddietries
648 notes · View notes
anundyingfidelity · 2 months
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AFFECTION — Soldier Boy
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Summary: During a mission, Soldier Boy receives a hug from you unexpectedly. He likes it.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female supe!reader.
Word count: 0.9k
Warnings: canon violence and language, reader is kinda hurted, descriptions of blood and stuff, AU where Ben is working with the team on missions (which is what should've happened on the show btw), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy lmao, Ben and reader are totally opposites and I live for that. Based on this post.
Note: soooo I'm still making some arrangements to my Soldier Boy long fic and instead I have this short drabble in the meantime. Hope you enjoy it hehe.
the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla
(if anyone would like to be added to my tags just tell me^^)
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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You groanned, feeling the hard wall hit against your back. It was hard to believe but you thought probably you wouldn't go out of this alive. Your body ached and not even your strenght could stop this guy.
Fucking Butcher, why did you have to follow him to suicide again? Just a couple of cunts, he said. But he forgot to mention they had a weird improved dosis of V injected.
You fell to the ground as the man walked towards you. He was extremely tall and well-buff. No sense the Compound V on his system made him better, or at least that's what he thought. He was tossed to the ground by your side, and you crawled to the corner of the small room.
The distance was not enough to let you run away. You stayed there, watching Soldier Boy's big frame over the man. He used his shield, beting him to death and destroying his face and neck during the process. You were so damn sure his loud groans of pain would remain on your mind at least for a couple of days.
"Fucking pussy," the old man said, wipping some blood off his face. He got on his feet ungracefully and grabbed his shield back. He turned to look at you, still sitting on the floor. "You okay?"
You nodded. "Yeah."
He held you a bloody hand, which you took to stand up. There was an akward silence as you and Ben left the small room, you followed him around the dirty basement, filled with lifeless bodies and fluids on the ground, to meet with Butcher and Hughie.
"Guess those were all," Butcher announced.
"I have the remaining dosis," you took the tube from the pocket of your pants and showed them with a smile on your face. "Was the last one."
"Excellent," Butcher grabbed it and tossed it to Hughie, who saved the tube on a bag.
"We made it out, huh," you mumbled.
"Well, we're still down here, so," Hughie shrugged and three pairs of eyes narrowed at him. "What?"
"Just think positively, for once," you pleaded with a fake sharp tone. "Isn't that hard, y'know."
Ben rolled his eyes.
"We're on a fucking shithole, the kid's right. Let's go now before any of you fuck this up," he ordered and passed by between Butcher and Hughie, hitting his shoulder intentionally in the process.
You quickly followed behind his long soldier strides. "Wait!"
Soldier Boy scoffed and closed his eyes slowly only to open them again. You stood on his way with a big smile and wide eyes. Bruises and blood adorned your face and neck, your clothes were also splattered with dry blood and dirt after killing those clandestine stupid supes on an undercover mission at night, and still you acted like nothing had happened. He stood in place, with Hughie and Butcher standing behind expecting what the fuck you'd be doing this time. Sometimes he thought you were so fucking annoying.
"The fuck you want?"
You opened your lips to say something but nothing came out. Once you closed them, you beamed again and closed the distance between him and you. You wrapped your arms around his strong waist and rested your grubby check against his chest. He tensed visibly under your hug and after a moment you pulled away, your hands behind your back with a shy smile. Hughie and Butcher were clearly holding back a good laugh. They knew better not to mock Soldier Boy, not yet though.
Ben blinked a couple of times, trying to process what happened.
"What the fuck was that?"
You giggled. "Affection."
He wrinkled his nose. "Disgusting."
You gasped and faked sadness on your voice. "Why? I was just saying 'thank you for saving my ass'."
"It's fucking nothing," he rolled his eyes and started to walk again to guide the team outside, with the other two men with playful smirks on their faces following behind.
"Ben!" you quickly caught his pace to stand by his side. "Thank you, okay? Probably you don't like physical contact but I do. And this is how I show others that I care about them and that I'm thankful. I also give hugs because I like them and–"
"Shh!" Ben raised his hand, suddenly stopping his tracks by the end of the stairs that'd lead you outside. He turned and looked at you with that grumpy face of his. "I said you're welcome, sweetheart. Now we need to go, you can talk to me about your hugs shit later."
He pointed to Hughie and Butcher. "Now, you, cocksuckers, go up."
Butcher grinned, going first. "Sure, cap."
"You shut up," Soldier Boy warned, Hughie gulped and nodded, and made his way up on the stairs.
You stood there, with a smile on your lips. Always that fucking, idiotic, stupid smile, even after hard missions like the one you just had. It was like if you were the only one who didn't seem scared of him or anything else. Sure, you were a supe and a smart asset on the team. But still, a very peculiar lady through his eyes.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. Once Butcher and Hughie were out of sight he finally talked.
"Do it again."
"Excuse me?"
"The stupid hug, do it again."
You raised your eyebrows, eyes bright as you realized his request. "Really?!"
"God, woman. Do I need to fucking repeat my—?"
His words were cut by your strong hug. You crashed against his frame so hard he lost balance for a bit. He was certainly surprised by how warm your hug it actually felt. You angled your eyes to see his face.
"Thanks!"
You let him go and got up the stairs. He barely curved his lips at how happy you climbed them. Yeah, well he actually liked your stupid hugs.
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soldier boy / reader
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482 notes · View notes
runnning-outof-time · 3 months
Text
I’m (Not) Alright with a Slow Burn | Tommy Shelby x Reader headcanons
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Request: yes by anonymous
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (headcanons)
Summary: How Tommy would go about being stuck in a slow burn with someone he's falling for.
Warnings: mention of death of grandmother, slight season 2 spoilers
Word Count: 2537
A/N: I really enjoyed this request! umm…I’m not sure if these are 100% written like headcanons - I wrote them like I was spewing out ideas lol. Kacey Musgraves’s song Slow Burn was also running through my head while I was writing this, hence the title. Also how the hell do you actually spell headcanons?? Is there 1 ‘n’ or 2?? Lol . Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!
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• (Y/N) was one of the few Shelby Company Ltd. employees that Tommy didn't hire. She was brought on board while he and the boys were off at one of the races. Polly saw the potential in her and immediately welcomed her into the company.
• when Tommy returned from said races, he was pleasantly surprised to meet her.
• and Polly clocked that immediately. She was able to tell by the lack of a fight - Tommy was always able to find something to pick at when she made decisions within the company, no matter how minuscule. But there was nothing to pick at with (Y/N).
• Polly also wasn't surprised to see (Y/N) completing more and more tasks that came directly from Tommy. They'd be tasks that Polly hadn't even known about...but for some reason Tommy trusted (Y/N) with them.
• (Y/N) didn't think anything different about it. She'd been hired into the company and one of her bosses was asking her to do things. That's what was supposed to happen, right?
• although she did find it odd that it was Tommy asking her to do these things when she'd originally been hired to help Polly with sorting out the books and the like.
• things persisted like that for a few months. (Y/N) would happily and eagerly help him with whatever he needed to have done around the company. He'd look out for her, making sure that she was happy in her position and just in general. And in return, (Y/N) would (try) to keep up the same for him. She'd show that in the smallest of ways and attempts, but he would notice. Over those few months and because of those small acts, Tommy's thoughts and feelings towards (Y/N) evolved.
• he can still remember the day when that switch began - because it haunted him every day after.
• she came into his office like it was any other day for her...but it wasn't any other day for Tommy.
• he'd been working under Campbell for a few weeks at that point, and it'd become apparent that he'd be dead at the end of the arrangement. Tommy wasn't afraid to die, but the thought of getting everything in order and making sure his family could go on without him was now plaguing his mind.
• so when (Y/N) asked him what he had for her to do today, Tommy rattled off his list without as much as looking up at her. He was fully expecting her to turn and exit the second he finished speaking.
• she didn't. Silence reigned for a moment or two before "are you ok, Tommy?" came quietly from her. This made Tommy look up, and when he did, all of the noise in his mind ceased. Sure he looked at her before - he'd looked up like this thousands of times, but he never saw her like he did when he looked up this time. It was this otherworldly experience that he'd only been through twice before. Which meant he knew exactly what was happening.
• even though he brushed her question off and told her that he was fine, he hoped that things wouldn't change between them.
• and thankfully they didn't because hell, Tommy Shelby was certain that he was falling in love.
• he began testing the waters carefully at first. (Y/N) was a good woman and he wasn't about to make her leave the company due to his actions. He couldn't stand to lose her.
• so he started by making sure she was being heard; by actually listening to her whenever she'd share ideas or tell him how things played out with what he'd asked her to do.
• then he emphasized making sure that she was safe - having blinders on her block, sticking around on the days where she and Polly would be in the shop tallying the winnings, and also personally offering to take her wherever she needed to go.
• (Y/N) reacted bashfully to these offers. She felt that the other company employees would think that she was getting special treatment or something — well...she kind of was...but she deeply appreciated Tommy doing these things.
• in regards to feelings, Tommy was putting his out there as best as he could (which, well I'll let you be the one to decide on how well that is) He really tried to make a more personal connection with her; to get to know her as her and not just another employee...and in turn he let her know him.
• (Y/N) stayed professional. He was one of her bosses after all. But she couldn't deny that she enjoyed being in his presence. Her friends found that crazy, too...how can she be happy to be spending time with Tommy Shelby? She swore it off as strictly work related until she couldn't anymore.
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• the evening started like any other...(Y/N) went home after work with the intention of doing what she did every other evening. But something was waiting for her at home. Something that turned her world upside-down. She found out that her grandmother had passed away. The post had come and one of the letters was from a sibling of hers, sharing the news. She didn't know what to do.
• after exhausting all of her options, she found herself at the Garrison. Tommy had invited her there in the past, but she never accepted it due to wanting to stay professional.
• she asked around for him and the second she found out that he was in the snug, she made her way to it and opened the door. He was in there, but so were his brothers. "This was the last place I could think of," she blurted out. "Everyone out," was all Tommy needed to say before it was just the two of them in the room.
• (Y/N) quickly sat and let everything out. Tommy listened intently, something no one had ever done for her in the past. They sat in the snug for hours, (Y/N) talking and Tommy listening. Her ability to share her grandmother's story helped her immensely.
• from that evening, (Y/N) saw Tommy in a different light. The fact that he sat and listened to her as she lamented to him and not once did he even think of leaving meant the world to her. No one had shown her that sort of worthiness or attention.
• all at once it felt like she was head over heels for him. Like all of those little instances he'd shown her before had all culminated into this one, major display of devotion. It had her realizing that maybe it wasn't solely because she was his employee...maybe it was much more than that.
• and so when he went out of his way and made sure to check on her the next morning - she knew this because Polly commented on the fact that he was supposed to be in London by sun-up - and he couldn't get him off of her mind no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't beat around the bush anymore...she'd fallen for Tommy Shelby, hard.
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• but things didn't hit off right from that moment.
• no, it took a rather long time for those feelings to actually come out.
• there was a lot of dancing around the other - the smaller gestures and moments still occurred, but neither one was willing to make that jump over the edge and confront the other about it.
• yes, you read that right...Tommy Shelby was actually keeping his feelings for her close to the chest.
• mostly it was because of the position they were in. He'd offer to take her to dinner and she'd politely decline (even though she really wanted to go) because she was worried the other company employees would suspect something.
• Tommy wasn't exactly into the dancing around it (he hated it at times actually), but he honored her choice.
• but that doesn't mean he wasn't taking every chance he got to spend time around her. To check in on her and see how things were. To walk her home if she stayed later. Anything to show her that he was serious...without actually saying that he was serious.
• he was hooked on her though, there was no doubt about it. All he needed was for her to really show that interest back to him, and then he'd know for sure that he could act on it.
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• and then Polly's birthday came.
• the company/family decided to host a party at the Garrison. Of course (Y/N) was invited.
• a man named Louis was one of the men who worked the shop floor daily. He saw (Y/N) almost every day that she was also on the floor, and he made it a point to seek her out as well.
• much like with Tommy, (Y/N) kept things between her and Louis strictly professional.
• but this party is when Louis decided that he was going to make his move...to try and woo her.
• maybe he should have thought this through...
• (Y/N) was sitting at one of the tables, chatting with some of the other women who worked within the company. It was a surprise that she wasn't with Tommy, considering he sought her out almost immediately after she arrived. But Tommy was still present though.
• Louis had this plan to put everything right on the table. He smoothly walked over to her and, equally as smoothly, slipped into the booth that she was sitting in. (Y/N) was polite, but it was obvious that she wasn't feeding any more into it than a simple, friendly conversation.
• but of course Tommy didn't pick up on that. From where he was standing it looked like Louis was a little too close to her for comfort. So he quickly intervened.
• and he was anything but subtle with it. He was quickly able to make Louis feel uneasy and clear him out.
• (Y/N)'s confused, but happy to have the man she'd hardly talked to gone. She sends Tommy an appreciative smile and that's just about enough to bring Tommy to his knees. But that doesn't happen...instead he gives her one of his signature, lop-sided smiles and nods at the ladies sitting with her before going back to where he previously was.
• this interaction didn't go unnoticed though. Polly and Ada were watching from off to the side. These two know Tommy better than anyone, and they've rarely seen him react this quickly and in this sort of way. So it's glaringly apparent to them that something's going on here.
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• and this becomes increasingly apparent as time goes on.
• also as time goes on, (Y/N) manages to move up in the company. She's basically right underneath Polly in terms of power, becoming her 'right hand man’ in the treasurer position.
• having this position means that she's more involved in the inner circle and is at all of the meetings.
• the entire family swears by the fact that Tommy is softer with her than he is with anyone else.
• you can literally see the change the second she shares her thoughts on a matter or even enters a room. The switch is practically on a dime.
• but these two keep dancing around each other - they've been doing it for close to a year at this point.
• and those who know of it are baffled. They are obviously in love with each other...why hasn't one budged and made things official?
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• the suspicions on this topic all come to a climax on the first year anniversary of (Y/N) joining the company.
• Tommy invites her out to dinner. (Y/N) agrees this time mostly because she knows what day it is...and she knows that the Shelbys like to celebrate such things.
• but she's surprised when she arrives at the upscale restaurant and is escorted to a table for two. Tommy can't help but smile at the face she pulls when she sees that he's sitting there, waiting for her.
• but she gets comfortable very quickly. It's Tommy we're talking about here...she's never been more comfortable with anyone in her life if she was being honest. And the same goes for him too.
• the dinner lasts hours. They talk about everything and anything. Work's off the table, but yet they still manage to not have more than a moment of silence. Both are surprised at how freely the conversation flows.
• eventually Tommy brings up the subject they've been dancing around.
• he lays everything out on the table this time. There's no sense in holding back. He tells her how she makes him feel, how she's made him feel from the moment he first saw her.
• he also mentions the fact that he's felt this way for a while now, and that he can't continue dancing around it any longer. He honored her desire to stay professional for this time, but he wants her too much, loves her too much to keep going like this for even a day longer.
• at first (Y/N)'s shocked. She's not oblivious...she'd been catching the little hints that he'd been leaving all this time, but she was truthfully too hesitant to ever bring the subject up to him.
• but now that he's put it out there, she figures why should she hold back her feelings any longer?
• so she lays it all out for him as well. Tells him how she feels about him, how she's felt about him for some time now.
• Tommy can't contain his happiness as he hears this. He's grinning like a fool.
• so really there's only one last thing for them to do now...make it official.
• Tommy wastes no time in doing that.
• he asks her properly though. That's what she deserves, especially after all this time that's been invested.
• he stops them just down the road from where she lives. He tells her that he really likes her (he won't use the 'l word' just yet - even though the two of them are so clearly in love) and that he can't wait a moment longer to make her his.
• (Y/N) quickly agrees with the sentiment after everything that had been shared during their dinner.
• Tommy can't help but smile at her response, and he just barely nods his head in his Tommy fashion before continuing to walk her home.
• they share their first kiss at the front door, and it's absolutely magical.
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• they then proceed to do a terrible job of hiding it while at work. Tommy's waited this long to be with her, he's not going hide his affection for her any longer.
• their definition of 'in secret' is soooo far from the actual definition. They think that they're being sneaky, only stealing kisses in empty hallways and in Tommy's office, but it takes Polly literally only two days to catch onto it.
• no ones upset with it though. Honestly everyone’s happy that they’re finally together.
• well everyone except Louis…Louis is a little bummed about the whole thing. But Tommy and (Y/N) don’t care about that in the slightest.
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Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife
MASTERLIST
482 notes · View notes
farmerstarter · 2 months
Note
Hi!! Could you do Sam HCs? It can be literally anything. I just love him so much :)
ʚ🛹ɞ ˚ · . Random Sam Headcanons
Tags: Sam from SDV x gn! reader
Hi! I'm so sorry for the super super super late response. Life has been pretty busy for the past few months and I haven't had the time to get on Tumblr. But, I'm slowly coming back to it! Anyway, likes and reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy, loves! 🌷🫶
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🎸 He was absolutely thrilled when you asked him to teach you how to skateboard. He immediately came knocking on your door the first thing in the morning the day after you brought it up, carrying his skateboard and some gear. You two spent the whole day going over the basics, with Sam holding your hands and trying not to laugh when you would scream over the tiniest things (“I’m going to die, Sam!” “It’s just a pebble!”). A cute add-on: Vincent and your pet would tag along sometimes, and they took it upon themselves to be your personal cheerleaders. After some time and a few bumps and bruises, you and Sam would often skateboard all around the town, trying to impress each other with tricks. Sam has your name etched on his skateboard, and you have his name on yours.
🎸 Personal HC where Sam and Vincent stumbled inside the fruit bat cave while they were visiting. Sam got bit by a bat, nothing too serious. Vincent is horrified, and Sam decided to mess with him by pretending to be a vampire. Suspiciously, you find yourself missing a jar of your homemade jam. Turns out, Sam “borrowed” it (And by that, I mean he scribbled a little note on the place where your jam used to be), and covered it all over his face pretending it’s blood. He got a big scolding from Jodi right after though.
🎸 Sam and Krobus friendship, Sam and Krobus friendship, Sam and Krobus friendship! It all started when Sam looked into the sewer to show Vincent that no, there is no monster in the sewage canal. He was soon face to face with a shadow man and it was over. Krobus has a knack for beating the hard levels on Sam's video game and their friendship budded from there. Sometimes, Sam would disguise Krobus with his clothes so they can watch movies in the cinema together. You found out about them when you walked in on Sam trying to teach Krobus how to play the drums in the greenhouse.
🎸 Sam asked Jodi to teach him how to bake after he had the bright idea to ask you out on a picnic when you two started dating. It all started when Penny showed him those fancy little cakes that she ordered from Zuzu City as a treat for Vincent after the kid passed his math exam. Penny mentioned how you saw those cakes when she bumped into you by the bus stop and thought they were cute. Cue a light bulb in Sam’s head. Sam’s not the best cook, but he’s got the enthusiasm. He ended up with a lopsided two-tier cake with a little blob of fondant on top of it (Vincent’s lips pursed, “What’s with the brown rock?” Sam sputtered while Jodi’s laughter chittered in the air close by. “It’s a chicken!”). Sam would make up for it years later when he would remake the same cake for your wedding anniversary.
🎸 Sam would randomly call you in the middle of a rainy day and just play guitar riffs. No words exchanged. When he’s done, he will just hang up.
🎸 Sam gives you pretty seashells that he and Vincent dig up on the beach (sometimes with a little help from Elliott and Willy) instead of flower bouquets. He doesn’t want to risk sneezing all over you when the pollen would inevitably make his nose red.
🎸 Sam had a whole phase of wearing a cowboy hat when he’s working on the farm for the first few months.
505 notes · View notes
sttoru · 10 months
Note
ooo what abt gojo and reader are at some formal event and reader has a toy plugged inside her and gojo just turns it on at the most randomest times
POKER FACE !
ෆ sypnosis. you accompany satoru to a formal event, which you instantly regret the moment he starts controlling the toy he plugged inside of you beforehand.
ෆ note. literally drooled at this when it popped up in my inbox :3 thank u 4 this & hope you enjoy — this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !
ෆ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. public, dirty talk, use of adult toy (vibrator), edging, implied cunnilingus & blow job, uhh u suck on his finger, size difference, satoru’s a big tease.
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your fingers were tightly curled around your wine glass to the point that it threatened to shatter, your gaze flickered all around the hall and your body was trying its best not to show the pleasure its receiving in secrecy.
it’s all because of your lover; gojo satoru. the man introduced a new idea to you before you attended the formal event. he said that ‘it’d be fun’ and then ordered you to plug a small vibrator inside of you—one he recently bought just for the sake of using it on your body.
you really should’ve known that satoru was going to tease you to death before you agreed to his proposal. the moment you stepped foot into the main hall was also the same moment the ‘fun’ started.
satoru walked ahead with confidence, flashing that charming smile of his to the waitress who offered you your wine glasses. his right hand held onto his drink whilst his left hand was buried deep in his front pocket. to many, that may seem like a casual gesture, but to satoru and you it was more than what it seemed.
the item hidden in that covered area was a small remote which controlled the vibrator you had put in your pussy. the vibrator was designed to give both internal and external stimulation—the external part was pressed against your clit and continuously made you shiver from pleasure.
“my baby’s looking so pretty.” satoru hums, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head like he wasn’t sexually tormenting you in the midst of a crowded place. he put his glass down on a nearby counter so he could wrap an arm around your waist.
“you doing okay?” he adds once he gets the gist of your subtle struggles. you were holding yourself pretty well according to satoru, thus he decides that you could probably take more.
the fingers in his pocket press twice onto the small ‘up’ button, increasing the frequency of the vibrations. you tense up almost immediately, one hand clamping around your glass while the other gripped onto satoru’s hand on your side.
“s-satoru, stop it—“ you whisper under your breath while trying your best to smile to any other guests who greeted you two. the escalating and pleasurable sensations made your legs start to shake. it was just a matter of time before you begin to make noise.
“don’t worry, sweets. i got you.” satoru chuckles and shakes his head, decreasing the regularity of the vibrations for a split second, “hmm.. or do i?”
there he goes again; playing with your emotions. just when you thought he decided to have mercy on you, he did the exact opposite and turned the vibrator up to its maximum setting. you bit your lower lip so hard that it begun to sting, “p-please, can’t no more, ‘toru.”
satoru nuzzles his face onto the top of your head, his nostrils filled with the recognisable scent of your shampoo. you could’ve sworn that you felt him smiling against your scalp after he left a kiss on it;
“shh, shh, t’s okay.” your lover purrs, feeling your body convulsing every now and then due to the intensity of the plugged in toy. he enjoys seeing you struggle to keep your composure in public, especially in risky situations like these. if anyone knew what was happening underneath those layers of clothes you had on, your reputation would plummet. satoru’s as well.
in an attempt to hide your erratic breathing and flustered demeanour, you pull satoru in a hug, face buried in his chest while both your hands were now clutching onto his suit jacket. hugging wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for couples, so that’s the least you could do to cover up your pleasure filled expression.
“aww, is my baby not feeling well?” satoru muses, but still tightens his grip on your waist, pressing your body against him and turning you sideways so that most attendees would only be able to see his backside, not you. at least he decided to spare you by hiding you in his embrace the best he could.
though, that didn’t mean he’d spare you from his antics just yet. the vibrator was still at its max setting after all.
the faint buzzing noise sounded ten times louder in your ears since that was all you could focus on. your clit was being overstimulated to the point that you just couldn’t hold back a couple desperate whines—the noises muffled by satoru’s dress shirt.
“hnnn— ‘toru, c-can’t, ‘m gonna..” you bit onto the fabric of his clothes as you subconsciously move your hips forward, grinding against satoru’s crotch. the pressure earns a quick hiss from your lover;
“don’t think so, pretty.” he sighs softly and his fingers move to hold in the ‘off’ button on the remote control. the toy immediately stops and you breathe out shakily— you lift your head upwards to meet satoru’s gaze. your lips were forming a small pout as if you were upset by his actions.
“what’s wrong?” satoru coos, knowing damn well that you were close to your climax, which he ruined by just one click of a button, “you couldn’t take it anymore, right?”
two of his long fingers sneaked across your waist and onto your jawline, fingertips stopping under your chin to let his thumb rub across your bottom lip, “i just did you wanted, baby.”
his voice was low and sultry, almost unable to be heard above all to the music and chatter. his index and middle finger gently tugged your chin downwards to open your mouth. his thumb smoothly slid between your lips and instantly pressed down onto the surface of your tongue—wordlessly encouraging you to suck on it.
your lips closed around his thumb without an ounce of hesitation. you were lucky that satoru was tall enough to hide you behind his figure. your vision was being blocked by his broad shoulders and it was like the entire hall disappeared from your point of view.
“mhh, such a warm mouth.” satoru murmurs as his thumb moved around, grazing against your gums while you continued to suck on his finger, “can’t wait to have my dick in here and have you choke on it.”
you are sure that if satoru continues to talk dirty like that in your ear, you’d be able to cum untouched without even the slightest help from the vibrator. the best thing about satoru’s dirty talk is that he actually means what he says and will make those words a reality one way or another.
“or i’ll just go ahead and instantly put my cock in your tight pussy once i get us outta here, yeah? i bet i’ll be able to slide right in, considering you’re probably fuckin’ dripping right now.” a shiver of excitement runs down your spine, plugged hole clenching onto the vibrator, which you wished was his cock stretching you out.
satoru smirks before gliding his thumb out of your mouth. he couldn’t wait to pull you into a private room and eat you out, tasting you on his tongue before fucking you so good you’ll forget all about his unbearable teasing.
it’s then that his senses pick up on a sorcerer who was starting to walk towards the two of you, probably to greet him. satoru bends his head down to whisper in your ear, “but before that, i’ll need to prep you more thoroughly. hang in there f’me, pretty.”
with one last peck to your forehead, satoru turns around and easily spots the guest walking towards him in the far distance. while your lover awaits them to arrive, the hand in his pocket moves and turns the toy on again. it was still set to its maximum and you needed to clamp a hand over your mouth to prevent from letting out a squeal of surprise.
satoru grinned as he spotted that reaction from out of his peripheral vision.
having this much control over you was fun, but seeing you slowly fall apart due to him and no one else was more enjoyable.
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creepling · 3 months
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⋆.˚☀︎٠ ࣪⭑ A KNOCK AWAY
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synopsis: returning packages and a broken washing machine lead you to spend the night with your hot neighbour, digger harkness.
tags: smut - minors dni. fem!reader. age difference (early 20s x late 30s). domestic elements. reader described as "shy" but not really. sexual tension. alcohol use. drinking games. awkward moments. oral (f receiving). couch sex. big dick (it's canon it's out of my control!!!). p in v. creampie. 4.4k words.
Your neighbour had a habit of ordering ludicrous amounts of packages but is never at home to collect them. It was almost every day they arrived and piled at your front door. The last few days you’ve knocked on his door to give them, but met by silence. Your small apartment is running out of room if any more decide to show up. You had been going in the afternoons once you came off work, but he either didn’t answer or wasn’t in. This time, on Saturday morning, you decided to knock on his door. Who cares if it’s the weekend, or it’s too early, you were determined to get those packages out of your house.
You knock gently at first and wait for a minute. No answer. A week. A whole week of this bullshit. Impatience clouds your sympathy, and you knock on the door harder. You hear a thud, a clank of glass, and a curse on the other side of the door. You knock again, calling up a groan of annoyance and an “I’m coming!”
The door opens, and you’re greeted by your neighbour for the first time since you moved here. He is shirtless, showing off a collection of tattoos. His mop of hair hadn’t met a comb yet; still scuffled by sleep. You could tell he was older, and you were taken aback by how attractive he was. Given in a rugged way. You half-expected a balding divorcee with a beer belly.
“You’re George, right? I live next door,” You introduce.
Eyes squint and bloodshot, he looks you up and down before nodding. “You know what time it is, sunshine? Too bloody early to be knocking on people’s doors.” He said, fighting through a hangover to communicate. The twang of an Aussie accent was the second thing to surprise you. Even with the twang of annoyance in his tone, you bite your cheek to fight off a flattered smile.
Your bashfulness forces you to ditch the defiant speech you prepared. “I’m aware of that- but I’ve tried to get a hold of you all week, but you seem to not be in during the afternoon.” You shuffle to your open door, grab one of the packages and gesture it to George, “There’s a ton of packages here for you.”
George’s annoyed face began to soften, and he let out an idle chuckle. “Shiiiiit, I forgot about those!”
He opened his door wider and began collecting the parcels from you. You got a peek inside his apartment. Your suspicions of his home were accurate, resembling what all men living alone succumb themself to; their own squaller.
“Thanks for holding onto them for me. And sorry for being cranky, hangovers, y’know?” George said, his tone now different, one more pleasant. You smile, feeling pleased that you have the chance to converse with a neighbour and know who lives next door.
“Hope you had a good night so it’s worth it,” you chuckle, taking a stack of the packages and shuffling to his door. George takes them from your hands swiftly. This left you standing by his door, looking around the living room, stumped on the small talk. You were never really good at this.
“I mean- it was alright. They just hit you more when you get older,” he dropped the remaining boxes by his door, rubbing his temples as he stretched. His abdomen extended, shifting the waistband of his pants, making you look away and stand in silence. George scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you, feeling the interaction fade to a farewell.
“I better get going, you’ve got a lot to unbox,” you say, slowly backing away.
George gets to the door, nodding and shooting you a smile. “Thanks again for keeping them safe.” You could have sworn he looked you up and down, in a different way this time. Sizing you up, for other means. Maybe it was your imagination.
You meekly wave before retreating to your apartment. With the packages gone, your eyes adjust to the clear space, and the lingering images of your neighbour hot in your thoughts.
The washing machine was stuck again, and no matter how hard you hit it, it was still broken. Today is not going well, and you were on the edge, especially since the only other machine in the block has an ‘out of order’ sign on it. You rub your hands along your face, the skin already flushed from anger. A shuffle of footsteps approaches the entrance, and you reveal yourself to see who is witnessing your self-pity.
“Useless fucking thing, ain’t it?” It was George, the first time you’ve seen him in clothes that weren’t pyjama pants with socks and slides. He looks like he’s back from work, or the gym, it is hard to tell. You did wonder what he did for a living.
“I’m lucky it broke before I put my laundry in,” You look at the bright side with heavy eyes and a half-assed smile.
“Well, I don’t wanna brag, but I do have a machine. Wouldn’t mind ya using it until they fix it,” George shrugs with a ‘no big deal’ attitude. Suddenly your neighbour was a beacon of hope, and the stress left you with a sigh of relief.
“That would be really helpful, thanks,” you pick up your laundry basket, following up the stairs. He hunched the duffle bags over his shoulder. Reaching the top of the stairs, he unlocks his front door and lets you in first, taking a look at his living room and huffing. “Sorry about the mess.”
Beer bottles and cans littering the coffee table, clothes on the floor or hanging from the couch and chairs. You take one breath and smell the stale air, keeping a straight face. “It’s okay,” You smile through it, not wanting to place judgment. Maybe he’s just a busy guy.
George quickly shows you the settings on the machine (which he wasn’t so sure about) before excusing himself to the shower. Before you could ask questions, he was dashing to the bathroom, leaving you to your own devices. You load the machine, press the button and hope for the best.
Alone in his apartment was daunting and you begin to explore. Mostly focused on the messiness, the environment nagging at your senses. Clean space, clean mind, as they say. You pick up the trash and throw it out, starting with the beer cans. Luckily you didn’t find anything too disgusting, with the odd dirty plate you could place in the sink. You open the curtains, coughing from the dust and open the window to release the smell of stale pizza and beer. Your mind is clearer, you go to wash your hands until you spot George standing by the entrance of the living room in awe. He is still in his towel, his right hand clenching the side to keep it in place, his hair wet and slicked back. You turn away immediately, looking anywhere but him, a kick of adrenaline overtaking your insides.
“Wasn’t aware I ordered room service,” he joked, amused by your embarrassment.
“I’m sorry- I should have just left and come back later for the laundry. But- I don’t know- your place looked like it needed a tidy-up. I can’t help myself, it’s a habit. God- I’m so stupid-”
“Don’t get your undies in a twist, it’s fine. I appreciate it,” George reassures, rubbing the back of his neck, “As you can see, I don’t get many visitors.”
When he closes the bedroom door to change, it’s safe for you to look again. That feeling in your stomach didn’t go away, it still brewed in the pit and crawled its way up your core. It makes you think about him again, like those sleepless nights after your first encounter, and your cheeks grow hot. Maybe this is a good time to slip out and avoid him like the plague. But what else would you be doing? Watching TV? Playing video games? All alone in your apartment, like you always are. That’s how your life has been, work, home, bed; absent of social life, of anything remotely adventurous. You keep your feet firmly on the ground, chewing your lip in thought. There was a time when you lived life on the edge, out every weekend, hooked up with people. Letting your old self come out to play wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
“Where do you keep your cleaning supplies? I could do the rest for you if you want,” you call, inching towards the bedroom door so he can hear you. He opens the door quickly, startling you, wearing casual grey sweatpants and a white tee.
“Are you like a freelance maid or something? This how you get clients?” He leaned an arm on the door frame, looking down at you. He becomes the only thing in eyesight and you freeze, giving a shy smile.
“No, I just like cleaning, that's all. You seem like you need it, being a busy guy and all.” You study his eyes, wondering if he sees right through you.
George slowly nods, then snaps his fingers, heading towards the front door and sliding his shoes on. “Tell you what, love. I have to run a few errands, while I’m out I’ll leave you to it.”
You frown, crossing your arms. “You’re just gonna leave me, your neighbour you’ve met like once, in your house alone? You trust me like that?”
He shrugs, taking one of the duffle bags full of… something. “I’ve got many weapons I can pull on you if you try anything. Plus, you’re young and don’t look that strong, so I think I can take you on.” You weren’t sure if he was joking, but there was a cheeky look in his eye that allowed you to chuckle.
“That would do it. You can trust me.”
George gives a little salute, exiting the door. “Stuff’s under the kitchen sink. Good luck!”
You look at his limited supply, an empty bottle of bleach and a mysterious liquid in a spray bottle. You decide to use your supplies, grab them from your apartment, and come back to start the work.
You collapse on the couch gasping for air. People underestimate how much energy it takes to clean, especially when cleaning George’s house. Within an hour you cleaned the living room and kitchen and hung up your laundry to dry in your apartment. The worst part was the vacuuming, as like not owning cleaning supplies, he also didn’t have a vacuum. Go figure.
George eventually returned, greeted by your efforts and your limp body sprawled on his couch. You quickly got up, hoping he didn’t mind. Heck, this guy doesn’t have a vacuum, he can’t be the judge. “So, what do you think?” You anticipate.
“You did a bloody good job, I’ll tell ya that,” a smile on his face, making you smile too. “And since ya the best neighbour on this side of Metropolis, I got ya a lil payment to say thanks.”
George pulls out a crate of beers and takeaway pizza, presenting them to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you smile at the thought. “Thanks, George.”
“Please, call me Digger, everyone calls me that,” he said, “Thought we could have a couple of beers and I’d feed ya, but I’m no chef, hence the pizza.”
“So, Digger… is this you inviting me over for dinner?” You ask, pursing your lips. He thought about it and then nodded his head. “I guess I am,” he smirks.
Pizza crusts and beer cans decorate the coffee table, the television musing low music. You laugh at a joke Digger told you, hiding your mouth to not spit all over the place. He sits low on the couch, his hands resting between his legs with a beer. With your legs close to your chest, you take a sip of beer when a silence falls between you.
“Thanks for having me, I’m having a lovely time.” You confess, a little tipsy. You get shy admitting that, focusing on the music, unaware of Digger’s eyes not leaving your sight.
“I didn’t have a college kid cleaning my house on my bingo card,” he muses teasingly, smirking at your bashful smile.
“I am not a college kid! I graduated ages ago.”
“And by ages ago you mean in the last five years?”
He chuckles at your look of defeat. “Says the guy who’s five years off getting a pension,” you tease in defence.
“I’m not that old!” He defended back, “Nowhere near it!”
“Well, you’re at least old enough to clean your own house and have a vacuum.”
“You got me there…” he says into his beer.
The silence fell between you once again, but surprisingly it was not awkward. The air was thick, and not with stale air like before. You convince yourself it’s one-sided, keeping yourself together. You had an idea, but it was juvenile. When he doesn't say anything to keep the conversation going, you go on and suggest it.
“How about we play truth or drink?”
“How old are you? Five?” He scoffs.
“We already established my age, remember? C’mon, it’ll be a good icebreaker. Don’t you wanna get to know your friendly neighbour?” You nudge his arm playfully, realising you’ve been going that a lot since you had a drink. Mostly when he told a joke. You try not to cringe, realising your inferiority. He probably thinks you’re immature, and you suddenly see yourself as a fool. But when he turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention while cracking open another beer, you feel a little better about yourself.
“Who’s asking first?” He asks.
You volunteered since you suggested playing. You turn towards him, fighting through a fit of giggles, liking the way his eyes smile at you. He has nice eyes, light in colour, a mix of blue and grey with crow's feet winging the sides.
“Okay, let’s start easy. How long have you lived on the block?” You ask.
“‘Bout five months, I’d say,” he says.
“Do you move around a lot?”
“Oi, thought you ask one question at a time?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just curious,” you dart your eyes to his smirking lips before looking away.
“To answer your other question, I do move around a bit. It’s a job thing.”
You look back at him, catching his stare, the one that never seems to fade from you. You like the way he stares at you, so attentive like he refuses to have you out of his sight. It’s the type of stare that makes someone feel special.
“My turn,” he chirps, “are you always this shy around people?”
“What? I’m not shy,” you scoff.
“Really? You’re not shy?”
“What happened to starting easy?”
“No, you said that. I didn’t. I never start easy,” he says haughtily.
You roll your eyes, taking the beer can to your lips and taking a sip. Digger scoffs in shock, “No way are you drinking to that.”
“It’s a ridiculous question, plus I technically did answer the question. I’m not shy.”
Digger shakes his head in disappointment, breaking eye contact to chuckle into his hand. You narrow your eyes, readying the next question.
“Do you have a wife and kids?” You ask.
Digger didn’t act like you struck a nerve, but he wasn’t laughing anymore. He shook his head, and you take that as an answer, not wanting to press further. Yet, he begins to speak, in a tone softer than the one you’ve been getting used to;
“I know at my age I probably should, but it’s never worked out, y’know? The whole love thing I’ve never gotten the hang of.”
You resonate with him, meekly returning a smile. “Me either.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Digger said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’re good-looking. Woulda bet somebody snagged ya by now.”
You can’t help but chuckle, hearing how wrong his words are. “I guess I’ve gotten close before, but it was never meant to be.”
Digger nods in agreement like he is in the same boat. You had a strong urge to move closer to him, but resort to fidgeting with a thread on the coach. “Who’s turn is it?”
“Mine,” Digger returns his gaze to you. It was more intense, and you feel him all over you. As you grow the courage to meet his eyes, you see them trailing from your lips to meet you, his icy eyes darkening and lips parting as he readies his words.
“How would you feel about kissing me?”
Your stillness speaks volumes to him, and from the look of shock in your eyes, Digger’s smile fades and turns sour. He hides his face in his hands, cursing under his breath.
“Fuck- Just drink to that, it was bloody stupid,” his self-depreciation eats at you and you try and find the words to explain yourself. He was right, you were shy, and it got in the way of your feelings. So much for being the big flirt like you planned.
“No, it’s fine, honestly-”
He cuts you off, “I just thought- why else would wanna hang out with an old fuck like me? Keep my packages, clean my house,” he groans out a sigh, “and the way you look at me, fuck, it’s been driving me insane all day.”
“Digger-” you catch his attention, softening your face, and placing your beer on the coffee table. You shift your body closer to his, your movement swift but gentle. “I’d like it if you kissed me.”
He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the proximity, noticing the small details of your features, the softness of your lips. He swallows back his nerves, “Nah- you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
There is only one way to prove him wrong, and you did it by making the first move. You press your lips against him, and you're struck with his immediate touch as he engulfs you in his arms. Your hands snake up his chest to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as he beckons you to press your body against him with his firm hold. He grins into the kiss at the sound of your whimpers, holding the small of your waist and guiding you to his lap. You go with the motion, swinging your leg around and straddling him, enamoured by the hold he has on you. The makeout was sloppy, tipsy on beer and getting more drunk on each other’s lips. Digger’s kisses were firm and deep, his chapped lips coated in your sweet spot as he glided his tongue along yours. His hands lay haven on your asses, rubbing his callous palm around the fabric of your pants, enchanting your hips to move ever so slightly.
“Ain’t so shy now, are ya?” He grunts into your ear, migrating his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your faint skin. You see stars, closing your eyes in bliss, your fingers tugging at his shirt and fighting off the urge to rip it off. He takes the time to remove his t-shirt with your eager assistance, latching onto you once you discard it.
“Please, I need you,” you plead. You gaze down at him, your stare both close and far. His bucking hips invite your crotch to feel his length, the tip of his bulge grinding against your thigh.
He whispers to you, “Tell me what you want.”
 “Use me, I know you want to,” you taunt, enjoying the light that ignites in his eyes, his grip tighter on your skin.
“You’ll regret saying that, but I bet you can handle it,” he jesters, pulling your hair to expose your neck, his lips latching back onto your sweet skin. His other hand pushes your top over your breasts, exposing your hardening nipples. Licking towards your nipples, sucking on them gently and cupping your tits in his hands, grazing his teeth when you grind down on his erection.
Digger, hungry for more of you, lays you down on the couch. His eyes demand your attention, taking time to pull down your pants and underwear, drenched in your arousal. He lowers his head to your cunt, prying your legs open as you try to hide how wet you were.
“Don’t hide from me, love, show me how pretty you are,” he muses, admiring your glistening walls, lapping them tenderly with the tip of his fingers. Relishing in your squirms, he gazes at you under his lashes. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”
Your hands grip his hair when his tongue makes contact with your sensitive walls, his prominent nose snug on your clit as he eats you out. His movements are deep and steady, keeping himself in place between your quivering thighs, refusing to come up for breath as a rising feeling of release fills your insides. Shifting his tongue from your walls to your clit, his nose taking place not to neglect your pleasure, his eyes checking your reactions as his pride swelled from your raptured state. He takes a breath to tease you in between, his hoarse voice wavering against your heat, “Look at you, getting so worked up for me.”
“’m so close,” that was music to Digger’s ears, egging him on to keep up the pace.
Your whimpers rise into moans, and your thighs shiver under his grip and come undone. Digger doesn’t stop, pressing a firm hand on your stomach, keeping you in place so he rides out your high. You’re flushed in humility, but fuck it feels amazing. You break a sweat, shivering at the cooling of your hot skin, sighing in relief when Digger finally relaxes his hold on you. His face meets yours, your arousal coating the stubble on his chin and spreading to his chops. He is ferocious and light-headed – as if drunk on the taste of you.
“Hope you’ve still got some spunk in ya,” he pants, “I’m as stiff as a board here.”
Digger invites your hand to feel his erection. You didn’t think he could be harder than he was before, but he comes full of surprises. He slings the waistband of his trousers down and his cock springs free, twitching at the touch of your flinching fingers.
“Jesus fucking Christ-” Blessed by the man himself, his size was insane. You straighten in intimidation.
“I’ll go slow, okay? Just- fuck- I’m bursting at the seams here,” he begs, cupping your cheek with a reassuring hand.
You nod with a morbid curiosity, unable to deny the instinct to have him inside you, to feel every inch of him. Digger litters you in kisses, sloppy and idle as he dampens your cheeks and lips. Opening your legs wide, sucking in a breath, you watch as he lines his cock to your entrance. There was no fuss in sliding inside you, your dripping cunt lubing his tip and coating his shaft, the feeling of him inside you more filling than painful. It sets a spark in your mind, your eyes distant, the twitch of his cock against your walls melting your senses.
An unexpected moan escapes Digger’s lips, but he is attentive enough to coo for your attention, holding your face and bringing you back to earth.
“You still with me, hun?” He chuckles at your dazed look, trying to keep himself together as you tighten around him. You blink back to reality and wrap your legs around him, mewling at the slow thrusts coming into you. You eventually nod a reply, straining your neck to witness his cock buried inside you to train your hole for his massive size. He takes advantage of your position, locking a hand behind your head and picking up the pace. He is smitten by your squeaks. His rough hand clenches your hip, setting out to fuck you good. As you will soon learn, Digger has a habit of getting carried away. You learn a lot of dirty things about him that both shock you and fill you with sweetly sick lust.
Digger has you bent over the arm of the couch, his cock pummelling in and out of your abused cunt, muffling your feral moans with a hand clasped over your mouth. He arches your back and presses his lips against your ear, reminding you that he can see right through you.
“Is this what you wanted? To fuck you; get you drunk on my fat dick. Bet you didn’t think I had it in me.”
“You’re so good, so ‘fucking good,” you moan, your eyes glued to him with lust, a sly smile across your face. Digger sticks two fingers into your mouth, teasing your tongue to swirl around them, smirking at your eagerness.
“Shit, that’s enough to make me finish,” he says in a low voice, “And you wouldn’t want me cumming inside you, would ya?”
The way you clench around his dick and the sidious look in the dim light suggest the opposite. “No, come inside me,” you seal the deal.
“You’re so bloody dirty.” Digger’s eyes turn dark, his hand wrapping around your neck, rutting into you faster and harder than before. You see stars, giving into the numbing pleasure you succumb to. A dumbfound smile stretches across your lips once you feel the warmth of Digger’s seed filling your cunt, hitting against your womb. His weight falls on you momentarily, leaving kisses along your back while his energy is slowly sucked out of him. His cock slips out and before his heavy eyes close over, he gazes at the cum dripping from your slit, groping your ass for a better view.
Digger gathers his senses, only noticing you struggling to get up from your stiff knees. He brings you onto his lap, soothing your legs and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Well, that was something…” He chuckles, “Ya think we got a little carried away?”
“I think I’ll never be able to walk again,” you joke, yet anticipated the next few days entailing leg pain.
He felt guilty, knowing to make up for it he would need more than pizza and beer. He continues to sooth your legs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.
“How’s about I run you a bath?” He suggests.
There he is again, that beacon of hope. He is going to find it hard to get rid of you now. “That’d be amazing.”
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rainylana · 2 years
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“Yup, that’s my wife.”
Eddie Munson x reader
summary: this is a part two of “i think i’m in love.” i wasn’t even going to make another part but you guys all demanded it lmao.
for those who wanted tagged<3
@imdoingbetternow @imangy @ahzysauce
@moonymatt @your-starless-eyes-remain @catherinnn
warnings: omg this is so fluffy i can’t. some language, eddie and dustin being chaotic as hell. it’s just so cute lmao. i know nothing of dnd so that’s a warning all by itself.
a/n: honestly should i just make this a series?? i think i could figure out a way to continue to build it. idk, let me know! Also, my requests are open! send me something!
update! i did make this a series lol, part three is here
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“She’s coming right?”
“What time did you tell her?”
“You think we should clean up a bit? It’s a shithole in here.”
“Fuck, she’s gonna hate it. I know it. Not even married yet and we’ve gotten divorced.”
The hellfire club was in shambles, running and zooming around the school basement preparing for your big arrival. Eddie’s heart raced as the clock ticked on, his fingers twitching at his sides to see you again. You’d left a sweet taste in his mouth all day long, his mind could not leave your gentle, smiling face. He knew he was falling head over heals, but could you blame him? He wasn’t used to any woman being interested in what he said, nor did they ever want to hang out with him. This was new, and he was going insane.
“Jesus, why am I dusting!” Mike coughed. “I don’t think she’s gonna care if there’s dust, Eddie. I mean, you’ve got Gareth and Jeff sweeping!”
“Shut up, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped his fingers, standing on the dnd table as he tampered with the light fixture. “We needed to clean up anyways, this just gave us an excuse.”
“I picked her some flowers!” Dustin smiled tooth-fully, bringing some wild flowers out of his back back.
“What! No!” Eddie jumped off the table, his feet smacking against the floor. “She’s mine, Henderson. I saw her first.”
“Technically, I did.” Mike crossed his arms, earning a synchronized ‘shut up’.
“Give me those!”
“Fuck no! Go pick some yourself, I think I saw some grass outside-”
Your knock sounded loudly throughout the room, causing flinches and everyone to shut the hell up. Dustin hurriedly placed the flowers on the table behind him, stepping forward to open the door, but he was snatched back by the collar as Eddie yanked him backwards.
“Mine, Henderson.” He whispered, giving the freshman a death glare. He fixed his hair anxiously, straightening his wrinkled shirt as he looked about the room. “Look presentable.” He ordered, and they blindly straightened their posture.
He took a deep breath, begging a god he didn’t believe in to get him through the night. He opened the door, his face melting into a smirk at the sight of you. “Looks like Barbie showed.” He said over his shoulder, and you giggled under his stare.
“Think I wasn’t going to show?” You asked, making your way into the room as he shut the door behind you.
“Don’t take it personally, kiddo,” He took your arm in his to give you the grand tour, and you blushed awkwardly with a sly grin. “You just keep blowing our minds every chance you get. Anyways! You remember Dustin.” He gestured with his other hand, smirking a villainous glare at the boy as he held your arm.
“Yes, hi! How are you?” You smiled, tilting your head.
“Hey, uh,” He cleared his throat, reaching behind him to grab the flowers. Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I actually picked-”
“I picked these for you.” Eddie snatched the flowers out of his hand, petals dropping to the floor. “Here. Hope you like- well, whatever these are.”
You chuckled at their interaction, observing the messy picked flowers in hand. “Thank you.” You looked to both of them, dropping Eddie’s arm as you turned around. “So this is the game?” Your eyes danced amongst the pieces, your hands ghosting over the dice and other figures.
Perhaps you were crazy, showing up for some supposed “demon summoning” board game with a bunch of people you didn’t know. But what did you have to loose? Besides, it had been many years since you felt comfortable with a group like this. Besides, you felt more at home with the outcasts than with anyone else. They were obviously flirty, you knew that from the get-go, but they were harmless. And you liked Eddie. He was handsome and funny, had a charismatic energy about him that made you feel welcomed. You didn’t feel that often.
Your presence stuck out in the room, and while you were focused on the game pieces, everyone was staring at you, their mouths hanging open as you brought the 20 sided dice up to your eyes. Eddie nearly fainted at the sight. Never once, had a girl touched those pieces. Never once, had a girl played dnd with him before. Oddly enough, it felt like a date to him.
You had on skinny jeans, a baby pink, long sleeve shirt that clung your body. Your hair was let loose, curls flowing down your back with a pink bow, resting on the back of your head. You had on little pearl earrings, a singular silver ring that had your birthstone on it. Emerald. August. Your white converse were spick and span clean, unlike everyone else’s.
“Is this the-” You went to ask again, but froze when you seen everyone’s eyes on you. You clamped your mouth shut, looking at Eddie awkwardly.
“Sorry,” Eddie scratched the back of his head. “Here, we should- let’s get started then!” He announced, embarrassed that he was caught staring.
“Hey,” Dustin poked your shoulder, whispering quietly as everyone got in their seats. “You can sit by me if you want.”
“Actually, Henderson,” Eddie nearly shouted over his sheep, standing at the head of the table. “She’s sitting on the throne tonight.” He smiled widely, his teeth reflecting off the light as he patted the throne, scooting out the chair.
Everyone gasped at the sight. No one sat in that chair besides him.
He took your hand to help you into the seat, quickly looking over your delicate ring. His looked a lot bigger. It was weird for everyone to see Eddie sitting beside you, in just a regular chair, but you, however, looked spectacular.
“Wow,” You giggled, stretching your hands out in front of you. “All I need is a crown.”
They chorused your laughter like obedient followers. You were the ruler now. Eddie’s little dungeon master in training. “So,” You looked to him. “Let’s play.”
His lips curled into a slow smirk. Yeah, he was definitely in love.
You were there for almost five hours, and sleep deprivation creeped in, though you didn’t care. Dungeons and Dragons was the coolest game you’d played since twister, and that was years ago. You had gotten so into it, and everyone cheered you on as you got your feet wet into the game.
It was hard to learn at first, but they walked you through every step and made sure you understood everything. Eddie practically held your hand throughout the entire game, like a parent worried their toddler wouldn’t survive without their grip. It shocked him how easily you were able to catch on, and even though you made a mistake here and there, or mispronounced something, he wouldn’t correct you.
It had gotten to the point where you were subconsciously flirting with him, though you weren’t even really aware of it. He just made you so comfortable, and for once in your life, you didn’t feel the need to fake having a good time. Your life was hard, harder than others, sometimes. You felt guilty for thinking that, because you knew you were lucky to have the family you did. Still, even with the family you had, you felt incredibly lonely. Tonight you didn’t though.
“Do you have a way to get home?” Eddie glanced up, finishing putting away the game pieces. Everyone had pretty much left, besides you two. You insisted on staying and helping clean up, so that meant that he was going to stay. Dustin didn’t even try to get a word in, it was obvious Eddie wasn’t going to budge. He politely said goodbye, awkwardly patting your shoulder and sending knives to his buddy. Or, ex buddy.
“I drove.” You smiled, pushing in chairs. “I don’t live very far away.”
He nodded, mouth opening and closing as he thought about what to say. “Are you- well, you plan on sitting with us tomorrow?”
“Oh,” You gulped, blushing. “I’d like to, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He rushed, messing with his hair. “I like you. I mean, we like you. The kids and I. You’re pretty. Fun, you’re pretty fun!” He rambled, turning as he shoved the game box into a drawer.
You kept in your laugh, lips pursing together. “Okay.” You nodded, brushing off your hands. “Cool.”
You looked around for anymore trash, hoping to stay longer. “I guess I should go.” You grabbed your back, slinging it over your shoulder.
“Okay.” He walked over to the door, opening it for you. You stopped in front of him, and he smiled awkwardly. “Thank you for tonight.” You said genuinely, ignoring the urge to smile like an idiot. “I mean it, I had a lot of fun. You think I could play again sometime?”
His heart leaped, eyes growing into heart shapes like a damn cartoon character. “Yeah! Of course, sure. I’ll even get you a crown for next time.” He chuckled while you did the same.
You didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want you too, either. You knew you’d die of embarrassment later, but you stepped closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in an awkward, yet sweet hug.
“Oh,” He muttered softly, stiffening at the contact. He brought up a hand to pat your back, pursing his lips.
You pulled away and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Eddie.”
“Goodnight.” He smiled, closing the door behind you. He listened to the sound of your shoes until he couldn’t anymore, and he sighed loudly and dramatically.
“Yup, that’s my wife.”
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yzzart · 6 months
Text
day off, and just enjoy!
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.
summary: you and Tom try to enjoy your free time with each other's company and competing against each other.
word count: 1.315!
notes: a more domestic, relaxed scenario ran through my head and i felt i needed to write it down. — i hope you like and enjoy
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"The right amount is seven cards, right?" — Shuffling the cards, trying to adjust them to be distributed in a random order and not letting any go uncontrolled, your boyfriend asked.
Replying to some messages, and some tweets that Rachel chose to make and tagging you, and then, sharing your latest post on your story, — Coincidentally, in the same second, Tom's cell phone vibrates with a notification. — you take your attention away from the device, turning it off, and direct your eyes to your boyfriend.
"Right!" — Your head nodded in confirmation, and your fingers tapped, lightly, on the wooden table. — "There is another way to play with more cards but I think this is better." — And it seemed to be more complicated and a little more time-consuming, like that, you thought.
It was their time off, some moments of rest and focusing on things and opportunities that could distract your minds. — Since the premiere of 'The ballad of songbirds and snakes', there have been extremely long and very busy days with so many interviews, presentations, participation in programs and premiere nights; which were incredible, brought different emotions to each of the cast and so much pleasure and happiness. — The union, the feeling of everyone being together was unique and inexplicable.
Mentioning that your work schedules are still full was not some kind of exaggeration, and that, with each event, more plans were planned in the future. — After all, it wasn't a lie to say that you were already used to all of this. — Therefore, a few days of rest were more than necessary.
"Here it is." — The cards were distributed in the correct manner and quantity, and those that remained, and which would be used to be bought, were left next to you. — "Just wait a minute, darling." — Tom warned, while taking his cell phone.
While you were organizing and judging your cards, wondering if they could actually lead to a good game for you, your cell phone vibrates as a sign of some notification and, instantly, the screen lights up showing you what it was. — A like on your story from such a familiar profile. — Your lips curved into a genuine and beloved smile, feeling like a teenager in love.
The fact that you and Tom kept notifications on, from your profiles, from each other was cute; at the same time, without wasting a second, as if you wanted to break some kind of record, in any post, among the first likes and comments, your users were there. — Fans thought this was one of the funniest and most beautiful things.
And things like you and Tom were each other's fans were always mentioned in tweets and compilations.
Leaving his cell phone near the group of cards and before picking up his set of cards, Tom looks at you and winks in your direction; you laughed, unable to contain yourself.
"Who goes first?" — You asked, slightly swinging your legs under the table, moving the cards again and waiting for the first round of the game.
"Oh please, ladies first." — Supporting his cards, already organized, in one hand, Tom made a reference to a knight of a certain era with his other hand; your foot poked his calf, finding his act funny.
You started the game with a green card numbered two, after all, it was the color that was most present in your cards. — A possible strategy, perhaps? And you hoped it would work. — Quickly, Blyth opted for a card of the same color but numbered five.
"After the winter camp…" — Tom's voice in a concentrated but so soft tone exclaimed in your ears, taking away, a little, your attention from choosing the card. — "What will be our next trip?" — Still in the same color, you add a number four.
"We need to go through there again." — You commented, reminding him that you said the same thing when you were with him at the table. — "Let me think." — Tom put the same number but in blue, you clicked your tongue, unhappy with the absence of the color in your set.
"So that means you don't have that color." — He laughed, fixing this information in his head; Ignoring his provocation, you bought a card and, coincidentally, it came with the same number but, again, in a different color. — Yellow.
"I'm thinking about spending time in a forest, that has a cabin near a beautiful, huge river." — Indicating, directly and indiscreetly, a reference to the movie's scene, you suggested. — "And an opportunity to fish and jump in it." — Understanding what it was about, Tom's laugh settles in the room and warms your heart.
"Not including hair being dyed blonde, i will be by your side, my love." — Tom bit his lip, continuing to vibrate his laugh, and provoking the fact that everyone was asking, or rather begging, for him to definitely become blonde. — "And it wouldn't be a bad idea, really."
During his answer, he had placed a card with the same number but, of course, with a different color, it was red; and a simple, brief moment of relief because you had a yellow card disappeared into thin air. — Once again, you drew a card and once again, out of pure irony, you draw a card with the same number but colored green.
Maybe, your game was on a good track. — Or your luck was definitely in an ironic direction.
"That's not possible?" — Complained the oldest, with his eyebrows arched and his mouth half open; you shrugged, causing a smug frown. — "Can you tell me." — He placed a card numbered eight and colored green and, quickly, you added another green card with a different number.
And so, the game arrived at a time when there were only two cards left in your hand; accompanied by the intriguing information that they were the same color, green. — Finally, you had an opportunity to play that yellow card, which didn't have a good moment and was prevented from being used.
In Tom's hands there were also the presence of two cards; If they were identical in color, you didn't know that and had no idea whatsoever. — But his eyes were focused on your cards and, soon, he paid attention to your face, observing every point and expression that existed on it. — Along with that sideways smile, without showing his teeth, anxiously waiting for your move.
You weren't betting anything, but in the next round, you will probably go, let alone compete, seriously; however, if an outsider saw the current situation, they would automatically think of a competition. — And without joking or exaggerating.
In a delicate and risky moment, you played one of your green cards; leaving just a card between your fingers and looking deeply into those blue eyes, waiting for his turn. — Tom took, at least a little longer than usual, to play; as if he was thinking about what, exactly, to do. — Oh, another heavy mind with strategy.
However, those two cards, which were left in your boyfriend's hand, form just one thin and small set. — As if it were just one. — And, slowly, they are positioned on top of the card you had placed. — They were two blue cards, twins and with the same number as your card.
"I won!" — Tom exclaimed, with a triumphant smile and moving, just a little and dramatically, the chair away from the table; as he tilted his head in amusement and waiting for something from you. — "I feel like we should have bet something."
"I don't believe." — Leaving the card on the table and crossing your arms, thinking about your mediocre strategy, which passed on a gravel path, apparently, you spoke. — "The chance was between my fingers!" — Tom laughed shamelessly at your reaction and received another poke from your foot on his leg.
"Ready to lose again, my sweetheart?" — He asked, crossing his arms on the table, looking at you.
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adora-but-ginger · 6 days
Text
Ardently Yours
ardent (adjective): to fall into strong feelings for or to develop a crush; to begin to love
pairing: spencer reid x psychic! gender neutral reader
synopsis: the four times where you almost call spencer by his first name, and the one time that you do
warnings: typical cm talk and discussions, a quick undercover case, spencer reid is NOT straight, honestly assume that any character i write for isn't straight, food mentions, swearing (probably), nervous spencer at the end, me having a bias towards glasses reid
masterlist
word count: ~5k
a/n: here is the next installment for my psychic reader collection! i spent a lot of time and effort on this one, and i have not written something this long in awhile, so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do!
want to be tagged? let me know!
not proofread whoops again
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credit to gif owner!
i.
"Why do you drink coffee when you don't even like it?" You were by the kitchenette as Spencer rolled up for his morning caffeine fix, caught off guard by the realization that he wasn't alone.
He turned to you, adding sugar into his beverage. "Caffeine is a stimulant that increases your brain and nervous system's alertness. We work really odd hours. I don't understand what you're asking." The flow of sugar didn't stop until he was almost done talking, your eyes widening every second he kept pouring.
"Yes but aren't there other drinks that get the same result? Why coffee when you obviously don't like the taste?" You watched as he stirred the sugar-with-a-dash-of-coffee drink together, combining the ingredients.
He shrugged as he pushed up his glasses to sit better on his nose. "It's what's easily available."
"Hmm." You scrunched your eyebrows together. "Do you like tea?"
"I much prefer tea, actually." A wisp of hair fell in front of his face, and you were tempted to push it away. You weren't going to, that was absurd. But you were tempted. You had just reached a truce not too long ago and put your differences aside, meaning you had to make every moment count if you wanted to keep the peace.
Reid surveyed the room before continuing, as to watch for any possible intruders. "Last time I walked in with tea though, Morgan commented on my cup and would only talk to me in a horrible British accent the rest of the day." A small smile crept onto his features. "Learned that lesson quite quickly."
Now that you didn't seethe at the sight of him, you were able to read Reid better. Six months into the BAU now and you were able to have civilized conversations with the genius, progress that you valued as you got to know him. He was skeptical of what you could do with your mind still, but at least he was less vocal about it.
Something was different this morning though, but that may just be on your side. Because at seven a.m. sharp Spencer walked into the bullpen with those frames of his adorning his face, something that he hadn't done since the first month you were here. Why was that a problem? Because you couldn't keep your eyes off of him.
Maybe it was the change, or maybe it was something else, but you were put into a daze the first few seconds you saw him.
You came back to reality just in time for him to make his leave, and you made the collective decision to make a pit stop on the way in tomorrow if there were no cases announced today. You needed a change of pace in your morning routine anyway. At least, that's what you told yourself as you walked back to your desk, getting Emily's attention before striking up a riveting conversation with her regarding her weekend plans.
--
The next day when you walked into the office, you were balancing two drinks, one pastry, and a load of anxiety in your hands. You were the first one there, showing up a half an hour early as Spencer appeared twenty minutes early on the dot without missing a day. You had stopped by the café next to your apartment on your way here, getting yourself a drink and ordering a tea for Spencer that felt right. You didn't know what he usually had, but your mind searched his the day before to get a good grasp of the basics.
You knew that he had a big thing with germs (which was completely justified) and so you delicately laid down a folded napkin as a coaster for his tea before writing a little note of what it was. You signed with your initials before rounding to your own desk, just in the nick of time. You glanced down at your watch as it struck twenty-to, and watched nonchalantly as Reid walked into the office, immediately noting your presence and giving an awkward wave. The rest of the team filed in not too long after, and before you knew it you had lost a few hours to paperwork. It wasn't until midday that you felt a presence near your desk, the energy telling you it was Reid before you even looked in his direction.
"You got me baked goods. And a drink. Why?"
"The tea is caffeinated, and it's green--I know some people have sensitivities to other bases but usually green is a safe bet. It was no big deal, I had a couple punch cards that I turned in for free goodies so please don't think you owe me anything."
He awkwardly leaned against the side of your desk, trying to find a place to stick his hands. "Why did you do it?"
"Why do you think I did it?"
"I'm not sure. I looked up the shop on the cup and it's ten minutes in the opposite direction from here, you didn't go out of your way did you?"
Yes, you totally did. "No not at all, it was on my way."
He squinted at you, knowing you were telling a fib but not confident enough to call it out.
"Plus, I get the feeling you like pastries of the sort."
A smile flashed across his face. "I do, actually, the one you got is my favorite type."
You shot him a wink. "I thought so. You like the drink too?"
His shoulders slumped into a more relaxed response as the conversation went on. "I did, I never had that type before, but it was quite nice. The flavors were all very balanced, and I appreciated the sugar packets you brought along with it." He stood up, beginning to head back to his desk. "Thank you."
"Anytime Reid."
Were you there long enough to use his first name? It was a tricky thing, names, because some didn't mind being on a first-name basis from the get-go, but Reid was different.
It almost fell from your lips just then too, as he was walking away.
Maybe today wasn't the day, but you hoped soon it would be.
ii.
You were called into a case before you could finish your Saturday morning routine, and by midday the jet was taking you to Kentucky. with the woods surrounding you on pretty much all sides. That plus the humidity ever present equaled a very irritable team.
It was two days in when the profile was given, but your focus was on one of the local cops at the department. You didn't want to make it a big deal, but your incessant glaring was clearly making him uncomfortable. He was hiding something. Prentiss was the one to cue you first, nudging your arm after realizing you weren't letting up on your stare down.
"What is it? Everything alright?" She crossed her arms as she followed your line of sight.
"Yeah, it's just something's off."
"What's off?" Spencer appeared seemingly from nowhere and perched himself on your other side.
"Oh, hey Reid." Emily nodded in your direction. "They're reading Mr. Cowboy Boots over there." Sure enough, the cop had a pair on that did not match the uniform at all.
"His aura is different." You squinted as he gathered up some paperwork. "Most of the people in this office have an uncomfortable energy, but his is just...different. Not a good different either." A moment of silence filled the air. "Plus, I hate that toupee of his. It looks like a joke." He turned towards the three of you and you all glanced in separate directions, trying but failing to look like you hadn't just been studying him.
"The way he flows just doesn't match the energy of the others, and I'm going to figure out why."
"How can you tell?" Spencer looked from the man in question to the other locals, trying to understand an inch of what you were saying.
You kicked off from the wall you were slouching against before starting on your way towards him. "I just can. Give me a minute." And off you went.
You just needed to strike up small talk with him, really look into his eyes to try and uncover your rising suspicions. You were in earshot of Emily and Reid still, and it didn't take you long to understand why you were feeling the way you were.
Nodding as an exit cue, you booked it toward your two coworkers. "Call Garcia." You closed your eyes for a second, focusing your thoughts. "He knows the unsub. I don't know how, but either through friendship or familial ties, Boots over there is familiar with these murders.
"All you did was discuss tomorrow's weather, how can you know?" Spencer looked at you, confusion written all over those chiseled cheekbones.
You hummed as you reached out to flick an invisible piece of dust from his sweater vest. "His heart, it tells a story. A story of betrayal, of protecting a secret. Not like a typical hidden truth, but something much, much darker. He's inserting himself into this case as much as he can because of it." He reached for his found to send Penelope your info, no matter how apprehensive he was about it. You could tell he was unsure, but if it meant getting one step closer to catching this killer, he wasn't going to question it. Not now at least.
He picked up his phone, adjusting his glasses as he did so. "Hey, Garcia? We need you to check something out."
Emily went to relay the information to Gideon, and you took a moment to admire the boy genius. You had to admit that ever since you two started getting along, you were seeing him in a new light. A light that you wished minded its own damn business. His awkwardness was adorable, and when he showed up to the case today wearing those glasses of his, well, you had to pencil in a cold shower for later.
Whether he knew it or not, he truly was gorgeous.
You weren't planning to acknowledge those feelings anytime soon though. There was a killer on the loose and this was the last thing you needed to be thinking about right now.
"He hasn't slept since the beginning of the case either. Those bags under his eyes are days old and he--" Spencer stared at you as he telephoned your information to Garcia's side. "He has a grass allergy. That last part isn't important, I just needed to let someone else know that I knew that too." You mumbled the last part of yourself, looking briefly out towards the cloudy evening.
He turned towards you, shooting you a confused look. He covered the phone with his hand. "You can tell if someone has an allergy?"
You shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I can." You squinted your eyes at him, and you two had worked together enough now that he knew you were reading him. "You're allergic to pollen." The lack of reaction from him was reaction enough. "And peaches? Cantaloupe, too."
The corner of his eye twitched, and you smirked at your victory. He resumed his attention to the phone. "Garcia, they're freaking me out again, reading my mind."
Maybe you two were friends. Friends call each other by their first names, right? You silently tested it out on your tongue.
Gideon's voice grabbed the two of you's attention before his name could fall from your lips.
iii.
You were not a fan of going undercover. It was a part of the job that you thankfully didn't have to exercise much of, but whenever the opportunity arose, you did your best to avoid it. It was uncomfortable, especially when you fit the victimology to a tee. You had a weapon tucked away as a fail-safe, but there you were, sitting alone in a bar with a glass untouched in front of you.
Act as though you had a fresh break-up, he's going after people who seem heartbroken.
Make sure not to draw too much attention.
Let us know the moment he leads you out. Click the pen and we'll be sent an alert.
You were a decent actor, but it felt weird knowing that you were practically bait for this case. It didn't help that you hated the bar setting, the sticky floors, questionable seats, and dim lighting. Not to mention they were always overcrowded whenever you went. No, you'd much rather be at home, or honestly anywhere rather than here.
"Any updates?" Reid's voice sounded through your earpiece, relaxing you a little. The team was strategically placed outside the establishment, with Spencer also somewhere within the pool of people inhabiting this bar. Back-up, he called it, though you were pretty sure that you'd be a better shot than he was. Plus, he hated this setting even more than you. So why was he here?
You tried to search for him, attempting to find the brunette in the mass of people. You caught someone's eyes in the process, quickly locking theirs with your own before moving on.
Here we go.
The man fit the profile to a tee, and noticing that you were alone started to make his way to you.
You swirled your drink in your hand as he sauntered up to you. Even if you weren't here undercover, you wouldn't go near this guy with a jousting pole. Time to put on the charm.
"Well hey there, you look lonely."
You put on an overly friendly smile. "Oh, you're too kind."
"Mind if I take a seat?"
One glance at him and you knew. This was your guy. You clicked the alarm disguised as a pen, and now you just had to get him out of the bar. "Go right ahead."
It took ten minutes before you could get anywhere, and by the time you convinced him to leave with you, you wanted to retch--his grubby hands were laying on your shoulder, rubbing it as he walked alongside you, other hand on the small of your back.
You were definitely making sure that as a reward for putting up with this, you had your paperwork covered for at least a week.
One moment you felt the fresh evening air, the next you heard shouts from all sides. But then you felt cold metal against your neck, and you realized this was going to take a little longer than expected. This is exactly why you hated going undercover.
"Put the guns down or they get it." You hadn't been on this side of the job yet, being held hostage with your teammates staring down the possibility of what one wrong move could mean.
"Statistically, killers like you try to take the path of police-assisted suicide in a situation like this, but you can make it out with a life sentence if you're smart about it. Either way, you'll never see what life looks like out of cement walls." Reid's voice sounded from behind you, as you welcomed the wave of relief that swept over you as his voice hit your ears. "Choose wisely."
You sensed it before it happened. You kicked his kneecap in as he went to swipe at you, and though you ended up with pain lightly searing against your clavicle, there Reid was, handcuffing him before handing him over to Morgan.
Spencer noticed your wound and moved towards you. "Is it deep?"
You shook your head. "No, just stings."
"I had eyes on you the entire time. I know it was really busy in there, but I was there. Just in case. I didn't lose you, you were safe." He waited a second before continuing. "Let's go get that cleaned up, it's pretty nasty looking."
You sent a smile at the man. "Thank you. Seriously, Spen--"
Gideon called both of your names before you could finish the sentence, leaving his first name still unknown on your lips.
iv.
The weather was just starting to clear again. It wasn't humid in D.C. and the temperature was at a steady rise, though it was still bearable. You had been talking with Hotch about weekend plans, which you had to admit was a little odd.
It wasn't that you and Aaron didn't get along, per se, but you two had just never sought the other out during non-work hours. He was telling you about his partner, Hailey, who sounded lovely. You'd never seen the man as lively as when he was talking about her.
"And then she offered to go to the art gallery to see the new exhibit, which I didn't even know about."
"You like art?" You were leaning against his desk with a cup of coffee in hand.
"I do. What about you, any events planned?"
You shook your head. "No, just me and my fish catching up on some reading hopefully."
"You know Reid reads too?" Hotch looked over to the man of the hour who was coincidentally staring back, quickly glancing away as if caught.
"Reid reads. There has to be a pun in there." You snorted at your words, shrugging afterward. "He reads books that I have no interest in though, and I distinctly remember hearing about his disdain for fiction, which is my forte."
"I'm sure if you asked him, he would." He paused for a moment before shuffling some papers. "You two could start your own book club."
This was the thing with Aaron, you could never tell if he was joking.
"In fact, he's coming this way now." Surprise scribbled onto your face as you turned to look behind you. Sure enough, like he'd been summoned, there was Spencer striding over. His contacts must have been picked up because he was bare-faced today, which made no difference to you--your heart still skipped a beat. You noticed he was giving off lots of nervous energy as he approached, though from the outside he looked relatively relaxed.
"Why are you nervous Reid?" Never one to beat around the bush, you were.
That relaxation quickly dissipated as he looked towards you and Hotch. His eyes met yours. "How do you--never mind. Do you have a second?"
You nodded. "Hotch, tell me how the exhibit goes, yeah?" With a nod from Aaron, you met Spencer halfway, motioning him to lead the onward. "What's up?"
He didn't speak until you got to his desk. "First, before I say anything, know that I do not mind at all if you say no."
"Okay...?" You watched him skeptically as he fiddled with his hands, looking at you every few seconds before surveying the room. "What, are you about to ask me on a date or somet--"
"I have two tickets to the star show they're hosting at the planetarium on Saturday, and I know that you love the constellations. I've been once before and it was really nice, they tell you all about the patterns and legends behind each one and I think you'd really like it. Penelope suggested I ask you since you usually are relatively free on the weekends, which isn't a bad thing of course. In fact, I don't usually do much on the weekends besides going to the park and playing chess with the regulars there." He was rambling, truly on edge about how'd you respond. A smile started to rise on you. "It's later in the evening so when you leave the planetarium you can see the stars in question, but it's not too far from my place and you do not have to go if you're busy or don't want to, I just thought I'd ask."
His eyes were wide as you ate up every one of his words. His voice was like the harmony of your favorite song--you loved to pick it out and listen to how each of the words he spoke flowed. His face had a tint of rose on it, and a piece of hair had fallen into his eyes. You had to once more withhold from pushing it back into place.
"I would love to go, where would you like to meet?"
Shock was written all over his features at your accepting of his invitation, and you were pretty sure he was already preparing a proper response to a rejection when you said your words.
"You want to go?"
A nod accompanied you. "Yeah, you can teach me all about the science and I can teach you all about your star sign."
He shot you a quizzical glance before relaxing his shoulders. Man, he was really tense. "Okay. Okay, great! I can send you my address. We can walk there from my place, it's only about ten minutes away. It's at 7 pm, does that work?"
"Works perfect for me." A thought popped into your head, one that could make this outing seem to be much more than it really was. "That's a little past when I eat, want to grab dinner beforehand?"
He scrunched his eyebrows at you. Uneasiness started to form in your belly, maybe you were being a little too bold. "What type of dinner? Restaurant dinner or takeout dinner?"
"We could do takeout? You said you know a 24-hour Thai place around here, right? It's one of your favorite places in the area."
He was almost caught in a trance then, looking nearly through you, staring at you with an expression you had never really seen on his face before. "You remembered that?"
"Of course I did, I remember things about the people I care about."
He couldn't speak for a second after your words. Yeah, you were definitely being too bold.
"You--" His voice cracked and you almost chuckled as he cleared his throat. "--I'll grab some food from there before we head out. Want to stop by around six?"
"Six it is. See you there, boy wonder." You shot a wink his way. "And thank you for the invite, I cannot wait to go." His first name was on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out at the slightest egging on. He looked almost expectantly at you and you had to remind yourself of where you were and who you were with.
This wouldn't be considered a date, would it?
v.
Spencer totally thought this was a date. He could count the number of dates he'd been on on his hand, and most of them were with Ethan. It'd been a while since he'd gone out, and he was nervous.
What if he was overdressed? What if he was underdressed? What even was the dress code for the night? What if you didn't show up?
He tried to not let that last thought get to him because if it did then he would spiral and would all in all not have a good time tonight. This wasn't platonic, right? He didn't think it was. Did you? Did--
A knock at his door interrupted his ruminating. He scrambled to make sure he looked presentable, heart practically thrumming against his rib cage as he did so. There was just one problem.
He couldn't see.
It wasn't that he hated how he looked with his glasses on, but it made him feel self-conscious and he hated to wear the frames outside of his house. The only problem was that the last of his contacts had dried out, and he really wanted to look nice for your guys' outing. He could not see more than five feet in front of him for his life, which in retrospect kind of ruined the whole point of looking at the stars.
That didn't matter in his mind as long as it impressed you. He knew that he shouldn't dress to impress, but you and your alternative methods of profiling had snuck their way into his brain and refused to leave. He thought about whether you'd do the daily crossword with him almost every morning. He made sure to always bring an extra morning snack in the case that you got hungry. Hell, he was writing to his mother about you.
He was in much farther than he knew.
A second round of knocks sounded at the door.
He opened it after looking through the peephole and nearly lost his breath.
You were stunning, and he felt more out of his element than he had in years.
Wow, he was really in deep.
"Phew, I thought I had the wrong address at first. I am so ready for some Thai and stars!" You entered his place, but his mind was still a few steps behind. "This place is beautiful, and so...you!" Neat piles of books were stacked in rows alongside his couch, and as he went to readjust one's positioning his lack of visual clarity made him trip.
Great.
You rushed over to him, careful to keep your distance but still close enough to offer help if he asked. "Woah, are you alright there?"
"Yeah, I-I just must've not seen where I was heading." He could feel the dust adorning his cheeks. He was totally making a fool out of himself. "Please, take a seat at the table, the food is still hot."
You smiled and nodded, taking in the contents of his home whilst sitting down. He went over and grabbed the Thai food, bringing it over to the table. He set the food down and went to sit, not knowing that this was the moment before a disaster. One of the chairs must not have been fully pushed in, and with the combination of his nerves, and his blurriness, his foot got caught right over it as he went to sit across from you.
Now, you fully respected and understood Spencer's hatred of germs, so you'd apologize later for coming to the rescue. That being said, you sensed it a half a second before it was going to happen, stood up, and reached out to catch him.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" His arms were on yours, bracing them for stability. "What's wrong? Are you sick?" He could feel your eyes looking him up and down for any signs of maladies. "We can reschedule and go another night if something's wrong." He really did not want to admit the reasoning behind his clumsiness. "I can take you to the doctor's if you're feeling ill." Now he definitely had to expose himself. How would he even explain this to a medical professional?
Oh hey doc, I got told repeatedly that I look better with contacts and now the one time I need them I don't have them which ironically is the one night in years that I had to chance to go out with someone who I think I'm starting to really like so can you please give me a fake diagnosis so they didn't drive me here for nothing?
Yeah, that wasn't going to work. He had to bite the bullet. "I'm not sick." He slowly removed himself from your grasp. "I just can't see."
A concerned look graced your features. "What? Is everything okay?"
"Yes, I just--"
"You just what Reid? You can talk to me. Your energy is super wonky right now. I'm getting a little worried for you."
This was stupid. He was acting stupid. He shouldn't be embarrassed by this. You were just looking out for him, that was all, it was all probably surface level anyway. It was all--
"Spencer, what's wrong?"
His breath stifled to a halt.
"What did you just say?"
Your concerned look deepened.
"I asked what was wrong."
You had never called him by his first name before.
He shook his head. "No, before that." His eyes met yours. "You've never said my first name before."
A flash of...regret? nerves? shot through your eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries. I should've asked--"
"Say it again." He properly sat down. "My name I mean, say it again. Please."
"You're not mad?" You were tentative with your words now, adding his name after a beat. "...Spencer?"
His name formed like the first rain shower after a draught on your lips, falling with the grace of the autumn leaves from your tongue.
"You've never called me that before." His expression was shy, and man he wished he could see more than your blurry figure right now. "I, uh, thought I could go without my glasses tonight, but I also don't have my contacts."
"Would you like me to call you that more?" You were going to make him go into freaking cardiac arrest. He nodded fervently. Your shoulders slightly lost some of their tension. "Why would you do that to yourself? You wouldn't be able to see."
"Statistically those who wea--"
"Spencer."
Oh, he was turning to putty now. You were going to kill him, and he didn't mind.
"I thought I would look better without them."
A scoff emitted from you. "If you need them to see, you need them to see. Don't change your appearance for the approval or interest of someone else." He felt the red rush up his neck, around his ears. "Plus," You added with a quieter tone. "I think you look plenty good with them on." You locked eyes. "Gorgeous, even. There's a reason Morgan calls you pretty boy, you know."
Gorgeous? You just called him gorgeous. No one had called him that before.
"Really?"
"Really, Spencer."
Yeah, he was done for.
taglist:
@alllriseabove @kitty-kei @donttrustlove @jiuseoks
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turtletaubwrites · 16 days
Text
Numbers Game ~ Part 18
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Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks
Numbers Game Masterlist
Word Count: 9508
Ao3 Link
Summary: Old friends reconnect, Buggy shows off his work, and you feel time moving by too fast. How can you enjoy the day when your world is falling apart?
Author's Note: This is the first chapter where I still think a lot of you will hate it, but I don't care as much because I'm super proud of it, lol. Although I realllyyy hope you like it!!! It's a rollercoaster 😵 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)
Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)
!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc
Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Biting, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-Pulling, Cunnilingus, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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“You know, I can’t help but be curious,” Shanks wondered aloud, taking a sip of black coffee. He smirked at you from the newly added table on the balcony, the single round one wasn't nearly large enough for the appetites, or the sheer space that all these pirates demanded. 
“What’s that they say about cats,” Crocodile grumbled, tossing a napkin onto his empty plate before snagging the paper from Mihawk to flatten out on the table. He stared down at the page, giving the air of not caring whether the red headed guest lived or died, let alone replied.
Buggy floated his hand toward you from the second table. His body was so close to his old friend, but his smile was on you while he kept feeding you bits of fruit as he had all morning, his thumb rubbing over your lips when sweet juice would spill. 
Crocodile and Mihawk said nothing about it. 
But Shanks had too much to say.
“It just seems silly to me,” he continued, those brown eyes holding you in place, “that Miss Mystery Girl is keeping secrets from her lovers. Especially since they’ll be forced out of you after the party anyway. Why not share before then?”
“Leave her alone, shitbrain,” Buggy ordered, but there was no real bite in his voice. 
Your mouth went dry, the Emperor’s prodding words had twisted at your growing anxiety, even dipped in that friendly charm.
He’s right. It’ll be worse if I wait.
“Aren’t all the party guests your friends, Y/N? Do they know your little secret?”
“I think that’s enough curiosity for the day, Shanks,” Mihawk drawled as he rested a hand on the hook that had started scraping across the table.
“No worries,” Shanks winked, letting out a relaxed sigh as he stretched his arm toward the morning sun. “Your sweet, little bunny is just so darn interesting.”
“And you’re so darn annoying,” Buggy mocked, earning a playful smile from Shanks’ lips when he met those pretty, brown eyes.
“Alright, President,” Crocodile cut in while the red haired pirate leaned his face closer to your clown. Buggy perked up at the title of his position as their figurehead, his eyes a bit wide as he looked away from Shanks’ gaze. The dreamy look on his old friend’s face didn’t fade when Crocodile went on. “I’d like for us to sit in on your rehearsal this evening. Party’s in two days, we need to know what to expect.”
“Uh, sure, boss,” Buggy straightened up. You smiled to yourself as you caught his gloved fingers tapping and walking up and down his own thigh. “Let’s do dinner and a show!”
“Lovely,” Mihawk said dryly, although his eyes lingered on Buggy longer than usual before looking toward you. “I’m sure our clown will be busy preparing. Why don’t you all join me for a walk?”
“Got your garden set up yet?”
“Not at all,” Mihawk sighed at Shanks’ question, looking up at Crocodile after the larger man had huffed a laugh.
“Too busy building a cat palace, and terrorizing your other pets?”
“I have many fulfilling hobbies,” Mihawk smirked back, before narrowing his eyes at the rest of you. You and Buggy looked away quickly, while Shanks beamed at them. 
“Let’s have a tour then! I’d love to go play in the dirt,” Shanks laughed, his wicked eyes burning into you.
“Miss Y/N and I have some work to take care of,” Crocodile ordered, resting his arm across the back of your chair. If these men were slightly less terrifying, you might have laughed at their antics.
Shanks laughed for you, a low chuckle that sent shivers over your skin, still tingling after Mihawk led him away.
~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~
Shanks whistled softly, a comforting tune to keep his steps light as he followed his golden eyed friend outside this castle disguised as a circus tent.
That thought made his steps light.
Mihawk stayed silent, not a hint of lightness in his gait, except for his predator’s grace. He avoided glancing toward the source of that whistled tune he’d been humming lately until they were hidden away in the empty, walled garden, free from prying eyes.
“What exactly are you doing here, Red Hair?”
Shanks ignored the hidden threat under Mihawk’s bored voice as he chose one of the empty beds to inspect. Fisting into the soil, he let the dirt slip through his fingers, taking in the scent. 
“Think you’ll be here long enough for grapes,” Shanks rasped, standing as he tilted his head toward the other man. He wiped his hand on his thigh, huffing a laugh when Mihawk frowned at the stain of dirt on his pants. “You never change, old friend. Wanna hose me down before we go back inside? I’d hate to dirty up your shiny, new dollhouse.”
Shanks was one of the only people in the world that could notice the shift in Mihawk’s expression, his face almost sinking deeper into that lazy mask.
“You’ll never match me with cutting words, Shanks, just like you’ll never best me with a sword,” he reasoned, an unexpected tightness in his chest that he discarded, letting his body be nothing but air in this charged moment. “I’d rather not stand here all–”
“Come on, you ol’ son of a gun,” Shanks laughed, stepping across an invisible line of comfort Mihawk had drawn, touching his shoulder. “Don’t be a sourpuss. I told you I could use a little vacation, and I–”
“And you saw Buggy’s poster,” Mihawk noted, brushing that dirty hand away to wipe the evidence off of his coat. 
“You all looked real cute,” Shanks breathed, his eyes leaving heat as he dragged them down Mihawk’s skin. His lips parted into a cocky smile as he admired the column of Mihawk’s throat, and that chest covered in so many pretty scars. He smirked as he searched for some of his own making. 
“So that’s all you’re here for, then,” Mihawk asked, slipping into stillness under Shanks' hungry gaze. “Just drinking, and fucking as usual? Or just to steal our clown away?”
His hand flexed just slightly. He hadn’t meant to say those words quite like that. And the shadow that grew across Shanks’ face confirmed that he should have reined that question in. 
“Didn’t you used to call him my clown,” Shanks countered, gesturing to himself as he stepped even closer. “You know, back when you would give me shit for talking about him?”
“I…”
“Dracule Mihawk is speechless,” Shanks laughed, the sound jarring compared to the way laughter normally poured out of him. He stepped away, but only to pace in front of the swordsman, spitting words like daggers at his feet. “Always got something to say, except for now, huh? You’ve said so many things. Ooh, how about when you said I only liked my pathetic clown because of his powers, and that I’d be better off with a pretty, blue dildo? That’s definitely in my top ten. Or what about–”
“I’m sorry.”
Mihawk choked on those words, but he found himself in stillness for a different reason. A different danger.
Shanks stared, his mouth held open as if waiting to catch whatever word had been left forgotten from the shock. 
“What,” he growled, watching those glittering eyes for any hint of a feint.
“I’m sorry,” Mihawk confessed again, realizing that it was true. “I didn’t plan on–”
“Didn’t plan on fucking your best friend’s ex,” Shanks fumed, voice echoing a bit in the walled garden. “Keeping my clown as a toy? Have you used him as a fucking dildo yet, or are you still pretending to care about anyone besides your fucking cats?”
Mihawk cringed, taking each blow like a sword across his flesh. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this affected by words. 
Not words. 
Guilt. 
“I’m–”
“So how’d it happen then, old friend,” Shanks dared, anger still radiating off his skin, the air getting a little harder to breathe. “If you didn’t plan on it, did you just run around with your cock out until it landed in something?”
Mihawk tried to turn his surprised laugh into a cough, but Shanks’ eyes went manic at the sound.
“Who knew all my stoic friend needed to make him laugh was to fucking betray me. I can’t believe I’m surprised.”
“Shanks, wait–”
“Fuck off,” Shanks warned as he dodged Mihawk’s grasping hand, walking toward the exit. 
“Crocodile was going to kill him,” Mihawk called, hoping his friend would stop moving since he couldn’t seem to start. Shanks slowed, stopping to look over his shoulder, silent and waiting. “I suggested we keep him alive as our figurehead. I knew how you… I wouldn’t let him die.”
They faced off as they had countless times before, taking in every detail, every movement the other made. Shanks caught what looked like pain in those golden eyes, and his jaw clenched at the sight.
“That’s a pretty low bar for a friendship.”
After a heavy pause, Mihawk lowered his predator’s eyes, nodding as he looked toward Shanks’ feet. The swordsman was truly speechless now, nothing coming through until he braved looking back up when his friend broke the silence. 
“Are you gonna let me take him?”
“Of course,” he breathed, watching Shanks build up his walls again.
“What about Crocodile,” Shanks questioned. His lungs burned from it all, but his breathing slowed, still not sure what to feel about Mihawk’s words, about the emotion in those emotionless eyes. 
“He will. We promised Y/N,” Mihawk rasped. Shanks furrowed his brows, about to ask for more, so he continued. “She doesn’t want us to force him to stay if he wants to go, and we’ll honor that.”
Shanks tilted his head back, a heavy sigh forced out of him. Mihawk tried again, but he knew that none of the words that flew through his mind would help this moment. This guilt. 
“So it’s up to Buggy,” Shanks whispered before walking away, leaving Mihawk with his empty dirt. 
~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~
“Want me to drain the life out of him,” Crocodile grumbled as he opened the door to the lounge. True laughter let your lips now, and you took in a deep breath as you hugged his waist. The pleased hum that rumbled through him felt almost too comforting as he brushed your hair from your face. “Come here, sweetheart.”
Crocodile’s desk was comically large, and you wondered if he could hide a person in the bottom drawer. He stole your focus again, offering you a seat on his lap.
Work…
It was ridiculous how eager you were, how much you craved his attention. 
“Top drawer, darlin,” he rasped, not reaching down to meet your lips as you leaned into him. 
“Okay,” you blinked, stuck for a moment before you obeyed. The heavy wood slid open, revealing your notebook with all of your contacts, and their details. Your blood chilled when you set it on the desk, his voice taking too long to question you, leaving you in the discomfort.
“Do these people know your secret?”
Your body slumped at his question, his voice not cold or angry, but still not the way you wanted him to talk to you.
He’s never going to talk to me that way again. It’s over.
Heat built up in your throat as the grief and fear you’d been ignoring all this time crashed over you. 
“Hey,” he soothed, guiding your weak body to sit on the desk, your feet dangling between his legs as he studied you. The back of his golden hook lifted your chin. That hook you knew you should still be afraid of, but instead made you sigh, savoring its cool touch. 
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, babydoll,” he urged, and his sweetness brought a tiny choked sob from your throat. Then the sweetness was replaced with a steady calm, a voice that could tip either way. “I promised you that you could tell us after, but I need your word, Y/N. Give me your word that your secret won’t cause any problems at the party. If you can’t do that–”
“I’ll tell you,” you gave in, tears already racing down your cheeks, sobs too heavy to swallow were ripped from you until he pulled you to him.
“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” Crocodile whispered, only making your cries more painful. He held you as you ruined his silk vest, falling to pieces in his arms.
“I don’t want it to be over,” you finally managed, hating yourself for crying, for thinking you could have this. You met his eyes, wanting to shrivel up, and disappear from the concern and questions they held. “Can I… can I please have one more day?”
His pause felt like more weight tied to your limbs, dragging you under.
“Tomorrow,” he agreed, carrying you to the couch to stroke your hair, and call you pretty things while you tried to stuff all those tears back inside. 
~~~~~~
Crocodile stayed with you, the bandage on his palm tickling your skin as he left soothing touches on your arms and back while you cleaned yourself up. 
“How did you get hurt,” you choked, searching for anything that would get your mind off of it. “I thought you couldn’t…”
Regretting the question, you cowered under that frightening stare through the mirror. 
“I have a secret too,” he rasped, his breath slowing as he stared through you. “Can I trust you, sweetheart? Since you’re sharing yours…”
“I—” you started, body humming, tingling with fear and something else from the intensity in that deep voice. “I promise. I’ll keep your secret.”
Crocodile leaned over you, enveloping you to turn on the faucet. 
“Try to punch my hand, sweetheart.”
Questions filled you, but you obeyed, fascinated at the sight of his flesh turning to sand to avoid the blow. He reached lower, letting water rush over his fingers, coating the back of his hand. 
“Again.”
No hesitation as you followed his addictive voice, you gasped as your fist connected with the center of his palm, punching straight into the center of the bandage. 
“What—“
He went to his knees, turning you to face him, gripping your hand in his.
“Sand doesn’t flow when it’s wet,” he whispered, the dangers of what he was sharing sending chills through you. “I can’t protect you as well when liquid touches my skin. Remember that, sweetheart, but never speak of it.”
“Never,” you vowed, wanting to cry again from his trust in you. “I promise, daddy.”
~~~~~~
Your attempts to clean your grief away didn’t matter. Every other lover clocked the evidence in your eyes when lunch rolled around.
“Pretty star, you okay, baby?”
“I’ll be okay,” you probably lied, wondering if Crocodile would punish you if it never came true. Buggy wrapped his arms around you, trapping you in place as you caught Shanks’ gaze behind him. The crease between his brows could have been for anything, and you didn’t have the energy to guess what he was thinking.
“What happened,” Mihawk asked, an unfamiliar strain in that liquid voice as he sat you down beside him. He held your face, studying you so intensely it felt like your skin would go raw. 
“Y/N’s going to tell us her secret tomorrow instead of after the party, but we can discuss that in the morning,” Crocodile ordered as leaned back to blow smoke away from the group. “Let’s enjoy the day, the next few are bound to be hectic.”
Avoiding so many eyes ruined any appetite you might have had, but you did accept a few more pieces of fruit from your clown, his eyes going soft when you smiled.
~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~
“How the fuck am I supposed to work like this,” Buggy snapped to no one in particular, pacing as he reviewed his plans, needing everything to be perfect. 
All he could think about were Y/N’s red eyes.
And before he’d seen her like that, all he could think about was that stupid red hair. 
He checked every light, barked at every musician until they were all in tune, and snapped at the kitchen staff to coordinate dinner with the show. The clown went over every single detail until a light sheen of sweat coated his skin, making his greasepaint too shiny under the stage lights. 
Now and then, Buggy would remember that this wasn’t just a show. This was it. 
His one chance to prove that he wasn’t a worthless piece of shit.
“Which idiot left this fucking table here,” he spat, focusing on anything else. Anything but the way his pretty star had seen him bleeding on the floor, useless to protect her. Anything but the tears she must have cried today. Anything but that thing he refused to think about.
Anything but that stupid red hair.
~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~
“I’m sorry about this morning,” Shanks purred, lounging on a loveseat while he watched you twirl for Mihawk, still deciding what you should wear. “I think I’m–”
“An asshole,” you quipped, trying not to gloat as Crocodile’s pleased laughter floated through the suite. Mihawk just cleared his throat, fetching another dress. 
“Jealous,” Shanks confessed, eyes shining with amusement even as his voice went serious. “I’ve been a jealous brat, and I’m sorry, Y/N.”
Your mouth opened, but nothing came out for a long moment. The air was thick with the silence of the other men in the room. 
“A jealous brat, and an asshole,” you finally teased, the air shifting again as if time had reset itself. “Don’t forget that part.”
A shocked, yet playful grin hit his parted lips, then his eyes trailed down your body until you shivered. It hadn’t felt strange to stand there in lingerie until this moment, until the subtle bite he gave to his bottom lip before meeting your eyes again. 
“How could I forget, when I’ve got such a sweet little bunny to remind me?”
“Not yours,” Crocodile warned. 
“Of course,” Shanks conceded with a nod toward the larger man, though he never stopped watching you. 
Mihawk kissed your shoulder while he pulled you into another dress, and a bit of tension returned to your body as his silence continued. The instinctual fear that silence meant someone was mad at you made your stomach flip, but you couldn’t handle any more stress at the moment, so you shoved yet another feeling as far away as you could. 
You were grateful that his hands still touched you, even though his wicked voice was absent.
Shanks hopped up from the couch, his informal attire switched out for slightly less informal attire that suited him well. Darker fabrics, with no trace of sand, made his skin gleam as he sauntered over to you. He took your hand gently, leaning down as he gave you that disarming smile you’d seen when he first walked into your world.  
“Think you can forgive this jealous, bratty, asshole, Miss Y/N?,” he charmed, the force of it hitting you like a lovely ton of bricks. 
“Maybe,” you managed, unable to hold onto that bite in your voice. 
“I’ll take maybe,” he winked, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before Crocodile pulled your hand away. 
“Come on, sweetheart,” he prodded before leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Let’s go see our clown.”
~~~~~~
“What do you think, rabbit,” Mihawk checked in, pulling your eyes from the stage. “Will those boring, wealthy clients of yours enjoy this little show?”
Buggy was tossing daggers at his empty wheel. There was no poor soul strapped on for a spin, so Buggy called out parts of the Marine’s symbol that was freshly painted across the wood, landing every shot. Performers and dancers took turns on the small stage, music and lights bringing everything to life.
You knew Buggy was nervous, but as soon as the spotlight touched him, he was in another world. 
Your shining star. 
He led the show before and during the lavish meal, until it would be time for him to hand over the reins, time to drain as many berries as possible from the guests. His speech was the perfect amount of charming and frightening that any of those guests would be craving for their little adventure, their little holiday getaway. 
Crocodile grumbled when Buggy urged him and Mihawk to stand from their place at the long, head table beside you, shaking his head when the clown announced them as his “Executives.”
“And let’s give a round of applause for our Chief Financial Officer, the stunning and talented, Miss Y/N!”
Choking on a sip of wine, you caught Buggy’s exaggerated wink, your coughs turning to laughs as Mihawk pulled you to stand. You smiled at empty tables, pride followed by emptiness when you remembered your promise for tomorrow. 
“Sorry we didn’t have time to find a promotion gift for you, sweetheart,” Crocodile rasped as he kissed your cheek. 
“I have some ideas,” Mihawk purred, his breath teasing along your ear after he kissed your other cheek.
“Are you serious,” you laughed, your body tingling as Buggy’s head flew toward you, stealing a kiss. “I don’t need anything, this is…”
Shanks interrupted your almost tears, lifting his glass up with a shout.
“To Y/N! Buggy, can the band stick around for a bit? Your C.F.O. deserves a party!”
Buggy obeyed without a thought, and soon the air was filled with joyful music, your body starting to sway.
“May I have the first dance,” Shanks grinned, stepping around Mihawk to offer you his hand.
You could almost feel it as the bodies around you went stiff. 
“I’m a terrible dancer,” you said softly, though you couldn’t stop swaying.
“Who cares,” the Emperor laughed, the infectious sound pulling you in. “Let’s go see how much fun we can have with three hands, and three left feet.”
Your hand was in his before you realized you’d moved, and he whisked you away. No one stopped you, and soon you were giggling too much to think about why they would.
“Are you this bad too, or are you just trying to make me feel better about myself?”
“You’ll have to keep dancing to find out,” he teased before grabbing your waist, pressing his hips against you. “Maybe we just need a different dance.”
Already breathless, you stopped breathing completely when he stared down at you, pressing his hand into your lower back. You swore you could feel his pulse against your skin as you swayed together.
“I love how happy he is,” Shanks whispered, guiding you closer to the stage, the music louder with every inch. “That’s your doing, isn’t it, bunny?”
Shanks’ eyes flicked back to you from over your shoulder, and he rotated your bodies so you could look for yourself. You’d already seen Buggy laying across the table in front of Crocodile and Mihawk, alternating between watching and cheering you on, and animatedly talking to his “Executives” about the show. Now you noticed Mihawk massaging Buggy’s disconnected hand the way he always does for you when you’re sitting beside him. A tentative warmth surged through your chest, even though Mihawk dropped Buggy’s hand when he caught you looking.
“You’re running from something, aren’t you?”
The heat in his almost silent voice, and the way he guided your body against his confused the icy fear that those words shot through you. You gasped, almost moaning when he flipped you around, his knees bent a bit as he rubbed against you from behind. His fingers dug into your hip with such strength and control that your body ached to feel them inside you right there on the dancefloor. 
He leaned down, breathing against your ear, the music vibrating through you with so much force that you could barely hear him. 
“There’s no better place to run than the sea. You can be free, Y/N, and we can make him happy together. We can live his dre–”
“Mind if I cut in?”
A voice as sharp as a blade chilled your blood, but Shanks didn’t let you go just yet. He hugged you to him, kissing your cheek, and you could feel a smile on his lips before he released you. His thumb rubbed over your fingers as he lifted your hand to place into Mihawk’s, who held his outstretched while he watched Shanks’ every move.
What happened? Why are they so–
“Hello, darling,” Mihawk purred, interrupting your thoughts as he pulled your body against his. You smiled up at him weakly, moving how his hands pushed and pulled. 
“What’s wrong, pet?”
Shaking out of your daze, you blinked up into those golden, searching eyes.
“Noth–”
Fingers like daggers pressed into your back, pulling away in an instant, your gasp lasting longer than the pain. Those eyes were wide now as he scanned your face, and you held your breath.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, the words sounding strange, as if he’d just learned them. “I’d hate to tattle on you, rabbit. Although I must confess, I am morbidly curious to see what daddy does to liars.”
A nervous laugh left your throat, and he gave you a few moments to breathe as he guided your steps around the gleaming floor. 
“I’m sorry. I’m just worried,” you managed, knowing that wouldn’t be enough. His stare confirmed it, so you tried to find a way to hide without lying. 
I can’t tell them. What if they’re angry? What if they fight, or kick him out? What if Buggy can't live his dream because of me?
What if I want to—
You shut down your thoughts, the sound of Buggy’s joyful voice pulling your eyes away.
“I’m worried about what’s gonna happen with…”
Mihawk followed your line of sight, catching the old lovers laughing. Shanks’ hand rested on Buggy’s thigh while he listened to the clown’s stories, the adoration on his face so vivid it was almost funny.
Almost funny, if not for the fact that the look on Buggy’s face was starting to match it more with each passing minute in the red haired pirate’s company. 
“Is my old friend hurting you, love?”
Mihawk had stopped dancing you, tilting your chin up toward him.
“Only by existing,” you laughed, not sure if you were dizzy from dancing, or from the chaos of emotions that Shanks had made you feel since he’d invaded your life the day before. 
“Come on, Miss C.F.O.” Shanks beamed. His eyes were obscured by Buggy’s extravagant hat, sitting askew on that pretty red hair. “It’s afterparty time!”
The two of them dragged you along, almost pulling you into your old suite before other hands pulled you back into the hallway. 
“You wanna sleep in there again,” Crocodile asked, and you almost felt fear as his frustration with your guest had seemed to build and build. But all you had to do was tell him what you wanted. 
“I do,” you breathed, going on tiptoes even though you’d never be able to reach his lips on your own. “Goodnight, daddy.”
His annoyed huff held a bit of satisfaction after your words, and you melted into the kiss he gave you. 
“I’m right next door, sweet girl.”
Mihawk pulled you aside, and you waited for evil, filthy words as he pressed you against the wall of the corridor, everyone else already in their chosen suites. It was hard to tell on his bored face that he’d worn most of the day, but he seemed to be frowning at you as he ran his fingers through your hair before cradling your face. 
He didn’t say anything for too long, until you flinched at the burst of laughter from the middle suite. 
“You are not a pet.”
“W-what–”
“You are not a toy,” Mihawk continued, those whispered words sounding vicious, speeding your pulse. “Do you understand?”
You lied with a nod, not knowing what else to say to those burning, golden eyes. 
“May I kiss you,” he breathed after staring at you some more. He tasted your lips as soon as you gave another nod. 
“Mmn,” you moaned into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he kissed you with all that wicked passion you crave from him. His fingers curled into your hair, and he bit your lip before letting his tongue claim you again. 
You were whimpering, whining now, gasping as he lifted you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you lost yourself as he growled against your lips, grinding himself against your core.
“Mihawk…”
His teeth were on your neck, biting deep, biting until your body tightened with need. That sharp, growing pain was its own pleasure, and you pulled at his soft, black hair until he moaned around your skin. Slick was smearing over his leather pants, your dress hiking up until your drenched cunt rubbed over the fabric, nothing but lace panties in the way.
“Always so greedy,” Shanks purred, leaning against the doorframe. His voice was light, a friendly tease, but the hallway felt sickeningly heavy, like gravity had increased, and you’d all be crushed to the floor.
Mihawk released your neck from his teeth, but pressed his forehead against the wall for a few seconds, leaving you to stare at Shanks, then Buggy over his shoulder, and then Crocodile who opened the other door to scowl at the scene. The swordsman lowered you gently, smoothing your dress into place, and whispering in your ear while he fixed your mussed hair. 
“Just say my name,” he breathed before turning around, failing to fix his own mussed up hair.
“The little rabbit and I were just saying goodnight,” he brushed off, heading toward the door. “See you all in the morning.”
Everyone stared as he left, until Crocodile frowned at you. You gave a weak smile and a shrug, and he narrowed his eyes, but let Buggy pull you along. 
Two doors shut, leaving that heavy air to fester in the corridor.
~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~
“What the fuck was that about?”
Mihawk didn’t reply, refusing any thoughts until he had a glass of wine. Something to sip, something to hold, something to stare at.
“Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile growled, moving to loom over the man who’d just gulped down a glass of wine he’d normally savor before pouring another. “What happened? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the world’s greatest swordsman is throwing a tantrum.”
Mihawk barked a laugh, walking away from the larger man without looking up to meet his eyes. 
“You may be right,” he said wistfully, wandering through the suite until he stopped at the heavy trunks they hadn’t finished unpacking. He lifted one of the lids, revealing the pile of fantasy books Crocodile had gifted Y/N. 
Mihawk frowned at the colorful covers, thinking about his own gift. He’d remembered that she said she loved cats.
But he would have gotten Adam for himself anyway. 
Crocodile’s body was on edge, waiting for danger as he observed the man before him. It was still Mihawk, still powerful, graceful, yet his usual faces of boredom or vicious glee were dulled, and Crocodile did not fucking like it. 
Mihawk ran his fingers over one of the covers, tracing the shape of a dragon before he snatched the book up. He could feel the other man’s steely eyes as he plopped onto the loveseat by that connecting wall, a new one brought in since the scotch covered sofa had stunk up the whole suite.
Crocodile sat beside him, still watching, still waiting as Mihawk sipped his wine, and tried to read about dragons and heroes.
“Should I just guess what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”
A brief exhale, and an almost smile left the man who turned a page he hadn’t read. Still, he put it all away. Put everything away.
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need, little bird.”
Golden eyes shot up toward Crocodile, as if he’d offered a threat instead of whatever those words were. 
Crocodile bit his tongue, refusing to look away, and reveal the discomfort he felt as those words slipped past his better judgment. 
Mihawk had never had a day like this. A day when sharp words wouldn’t leave his lips, when sharp blades could do nothing for him. A day filled with so much guilt it made him unsteady. There were plenty of guilty days to forget or regret, but this one felt violent, urgent, and he didn’t know what to do with it all. 
What to do with Y/N.
The words, “Shanks is right,” played on a loop, until his mind was sick of everything but wine. 
“I don’t like the silent treatment.”
There wasn’t real danger, Mihawk’s body didn’t register it. Yet Crocodile fisted his hair, yanking his neck back to expose his throat until that sharp point kissed it, cold metal ready to spill red.
Mihawk had dropped the book onto his lap, though never dropped a glass of precious wine, especially over his clothes. His lips parted, forgetting everything in his mind for just a moment as that scarred face lowered over his.
“Are you gonna tell daddy what’s wrong, or do I need to tear it out of you?”
The swordsman’s body went loose, his eyes rolling back as Crocodile pressed their cheeks together, rubbing along his skin as he breathed in the scent of him. 
“Don’t make me ask again.”
Crocodile released him, brushing his thumb over those pretty lips while Mihawk caught his breath. The satisfaction that pulsed through Crocodile at the other man’s fluttering eyes was intense, piercing, and he had to hold himself still. 
Had to remind himself that he needed to know what the fuck was going on.
Mihawk hated how much he missed the touch of that hand when it was removed from his skin. Hated how needy, how fucking weak he was. Hated that no matter what he did, he would be betraying someone. Hated having to decide who it would be. 
Hated the sick wish that he could stop caring again, that he could treat everything as meaningless. 
That was how he ended up here in the first place. 
Finally, he took another large swig of wine, choosing to side with the friend that would never forgive him. Even though he might lose everything. 
“I have come to the unpleasant realization that I am a bad person,” Mihawk drawled, his voice almost perfect as he straightened up.
The deep, overwhelming laughter of the man beside him made him forget the world again, shock and annoyance pouring through him. 
“I didn’t realize my existential crisis would be so amusing to–”
“Where do you think you are,” Crocodile choked out, still laughing as he wiped a bit of moisture from his eyes. He gestured to the suite, to himself, shaking his head. “Did you forget what this fucking Guild is for? We are all very bad people.”
Mihawk’s mouth hung slack for a moment, until his head fell back. Laughter, thick as honey, filled the air between them, until his hand grazed the book in his lap, tracing over that colorful dragon. 
Crocodile couldn’t shake the feeling that the swordsman was holding things back. He wanted to pull until he got the whole truth, but there was something in Mihawk’s eyes that made him quiet, made him want to see the man with that wicked smile again first.
“Come on, little prince,” Crocodile soothed as he stood, holding out his hand. “Wanna show me what a bad person you are?”
A tiny version of that smile graced those lips, and Crocodile inhaled pride as he stared down at his little prince. 
His breath caught at the thought, at all these dangerous, stupid, distracting thoughts. 
“Thank you, daddy,” Mihawk purred, his voice breathy as he held himself under his mountain of guilt. “But I had hoped to rest and listen tonight, if that’s alright?”
Crocodile nodded, unease flooding his veins again. He tried to convince himself that it was nothing. 
“How are they doing in there,” he asked softly, wanting to shake the man, but not wanting to push their new arrangement too far. 
“Oh, they’re having a wonderful time,” Mihawk reported. The words that would have been tasty the night before were like ashes on his tongue, and he went to pour himself another glass so he could stomach listening. 
Mihawk just brought the bottle with him, drowning while he listened to Shanks steal away both of his shiny new toys.
Hoping that Crocodile wouldn’t hate him for letting it happen.
~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~
“Afterparty,” Buggy yelled, pressing that sexy music tone dial before floating you through the air. Giggling, you reached for him, pulling his hair loose to flow around you both. 
“You were amazing, Bugs,” you grinned, the tension of the hallway forgotten when he looked at you. 
“Of course I was,” he agreed, making you gasp when he connected with his lower body to press you onto the bed. His weight was such a perfect relief from every worried thought you wanted to burn. 
Shanks sat on the corner of the bed, but Buggy distracted you, kissing across your face, your chest, humming until you squirmed beneath him. He went still, his face hovering above yours with one of your favorite smiles. Soft and sweet, his crystal blue eyes dancing over your features as if needing to catch every slight movement, every piece of you. 
“Bug–”
“You’re my shining star, Y/N,” he confessed, a reverent tone in his voice that made you shake your head, twisting under him. 
“I thought you were the shining star,” you purred, struggling as he trapped your arms, holding your body down. “You’re the shining star of the show, and I’m the pretty star by your side, helping you shine.”
Buggy’s eyes looked down as he quirked his fading red lips, and your cheerful tease felt wrong. Anxiety started to fill you until he met your eyes again. He kissed you slowly, deep and thorough, savoring every bit of you until you whimpered, then you tasted his smile before he pulled back. 
“You’re my shining star, baby,” he whispered, squeezing your cheeks before kissing your puckered lips. “You’re my everything.”
Joy was everywhere as Buggy kissed your lips, then down your neck and shoulders, both of you laughing as you pulled him to you. 
You went cold when you remembered what the morning held, desperate to hang onto this feeling for as long as you could. Your head relaxed to the side as you tried to breathe out those thoughts, and you found Shanks observing you. You felt bare before him, like he could see through every uncomfortable feeling you tried to shove down. 
“She’s your star, huh, Buggy,” he purred, trailing his hand through Buggy’s hair until he stopped kissing your neck to look at the red haired man. 
“Of course she is,” Buggy bragged, tracing a gloved finger around your face. “Just look at her.”
His name left your lips in nothing more than a whimper, and you loved the way it made him straighten, his chin raising slightly as if your voice could lift him up. 
“I watched you feeding her fruit all day,” Shanks’ voice shifted, moving his hand down Buggy’s arm to his wrist before pulling those gloved fingers up to kiss his knuckles. “You were getting her ready for me, weren’t you? Want me to taste your shining star? Make her scream for you?”
Buggy lifted off of you, sitting back on his heels. His hungry eyes looked back and forth between you and his old friend, and you knew it was true. 
“Mm, I knew it,” Shanks rasped, now pulling your hand up for a kiss, staring heat into your skin. “Buggy wants me to taste you. Can I please taste you, little bunny?”
The weight of both of their stares tore you free from the world. You had to say yes. 
“Please.”
“Such a good girl,” Shanks praised, moving between your legs as Buggy helped you out of your dress, your bra, stopping there when Shanks reached out. “Hold on, friend. These are too pretty to get rid of so soon.”
He followed that order by pressing his hand down over the top of your thigh, and rubbing his thumb up and down over your lace covered clit. 
“Please,” you gasped, back arching when Buggy pinned your wrists. He sat behind your head, facing Shanks across your body, and you could see his breathing shift while he stared at the other man.
“Bunny’s being so polite,” Shanks taunted, his voice laced with danger that had your heart racing, “but if you don’t tell me what you’re begging for, I’ll just have to guess.”
He emphasized his threat by pressing his thumb into your desperate, clothed cunt, the lace panties straining under the pressure of his touch. 
“Please, taste me,” you choked out, catching Buggy’s face above you as he scraped his lip though his teeth. 
“My pleasure,” Shanks teased, tugging that fabric down your hips until Buggy’s hands floated down to help. “You know what she likes. Gonna teach me, Buggy?”
“Fuck,” Buggy breathed whiled he watched Shanks setting himself up between your legs. “Fuck yeah. Kiss her clit first, Shanks. Lick and suck her like candy.”
“Anything you say, Bugs,” Shanks agreed, pressing that charming mouth to your core, and your mind couldn’t decide which name to moan, mixing sounds together. “Gods, she’s so sweet for me, Buggy.”
“Quit talking, and make my girl come,” Buggy demanded, grinning at you when his words made you moan. He kept giving Shanks commands, until you were shaking, and those brown eyes stared up at you with so much focus, it made you dizzy before you screamed, coming all over that charming face. 
“Pretty bunny,” Shanks hummed as he moved up your body. He kissed the taste of you into your mouth before leaning toward Buggy. They kissed above you, the sight making your whine. 
“Looks like she needs some more attention," Shanks whispered at Buggy, until they both smirked down at you. “Wanna teach me how to finger your pretty girl now? I bet you know her pretty pussy so well, huh? Know just how to make her scream?”
“Buggy…”
“You hear that, star,” Buggy bragged, kissing along your ear. “I’m gonna do a magic trick. Make you come without even touching my pretty girl. You want that, baby?”
“Yes, ple–”
“Shove two fingers inside her right now,” he ordered, and you cried out when his words came true. “Spread her out. You feel that perfect cunt, Shanks?”
“Fuck, yes, Buggy,” Shanks rasped while he scissored those fingers inside you, spreading and feeling around, exploring. “She feels–”
“Wreck her. Make her scream,” Buggy growled. 
Buggy sent one hand to trap both of yours, and pressed the other down on your lower stomach. You glanced down just in time to see the spark in Shanks’ eyes when Buggy commanded him, and then his fingers were so fucking deep. 
“You heard him, bunny,” Shanks taunted, a wicked laugh as his strong fingers fucked you until you forgot your name. “You gonna scream for him now, or do I need to shove my whole fist into this sweet, little pussy?”
“Fuck,” you moaned, then screamed as his fingers curled inside you, his thumb attacking your clit. Buggy laughed before kissing you, inhaling your screams until you twitched all the way through that pleasure, twitched until it was too much. 
“Bugs, did we kill your star,” Shanks teased in mock horror, lifting and dropping your limp arm. 
“Nuh uh, my baby can go all night, huh,” Buggy praised, kissing your cheek while you tried, and failed to move. “She just needs a little break.”
“Breaks are nice,” the red haired pirate hummed. He laid next to you, trailing his hand along your body, and you sighed as Buggy laid on your other side. Their bodies, their voices, their heat, everything helped. Everything was good. 
“I know you like to watch,” Shanks rasped, speaking to Buggy before directing his voice, and his wicked gaze to you. “But how about you, Y/N? Do you like to watch your shining star?”
“I–”
“Yeah, she does,” Buggy bragged, interrupting you before kissing your cheek. “You got in soo much trouble. Remember, baby? You couldn’t take your eyes off of me and Mihawk.”
You almost missed it when your eyes fluttered at the memory, but Shanks’ jaw clenched at Buggy’s playful words, his fingers pressing into your skin for a moment. 
“Do you wanna watch us, bunny? Watch me make your shining star feel good?”
Shanks’ request sounded light, sounded like fun, but you felt it. You felt the pain in him, and you watched him blink and move his eyes around, trying to hide it. He failed, those brown eyes heavy on yours until you smiled. 
“I wanna watch.”
~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~
Y/N’s voice was so sweet, so sweet when she said those words. 
And now Shanks was crawling over him, and Buggy stopped thinking. 
This couldn’t be real.
Shanks stared down at his old friend, his old lover, wanting to kiss Y/N again for giving consent. For giving permission for this moment right now. 
“Can I make you scream now, Bugs,” Shanks asked, tracing his fingers around Buggy’s face, his jaw. 
“You can try,” Buggy taunted back, but his hands had already flown away to grab a towel and lube, dropping them in front of Shanks with a grin. 
“Come here,” the red head growled, lunging forward to grab that beautiful blue hair. Kissing Buggy almost hurt from how unreal it felt. Years and years poured into each other, and Shanks straddled his old friend, uselessly pinning one of his wrists above his head. 
Dizzy. 
So fucking dizzy. 
Buggy knew he hadn’t drank enough tonight to feel like this. His gloved hands were shaking as they ran over Shanks’ bare skin beneath his loose shirt, and he couldn’t think clearly. Every time he almost had a thought, a hungry noise from his old friend’s throat would make him frantic. 
“Can I help you out of these,” Shanks purred, his eyes sparkling with old laughter as he sat back to grab one of Buggy’s hands. 
Buggy’s eyes flicked to Y/N, and her gorgeous smile made everything alright. 
“Mhm,” Buggy nodded as he tugged one of his gloves off with his teeth. Shanks did the same with the other hand, biting down, and pulling at the fabric.
“There’s my Bugs,” he breathed, kissing those bare fingers. “You don’t need to hide from me.”
A hint of ice flashed across Buggy’s face, and though the clown caught and killed it, giving a smile to cover it up, Shanks felt that ice slide down into his gut. 
“I’m—“
“Don’t you have something you’re supposed to be doing right now, shithead,” Buggy stopped him with a laugh, tracing along his waistband. “Or are you here to break more promises?”
“Take your clothes off, clown,” Shanks ordered, heat and happiness in his voice. The two of them stood, almost stumbling off the bed with a laugh while their hands searched and freed each other's bodies. Buggy turned to do a silly strip tease for Y/N, earning another beautiful smile as she bit her lip. 
Buggy almost leapt for her, but strong fingers fisted into his hair again, pulling him into another chaotic kiss. 
“Lie on your back. I wanna see your face when you make all those pretty noises for me.”
Shanks’ whispered command burned along his skin, making Buggy’s knees weak. Shanks used that opening to shove him onto the bed, finding his way between those thighs. The red haired pirate sat back on his heels as he watched Buggy’s chest heaving, his body already writhing. Smeared red lips, and sparkling, hungry eyes made the breath catch in his throat. 
This moment was frozen, crystallized in Shanks’ mind. A moment of elation and gratitude, shot through with grief that it would be the last. He swallowed that fear, refusing to believe it. 
Refusing to lose him again. 
“Well,” Buggy prodded, breathless as he gave an impatient face.
“Lube,” Shanks smirked as he held out his hand. Buggy’s floating hands filled his palm, then dropped the bottle as Shanks grabbed Buggy’s swollen cock instead of his own. “Couldn’t resist. You’ve got the prettiest clown dick I’ve ever seen.”
“Fuck yo–” Buggy started, his words cut off by his own gasping moan when Shanks massaged a lubed finger around his asshole before pushing it inside him, slowly adding another. 
“Don’t worry, Bugs,” Shanks taunted as he watched Buggy’s face go desperate. “Help me get ready, I’ll give you what you need.”
The clown sent his hands to rub lube onto that veiny cock, just the touch of it making his eyes roll back. Thoughts kept trying to roll in now, to ruin this, but he shoved everything away. Right now their bodies were together, their bodies were taking pleasure, giving pleasure, and it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but those soft, and dangerous eyes. 
No more words. No more teasing. 
Buggy held his thighs aside easily, all that circus flexibility having so many benefits, and helped Shanks line himself up. The touch of him, barely any pressure yet, was too much, not enough.
Shanks caught Buggy’s eyes as he sank into him inch by inch. He didn’t have to say it. Buggy kept those eyes on his, and Shanks felt the pleasure of watching Buggy fight not to break eye contact. The look of frantic, painful need on his clown’s face felt even better than that perfect tight pressure around his cock.
“You feel so fucking good, Buggy,” Shanks praised, falling forward onto his hand so he could be closer while he started to move, to fuck, to make Buggy moan. He was thrusting harder, more desperate with every breath. “How’s that feel, baby? Needed my cock, didn’t you?”
“Fuck, ye– fuck, please.”
“Please,” Shanks purred, slowing to smile down, noticing the matching sheens of sweat on their skin. “I want you, Buggy. I want you inside me right–”
Buggy’s cock floated out from between their bodies, his hands going so fast as he lubed himself up, then shoved fingers into Shanks ass while he laughed and moaned, still fucking into him. 
“Oh gods, yes,” Shanks breathed, pausing his movements while Buggy started filling him, taking him, fucking him. Shanks' eyes rolled white, throwing his head back as he started his rhythm again. 
Nothing could compare to this.
Not when he looked down into those perfect eyes, tears forming at the corners while his moans got louder with every rough thrust. Not when he lost himself inside Buggy’s body, while Buggy took and gave it all to him too. 
“Come inside me, Buggy, I need to feel you,” Shanks begged as his body fell apart, almost there, but not wanting it to end. “Gods, I missed you so fucking much, baby.”
“Shanks…” Buggy whined, feeling the insane moment of pleasure when they came inside each other, the heat and force of their come bringing wild, needy moans from their throats. 
Dripping with sweat now, they relearned how to breathe, still twitching inside each other. Buggy started to move, but Shanks dropped from his hand to his elbow beside Buggy’s head, pausing to look at him before he lowered his sweaty face down, kissing those faded red lips. 
Neither had any thoughts in that moment. They finally won that battle in their minds, that battle to enjoy this moment for what it was. Whatever it was. 
That kiss was the only thing in the world. 
~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~
You weren’t breathing. You had no idea when you’d stopped, or if you’d ever start again. You might die on the edge of that bed, suffocating without ever making a sound. 
They wouldn’t even notice I died.
Bile rose up your throat at that hateful thought. 
It didn’t make sense. You felt so fucking selfish, so disgusting. What gave you the right to feel jealous? After everything Buggy went through, everything you put him through… 
They still haven’t noticed me. 
Entitled. Stupid. Ungrateful bitch. 
So many words and emotions flew through your mind, the speed and chaos of them only making your nausea worse. Anger, jealousy, self pity. 
You fought to keep your face neutral in case they remembered you were there, but your lip quivered, replaying every beautiful fucking moment. 
They love each other so much. 
Swallowing a sob, you dug your nails into your palms. 
I can’t have love. I can never have love.
All you wanted to do was disappear. 
“How’s my star,” Buggy asked, his voice shaky as he pulled away from his lover. 
“Beautiful, that’s how,” Shanks praised, mirroring Buggy as they moved in to kiss your cheeks. 
Liar. I’m a liar. 
Your practiced smile, your fake happiness that was trained into you since childhood lifted your lips, and you filled your eyes with as much of the truth as you could. You were happy for them. 
Part of you was, at least. 
Yawning instead of speaking, you let Buggy kiss you, giggling as he carried you to the shower. You felt lost, empty, trapped in an echoey room, only vaguely aware of the world outside. 
Buggy laid you on the soft carpet while they struggled to change the sheets, laughter, and insults, and deep, heated kisses kept interrupting their task until you wanted to scream. 
I just want to disappear. 
“Mihawk,” you breathed, hoping he could hear you over their laughter and moans as Shanks kissed along Buggy’s neck. 
“May I come in?”
The room froze at the knock, and the cold voice on the other side of the door. The lovers stepped away from each other before Buggy sent his hand to the doorknob. 
“What is it,” Shanks asked, his own voice drained of all the mirth it had held tonight. 
“Sir Crocodile,” Mihawk cleared his throat before his eyes found yours. “He’s tired of sleeping without his sweet girl. Would you mind, darling? You know how cranky he gets.”
“O-okay…”
Buggy came to your side, helping you up since your wobbly limbs didn’t seem to work anymore. 
“Thank you,” Shanks breathed into your ear before Buggy carried you to your golden eyed lover. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”
His sweet words brought back the bile in your throat, and you thought you might explode if you had to hold up that performative happiness any longer. 
Get me out of here.
“Goodnight, my shining star,” Buggy hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple before placing you in Mihawk’s arms. He smiled at you, but didn’t wait for you to say anything in return before closing the door. 
“Shh,” Mihawk soothed, almost silent while you started to shake in his arms. 
It was just a few steps to the other door, which flew open as Crocodile stood waiting, anger radiating off of him. 
“What the fuck happened? Get out of my–”
“They didn’t hurt her, Crocodile,” Mihawk sighed, walking into the room, and softly kicking the door shut behind him. “At least not on purpose. You’re okay, right, love?”
You were gone now, everything was foggy, and nothing mattered. It was nice.
“Why do you smell like four different wines?”
Both of them paused before Crocodile sat on the edge of the bed, deep, belly laughs filling the air. Mihawk looked half annoyed, and half pleased, eyes dancing over your face. 
“Five actually, but I’m impressed. My lovely, little bloodhound,” he purred as he laid you in the center of that giant bed. Stroking your hair, he whispered the words that finally broke you. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
It was a silent, choked nothing at first, your body almost heaving as it tried to fight. Heat built and rolled through your throat until burning tears finally fell, and it felt like the bile would soon follow.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Crocodile calmed, sliding in beside you until they both touched your skin, both watched you struggle to breath around tears that made you sick. “Tell me what you need, Y/N. Anything for my sweet girl.”
You almost begged for them to make the night end, but knew the morning would bring fresh, new pain. Your last night before it was over, and you spent it twitching with pathetic, quiet sobs, unable to ask these men for help. Their comfort only made it worse, and after tomorrow, they would never look at you this way again. 
Would they still care if you cried? Would they use you just like everyone else?
Would they send you back?
They held you now as you lived in this torture of a night you needed to end, and a morning you needed to never begin. 
Somehow sleep ripped you from the world, shoving you back onto stormy seas. You hung on for dear life, waiting for that voice to call your name. 
That voice didn’t call tonight. 
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Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!
a/n: Writing this chapter was such a blast! Helped me through a tough week, and pushed me to write outside of my comfort zone. I would be eternally grateful if you tell me how you felt about the drama! I've been going nuts holding all this in 😅 Also, sorry about the big pile of emotions!! 😭
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Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki
Part 19
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Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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honeygrahambitch · 2 months
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"Will. I hope my timing is not too inconvenient. Do you happen to be in Baltimore?"
"Yes, what happened?" Will said as he picked up his phone.
"My Bentley was towed. Do you think you could pick me up so I can retrieve it?"
"Send me the address and I will be there in a moment."
***
"See what I believed?" Hannibal said as he showed Will the parking lot.
"And you were absolutely right. I always park here. There are always cars here. Look at that one parking right now. Since when are they towing them?"
"Could be a new rule."
"How much did you have to pay?"
"More than I would have liked."
"Let's go, get into my car. I am having a word with them." Hannibal didn't comment. The individuals who picked up his car were anyway destined to end up in his plate sooner or later.
No one touches his Bentley.
***
"Go there right now. Have a look. And tell all those cars the same thing."
"Sir, it's the law."
"The law my ass."
Hannibal lifted his eyes from the paperwork he was filling. He had to bite his tongue in order to stop himself from smiling.
"Excuse me but who are you? Since you are not the owner of the car?"
"You are damn right. That's my husband's car that you towed. And I am not leaving this place until you admit that it was a mistake on your behalf."
Hannibal dropped the pen on the floor and didn't even bother to pick it up. He almost dropped the papers as well.
"Sir, I would like to ask you to leave the room...your behavior is not very respectful."
"Did I hurt your feelings-" Will stopped to have a look at the name tag "Jeremy? I found your behavior to be more than unacceptable yet here we are. And listen, my husband might be very gracious with matters like this, but trust me, I am not."
"I am calling the police."
"Yeah?" Will said and pulled out his credentials. "Tell me again about the law."
Jeremy gulped and put his phone down. At this point Hannibal had to take off his coat. The temperature in the room was very high, of course.
"I know the law, and I am very much aware of the fact that you are towing only the expensive cars. It's been a matter the FBI has had its eyes on for weeks. So now, before my team arrives, you owe my husband some money. And an apology."
"Sir...our wages are low...please don't get us into more trouble. If our boss finds out..."
"I don't like repeating myself."
Jeremy was shaking but he rushed to took some money from a drawer. His trembling hands made counting them a lot more difficult.
Will turned to Hannibal who showed the same expression he would show in a museum. Fascination. Admiration. And something else.
The man gave Hannibal his money back and apologized multiple times.
"That was impressive, Will." Hannibal said as they left the building.
"I can't tolerate this type of things. Especially when it's you."
"Tell me, how much of it was real?"
"It was mostly bluffing. The FBI is not coming. But I had a feeling my assumption related to what they're doing is true." Will explained. "They never tried to pick up my volvo."
"We really need to get you a better car." Hannibal said, impressed by Will's mind even after all that time.
"Snob."
"I liked seeing you like that."
"Oh, I know. I put on a show mostly for your own entertainment."
Will's hand found his.
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demonvibez · 2 months
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Clueless
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A/N: These requests were just too good, and I had quite a bit of fun with it. Karen Smith is such an icon, I had to take this idea and run with it, lol. Mostly fun, a few serious parts. Hope you guys like it - may expand on this later (perhaps with an nsfw version). Anyways, enjoy! ♡ Characters: Demon Brothers x GN Reader Word Count: 3.7k+ Rating: Teen [Suggestive Themes] Tags: gn reader, dumb reader, implied violence, suggestive themes/implied sex
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☆ LUCIFER:
-> He believed it all to be an act at first - surely he and Lord Diavolo had the sense to acquire a human for the exchange program that would actually be up to the task to complete it. Surely you were just pulling a prank on him, much like his younger brothers would. You aren't actually this dense...right? 
-> Feels even more responsible for you than normal, so he feels the need to keep a tight leash on you. You bring a lot of chaos to the Devildom, and he can't have you ruining any reputations (yours, his or Lord Diavolo's), so he practically becomes your shadow in order to minimize any mayhem you may cause - especially since you're so prone to injury.
-> Has a hard time punishing you - your obliviousness causes you to have a hard time taking any of it seriously. He'll never forget the first time you started giggling during one of his lectures, after he caught you and two of his brothers destroying the kitchen. After many headaches, he's had to come up with whole new ways to deal with you - most of which are torture via boredom.
♡ He's not sure when, but somehow, he began to find you rather endearing - and next thing he knew, he had actually fallen for you. No one is more shocked than he is - maybe it's the innocence in your eyes when you look up at him, or the way your smile brings a blush to his cheeks. But now he can't help but to feel affection for all of those dumb little things you do. You have turned the Lucifer Morningstar into a full-blown morosexual for you, and there's no turning back for him now - he is beyond smitten with you, although he does often question himself. "How can a human such as you stir such emotions within me?" So innocent, so earnest, so loyal. Many aspects of Lucifer's life is difficult, but loving you is so easy.
♡ As the Avatar of Pride, he has no issues being very blunt with his feelings for you. The night before, he stays up late in his study, writing several drafts of the confession he plans to recite to you over dinner at Ristorante Six. He knows you, after all, and wants to make himself very clear.
♡ He loves that you depend on him, he practically lives for it. You constantly need his help and protection, and his already ineffable Pride gets inflated every time you turn to him with those innocent eyes and pouty face of yours. It gets to a point where he is used to always being with you - you fall into a synchronicity, a routine. It gets to the point where Lucifer even asks you to move into his room; he would love to share the space with you, and it would just be much simpler for you both - he knows what's best for you, after all.
-> If anyone ever questions his relationship with you, he shuts it down instantly with a singular murderous glare. Pride is unshakable, but Lucifer is still prone to annoyance. He'll string them up in the middle of the RAD courtyard without even breaking a sweat. Nothing like a little public shaming to show the naysayers who the true imbeciles are.
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☆ MAMMON:
-> Idiocy loves company, and he's beyond glad to have you in his company! Two peas in a pod, no wonder Lucifer stuck the two of you together!
-> He loves how easy it is to rope you along into pulling schemes with him - he's never had a better partner in crime! And when the two of you inevitably get caught by Lucifer, your cluelessness tends to come in handy.
-> He also loves how your grades are equally bad! It means he won't have to suffer the wrath of Satan's study sessions alone anymore.
-> Pretty much becomes your shadow when he notices how clumsy you are - any human would be in danger in the Devildom, but your stupidity leads you into more peril than normal. After a couple of minor injuries (and a scrape with a lower demon), Mammon decides it's best if he doesn't let you out of his sight. Lucifer put him in charge of you after all, he's just doin' what he's told!
♡ But in all honesty, it's another way you two connect. He loves all the crazy times you two have together, the impulsive adventures you get yourselves into. He feels like you both understand each other better than anyone! The only problem is, between his tsundere act and your extreme obliviousness, your relationship is stuck in limbo. All of his brothers' teasing goes right over your head, and a flustered Mammon usually denies it while trying to hide what a blushing mess he really is. Until, one day, he can't take it anymore - "I'm in love with ya, ya big dummy," he blurts out as the two of you ride in his Demonio 666. 
♡ And ever since that random Tuesday afternoon, you and Mammon have been inseparable. You two are truly like twin flames - consequences don't even matter as long as you're by his side. He'd take a million lectures, be strung up a million times, hell he'd even cut up his credit cards into a million pieces if it means he gets to keep you forever. That dumb smile of yours is worth more than all the Grimm in the Devildom, and he'd do anything for you to flash it at him, even if just for a moment. He wasn't sure he believed in soul mates before, but now that he has you, he's damn sure you're his.
-> No one really gives Mammon grief about his relationship with you, seeing as you're a perfect match made in Hell (affectionate). But you can imagine if they did, they'd suddenly find themselves in more debt than the Avatar himself. And if that doesn't work, he'll fight for ya! Mammon is no stranger to winning a scrap ;)
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☆ LEVIATHAN:
-> He makes a lot of assumptions about you at first - you're just another basic normie, aren't you?!
-> Sometimes believes you are mocking him with your questions - especially when it comes to his special interests. How can you possibly be so clueless?! He's explained this game to you literally ten times?!?! You must be inting or something!! You have to be doing this on purpose!!!
-> Also believes your forgetfulness is on purpose, thinking you secretly hate him - or at the very least, don't really care for him. He figures when you agree to hang out with him that you're either just being nice, or are too dumb to figure out how to get out of it, so you must just go along with it. So when you forget him, he thinks you're purposely ghosting him for someone better.
-> He eventually confronts you about all of this, only for him to be met with a confused look on your face. The two of you awkwardly chat it out, and afterward he starts to think that he may be the bigger idiot for making so many assumptions.
-> But once he understands you, you start to grow on him - you remind him of that one MC from 'Oops! That Normie Who Dropped in from Another Realm is Now My Bestie and I May Be Developing a Crush!' and how they may say and do stupid things, but it's actually kind of endearingly cute! And they're so soo loyal! Wait, you actually kinda look like them, too. Prepare yourself - new cosplay incoming, courtesy of Leviathan. He does second guess himself over it a bit - Is it weird if he makes the matching cosplay to go along with yours? It's totally weird, isn't it?! No it isn't, because you're too dumb to think too deeply into it! But he will overthink it all the same.
♡ Not the best at openly talking about his emotions, and he doesn't want to ruin your current relationship with him, so it may be more difficult for him to get across his feelings to you. He keeps dropping subtle little hints in the hopes that you'll eventually pick up on it. And if you never do, one day he just blurts it out (after numerous pep talks from his brothers). He tries writing a confession in the notes app of his DDD to read off for you, but he gets so nervous he drops his phone and ends up just shouting, "I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!!!" - after which is followed with a flurry of apologies from the otaku demon. 
♡ And after that, you find yourself practically living in his room - and he finds himself purposely losing at games so that you can get a few wins, all to see that excited look on your face that he adores so much. He truly has found his player two! ^.^
-> It would be unusual to find the hikikomori demon in a social situation where someone is questioning your relationship to his face - he does spend a lot of time defending you online, however, and has been successful in getting a few of your haters' accounts nuked. RIP.
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☆ SATAN:
-> Honestly annoyed by you at first. You just ask so damn many questions, and it seems like you don't even retain the answers. 
-> Then one day he overhears Lucifer lecturing you about your failing grades - Challenge accepted. You are now his new project. How hard could it possibly be? It would be quite the accomplishment for him, and he's sure it will annoy Lucifer in the mean time! Seeing him put so much effort into the stupid human is sure to throw Lucifer off of his game! The Old Man will think he is plotting something nefarious, but-
-> Ahem. Anyways, expect your bookshelves to rapidly fill up with gifts from him - with everything from textbooks, to picture books, to entire series of epic novels. Expect him to be over after dinner every night, to sit with you an indulge in one of these books. He'll let you pick something most of the time, but he occasionally becomes insistent of one of his own picks - the erotica he reads to you tends to go over your head, anyways.
-> Quickly finds he has to adjust his teaching style, having to go over rudimentary concepts with you multiple times. He's much more patient with you than he is with Mammon his brothers, his temper non-existent as he slowly repeats the lesson to you again. He knows you are trying your best, and is willing to put in the same effort you put forth. Occasionally you do aggravate him in this regard - he usually just takes it out on the first one of his brothers he sees, instead of you. Thankfully.
-> He's unsure what it is about you, but something about you really calms the wrath raging within him. Maybe it's your carefree, peaceful nature that soothes the storm within him. Maybe it's that adorable smile that can light up the darkest of Devildom nights. Maybe it's the way you never fail to make him laugh when you make Lucifer lose his temper. Either way he hasn't failed to notice that his days are better with you in them.
-> Sometimes his patience for you does wear thin though - especially when your stupidity gets you hurt! 'You're not going to survive in this realm if you keep acting so thoughtlessly,' he says through gritted teeth, as he patches up the lacerations on your arm - caused by you touching a killer plant adorned with a very large warning sign. He does his best to keep his anger within, but he's yelled at you a few times, almost desperate to finally get his point across to you.
♡ It is quite obvious to him why he has fallen for you, so he wastes no time in planning his confession. He knows his romantic gesture will have to be overt, the goal being that you truly comprehend understand his feelings for you. A thoughtful gift along with a handwritten letter, simply stating how he is deeply in love with you - and if any confusion remains, he'd be happy to explain. 
♡ And after that, he spends each day with you in bliss. As the moonlight illuminates the pages of his book, he softly reads the words to you; and as you fall asleep in his arms, he knows that this is what true happiness is. He may never be allowed in the Celestial Realm, but being with you makes him feel like he's already there.
-> If people question his relationship with you, they only do so in hushed tones - no one wants to be on the receiving end of his Wrath, especially after that one demon went missing after gawking at the two of you on a date.
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☆ ASMODEUS:
-> Excited to adopt you into his inner circle - he knows someone like you would be the perfect little doll for him! He already thinks you're just oh so adorable, and it will be incredibly easy for him to turn you into his little Mini Asmo.
-> New style, new hair, new everything! Be prepared to truly become his twin, for he wants you to become his shadow. Doesn't even take him much effort to convince you to change your schedule to match his! 
-> Asmo is definitely the Queen Bee of RAD, but you're basically the Queen's Hand - he regards your thoughts and opinions highly, as if they are the royal decree. He may also lightly tease you at times, wanting nothing more than to see the many cute faces you make, but he would never stab you in the back. HBIC's have to look out for each other, after all! 
-> Your grades actually go up, shockingly enough, thanks to Asmo having his fan club do all of your schoolwork. You don't have time for that nonsense! 'Pamper and Pre-Game' with Asmo is way more important than writing some silly Devildom Law essay - you don't wanna be late to the Fall, after all!
-> The two of you pretty much run the school, constantly making waves and setting trends. You get your own fan club, but you also have a fair amount of haters! Either way, all eyes are on you, and every dumb little thing you do ends up going viral online. Some days you're being praised for your fashion, others you're being meme'd for your clumsiness. And of course, Asmo always helps you take advantage of these moments, good or bad. Never a dull day on the Devilnet!
-> He especially loves that your air-headedness leaves a lot of room for you to be open minded to experimentation (or maybe you're just easy to convince, hehe). It's lead to a lot of wild nights in his bedroom, with the two of you experiencing unfathomable euphoria - those nights will forever live rent free in his mind. Perhaps he can convince you to let Sol join the two of you next time...
-> On the other hand, he notices he has to keep an extra sharp eye on you when the two of you are out partying together - your obliviousness has almost led you to a few dangerous situations, one that ended up leaving Asmo's strawberry-blonde hair stained crimson. He is now hyper-vigilant over you, always guarding your drinks and cutting in on the dancefloor.
♡ How could the Avatar of Lust not fall you for? His best friend, his partner in crime, his darling human~♡! He comes to the realization that he loves you even more than himself, and that he must start making a plan! The date of all dates to sweep you off of your feet and right into his arms~♡ He knows he'll have to be clear and concise when he makes his confession - not only are you a bit dense, but his usual Avatar of Lust brand of affection may make it... confusing for you, to figure out that he truly loves you romantically. Whatever, who cares! He'll tell you a million times over if you need him to ♡!
♡ After that, not too much will change, for you were already inseparable before his confession! He may become a bit more possessive, but that comes with the territory of being Lust's Chosen One. The two of you are RAD's Power Couple, and he will make damn sure the entire Devildom knows it!
-> When it comes to your relationship, Asmodeus is ride or die. If anyone ever questions it, he brushes it off with his signature smile and a cold remark - at first. Like a scorpion, he strikes from the shadows. Pink may be his color, but he is also well aware how amazing he looks in red~♡ ;)
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☆ BEELZEBUB:
-> Doesn't think too much about it at first - you're just that nice human with the pretty smile and the fun stash of human world snacks. 
-> The least judgmental of his brothers, while also being the first to get to know you deeply. He feels like you're really easy to understand, and he finds that it's really easy to open up to you. He becomes a lot more talkative when you're around, and soon the two of you have you own dumb little inside jokes that his brothers are jealous they aren't in on. You don't even get each other's jokes half the time (which is mostly your fault, no offense) but laughter truly is contagious, and you have so much fun in each other's company.
-> Once he really gets to know you, he worries about you endlessly! He feels the need to become even more protective over you than he already is. Not only does your clumsiness worry him, but your forgetfulness too. He knows for a fact that humans need to eat to survive! What do you mean you forgot to eat lunch?! How can you forget something like that...and before you know it, he's adding some of his Acidic Hell Fries to your plate.
-> So he starts inviting you to eat with him every single day, and he loves how easily you say yes! No matter the menu, no matter the restaurant, you're always down to go out with him and share a bite to eat - you don't even ask questions! And he really admires how adventurous you are - always ordering new dishes, never turning down a bite of some strange food when he offers it, the smile on your face when you actually do enjoy it. Sharing a simple meal with you quickly becomes the part of his day he looks forward to the most.
-> The two of you do get into your own share of trouble every now and then though. While Beel has been banned from the Devildom's various eating contests, you haven't been - and you never seem to learn how sick these contests make you, no matter how badly you wanna give the prize to Beel. And let's not forget all the times you've had to wash dishes at Hell's Kitchen because you both ran outta the House without making sure you had a single Grimm on you. Either way, the two of you have so much fun together, that you never regret it - or learn from it.
♡ He wears his heart on his sleeve, and while Beelzebub isn't dumb like you are, he does have a certain innocent honesty about him - so he has no problem telling you his true feelings about you. He may get the slightest bit frustrated after having to explain it so many times, but hand him a snack and he'll have all the patience in the world to sit with you and help you understand how much he truly loves you.
♡ And after that, you continue to spend your days with your sweet cinnamon roll of a boyfriend. Whether you're hanging with him at the gym or sneaking out for a late night snack, being with you always makes his heart feel so full - a feeling he would never trade, even for a thousand Shadow Goose Burgers. 
-> Doesn't even remotely pay attention to what others are saying about his relationship with you - why even bother worrying about that? Although there was that one time some random demon at RAD did question him about it, but Beel couldn't hear them over the rumble of his own stomach - which they hilariously mistook as a threat, causing them to run off in terror. 
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☆ BELPHEGOR:
-> Your stupidity made his scheme in the attic all too easy! Truly like the wolf leading the lamb. He could have never dreamed that such a perfect target would just fall right into his lap, would stumble into the attic and right into his trap - it was almost comical. He could have also never dreamed that, once the veil of hate was lifted from his eyes, the amount of overwhelming guilt he would feel. Naïve, innocent little lamb. He'd do anything to make up for it - he's failed to protect you twice already, and he won't be making that mistake again.
-> Suddenly overprotective, as well as a bit possessive. He knows how easily you can be fooled into mortal danger, so you can expect him to lurk in the shadows. The circle of people he trusts (his brothers) is small, and he even occasionally has doubts about a few of them. 
-> Other than that, he is beyond amused by you, and he knows he's going to have a lot of mischievous fun with you by his side! The House of Lamentation was already chaotic with just the seven of them, but your arrival truly added a wild card to the mix. Your absentminded hijinks are usually funny enough for him to warrant losing a bit of sleep.
-> He pretty much makes you the mascot for the Anti-Lucifer League - any schemes he and the Fourth Born can think up, they rope you into. Typically used as bait, watching Lucifer freak out as you stand there looking clueless truly never gets old. No matter how many times they explain the pranks to you, you never really understand what's going on - which makes for a great defense when all three of you inevitably get lectured by the Eldest afterwards.
-> Loves how easy it is to convince you to skip class and nap with him - you're the only one he's shown all of his favorite hiding spots to. Partially because he knows you'll never remember where they are without his help, but also because he loves cuddling up with you. 
♡ He's actually tried several times to convey his feelings to you, with everything from romantic dreams to starlit dates. He's even kissed you, how much more obvious can he get?! If it were anyone but you, he probably would have given up and gone back to sleep. But you're you and you're worth it, so he stays up late conjuring up exactly what to say to you, hoping this time his bluntness makes it clear.
♡ And after that, the two of you spend the majority of your free time cuddled up in each other's loving embrace. It's nothing but sweet dreams and starry skies, so long as you have Belphie by your side.
-> Questioning his relationship with you (or badmouthing you in general) is probably one of the most egregious mistakes one could make. If the endless night terrors aren't enough to evoke instant regret, the Avatar of Sloth doesn't mind resorting to violence for you.
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· demonvibez ♡ 2024 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·
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bellaxgiornata · 1 month
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Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-four: "The Offer"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: Karen, Marci, and you go shopping for the upcoming gala.
Or
Karen presents you with an interesting offer.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.] [FFTD Series Masterlist]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence
a/n: So I split this part off of the gala smut installment that will be coming up next because I didn't want the smut to overshadow everything else. But hey, that means more installments! Also, tumblr is messing with my tag lists again so I apologize if they aren't working properly. Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @babygirlmurdock @theoraekenslover @wanda-maxamommy @justanerd1
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Picking up a fairly simple shoe from the display shelf that had caught your eye, you warily examined the three inch heel on the back of it. You didn't want to get anything that looked too dangerous for you to walk in at the gala this weekend, afraid you'd only end up embarrassing Matt and yourself if you did. Walking in heels certainly wasn’t your strong suit and you weren’t about to pretend that it was just to look a certain way in order to fit in at the event. But while you stood there studying the shoe in your hands, turning it from side to side inspecting it, a bright gold heel appeared in your line of sight. Your eyes immediately widened at the stiletto heel next to the slightly more sensible shoe in your hand. 
“I hope you're showing me that as an option for yourself, Marc,” you said, glancing up at her beside you. “Because I would absolutely break my neck wearing those.”
Marci scoffed, rolling her eyes at you. “Oh please,” she replied. “You wouldn't break your neck in these.”
You shot her a pointed look, a brow arching up onto your forehead. Slowly you watched as her expression shifted to one of doubt and uncertainty, her eyes dropping back down to the heel in her hand. Eventually she let out a defeated sigh, the heel lowering back to her side.
“Okay, it's likely you might sprain your ankle in them,” she conceded. “But then Matt could just carry you around all night, right? Do you really mean to tell me you wouldn't want that?”
“I'd rather him carry me around under different, less embarrassing circumstances,” you told her. “Not because I bought six inch heels that are the width of a toothpick under the assumption that I could spend an evening walking in them. Because we all know I can’t.”
“Fine,” Marci relented.
She turned, walking away to put the shoe back on the display shelf from where she’d found it. Your attention returned to the black heel in your hands as you once more contemplated your ability to survive in them for an entire evening. They didn’t look too intimidating–especially after the heel Marci had just suggested. 
“What about these?” Karen asked.
Glancing over your shoulder at the sound of her voice, you focused on the deep red heels she was holding up in her hand. They were stunning, you had to admit it. The color wasn't anything too crazy bright so it wouldn't stand out horribly against the black dress you'd already bought earlier today. Plus, they were almost the exact same shade of red as Matt’s Daredevil suit, a detail you figured he'd probably enjoy even if he couldn't see them himself. 
“You don't have to get black shoes just because the dress you bought is black,” Karen pointed out. “And the heels on these don't look too scary do they?”
“No,” you answered slowly, setting down the shoe in your hand and turning towards her. “They don't.”
You stepped over to where she’d been standing, reaching a hand out and accepting the heel from her outstretched one before examining it closer. She was right, they truthfully didn't look all that intimidating in comparison to most of the other heels in this high end store. Certainly more manageable than the gold heel Marci had just suggested. 
“Ohh, I like those,” Marci said, appearing over your shoulder and eyeing the shoe. “Definitely not too plain. I prefer these over those black ones you were just looking at. Nothing wrong with adding a little bit of color.”
“Okay, then. You’ve both convinced me,” you told them. “I’ll see if they have a pair in my size.”
With the shoe in hand, you made your way over towards a rather bored looking sales associate and asked for your size. Briefly they disappeared into a back room, eventually returning a minute later with the nicest shoe box you'd ever seen in your life. Which probably meant the price on them was something absolutely absurd, but so was the budget Matt had more than graciously given you for your day of shopping today. Something you were still confused about him doing since his sole reasoning was just that he wanted you to enjoy your evening with him at the gala.
Thanking the store associate politely, you took the shoe box and headed back over to the row of chairs near where Karen and Marci were still shopping. But as you neared the pair of them you overheard the loud, almost dramatic sigh that Marci had released. Slowly lowering yourself down into one of the chairs, you raised a brow at her curiously.
“What was that about?” you asked her.
“I have been dying for someone to just bring it up all day–just to touch the topic even once –but no one has. So I guess I’m just going to do it myself,” she answered you. “Are we ever going to address the fact that you’re dating Frank?” 
Her eyes pointedly focused on Karen when she’d asked the question. Karen, who had been eyeing a pair of dark green heels, slowly began to set them back down as Marci’s perfect brows shot up onto her forehead questioningly. Without further pause Marci continued on, clearly determined to cover the topic of Karen’s new boyfriend. 
“Because I've been waiting all day for the opportunity to talk about it, especially with hearing Foggy tell me all week about the office arguments your love life has been causing,” Marci explained. “I figured when I took the day off of work and joined you both for this girl's shopping trip that we would be all over this topic today but no one has brought it up. Not even once. But I mean, you're dating that Frank. You don’t think we want the details? Like… why are you dating him?”
Your eyes flew over to Karen, watching as her shoulders dropped as if she'd been expecting this subject to be brought up at some point today. Truthfully you were a bit surprised no one had mentioned anything until now as well, but you figured Karen just didn't want to risk being lectured once again. You could only imagine how much she’d had to deal with that from Matt all week already. 
Silently you watched as Karen blew out a breath, turning on her heel and making her way over to take a seat in one of the cushioned armchairs beside you, her arms crossed over her chest as she moved. Marci hurried over after her and settled down into the chair on the other side of Karen. With rapt attention she rested her elbows on the armrest and leaned in towards her, clearly waiting for the details.
“Alright, we might as well get this over with,” Karen said flatly. “Yes, I am dating that Frank. No, he's not insane. He's actually incredibly sweet, protective, and has a big heart. And I didn't rush into things with him either, despite what Matt might try to tell you,” she continued, looking back at you and rolling her eyes a little. “There's been something there between us for years but Frank never wanted to explore anything more because he thought me being with him would put me in danger. But he also wasn't entirely at a point where he was ready to open up to someone else in that sort of way after…well…everything that had happened with his family.”
“So does he still…do that?” Marci asked carefully. “You know the uh…activities he’s been known for?”
Karen’s gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, her blonde hair curtaining her face a little. “Yeah, but not to that extent. Matt won't exactly let him–which is for the best, don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly. “But he's an ex-marine who'd been taught how to do exactly that from his time when he was in the military. I can’t exactly blame him for defaulting to what the government trained him to do, especially considering that the people who were on the receiving end honestly kind of deserved it for what they did to his family.”
Marci shifted in her seat, peering around Karen and focusing on you. One of her blonde brows arched up onto her forehead again. “And what're your thoughts on this?” she asked.
You shrugged lightly, both women now focused on you. The heels you'd been about to try on were currently forgotten on the floor by your feet with the conversation that had arisen. 
“I mean, we all know how Matt spends some of his evenings,” you answered her. “It’s not like he hasn't done his fair share of similar things to criminals in the name of keeping the city safe. In some ways it would be hypocritical of me to view Frank differently–even if he has, you know, crossed a line that Matt very much refuses to cross.”
“So you just…are indifferent about this?” Marci asked curiously.
“Not exactly, but I don’t really know the guy,” you replied. “I trust Karen’s judgment though. I’d like to think she wouldn’t date someone who truly wasn’t a good person at heart, even if it's difficult for the rest of us to understand. And if this is something that’s been developing slowly over the years, I have no idea what’s happened between the two of them. Plus, I doubt any of us saying anything based on what we know from the media about Frank would actually change her view, because I know that alone wouldn’t make me suddenly walk away from Matt.”
“Exactly,” Karen stated, shooting you a smile. “He’s not the man the media painted him to be. There’s vastly more depth and heart to him. And he’s saved my life multiple times now– and Matt’s recently.”
A bout of nerves unexpectedly broke free in your stomach, a cold fear steadily unfurling in your gut at her words. You knew Matt put himself in danger going out as Daredevil the nights he did, that was nothing new, but hearing that Frank had saved his life recently certainly had an effect on you. Were those two getting involved in something dangerous in the evenings now? Involved in something you knew nothing about? Because you hadn’t heard Matt mention anything specific to you before, though you’d noticed he’d been a little more on edge some nights when he returned home.
“Well,” Marci said, sitting back in her chair, “I guess I’m just glad Fog doesn’t put on some funny little suit and run around at night like your men do. I don’t think I’d be as calm about it if he did.” Her head turned towards Karen as she focused on her again, her eyes narrowing curiously. “Is Frank coming to the gala, by the way? As your date?”
Karen laughed loudly, shaking her head. “No, absolutely not. He wanted nothing to do with it to begin with, and I’m pretty sure Matt would have an aneurysm if he did show his face. He says it’s because of the firm’s image, but I know there’s more to it than that.”
“Guess I’ll have to meet him another time, then,” Marci said in defeat. She looked past Karen, gesturing a hand at the shoebox by your feet. “Are you going to try those on then?”
Remembering the box on the floor, you glanced back down at it, though your mind was truthfully still on the comment Karen had made about Frank having recently saved Matt’s life. That growing fear of yours about Matt finding himself in danger and you being absolutely useless to do anything to help him suddenly hit you hard. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you felt your mood sour as you bent over and removed the lid from off the shoebox. The satin sheen of the dark red heels glistened in the overhead light, but all you could see was Matt in his suit, his body lying motionless somewhere in an alley surrounded by a pool of blood. Your stomach lurched and you bit the inside of your cheek even harder.
Karen leaned over in her chair, gently placing a hand on your forearm. “Hey, are you alright?” she asked softly.
Shifting your attention towards her, you caught the look of concern etched across her features. Behind her, you’d noticed that Marci had already risen to her feet and returned to browsing the selection of heels. 
“Yeah,” you answered, your eyes returning to Karen. “It’s just…you mentioned Frank saving Matt’s life recently and it had me thinking about something again.”
Karen’s blue eyes narrowed back at you. “About what?” she asked curiously.
You sighed, once more ignoring the shoes in front of you before sitting back in the chair and focusing on her. “Do you ever feel like maybe you’re…helpless?” you began carefully. “I mean now that you’re dating Frank? Even though I know things are still new between you both.” Shaking your head, you quickly added, “I mean, I know he doesn’t have the same urge to run around like some sort of superhero that Matt often has, but I can’t help but worry that if he ever actually needed help–or was in trouble or something–that I couldn't do anything. I haven’t been able to shake this fear that I just…wouldn’t be able to help him, you know? Because I'm not like him. I can't do what he does. I can’t really do anything.”
Karen’s head tilted a little to the side, something contemplative reflecting in her eyes as she studied you in silence for a moment. You wondered if she was going to tell you that you were being ridiculous until she finally spoke.
“No, I’ve definitely felt helpless before,” she answered softly. “Even before dating Frank. And I’ve certainly had it cross my mind that being with him could land me in the middle of something dangerous. Unlike Matt, he doesn’t exactly hide who he is when he goes out and does his thing. But that’s actually why I’ve had him training me in some self-defense and–” she paused, her eyes darting over to Marci who was clearly still very ignorant of this entire conversation, “–taking me to a shooting range lately. To practice.”
Surprise washed over you at her words. So Frank had been training her? To fight and shoot guns?
“You know,” she continued slowly, her eyes still carefully studying you, “if you want, I could see if he’d be willing to teach you, too. If it would make you feel a little better, I mean. Make you feel a little safer or more capable or whatever. I’m sure Frank wouldn’t mind.”
A nervous laugh slipped out of your mouth before you immediately cut it off, shaking your head firmly at the mere suggestion. There was no way in hell Matt would ever be okay with you doing that. If anyone was going to teach you self-defense, it would be him. Though, he’d only taught you some very basic things before he’d stopped, saying that you didn’t need to learn anything further. Because he always claimed that he’d be there to keep you safe–a promise you knew he couldn’t realistically keep. And one that completely ignored your fear about keeping him safe.
“Yeah, I really don’t think Matt would like that,” you told her. “He’s afraid of me getting too close to Frank for some reason. Doesn’t want to risk me getting hurt or something, I’m not sure. But I know Frank teaching me how to tie my damn shoe would start a fight. Hell, me breathing the same air in the same room as Frank would probably start a fight between us. One I’m not sure I need to deal with.”
Karen shrugged lightly in response before rising up out of her chair. “He doesn’t exactly have to know,” she pointed out. “At least, not at first. It’s not like Frank and I can’t keep a secret if it would make you feel better. I can’t imagine Matt would be all that mad at you for learning how to take care of yourself a little more after it's already happened. But it’s entirely up to you. I’m just throwing the offer out there.”
Your gaze dropped down to the dark red heels before you. The image of Matt's lifeless and bloody body in his suit laying all alone in an alley returned to your mind. You winced at the mental image. 
“Thanks, Karen,” you replied, eyes still on the heels in the box. “I’ll uh, keep the offer in mind, I guess.”
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