#meeting. nobody even try me about these two
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7 Minutes in Heaven
"baby, let me take the pressure off you. i'll make the first move, and do what i got to” — PLAY WITH ME, rendezvous at two
SUMMARY: at a party, you end up spending 7 minutes in a closet with the quietest boy in school — matt. when the time runs out and you’re both left unsatisfied, you tell him to come find you to finish what you started.
WARNINGS: smut, sub!matt x dom!reader, praise kink, handjob, edging, oral (male receiving)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: no thoughts just sub matt
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“Who’s next?”
The living room bustles with excitement, the sounds of voices drowning out the thumping music in the background. You originally came to this party with your best friend, but she quickly disappeared with her boyfriend, leaving you to fend for yourself in this ginormous house. Even though you know almost everyone here from school, you haven’t really spoken to anyone yet, which is very unlike you.
So, when someone suggested 7 minutes in heaven, you immediately nodded your head and sat down alongside everybody else who wanted to play. You’ve been sitting here for over half an hour now, patiently waiting for your turn. You fiddle with the cup in your hands, eagerly waiting to see who's going next. If nobody volunteers, you're thinking of being the one to spin the bottle. It's getting boring sitting out here, and you're in the mood for a bit of fun. It's been a while.
“Matt, you go!”
You turn your head, gaze landing on Chris Sturniolo, a boy in your Chemistry class. You’ve not spoken to him much, but he’s always cracking jokes that often times get him sent out of the room. Next to him is one of his triplet brothers, as Chris nudges his arm and points towards the bottle on the coffee table in the middle.
You don’t know much about Matt, other than that he’s the total opposite of Chris. He’s introverted, quiet, shy. Even the way he’s sitting now shows just how uncomfortable he is, hunched over on the couch, looking sheepish as his glasses slide down his nose slightly. You’re not usually into glasses, but you can’t help but think that they look weirdly cute on him.
“Me?” Matt asks, eyes widening as he turns to his brother. Chris nods enthusiastically, so Matt sighs and reaches forward to spin the bottle.
You watch carefully, bringing your drink up to your lips and taking a long sip. The bottle slowly spins to a stop, and much to everyone’s surprise, it ends up pointing right at you.
You feel everyone’s eyes on you but you ignore it, getting up from the couch and setting your now-empty drink down on the coffee table. You begin heading towards the closet, then turn around when you notice you're the only one who seems to be doing so.
“Are you coming?” you ask Matt, who nods quickly, jumping up from his seat and dusting himself off.
“Y-yeah,” he murmurs awkwardly. It’s clear that he’s nervous from the way he’s struggling to meet your gaze, but this doesn’t faze you. You just turn back around and open the closet door, walking inside.
Matt follows, shutting the door behind him. The two of you are now enclosed in darkness, excluding fairy lights that have been strung around the room to give it a calm ambiance.
You and Matt face each other, and it’s only now that you realize how close the two of you are. His breath is hot as he shakily inhales and exhales, trying to keep his cool around you. His behavior only makes you more curious about him… has he ever been this close with a girl before? Now that you think about it, this is the first party you’ve ever seen him at. Usually, he’s always at home whenever his brothers go out, and at school he often keeps to himself or his small friendship group.
“So… uh- how are you?” Matt asks randomly, looking visibly embarrassed. It's evident that he's never played this game before, either that or his nerves are getting the best of him. You suspect it's a mix of the two, because where else would Matt have played 7 minutes in heaven? It makes you smile a little on the inside, the fact that you're the first doing something to you.
“Good,” you reply, playing along mainly for his sake. He nods at your response, before shaking his head, like he’s at war with himself.
“S-sorry you’re stuck in here with me,” he says, which surprises you. “This is probably a giant waste of time…” he trails off, before his gaze drifts to the floor and he just stares awkwardly at his shoes.
“Matt,” you say then, catching him off guard. His neck snaps up and your eyes meet once again.
“Hm?” he mumbles. It’s almost like he hates the attention on him, from the way he stands so stiffly.
“I don’t mind,” you shrug. It’s not like you’re saying this just to make him feel better, either — you’ve always found something about him strangely hot. Your curiosity about him combined with his attractiveness that he hides behind books and his glasses causes you to unintentionally look for him around the halls at school, wondering about his life much more than you should. He’s nothing like your type, but this somehow makes you even more attracted to him.
“Oh, uh, o-okay,” he stammers, like he doesn’t know how to react to your response. You grin, taking a step closer to him. Your chest is now flushed against his front, and Matt freezes at how close you two are. “Uh…”
“Have you ever been with a girl before?” you ask suddenly, cutting him off. His eyes widen comically and even in this dim lighting, you can see his cheeks turning red.
“Um, no…” he says, ashamed. You feel a burning desire between your legs, because somehow his lack of experience turns you on even more.
“Would you like to be?” you continue. Matt nods. “Yeah…” he says quietly. You look down and notice he’s clenching his fists, veins bulging out of his forearms. You raise your eyebrows, since this sight is something you never would’ve expected from him.
Pushing yourself further against him, your arms snake around his neck and tangle in his hair as you pull him into a kiss. His lips are wet and soft against yours, and you’re pleasantly surprised by how natural this feels despite his lack of experience.
His arms are hanging by his sides, so you pull one of Matt’s hands up onto your waist. He hesitates for a moment, pausing the kiss to quickly glance downwards.
“Are you… sure?” he asks, eyes full of nervous worry. You stay quiet and nod, pulling on his hair to pull him back in for another kiss. His grip on your waist tightens which catches you by surprise, and you can feel Matt smiling slightly as you kiss him.
You tug slightly on his bottom lip with your teeth, and Matt can’t help but let out a small whimper from this. The kiss turns sloppier then as you both get more into it, and subconsciously you find your hand drifting downwards.
He pulls away from you then, eyes wide as he jerks slightly at your touch. Your hand is still hovering just over his dick, such a small space stopping you from touching him through the baggy jeans he’s wearing.
“Oh, I’ve, um, I…” he begins anxiously, his eventually words getting caught in his throat and he falls silent. You raise an eyebrow curiously.
“Have you ever been touched like this by a girl before?” you question, although you already have a suspicion of what his answer will be.
“No,” Matt sighs, using a hand to cover his face due to his embarrassment. You use your other hand to reach up and pull it away, before pressing a short but sweet kiss to his lips. Matt practically melts into it, and you take this as your sign to finally touch him.
You palm his dick through his clothes, and he looks downwards to see what you’re doing. You use your other hand to push his chin back up so you’re making eye contact, then slide his glasses up his nose and back into place.
“Look at me, baby,” you tell him, and he whines at both your hand palming him and the nickname.
Matt’s never been called baby before, obviously, but the moment the word leaves your lips he’s instantly desperate for you to say it again. It almost makes him feel special, like he’s all yours.
You move your hand now to grip him as best you can through his jeans, and Matt’s body immediately responds as he bucks your hips into your palm. “Fuck,” he groans, panting at the feel of your hand on him.
“You like that?” you ask smugly, feeling wetness pooling between your thighs at how worked up he’s getting. You could stay here all night with him, watching him slowly but surely lose all control. And hell, even though he’s inexperienced, you bet he could do things to you that would leave you moaning and panting just as he is right now.
“Mhm,” Matt mumbles, too overwhelmed to say anything else.
“Use your words, Matt,” you say, running your knuckles up and down his cock tentatively. He whimpers, then bites down on his lip to conceal the sound.
“I- I like it,” he responds shortly. You furrow your eyebrows, removing your hand and crossing your arms.
“Is that it?” you ask teasingly, and Matt looks at you pleadingly, almost like a little puppy. His eyes are wide with shock at the sudden lack of touch on him.
“What?” he exclaims, eyes darting from your face to the hand that had just been on his dick. “I- please just touch me again. Please,” he begs, voice full of need.
This satisfies you, so you smile and reach for him again, going to unzip his jeans as the two of you begin making out again. You brush your tongue against his which he reciprocates surprisingly well. This only makes you more desperate for him, frantically toying at his pants to free his cock. You felt how big he was even through his pants, and it’s only made you more needy for him.
A loud knock at the door catches the two of you by surprise and you both quickly break away. Matt’s cheeks are flushed and with shaky hands he readjusts his pants, trying his best to hide the erection you’ve caused.
“Time’s up!” Chris’ voice calls from the other side of the door. You walk past Matt to open the door of the closet, but he reaches forward and grabs your arm before you get the chance.
“W-we can’t leave!” he whisper-shouts, gesturing down to his crotch. “What am I supposed to do about this?” he asks you frantically. You just shrug, a smirk playing on your lips as your mind is filled with ideas.
“Come find me later and I’ll sort that out for you,” you reply casually, before spinning on your heels and exiting the closet.
Matt’s cheeks burn and he feels his dick getting even harder at just the thought of the two of you continuing where you left off, and maybe even going further.
He just hopes he can find the courage to seek you out.
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After leaving the closet, you decided to go and get another drink. You weren't interested in playing the game anymore, instead patiently waiting for a certain someone to seek you out to finish what you started.
There's a growing heat between your legs at the thought, your mind wandering dangerously as you think of all the things you'd like to do to him.
Annoyingly though, you haven't seen Matt in what feels like forever. Somehow, he seems to have disappeared from the party. Every time you see either of his brothers you're filled with an indescribable disappointment when you spot the lack of glasses. Maybe he's too shy, after all.
You set down your now-empty red solo cup and head towards the bathroom. Right as you begin walking down the empty hallway, a hand grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
Turning around, you're met with none other than Matt standing opposite you. A soft blush covers his cheeks and his mouth is curved slightly upwards in a nervous smile. You briefly gaze downwards, a smirk taking over your lips at the sight of his tented jeans.
"Hi, Matt," you greet him nonchalantly, acting as if you have no idea why he's here. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Y-yeah," he replies, nodding his head in agreement. "I've been meaning to talk to you."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?" you tease, enjoying the way it makes him squirm uncomfortably.
"I- Uh... Well, you know," he shrugs awkwardly. You raise your eyebrows, acting innocent.
"What?" you question.
"Um..." Matt mumbles, his face scrunching up with shame.
"Use your words, baby," you whisper, leaning closer to him. "Say the words and we'll go upstairs, and I'll touch you wherever you want."
His eyes widen comically at this. Matt opens his mouth to speak, but his words get tangled in his throat and he coughs quietly.
"I, well, I was hoping..." he trails off, losing confidence. But then, he clears his throat and stands up a little straighter. "I was hoping you would, well, get me off."
You smile and nod, shrugging off his grip on your wrist so that you can take his hand, entwining your fingers with Matt's as you drag him upstairs. You pull him into the first empty you find, closing and locking the door behind you.
"Sit down on the bed," you order, and he does exactly as you tell him to. Matt shuffles down the bed so that he's leaning against the headboard, his needy gaze drifting from you to his bulge and back again.
You walk over to him, crawling onto the bed and stopping just in front of him, seductively kneeling before him. You look at his crotch, drawing circles on his thigh with your finger just as you whisper, "You're such a slut, Matt."
His mouth falls open and he shakes his head. "What? No I'm not!" he insists, shaking his head slightly. You tilt your head to the side, batting your eyelashes at him.
"Are you sure?" you ask, your hands drifting upwards to the waistband of his jeans. "Because everyone knows only a slut would come back for more."
Matt gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing up and then back down. Your hand glides up further to cup his dick through his clothes, and he shifts at the touch, breath becoming heavy.
"You're lucky I like sluts," you go on, palming him just as you were in the dark enclosure of the closet earlier.
"Ugh, fuck," he pants at the pressure of the touch.
"You must be so sore," you tease, pressing down harder which makes his hips buck up into your hand. "Do you want me to touch you now, properly?" you ask then.
"Yes, plea- Fuck. Please touch me," Matt barely manages to get out.
"Only because you asked so nicely, baby."
Your hand moves to the zipper of his jeans, which you pull down and Matt lifts his hips so that you can pull his pants and underwear down. He closes his eyes as his cock springs out, the tip a soft red and already leaking slightly from how long he's been waiting. You resist the urge to gasp at the sheer size of him, especially as you eye a thick vein running from the base to his tip.
"Such a pretty cock," you muse, before spitting into your hand and wrapping it around him. A pant escapes Matt's lips as his eyes spring open to see what you're doing to him. Your index finger circles the tip, rubbing some of his precome around it.
"Oh," he breathes, a whimper leaving Matt's lips as you begin to slowly pump him up and down. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, throwing his head back against the headboard as his body is filled with pleasure at your touch.
You're literally soaking wet by now, having never known how hot it could be to watch a man come undone like Matt's doing right now. The way his lip hangs between his teeth and his chest rises and falls has you practically desperate for him to finish just to see how pretty he looks doing it.
You stop pumping him for a moment and Matt looks back down at you, his lips turned downwards into a frown because of your stopped movement.
"W-why'd you stop?" he asks, looking visibly concerned. "Am I... doing something wrong?"
You could laugh at the absurdity of his statement, but you don't and just shake your head. "No, baby," you reassure him, beginning to trace slow, tempting circles around his tip. You rub the pad of your thumb against his slip, causing him to moan loudly and scrunch his eyes shut. "You're doing so perfect, I almost wanna taste you."
Matt's eyes fly open, his gaze filled with need. You shrug your shoulders. "Would you like that?" you ask, and he frantically nods.
"Y-yes," he says between breaths and groans. "Please taste me."
You grin, shifting closer and straddling his thighs. You lean down over him, sticking out your tongue to teasingly lick his slit. Matt bucks his hips, whimpering, pushing more of himself into your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise and you pull yourself off of him, looking up to make eye contact with him.
He's gone pale, mouth open and eyes wide as he realizes what he's just done.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry..." he mutters, looking away from your sheepishly.
"Don't be sorry, baby," you reply easily. "It was hot," you add, and Matt's eyes widen, his gaze snapping back to you.
"R-really?" he asks, voice full of pleasant surprise.
"Yeah," you confirm. "You know what else you can do? Grab my hair and push my head down if you want more."
"What?" Matt exclaims, throat bobbing with nervous excitement. "Are you sure? I mean, if you don't want me to- I'm not really very good at this."
"I'm here to make you feel good, Matt," you remind him. "Do whatever you want to me."
The slight change in power dynamic has Matt's heart racing, and his cock twitches just at the thought of watching your head bob up and down on his cock. While he's still creating scenarios in his head, you reach forward and pull his glasses from his face.
"What are you-" Matt cuts himself off as you slide the glasses up your nose, watching him through the lenses. His cheeks turn a bright pink, but you don't give him the chance to say anything else before you get back to work, licking delicate circles around his tip as your hand pumps the lower part of his dick, around the base.
"Fuck!" Matt moans, his head hitting the headboard with a thump from how hard he throws it back. You giggle around his cock at how easily it is for you to rile him.
You continue to bob up and down, your tongue swirling around his cock when all of a sudden you feel his fingers tangle in your hair. He pushes you down further, and with the third thrust of your head you feel him hit the back of your throat. "Shit, that feels so good, mhm..." Matt whimpers, more to himself than you.
His sudden acceptance to be dominant only makes him hotter in your eyes, and you feel your pussy throbbing even more now. Wearing his glasses isn't helping your case. "Fuckkk," he groans, and you close your eyes as the sound echoes in your mind. You love the thought of Matt being yours, all for you to please and pleasure.
"Fuck, I think I'm gonna-" Matt doesn't have the chance to finish his own sentence before you feel a rope of his warm cum shoot into your mouth in quick spurts. You take it all and slowly pull yourself off of him, swallowing the warm liquid.
"Does that feel better, baby?" you ask smugly, looking at Matt's fucked out face as he breathes heavily.
"Mhm, yeah," he mumbles, not entirely there yet. "You make me feel so good."
"You should come to more parties," you tell him, getting up off of the bed to grab some paper towels to clean him up a little. "Then we could do this again."
"Are you serious?" Matt says, eyes wide.
"Of course," you answer, sitting back down next to him and taking off his glasses. You slide them back up his nose so they sit perfectly on his face, then plant a short kiss to his lips. "I'm waiting for my turn, you know?"
Matt remains quiet for a minute, before his cheeks turn bright red. "Oh!" he gasps. "Right- I'm sorry. We should do that now. It's only fair."
"Slow down, pretty boy," you answer, smiling. "I'll let you rest a little. Next time, I promise."
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AUTHOR'S NOTE PT. 2: needy submissive men are so hot UGHHH this was so fun to write. idk if it's that good tho LOL so lmk
#mattsturniolo#matt sturniolo#sub matt#sturniolo smut#sturniolo#sturniolotriplets#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo
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Evening Kisses
Pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!reader
Summary: After a long, hard practice, Connor comes home to his girlfriend and a classic makeout on the couch
Warnings: Swearing, kissing, Connor giving reader hickeys, technically underage drinking since it’s set in Chicago
Notes: This is my first fic ever, so please go easy on me. I am really proud of this, since so often I write something and think it is horrible, so this is a big step for me. Based off of one of the headcanons, so this one is "secretly loves to give you hickies but always makes sure they will be covered by clothes"
Connor unlocks the door with a sigh. Practice was rough and the weather has turned to shit. He toes off his shoes as the scent of onions and garlic meet his nose. A smile creeps onto his cloudy face when he thinks about the person behind the mouth-watering food. The one who sees Connor in a way nobody else can. The one who knows him.
He grins –fully this time– when he hears the music playing softly in the background. You can take a girl out of the country, but not the country out of the girl.
“Y/N, baby, I’m home”, he calls out, hanging his coat up and grabbing his phone.
“In the kitchen” she replies just as he walks in, “How was practice?”
“Rough. Harder than normal. Defense was put through the wringer, after that last game, and Richardson made us do sprints. We have got to get our shit together. A few guys were a little green by the end. Is there anything you need help with?”
“Just grab the wine out of the fridge. I had Janelle pick it up for me.Oh, grab the salad too. Greek tonight”
Connor heads around the island to the fridge, first stopping at the stove and wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. She relaxes into him, leaning her head back on his shoulder as his temple meets hers. They stand like that, eyes closed and relishing in the feeling of each other, finally. They sway gently to the beat of the music, a classic country love ballad that is one of Y/N's favourites. Y/N’s fingertips danced along his forearms before linking their fingers.
“I fucking hate long distance. Maybe I should try and transfer to school here”, Y/N says quietly, feeling tears well in her eyes.
Connor chokes up at her words, inhaling a shaky breath before he speaks. This topic is one that was discussed hundreds of times while Y/N was applying to school. They both knew it would be hard, but as they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Hearing the tears in her voice, Connor swallows the lump in his throat and replies, “I know, baby, I know it sucks. I hate it too. I wish you were here more, and that I had more time to come up to you. But we can do this, let’s not take a moment we have together for granted.”
She turns in his arms, giving him a proper hug, holding each other close. He kisses her head, then kisses her lips tenderly. Y/N rests her head on his chest and feels the low thud of his heart. Connor drops a kiss to her shoulder and moves to get the wine and salad and the pasta is dished up. They discuss the happenings of the day over dinner, the momentary sadness over being apart evaporates. Connor shares animated stories of the Foligno kids and the better parts of practice. Both Connor and Y/N are wearing equally large smiles with love in their eyes. Their combined efforts have the dishes done, leftovers put away, and kitchen cleaned in record time.
Y/N pours a second glass of wine for the two of them and she settles on the couch, tucked into Connor’s side with his arm around her shoulders. He turns on the TV, Modern Family playing quietly as they sit in comfortable silence. Connor’s hand runs down her arm, landing low on her hip. Her hand sits in his thigh, thumb slowly rubbing back and forth. Y/N breathes deeply, inhaling the fresh scent of the soap from Connor’s after practice shower and his spicy cologne that lingers on his shirt, feeling drowsy and safe and warm. She tips her head up at him, meeting his eyes. He has a gentle smile on his face, bringing his hand to cup her cheek. Connor strokes her cheek with his thumb before tracing the line of her jaw, his eyes taking in her face, committing every detail to memory. The colour of her eyes, freckles on her cheeks, her full bottom lip.
His thumb catches on her lip, gently tugging it open before letting it go. He dips his head to hers, their lips meeting in a chaste kiss. Connor pulls back, but Y/N slides her hand around the back of his neck and brings their lips together again. This time deeper, more intense. She pushes up into a sitting position, her other hand finding Connor’s shoulder.
He grips her hip, holding her close and steady, other hand still on her cheek. He lets his tongue press against her lips, and she opens willingly. As they sink into the kiss, Connor grabs her behind her knee and pulls her to straddle his lap. The moment is all overlapping breaths and rushed inhales, searching hands and pure love. Both of Connor’s hands are on her hips now, slipping lower to grab her ass through her jeans. Y/N’s hand threads through his hair before tangling in his grown-out curls at the nape of his neck. Heavy breaths and light moans filter through the room when Connor kisses down Y/N’s neck, dragging his tongue over her jaw. His hands slide under her shirt, wandering over her bare back. He pulls her closer by a belt loop.
He peels her shirt off, and she returns the favour. Y/N tips her head back as Connor moves down her neck and along her collarbone, sliding her bra straps down. She lets out a breathy moan and moves to clutch his shoulders, she feels the firm muscles move and ripple under his warm skin. He pauses, nipping and sucking at her skin. The air is warm in the apartment, thick with tension. His hands sit firmly on her hips. Once Connor is satisfied with the mark he left, he moves a little lower, repeating the process again, and again.
It's a good thing it is winter, once Connor is done and moves to kiss her lips again. Y/N winces a little when his fingers brush the new bruises.
"I'm sorry baby." he whispers against her mouth.
She simply smiles and says back to him, "No, you're not, and neither am I. I love it just as much as you do."
This closeness, the intimacy of the moment is something the two cherish when they are apart. Connor pulls Y/N into his chest, holding her close. He draws shapes lightly along the bare expanse of her back, goosebumps rising in their wake. Her hands find hair, playing with the ends. Their foreheads rest against each other, eyes closed and arms wrapped around each other. Contentment and drowsiness replace hurried desire.
Connor stands, setting Y/N on her feet. Offering her his hand, he says, "Come on love, let's get to bed."
#sunset fics#connor bedard#nhl#chicago blackhawks#connor beard x reader#hockey imagine#nhl x reader#connor bedard imagine#nhl fluff
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A FEW INTERESTING THINGS
I guess I need help
So if y'all dont know, I'm trying to revise my boyfriend's d3ath.
It's been two months since I have been affirming and a few days since I got into the concept of void. Now, I'm trying to get into the void.
I've noticed a few crazy things, that I would love to share.
I've always affirmed that “everyone will forget about my boyfriend's demise because it was just my nightmare and no such thing ever happened. He's all alive and healthy” So I guess my affirmations are kinda playing out.
1.
When I got to know about his demise, I sent him like 100 texts that day, I was so emotional and poured down everything to him. He not only is my boyfriend, but also is my best friend. The bestest friend ever and it was the worst day of my life. I was never ready to lose him.
I sent those 100 texts to him on Snapchat and obviously, my texts were just delivered. Nobody read them because that "nobody" Was long gone. I'm talking about feb, 2024. So I checked his snapchat after a few days of emotional ranting, and those texts didn't show up. I thought it might be a glitch and now after like 3 months, I went back to check on him because I missed him and guess what? ALL OF THOSE TEXTS ARE GONE!
Now idk if I'm tweaking but wtf? Snapchat has this feature where messages get deleted after 24 hours of being seen. But nobody saw my messages to begin with, where are those texts????
Like... All the snaps, that were sent before those texts and even after those texts are still in delivered, not seen.
Can anyone tell me if this is a glitch? This couldn't be, right? It's been 3 months to that incident, if it were glitch, it would have been fixed by now but idk-
2.
My bf would post about his travelling and stuffs in Instagram reels and I often visit his account to look at him all alive once again and one day, I noticed one of his reels cover has changed 💀 and I even showed it to my sister and friend and they were shocked too. I thought it might be a glitch too. But it stayed like that for 3 days and then switched back to what it was before.
This might be a glitch idk honestly but my friend said it might be a "timeline/dimensions overlapping"
3.
Two of my close friends are really logical minded and I never told them about my manifestation/shifting to a reality where my bf never got into an accident, because they wouldn't believe me. They don't even believe in multiple realities... So, not worth it.
A week ago, I texted one of these friends, saying that I feel like my bf is alive (emotional ranting) and all she told me was to hold up and move on, I'm thinking way too much 😮💨
And that's that. We didn't talk much about it.
After a few days of that, she texted me herself telling me that she feels the same. She feels as if my bf is alive too and maybe faking a death. We didn't get into the conclusion but yeah, we are still in doubt.
Also I would daydream about meeting my bf once again and i would make infinite possibilities to proof my reasoning mind that he's alive. So one of my imagination was my friend texting my bf's brother (they have nothing in common, they don't even know each other yet I imagined them talking) and his brother would say that my boyfriend is actually alive. And that scene exactly happened, except for the alive part. my friend talked to his brother to get his "last" Pics and guess what? They don't have that. Which is super weird because that accident just happened this year and those photos are gone. I texted one of his other brother who always replies to my texts and always give me updates about how their family is grieving but when I asked about pics, he left me on seen— again very weird.
Moreover, all of them (his family members) have moved on completely. They are enjoying and travelling. Idk how but like in a month of my bf's demise, they started partying a stuff which is super weird to me.
.....
I guess my affirmations are kinda becoming true. My 3D is maybe conforming slowly (?) Idk 😭
Lemme know what y'all think. Any tips on revising such thing would be appreciated. Thanks for reading 🎐
I'm sorry if I don't make any sense, I'm probably being delusional. Sorry for the rant 🥲🤌
#law of assumption#revision#loa#loassumption#loa success#loassblog#revising death#death revision#loa blog#manifesation#manifesting#void state#the void#eiypo#loablr#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting community#shifters
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Defending Dick Grayson from people who think he wasn’t kind to Jason at first is a full-time job and I’m always employed
#‘it took him a while to get over his resentment’ it took him half a minute to get over his initial upset at seeing another kid wearing his#family’s colours and his name. and he denied ever having been resentful of Jason at all when bruce accused him of it (and it was very#clear that bruce was the one wrong and accusing dick falsely here)#there is not a version where dick isn’t kind to Jason. there isn’t even a version where dick doesn’t connect with Jason during their first#meeting. nobody even try me about these two
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you get the impression there might be alot of things your boyfriend is holding back on exploring.
ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, cnc, predator x prey, outside / wood scenes, some rough play, he’s such a tease, minimal prep ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiiii this idea literally hit me like a brick so i had to get it out my system before i died w it <3 honestly i cut this off a little earlier than originally planned because my brain couldn’t do a whole fic but i hope u guys enjoy regardless :3
you’d enjoyed your day out with gojo as you notice the way the sky around you both has began to darken pretty quickly, but you appreciate the change of scenery— grateful that he’d offered to take you out on a little day trip. he’d insisted he knew a place with a pretty view that was close to one of the school campuses, apparently it was used to host the kyoto sister-school good-will event a few months ago.
that was your destination now as you both walk down the street in that direction, your hand is in his but you still shiver despite the way his palm is warm around yours. his thumb strokes it’s way along your skin as you turn to look at him, it’s an innocent touch as you listen to him talk about his day but the air feels stuffy between you both— your hairs standing on edge before his hand squeezes.
your eyes meet gojo’s as you turn and you notice the way his strays to trail down the pretty line of your throat, sweeping along your figure in you’re pretty dress. his gaze is dark and expectant, but the smirk on his lips looks as pleased as ever as a tinge of anticipation makes you feel suddenly too hot for your skin. still, you smile when you feel his fingers skim from your hand up your arm then across to your lower back, an encouraging sort of touch that urges you to lean in closer.
“you cold?” he asks despite the way he can probably feel the heat running beneath you skin, his hands stroking slowly along your spine as his breathing fans along the shell of your ear. but a shiver still manages to pass through you when he squeezes at your waist.
you let him hold you for a few moments on the side of the street, you’re close to where you’re headed— you can see the tree line break when you turn to your left. you huff and gojo presses his lips to your cheek before he sighs into your ear, his words a low, drawl of a sound as he speaks to you only.
“one, two..”
the electricity that seems to rush through you is enough to make you quiver before you break away from his suddenly loose grip, something in your lower abdomen squeezing as your breathing becomes erratic.
the stride you take is quick as you rush quickly down the side walk, nobody seems to notice your sudden escape from the man’s arms that you looked so comfortable in a moment ago and even if they do— they don’t bother asking. the wind feels warm as it blows through you but you don’t dare look back, you can basically feel the hungry, crystalline gaze on your figure as the rush of adrenaline in your system seems to push you faster.
you can see the entrance to the trees as you make your way towards it, it’s dark but you feel the thrill ignite something in your nerves as you brush by the people still left on the street. your chest feels tight, it’s barely started but your heart is already pounding, beating at your ribs like it’s trying to climb up your throat as you near the outskirts of the campus.
you approach the opening before you allow yourself a quick glance over your shoulder, it’s a momentary look but it’s enough to make something warm shoot down your spine when you notice the looming figure in the crowd. his eyes are still locked in your direction despite the distance, like he can still see you— feel you from so far away as you finally decide to put your adrenaline to good use with your first step into a jog.
but you don’t notice that the figure seems to already have vanished from the crowd by the time you turn back around.
it’s quiet as the forest seems to swallow you whole, leaving you with only your breathing and the sound of your footsteps as you drink up the response that your body seems to have to this, to him. your heart is racing as you run but the air does wonders for your overheating skin, fanning over your features as you push yourself even deeper into the shadows.
you push yourself through a sprouting bush as your head twitches instinctively at a noise to your left and you swear you see it, him— the crystalline blue from his gaze as he stands a few feet away and you gasp, before suddenly it’s gone and you feel the sudden urge to go faster.
“what’s this, hm? aren’t you a cute lil thing.” it’s like an echo the way his low drawl travels through the trees around you, like something haunting as you almost lose your footing. it feels like he’s everywhere at once, deliberately letting himself flash into your peripheral vision— you can hear him in the trees above you, the bushes to your side, in the direction you’re heading towards.
“well, gotta be faster than that. come on, you can do it. don’t wanna make it too easy for me.”
your head twitches slightly before you duck into the heavier oak tree to your right for a breath, you can barely hear anything with the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears — there’s a throb between your thighs, fuelled by the lick of fear that follows before you hear the crunch of the grass behind you.
“oh? thats clever. but you can’t hide forever, don’t go shy on me now.” gojo drawls in the distance, dangerously as you try to suck in quick breathes, feeling your lungs quake with each exhale before you try to catch a glance behind you, eager to know his location— but you need to keep yourself moving.
“lookin’ for me?” you shriek when you snap your head back around to see him already in front of you, hands shoved in his pockets as he tilts his head down at you smugly. it’s like fight or flight the way you go to push past him to set off again but he’s already gone by the time you even blink, leaving you with your heart in your throat and the echo of his chuckle, left to only listen for his next location.
you feel like you’re caught in his web and every movement only tangles you further, but you can’t deny the flicker of lust at the base of your spine that comes with it.
it’s quiet for a few moments except from the rush of your own feet, like you’re being taunted with the taste of an escape, until you hear it— for the first time hear him, his footsteps as you try to steal a look into the darkness behind you that feels like it’s threatening to swallow you entirely.
then that’s when you actually see it, the way gojo’s tall form seems to rip its way from the shadows like he’s finally stopped playing with you — something unhinged and a little wild in his eyes as he gains on you alarmingly quick. he could’ve caught you already, all this time but that’s not fun— your heart is throbbing as you gasp at the sight of him, hearing the heavy footsteps as he sprints after you, the distance he’s closing quickly filling your mind as you make a break into the trees.
“so fast, sweet girl! but did you really think you could get away from me?” he teases from behind you, goading as you realise how close his voice actually sounds. you’ve never run as fast as you’re running right now, every thud from behind you feels like it kicks your legs out from under you but you can’t stop.
but fuck— gojo loves you like this, in your desperate, needy state, you’re like a bunny running from the jaws of a wolf as he watches you twist for an escape, such perfect prey.
you swear you feel his longer fingers reach for you, like the hairs on the back of your neck are standing to attention, atoms drawn into him like you’re above to be snared in a trap— but still so lured in by his touch as he gains on your figure. you almost fumble at the realisation, your feet slipping and giving you a few more seconds— a last ditch effort to escape as you skid on your feet and turn, making a break for the slight opening in the trees, just down by the river.
“hm? oh, well. guess i’ll be a little rough.” you hear gojo chuckle behind you as you keep moving and the sound tempts you into casting a last glance over your shoulder before you realise he’s already there, it only takes him a few strides of his long legs— it’s like he seen that move coming.
you can’t help but scream at the sudden contact of his hand on your skin, instinct telling you to push him away as you try but his grip is tight— pulling you into him before he’s taking you down hard onto the cool grass beneath you. the impact leaves you a little dizzy and disorientated as you both breathe deep, the breath feeling like it’s been knocked out of you as you try to drag yourself away from where he has you pinned between him and the earth, claiming and caging you.
“there we go, that’s better. right where you need t’ be, hm?” gojo’s voice shakes as he speaks to you, so driven by his lust as he watches you struggle beneath him, clawing at the dirt as he presses you down. his breathing comes quick as you feel his hand clamp around your waist — reaching up between your breasts to squeeze his hand around your throat and drag you back the few measly inches you’d escaped until you’re against his chest.
“oh, but you ran so well f’ me, princess. feel what you do to me, hm?” your eyes flutter at the way he presses his clothed cock into you, letting you feel the impressive strain of it through his slacks as he all but ruts you into the dirt beneath you like an animal. you stop struggling at that, collapsing under his weight and suddenly pliant with the hard press of him between your legs, already dripping with the adrenaline that courses through you as your cheek rests against the cool grass.
“p-please, please..” your voice is tight with need as you try to rock your hips back into his, feeling gojo curl his way over you before he’s pulling away entirely to twist you onto your back. that’s when you finally see him, mused and needy— hes flushed, something dark pooling in his usual bright gaze and it makes you gasp as he shoves your dress up your quivering legs, wrapping them around his waist before his huge body is pushing between your thighs to kiss you breathless.
“told you i’d catch you, didn’t i? knew i would, think i was gonna let you go? a sweet lil thing like you?” he’s gone completely as he speaks into the kiss, burying praise and filth between your lips as you squeeze your legs around his waist, grabbing at his snowy roots until he’s groaning against you.
he can’t wait any longer, gojo’s moan is wrecked as he pulls away to mouth at your throat, biting and suckling at the skin as you arch up into him. you’re panting out sweet little pleas, begging for him as he breathes through clenched teeth, tearing so mercilessly at your panties before his pants and belt follow afterwards and you need him so bad you feel tears bead at your lashes.
“aww, you cryin’ f’ me?” he tries to tease but it comes out as more of a breathless croon of a laugh, his cock twitching while your eyes look down to sweep over the thick curve of him. he pushes his chest closer to you, letting your hair tangle in the earth beneath you both as he takes you beneath him.
gojo would normally take his time prepping you, but you’re already a puddle of mewls and whines beneath him, basically begging for him already as he lets his cock tease it’s way through your folds, swiping the head at the slick gathered there as you feel the friction burn and sizzle into something that warms your body from the inside out.
“satoru, please!” you gasp and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline, the chase or the anticipation that makes it so easy for him to press his way into you but you’re soaked, feeling the first real silky grind of his cock split through your folds before it’s catching on your clit, making you both gasp and moan at the wet tacky sound that follows.
“oh? so greedy f’ me.” the desperate hug of your pussy feels like it pulls him in as you rub your slick along his cock, forcing him closer before he’s finally sinking into your twitching cunt. gojo’s hand fists your hair before he’s shoving your head back so hard your back arches, lapping into your mouth as you tremble and squeeze around him— panting loud in your ears as he hunches over you. “mm, but you’ve got me so hungry f’ you, baby.”
you’re so tight and barely prepped as he drags you along the grass beneath you— feeling his teeth drag along your lower lip as he ruts himself into the warm hug of your walls. every wet withdrawal of his hips is loud but the slap back is even louder as it echoes around the shadows, he’s like a man possessed, completely unhinged as his hips smack so mercilessly into yours it burns, forcing your walls to stretch and mould to him.
you’re already so close gojo can feel it as he presses deep into your body, losing himself in the pleasure he’s earned, the pleasure he owns as he claims his little prize as you claw at his shoulders for any sort of release.
“my sweet girl, ran so hard and all f’ me. you said you could handle it, so ‘ts all mine to take now, right?”
© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you
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thinking about fellow soldier!reader coming back to ghost after having been mistaken for kia
gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley
-maybe he's back in your shared apartment, holding the last photo he took with you.
-it was taken the day of your birthday, with your arms around simon's waist and a gleeful smile permanently etched on your face.
-you were looking directly at the camera with your eyes crinkled at the corners. simon, however, was looking at you and only you with an expression only a lovestruck fool could manage.
-he had long since stopped crying about what he believed was your death. when price came to him with a somber expression and the news that you were on the wrong end of an explosion, the only thing he could do was cry or be angry.
-now, he felt nothing.
-you could imagine his surprise when he hears the front door open. did he forget to lock it? was someone breaking in? he didn't care enough to prepare himself for a potential attack.
-but, no, you walked in with an ungodly amount of bandaged wounds and a tired look on your face.
-you expected him to stand from his place on the sofa to meet you, but he didn't. he thought he was imagining things, again, so he said nothing.
-"simon," you said softly, not bothering to take off your shoes and throwing you things onto the ground next to you.
-still, he said nothing.
-"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. price said he tried to contact you but that you never answered," you continued. nobody knew where you and ghost lived, and simon's grief took the form of self-isolation.
-he still didn't answer you at this point, and it was becoming unsettling.
-"simon, can you hear me?"
-"you're not real," was all he could muster. he didn't have the heart to tell "fake" you to go away or beg himself to wake up from his supposed dream. "i can't do this again. you're not real."
-you realized just how hard your false death had hit him.
-"i'm real. i promise. i was able to take cover last second and-"
-"no. you're dead with not even a body to recover because i wasn't there to protect you. god, i..." the words got stuck in his throat as he leaned forward on the sofa, holding his head in his hands and near trembling.
-you dropped to your knees in front of him like a follower worshipping their god. taking his hands, you held them tight as you could in a silent attempt at convincing him you were alive.
-there was a moment of silence between the two of you before he drew his hands away from yours. it made your heart hurt.
-"simon..." you were grasping at straws, now, trying to figure out how to convince him of what was true. maybe there was something in your luggage that might help.
-as soon as you turned your body to your bags by the front door, you were pulled right back in by a pair of strong arms.
-he was hugging you like the moment he let go, you'd disappear into thin air (and, in a way, he believed it to be a possibility). after being pulled from your shock, you immediately brought your own arms to reciprocate the embrace.
-"(y/n)," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. there was still a part of him that couldn't believe he had you with him. if he weren't so thankful, he'd be lecturing you about acting wreckless on missions and convincing you to quit your job so nothing like this happened again.
-but, for now, he was content like this.
#call of duty imagine#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#cod imagine#cod mw x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost imagine#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#cod angst#call of duty angst#simon riley angst#ghost angst#rara writes
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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll
ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k
Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand?
But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.
Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really.
“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness.
“I’m thinking.”
“Aren’t you always?”
“About you.”
“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.”
“You’re truly humble.”
His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again.
Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Fine.”
You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow.
“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.”
“I’m not traumatised.”
“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.”
He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important.
Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen.
You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?”
He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.”
“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.”
“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed.
“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.”
“What did he say to you?”
You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.”
“Did he call you that?”
“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice.
“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.”
“You’re flirting with me.”
“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours.
He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession.
“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says.
You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go.
“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.”
“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.”
Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.”
The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating.
#spencer and bombshell reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜
.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight
contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.
author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎
7:58 PM
satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.
but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.
dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.
now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.
no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.
you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.
you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.
which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.
"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"
he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."
you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."
at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.
"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"
"satoru."
"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.
10:34 PM
"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.
it's been like this every night.
"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"
"is it about the blindfold?"
"obviously."
he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."
"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"
he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."
you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."
"then why'd you as-"
"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.
satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."
"you seriously think i'd do that?"
"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this."
"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"
"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."
he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.
so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"
"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile.
"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."
satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word.
but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself.
how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.
a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him.
but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.
so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.
somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.
a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves.
"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"
satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."
he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.
to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.
"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"
"satoru, you look the same."
he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.
"yep."
"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."
"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."
"ah, i believe it was only six days."
"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"
satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin. "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."
he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days.
but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.
#osaemu#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo fanfic#gojo fic#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk angst#gojo angst#satoru gojo angst#gojo fluff#satoru gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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birthday gift
FOR: THOMAS SHELBY X VIRGIN READER
Warning: Somewhat Incestuous, Virginity Loss, Innocence Kink, Smut
Summary: You are Tommy Shelby's adult stepdaughter. On your birthday at Arrow House, he comes to your room and tells you that he has a special gift for you, but you cannot tell your mother about it.
Note: All Characters are over eighteen!
The ticking of the clock echoed softly in the dimly lit bedroom, marking the passage of time on your birthday night and marking it two years since you moved to Arrow House with your mother Sarah who now was married to Thomas Shelby, the infamous leader of the Peaky Blinders.
You lay curled beneath the sheets, your heart beating rapidly within your chest. You could not shake the uneasiness and excitement gnawing at your insides.
What did your stepfather mean when he wanted to give you a special but secret gift for your birthday, you wondered?
You remember how, over dinner, he leaned forward and stared at you intensely before finally saying, "I have something very special planned for tonight. Something you cannot tell your mother about." It left you feeling both curious and apprehensive at the same time.
But you couldn't resist him, not after all these years of seeing his intense gaze and admiring his muscular body. So, you agreed to meet him at midnight, in your private chambers, so that he could give to you whatever it was he wanted to give to you.
And now, here you were, lying awake in your bedroom, wondering what would happen next.
The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts. There he stood, dominant and enigmatic in his black pants and a shirt, a subtle smile playing on his lips. He closed the door gently behind him and crossed the room, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Hello, Sweetheart," he said softly, his voice carrying an undertone of warmth and reassurance. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as he approached the bed.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his large hands settling on your shoulders lightly as you too sat up, revealing your modest nightgown to him.
With tenderness, he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"You said that you had something special planned for me tonight," you started nervously, trying to formulate your question. "Will I need to get dressed for that? Will you be taking me somewhere?" you asked, but Tommy shook his head.
"That's right, sweetheart. I have something special planned for you, but it does not involve us leaving the house," he replied softly, his eyes still holding yours with their intensity.
"So, what do you have planned then, Tommy?" you asked curiously with your cheeks blushing in several shades of red and pink.
"I want to make you feel really good Y/N, would you like that?" your stepfather announced. His voice dropped to a husky whisper, and an even deeper blush crept across your face as you nodded hesitantly. You knew deep down that something about this was wrong, but the thought of pleasing him as well as the attraction you felt towards him overwhelmed any doubts.
Tommy shifted closer, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist, pulling you against his firm body as, still, you were sitting next to him, just much closer now.
"Has another man ever made you feel good down there?" he asked gently, running his fingers over the naked flesh of your thighs, all the way to the area beneath your nightgown.
You swallowed nervously, your cheeks reddening even further. You hadn't ever discussed such things with anyone before, especially not with a man like your stepfather.
"No, no one," you admitted, finding yourself answering truthfully, your voice wavering slightly. "No, nobody has ever touched me there." You watched his expression change from curiosity to relief, his eyes searching yours for understanding.
"So, no one has ever touched your pussy, eh?" Tommy clarified, his voice gentle yet commanding.
"No" you confirmed, feeling the nervousness building up inside you. You didn't quite understand why you were suddenly feeling anxious, but you realized that this was something different from the other experiences you had shared with your stepfather. You felt vulnerable, yet excited by the prospect of discovering new sensations together.
"Would you like me to touch your pussy?" Tommy then inquired gently, stroking your hair once more to calm your nerves. Your heart raced, and your palms grew clammy with anticipation.
Nodding timidly, you gave a hesitant, yet enthusiastic affirmative. Your eyes locked with his, conveying trust and eagerness.
"Good," he murmured, bringing his hand to your waist, his fingers grazing the smooth fabric of your nightgown. "It will feel nice, I promise," he told you as, with tender precision, he slid the fabric aside, exposing your delicate thighs to the cool air.
"Spread your legs a little, Sweetheart," Tommy said and, after you reluctantly complied, he slowly slipped his hand into your panties, his finger making contact with your virgin cunt.
"Relax," he cooed, placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead as he still sat next to you, gently touching your sensitive folds.
"There's nothing to be afraid of, Sweetheart. I won't hurt you. I will just make you feel good, eh?" His voice was reassuring, his touch tender, and you found yourself calming down under his guidance.
"Does it feel nice?" your stepfather then asked gently, his finger continuing to stroke your inner folds, evoking sensations you had never experienced before. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes, and focusing on the sensations coursing through your body.
"Yes, it feels strange but nice," you admitted softly, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze.
"Good girl," he reassured you, a warm smile on his face as he continued to run his fingers over your cunt gently before, finally, removing them and bringing them to his lips.
He tasted your essence and smiled. "See, you are already getting wet for me too," he said while using his soaked fingers to gesture towards your moistening panties.
Your face flushed crimson, and you turned away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment.
"Why am I getting wet?" you asked quietly, feeling embarrassed.
"Because your body is responding to my touch Sweetheart. It wants more if it," he explained, his voice warm and comforting. "It's a natural reaction."
As he spoke, his hand continued to caress your inner thigh, drawing circles on your soft skin.
"Just relax and enjoy it," he advised gently, his tone reassuring as his fingers dipped back into your folds, gently circling and teasing your budding entrance. You moaned in response, your body relaxing slowly, giving into his touch.
"Can I have a look at your pussy? I would really like to see it," Tommy eventually whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
"Okay, but just quickly," you nodded, taking a deep breath to steel yourself.
"Okay Sweetheart. How about you take off your nightgown and panties for me and lie down. I will only have a quick look, eh?" Tommy said, his voice filled with anticipation.
"Okay, Tommy," you replied, carefully removing your nightgown and panties as your stepfather had instructed.
Lying down on the bed, you felt exposed and vulnerable, but Tommy seemed to sense your discomfort. With his gentle touch, he lifted your leg onto his shoulder, positioning your entrance at eye level.
His eyes traced every curve and fold of your pink, wet flesh, a mix of desire and admiration flashing in his eyes. "This is beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Tommy then kneeled by your side and touched your wet folds again, his eyes hungry with desire.
"Can I have a look inside?" Tommy asked softly, leaning closer. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you nodded hesitantly, unable to say no to him. He gently placed his finger on your labia, testing your readiness.
With two fingers, he then opened you up, exposing your inner flesh to his gaze gently by parting your lips and saying, "I am going to put one finger inside you now, Sweetheart," his eyes glazed over with lust.
You trembled, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through your veins. You felt the gentle pressure of his index finger as it pressed against your tight entrance, gradually working its way inside you.
"Is this alright, Love?" he asked, his voice full of concern. You nodded, trying to stay composed as the sensation of having something foreign inside you sent shockwaves throughout your body.
"Is this, okay? Can I go a bit deeper?" he repeated, making sure you were comfortable with his ministrations.
"Yes, it's fine. You can go a bit deeper I think," you replied, trying to maintain composure.
The feeling of your stepfather's finger inside you was both alien and enticing, sending waves of excitement coursing through your body.
"I can go even deeper if you wish, past your hymen," he offered gently, his fingers probing further within you. You hesitated, unsure of how far you were willing to go. "Only if you're ready," he added, assuring you of his care and respect.
"I don't know," you stammered, your breath catching in your throat while Tommy withdrew his finger from your wet folds.
"That's fine, Sweetheart," he said, before making another inquiry. "Perhaps I could kiss you down there for a while? That will help you relax," he said gently, leaning closer.
You hesitated, feeling torn between your instinctive response and your trust in him. Ultimately, you nodded hesitantly, allowing him to continue.
Soon, his lips brushed against your sensitive folds, exploring the terrain with his tongue. The sensation was foreign yet inviting, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.
"Do you like that?" he asked softly, his mouth lingering against your sensitive flesh.
"Yes," you breathed out, your heart racing as his touch became more intimate.
"Do you want more?" he asked gently, his thumb gliding along your sensitive folds, eliciting sensations you had never experienced before.
You nodded, tentatively giving in to his guidance. As his fingers teased and explored your inner depths, he positioned himself between your legs, his eyes seeking approval from you.
"I want to taste more of you, Sweetheart," he whispered, his eyes reflecting a mix of tenderness and hunger. You hesitated, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
"What should I do?" you asked, looking into his eyes for guidance.
"Just relax and let me make you feel good," he replied, his voice soothing.
With gentle ease, he lowered his head and began kissing and suckling your most intimate parts, evoking sensations that sent ripples of pleasure through your entire being.
As he explored your folds with his mouth, you couldn't help but let out small cries of ecstasy, reveling in the novelty of the experience.
His tongue danced along your inner walls, evoking feelings you had never imagined possible. In that moment, you knew that you wanted more, craving the unique blend of pleasure and vulnerability that his touch provided.
"You are incredibly responsive," Tommy complimented you, the tip of his tongue darting across your sensitive flesh.
"It feels amazing," you confessed, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you tried to hold onto the intense sensations coursing through your body.
"I didn't know it could feel like this," you whispered, your breath hitching in your throat. "And it makes me want more," you confessed, the words tumbling out of your mouth in a mixture of wonder and arousal.
Tommy pulled away slightly, his face filled with pride and satisfaction at having brought you to such heights of pleasure. "It is an incredible experience, isn't it?" he said softly, stroking your cheek with his hand.
"Yes, it is amazing Tommy. Is that what you do with my mum?" you asked, feeling a sudden burst of curiosity.
"No, we do things differently, Love" he assured you gently, his eyes reflecting a mix of love and respect for your mother. "But it's time for you to explore these sensations," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. His hand returned to your folds, his fingers gliding effortlessly through your wetness, teasing and pleasuring you. The sensations were unfamiliar yet intensely gratifying, causing your body to respond with increasing fervor.
"What do you do with her and the other women you visit?" you asked, your curiosity piqued by the intensity of the sensations he had brought forth in you.
"Well," he began, thinking of the right words to say before simply telling you straight-out, "I usually put my cock into their holes, Love."
"Into here?" you asked, touching your cunt while feeling intrigued and yet nervous at the thought.
"Yes, Love. It goes in there sometimes, and it feels really nice when it is inside," he replied gently, his hand expertly moving your hand out of the way and stroking your folds as he talked.
"Would you like me to do this to you?" His question took you by surprise, sending waves of nervousness and curiosity coursing through your body. "I think you would enjoy it," he said, smirking slightly.
"Uhm, I don't know Tommy. Can I see it first? Your penis, I mean," you said, your curiosity growing.
Tommy smiled, understanding your hesitation.
"Of course, Sweetheart," he replied, sitting up and undoing his trousers. He revealed his erect member, which was already dripping with precum. It stood tall and proud, causing your eyes to widen in surprise.
"It's big," you said, your eyes fixated on his impressive length.
"Not too big, just right for you," he replied confidently, his voice filled with pride. "I think you will find it pleasurable, if you let me put it into you."
You looked up at him, still feeling uneasy but intrigued by the idea of experiencing something new. "Will it hurt?" you asked, a slight quiver in your voice betraying your apprehension.
"Only at first." He assured you gently.
Your eyes traveled from his erection to his face, searching for reassurance in his gaze.
"Okay, yes, you can put it inside me. But just for a little bit," you finally agreed, your voice wavering with uncertainty.
"Good girl. I will be gentle. Now, how about you lie down for me, eh?" Tommy suggested, helping you get into a more comfortable position.
You obeyed, lying down on your back, your breath coming in short gasps as you awaited his next move.
Tommy undressed quickly and then positioned himself between your legs, his eyes filled with desire as he looked upon his prize. He reached down and tenderly caressed your cheek, smiling reassuringly.
"Are you ready to become a woman, Sweetheart?" he asked, his voice deep and full of anticipation, and you nodded hesitantly, steeling yourself for the unknown journey ahead.
Tommy positioned himself between your legs, his large member teasingly close to your entrance. Slowly, gently, he pushed inside you, guiding himself with careful precision. Your eyes widened in astonishment as he entered you, filling you with his presence. His gaze locked with yours, a mix of concern and adoration evident in his eyes.
You gasped, overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness, yet yearning for more. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, both from the intensity of the sensation and the emotional weight of the moment.
"Am I hurting you?" Tommy asked gently, his own breath quickening in anticipation. "Yes," you replied, surprised by the intensity of the sensation, yet eager to continue. "But just a little. Please keep going," you urged, wanting to overcome the initial discomfort and fully embrace the sensations. Tommy nodded, his eyes softening with affection as he adjusted his position, ensuring maximum comfort for both of you.
"You are very tight, Sweetheart. Much tighter than your mother," he said appreciatively, his brow furrowing with concentration as he began to move inside you.
"It hurts a bit," you admitted, wincing as the sensation intensified. "Is it normal?" you asked, feeling both embarrassed and concerned.
"Of course, Sweetheart. It is normal. You have never done this before," he replied, his expression mirroring a mix of tenderness and understanding. "It's natural. Just take your time, and remember to breathe deeply, eh," he instructed, guiding you into a slow rhythm that helped steady your breathing.
"There, that's it. Let go of any tension, Love," he murmured, his voice soothing your nerves. With each thrust, you could feel the pressure gradually dissipating, replaced by a wave of unexpected pleasure. The feeling of fullness engulfed you completely, sending shivers down your spine.
Despite the pain, you found yourself becoming aroused by the intensity of the sensations.
Each movement by Tommy seemed to increase the pressure, pushing you closer to the edge of pleasure. Your body began to arch and writhe beneath him, craving the release of the building tension. Your moans filled the air, signaling your increasing need for fulfillment.
Tommy noticed your response and adjusted his pace accordingly, his movements becoming more deliberate and focused. The sensations intensified, igniting a fire within you that burned brightly. Your cries of ecstasy echoed throughout the room, causing your body to tremble in anticipation.
The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you entirely. Your body convulsed underneath Tommy, unable to resist the urge to come. As the peak approached, you felt the world around you spinning, your vision turning black as your mind succumbed to the all-consuming bliss.
Finally, the climax came, washing over you in a tidal wave of pleasure. Your muscles contracted involuntarily, pulling Tommy deeper into you.
He groaned in satisfaction, his hands grasping your hips firmly until he could not hold it anymore.
With a final surge of power, he gave one last thrust, coming deep inside you, his entire body shuddering with ecstasy.
"What just happened?" you asked, your eyes wide with shock. Your body still trembled from the overwhelming sensations, your mind trying to process the experience.
"You just had your first orgasm," Tommy answered gently, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "I am glad I could give that to you, Sweetheart."
"I didn't expect it to feel so good," you admitted, your voice still shaky from the intensity of the moment. "But I really liked it."
"I promised, didn't I, eh?" Tommy chuckled as he pulled out of you and with him came a thick stream of sticky liquid which ultimately leaked onto the sheets beneath you.
"What, uhm...what is that?" you asked, your eyes fixed on the fluid that had just come out of you when Tommy pulled his cock out of your cunt.
"That's called cum, Love," Tommy explained gently, using a clean towel to wipe the excess fluid off your body. "It happens when a man orgasms. It's normal, so don't worry, eh."
He cleaned you thoroughly, making sure to remove any traces of his essence. He then wiped himself clean with a towel, disposing of it neatly in the bin.
"Now, Love, I think you should rest. I believe you have gone through quite an experience today," he said, his voice full of fatherly concern. "I want you to lie down and sleep for a few hours. And tomorrow, we will talk some more, eh?" Tommy said, planting a kiss on your forehead. "But remember, all of this needs to stay our little secret. Your mother cannot find out about this," Tommy reminded you, his voice stern and protective. "Promise me."
"I promise," you said solemnly, pledging your loyalty to the secret they were sharing.
"Good girl," Tommy replied, relieved. "Now, get some rest, Sweetheart."
#cilliean murphy smut#cillian murphy#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby x you#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy selby x reader#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine
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NOBODY’S BUSINESS ✹ luke castellan
part one
( summary ) social media au where luke’s sudden spike in confidence turns a few heads, including the head of your ex who just loves to jump in other people’s business
( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader , mentions of ex bf! hephaestus camper x reader
( notes ) this feels a bit rushed bcs i’m sick rn but i hope you guys enjoy anyway!!
♫ American Teenager by Ethel Cain
♡ liked by maxwalsh , silenabeauregard , and others
yourusername proof that percy doesn’t actually hate luke
seaweedbrain hey girlie!!! can you take this down like immediately?? not to sound to mean or anything but i can and will find you 😇
yourusername you’re such a cutie perce
seaweedbrain kys
sarahdawson totally wasn’t held at gunpoint for that last pic guys no need to worry
connorstroll we weren’t worrying but thanks anyway ig
sarahdawson sleep with one eye open.
lukecastellan 2/10 post
yourusername sorry for messing with your tough guy image 😔
lukecastellan actually it only loses points bcs there’s no pics of you
chrisrodriguez WOAHHHHHHH
sarahdawson HIS BALLS FINALLY DROPPED
clarisselarue bit sad to know they weren’t completely crushed after the red team kicked their ass icl
yourusername oh trust they were all whining about it the second i put away the camera
clarisselarue good.
GROUPCHAT — chb’s finest
clarisselarue: y/n what is max doing in your likes…
sarahdawson: HES WHAT
sarahdawson: oh he’s brave
yourusername: IDK HE JUST APPEARED
yourusername: like a bug
seaweedbrain: or a rat
yourusername: that too
lukecastellan: he’s on his way for training with me rn so i’ll go extra hard on him
silenabeauregard: homoerotic subtext goes crazy
yourusername: thanks luke but really you don’t need to do that
yourusername: like i’m over him now and i just want to forget about him altogether
lukecastellan: he deserves a hard time for what he did to you anyway
lukecastellan: you deserve way better than that
lukecastellan: i mean anyone would
seaweedbrain: great save bro
lukecastellan removed seaweedbrain.
sarahdawson: oh you took that one personally
DIRECT MESSAGES
clarisselarue: ok when did you get game
lukecastellan: idk what you’re talking about
clarisselarue: oh please spare me i’ve had to watch you make googoo eyes for the past two years you can’t lie you’re way out of this one
lukecastellan: seriously idk what you’re talking about clarisse
clairsselarue: ok fine whatever but HYPOTHETICALLY if you were to try anything with my girl i want you to know that i approve but trust if you go a toe out of line then you will be dealt with
read.
♫ My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski
♡ liked by drewtanaka, hazellevesque , and others
[ tagged: sarahdawson ]
yourusername you’re the only thing i’ll ever thank a man for
yourusername thanks max
this comment was deleted.
sarahdawson I SAW THAT COMMENT GIRL THAT WAS BRAVE
drewtanaka surprised sar isn’t screaming for photo creds for the second slide
sarahdawson bcs i didn’t take it……..
silenabeauregard WOAH WHAT
pipermclean yourusername hey sis can we have a chat please
yourusername nope i’m doing cabin checks rn #counsellorissues
wisegirll i’m doing cabin checks rn though???
silenabeauregard the plot thickens
lukecastellan glad to see you listened to my advice
yourusername felt bad keeping my beauty from everyone
lukecastellan it was a rough time without it
groverunderwood chrisrodriguez now THESE are moves
chrisrodriguez LOOK AT MY BOY GO gods is this what normal parents feel when their kids go to college
maxwalsh nice earrings
this comment was deleted.
seaweedbrain we all saw that comment right…
clarisselarue yes.
DIRECT MESSAGES
maxwalsh: hey can we please talk
yourusername: no
maxwalsh: please babe cmon you didn’t even hear me out
yourusername: because you tried to kiss sarah you fucking asshole
maxwalsh: no it wasn’t like that you don’t get it
maxwalsh: look can you just meet me by our old spot and i can explain everything
yourusername: no
maxwalsh: babe you’re not acting like yourself
yourusername: bcs it’s not her, she’s asleep rn and she’s not your “babe”
maxwalsh: who tf is this???
yourusername: doesn’t matter
yourusername blocked maxwalsh.
lukecastellan posted to their story!
SARAHDAWSON replied to your story
sarahdawson: WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH SLOW YOUR ROLL WHAT
CLAIRSSELARUE replied to your story
clairsselarue: “idk what you’re talking abt clarisse” oh i hate you so bad
SILENABEAUREGARD replied to your story
silenabeauregard: i’d know that silhouette anywhere…
CHRISRODRIGUEZ replied to your story
chrisrodriguez: i’m a bit hurt i wasn’t told in depth about this before but i’m too proud to pay attention to it GOOD FOR YOU MAN
MAXWALSH replied to your story
maxwalsh: so it was you who had her phone the other day
maxwalsh: wtf man
lukecastellan: womp womp
lukecastellan: you snooze you lose and you lost big time
♫ Nobody’s Business by Rihanna, Chris Brown
♡ liked by jasongrace , racheledare , and others
[ tagged: yourusername ]
lukecastellan and it ain’t what??
yourusername AND IT AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS
clarisselarue ok edward cullen why are you eating her neck like that
silenabeauregard everyone i took the hammock pic thank me please 🙏😇
yourusername thank you beautiful angel
seaweedbrain cute i guess…….
chrisrodriguez I ALWAYS HAD FAITH IN YOU BRO EVEN WHEN EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU WERE A LOSER WITH NO GAME, I STAYED ROOTING FOR YOU
lukecastellan appreciate you bro
lukecastellan wait people said that about me???
wisegirll my favs 😭🫶
yourusername AWE ILY ANNIE
seaweedbrain oh i’m just dirt to you then? chill.
wisegirll you’re so dramatic percy
seaweedbrain oh so mental health matters until I’M the one hurt? cool.
lukecastellan and y’all were saying i had no game
seaweedbrain okay luke see that’s just not funny because your dad literally dances on a revolving stage for a living
lukecastellan had to bring out the dad jokes because you know i’m right?
seaweedbrain why is your old age pension ass beefing with me instead of talking to ur girlfriend… weird behaviour
sarahdawson too cute i fear
sarahdawson but you i must remind you mr castellan, i made it onto her feed first. you will ALWAYS be second to me. always.
drewtanaka anyone else hear weeping from the hephaestus cabin…
leovaldez it’s really depressing
leovaldez i think he just punched a hole in the wall
cbeckendorf he did
pipermclean LMAO WHAT A FUCKING LOSER 😭😭☠️☠️
( taglist ) @perseus-jackass @harrysnovia
#charlie bushnell x reader#luke castellan x aphrodite!reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#percy jackson x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader
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Appetizer
Summary: A night out with the team takes a delicious turn.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ only. Minors DNI.
See my Masterlist Here
“Give me your panties.” Your boyfriend Spencer, commanded. He was different since he got out of prison. There was something dark about him now. You weren’t complaining. Sure, you missed the old Spencer, but now he was rougher with you.
The sex was good before, but now he didn’t treat you like a porcelain doll, afraid you would break even from the lightest touch. He was still sweet to you, but you would have to say the sex is better.
You look at him with wide eyes, reaching your hand under your dress to remove them. You place one hand on his forearm to steady yourself, pulling your feet out one at a time. You fold them, placing them in his outstretched hand. He puts them in his pocket, grabbing your hand before you leave to meet the rest of the team.
When you arrive, you take a seat next to Penelope. She beams as you settle in, telling you how beautiful you look. You order your drinks when the server stops by. Kristy, Matt’s wife is talking about their kids, but you stop listening when Spencer’s large hand caresses your thigh.
Your eyes meet his, he lifts an eyebrow at you. You turn back to the conversation, Spencer leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms. “I don’t want to hear a sound fall from those pretty lips. Do you understand?” You nod your head, breath caught in your throat.
“Alright love birds, get a room!” Penelope teases you. You smile and laugh, pretending you weren’t affected by Spencer’s words. You are suddenly thankful you chose a black dress, so nobody else would see your arousal flooding the fabric.
Spencer’s hand inches higher, so close to where you need him. You continue talking with the girls while Spencer talks about the case the team just solved with Luke and Rossi. You squirm, the anticipation making it hard to sit still. Spencer removes his hand, taking a sip from his drink.
You stifle a whine, pretending you have to cough. Spencer’s hand returns, higher than before. You wonder if he can feel your desire for him dripping down your thigh. Your silent question is answered when he rubs it into your soft skin. The heat from his hand makes you throb. If he would only move his hand a little to the left and put you out of your misery.
The server starts taking everyone’s orders starting with Penelope. She hands her menu to the smiling man, who acknowledges you. “For you, miss?” Spencer plunges two fingers inside you, and you can’t remember what you were going to order. You were lucky you didn’t cry out at the sudden intrusion.
The server smiles, but you can tell he is growing impatient. “I, umm.” You begin, but Spencer cuts you off. “She’ll have the steak medium rare.” He answers for you. You smile at him in appreciation as his slender fingers curl, hitting your g-spot.
You quickly grab your glass and bring it to your lips, trying to stay silent. His thumb slowly swirls your clit, and your vision goes blurry. You grab his arm, needing something to steady yourself. The server comes by with the appetizers for the table, giving you a sideways glance. For a brief second, you think he knows.
Any worries about that fade as quickly as they came while Spencer’s long fingers slide in and out of you. You’re silently praying that Penelope can’t hear the obscene squelching every time his fingers glide into you. She’s none the wiser, gushing to Tara about her latest date.
Spencer continues working you with slow strokes of his fingers, his thumb dragging across your clit in small movements. Your fingers dig into his leg under the table. You watch as he acts unaffected, eating the greasy appetizer with his free hand. You shouldn’t be this turned on in public, in front of your coworkers sitting right beside you.
The server returns with everyone’s meals as Spencer picks up his pace. He adds another finger, strumming your clit with his thumb. It’s an effort not to rock your hips into his hand when you are so close. His thumb works faster as he curls his long fingers once more, tipping you over the edge.
Your steak is placed in front of you, as your orgasm rips through you. You grip the table, needing to hold on. You’ve never came this hard in your life. “Are you alright, miss? Your face is flushed. Would you like some more water?”
“Y-yes please.” You manage to mumble as your pleasure fades. Everyone looks at you, Emily asks if you want her to go to the bathroom with you because you do look quite flushed. You refuse, blaming it on the restaurant being too hot.
After your refill of water, everyone starts to dig in. Spencer removes his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth. His tongue swirls around the tip of one of his fingers. “Mmm” he moans as your taste reaches his tongue. “If the main course is as delicious as the appetizer, I’ve found my new favorite restaurant.” He winks at you, wiping his hand on his napkin.
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid hot#spencer reid au#spencer reid cm#spencer reid fic#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#matthew gray gubler#appetizer
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My Charming Red Savior [2]
・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!
That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.
Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.
“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”
You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"
Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"
You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."
"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."
Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it.
You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."
Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."
You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."
Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.
At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked.
“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.
You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.
Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.
As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat.
“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.
“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”
You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned?
As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea.
Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive?
Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.
Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers.
It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.
“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?”
Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head.
He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval.
You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.
His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness.
It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?
You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”
The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets.
“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.”
He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.
A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation.
Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze.
“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”
The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.
“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”
Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.
“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.
You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts.
As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display.
Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.
You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.
It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men.
“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?”
The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”
The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.
“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.
“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”
“Do they have a background in fashion?”
“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.”
The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet.
“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”
The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.
“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.”
What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-
“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.
Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel?
“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.
“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.”
That couldn’t be true, could it?
Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.
“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.”
The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”
You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.
“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.”
Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip.
“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.”
He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”
As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.
“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”
You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for.
He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door.
“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view.
Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.
You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin.
Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name.
You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.
What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.
Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection.
You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.
Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him.
Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.
“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.
You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.
“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”
“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”
It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.
That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building.
“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later.
“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?”
You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time?
“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”
Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.
“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person.
“You are?” He asked incredulously.
“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.”
Hopefully, he would buy your lie.
Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.
You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.
The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.
Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music.
“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!”
Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?
“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway.
Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.
He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.
“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”
He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty.
“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear.
Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.
“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon.
Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”
You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?
You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.
“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”
His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside.
Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.
“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you.
As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath.
He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.
“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.”
Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.
Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve.
“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?”
Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.
Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.
“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?
“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.
He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him.
“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room.
Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day.
You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.
Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing
“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.
“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”
He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.
You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.
Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color.
While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room.
He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull.
As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.
“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table.
You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.
“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.
“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table,
‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’
“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.”
Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.
Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll.
“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”
“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?”
You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table.
With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.
“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.
“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.”
“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.”
As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay.
“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve.
“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”
Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work.
Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.
Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.
“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.
“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”
You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric.
“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?”
You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.
The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.
“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.
‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet.
Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking?
“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.
The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished.
It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace.
You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”
Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it.
“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.
You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry?
“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”
“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.”
A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring?
“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”
You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.
“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.”
Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly.
The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.
It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.
“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!”
Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.
What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.
Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you.
“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.”
“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.
Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”
Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.
“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”
‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.
Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.
“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.
You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.”
“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”
You shook your head, “no, not really.”
“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”
Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain.
The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.
“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”
“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.
Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you.
He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.
“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.
You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.
Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.
The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.
You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.
For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.
You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.
It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.
Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.
You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form.
“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.
Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.
“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.”
“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him.
“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”
You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.
“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.
You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.
This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.
“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.
Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.
“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”
His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.
“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.
He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.
It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.
Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened.
The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch.
You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.
It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.
The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.
The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.
Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.
The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.
“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!”
Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?
Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.
It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter.
Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures.
There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him.
There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.
It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle.
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.
“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion.
Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.
“Um, hi..?”
I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha
and.. hold up yall…
for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!
Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)
HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3
have a great day, my swans! 🦢
—
taglist:
@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites
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I know Alastor craves Wifey’s attention, but does Wifey crave his attention in the same way?
🥴
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: None?? I think???
Description: ☝️⬆️
Alastor loves having your attention but he loves it even more when you seek him out, he loves being needed by you
He tries to hide his giddiness though, he can't be caught grinning like a fool because his wife wants a hug from him
He has a reputation to uphold
He's in his radio tower and you suddenly sit yourself in his lap mid broadcast? He's wrapping an arm around you and kissing your head while you bury your face in his neck
He cuts out the broadcast for a moment to give you the proper attention, tilting your chin up so that you look at him
"Just a moment, folks! Hello darling, stressful day?"
His claws are scratching along the back of your neck, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine as you lean against him
"Mmn... just wanna be with you..."
Suddenly you're being squeezed tight, your face smashed into his neck so you don't see the heat rising to his face over how cute you are
Anyone who might've been listening would find the screams of the broadcast suddenly interrupted by sharp crackling radio static
He's trying to get out of bed and you whine that you want him to stay?? He's going to try his hardest and resist the urge to jump back in
That is until you wrap your arms around him and press your chest to his back, rubbing your cheek on his shoulder
"Just stay in bed...we could have a lazy day..."
Alastor has to rub a hand over his face to hide his blush, his smile tight from trying not to coo over you, giving you a small kiss
"You have to get up too, my dear~ Come on, I'll make breakfast."
He stands up only to feel you hanging off of him, legs wrapping around him with determination
"No. I stay with you."
"Fine then, I'm going to get started on our day."
"I'll be right here~"
A small bleat escapes him, actual steam coming out of his ears as he helps support your legs
"Darling please! What will everyone say?"
You just close your eyes and hum, resting your head against his back as he laughs at the absurdity of the situation
"Don't care. Going back to sleep..."
Nobody dares look at you two as Alastor walks about the hotel with you strapped to his back, they all do their best to pretend like it's not happening
Except Angel who laughs as soon as Alastor walks into the lobby with a mug of coffee in hand, ears down low as he tries to hide his embarrassment
"Ha! Whipped!"
There's been plenty of times where you've just come to him wanting his affection for a moment before scampering off
You've even interrupted overlord meetings because he left without giving you a goodbye kiss, you always found an excuse to get in
One time, you even showed up with trays of food, trailing behind Rosie and Zestial, who both helped you crash the meeting and carry food
Carmilla was visibly surprised at the sight of you, doing a double take and cautiously sniffing the air
"Y/N..? What is all this..?"
You don't miss the way your husband's cheeks light up as he tries to look as innocent as possible, realizing his mistake
"Alastor forgot his lunch and I just couldn't let all of you go hungry..! I hope you don't mind~"
You brought out the big guns with the food, and none of the overlords even make a fuss about you being there
You come around to your husband's chair, hearing him audibly gulp as you lean down to kiss his temple
"Hello again, my dear-"
"You forgot to kiss me goodbye, darling~ What's a girl supposed to think when her husband won't kiss her?"
You sound so pitiful and cute, he can't help but stand up to squeeze you into a proper hug before walking you out to try and preserve some of his image
"They're just so cute, aren't they? Young love and all that~"
"...they are."
"Aren't they both like-fucking old?"
"Eat your food."
It's already gone, Alastor
"Forgive me, my dear... I was in a hurry and didn't realize-"
He feels even worse when you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a sad face, resting against him
"You owe me...at least 12 kisses and not little ones!"
He's fumbling to find the words to say, using one hand to push away your kissy lips while he looks away from you
He knows he looks so whipped right now-he needs a moment to compose himself
Once he's able to look at you again, he knows it's all over, a soft blush on his face as you kiss his palm and stare at him
"Darling..."
"I just want some attention from my husband, is that so bad?"
He can't deny you anything, leaning in to give you a soft kiss and rubbing your cheek, you nearly kill him when he pulls away and sees your lovesick expression
"I'll be home soon, I promise. You'll get all of my time and attention after that, deal?"
You close your eyes and nuzzle against his hand, practically hugging his arm to keep him there
"Mm...making deals with a man like you is dangerous, what do you want in return?"
Alastor can't help but grin, pulling you in closer for another kiss and stopping just before your lips touch
"I've already got an adorable wife~ Buuuut~ If you're offering something then maybe we go out dancing later?"
He kisses you before you can answer, pressing his forehead to yours as he smiles at you
"It's a deal then~"
Reluctantly, he lets you walk away after giving you a few more kisses only to realize later that you got exactly what you wanted
When he walks back into the meeting, everyone's eyes are on him before they suddenly look down at their meals
"What?"
Carmilla coughs awkwardly and Rosie pushes a mirror towards Alastor, who discovers his face is covered in lipstick marks
He can't even bring himself to be mad, sighing fondly as he takes a napkin from Carmilla and wipes his face off
What is he going to do with you...
I hope you like this one!!
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin x reader
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innocent - coriolanus snow
you never would’ve thought you’d end the night with a peacekeeper in your bed…
cw: 18+//loss of virginity//piv sex//handjobs//fingering
an: this gif is him above me 🤭🤭
perhaps it had been a bad idea to wear such a short skirt to the hob that evening. you’d caught the eye of many men as you swayed to the tunes of the covey; cheap moonshine in hand. you noticed one in particular—the one with those piercing blue eyes and platinum blonde buzzcut—was watching you intently.
you couldn’t help but blush, cheeks dancing with the warmth of being seen, chest filling with that sticky feeling. you’d felt it before, but the smiles of those other men had never amounted to anything more than a lingering kiss or two. your heart stirred when he came up to you, and you realised he was a peacekeeper. you knew better than to get entangled with one, or so you thought.
it was hard to resist one so charming and attractive.
'i saw you looking at me,' he remarked, drawing his arms around your waist.
you could barely meet his gaze, embarrassed by the way his cool touch sent a shiver down your spine and made your thighs tingle with want.
'shy are we, bunny?' he asked, removing one hand to cup your chin, drawing it up to meet his icy blue eyes.
you shook your head, but your eyes told the truth; fluttering about the room, trying to look anywhere but him. you wondered if anybody could see you—it would've been shameful to be caught so close with a peacekeeper. but nobody seemed to be paying you any heed, and so your pounding heart ceased its nervous palpitations.
‘how about a dance?’ he laced his fingers in your hand, moving it up so it rested against his shoulder.
you were acutely aware of the other hand which rested at your waist, and you couldn’t exactly say no when he had already moulded you into the perfect stance. the band began to play a slow song, and the blush stained your cheeks once again. he laughed, an almost mirthful laugh—although, coriolanus snow was never somebody to really, truly laugh—not that you knew that.
‘are you going to tell me your name, officer?’ you drawled, deciding that there was no harm in flirting. he was so handsome after all; and it would be rude not to talk to him.
‘it’s private, actually,’ he admitted bashfully, as if he was ashamed of his inferiority. but next to you, he felt powerful. you were just a district girl, and much smaller than his six foot frame. he could do anything he wanted to you.
‘well private, you ought to have a name,’ you began. ‘and it’s awful rude to not introduce yourself to a lady.’
you were teasing him; he wondered how many men you’d used that line on, but when he looked at the way you were bright red, and how your knees buckled a little, even as you attempted to maintain your composure, he reckoned it couldn’t have been many.
‘it’s private snow,’ he told you curtly.
you smiled; a pretty name. much different to the names here in 12, though you reckoned a peacekeeper was probably from one of the other, wealthier districts. not that you knew much about those.
‘well, private snow,’ your voice had a sweet twang to it, and he found himself thinking of another girl he knew, once, with that same appalachian drawl. he had come here to find her, and yet had no luck.
but you weren’t so bad—no, you were even prettier, and probably didn’t have a man like billy taupe clinging onto your skirts. he wondered if you had ever even kissed a man before. you had the sweetest looking lips, so plump, and a little wet with the moonshine you’d been sipping.
‘how are you liking district 12?’ you continued, brows quirking up with interest.
‘it’s alright. commander hoff works us to the bone but i suppose that’s the price you pay for 20 years,’ he huffed. his eyes looked a little distance—sad, perhaps. you wondered if he’d had much choice in the matter. still, even if he hadn’t, you did have to admit he would probably look good in his peacekeeper uniform.
‘20 years?’ your mouth stretched into a circle of surprise. ‘my, that’s terribly brave.’
his own cheeks reddened a little, though he quickly swallowed that feeling. he couldn’t blush, that was pathetic. that was something his fellow peacekeeper sejanus plinth did. no, a woman like you wasn’t to be caught by a blushing man. he needed to show you what it meant to be had by a peacekeeper—not the ambitious schoolboy in academy rouge that he’d left as soon as he’d set foot in 12.
‘i suppose so…’ his voice trailed off.
‘how do you keep yourself entertained, private snow?’ you asked as you swayed a little to one of the songs the covey was playing.
his mind flickered to what he’d been planning on doing to you—he’d not touched a woman in weeks, and at night he often found his body receptive to any and all thoughts. tonight, he had the chance to actually satisfy that ache that had been bottled up for weeks. he wondered if you’d feel better than that girl he did in the alley—at least his mind was clear tonight.
‘oh, dancing with pretty girls like you is one way of staving off boredom, bunny,’ he pressed a kiss to your hand, watching as your lips puckered into a bashful smile.
how innocent. he’d love to ruin you. he wondered what noises you’d make with his cock buried deep inside of you. you were probably tight as anything, just begging to be filled up with his cock.
‘well, if you think i’m pretty then i suppose i’ll have to thank you,’ you gazed up through your thick lashes, fluttering them ever-so-slightly.
his cock stirred in his pants—you were so fucking tempting. the way you were just begging to be fucked. he cocked a brow, curious as to what your intentions were.
‘what kind of thanks, bunny?’ he asked, breath fanning your ear.
‘well…’ feeling daring, you stroked at his chest, feeling the taut muscles underneath his shirt. you noticed the dog tag dangling, and a smirk played at his lips.
‘how about a kiss?’ you offered. oh, you were so innocent.
he nodded, and you felt your heart flutter. you worried he’d think you were being too forward, what, with you offering so quickly. but he was just so handsome. you wondered what his lips would feel like against yours.
perhaps you wouldn’t have to wait so long to find out…
you dragged him to a more secluded place, feeling a little too embarrassed about kissing him in the throng of people. he wondered, as you led him down the corridor of the hob, just how much you’d be thanking him. maybe you’d let him touch you a little, hands straying to cup your breasts, and then perhaps caress your hips. one thing would lead to another… and sweet virgins like you were easily persuaded.
coriolanus was swift with his kiss, leaning into you as you were pressed against the wall. you kissed back, soft at first, but when you felt his tongue pressing against your lips, you opened your mouth and surrendered.
he wrapped his hands around your waist, palming at the skin beneath your shirt. a heat crept upon your cheeks as his lips kissed yours with a hunger. pressed up against you, his cock twitched a little in his pants. he had to have you, you were practically begging for it in a skirt that short.
‘you taste so sweet, bunny,’ he mused as you pulled away from him. he wondered what you’d taste like in other places, whether your cunt had the same sweetness of your mouth.
you wanted more—your cunt ached, an unfamiliar feeling, but nontheless you knew you needed to be satisfied.
coriolanus could see this, the way you clenched your thighs together, and how your heart thumped inside your chest. he’d felt it when he’d been flush against you.
‘you wanna thank me some more?’ he inquired, blonde brow cocked.
you bit your lip, but you knew you couldn’t deny the rush inside your body, the way you were growing increasingly wet between your thighs. the ache that nagged at you, yearning to be satisfied.
‘mhm,’ you nodded dumbly, feeling his hands grab at your thighs.
‘you live alone?’ he asked, desire glinting in his eyes.
you shook your head, and a frown scampered upon his lips.
‘well, my pa’s not home til late, if you wanna come over…’ you drew a heavy breath, nerves making your knees buckle.
his frown turned to a smile, and he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. how endearing, the way you called your father pa. you were so beneath him, and he was determined to teach you that you belonged to him, the poor little district girl who’d been snapped up in the peacekeeper’s trap.
—
your house wasn’t far from the hob. coriolanus was glad of this, his cock was straining so hard in his trousers—he worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself, and finishing without even having touched you. well, that would just be a waste; embarrassing even.
you fumbled with the keys, and he felt a smile scamper upon his lips as he watched you, so afraid, his poor little bunny, struggling to open the door. when you finally slotted the key in the lock, coriolanus’ arms were wrapped around your waist, fingers tracing lightly across your skin.
‘you know bunny, you really should be careful around strange men,’ he murmured against your ear. you were acutely aware of what was pressing against your bottom.
‘but you’re not strange… you’re a peacekeeper,’ you hummed, moving your legs over the threshold. he still clung to you, breath heavy, hands roaming.
you had to get inside before anyone saw, and god forbid, alerted your pa. there was something deliciously thrilling about having a man inside of your home—you wondered if it made you a whore, inviting him inside and only having known him an hour. but you knew many girls who did that, and at least you weren’t taking money for it.
‘mhm, but men like me… well, they just can’t resist taking what’s theirs,’ he pinched you, watching you gasp at the stinging feeling of your delicate skin between his fingers. you looked so sweet when you squirmed.
‘well maybe i want you to take what’s yours,’ you looked up at him with wide eyes, fingers lacing against each other as you swung about.
you looked like a little lamb, so sweet and innocent. he wanted to take you between his jaw and make you bleed.
‘is that so, bunny?’ he asked, and you nodded dumbly.
you trailed along to your room, not desperate enough to let him have you against a wall, glancing back at him every so often and watching as his eyes followed you. you shoved the door open, and switched on the little lamp by your bedside table.
your room was bare, for the most part, but coriolanus felt it suited you, the cream bedsheets and the old floral wallpaper. it was so innocent. he wondered if you’d stain those sheets tonight as he stretched you out. he’d want to keep them, as a reminder of what he’d taken from you.
you sat down on the bed, and he followed suit, still reminded of his achingly hard cock. you couldn’t keep your eyes off the bulge in his trousers; it was of a considerable size, and made you gnaw at your lip in anticipation.
‘i want to help you,’ you said, mouth going dry at the sight of him.
‘help me, bunny?’ he inquired. your words were a little cryptic, but he could tell that your eyes were clearly focused on his achingly hard cock.
‘mhm, you’re so hard,’ you murmured. although you were innocent, you’d read enough romance novels to figure out what he needed.
‘you can certainly help me,’ he grabbed your hand and guided it to his clothed hard-on.
you palmed it lightly, gasping as you felt it. he watched as your mouth spread into an exclamation of delight, lips flickering a little. you were so innocent, the way you were gentle in your touches, how you sighed with amazement.
he groaned at the touch, but moved your hand away to free his cock from the restraints of his pants and boxers. your mouth hung agape as he pulled them down to his knees and you were presented with his hard cock. he was big, not that you’d really seen a cock before, but it had to be at least eight inches, and it was throbbing desperately against his stomach.
coriolanus guided your hand back, and wrapped it around the base. you could feel the blood coursing through it, and saw a little bit of precum dribbling from the tip.
‘just move your hand up and down, princess,’ he cooed, and you stroked him, sweaty palms not causing as much friction as he expected.
you moved your hand to the tip, and he urged you to give it a squeeze, groaning as you did so. you felt so good, the way you were thumbing his dripping head, stroking so diligently. but he wanted more, he needed to feel you.
your thighs burned as you continued to stroke him, and you watched as he bucked his hips a little at your touch. you fastened the pace, not too quick, but just enough that his breaths grew haggard. it didn’t seem so intimidating now that you were doing it, and his moans suggested you were doing a good job.
but still, your own body was aching with need, and you found yourself grinding into the bed. coriolanus saw this, the way you were practically squirming, and moved one of his own hands to grip at your thigh.
‘does bunny want me to touch her too?’ he said between breaths.
you nodded lazily, hand still pumping his cock. he was close already, the feeling of your hand too much, and the anticipation of finally burying himself deep inside of you was sending him over the edge.
coriolanus’ fingers traced lightly up your thigh, and when he reached your skirt, he pushed past the hem and slipped between the apex of your thighs. you spread them, and gasped as you felt his fingers brush against the wet patch of your panties.
‘oh bunny, you’re so wet,’ he sighed, his cock throbbing. he was so close…
you mewled as he removed your panties, fingers gently prying them off of you and leaving them to hang at your ankles. you kicked them off, but were left sighing as he ceased his touch for a moment.
his cock twitched in your grip, and he let out a loud, rough groan, spurts of cum coming from the tip of his cock. you blushed, watching as he came onto your hand, and his stomach. he’d have to wash his uniform tonight, because it was stained with the pearly ropes.
sweat beaded at his forehead, but he didn’t let the waves of his own pleasure distract from what he wanted most, which was to feel you. you spread your legs, and he sighed at the sight of your glistening cunt.
he ran one finger over your folds, and you clutched at the bedsheets, attempting to ignore how sensitive you already were. his thumb pressed against your clit, and you couldn’t stifle your moan this time, a feeling of warmth shooting across your body. you wanted more, and ground into the feeling of his thumb running circles against the sensitive spot.
‘so wet for me, aren’t you?’ he muttered, his long fingers edging further down your folds.
‘feels so… good,’ you huffed, eyes fluttering shut with bliss. of course you were already lingering on the edge of your own pleasure—he doubted you’d ever even touched yourself before.
he eased a finger into your hole; feeling your slick walls take it in, but only barely. you were so fucking tight, and he watched as you winced a little at the feeling. it only hurt for a second, but you were so wet that you were longing for more.
‘oh please,’ you gasped, feeling him arch his finger while his thumb began to vary its ministrations against your clit.
‘gonna cum for me, bunny?’ he cooed, moving his thumb up and down, watching as your thighs began to tremble.
the heat was unbearable now, and when he added another finger, stretching you out, you felt your whole body begin to tingle with the beginning of your release.
‘mhm!’ you cried out, exasperated from his touch.
you gushed around his fingers, though he continued to rub his thumb against your clit, and arch his fingers inside of you, mesmerised by the wetness coating them. your breath hitched, and you came completely undone, burning and trembling as he made you cum.
he felt his cock harden again at the sight of you coming around his fingers, and as he removed them from your hole, he decided he couldn’t wait any longer.
coriolanus pushed you back into the bed, cock pressing against your thighs. your head swam with the excess of your desire, but you surrendered yourself to him, longing to feel him buried deep inside of you.
he guided just the tip towards your hole, and ran it teasingly through the soaking folds of your cunt. you mewled, and clutched at his back in an attempt to get him to push into you. deciding he was greedy, he pressed the tip into you, and you let out a shocked groan.
it hurt—he was big, but you hadn’t expected it to make you tingle so much. you bit back a few tears, and let him put the rest of the tip in. you were so tight, he couldn’t believe it. if you’d felt tight around his fingers, this was a whole new sensation. you were clenching around his cock, and he had barely so much as the head of it inside you.
‘too big,’ you gasped, feeling him ease his cock further in. it stung a little, the stretch slightly unpleasant. but you wanted him so bad. ‘it hurts!’
‘poor bunny,’ he mused, stroking your cheek. ‘you gotta learn to take it, like a good girl. i know you want it, bunny.’
you did, you wanted it so bad. even though it hurt, you felt your stomach knot tightly as it did when he’d rubbed your clit. he began to buck his hips, grunting at the tightness of your cunt. your walls stretched around his big cock, taking him in as best they could, slick with want and need.
‘fuck, you’re so fucking tight,’ he groaned as thrust inside of you.
more tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks. he watched as you tried to fight off the feelings of pain, surrendering yourself to the pleasant feeling of fullness and his throbbing cock inside of you. he wanted nothing more than to pound into you, make you scream his name as he filled you up, but you were too delicate. he’d have to wait until you were ready, and you were special, anyways. a pretty doll just for him.
‘oh,’ you gasped as he fucked himself deeper, reaching a new angle inside of you.
the sound of your slick mingling with the slapping of his balls echoed against the walls of your room, and you clutched at his back. your desire began to brim again, edging its way up your thighs and deep into the pit of your stomach. coriolanus could hardly contain himself, you fit around him so perfectly, slick walls coating his cock as he thrust in and out.
‘fuck bunny, i don’t know how much more i can take,’ he admitted haggardly. he attempted to control his urges, but you were just so tight. what was stopping him from coming in you right then and there?
‘need you,’ you mumbled as he rutted against your hips, thrusts growing more desperate.
he moved one hand down to rub at your overstimulated clit, fingers deftly helping to unfurl the ache inside of you. you sputtered at the sensation, head spinning as he fucked you into the mattress.
he was so close, the clenching of your walls sending the blood straight to his head. he let out a final grunt, and slowed his thrusts, and felt himself come undone. he ground his cock into you, letting the thick spurts of his cum coat your walls. he came a lot, more than he’d ever done before, balls draining with what felt like every last drop.
he still continued to fuck up into you, wanting you to finish around him before he pulled out. your legs began to tremble, the feeling of his cum too much to handle, and you let out a sweet cry.
‘so good,’ you pressed your lips together, coming undone around his dock.
coriolanus pulled out, cock coated in a milky ring of your spend, his tip still red and angry from use. your body tingled, and you felt his cum trickling down between your legs. he couldn’t believe how pretty you looked, all fucked out for him, drunk on his cock.
he’d turned such a pretty innocent thing into a stupid whore, who could barely form a sentence without sighing from the excess of her pleasure.
he wondered how long he’d have to wait to go another round, and whether or not you’d let him. but you’d been so good to him that night, doing exactly what he told you and coming for him not once, but twice.
‘such a good girl for me, bunny,’ he mused, stroking your thigh. ‘and so innocent.’
#coriolanus snow#tom blyth#coriolanus snow x reader#tbosbas#hunger games#smut#coryo x reader#the hunger games#fanfic#tbosbas fanfic#tbosbas smut#the hunger games smut#the hunger games x reader#x reader#female x reader#tom blyth x reader#drabble#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus snow smut#tbosbas x reader
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Why Vox needs to GET THE FUCK OVER THE RADIO DEMON:
(By Velvette, the only competent of the Vees)
(Her list for Valentino here)
1. He’s just not into you
2. We have better things to do than allocate company time to this.
3. He makes you look stupid
4a. He makes US look stupid (and Valentino already does that enough)
4b. Seriously how are we supposed to stop your boy toy from chasing whore around town when you can’t do the same with your ex? We need to set a (gag) good example for him.
5. What do you even see in him? Tacky coat. And that voice is so old-school.
6. You have two people who (reluctantly) want to work with you. Why spend energy on a guy who doesn’t?
7. This was seven years ago babe. Give it up.
8. I’m tired of finding your Alastor Body Pillow around the penthouse
9. Speaking of the body pillow, did you really have to spend 5k on it?
10. Company money should be used for COMPANY things. The fact we even have an “Alastor” budget is stupid. HE DOESNT EVEN GO HERE. ( @onesidedradiostatic )
11. He fucked off once, he probably will again.
12. Do you really want to fuck with someone who has the princess and king of Hell on his side?
13. It makes Valentino insecure about his sexual prowess, which is not good for anyone.
14. I have to LISTEN to him complain about it.
15. No matter how hard you try, nobody will ever beat “Susan” for #1 rival in that man’s heart. (Which is valid cause Susan SUCKS.)
16. Also you’re wasting company time by having Val put together shitty-Alastor look alike porns? Angel Dust does NOT look like Radio Demon ffs, I though Val was the blind one not you.
17. Your screens keep crapping out whenever you think about him, and we’re running out of ones in storage.
18a. I don’t want to keep having to go to overlord meetings for you because you’re having a breakdown over of he’ll be there or not.
18b. Speaking of breakdowns, STOP MAKING THE WHOLE CITY LOSE POWER.
19. You’ve taken over the entire office space with your Alastor-shrine. It’s not really an inconvenience, just creepy.
20a. Not to kinkshame but I walked in on you and Val fucking with Alastor-wigs on, REALLY?!
20b. Also I think you’re making Val insecure about his lack of hair.
21. STOP asking me to design Alastor-cosplay clothes for you. I don’t want anything to do with this.
22. I already have to deal with one pissbaby
23. Seriously, he isn’t into you. Maybe it’s cause you’re a mess. Maybe it’s cause he’s AROACE. Who knows.
24. You keep interrupting channels to brainwash people into hating the Radio Demon, when we should be brainwashing them into other things.
25. We can all hear you talking to yourself in the shower when trying to come up with shitty comebacks.
26. You display your dreams when you sleep, and while it was funny at first at this point it’s so boring. Val and I want to watch something actually interesting for once rather than the same shit.
27. You keep glitching out in bisexual whenever he comes up and it’s annoying waiting for you to put your shit back together again.
28. I’m sick of movie nights where we just watch your self-made compilations of “Alastor’s Epic Fails” or just watch security footage of him at the hotel.
29. Why do you even try and film him? Your shitty cameras can pick hardly anything up.
30. Honestly this whole thing is just pathetic.
31. Like it used to be cute but now?
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Jazz is Special Agent Fenton of the FBI. She doesn’t go by Fenton when she’s out on a case though; she uses Nightingale. She does this because it keeps her identity secret.
Jazz is investigating a series of crimes. One of the other agents goes undercover to try and set them up in a sting operation. Things go south and now Jazz is going to Gotham to view the murder scene.
When she gets there, GCPD try to stop her at the crime scene barrier. She flashes her FBI jacket and her badge and is given access. She walks over to the police commissioner, a man named Gordon. Gordon obviously doesn’t recognize her, and neither does the vigilante with him—Batman.
“This is a closed crime scene, Miss…?” Gordon asks.
“Nightingale. FBI.” She shows Gordon her badge. “You and your men can clear out. This is our jurisdiction now.”
“We haven’t gotten approval to—“ Gordon stops, but was interrupted by an officer walking over to Gordon and whispering something in his ear. “Fine.” Gordon grumbled, and started telling his men to leave.
“You too, Spooky. I don’t need a vigilante’s help.” She waves off the man without another thought, but Batman doesn’t move. Instead, he completely ignores her and starts walking towards the crime scene. “Obviously, you didn’t hear me.” Jazz scowled. “If you don’t leave, I will remove you with force, Batman.”
Batman turns to look at her. “That isn’t how things work here, Agent Nightingale.”
“It is now.” She kept her expression neutral. “Clear out, or be removed. Your choice.”
Batman tried to look intimidating. Jazz refused to bow. The two stared each other down before Batman took another step towards the crime scene. She reacted instantly. Pulling out a taser, she placed it on his back before he could even react.
He reacted quickly, and sent three batarangs at her in rapid succession. His movements were a bit slower than normal after getting tased. She dodged two of the batarangs, and opted to catch the third in her hand. She flicked it away lazily and cracked her knuckles with a small smile. “I love it when they choose force.”
Batman didn’t react to her comment. He seemed to understand he wasn’t going to be able to get around her without a major fight. He let out an annoyed grunt and grappled away.
Three days later, they meet on the roof of an abandoned building. It seems like Batman was still on the case after all. Jazz was not happy about it. She felt that he was going to ruin the entire operation. She couldn’t trust someone to have her back if they didn’t show their face. She doesn’t let the annoyance show on her face as Batman joins her at the edge of the rooftop.
“I thought I told you to stay off my case, Batman.” She said quietly.
Batman gave a quiet grunt. If she had to put it to words, it would translate to a ‘I do what I want.’
She didn’t speak to him again, but she didn’t kick him out, either. The two didn’t speak a word as they sat for two hours, inspecting the warehouse across the street. It was nearly morning by the time Batman left. She did make sure he left, too—she watched him grapple down the street and heard the roar of the Batmobile pulling away before she breathed out a sigh of relief.
Watching the building was doing nothing. She was going to have to get closer. She was going to have to go undercover herself. The thought didn’t make her any happier, even with knowing what happened to the last agent that went undercover for this operation. She also knew that to keep her tracker on her at all times, she would need to shove it inside a place that nobody would look for it. And boy was that uncomfortable.
Two days after she met Batman did she meet Brucie Wayne for the first time. By now she had been undercover with the modeling agency for a day, and it was going well so far. She was playing her part perfectly, but it could take weeks for them to trust her enough to give her information that she needed to know.
She had been hired to be arm candy for a wealthy man in Gotham. It wasn’t Brucie, though she knew he had a few models on his arms as well. She had gotten through most of the night without incident before she ran into Brucie. Quite literally. Brucie’s champagne spilled down her dress, and she gave a mock scream of outrage.
Brucie tried to clean up her dress, but she swatted his hands away and went to the bathroom to clean up. She never noticed the tracker that Bruce put on the nape of her neck. When she came back out, she noticed her date looking for her. She rejoined him and the rest of the night went smoothly.
A month into the operation and she finally was getting some results. She had been moved from building to building more than once, but she finally got breadcrumbs for what she needed to take them down. It took her another three weeks after that to gather all of the evidence she needed.
At the final takedown, she was joined by none other than Batman. She had half-expected him to show up after she noticed the tracker on her neck six hours after it was placed. She didn’t know when she had even run into the Batman at a stuffy charity gala. She had debated crushing it, but she didn’t have backup and she figured his help was better than nothing. She still didn’t trust him, though. She made sure he knew that, too.
Bringing the tracker up to her lips, she whispered, “Don’t you know it’s rude to listen in on a lady, Batman?”
Together, she and Batman took down the traffickers. They had been using models and trafficking them all over the world to be used as sex slaves. She feels a certain satisfaction while watching everyone be escorted out in cuffs.
“Nice work.” Batman says, figure tall and dark.
She hums. “Thanks.” The silence stretches on for a few minutes before she adds in, “Thanks for having my back.”
“I thought you didn’t need a vigilante’s help?” Batman teased.
She didn’t look at him, but she could hear the teasing on his voice. She smirks and crosses her arms. “I don’t. But you’re harder to get rid of than a ghost in a net.”
Batman didn’t respond back to her, and it takes her a few moments to realize what she had said. She was of course, referencing her parents ghosthunting activities. But he didn’t even know her real name, so how would he even know what he was talking about?
“When do you leave?” Batman asked.
“After everything’s wrapped up. Why, you going to miss me?” She finally turned to look at him. She wished she could run facial recognition and figure out who was under that mask. The psychologist in her wanted to know just why a man would put on a bat mask and fight crime.
“I have a case that could use your input.” Batman deflected her question.
Was that a compliment from the Batman? His way of telling her that he trusted her opinion? Or was it an olive branch?
“Mine or the FBI’s?” She already knew the answer to his question, but she wanted him to say it.
Instead, he just grunted in annoyance. She rolled her eyes and pulled a card out of the pouch that she kept her FBI id at and handed it to him. “That’s my office phone number.” She tapped the card with her finger as he held it. “If you want my personal cell, you’ve got to earn it.”
He nodded and tucked the card into his utility belt. She could see the beginnings of a smile from Batman as he disappeared into the shadows and grappled away.
Surprisingly, it only took Batman a week to call her. She had gotten settled back into her office in DC, and had mostly forgotten about the encounter. She had to report Batman’s appearance in her report, but beyond that, she didn’t have to explain that he helped her take down the ring.
She made a flight back to Gotham the next day. Batman brought her into the Batcave and told her everything she needed to know about the case. She didn’t know where the Batcave was, as Batman had blindfolded her, but she was impressed with his initiative.
“Im not wearing that.” She glared at him with all of the venom she had—which was quite a lot.
“You can’t go out in your FBI jacket.” Batman deadpanned.
“Wasn’t planning on it. Do you think I’m a rookie?” She shook her head and gestured at the costume that the vigilante had made for her. “That doesn’t give you the right to—to—ugh! Im not your Batgirl, or Batwoman, or whatever! I came out as a consult. I don’t dress up in latex, and I don’t wear costumes!”
The costume itself was gorgeous, not that she’d ever tell Batman that. It was solid black, had a red bat on the front of it, and was fully equipped with a utility belt, knife holsters, and a taser. It had a full cowl like Batmans, along with the pointy ears on top.
“I don’t see the problem.” Batman’s voice had undertones of offense in it.
“Look.” She gestured at the costume. “Im honored, truly, that you want me to watch your back. But I’m not a vigilante. Nor will I ever be!”
She had watched what vigilantism had done to Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Valerie over the years. Sure, she’d gone out with them more than once. Without a mask. But there was something more complex about the costume sitting on the table in front of her.
“You said you were going to help.” Batman’s gruff voice got closer as he took a few steps towards her.
“And I did.” She gestured to the Batcomputer. “I already gave you my opinions of the case. I dedicated a weekend of PTO time to be here. But this is as far as my help goes.”
“What about the last operation? You owe me.”
“Owe you?!” She exclaimed, thumping her finger against his chest. “I told you to get lost. You still stuck around. You could’ve cost me the operation!”
“It worked.”
She groaned in frustration. She was close enough to him now that she could smell the faint smell of Kevlar and aftershave from him. She rubbed a hand down her face as she thought over what had happened last time she was in Gotham.
“What about all your other winged vigilantes? You had uh.. Nightwing, and Robin, right?”
“It’s only Nightwing.” Batman responded. “He’s unavailable.”
“I could’ve sworn you had a Robin, too.” She looked up at him and noticed the stiffness of his body.
“Robin has moved on.” Batman replied.
Hmm. Touchy subject. She wasn’t going to push. It wasn’t any of her buisness.
“You must be really desperate if you’re trying this hard to get me to go out in that.” She smirked.
“Things could go wrong.” Batman said with a quiet sigh.
“Don’t they always?” She tilted her head.
“Not always.” Batman mimicked her actions, clearly studying her. “What will it take?”
“If I put that mask on,” She gestured to the table behind her, “You take yours off.”
“No.”
“Fine. Deals off, then.” She pulled her phone out and immediately started looking for flights back to DC.
“Why?” He questioned.
“I can’t trust someone who won’t tell me who they are.” She shrugged.
Batman let out a quiet growl. As he took his cowl off, he scowled. “You would know, wouldn’t you, Miss Fenton?”
“Holy shit.” Her eyes got wide.
Bruce Wayne was the Batman.
#dp x dc au#dp x dc writing prompt#dp x dc#dp x dc fanfic#dp x dc prompt#dp dc crossover#danny phantom crossover#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom#dp crossover#dpxdc prompts#dpxdc#dcxdp#special agent jazz Fenton#jazz x Bruce#smart jazz Fenton#jazz is a fbi agent#jazz is Batwoman
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