#I thought the question ‘who’s your favorite artist?��� was bad this is actually ten times worse
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valewritessss · 3 months ago
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My friend just made me download Airbuds how do I explain me listening to the entire Hamilton track
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mattnben-bennmatt · 5 months ago
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Matt Damon (& Co.)'s interview w/ GQ (18 July 2016)
The Encyclopedia of Matt Damon
As Matt Damon returns to the Bourne franchise, we decided to assemble this handy guide to the habits, quirks, and inner life of an honest-to-God screen legend, as told by George Clooney, Martin Scorsese, Ben Affleck, and the other titans who know him best
By The Editors of GQ | Photography by Sebastian Kim | Illustration by Joe Mckendry
Matt Damon is, scientifically, the most liked man in Hollywood. He is serious, and he is funny. He is approachable-seeming and often jacked. He has been in six of your ten favorite movies in the past 20 years, and he's met a bunch of people along the way who like him a whole lot. But for all his familiarity, he's still elusive (which is how he likes it). So instead of asking Matt Damon dumb questions about the new Jason Bourne movie (out this month!), we got Damon and those people who like him a lot*—George Clooney, Julia Roberts, Tina Fey, Ben Affleck, Martin Scorsese, and Co.—to tell all the stories about him that you haven't heard.
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Accent, Boston
Matt Damon: I was sitting at George Clooney's pool in Lake Como, and Brad Pitt walked in, sat down next to me, and said, “Do you want to do a Martin Scorsese movie in Boston?” [Brad] was a producer on The Departed, and he felt like he had gotten too old for those roles. It's one of the most absurd things that's ever happened in my life.
[Marty] said to me early on [in production], “I don't know Boston. This is your town.” So I would show up with stuff that I'd write and give it to Bill [Monahan, the screenwriter]. and say, "Do you like any of this?" The first time I rehearsed with Jack Nicholson, he went over to get some coffee, and he turned around [and said], “You know, I never would have made it this long if I wasn’t a great fucking writer.”
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Martin Scorsese (director, ‘The Departed’): He comes from Boston; he's familiar with that world. When we were cutting The Departed, my editor, Thelma Schoonmaker, used a term to describe Matt's presence on-screen that's stayed with me: He's seated as an actor. He enters a movie grounded and at ease in his character and in the world of the story.
Bill Simmons (Bostonian; host, ‘Any Given Wednesday’): [Jimmy Kimmel] had this Super Bowl party, and Damon was there. He was like, “I'm readin' ya book! It's fahckin' ahsome.” [Matt's Good Will Hunting accent] is the greatest Boston accent that's ever been captured in a movie by an actual actor. The Departed is a catastrophe of bad Boston accents. Leo just gives up halfway through.
Sarah Silverman (co-star, “I'm Fucking Matt Damon”): We are all Boston-area people. I don't know how Matt talks so pretty.
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Artist, The
Julia Stiles (co-star, ‘Bourne’ films): After The Bourne Ultimatum came out, there was a premiere in London. Prince actually came to it, then got tickets for the cast to come see him [perform]. We were summoned into a room to meet him [after the show]. Matt said, “So you live in Minnesota? I hear you live in Minnesota.”
Damon: Prince said, “I live inside my own heart, Matt Damon.”
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Career Precedent
Damon: I always thought the goal was William Holden. To just be in a lot of good movies.
Harvey Weinstein (producer, ‘Good Will Hunting,’ ‘Dogma,’ ‘All the Pretty Horses,’ ‘The Talented Mr. Ripley,’ ‘Rounders,’ ‘Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back,’ ‘Project Greenlight,’ ‘The Brothers Grimm’): Matt Damon is the closest thing we have to James Stewart. Matt can be funny, Matt can be charming, but there's an idealism in Matt, like Mr. Smith Goes to Washington or It's a Wonderful Life. But Jimmy Stewart also did those very tough Westerns. He wasn't Bourne, but you get the idea he flew 40 missions over Germany as an Air Force commander. [He's] that kind of great man with tremendous integrity.
Michael Douglas (co-star, ‘Behind the Candelabra’): [Matt] reminds me of me a lot, in terms of the kind of range of parts and things that he does. He always looks to what's the best script, what's going to make the best movie, and what isn't. He has a real sense of what it takes to make a good movie. Having the best part in a bad movie doesn't help you.
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Face, Matt's
Scarlett Johansson (co-star, ‘We Bought a Zoo’): The most amazing gift about Matt's physical appearance is that he can walk into the hair-and-makeup trailer looking like someone who slept directly on his face for seven hours and emerge a bona fide movie star. He has a great makeup artist.
George Clooney (co-star, ‘Ocean’s Eleven,’ ‘Twelve,’ and ‘Thirteen’; director, ‘Syriana,’ ‘Confessions of a Dangerous Mind,’ ‘The Monuments Men’): He looks swell in a Speedo.
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Face, Pitt's
Damon: I don't look like Marlon Brando. I remember Ben and I having a realization early on. Like, we were watching Brad [Pitt] in a movie, and one of us turned to the other and said, “I haven't heard a thing that guy said in five minutes. I'm just looking at him.” And we realized there's a good and a bad [that comes with that]. It'll mask one of your lesser performances, but it also detracts from your best performances. Because Brad has been legitimately brilliant in some of the things he's done, and he doesn't get the credit as an actor that I think he deserves. I never had to carry that water.
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Friend, Best
Tina Fey (creator, ‘30 Rock’): People would be like, “[Matt and Ben] are so cute!” And I'd be like, “They're J.Crew sweaters. When you see all the colors next to each other, they look cute, but when you get one home, you're like, ‘Damn, I just got an orange sweater.’ ” But now that is withdrawn. In person, Matt holds up.
Damon: Ben is the orange sweater.
Ben Affleck (co-writer, ‘Good Will Hunting’; best friend): The quality that has allowed Matt to maintain the illusion that he is Mr. Nice Guy is that he found a young TV actor who was just a pretty face and made friends with him so he would always look good by comparison. Matt is very media-savvy and manipulative in that way. He's like a mix of [O. J. Simpson defense-team members] Bob Shapiro and Alan Dershowitz.
Kevin Smith (writer and director, ‘Dogma,’ ‘Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back’; co-executive producer, ‘Good Will Hunting’): Matt made pretty thoughtful choices about what roles he wanted to play and the directors he wanted to work with after Good Will Hunting, which made Ben's more commercial choices easier to put down for some folks. The assignation was that Matt chose to be a serious actor in films, while Ben chose to star in movies. That script flipped when Matt was Bourne and Ben became a filmmaker.
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Friend, Brother of Best
Damon: Casey moved in with us [when he was 19]. He would walk in the room, and I'm like, “Is that my shirt?” It got so bad with the Affleck brothers that I was at the point where I wanted to label all of my stuff, 'cause it would just fucking show up in Casey's drawer. And if it's there long enough, then it's like some version of squatters' rights, where suddenly he's like, “No, dude, this is mine. You saw me. I've been wearing this since December.” Like, that doesn't mean it's yours! Just because you washed it doesn't mean it's yours.
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Good Will
Billy Bob Thornton (director, ‘All the Pretty Horses’): I did Armageddon with Ben, and I knew 'em before they made Good Will Hunting. They talked to me about it: “Hey, we got this script.” And I'm like, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Wish I hadn't have said that.
Steven Soderbergh (director, ‘The Informant!’; ‘Ocean's Eleven,’ ‘Twelve,’ and ‘Thirteen’; ‘Contagion’; ‘Behind the Candelabra’): I was looking for rewrite work, and one of the open assignments was for Good Will Hunting. I said, “What's it about?” And they said, “Math.” And I said, “Well, I'm terrible at math, so I'm the wrong guy.” Let's put it this way: Word was out on Reservoir Dogs at the script stage—I remember hearing, “There's this fucking great script out there written by this guy.” There wasn't that kind of thing about [Good Will Hunting].
Damon: Harvey [Weinstein] hadn't seen it—somebody lower down the ladder [at Miramax] had passed. And we were fucked. We had made a deal with Castle Rock where we had to sell it for a million dollars and whoever we sold it to had to allow us to star in it. If we didn't, it was gonna go back to Castle Rock and we were out of the movie. We asked [Kevin Smith] to direct it, and Kevin wouldn't. He goes, “I'm not a good enough director.”
Smith: I asked Ben to FedEx a copy of the script and hit it in the bathroom, intending to read a few pages while on the bowl. Two hours later, I came out of the bathroom crying [because] it was so good. [Co-executive producer] Scott Mosier said, “You were in the bathroom for two hours, and now you're crying. Should I call an ambulance?” I said, “No. We gotta call Harvey.” And we gave it to Harvey and said, “Remember when you picked up the Pulp Fiction script from TriStar in turnaround? This is like that. Especially the Oscars part.”
Weinstein: Kevin Smith gave it to Jon Gordon in my office. Jon Gordon gave it to me. I loved it.
Damon: Every Oscar weekend, the three big agencies host parties. In 1998, [the year we won an Oscar for Good Will Hunting], the CAA party was given in our name. Like, “Ben Affleck and Matt Damon invite you to the CAA party.” We called it “our party.” It was incredible. I talked to Tom Cruise. Even a movie like Cocktail, which the critics didn't particularly dig, was a hit. An agent said to me, “There's no career that's ever been like this. Everyone has ups and downs. This guy's never had a down.” He was the movie star's movie star. And I remember the way he talked about the business: He was not owed anything or could count on anything. And I was like, “Oh, my God. It's an insecure business for Tom Cruise!”
Simmons: I was dating this girl who moved to Chicago, and I was living in Boston. I was making, like, $200 a week writing a column and bartending, and it cost somewhere between $300 and $450 to fly to Chicago. So I went to see Good Will Hunting in Cambridge by myself. And at the end, he goes to see about a girl, and I was like, “You know what? I like her, but I don't know if I'd go to see about a girl.” We broke up within 12 hours. And my next girlfriend was my wife. That's why I always defend Matt Damon.
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Grimm, Brothers
Brian Koppelman (co-writer, ‘Rounders,’ ‘Ocean's Thirteen’): The nose [in Ocean's Thirteen] originated because we had heard this rumor that Matt had wanted to wear a weird nose in Brothers Grimm. He wasn't able to, so we decided we were going to give him an even bigger, uglier nose.
Terry Gilliam (director, ‘The Brothers Grimm,’ ‘The Zero Theorem’): He's got that cute little retroussé nose and a big bony head, and I thought his head needed something stronger. So we put the bump on, and he suddenly became like Marlon Brando—he was sexy, he walked different. And then we had a huge fight with the Weinsteins and they threatened to close the movie down if I put that bump on his nose.
Weinstein: Oh, my God. Matt and Heath Ledger, may he rest in peace, just on bended knees said, “Can you finance this movie?” And my brother said, “It's Terry Gilliam—let's just do it.”
Damon: I remember the night that Terry shattered a wineglass in his hand because he was in an argument with one of the producers. He said, “I'm not gonna fucking…,” and snapped the wineglass in his hand, and then went storming out. And Heath [Ledger] and I just immediately got up to follow our fearless leader. Terry goes, “I think that went well! Where are we going for dinner?”
He was deciding whether to refuse to shoot over the nose issue. And he came into the makeup room at five in the morning and said, “They gave me the money that I need to make the movie, but we have to not do the nose. What do you think?” And Chrissie Beveridge, who still does my makeup, pulled out the nose and put it on the table. And we literally looked at it and just started laughing.
Chrissie Beveridge (makeup artist): Terry [said], “Would you talk to Bob Weinstein?” I didn't.
Damon: It was a $3 million nose.
Weinstein: Ironically, it's Terry Gilliam's highest-grossing movie he ever had in the United States. [Editors' note: Actually, ‘12 Monkeys’ is.]
Soderbergh: So on [Ocean's Thirteen], I was like, “Dude, we can do it. Like, we can give you the nose.”
Damon: And in Invictus, I ended up wearing the actual [Brothers Grimm] nose.
Beveridge: It was a slightly different nose.
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Ledger, Heath
Gilliam: Matt is mathematical at times, and that's both a strength and sometimes… I think that's what it maybe was between him and Heath. Because [Heath's] heart was on his sleeve, and that opened up a lot in Matt.
Damon: He was too bright for this world. Coming off [The Brothers Grimm, I was] telling everybody that I just worked with the best actor I've ever seen. And people were like, “What are you talking about? The guy from A Knight's Tale?” And I was like, “You just wait. And wait until you see what kind of a director he's gonna be.”
There were things that he did where I couldn't have got there in three lifetimes. And there were ways in which he was like a puppy dog. You wanted to protect him.
[His death was] just fucking pointless. I called Terry when I found out, and he was like, “I'm sitting here in Vancouver. I'm looking out the window, and it's a beautiful sunny day, and the lights are turning red, and the lights are turning green, and cars are stopping, and cars are driving. I am surrounded by mediocrity. And he's gone.”
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Maaaaaatt Daaaaamon
Damon: The most common head shot that I'm asked to sign is pictures of that fucking puppet [from Team America: World Police]. And they always say, “Will you write ‘Maaaaaatt Daaaaamon’?” I'm like, “Okay. Matt, with, like, 16 *a'*s in it.” [Trey Parker and Matt Stone] are legitimate geniuses. But when that came out, I thought, Wow, is that what people think of me? That I'm really dumb? So I remember asking friends of mine, and they all told me that it didn't really make sense that I was dumb. I was like, “Are you just saying that?” And then [my wife] Lucy heard an interview with [Matt and Trey] where they said the puppet showed up the day before they were supposed to shoot with it, and it looked like it had special needs, and they didn't have time to change it with the budget. I don't know if they made that up subsequently.
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“Matt Damon, I'm F#©%ing”
In 2008, Sarah Silverman and Damon starred in a music video called “I'm Fucking Matt Damon” to “inform” Silverman's then boyfriend, Jimmy Kimmel, that she was “sleeping with” Damon.
Jimmy Kimmel (host, ‘Jimmy Kimmel Live!’; nemesis): [The video “I'm Fucking Matt Damon”] was supposed to be a present for my 40th birthday. Just to make sure the punch in the stomach hit a kidney.
Silverman: [When the show premiered,] Jimmy was literally getting guests like the man with the longest arm hair. So as a joke, he would say at the end of the night, “Sorry, Matt Damon. We ran out of time,” because Matt Damon was the biggest movie star he could think of.
Damon: We had done The Bourne Ultimatum [spoof] with [Kimmel sidekick] Guillermo [as Jason Bourne]. Like, now Jimmy's kicking me out of my own movies? And we all were just like, “How do we keep this thing alive?” And the guy who directed that called with this idea that Sarah had given him.
Silverman: Matt came in, learned the song in a closet of the hotel we had, and then we had three hours with him to shoot because he had his daughter's Halloween pageant at noon.
Damon: It happened really fast, and then suddenly I was in the car. I was like, “Holy fuck, I'm going to a parent-teacher conference. I can't do shit like this anymore.”
Ben Affleck: As soon as I saw “I'm Fucking Matt Damon,” I knew I would be doing “I'm Fucking Ben Affleck.” So I called Jimmy, and they were already putting it together. Having Josh Groban yelling out, “I'm fucking Beeeeen. I'm fucking Ben Affleck!” remains a high point of my career and life.
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Mojo
Soderbergh: When [Matt] hit us on the Ocean's set, he said, “I really feel like I've kind of lost my mojo.” He'd just come off a couple movies that didn't work commercially [All the Pretty Horses and The Legend of Bagger Vance], and they were not finished with Bourne—they were gonna go back and reshoot more after we wrapped. And I remember George [Clooney] and I saying, “We can do that with this. You're going to have a blast.”
Damon: I showed up like a drowned rat and just stumbled into the room [with Steven] and George. Steven says, “This is the movie where you're gonna get your mojo back.” And they had a big party because it was the “We have arrived in Chicago” party. They rented out a bar with the whole crew. And then we shot the next day, and then they rented out a bar and had a huge “We're leaving Chicago” party. And I'm like, “Wow, maybe I am gonna get my mojo back on this shoot.”
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Parenting, Matt's
Fey: Some people are lying when they say they want to go be with their families, but I think Matt actually really does like his family—his lovely wife and his 26 daughters.
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Parenting, Matt's Mother's
Soderbergh: One of the first thoughts I had when I met Matt was, Okay. This guy was very well raised. I don't mean that in a pejorative sense. I was just like, “He's a good kid.” Like, “They raised a good kid.” Which is what you would want anybody to say about your child.
Julia Roberts (co-star, ‘Ocean's Eleven’ and ‘Twelve’): Matty's a good boy.
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Pilot, Carol the
In 2010, Damon began a four-episode guest arc on the NBC sitcom ‘30 Rock’ as Liz Lemon's boyfriend, pilot Carol Burnett.
Damon: Lucy and I started watching on the first episode and were like, “This is our favorite thing.” I literally went up to [Tina Fey] at the SAG Awards and said, “Look, your show is so great, and if you ever have anything on it, I would love to do a guest spot.”
Fey: [Matt] was like, “I wanna be on the show! I wanna be on the show!” We immediately flew back the next day and called WME, and the agent was like, “He's not doing this!” And we're like, “No, no, he told us he wanted to do it.” And you could tell his agent was like, “Faaaaaaahhhhhhck. He's too good for this!”
Damon: Yeah, that was one that Patrick was like, “What the fuck? What are you doing?”
Patrick Whitesell (Matt's agent): I wasn't opposed to Matt doing it. I thought it would be a fun thing. The only thing was I wanted it limited in the number of episodes.
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Scheduling Conflict
Douglas: [When I first heard about Behind the Candelabra,] I was recovering from a Stage IV cancer bout and was so unbelievably fortunate to look at this Richard LaGravenese script and go, “My God.” And Soderbergh's involved, and then Matt, who wanted to do the other part. And then when we were getting ready to go do it, both of them—both Steven and Matt individually—said, “You know, we've got conflicting schedules right now. So let's put this off for a year.” And my heart sunk. I thought, Oh shit, it ain't ever going to happen. The truth be told, I was so happy to be alive that I didn't recognize the fact of just how underweight I was. And I think both of them looked at me and said, “He's not ready to do Liberace.” And rather than in any way make me feel like it was a problem, they simply lied and said, “We have other projects,” and waited a year, until I got back on my feet and my strength was there.
Damon: I'll take it, but I did have a scheduling conflict. I think that Steven certainly knew that more time on the mend would not hurt at all. They replaced Michael from the neck down with a concert pianist, but Michael's arms had to be at the right place at all times or it didn't work. The amount of hours [that took], I don't even know. It was this virtuoso performance. And he said to me the last night [of shooting], “I couldn't have done this last year.”
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Sweating
Koppelman: We write [Rounders] on spec, and Harvey Weinstein buys it. Then we get a call that he wants to show us ten minutes of this film [Good Will Hunting] with this guy Matt Damon, who [they thought] should star in [our movie]. We immediately love the idea.
So we happened to be down at [the L.A. casino] Hollywood Park, and we started talking to these guys and mentioned that we'd written this poker movie. They go, “Matt Damon's our best friend.” And I said, “Oh, really? Matt Damon's your best friend?” Twenty-five minutes later, Matt and Ben come storming in. Neither guy had played casino poker. Matt was immediately like, “Tell me stuff I need to know.” So we got a table and [co-writer] David [Levien] showed Matt how to riffle chips. Within 10, 15 minutes, he's sitting at the table riffling like he's an old pro.
David Levien (co-writer, ‘Rounders,’ ‘Ocean's Thirteen’): He took poker very, very seriously then, and obviously Ben got bit by the bug. We said, “If you really want to learn about this, come to New York.”
Damon: I started getting in and sweating the games, which means sitting behind a player who agrees to show you their hole cards so you can watch how they play the hand. And these were rounders, the people who were making basically ten bucks an hour sitting there with no health benefits, just hoping that somebody new would come in so they could chop him up.
Edward Norton (co-star, ‘Rounders’): Matt and I got coaching from top poker pros, but also from some guys in the underground poker scene who were experts in working a game as partners with coded signals, because that was something our characters did in the film. We decided we'd see if we could actually pull it off in a game, and we cut it apart. Then we walked down Sixth Avenue a few blocks and chopped up our collective winnings. We agreed that our commitment to the craft of acting justifiably forced our ethical standards into the backseat. And most of the money we clipped came off Harvey and Bob Weinstein, so we agreed that was good for humanity.
Alicia Vikander (co-star, ‘Jason Bourne’): We were shooting [Jason Bourne] in Vegas, and I learned to play craps [the night we wrapped]. I asked Matt [for advice] because of course he and Ben are kind of known for that. I said that I was going to bed, and then I said that I was just going to have one drink. It happened to be quite a few.
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Sweating (More)
Damon: I've sweat some great directors for the last 20 years. When Ben was doing Gone Girl, I went over and visited the set and sat behind David [Fincher] while he was directing. There was a scene where Ben and Rosamund [Pike] walk into a bookstore and end up coming towards the camera through one of the aisles and kissing each other. So before the door opens and they come in, an extra walks by at the end of the line of books. David instantly starts monologuing: “Who fucking walks like that? Are you fucking… Am I wrong? Like, who fucking walks like that? It's ridiculous. I mean, he fucking looks like an extra in a movie. What the fuck?” Meanwhile, Ben and Rosamund are acting their hearts out, and I know they're gonna go again, no matter what they do, because this person fucking blew it. So David goes over and gives them notes, and they get ready to do it again, and Rosamund's makeup artist comes walking in to touch her up. David's looking at his monitor, and he goes, “Now, that's how you walk.”
Joshua Donen (David Fincher's manager): David denies that this ever took place, but out of respect for the talents of Mr. Damon, he has decided not to take legal action.
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Teeth
Roberts: He does have nice teeth.
Kimmel: I mean, they can't be real, right? They're so perfect. They're obviously something that some Hollywood witch doctor put into his head somewhere along the line, possibly on one of his jaunts to China where he disappears for six months and suddenly has a whole new look. One day he's Jason Bourne. The next day he's Liberace's fiancé.
Damon: True.
Larry Rosenthal, D.D.S., declined to respond to multiple requests for comment.
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Thing, Best I've Ever Been a Part Of
Damon: [The 2000 Cormac McCarthy novel adaptation All the Pretty Horses] failed the critics and failed to find the audience. I'm not over it 18 years later or whatever it is, so I'm just clearly never gonna get over it. It really fucking depresses me. I only saw Billy [Bob Thornton]'s cut once, and I just remember feeling like, “Oh, my God, this is the best thing I've ever been a part of.” It was Daniel Lanois's music that did it—it was all Daniel on this old guitar.
Thornton: The studio made us take Dan's score out.
Weinstein: It's great, but there were studio executives who fell asleep during the screening. The movie cost $48 million. You [ask], “Am I going to put a four-hour movie out?”
Damon: I was in Paris working on The Bourne Identity, and every night after work, I'd come home and I'd have a conference call with Harvey and Billy Bob. I would pace in this living room in this apartment I'd rented as I was talking to them. Billy's heart was fucking breaking. [When] he relented, he said, “Harvey, I have a chance to do four, maybe five great things before I die. And what I'm hearing you say to me is this isn't gonna be one of them.” And my knees literally buckled.
Thornton: You live with it. They did offer us the opportunity to put [my cut] out on DVD with the original music. But Dan felt like, “If my music wasn't good enough for them to put in the movie, then I don't know if I wanna put it in there on the DVD,” so I stood by him. I'm not gonna ever go side against an artist.
Weinstein: I've said to Matt, “I'll put up a million dollars any day of the week to restore it. I don't even care if I get the money back.” And I'm happy to sit down with Matt and Billy and do that. We've tried to resurrect that on a number of occasions, but the composer didn't want to let us do it, and he has strong rights. I understand. But time softens everyone. It's time to re-approach him.
Thornton: I think maybe one of these days I'm gonna just have a party over at my house to show it to 20 or 30 people.
Damon: I would love it if he did.
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Wife, Krasinski's
John Krasinski (co-writer, ‘Promised Land’): The day I met him was the scene in The Adjustment Bureau where he kisses my wife [Emily Blunt] in a very big way. And so when I went up to him, he turned to me, and the first thing he ever said to me was, “Hey, man. I was just totally tonguing your girl.” And I went, “Oh, okay. Cool.” And he saw my face and he just cratered. He said, “Oh, my God. I am so sorry. I am so sorry.”
Damon: A reason to do that movie was to meet those two. They're just the best.
Emily Blunt : I have never played a board game with the Damons. The four of us hang out constantly and drink way too much together. Red wine for the three of us, and John's allergic to red wine, so he has to take down the bottle of white by himself. Which is not an issue.
Damon: That allergy is recent. He used to not be allergic to red wine, so we were perfect dinner companions. Now everything is off.
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Worship
Chris Hemsworth (friend; Norse god): [I was going to be on the cover of GQ, and] I was like, “Shit, what do we do [for the story]?” Matt goes, “You should go bike riding! You can use mine.” So the next morning, I didn't want to bring the writer [into Matt's home because] I didn't want Matt to be uncomfortable. And Matt was like, “No, bring him in!” Matt's cooking pancakes and telling all kinds of interesting stories and quoting all sorts of interesting people. And I was sitting there going, “I just lost myself the cover. I can just see the cover turning into Matt's cover. This is the worst thing I could have done with this thing, introduce the writer to Matt.” I felt like I had a new girlfriend and I had introduced her to my cooler friend or something.
Blunt: It's almost sickening, actually. He's like the most universally loved person I've ever met.
Jessica Chastain (co-star, ‘Interstellar,’ ‘The Martian’): When I was going to go work on The Martian, everyone was going on and on about what a great person he was. You always wonder, like, “Okay, is the reputation accurate?” And with him, it was.
Jeff Schaffer (executive producer, ‘Seinfeld,’ ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’; co-creator, ‘The League’; Harvard classmate): “Great” gets thrown around a lot. Like, if you hate a movie, you go, “It was great!” In L.A., “great” means it's shit. So I have to drop down one to “good.” He's a good man.
Matthew McConaughey (co-star, ‘Interstellar’): I remember a late night in Laurel Canyon after A Time to Kill came out. Matt shared a genuine excitement for the success the film and I were having. He's always been like that, as far as I know—confident and self-assured enough to appreciate a peer's success while still paving his own path.
Krasinski: You look at him and think, Wow. You've maintained staying grounded with a career like this. For people who don't have even half the career of you, if we're not as grounded as you, we're just jackasses.
Paul Greengrass (director, ‘The Bourne Supremacy,’ ‘The Bourne Ultimatum’; director and co-writer, ‘Jason Bourne’): He is a really superb, aggressive, fast driver. Somewhere deep in that soul there must be a Jason Bourne lurking.
Simmons: If you're at a party and somebody's like, “You know who I fucking hate? Matt Damon,” people would be like, “What? Why do you hate Matt Damon? Did he fuck your girlfriend?”
Kimmel: He had sex with my girlfriend and then made a song about it. I think he's more devious than [his character in The Talented Mr. Ripley]. More diabolical. Matt Damon in real life is more of a pure evil.
Soderbergh: You could walk around town with a checkbook offering to pay people a million dollars to say something bad about Matt, feeling secure you'd never have to write a check.
Reported by Zach Baron, Lauren Larson, Anna Peele, Clay Skipper, and Caity Weaver.
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cherrykindness · 4 years ago
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let's make babies |
pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader
summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.
warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪
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"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."
Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.
"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."
The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.
As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.
"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."
Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.
"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.
"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."
It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.
"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."
"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."
"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."
"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."
Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.
The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.
The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.
"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."
"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."
"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."
"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"
Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."
"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."
"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."
"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."
"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."
It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.
"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."
Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.
"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"
"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"
"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.
Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.
She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.
He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.
"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."
The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.
"Are you jealous?"
"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."
"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.
"But I only think about you, I already told you that."
Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.
"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."
The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.
"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"
That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.
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sondepoch · 4 years ago
Text
HC: Married life with the boys!
With one chaotic human and a handful of boys too attractive for their own good, it's always been a simple matter of time before love found its way into the Devildom. And where love blooms, marriage often follows—and nothing will stop these boys from giving their human all the love in the world.
Word Count: 5.9k
*Mild NSFW themes for Beel & Diavolo ;)
Characters: All Brothers + Undateables - Luke
MASTERLIST
Lucifer
It highkey blows everyone’s mind when the two of you get married
Because absolutely nothing changes
Lucifer still reprimands you if you do something ridiculous, he still crosses his arms and frowns when you tease him, he still sends a scowl your way when you mess around with Diavolo - if anything, the two of you are distant, and alarmingly so to everyone who gazes upon the supposedly happy couple
But that’s only because they can’t see what goes down in private
And yes - the grass is greener behind the closed door of Lucifer’s study
It was different when the two of you were simply in a relationship: Lucifer’s pride was always there. He would allow you to have your way with him, touch his hair and kiss him and hold him, but he could only reciprocate so much
But now that you’re married?
If anything, Lucifer’s pride dictates that he now has to be open with you, the single person he trusts more than anyone else in the world
Something that he can only do in private
And honestly - you savor moments when you’re alone with him because of it
For the first time, he is the one to initiate contact. The barrier of pride is broken, and in its place lingers Lucifer’s neverending desire to be wrapped in your arms
It doesn’t matter if you’re smaller than him, you are big spoon
You pamper him, giving him all the forehead kisses and tight hugs and quiet handholding he could ever desire. And in exchange, he finally becomes honest with his emotions - finally casting his pride away so that he can ask you when he wants a hug, when he wants a kiss, when he’s needy for affection and love, and he wants you to give it
It’s reached the point where he only wants to be alone with you, eternally savoring the feeling of your arms around him and pulling him closer - finally vocal about his desires 
But he does feel guilty that he can only do this behind closed doors
So slowly, very slowly, he tries to sacrifice his pride and begin treating you different publicly
It starts small: a more tender voice whenever he addresses you, a secondary “are you sure?” whenever he’s worried that you’re uncomfortable, a ghost of a smile on his lips when you laugh so merrily
But soon, it morphs into small touches: fingers brushing against each other when you walk, a hand on your back when you’re next to each other, standing closer to you than everyone else
Slowly, the people around you become relieved. They start to understand that you are like any married couple, but that Lucifer was simply having a hard time adjusting to the abrupt closeness
And then, on the day when you and his brothers throw him a surprise birthday party, Lucifer is so overwhelmed by love that he kisses you then and there, right in front of everyone, pride be damned
And the process is slow going, but eventually he becomes as open with you in public as he is in private, until the two of you are so close that it seems nothing can ever keep him from holding your hand the way he wants again
Mammon
s m u g
It still blows his mind that you chose him out of everyone, that you chose him to marry and love and spend the rest of your life with
And while he is absolutely dumbfounded by this fact, it won’t stop him from rubbing it everyone else’s face at every chance
“Hey guys, wanna go to this all-inclusive resort next month?” Mammon grins, an uncharacteristically innocent smile on his face. “I’ll pay and all!”
“Oh, yes!” Asmo squeals while Beel’s ears perk up at the word all-inclusive. “I have so many cute outfits that I can’t wait to wear!”
“Oh wait, my bad!” Mammon exclaims dramatically, a silly grin on his face. “Looks like it’s only for married couples. Guess I’ll just take MC then, sorry guys!”
PDA turns up by 10000000%
Man is a touchy demon by default, so in private (now that you’re married) he finally has the courage to quietly cuddle you the way he’s always wanted to
But bring him into public?
Oh boy
You cannot get him to stop touching you. Ever.
There is always a hand on your butt, or two arms around draped around your neck, or a single arm linked with your arm, but no matter what, Mammon makes sure that you guys are touching and that you are intimate
The only time you’re in public and he might not actively touch you is if you’re the one touching him - and holy hell, when you do, this demon melts in your hands
LOVES it when you get possessive. Man wants you to be greedy with him, just like he is with you, so if you yank his attention away from other demons in a fit of jealousy, he’ll just find it hot
Tangibly, the nature of your relationship hasn’t changed much after marriage. You both still live in the House of Lamentation (though you have moved into his room) he’s still in debt (but things are better than before, and Lucifer doesn’t shout as much), and he still has an only slightly unhealthy obsession with Goldie (fixed only by the fact that you have told him that no, he should not sleep clutching his credit card like a teddy bear)
But inside, marriage means everything to this demon
Man was assertive before, but never confident, ya know? All those big, fancy words were more of a coverup for his insecurity after being made fun of for so long
But now?
His confidence is real
And because of it, being around him is actually easier. He doesn’t need to call himself The Great Mammon or remind you to come to him when you need protecting - because at last, he believes those words
Why?
Because when he falls asleep every night with his head buried in the crook of your neck, it’s to your words of praise, slowly but steadily building his confidence up
And he loves it
(Bonus:) When he proposed, he proposed with ten rings because “you’re better than everyone else so you deserve more rings than everyone else”
Leviathan
Sigh
This man really tried to talk you out of marrying him
Of course, by that time the wedding date was already final and everything ,so you shut him up with a firm whack on the back of the head, but that never stops Levi from being continually insecure
It’s not that he doesn’t want to be married to you
It’s that he’s worried you’re missing out on something by being married to him
:(
Poor baby is so precious
And so insecure
At the beginning of your marriage, it takes hours to convince him that he’s not “unworthy” of your love 
Often in the morning, you’ll be able to tell that he’s having self-deprecating thoughts just by the look in his eye, so you’ll cuddle and kiss and love him for hours until it’s almost lunchtime - and only then, after hours of you reassuring him and reminding him why you love him, does he begin to believe that he isn’t a “yucky otaku”
For the remainder of the day, Levi makes sure to repay you in full - literally showering you in love as he makes you his Player 2 for every video game, going as far as to allow you to sit in his lap while he reads manga over your shoulder
And while things often reset at night - and the next morning the demon looks equally fearful about your decision to marry him, there’s no denying that the amount of time it takes to convince him that you love and want him is growing shorter and shorter
And then, one day, when Levi wakes up, he doesn’t have that look in his eyes at all
And he just straight up kisses you
This is the story of why Levi kisses you every morning, first thing in the morning (even if it’s just a forehead kiss)
Man is eternally grateful to you for bearing with him (despite you insisting that you weren’t “bearing’ with him - you were doing it out of love) while he was so hesitant and fearful, and vows to return every ounce of love tenfold
Man will do anything for you
Of course, he still prefers to stay indoors and to marathon TSL with you
But he does stop glancing away every time you praise him, and all the instances where he might have previously insulted himself now turn into simple blushes where he wraps you in a hug to hide his warm cheeks
Man is surprisingly touchy, even when he’s not fighting with other for your attention
100% sleeps best if you’re spooning him - no questions asked
(And please don’t ask questions - he’ll get so embarrassed)
And yes, after much begging him, he does finally purchase a bed for the two of you to sleep in instead of his bathtub (which is surprisingly comfy, given that you can just lay on top of Levi and cuddle him)
But yes, sometimes he will randomly lift you up in the middle of the night and carry you to the bathtub, because while there’s no chance this man is letting go of you as you sleep, he will always prefer the bathtub 
Sigh
But you love him anyway <3
Satan
No one would have thought that the Avatar of Wrath would be able to lead such a peaceful life, but the second you guys get married, that’s what things are
Peaceful
Man treats you like royalty, making sure that things are always perfect for you
Mornings are no longer spent at the dining table, but are instead spent on the small table in Satan’s bedroom, where the two of you roll out of bed every morning and lazily curl up together on the same armchair while drinking tea and coffee, chatting about whatever dreams you had
Afternoons are quiet: Satan’s nose in a book and your fingers occupied with whatever your favorite pastime is, but you guys are always right next to each other, always touching in some way 
Evenings are calm - Satan will sometimes play a disc of your favorite human world band or will put on some music of his own preferred Devildom artists, and the two of you will simply talk until it’s nighttime and you both are sleepy
In essence, man mellows out after you marry him
And the reason?
He always feels so calm. It’s like you’ve quelled the eternal storm within his heart by marrying him, by promising that you’ll spend the rest of your lives together - and Satan hardly thinks he has any need for emotions like rage and anger when he always feels so blissfully happy with you
It becomes his favorite thing in the whole world to just pull you onto his lap and play with the ring around your finger, listening to the sound of your voice
He’s just so soft for you
Highkey wants to spend the rest of his life locked away inside his room with you, away from other people and other things that make him angry, but he will venture out into public with you because he knows that there’s value in exposing oneself to various social environments
In fact, now if he leaves the house at all, it’s usually with you by his side
His favorite place to visit is 100% the cat shelter, with the local, cozy bookstore taking its place as a close second
But this man will not hesitate to throw hands with anyone who disrespects you
It’s actually one of the reasons why he finds it so tedious to go outside - because no matter what, there’s always some foolish demon that treats you poorly, and then Satan’s disposition dictates that he can’t let that demon go home until the fool learns his place and apologizes
Of course, after the whole ordeal you guys 100% go somewhere to cheer each other up, and that’s the story of how you become the local ice cream store’s most valued customers
But Satan will always prefer being safe in his room with you, surrounded by his books and your things and everything that screams home
And are you guys secretly hiding a cat in your room?
Who knows? 
All you can say is that when the stack of “books” eternally buried under Satan’s desk sneezes, it’s not because Satan “enchanted them” to do so 
;)
Asmodeus
d e d i c a t e d 
h u s b a n d o 
Anyone can see the switch in Asmo when he settles down and marries you
Like
Man changed when you guys started dating for sure. His posts on Devilgram began featuring you, he spent money he would have spent on hair products on buying you gifts, he stopped talking about himself and began focusing on complimenting you
But now that you’re married? And shit is official?? And you’ve actually legally sworn that you want to spend the rest of your life with him???
It’s the first time Asmo cries tears of joy
Man pulls a full 180 - there’s no longer any such thing as Asmo, or even MC. No, the two of you are now a package deal - and everywhere you go, it’s Asmo AND MC
And the whole Devildom knows about you two
And really, how could they not?
Ever since Asmo made that one post on Devilgram where the two of you are posing, flashing the camera your engagement rings - every single post Asmo has made is of you
In fact, some of his posts don’t even have him in it - they’re just you
Because this boi is so smitten for you
And he wants the whole world to know it
You guys start matching everything (or everything that’s fashionable. matching t-shirts are NOT the wave, honey, so put those back)
Nail polish? Matching. Jewelry? Matching. Aesthetics? Matching.
Asmo has so much love in his heart that it literally comes pouring out in every action he does
Man will miss his beauty sleep for you if you ask him for a glass of water in the middle of the night. And better yet, he won’t even complain if you keep him up late, as long as it means he gets to hold you close and shower you in kisses
And if you thought Asmo before marriage was touchy, then you have a big surprise in for you
Asmo’s touches are no longer sexual. (Or some of them are, but only when you’re ready for it ;)) He’s now more preoccupied with the closeness that accompanies touching you, and so his skin is always brushing by yours even in the briefest of touches, because it always sends such a lovely rush of warmth to his heart whenever you touch
Everything reminds him of you
Man will send you pictures of trees, birds, flowers (honestly anything beautiful) with the caption saw this today and it reminded me of you xoxo
And though he maintains the ruse of this being completely casual, that this marriage is just another wonderful thing that’s happened to him, you know that he never stops fangirling over the fact that you’ve actually chosen him to love and marry
And yes, he was an angel born to be loved: he was the jewel of the heavens and everyone who looked upon him was instantly charmed
But to him, none of that matters
The only love he cares about is yours, and now that you’ve given it to him, you’ve literally brought heaven to him because there’s nothing in the world he would trade for this
Beelzebub
Imagine being married to Superman
That.
That is what this marriage is like.
To the rest of the world, you are literally untouchable - because the moment you marry him, Beel will not allow anyone to mistreat you
Did you think he was baby? That he was precious?
Well, you were right. But now that the two of you are married, he looks at you with that same lens of protectiveness, and he wants to shield you from all the evil in the Devildom
Man is devoted in public and in private: nothing will stop him from showcasing his love for you
Expect to be offered food at all hours of the day, to be lifted up and hugged at random, and to be given forehead kisses on the daily 
And listen, when Beel kisses you on the forehead in public, it’s not just a show of affection to show the world how much he loves you. It’s a silent threat to anyone who might hurt you - a silent warning that Beel has extended his protective domain over to you, and now anyone who messes with you is messing with him and will not be shown mercy
That’s only in public tho - in private, this man goes back to being the most precious thing in the world
So 
Many
KISSES
Contrary to public expectation, Beel is just like his younger brother in that he adores lazing around with you in bed, laying kisses across your skin for hours on end while you just sigh in bliss
He just adores the intimacy of the whole situation alongside the sensation of your smaller frame being literally enveloped by his own
His favorite thing in the whole world is laying on his side with his head resting on top of yours, your back pressed against his chest while he hugs you from behind and listens to you rant about whatever. And while this is going on, he will absolutely slide his ring off his finger and absentmindedly slide it onto yours, watching as the larger band dangles so loosely off even the thickest of your fingers
It actually opens up a whole new kink realization to him: that he adores seeing you in his things and watching the way your smaller frame is nearly swallowed up by all his clothes
And while it has always been normal for you to casually wear his shirts and walk around his room in them without anything else on, the fact that the two of you are married gives him the confidence to sneak you out of his room looking like that, where you occasionally run into his brothers. And the sight of you dressed in his clothes in front of other people awakens a side of him that he never knew existed
100% tries to get you to leave the house looking like that
“Babe, I can’t wear this outside”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not wearing any underwear beneath this and if the wind blows, then—”
“You’re not wearing any underwear?”
And then Beel realized that he really had discovered a new kink
Belphegor
The marriage no one foresaw
Nah, but fr tho
It’s not that Belphie doesn’t love you - even a blind man can tell that he’s hopelessly fallen for you
It’s just that you guys were acting like a married couple so long before you guys got married that no one thought there was any point in actually sealing the deal
And honestly, things really don’t change much after you both get married
You still sleep in the same bed, you still cuddle each other at night, you still bicker back and forth 
From a distance, it seems like the nature of your relationship is entirely unchanged, save for the fact that you both have matching bands around your ring fingers
B U T
That’s only because no one else can see how Belphie treats you in private
Where there would once be peaceful naps where he dozed off on your thighs to the feeling you playing with his hair, he now spends that time lost in slow conversations with you, their topics varying based on whatever has popped through his mind that day
Man realizes that, now that you’re his spouse, he wants to know everything about you
And he’s willing to spend all the time in the world learning these things
He’ll lie you down on the bed and play with your hair, asking you the most random questions
“Do you dislike mushrooms?”
“If you had a pet frog, what would you name it?”
“What do you think of stickers?”
Of course, that may be because your answers are utterly ridiculous
“Only if they stand over four inches”
“Fluffy”
“They’re only good if they smell good”
And for the longest time, you really only humor his questions with responses because, well, he’s your husband and you think that he just wants to get to know you better (albeit in a rather unorthodox method)
But then, one day, the two of you are casually walking through the Devildom market in preparation for it being Belphie’s turn to make dinner, and the demon selects the ingredients to your favorite dish without even consciously knowing what it is
And you realize that every question you answered was one Belphie took to heart, and that the reason he always wants to learn so much about you is so that he can use the information to be the best husband he can be
And when you figure it out, you nearly tackle Belphie to the ground in a hug, because you’re so touched
“You’re the best husband ever!” You murmur, wrapping your legs around his waist as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, clinging to him like a koala as you trap him in an embrace he can’t wriggle out of
“Did you really just realize why I always ask these things?” Belphie questions, sighing as if he’s disappointed
But even he can’t hide the small grin that creeps onto his face as you hug him tighter, and you know he’s just savoring the affection. And who are you to deny him any?
Solomon
cHAoTiC
Arguably the most stressful marriage, but not for either of you: for the people around you
You guys are that couple
Things were hectic enough before, when you guys would pull pranks on the demons every time you were together. But now that you’re in love? And married??? And ALWAYS together?!?!?
RIP to everyone around you
The two of you never really seem to grow old - your energy is seemingly inexhaustible and you’ve already pranked all 72 demons that Solomon has pacts with four times over (and yes, that does include Barbatos, who has now made multiple threats to break the pact)
But, again, this is one of those instances where there’s a sharp difference between how you guys act in public vs. in private
In public, things are a hot mess. You guys are always laughing, always joking, always smiling
But in the privacy of Solomon’s bedroom, without any potential targets for pranks and any demons that you guys need to keep your guard up around, things change substantially
Contrary to public expectation, you guys are almost completely silent when you’re alone - but it’s not an awkward silence, by any means. No, the silence that you and Solomon find is nothing short of comforting, and every time you guys escape to the confines of his room, you both let out a breath neither of you realized you’d been holding
Because although you guys are strong, and arguably the most powerful team of humans in the Devildom, the fact remains that you guys are human.
And you can only let your guards fully down around each other
Nights are spent in the absence of any loud laughter or obnoxious rackets, the two of you preferring to savor the sound and comfort of silence. You guys fit together like pieces to a puzzle, and no words are necessary for the two of you to change into your nightwear and snuggle up under the same blanket, soft sighs escaping your lips the moment your skin comes into contact with one another
It’s only times like now, when there’s no one else in the world around, that you both can find true peace
And on nights like these, Solomon will just hold you close to him, sometimes pressing his forehead against yours, and he’ll stroke your sides softly, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin
And of course, you’ll reciprocate in full, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to the man’s jaw as he continues his ministrations, sometimes letting out a quiet hum of contentment as you pull him closer
It’s a relationship where speech isn’t necessary; you guys are so in sync with each other and so helplessly in love that words only complicate things
But still, on occasion, one of you will open your mouths to disrupt the silence, and on nights like these, there’s really only one thing either of you will even consider saying
“I love you”
And if there’s one certainty in life, it’s the fact that the other will repeat the same phrase back, punctuating it with a kiss that reminds you both why you love each other so much
And just how worth it this marriage really is
Simeon
The marriage that everyone foresaw
Nah, but fr tho
This is the relationship where everyone knew about it except for you two
Even the day Simeon proposed: it was so spontaneous - he was planning on doing it the following week - but every single person who crossed paths with him could see how helplessly in love he was with you, so it shocked no one when the two of you announced the “surprise” that you were getting married
And this is arguably one of the best decisions you have ever made
In every way
Simeon’s an angel, so marriage is probably the most important to him out of everyone. He was treating you like royalty long before you two got together, but now that the two of you are married? This man CANNOT hold back. And believe him, when he says he will get you whatever you want - he will get you whatever you want
Funny part is, most of the time, this man knows what you want before you do
You’ll be diligently taking notes at the RAD library and you won’t realize that your pencil is blunt until the words are barely legible - but when you get up to find a sharpener, you’ll see that Simeon tossed one onto your desk right before he left to grab a book
You’ll wake up at three in the morning and realize you’re thirsty - but the moment you open your eyes and sit up on the bed, Simeon will already be there with that charming smile and a glass of water in his hand
You’ll be returning from a session of painting your nails with Asmo, only to realize that there’s no way you can grab your keys from your pocket without smudging the semi-dry nail polish - and Simeon will miraculously come home at that second, kissing you on the forehead before opening the front door for you
Like seriously, it’s a gift
Of course, then there comes the day where you try to return the favor, trying to study the way his eyebrows furrow as he reads his book to determine when he’s about to stop and turn on the TV instead (only for you to triumphantly hand him the remote)
And then the affection never ends and the rest of your marriage is characterized by nonstop trying to outdo each other in thoughtfulness that everyone just looks at and sighs because it’s so wholesome
And will Luke become your and Simeon’s honorary child?
Absolutely.
And does Luke hate this in every single way?
Oh yes:
“This is ridiculous! I am two thousand years older than MC! You can’t expect me to have to listen to them every time they tell me to do something! They should be listening to me!”
“Watch your language, young man,” Simeon warns. “I won’t have you talk that way in this house.”
“It’s not even a house!” Luke screams in defiance. “And I refuse! I will say what I want, when I want, and how I want!”
“That’s enough, Luke. Go to your room and think about what you’ve said until you’re ready to apologize!”
And God help Luke the day he accidentally calls Simeon “Dad,” because nothing can break the family after that moment
Barbatos
“Teach me.”
Listen, marriage isn’t a concept that demons are familiar with
They love you, so they’ll do it for your sake - but if a demon weds a human, the demon is 100% playing it by ear and desperately hoping that they’re doing things right
But Barbatos?
Nah, this man gives everything his all, and you’re more important than everything combined. So suffice it to say that when he marries you, he is committed to being the best husbando he can possibly be
And how does he go about achieving such a thing, you ask?
Why, two simple words: “Teach me.”
He asks that you be completely upfront and honest with him about what you desire, and he does everything he can to fulfill them
Things start slow, of course
You mention to him that married couples often sleep in the same bed and share a bedroom - and then he’s requested that Diavolo provide him a new room (one which doesn’t have doors that lead to other timelines) where the two of you live together
Then you talk about how married couples usually have matching wedding rings, and the next morning you find two obscenely expensive (but beautifully artistic) rings, and a wide-eyed butler asking if they’re to your liking
You explain that married couples sometimes get closer to each other by having a family pet and (bless his heart) Barbatos takes you to an aquarium the next day and the two of you bring home a pet fish
And things are slow going with Barbatos, but progress is steady
And soon, he starts to get the hang of it
You guys don’t just sleep in the same bed, he starts to pull you closer. Casual touches turn into cuddling, and then all of a sudden he can only sleep if he’s spooning you in the process
He decides that he likes it when you wear things he buys you, so he gifts you even more woefully expensive but equally stunning jewelry, until you’re always leaving your shared room with one of Barbatos’s presents adorned on your figure
And although Barbatos is too responsible to get rid of the (immortal) pet fish he bought, the two of you have a talk and then you head down to the pet store and buy an actual pet, one which you guys can touch and hug and cuddle
And before long, Barbatos doesn’t need you to teach him how to be a good husband, he realizes that most of it is instinctive; he understands that to make you happy, he really just needs to do the things that make him happy
Of course, he still approaches many things textbook style
Every morning and every night, man will whisper that he loves you - no excuses. You guys could have a fight and he will still do this
But gradually as time moves on, he sees that marriage doesn’t have to be a big, fancy show
And he starts to just savor the sensation of being helplessly in love with you
Diavolo
POWER COUPLE
No, but literally - you guys are the most powerful couple in the world
And Diavolo is living for it
You are royalty now, and Diavolo won’t let you forget that for a single second
You want a snack? That’s fine, here’s a nine-course buffet featuring food from the human world, Celestial Realm, and Devildom
Been feeling tired and want a break? No worries, the next week has been declared a newfound Devildom holiday, so rest up for as long as you want
You don’t like this specific brand of nail polish? Oh okay, there are now four hundred samples in your room to help you find one you do like
It honestly gets to the point where you have to sit Diavolo down (*cough* sit on Diavolo’s lap *cough*) and tell him that no, when you tell him you’re considering cutting your hair, he doesn’t have to hire four professional hairstylists and a consultant to help you select the style
After much discussion he agrees to talk these things out with you
And it’s the sweetest thing in the world
“Babe, can you help me get this jar? I can’t reach it.”
“Does this mean you just want me to get you the jar? Or do you want me to make it a law that all Devildom households cannot have shelves higher than the reach of the standard human height?”
“Just the jar, hon.”
“Oh”
Will never deny you anything, ever
Actually begins putting your interests in front of his own, asking Barbatos to cook your favorite meals and desserts instead of Diavolo’s own preferences because hey, food is just food, and it makes him so happy to see your face light up when you find that dinner is your favorite dish
And listen there’s one thing you need to know about: this man’s bed
Holy shit, nothing compares
It is the most comfortable thing in the world, and you’re pretty sure that even God is missing out if he hasn’t taken a nap on Diavolo’s bed because goddamn that shit is amazing
Like you love Diavolo to death but his bed is absolutely revolutionary with how comfortable it is, and you really feel like you could spend an eternity just starfished out under the covers
And of course, since you love the bed and Diavolo loves you, the two of you can spend hours just lazing around in the morning, cuddling and giggling until it’s almost lunchtime
And mornings with Diavolo are the best
Again, though, you’re royalty, now that you’re married to him. So Diavolo isn’t going to let you be woken up like a commoner. With him, there are no alarms, no loud voices, none of that obnoxious shaking you awake or any such nonsense
No, when Diavolo wakes you up every morning, it’s truly in a way fit for royalty, in a way that only he can do - a way that you honestly prefer to all the others ways you’ve been woken 
And does this include Diavolo smirking up with you every morning from between your thighs?
Absolutely.
But does that stop him from doing it every day? 
Never.
5K notes · View notes
ericspinkhair · 4 years ago
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dirty thoughts from a distance
pairing: dom!changmin x virgin!reader, best friends to lovers, college au!
synopsis: you masturbate while thinking of your best friend and he catches you moan out his name
word count: 3.8k
warnings: maybe slight angst, (getting caught) masturbating, mutual masturbation, sex in general ig
a/n: y'all are crazyy! it has barely been 19 days and I have already hit 100 followers🤧 thank you guys so much for your support and sending in requests!!! everytime I see leave me nice messages I feel so encouraged to keep on writing even though there is still a lot of room to improve and I am not always completely satisfied with what I create. I wish all of you a great day and hope that you stay happy and healthy!!
this chapter is especially dedicated to @bangcrispychannie​ and anon who requested this kind of scenario ❤️
masterlist + requests
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for three years you wondered why you hadn't lost your virginity yet. it's not like you didn't have enough opportunities since you had been in two relationships so far, both lasted about five to seven months.
the feelings in your first relationship were been mostly one-sided however.
when a guy in your biology class named Minho confessed his crush for you, you thought that the only logical next step was to become a couple. you were quite flattered that he had taken such an interest in you and believed and hoped you would eventually develop feelings for him as well. the problem was you didn't. after not being able to be emotionally let alone physically intimate with him for a few months into your relationship, he finally confronted you and you confessed that you just couldn't bring yourself to see him that way. your relationship came to an end just before becoming a senior in high school.
in your last year, you got close with Seonghwa. you were seat neighbors in your english class and you'd chat all the time. he was perfectly sweet, smart and funny and you instantly got along just fine. you developed an interest in him and he seemed to feel the same way. he asked you out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and some chocolate and you agreed to being his girlfriend without much thought. you caught yourself falling in love with this boy and didn't shy away from physical affection such as kissing and holding hands. you were convinced you were ready to give yourself to him during prom night but when it came to it you chickened out. a couple of hours before, you had found out that your best friend changmin had broken up with his girlfriend of six months.
for a long time you hadn't been able to decipher why you hadn't slept with Seonghwa then. as time passed, the unpleasant answer became clearer and clearer: you had brought up your hopes.
you had been best friends with changmin basically since you started elementary school. on the first day, he scared you with a stupid horror mask he had sneaked in from home and made you cry. he felt so guilty and was determined to make it up to you and to become friends. you had been inseparable ever since.
when he got his first girlfriend in junior year you were devastated. you convinced yourself that the reason for that was that you had been scared he was going to replace you as his best friend but in reality you had felt jealousy.
you were suppressing your feelings because if you confessed, things might become awkward. there was no way changmin could ever like you the same way.
all of this became more difficult as you moved in together for college. you were sharing an apartment now and every day, it became harder to avoid your growing and troublesome feelings. your heart would beat faster whenever he walked around shirtless (which was most of the time) and you decided to try to ignore him. this was especially difficult since you wanted to appreciate his physique. when had he become this handsome? changmin had been dancing all his life so he had always been fit but now that he was majoring in it and training most of the time, his body had developed and he had become super toned and his abs were more prominent.
he'd often make his way into your dreams and you'd let him do inappropriate things with you. you'd wake up wet and needy and even more confused. you were ashamed of seeing him this way. this was not how one normally thought about their best friend.
it was a wednesday morning and you were eating breakfast when changmin joined you in the kitchen. he flashed you a big smile, making his pretty dimples appear which you didn't see as you did not look at him.
'good morning, y/n!' he greeted you in a good mood. you just grunted in response, intensely staring at the cereal swimming in your bowl.
the fact that you couldn't even spare him a glance hurt changmin but he tried to not let it show. he wanted to get you to talk to him.
'do you want to watch a movie and play some board games today after class?' he proposed. you hadn't spent a lot of time together ever since you had become aware of your feelings.
'I have an essay due tomorrow,' you quickly made up as an excuse. the corners of changmin's mouth twitched but you didn't notice as you were too preoccupied with doing anything that didn't include looking at him.
'then maybe on the weekend. or next-' 'I'll be busy,' you interjected. 'I have lots to do.' you stressed the lots to emphasize there was absolutely no way you would be able to hang out with him any time soon.
'umm… okay. I'll be going to class.' he told you dejected. your heart sank but you didn't respond. he was wondering whether he had done anything to make you upset but he couldn't wrap his mind around it. this had been going on for a while and he was starting to become desperate.
when you first got the apartment you spent every free minute of the day together, happy that you finally moved out and could be with each other 24/7, but then you stopped talking to him completely out of nowhere. from one day to the other, you would avoid leaving your room when he was outside and barely talked to him anymore. at first, changmin thought you were just stressed and that you'd eventually warm up again when exam season came to an end but a few months had passed and, if anything, the situation was even worse than before.
you were watching the time and after ten minutes you decided to leave for classes as well. you had started doing this so you couldn't possibly catch up to him and risk having a conversation.
'hey, y/n, what's up!' your friend chanhee hugged you when you arrived on campus. you were both majoring in fashion design and were getting along on well since the beginning of the first semester.
you sighed exasperatedly. 'changmin's up.' you puffed your cheeks and pouted. chanhee nodded knowingly. he was the only person who was aware of your little secret and that was only because you had accidentally drunk confessed the whole story to him at your first college party.
'you know maybe you should tell him. this whole thing is clearly not making you happy and I saw changmin walk by a few minutes ago. if I had to guess I'd say he was in an even worse mood than you. someone accidentally ran into him and he pushed them hard and called them names. it's not like him to overreact like this. he's usually super collected. I think you finally managed to break his spirit,' chanhee reported to you.
this had never been what you intended. why did everything have to be so difficult? you didn't want to be the cause of your best friend's unhappiness.
'he must feel like I despise him. but I cannot confess to him, that would be the end of our friendship!' you were constantly torn apart by this dilemma.
'well, if you're not gonna act on your feelings, maybe try to move on? find something casual or serious with someone new? then you'd forget all about changmin and you'd be able to go back to acting normal around him' he suggested.
chanhee's advice didn't sound too bad. if you couldn't get with changmin then you had to de-crush yourself and find somebody different to focus your emotional energy on. but on who?
'is there anyone you could think of?' you ask chanhee. he had great taste in practically everything so you highly valued his opinion.
'hmm, you could potentially try younghoon hyung? I've seen him eyeing you for weeks now and he even told me thinks your gorgeous.' he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.
younghoon was a pretty art student, whom chanhee knew from high school. you didn't talk to him often, mostly at parties and he wasn't exactly your type but you tried to remember shouldn't judge him by his first impression when you haven't even got to know him.
chanhee pulled out his phone and soon you felt yours vibrate in your back pocket. you looked at him questioningly.
'I sent you his number in case you're interested,' he explained proudly. he put his hand on your shoulder and you could see the concern in his eyes. 'you really need to get over changmin if don't want to confess,' he insisted firmly.
so you decided to text younghoon during class. he was very polite and you thought he was cute as he seemed excited to talk to you. you agreed to hang out sometime to get to know each other and decided to meet up friday for dinner.
after the end of your classes, you walked home to warm up yesterday's leftovers. to your dismay, changmin had also decided to come home for once. since you began acting all weird and refused to eat with him, he usually spent lunch time with his dance mates as they had practice after anyway. why had he decided to come here today? your question was answered when he ran up to you, smiling from ear to ear and you noticed he was hiding something behind his back.
'you know how there is a blackpink concert downtown on friday? guess what!' he held up two tickets. surely you would at least agree to spend time with him if it meant being able to see your favorite group, right?
he must have gone through so much trouble to get tickets for you and since blackpink were your favorite music artists you were actually contemplating on going but then you remembered you had made plans.
'I can't. I'm going out with younghoon friday night.'
'kim younghoon?' he raised an eyebrow skeptically.
'why would you to be spending time together? I didn't know he was even talking to you,' he questioned you. anger was boiling inside of you.
'maybe it's because you don't know everything about me,' you snapped at him. you were aware that you were being harsh but somehow his words hurt you. why did he doubt you? did he think you weren't able to get with someone as awesome and popular as younghoon? did he not consider you pretty enough?
the microwave beeped, indicating your food was ready, making you snap out of your thoughts.
'y/n, I swear, that's not what I meant.' he stepped directly in front of you so you were forced to look at him. you stared deep into his pleading eyes as you closed the microwave door, turned your back to him, stomped to your room and slammed the door shut, leaving changmin behind in the kitchen.
your whole body was tense as you listened closely to any sounds coming from outside and felt relieved when you heard the front door close. feeling sad and depressed always made you feel tired so you decided to take a nap to forget about all the negative feelings.
when you woke up you were horny af. you had a dream about changmin taking you on the kitchen counter and now your panties were completely soaked with your arousal.
desperate, you pulled them down and tossed them somewhere to the side. it didn't matter. you needed relief now.
you closed your eyes as you slowly started rubbing your clit, imagining it was changmin's slender fingers touching you instead. your imagination was running wild and you sped up the tempo.
eventually, you plunged your middle finger and then your index finger inside you, pretending that changmin was stretching your walls with his cock.
you moaned loudly and picked up the pace, chasing your high. oh, how much you wished he was the one making you come.
'yes?' you opened your eyes and gasped loudly as you saw changmin watching you from the doorway. you hecticly pulled up your blankets to your chest to cover your naked lower body. for how fucking long had he been standing there?
'oh fuck, changmin...' you cursed out loud.
to your surpise he laughed. 'oh, is this why you have been so distant? were you embarrassed about imagining doing dirty things with me?' your cheeks were burning red and you were unable to move a muscle.
'you know, if you had told me you were thinking of me while doing it then I could've helped you out already. that would have spared both of us a lot of frustration.' he stepped into the room and pulled the sheets away, his hungry eyes fixed on your desperately dripping pussy. you tried to hide it with your hands.
'n-no… what are you saying? aren't we best friends? ' you couldn't comprehend what was happening right now. the way he was acting was so unexpected that you didn't know how to react or what to say. he brushed his hand over your burning cheeks. his eyes were conveying disparity.
'but what if I told you I don't care? that I like you? that I see you as more than just my best friend?'
'wait, you like me?' you couldn't believe your ears. was he actually reciprocating your feelings?
he groaned in exasperation. 'y/n, why did you think I ended things with my ex out of the blue?' you shrugged your shoulders as you weren't sure. you had thought it was because she had lost interest in him, at least that's what changmin had told you back then.
'because I realized I was in love you, you dumbass. how could I be together with someone if I had feelings for someone else?'
'I actually ruined my chances of having sex with seonghwa for the first time for the same reason. it was just after I had found out about the breakup,' you confessed, relieved that you were finally beginning to make sense of everything.
he climbed onto the mattress and positioned his knees next to your closed legs, leaning his hands on the wall behind you so that he was hovering above you.
'I'm sorry that you lost that opportunity. let me make it up to you,' he whispered with his face mere inches from yours and then kissed you. losing all self-restraint, you immediately pulled his body closer so that he was straddling you. after all these months filled with sexual frustration and just frustration in general, you were desperate for his touch. your hands wandered under his dance shirt and you were finally able to touch those abs you had been secretly admiring for so long.
you broke the kiss to take off both of your shirts and changmin skillfully unclasped your bra.
while his tongue was exploring the insides of your mouth, his hands were kneading your breasts, occasionally rubbing and pinching your hardened nipples. you felt his hard dick press against your lower abdomen as he grinded himself into you to get friction.
after having dreamt about this moment for so long, you felt impatient. this was too good to be true and you were scared that if you didn't act quick, your bubble would bust.
without thinking twice about it, you pulled down the hem of his sweatpants and boxers just far enough so you could easily reach inside and whip out his dick. you stopped for a moment to admire his length. it looked even better than you had ever imagined in any of your wildest dreams.
he sat upright, leaning on the wall behind you, while you stroked his cock. he was sensitive to your touch and not shy to show you how well you were doing by responding with moans.
'fuck, y/n. you're doing amazing.' his praise made you eager to show him just how good you could make him feel. your lack of experience was barely noticeable as the adrenaline flowing through your veins was guiding you.
you tapped his thighs to signalize him to inch closer. that way your mouth had easier access to his dick. you hesitantly licked up his length and were fascinated by how he tasted. wanting to have more of it, you swirl your tongue around his pink tip. changmin eventually became impatient and forced more of his dick inside your mouth so you tried to take as much of him as you could but your gag reflex made it difficult for you. instead, you worked your hands where your mouth couldn't do its job.
not wanting you to feel neglected, changmin reached behind him to stimulate your clit. he skillfully started rubbing all the right places and you moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock.
he couldn't take this stimulation for much longer before he had to force himself to pull out of your mouth.
'wow, you almost made me come there.' he panted heavily. 'but I want to be inside you first.' you got lost in his touch as he placed a long kiss on your lips but a sudden thought brought you back to reality.
'wait, I don't have a condom,' you informed him embarrassed. you hadn't planned to lose your virginity any time soon so you hadn't bought any. did that mean the end of this wonderful dream?
but changmin laughed light heartedly. 'no need to worry. hold up, let me get some from my room.' you relaxed again as he disappeared and came back shortly with a condom wrapper in his hand.
you were prepared for him to start right away and took a deep breath in preparation but he didn't do anything.
'I don't think it's a good idea to start yet since I haven't even prepared you. the last thing I would want to do is hurt you so just lay back.'
he positioned your legs over his shoulders so your hips were hovering in the air. you felt his warm breath against your vagina before he drove his tongue inside you, seeing for himself how wet he had made you and tasting your arousal. you clasped your hands over your mouth to stop yourself from releasing any sounds.
'don't do that. I want to hear how good I make you feel,' changmin complained.
when he slid two fingers inside you, you couldn't hold it in anymore and let out some kind of aroused squeal. you felt self-conscious but it seemed like changmin was only more eager to please you.
at the same time, his tongue was abusing your swollen clit and it was impossible for you to hold back the curses that were spilling out of your mouth. the pleasure he was making you feel was a whole different sensation from anything else you've experienced before.
'more please, changmin!' you begged. you wanted more. you needed more. you needed him.
he carefully lowered your hips back down. 'are you sure you want this?' he asked you, waiting for you to clearly consent to having sex with him.
'I want you. you, and only you,' you reassured him and brought his face closer to kiss him. changmin's typical bright smile formed and you felt the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.
he positioned himself at your entrance, swiping his dick between your folds like a credit card to coat it with your juices.
you gripped his arms tightly as he pushed in. he slowly continued until all of him was buried deep inside you before stopping. the feeling of a whole penis inside of you was very different from your or changmin's fingers. it filled you up to the brim and was rubbing all the good spots. while it initially caused you a bit of discomfort, it wasn't overwhelming and it also felt good in a weird way.
when your walls finished adjusting to his length, he began to steadily move his dick in and out.
changmin intensely studied your face. he couldn't believe that after all those years you were finally close to being his. he wanted to savor every single expression you made while he was inside you.
you wrapped your legs around his torso, trying to push him deeper. he slammed his cock back inside you.
'you are mine,' he declared and started going harder and faster.
'I am yours,' you confirmed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.
because of the extensive foreplay and your own masturbation prior to this, it didn't take long until your walls were tightening around his dick and you felt an orgasm approaching.
driven wild by you clenching around his cock, he thrusted into you even faster. you rested your sweaty foreheads against each other as both of you almost came simultaneously.
changmin kissed the top of your head before he pulled out and threw away the used condom. you opened your arms and he let himself fall right into your embrace.
'I know this might be kind of weird to talk about right now but do you want to be my girlfriend?' Changmin asked you. he still wasn't too sure what all of this meant for your relationship and he desperately needed to know where your mind was at.
'after having liked you for all this time I'd be an idiot to say no.' 'you're an idiot anyway,' he teased. you slapped his arm.
'hey! I'm not the one who ignored you for a couple of months because my hormones are out of control.' you hid your face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed face him.
'I'm really sorry for that. you just mean so much to me and I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of our friendship.' he stroked your hair.
'I do understand that. if I hadn't heard you moan my name today I wouldn't have acted on my feelings either. but all is good now, right?' 'right.' you smiled and placed a small kiss below his ear.
'there is still one thing you need to do,' changmin tried to remind you. you looked at him, puzzled.
'what do you mean?' 'younghoon,' he hinted. you immediately started looking for your phone. that date was definitely going to have to be cancelled. there was no need for you to find a distraction anymore since you had been granted your wish after all.
488 notes · View notes
alrightberries · 4 years ago
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dante’s inferno
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request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺
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❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader
❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k
❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.
alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)
❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.
a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.
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Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.
Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
i. first terrace: pride
“We’re not keeping it.”
“But why?”
“We’re not keeping it.”
“But why.”
Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.
He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.
“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“
“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”
“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”
“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.
“You named it?”
“Dante is not an ‘it’.”
Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.
“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.
“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”
Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).
But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.
You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.
Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.
You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
ii. second terrace: envy
Levi is not jealous. He’s not.
At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.
It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.
When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.
Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.
“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.
“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”
“He was in my spot.”
“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”
“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”
“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”
“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”
“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”
“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”
He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.
You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.
Your lip twitches upward.
“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”
“Shut up and play with my hair.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
iii. third terrace: wrath
“You owe me a new cravat.”
You blink up at your roommate. “What?”
“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.
“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.
“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”
“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“
“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”
You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.
“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”
Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—
“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.
Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.
“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”
“You will pay me in cash.”
“Fuck, fine!”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
iv. fourth terrace: sloth
Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—
“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”
He stops typing and grits his teeth.
This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.
“Fuck if I care.”
“Do you think it was something I did?”
He resumes typing. “Yes.”
“Do you think he’ll come back?”
“No.”
“Even after all we’ve been through?”
“Still no.”
“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”
“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”
It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.
He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—
“Levi do you think Dante-“
“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.
“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.
“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”
Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.
Great. Just fucking great.
Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.
Could it be?
“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.
Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.
You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”
“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”
“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”
“I do.” He replies instantly.
“Then why’d you find him?”
“I hate him, not you.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
v. fifth terrace: avarice
“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.
Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.
“You especially.”
“Mrow?”
Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.
But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.
This is what he gets for trying to be nice.
“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.
“What the fuck happened?”
You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).
“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”
Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”
“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.
Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
vi. sixth terrace: gluttony
The clinic is still when you first entered.
The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.
Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.
You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”
“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”
“Don’t tell me... is he—-”
“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”
The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.
“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”
“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”
Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”
He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.
His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.
Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.
Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
vii. seventh terrace: desire
There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.
The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.
Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.
But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—
“Levi, are you okay?”
His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.
“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.
He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.
God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.
“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.
“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”
Levi blinks. “What?”
“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”
“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.
It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.
The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.
Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
epilogue
The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.
“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”
You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.
Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.
“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”
“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”
“It’s different off-campus!”
“How?”
“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”
“Let’s do it, then.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.
“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”
You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.
“Hey— ow! What was that for?”
“You weren’t listening.”
“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”
He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.
Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”
Wait. What?
Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.
“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.
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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago
Text
statistically significant | 1 | bakugou/reader
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length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters
summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.
tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert
warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior
note: I cannot overemphasize that this interpretation of Bakugou is based on season 1 Bakugou, which means he behaves very questionably at the beginning. Please heed the warnings!
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Last year
You had been ferreting snacks out of the Hero Awards when he found you.
In retrospect, the whole idea of attending the Hero Awards had been a bad one from the get go. You’d just been so thrilled by the image of it in your head--getting to see all your favorite pros gathered in one place, dressed to the nines, celebrating their rankings, their wins, their saves, their successes. You’d pictured yourself flitting between heroes, collecting autographs and taking selfies, sitting down at a table with big names like Uravity and Froppy, making fast friends over the complimentary champagne.
But then you’d seen what really went into preparing for and attending an event like this, and the shine had quickly rubbed off.
When your boss at the Commission had extended you the invite, she’d told you that you would be representing the organization, and had advised you to contract a makeup artist and find someone willing to dress you. Her tone had strongly implied that this was more of an order than a suggestion. So you’d done it, but nobody had told you exactly how many hours went into getting your makeup tested, getting fitted and refitted for a dress, and fielding questions on cut, colors, fabrics, and fit.
By the time the Awards rolled around, you’d lost upwards of forty excruciating hours of your life to preparations, and had developed some kind of anxiety-induced Pavlovian response to the modiste’s name on your phone screen, where you immediately wanted to leap into the nearest storage closet and hide. And none of this was even counting the five full hours you spent on the day of the awards getting primped and polished within an inch of your life, then stuffed into some ridiculous scrap of fabric that threatened to fall off of you if you so much as breathed wrong.
By the time the stylists and makeup artist had finished with you, you were starved, cranky, and nursing a small migraine from how enthusiastic the hairdresser had been with you. You’d thought, though, that you would finally be able to enjoy yourself now that the worst was over. All there was left was to attend the ceremony, and get to see all your favorite heroes.
And for an hour or two, the Hero Awards had been just as cool as expected. You lingered on the fringes of the red carpet, gawking as pros like Chargebolt and Pinky swanned their way down the walkway, looking even cooler in real life than they looked on TV. Everyone had clearly gone all out, and they looked unbelievably good, either inhumanly beautiful or inhumanly intimidating. You had been utterly transfixed, as evidenced by the inordinate amount of time you spent accidentally staring at Todoroki Shouto as he gave an interview to the side of the walkway, looking absolutely unreal as he leaned over to speak to the reporter.
When you’d finally managed to snap out of your trance, you’d remembered to cut a beeline for the snack table, and had set about stuffing as many snacks into your dress as you could manage. And that’s where the trouble really started.
The invite to the Awards had come with the option for a very fancy multi-course dinner that you could have chosen. Instead, you’d taken one look at the price and laughed yourself sick, before resolving to sneak a bunch of the free snacks into your dress to keep you occupied during the ceremony. The problem was, the scrap of fabric the modiste had insisted was a dress was so obnoxiously flimsy and could only hold so many snacks.
If your dress had been able to hold a reasonable number of snacks, you wouldn’t have needed to sneak back out to the snack table during the presentation, and he would have never had a chance to catch you on your own. But the dress was lacking snack utility, and so you had gone back out for more.
You kept low in the aisle as you crept out of the darkened theater, keeping a hand over your chest so you didn’t spill out of the thin fabric of your dress, and emerged into the reception hall, where you were almost blinded by the harsh light. You stood for a minute, blinking the spots out of your vision, and touched a hand to your eyes, careful not to smear any of your eyeliner.
And that’s when he struck.
Almost as soon as you raised your hand, a rough hand seized your wrist, wrenching your arm down. A heavy arm went around you quickly, trapping both your arms to your sides, and you barely had time to let out a squeak before a calloused hand clapped over your mouth. Your feet left the floor, and then you were being dragged through a side door into the stairwell.
You twisted wildly, kicking out, trying to catch the wall or the railing to push off of and throw your assailant off balance, but he was strong, and clearly well-versed in combat, as he kept you well away from anything you could use to your advantage. He hauled you out into the stairwell, but instead of heading down the stairs, he moved towards the corner. To your surprise, he tossed you unceremoniously against the wall, letting you go.
You caught yourself on the rough stone and whirled around, only to reel back in shock when you caught sight of your assailant.
Bakugou Katsuki, perhaps better known as pro hero Ground Zero, leaned over you, trapping you against the wall with an arm on either side of you. He, like all the other heroes you’d caught sight of today, looked almost unreal in person, but in stark contrast to all the others, his handsome face was twisted up in unmistakeable fury, blood-red eyes bright with violence and white teeth bared in a silent snarl. Even under the thick fabric of his suit, you could see the hard lines of his body were taught with aggression, and it was all you could do to not shrink back against the cold stone of the wall.
“So,” he snarled, leaning in to put his face close to yours, “you’re the fucking statistics nerd.”
You gaped at him, mouth falling open. Your professional title was data scientist, but statistics nerd was a close enough descriptor that you could tell he knew who you were. Your brows went up, wondering why in the world Ground Zero knew you.
“E-excuse me?” you managed. Your brain rapidly kicked into high gear, running through possible reasons why he would know you, what he could possibly want with you.
Bakugou snarled. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”
You stared at him. Problem with him? Other than the fact that he’d just seized you with no warning and dragged you into a stairwell, you had no problem with him. You’d never even met him--what the hell was he talking about?
“Uh, do you maybe have me confused with someone else?” you asked, trying to shift out from under his arm. Maybe there was another data scientist milling around in the crowds that he’d meant to get his hands on instead.
Bakugou’s red eyes narrowed, and he put a hand to your abdomen to press you firmly back to the wall. “Oh no. You’re not getting out of this, you little brat. Fucking fix it.”
You eyed him warily, checking him for signs of a head injury, wandering over his shock of blonde hair and noting the size of his pupils. Maybe Bakugou had been out on assignment just before the Awards, and hadn’t stopped to get his injuries checked out before coming here. A blow to the head would explain why he was behaving so strangely, and asking for weird stuff.
“Fix what?” you asked, frowning when you couldn’t spot the signs of a concussion on him. His gaze seemed all too focused, all too intent. It was nerve-wracking, actually. You’d heard of his reputation for intensity before, but it was one thing to hear it and another entirely to have all that intensity trained on you.
Bakugou bared his teeth and leaned closer. “Your fucking nerd-ass model. Fix it.”
You froze.
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh, this was about the model. You knew his bone to pick with the model.
The entire reason you’d received an invite to the Hero Awards in the first place was because of your work on the model that calculated the hero rankings. The model had existed for years before you had come along, but this year it was different.
You’d been hired a couple months ago by the Public Safety Hero Commission after you’d contacted them with an idea on how to finally calculate the value of field assists. You’d had a rough prototype of a neural network that you’d trained on video of multi-hero operations, tracking the movements of all the heroes on screen, and had developed an algorithm capable of assigning point values to moves that contributed to but did not directly result in a win or a rescue.
The Commission couldn’t get their hands on your work fast enough, and after only a few months refining your neural net, it was hooked into the rankings model, and it had informed not only the choices for Rescue of the Year and Most Valuable Hero this year, but had entirely changed the hero rankings overall.
And Bakugou’s ranking had been very much affected.
Bakugou Katsuki was a hero very unlike the world had ever seen. Anyone could see from his stats alone that he was incredibly driven, supremely powerful, and almost unmatched by any other hero out there. A few years out from UA, he’d already entered the top ten and had been mere breaths away from the top three -- that is, until your model results had been released.
The thing about Bakugou was that he had a higher percentage of fight wins than any hero in recorded history. He came out on top of almost any situation he entered into, and had one of the highest villain capture stats and the highest villain kill stat as compared to any other hero at this point in their career. The problem was, the new model also now took into account assists, as well as applied slightly heavier weights to rescues, and as good as Bakugou was at winning fights, he was almost equally as terrible at helping others.
So when your model had been worked into the Hero Commission’s official ranking calculations, Bakugou had backslid to sit unhappily at rank number eight.
And apparently, he thought this meant you had a personal grudge.
“Okay, I understand you’re upset, but the results are the results,” you said, watching him carefully. “It’s got nothing to do with you personally.”
His expression darkened thunderously, and the hand on your abdomen grew notably hotter, a scent like gunpowder and burnt sugar rising in the stairwell. “Like hell it doesn’t. Fucking fix it.”
Your brow furrowed. How did regular people think models worked? “There’s no ‘fixing it’, Bakugou. That’s just how math works. If you have a problem with how assists and rescues are weighted then you can take it up with the Commission. I just trained the model with their recommendations, and the results are what they are.”
Bakugou apparently registered none of what you were saying. Rough fingers slid to your jaw, tipping your face up to him. “What is it that you wanted, you damn brat? Did you want to see me humiliated? Or maybe you wanted my attention?” His fingers dug into your jaw. “Well now you have it, you fucking harpy, so show me what you wanted with it.”
You gaped at him, unable to help the way your mouth hung open like a fish. Did he think you were blackmailing him? With a fucking statistical model? It was a matter of public record that Bakugou was smart--he was purportedly one of the brightest minds that had ever graced the profession of hero, with strategic skill and combat sense that was utterly unparalleled--so then why the hell was he being so dumb about this? Was he really so self-absorbed that he thought this whole thing was about him?
Your temper flared, rising like the slow heat that was building under his hands. “I know this might be news to you,” you said slowly, “but not everything is about you. The model I trained takes in video as its input, and calculates rankings based on recommended weighting criteria that the Hero Commission gave me themselves. There is no place for me to input my own biases or change the results, so if the output is something that you’re ashamed of, then maybe you should do better.”
Bakugou’s eyes brightened, narrowing on you with an intensity that made you want to curl into the wall. “Say that again, you little fuck.”
You held your ground, ignoring the dangerous way the scent of hot smoke sharpened, leaning forward to bare your own teeth. “Maybe you should do better, you self-centered asshole.”
You were close enough that you could see his pupils dilate with the challenge, like a predator catching sight of its prey. An unsettling grin made its way across his mouth. “I am going to make you wish you’d never even seen a calculator, you smug fucking nerd,” he said, leaning into you.
The scent of gunpowder burned in the back of your throat, and the hands on you flared alarmingly hot, before the door to the hall burst open, and a whirlwind of red and yellow tore into the stairwell.
“Heya Blasty,” a voice chirped, echoing on the stairs, “Found ya.”
The shock of golden yellow resolved itself into the lean figure of Kaminari Denki, aka pro hero Chargebolt. He quickly made his way to Bakugou’s side, seizing an elbow.
“I’m busy, fuckstick. Fuck off,” Bakugou growled.
A large hand reached over Bakugou’s other shoulder to pull him off you, a head of gelled red spikes materializing behind his back, and you blinked up at Kirishima Eijirou, also known as Red Riot.
“Sorry about him,” Kirishima smiled down at you warmly, in direct contrast to the way his fingers dug into Bakugou’s shoulder. His teeth looked incredibly sharp in person, but this fact somehow failed to detract from the warmth of his friendly expression. You blinked, stunned that you were being addressed by Red Riot.
“He’s been a little worked up since the results were released, but he’s harmless,” Kirishima explained, grunting a little as he jerked Bakugou away from you. Bakugou snarled and turned to his friend, a small volley of sparks lighting off of his palm.
“I said fuck off,” he growled.
You let out a choked laugh at the idea of Bakugou Katsuki being called harmless. Just this week he’d perfected a technique where he melted clean through concrete, and you’d seen the replay of him liquifying the side of a skyscraper on the news this morning as you’d been getting your makeup done.
“Harmless, right. Definitely felt that way,” you uttered as Kirishima struggled to get a grip on Bakugou.
“I’ll fucking show you harmless,” Bakugou spat, turning back to you, sparks crackling louder in his palm. Kirishima seized his chance quickly, getting a bulky arm around Bakugou’s chest and lifting him straight off the ground. Bakugou snarled and gripped Kirishima’s forearm, letting off an explosion that would have blown anyone else’s arm clean off, but Kirishima just laughed, ignoring that the sleeve of his suit had caught fire, and hauled Bakugou back through the door.
A litany of swears filtered back through the door before it swung shut again.
Kaminari turned to face you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about that. We didn’t realize he was gonna come after you like that, though I don’t think he would have actually done anything. He’s pretty much all talk.”
You waved a hand, still stunned that Chargebolt was speaking to you.
“Uh, it’s okay,” you said. “I just...didn’t expect that kind of a reaction.”
Kaminari chuckled. “He’s usually a little more chill these days--I think he’s just pissed he’s losing to Midoriya now.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “I gotta say, though, he was even more worked up than I expected when we got here. What did you say to him?”
You grimaced, thinking back on the tense conversation. “That if he was ashamed of his ranking, he should do better.”
Kaminari choked. “Oh fuck, he must have been pissed,” he managed, before dissolving into peals of laughter. “Do better. No wonder he looked like he was gonna give himself a hernia. Mina’s gonna wet herself when I tell her.”
You shifted uncomfortably. “He thinks I altered the results to get his attention.”
Kaminari’s chuckles tapered off as he set a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Oh, he’s just saying that. He knows he’s shit at assists. He’s just salty he’s actually gotta do something about it if he wants to be number one.”
You thought back to the feeling of that hard body pressing you up against the wall, the disdain that had twisted his handsome face, the burning heat that had built up under his palms. A shiver went down your spine. It had seemed like he was a little more than salty, but if that’s how his friend wanted to put it, then fine.
“Well, thanks for the save anyway,” you said, giving Kaminari a little smile. “I’d definitely give you and Kirishima Rescue of the Year if I was pre-determining my results.”
Kaminari laughed, turning back to the door that Kirishima had dragged Bakugou through. As if on cue, a small boom sent the door swinging open a little. “Speaking of which, I’d better get back to make sure I don’t have to rescue the rescuer.”
He gave you a casual wave, then crossed to the door quickly. He hesitated at the threshold, then peeked back over his shoulder at you.
“By the way,” he said. “You might want to take a look at your dress. I, um, think Bakugou may have gotten a little carried away.”
He disappeared before you could ask what he meant, but a quick glance down clarified soon enough. Right on your abdomen, where Bakugou had pinned you against the wall, lay a scorched cut out, exactly in the shape of one large hand.
Your mouth dropped open in horror.
That fucking dick.
542 notes · View notes
specialagentsergio · 3 years ago
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love, in ink
summary: Spencer wants to do something special to commemorate your relationship. (or, reader and spencer get a couples’ tattoo)
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: tattoos & tattooing, one very light sexual reference bc i'm a hoe
a/n: i recently got my first tattoo and i’ve been absolutely obsessed with tattoos ever since, so here you go. location and design was purposefully left vague so you can imagine anything you want, but i do write reader as already having at least two tattoos.
word count: 2.9k
masterlist
Spencer’s been thinking about it for years.
Two years, eight months, and twenty days to be exact.
Looking back, four months and ten days was pretty early to be thinking of something so permanent. But he couldn’t help it—contrary to how he thinks people perceive him, he’s a romantic. A bit of a hopeless one, really.
In any case, he had been right. Almost three years after your first date, you’re still together and absolutely in love. You live together, your lives are inseparably entwined. Every day has been an affirmation of the conclusion he came to three months into your relationship—you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
So really, four months and ten days wasn’t all that early to think of getting a tattoo with you.
He doesn’t have any, but you do, and he’s always loved them. He likes running his fingers over them, pressing kisses to them, rubbing moisturizer into them, and aiding you in making sure they’re all well covered in sunscreen before you’re going to be outside for a while.
He’d never really considered getting a tattoo until he saw how much you loved yours. It’s one of your favorite forms of self-expression, you’ve told him. You say the body art helps you feel more confident, comfortable, and at home in your body. Confidence in your body—that’s definitely something he could do with. But above everything, because it’s something you love, and Spencer loves you, it’s an experience he wants to share with you.
He brings up the idea over dinner forty-five days before your three-year anniversary. You’re reading while you eat—a common occurrence in your home for the both of you. He spins his fork in his hand a few times, then carefully sets it down and says your name.
You hold up a finger to ask him to wait; he watches your eyes move across the page as you finish the paragraph you’re on. Your attention is on him as soon as you’re finished. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He’s nervous—he knows you love him, but what if you say no anyways? What if you don’t want to get a tattoo with him? They are permanent, after all. “It’s… I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he admits.
Your eyes widen when you pick up on his anxiety. “Oh god, are you breaking up with me?”
He nearly chokes on the water he’d nervously sipped. “Wha—no, no!” he rushes to assure. “I—I love you. I don’t—I don’t ever want that.”
You take in a deep breath, carefully putting your book aside. “Alright. Okay.”
“Why would you think I was breaking up with you?” he asks, concerned about the conclusion you’d jumped to. “Are… are you not happy? Are things not good between us, for you? I thought—well, think, they are. Maybe I’m wrong? I could be. I’ve never been the best at reading social clues. Have I missed something? I’m sorry if I have. I--”
“Spence, Spencer.” You interrupt his nervous rambling and reach across the table, placing your hand on top of his. “Things are great between us for me. I love you, too. You were just so serious when you said you wanted to talk, it caught me off guard. It’s… not an uncommon way for a conversation about breaking up to start.”
“Oh. Sorry. I—I didn’t realize it could come off like that,” he says quietly.
“It’s okay. As long as we’re not breaking up, I’m happy.” You give his hand a squeeze before leaning back in your chair. “So, what is it you want to talk about?”
“Right.” He squares his shoulders and wipes his damp palms on his pants. “Our three year anniversary is in forty-five days, and I was thinking to celebrate, maybe we could… get a tattoo together?”
Immediately you break into the most beautiful smile—he’s happy to have an eidetic memory when it comes to moments like this. “Really?” you ask, body tense with excitement.
“Yeah. Really,” he confirms. “I, um… I guess you’re on board, then?”
“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Spencer this is so exciting! Your first tattoo!”
He doesn’t bother to correct you about calling it his first. He’s got no plans to get more, so this could very well be his only tattoo. But he doesn’t want to dampen the moment, so instead he says, “I don’t really have any ideas for it. I just want to do it with you.”
“Wait here.” You disappear into the bedroom and return with a folded piece of notebook paper. It’s worn and wrinkled, the edges curled in. He unfolds it carefully to find the page covered in your handwriting. Some of the writing looks more rushed than other parts. Some sections are in blue ink, some are in black. It’s clear you’ve been compiling this list for quite a while.
He reads it at his normal, rapid pace, but it takes him a few moments to understand it. “Is this a list of…?”
You nod. “Tattoo ideas.” He looks up at you in… well, in awe, and you shrug. “I don’t want to just get your name on me, as nice as it is.”
“How long have you been working on this?”
“Um.” The answer seems to embarrass you a little. “A… a couple of years.”
“Years?” he repeats. “But you never said anything.”
“I didn’t want you to feel pressured into getting a tattoo,” you say. “Since they are, you know, permanent.”
“Relatively.” He looks back to the paper, running his fingertips over the indents left by the pressure of the pen. “They naturally fade with age, and can age prematurely through sun exposure.”
“Yeah. Listen, it’s okay if you don’t like any of my ideas.”
Spencer shakes his head—he likes a lot of them, but he already knows which one he wants—he knew as soon as he read it. He points. “This one.”
You bend down to see it and smile. “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”
“It’s perfect,” he says, and presses a kiss to your cheek.
---
You handle pretty much everything, contacting one of your favorite artists and pitching the idea. You’ve been tattooed by her before—specifically, she did his favorite of your tattoos. So he’s happy to have her do this one, too, putting down the deposit without hesitation. The artwork she sends back is everything he pictured and more. She’s taken the idea and brought it to life better than he could ever hope to. A few tweaks here and there, then the date is set. You’ll be getting tattooed the Friday before your anniversary.
Yours will be done first, near the end of his work day—when he arrives, you should be just about done. It’s not exactly how he imagined it happening, but you said it would be better this way. If he sits and watches you get the entire thing done, you think he’ll end up psyching himself out about his own tattoo.
“Is it really that bad?” he had asked.
You shrug. “Well, it’s pain, so it’s obviously not super fun, but it’s tolerable. You overreacted when I stubbed my toe last week, so I think it’s probably best if you’re not there watching me the entire time.”
“I don’t like seeing you in pain,” he defends sheepishly.
“Exactly. I’ll keep you updated with texts and pictures, though, okay?”
He agrees, because honestly, you’re probably right.
Getting into bed with you the night before he asks, “What does it feel like? Besides it just hurting.”
“It’s different for everyone. It also depends on where you get it.” Spencer bumps your arm with his nose, silently requesting for you to adjust your position in a way that allows him to press as much of his body as he possibly can against yours. You place your hand in his hair once he’s settled, as usual, then continue. “It does kind of… vibrate. That’s something I didn’t expect going into my first tattoo.”
“Vibrate?” he repeats. “That’s… well, I guess it makes sense, considering how tattoo machines work.”
“Mm-hmm. But I wouldn’t worry about that part if I were you. Last time I checked, vibration isn’t a sensation that bothers you.” A very slight tug on his hair. “The opposite, actually.”
The squeak he makes is involuntary. “I, um… okay. I’ll—I’ll keep that in mind.”
He’s treated to a little laugh, but then your tone changes. “Seriously, though, Spencer. It’s okay if it ends up being too much, or just not for you, and you can’t finish the tattoo. Or if you just don’t want to finish it. I won’t be mad.”
He’s taken by surprise at first. It is a worry that he’s been harboring, that all the sensory input will be too much, but he’s never said anything about it, so how did you know?
Then again, it’s you. Of course you know. You always do.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Thank you.”
---
“Hey, how can I help you?”
Spencer looks up from his phone to the woman who’s just come into the front of the shop from the back. As promised, you’d kept him updated on your tattoo process with texts and pictures.
“Um, I—I have an appointment?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he’s really nervous—you were definitely right to have him come in later than you so he doesn’t have enough time to get really worked up.
“Who’s it with?”
“Megan.”
She glances over her shoulder. “Megan is currently with someone. I can go ask her how long the wait will be.”
“No, it’s okay, she’s working on my partner. We’re—we’re getting tattoos together,” he explains.
“Oh, fun! I’ll lead you back, then.”
He follows her to an open doorway. Your body is still and unmoving; Megan is hunched over your skin. You smile when you see him. “Hi, Spencer.”
“Hey. Um, how’s it going?”
You sigh. “Well, to be honest, I think this is going to be my last tattoo.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Megan says without looking up.
The little angry huff you make before replying with “I know” makes him smile, and his nerves settle a little. “Why do I do this to myself?”
Spencer can tell it’s just a rhetorical question, asked in good humor, but he can’t stop himself from answering it regardless.
“There are many different reasons that could drive someone to get a tattoo despite the pain, including the adrenaline and endorphins the body produces in response to pain, stress relief, and the need for creative expression.”
“Stress relief?” you repeat. “I haven’t heard that one before.”
“It is a strange concept at face value. An example, though, would be getting a tattoo to mark the end of a difficult period in your life. Some people get them to symbolize personal difficulties or trauma, or to memorialize people they’ve lost. It can be a form of catharsis that helps them process painful emotions, memories, or other stressful feelings.”
Your head tilts as you take the information in. “That’s interesting.”
“Alright.” Megan leans back. “It’s done. Go take a look.”
Spencer follows you to the full length mirror. “Oh, wow,” you breathe out as soon as you see it. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Spencer.” You touch his arm. “What do you think?”
It takes him a few moments to answer because he’s been overcome with emotion. He’s overwhelmed with just how much you love and care for him to have permanently embedded a reminder of him into your skin. “It’s perfect,” he whispers.
“It is,” you agree.
You return to Megan and she takes a few photos of the tattoo, promising to text them to you, then gets started on the aftercare. “You know the drill,” she says, but still gives you the instructions for what to do as the artwork heals. He only barely registers what she’s saying—his eyes are glued to the tattoo.
“Okay, let me get everything switched out and cleaned up, and then we can start on yours, Spencer.”
“Hmm?” He tears his gaze away to find Megan looking at him. “Oh, right. Okay.” He sits off to the side with you while she disposes of supplies, replaces them with new, sterile ones, and wipes everything down.
She works fast—before he knows it, Megan has shaved and cleaned his skin, and has him in front of the mirror as she places the stencil. It takes a few tries to get it just right. He apologizes when she has to print the stencil again, but she waves him off. “It’s your tattoo and it’s going to be on you forever. I want you to be one-hundred percent happy with the placement.”
His nerves spike back up when he’s settled down and all ready to be tattooed. You sit in a chair on the opposite side of him than Megan, and when you offer your hand, he grabs it immediately.
“Breathe, baby,” you say gently. “Try not to tense up too much.”
He does try, but still jumps a little when Megan’s gloved hand touches him. “Sorry,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a little nervous.”
“Oh, no, you’re fine,” she reassures. “I won’t start until you’re ready.”  
“I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Okay. I’ll start with just one small line.”
It’s a strange sensation, unlike anything he’s felt before, but it’s… not horrible. He’s been scratched by cats in the past, and it feels kind of like that, but hot. There’s the vibrating you had mentioned, too.
“How was that?” Megan asks.
“Not so bad,” he answers honestly.
“That’s great. I’ll keep going then. Settle in. Just let me know if you start feeling funny or if you need a break, alright?” At his nod, she goes to work, and he switches his attention to you. He knows he shouldn’t, that it’ll probably come back to bite him in the ass, but he can’t stop himself from teasing you.
“I don’t know why you were complaining earlier,” he says in his best innocent voice, with his best innocent expression. “It’s not that bad.”
The way your mouth drops open just a little bit is adorable, and so is the noise of disbelief that follows. “Yeah, okay. Tell me that again at the end.”
“I will,” he replies, mentally adding probably not to the sentence.
You roll your eyes and let go of his hand to sort through your things. You give him a lollipop when you find it.
“What’s this for?” Suckers aren’t really his favorite candy.
“Your adrenaline is probably going to drop now that the tattoo has started and I don’t want you to pass out,” you say. “The sugar will help prevent you from getting lightheaded.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
The tattoo goes well overall, he thinks. It’s definitely painful, but like you said, it’s tolerable. He’s certainly felt worse. Near the end, though, he really starts hurting, and a grimace slips across his face.
“She’s almost done,” you reassure. He hasn’t been looking at it, but you have. “Also, what was that you saying earlier?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “It’s not even the needle, you know. It’s the paper towels.”
“A lot of people say that,” Megan says. “Just a few more minutes left.”
He spends those last few minutes questioning every decision he’s made in his life that has led him to this moment, and swearing to himself that he’s never going to do this again. But then it’s over and he’s looking at in the mirror, and it’s suddenly like the past five minutes never happened.
Spencer loves it. He absolutely adores it. Not just the art itself, but how it looks on his body and how it’s making him feel.
“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask, making him jump a little. He’d been so fixated on the tattoo that he didn’t notice you joining him.
He ponders for a moment to find the right words. “I’m beginning to understand why you like doing this so much.”
You grin. “It’s great, huh?”
“It is, yeah. I kind of want to touch it; is that weird?”
“No, but don’t,” you reply. “It’s an open wound.”
“I know.” He looks back at Megan. “This is perfect. Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she says. “Thank you for trusting me with your first tattoo.”
When he drags himself away from the mirror, she goes over aftercare with him, and he listens more intently this time. A few things are going to be a little inconvenient, he thinks, but it’s more than worth the trade off.
You take his hand as you leave the shop. “I’m so happy that I got to do that with you.”
He squeezes your hand back. “Me too.”
You reach the car, but before he can move towards the passenger side, you pull him in close. “I love you.”
His free hand comes up to cradle your cheek. “I love you, too.”
You kiss him, soft and sweet. “Happy three years,” you say when you pull back.
“Here’s to three more?” he offers, a little nervous, but mostly hopeful.
Your smile leaves no room for doubt. “I like the sound of that.”
---------------
hit up my inbox if you wanna talk tattoos bc i fucking love them. what do you see spencer getting with his partner?
general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​
145 notes · View notes
sukirichi · 4 years ago
Text
suki’s restaurant is now CLOSED! please read updates after the “keep reading” tab!
thank you for the milestone! it’s really such a huge gift to me since i just started posting jjk content here ten days ago (◕ᴗ◕✿) as a small token of appreciation, all requests are now open and there’s a variety of ingredients you can choose from!
masterlist !
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meal guides:
🥞 breakfast - fics longer than 1k word counts
🍙 lunch (headcanons)
🍷 wine (nsfw content)
🍰 snack (timestamps, imagines & drabbles)
🍌 thirsts (ramble with me about our smexy thoughts!) for the brainrots
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PLEASE READ:
— this event is officially closed. my asks are only open for the previous anons who i’ve asked to do a redo for any mistakes/restrictions in their previous orders.
— new requests will no longer be accepted. or maybe it will because i’m easily swayed with great ideas but it will no longer be part of the milestone event.
— my writing schedule is only during wednesdays, fridays, and the weekends. some works will be written in advance and scheduled to post daily (if possible.)
— please be patient! as you can see, i’ve got a lot of requests, and i really want your meals to be as pleasing and delicious as possible, so please please be patient. i’m training for med school and i’ve got other responsibilities too. if you want to decline a request if you can’t wait for it, that’s fine. 
— i’m human so...my mind can change any minute, and i could no longer be interested in a certain idea. if that happens, i’ll reply to your ask that i won’t be serving your meal anymore even if it’s here on the list below. it sounds kind of rude, but i wouldn’t want to write something i’m not interested in for the sake of pleasing others, because if i write something i don’t enjoy/am not that interested in anymore, then the meal won’t turn out as good had i been passionate for it. it’s going to be done out of forced productivity and the food might taste bad :<
— the last batch of accepted meals will be marked as ✿
— favorites will be marked as ★. because they’re the ideas i find most interesting and the ones i adore the most, they will take longer to be completed. i really want to give my ultimate best on that and just UNLEASH everything i have in me.
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how to order!
✦ choose from the ingredients below
✦ choose your own sugar and spice!
✦ choose from the meal guides above! please specify if you want your request to be
✦ send in your request by dropping it on my ask box!
✦ be as descriptive as you want in your request, i want to make a good meal for you!
✦ example of how to order: 
— breakfast: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 for gojo 
— alternative: 9+1+1+song (optional) + dialogue of choice (optional)
— alternative:  breakfast with wine: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 + spice 1 for gojo
— optional: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 + spice 1 for toji + cookie “starboy by the weeknd” and “you wanna fuck me so bad”
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ingredients : au (max of 2 picks!)
CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE
✦ sugar daddy au
✦ arranged marriage au
✦ accidental pregnancy au
✦ high school au
✦ university au
✦ med! student au / doctor! au
✦ lawyer au
✦ detective au
✦ ceo au
✦ sugar mommy au
✦ neighbours au
✦ bed sharing au
✦ roommates au
✦ co-workers au
✦ body swap au
✦ soulmate au
✦ fake dating au 
✦ marriage for convenience au 
✦ bodyguard au
✦ assassin au
✦ married au 
✦ love triangle au
✦ mutual pining au
✦ unrequited love au
✦ meet drunk au
✦ meet cute au
✦ siblings’ friend au
✦ friend’s sibling au
✦ established relationship au
✦ breakup au
✦ barista au / coffee shop au
✦ teacher x student au
✦ royalty au
✦ rentboy au 
✦ camboy/camgirl au
✦ ex au
✦ mistaken identity
✦ fuck buddies au
✦ bartender au
✦ tattoo artist au
✦ apocalypse au
✦ playboy au
✦ stoner au
✦ love at first sight au
✦ hate sex au
✦ sleepover au
✦ worthy opponent au
✦ age gap au
✦ loss of virginity au
✦ gangster au
✦ mafia au
✦ bet au
✦ rebound au
✦ drunk hookup au 
✦ bad boy good girl au
✦ amnesia au
✦ reincarnation au
✦ one of them is famous 
✦ one of them doesn’t know the other exists
✦ one of them is oblivious 
✦ one of them is taken already 
✦ polar opposites au
✦ met at the subway au
✦ library au
✦ football player au
✦ canon au (jjk canon)
✦ send me your own au!
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sugar: tropes (max of 2 picks!)
CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE
✦ best friends to lovers
✦ enemies to lovers
✦ lovers to enemies
✦ strangers to lovers
✦ mutual pining 
✦ unrequited love
✦ forbidden relationship
✦ partners in crime
✦ slow burn
✦ send me your own trope!
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spice: (for nsfw requests) (max of 3 picks!)
CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE
— here are the kinks/sexual content i’m comfortable writing about. there’s still a lot of kinks idk about so if it’s not here, please feel free to include the spice in the ask!
✦ breeding kink
✦ size kink
✦ stockholm syndrome
✦ age play
✦ agoraphilia (public place kink)
✦ somnophilia (consensual sex where the other is asleep)
✦ breath play
✦ dumbification
✦ cum play
✦ begging kink
✦ praising kink
✦ thigh riding
✦ collaring
✦ face sitting
✦ 34+35
✦ dacryphilia
✦ disciplining
✦ dirty talking
✦ exhibitionism
✦ role playing
✦ gagging
✦ watersports
✦ send me your own kink!
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cherry on top : characters
CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE
— characters i can write anything for (nsfw & sfw)
: gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, choso, noritoshi kamo, ryoumen sukuna, nanami kento, okkotsu yuta
— characters i can only write sfw for
: itadori yuuji, inumaki toge
— characters i want to write for but don’t think i can write well (nsfw & sfw)
: suguru geto, naoya zenin
— characters i’m MOST eager to write simp for
: fushiguro toji, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, choso, naoya zenin
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additional cookie!
✦ send me a song as a story inspo!
✦ send me your dialogue! (ex. “shut up and kiss me.”)
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restaraunt rules : please read!
— i do not write about yandere, stalker, pregnant! reader (unless it’s still until the early age where the belly is still small), non-con, and heavily canon requests 
— nsfw content i won’t write about: period sex, blood play, temperature play, pegging, male characters dressing up as female, monster fucking (sorry, sukuna won’t be getting four arms if you want nsfw for him), bestiality, incest, hypnosis (non-con related)
— not exactly a restriction, but please keep in mind that y/n is still a character for me as the writer. i may or may not add in features that even though isn’t explicit, could be something not suitable for everyone. phrases like, “he peered down at her” sounds neutral enough, but could still be implied that the reader is shorter than the anime character. it’s difficult to write a 100% neutral fic that won’t imply appearance one way or another. if i’ve written anything offensive/upsetting, feel free to tell me about it. i’ll do my best to keep it neutral.
— the reader will always be female bodied in nsfw content
— please be patient! i want to write fics the requester enjoys so i’m going to take my time in preparing your meal!
— i may or may not cook your meal 100% according to your request. depending on my comfort upon the idea, i may have to tweak a detail or two.
— i can refuse your request if i don’t want to write about it for personal or other reasons. i’ll let you know beforehand.
— wine will take longer to be served!
— i will announce if a trope/au/character is no longer open for requests. i feel like some ingredients will be quite common amongst requesters and i don’t want to write for the same thing over and over again. same goes in the manner that if you have a similar request to another, it’ll be fused into one idea/meal.
— if your request contains offensive/uncomfortable content, i won’t even respond back to you. i’ll immediately delete your ask.
— if you still don’t get or are confused by the guides, send me an ask! i’ll happily guide you!
— this event is now closed. i will temporarily be closing my ask box so i don’t get flooded. i’ll open it again tonight for anyone who has questions or just want to drop a message!
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hmm...i’m still not sure how to order for my meal.
✧ what if the story/scenario i want isn’t included in the choices above?
— as i’ve stated, please feel free to request whatever you want! the choices are there to give people an idea what they’d like to see, but if it’s not there, you can still request for it as stated in the “send me an au/trope/kink you want!”
✧ what if i don’t have any ingredient, spice, or sugar i want but a song inspo anyway?
— that’s also fine, but it would be preferred if you’re descriptive so your meal could be delivered better and faster. in this case though, i’ll just have to get creative!
✧ what if i want more than one character in the request?
— having others included in the request is fine, but as much as possible, i can only write a maximum of two main characters (the reader excluded)
✧ what if i want to request for the ones you want to write for but you don’t think you can pull it off well?
— just a heads up! i would love to write for them, but because i’m not entirely caught up in the manga, the characters mentioned above aren’t ones i know very well yet. 
✧ not exactly regarding the meal, but i’ve sent you requests from last week. would you still be writing them?
— i’ve received several requests when my bio states that requests are closed. however, because the ideas are actually really precious and i know i’d have fun writing them, i’d still write about them. i just cannot guarantee you’ll receive your meal soon since my requests were closed when you sent them. 
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UPDATES:
Day One: breeding kink, size kink, thigh riding, married au, best friends to lovers is NO LONGER AVAILABLE.
Day Two: established relationship au, mutual pining, dumbification, and gojo satoru is NO LONGER AVAILABLE. to the asks that were received before this update, you may check on the requests accepted whether you made it to the cut or not. i’ll update this later. the restaurant will also reach out to you if one of your requested ingredients/spice/sugar/cherry on top did not make the cut. my asks are still open, so please tweak your requests a little bit to what is available! 
Day Two Update 2: Restaurant is CLOSED! spice 6 (somnophilia) is also no longer available! Check the requests accepted to see if you’ve made the cut, the latest and last accepted requests will be marked as ✿! 
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requests accepted:
✦ fushiguro megumi
megumi really likes reader and gojo, yuuji, nobara helps him confess
shy megumi who is really flustered and shy around his crush  meals fused into one. read here: not shy
★🥞🍷 40 (tattoo artist au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 2,12,13 (size kink, praise kink, thigh riding) + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy read here: work of art
(★🥞🍷 5 (university au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 12, 3 (praise kink, stockholm syndrome) + virgin megumi) i’ve been outlining this for days but idk...i just can’t seem to form something out of it. i still have it saved but idk if i can still finish, i’ll try my best though.   it’s just challenging to write, sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE
🥞 + 33 (royalty au) + 1 (best friends to lovers)
🍷 + 27 (siblings’ friend au) + 1, 11, 19 (breeding kink, dumbification, dirty talking) + feral megumi (feral megumi supremacy) read here: unstoppable
🥞 + 3, 38 (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi MEAL ORDER 9 & 7 FUSED read here: happy little accidents
★ vampire au + 55 (reincarnation au) + 6 (somnophilia) + vampire markings + blood drinking + nursing megumi...or him nursing you? hmm? (STRUGGLE PAANIK) read here: scarlet
✿ 🍰🍷 23, 38 (mutual pining au, fuck buddies au) might fuse it with request 7  MEAL ORDER 9 & 7 FUSED read here: happy little accidents
✦ nanami kento
jealous nanami with oblivious reader + gojo annoying nanami making nanami confess read here: a little push
comfort & angst fic where reader dates gojo but gojo cheats so she breaks down, leaves him, and nanami comforts reader  it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :(
★🥞 + 33 (royalty au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) read here: violet
🥞🍷 + 21 (married au) +  4 (strangers to lovers) + 2, 12 (size kink, praising kink) MEAL U
🥞🍷 + 23 (mutual pining au) + 1 (best friends to lovers) + 1 (breeding kink) read here: like crashing waves
ingredient 6 (med! student au / doctor! au)  + sugar 7 (forbidden relationship) + spices 12 (praising kink) + dacryphilia read here: overtime
✦ noritoshi kamo
fem!dom reader where nori defends his wife from the elders so she gives him the best night + blowjobs + overstimulation + sub! househusband nori + tit sucking spspss (MEAL UNAVAILABLE)
🍷 + 18 (marriage for convenience au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 18 (disciplining)
🥞 + 21 (married au) + 1,13 (breeding kink, thigh riding) meals fused into one, breeding kink is no longer included | read here: i know
🥞🍷 + 20, 58 (assassin! reader, oblivious! noritoshi) + 13 (thigh riding) + love at first sight + “wait, are you flirting with me?” + “have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.” (BIG BRAIN ENERGY) read here: illusion
✦ gojo satoru
serotonin boost for that lovely anon gojo simp 9487 (i’m going to make this special for you because i love you anon) i was thinking maybe gojo comforts his uni!student s/o? just fluff and some cutesy tootsy to relieve your stress! MEAL FUSED WITH SEVEN
Tokyo by Leat’eq + ice cream shop! au with limited cat themed ice cream, you need to wear cat ears to go order + “nyaa!” read here
🍷 + 44 (hate sex au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 12 (praising kink) read here: divine
🥞🍷  + 29 (established relationship au) + 5 (mutual pining) no longer included + 6 (somnophilia) + fused with other request that isn’t listed here read here: sweet angel
✿ 🥞🍷 + 29 (established relationship au) + 12,15 (praising kink, face sitting) + reader runs into awful ex and gets worshipped by gojo like they deserve (queen tingz) + gojo comfort read here: breathless
(✿ 🥞🍷 + 12 (bed sharing au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 19 (dirty talk) + magdalena bay : killshot + jujutsu tech goes on a trip, gojo and reader ends up sharing rooms and a twin bed)  i’ve been outlining this for days but idk...i just can’t seem to form something out of it. i still have it saved but idk if i can still finish, i’ll try my best though.   it’s just challenging to write, sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE
★✿ 50,1 (mafia au, sugar daddy au) + spice 8,12 (dumbification, praising kink) wow butterfly anon POPPED OFF | read here: earned it
✿ 33 (royal au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 11 (praising kink) read here: fall from grace
✦ choso my MAN
Tokyo by Leat’eq + ice cream shop! au with limited cat themed ice cream, you need to wear cat ears to go order + “nyaa!” + flustered choso + “onii-chan” read here
★🥞 + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + optional wine read here: easy
soulmate au + forbidden relationship MEAL UNAVAILABLE
✦ inumaki toge
🥞 + 15 (body swap au) + 1 (best friends to lovers) read here: total opposites
🥞 + 10 (sugar mommy au) + 4 (strangers to lovers) BIG BRAIN ENERGY THIS ONE (STRUGGLE PAANIK)  it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :(
★🥞 + 64 (canon au) + 5 (mutual pining) + sensitive first kiss with inumaki, them trapped in a room + yuuji as matchmaker uwu + WALL PIN KISS YES SIR + basically hot af inumaki...debating whether i should turn into wine HMMM read here: delicate
✦ naoya zenin 🙄
naoya putting reader back in their place, LONG SCHLONG CLUB read here: acquainted
✿ deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink (DAMN THIS ONE GOT ME TINGLING, its going to be consensual tho, we all have consent kink in this house) read here: true gift
✦ okkotsu yuta 
🍷 + 53 (bad boy good girl au) + 8,10 (dumbification) read here: good for you
★🥞🍷 + 65 (both are oblivious) + 5,9 (mutual pining, slow burn) + 6,9,16 (somnophilia, cum play, 34+35) MEAL UNAVAILABLE
✿ 🥞🍷 58, 65 (one of them is oblivious, hanahaki disease on reader) + 5,9 (mutual pining, slow burn) + 12 (praising kink + cockwarming) + clumsy first time sex MEAL UNAVAILABLE
✦ itadori yuuji 
🥞 + 21 (married au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) (STRUGGLE PAANIK) it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE
✦ toji fushiguro
★✿ toxic toji YES + enemies to greater enemies + toji railing reader in front of someone they’re seeing because he doesn’t want to see you happy but he doesn’t want to “keep” you either (LOL this is so toji, might tweak a little bit) read here: personal disaster
age gap au + size kink, somnophilia read here: shhh
✦ ryoumen sukuna
🥞 + 2 (arranged marriage) + 2 (enemies to lovers) read here: black magic
55 (reincarnation au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) no longer included + unrequited love + home from war inspired read here: home from war: the ending
✿ 🍷 + 38 + master x servant + degrading, edging, begging (oooh degrading aint my kink but let’s see let’s see) MEAL UNAVAILABLE
236 notes · View notes
Text
We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 5)
[Donnie x fem reader]
sfw, chapt. 4 here
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Just as Donnie had predicted, the night air was cold on his scales. Right upon leaving, Mikey brought up to Leo going in pairs this time, to cover more ground, he said. An extra thorough patrol. Donnie honestly couldn't make up his mind and so by then he was flying by the seat of his pants, not objecting to Mikey's plan, but also not agreeing. He doubted Leo would be convinced, anyway. They didn't do duo patrols that often. 
"I was thinking we could split up this time, you know, me and Donnie, you and Raph?" suggested Mikey, closing the manhole behind himself.
"I thought you liked it when we're all together," Leo commented. 
Donnie shot Mikey a look, trying to tell him to cool it, but he shrugged, "Come on, it'll be like some kind of training or...something," Mikey went behind Leo and shook his shoulders, "aren't you into that?"
Internally, Donnie facepalmed. Unless he actively tried to stop this, it was going to happen, wasn't it? One way or another, probably; it all depended on how Leo was feeling that night. Raph was indifferent. He didn't care whether they were all together or in pairs, just that he got to flex his combat skills some. If he could, he'd go out and do it on his own, even. 
Leo looked around, considering Mikey's suggestion. "Okay," he agreed, eventually. "You and Donnie take East, Raph and I will cover the usual route and then—" 
"No," Mikey interjected. Both Leo and Raph's brows furrowed as they stared at their brother. He motioned toward Donnie, "Me and Donnie can take that, you guys just go on ahead," he smiled. "You know I like checking out the skatepark!" 
"No skating," Leo said. 
"I'll just watch whoever's there, then." He pouted.
Raph snorted. "Yeah, make sure he actually pays attention, Donnie." 
"As usual," Donnie sighed, and looked at Leo. 
"Well, what do you think, Don?" 
The decision is up to me? 
Turns out it was his all along, but he wanted to feign innocence in saying that Mikey was the one to drag him through it. Easier to not take responsibility and let life happen at you rather than making a conscious effort, at times. 
"I guess we can do that," Donnie answered reluctantly. He could have said no. Why didn't he? In the corner of his eye, he saw Mikey beam, giving him a discreet thumbs up. 
"Alright, meet back here by four AM, and if either of you run into big trouble, call. We'll come," Leo said. "Same for us."
"Yeah, we'll holler for ya," added Raph dismissively. "And nah, a big dog doesn't count as trouble, Mikey." He sounded gruff, but in actuality, he was still chuckling to himself over that years later. After they got over being annoyed that he had called them from that far while they were on a supply run. Chased by a junkyard dog—some of their least favorite parts about visiting those places. 
"Hey, it was mean! And way fast!" Mikey protested as they parted ways, them taking to the East and red and blue the opposite way. 
As per course, Donnie and Mikey took their normal route, and his heart skipped a beat when they met the scene of their last run-in with criminals. Not because of them, no, but because of the familiar apartment building that was now more intimidating than he'd expected. They circled the area like they normally would have, but Mikey came to stop them on a roof just opposite of the complex, eyes searching each window. Obscured by the height of the building, he sat on the edge. 
Donnie didn't know what to do with himself. He stood back a good ten feet, somehow paranoid of being spotted even though he knew it was not possible from their angle in the complex. Mikey was comfortable, and weirdly at peace as he sat there quietly on the edge, assumed to be waiting for his brother to make a move. But Donnie was stuck in place. 
"What are you waiting for, D?" 
The sudden question broke him from his stillness. It was true; he didn't know what he was waiting for. 
"I—I don't know what you want me to do, what are you thinking?" Donnie asked in return, stepping back a little further as he noticed movement behind the curtains of a lit window. 
"Get your phone out and talk to her," Mikey told him, waving his hand at the apartments. "What did we come out here for if you aren't gonna make it right, bro? Do some smooth talk, tell her you're sorry and you wanna get to know her better…"
"This is absolutely a ridiculous plan," Donnie said, though as if his hands had thought of their own, they reached for his phone, and a moment later he was looking at the messages. Still nothing. Radio silence on both of their ends. How would he approach it? "I'm sorry I went from hot to cold so fast. Please talk to me again." Too strong. "Sorry, can we get a redo?" Too casual. "I'd like to apologise for being a jerk." Okay, that's just not good. Reconciling was going to be as difficult as he'd thought it would be. 
Mikey came over and looked at his phone screen and his brother floundering, thumbs stuttering across the keyboard, deleting the text, retyping it over and over again for perfection where he wasn't going to find any–
"I got this, let Love Doctor Mikey handle it," he said, taking the phone right from Donnie's hand. 
"You've never been in a relationship, not even talked to anyone, how would you—" 
Mikey shushed him. Donnie was going to snatch the phone away but he spun around, draping himself over his shoulder.  "Just let me work my magic, dude!"  
Donnie couldn't watch; he had to turn away. How sure he was that Mikey was going to say something uncalled for, something weird or bone-headed, and the wait was killing him. What if she didn't even respond? Was that better than doing damage control for Mikey's shenanigans? For someone usually decisive, he could not for the life of him make up his mind about what he wanted at that very instance. 
The phone vibrated. 
Mikey cheered. "Got her on the line, now you just gotta reel 'em in," he grinned, handing the phone back to Donnie. 
"Hey :/
I thought you wanted to stop?"
Mikey kept trying to lean over to catch a glimpse of the screen, but Donnie felt that it was a personal moment, so without skipping a beat, he activated the electric current in his staff and poked it behind him into his brother's plastron. 
"Fine," Mikey whined. He stepped in one last time, "But don't hold out on me here!" 
Trying to find an graceful way to patch this all up, Donnie replied: 
"I apologise for that, and I know you probably want an explanation, but it's hard to explain
Moment of weakness? 
I guess... 
Anyway. I'm not expecting you to suddenly be cool with it, if you don't want to talk to me I understand 
Sorry."
Mikey noticed Donnie's dismal expression and he mellowed out accordingly, standing close but not putting a hand on him, nor saying anything. He didn't watch the phone, but Donnie's face and slumped shoulders. He'd thought it would have been going better by now. 
"I won't lie, I'm still confused 
But if you're going through something, I'm right here for you
Don't worry about it. Just don't give me a spook like that again, I thought it was me  
lol 
Okay it's not funny but this is a little awkward" 
Donnie's heart sank reading that. He'd made her feel bad, even question herself over his problem. Never had he wanted to make her think it was her that drove him off. 
"No, no, it was never you 
Again, I can't really explain…
Is it okay if we just try this again? 
I understand if not."
"Jeez Bo, I already said it's alright 
I WANT to keep talking to you, you're cool
So let's forget about it, yeah? 
Friends again :) "
And like that, his heart took a leap. A smile slowly spread across his face, and without looking away from the screen, grabbed Mikey by the shell, pulling him toward. "Look at this!" he exclaimed. 
"You see it too?" he quirked, pointing at the apartment complex across the road. 
Donnie paused and looked over his shoulder at him, "What?" 
On one of the balconies sat a lone girl, on her phone, and if Mikey looked hard enough, he could see a smile. Definitely a smile. 
"Ah!" yelped Donnie quietly. He scurried back against the wall of the attached building behind him, as far as he could. 
"Dude! Come on, this is perfect!" Mikey nudged him, and when he didn't hop up onto his feet, dragged his brother near the edge of the roof. Donnie was boneless but unwilling, his mind stuck on the fact that she thought he was cool. Him, cool. Was he? She didn't know even the half of it. She didn't know he was a martial artist, technically a genius, and that he'd gone against some of the worst the city had to offer. And without that, she still thought he was cool, as an average guy. 
As average as what my circumstances will allow me to be. 
Feet dragging all the way, Donnie's stomach did a flip as they met the ledge, peering carefully over it in a crouch. They were prone, watching the girl who was completely unaware of their presence. He was, simply put, enraptured, for a second there, studying her features as much as he could from where they were. The details of her face were not distinct due to the distance, but he could tell she was both nothing like he'd imagined and so much more. For once, he didn't immediately question the validity of the situation; there was no "it could be a coincidence", or "it's too unlikely that she would be out just as they were". Not right away. But it hit him when Mikey spoke. 
"You're so lucky, D," he said wistfully. "Really." Head rested on his forearm, his gaze fell on not one thing, but the whole scene, a somber smile gracing him. He was excited, happy for his brother. But deep down, Donnie knew that though Mikey wasn't envious of him in a resentful way, it had to have stung to witness such a thing unfold for someone not himself. Their youngest had always craved connection the most. He looked away from the girl, "I wasn't gonna let you throw away an awesome chance, was I?"
Releasing a heavy breath, Donnie crawled away from the edge, but his eyes remained on that balcony. It was weird to watch someone who didn't know they were being watched. Not in that context. 
"I...guess I may be," Donnie responded. But it would only get more complicated from there. His phone vibrated, breaking his trance, and the message he found read:
"Anyways, with that out of the way, what are you doing?"
Just watching you from a roof, nothing much, Donnie thought. 
"Currently out enjoying the night" 
"Isn't it kinda cold?" 
"What about you?" 
He knew what he meant, because he was there watching her as a chilled breeze rolled through, but she told him she wasn't doing anything. Only relaxing and talking to him. 
It took him a few minutes to get his bearings. To know that he now had tangible evidence that she was a girl, an ordinary person, and that said person really thought he was cool. Worth the effort. He felt exceedingly difficult for not being able to give her a rightful explanation, but comforted by the fact that he wasn't being demanded of one. He felt light. Almost weightless, with Mikey next to him instead of his other cynical, skeptical brothers. For a moment, he had nothing to worry about. 
From across the roof, he could still see the yawn escape her mouth. Probably an indicator that it was time to wrap things up. He didn't want her to stay up too late; it was already odd that she was up at such an hour, almost two AM, but glad nonetheless. 
"Are you tired?"
"Yeah
I think I'm gonna hit the hay
So goodnight, Bo
Talk to you later (☞゚ヮ゚)☞" 
She got up, leaning on the railing which faced them. 
"I want to stay up with you but—"
Donnie sucked in a sharp breath as she looked up, just barely able to see from underneath the balcony above her. He snagged the strap on Mikey's shell and yanked him back with him away from the edge of the roof, taking cover behind the wall. 
"Shit," hissed Donnie, "do you think she saw us?" 
These shells, they make us look so big! 
"Relax, bro, even if she did, it was only a little bit. Besides, we could be anyone from this far, they don't have pigeon vision." 
"You mean 'eagle vision'?" 
"They're both birds!"
Donnie deadpanned and peeked over the wall. She'd gone in. Three minutes later, he hadn't gotten any texts yet about something weird on the rooftops, so he could finally relax, groaning lightly. "Too close," he breathed out, "Mikey, we need to go, Leo's going to notice we're not back in time if we don't hurry up and get the rest of this route done."
"Already on it," he whooped, vaulting onto the next roof.
As Donnie was scaling the wall of the attached building, he felt his phone vibrate, and curious, he checked it one last time before getting on his way.
"One question before I go
You ever see stuff you can't explain but even if you did you'd sound crazy?"
Oh, no.
"No, I don't."
Chapter 6
210 notes · View notes
blahkugo · 4 years ago
Text
Biggest Fan
DABI x HAWKS x READER
Music! AU inspired by THIS photo set...or, the one in which Dabi, Hawks, & Endeavor are a famous rap group, and the reader gets VIP treatment. 
NSFW begins after the ~~~ for those of you who don’t care for plot! 
Warnings: 18+!, SMUT, cursing, threesome, rough sex (? not sure what your definitions of the word are but they do be slapping you around…), just pure filth basically 
You’ve been squealing into the phone for the past ten minutes. Honestly, you can’t believe the words coming from your best friend’s mouth, even after asking her to repeat them a fourth time. 
“Babe, even if you weren’t my agent, I would have found a way to get you in,” Rumi scoffs into the speaker, unphased by your relentless questioning. Though she’s always been a bit impatient when it comes to your antics, she knows how big of a deal this is to you. “How could I not? You talk my ear off about them.”
“I owe you for the next thirty years!” Your screech turns the heads of a few other customers, and you can feel the irritation radiating off the glare of one particularly peeved woman seated near you. But who cares? You’re too excited for a few middle-aged drags to dampen your mood. 
“Remember what you just said the next time I try to skip out on an interview,” her laugh echoes loudly; she must be at the studio.
“Yes! Whatever you want, Twinkle Toes. It’s yours!” She begins to grumble at the use of the old nickname,
“How many times have I told you not to-” You catch the scowling woman turning towards you.
“Got-to-go-text-me-the-details, love you!” The parting phrase comes out a hurried ramble. Unbothered as you are by a few stares, direct confrontation definitely isn’t worth the trouble. You’re out of the bistro and in your car before anyone can open their mouth. 
The cup of iced coffee you press to your flushed face does nothing to curb the elation threatening to bubble over from inside you. Rumi really has outdone herself this time. Being that she’s both a long-time best friend and client of yours, you know just how hard she’s been working to book a job of this caliber. Images of the two of you icing sore feet after hours of grueling practices spring to mind, making your bad ankle throb. If you could tell your younger selves who they are now— an internationally acclaimed dancer and a talent manager with a novel’s worth of influential clients— they wouldn’t believe it. And the work was paying off in more ways than one. Soon, Rumi will be making her music video debut...and you’ll actually be in the presence of your favorite artists, Suns of Icarus. 
The rap trio’s been all you can talk about forever. No, like really, forever. Even back at arts school, Rumi had to talk you out of choreographing dances to their music practically once a week. You can still hear her promising you that your 70 year-old ballet instructor did not, in fact, want to see you pirouette to a song that's chorus consists of Hawks saying the word “pussy” over and over again. Usually the memory would drown you in embarrassment (especially considering the story is Rumi’s favorite icebreaker), but now even that can’t hamper your mood. You sigh cheerily, pulling into your reserved parking space. Tomorrow, you’ll be surrounded by your idols.
-
“Are you sure I look okay?” You ask for the third time in an hour, tugging at the hem of your silk tank. Though you’re wearing your favorite suit, you can’t help but feel out of place in the large dressing trailer. After all, it’s  not every day that you accompany your clients on their gigs. Your job is getting them the gigs, and usually you prefer it that way.
“(Y/N), quit stressing! If you looked any hotter the guys would have a heart attack,” your best friend bellows loudly. “Doesn’t she look smokin’?” She questions the hairdresser who, apart from a nod and reassuring smile, you can’t quite understand over the sound of the blow dryer. “Who’s the bad bitch that got me this job in the first place? Oh right, that was you,” she pumps a manicured finger towards you to echo the claim, “so woman up!” 
She doesn’t put her finger down until she sees your face soften. It’s not like she’s wrong. “Professional smooth-talker” is basically your job description. In Hollywood people are afraid of you, the woman who can make or break a career. Who are you to let a couple of talents get you riled up? You allow your body to relax in your seat. Even if those talents are the group of boys that you’ve been crushing on since you were 16. Recalling that fact has you scrambling out of the trailer, face beet-red yet again.
“I’m going to grab something from the coffee cart. Be right back!” The door shuts behind you with a loud thud. Rumi should be spending this time going over the routine, not talking you down from the ledge you’re attempting to throw yourself off of over a few stupid guys. Besides, you’ll probably receive a polite greeting at best. The world’s favorite musicians have more important things to do than indulge your fantasies. 
Having iced coffee and a bagel in your hands is all you need to feel the tension in your shoulders dissipate and your smile return; truly a working woman’s comfort meal. The spring in your step is restored as you walk back to the trailer, too entranced by the savory goodness to properly hear the voice that hollers from your right. You do, however, hear the scolding that follows the catcall,
“How many times have I told you not to hit on people that work for us, birdbrain.” Your entire body swings towards the familiar nickname and a piece of bagel nearly falls from your mouth. Not even a few feet away, Dabi holds your favorite vocalist in a one-handed headlock, attempting to ruffle the blonde’s hair while keeping a cigarette balanced between his own fingertips. 
“Not the hair, man! The stylist’s already had to touch it up twice today!” Hawks’ shrieks are muffled beneath the bicep of his counterpart. 
“Go apologize,” The lanky man shoves Hawks towards the spot your feet are now cemented to. Though he’s reprimanding him, you swear you detect a hint of amusement in his tattooed face. “I’m sorry about him, sweetheart,” he calls, lips contorting into a smirk that should be illegal. You feel your thighs press together on their own; the situation isn’t made any better by the pretty boy walking towards you, hands threading through his golden locks in an effort to fix the havoc Dabi wrought. 
“My bad,” he flashes you an award-winning set of teeth you’ve previously only had the pleasure of viewing through your laptop screen; somehow they’re even pearlier in person. The glimmer of a tiny gem catches your eye and you notice one is sealed to his canine, only dazzling you further. “I meant what I said though, you’re gorgeous,” his hand moves from his own hair to twist a piece of yours between his fingertips. The lack of boundaries leaves you feeling stupefied, but he doesn’t let up, going as far as wrapping the lock around his polished index finger. God, even his hands are pretty...What if they were trailing the inside of your thigh and—  Your mind shouts at you to behave, a fruitless undertaking when the object of your adolescent desires is touching you ever-so softly. 
“Um- I- Thank you?” The stuttered phrase comes out confused. Where the hell is the professional smooth-talker side of you when you need her? “I’m Rumi’s agent and uh- I-I’m a big fan!” Heat blazes through your face and chest; you’d slap yourself for the outburst if they weren’t here. 
“Oh, really? She told us all about you!” He waves a hand towards Dabi. “Oi! Matches! She’s not an assistant, she’s Rumi’s manager!” The gloomier man extinguishes his cigarette before making his way towards the two of you, smug expression wavering only when he glances at Hawks. A short wheeze leaves the blonde when his chest is smacked lightly by his partner. 
“I told you not to call me that.” Dabi turns his attention towards you. “(Y/N), right?” He sticks a hand out to shake and you quite literally drop the remains of the bagel to reciprocate the motion, a move that makes you redden and him snicker. “Rumi told us you’re our biggest fan,” his sly grin tells you your loud-mouthed best friend had probably spilled too much information their way. Oh, she’s definitely going to get an earful later. 
He doesn’t drop eye contact the entire time he’s speaking to you, and you find yourself enchanted by the deep sea-blue of his irises. You would literally swim in those pools if given the chance. Only when Hawks clears his throat do you realize you’re still shaking his friend’s inked hand. After dropping it rapidly, you urge yourself into composure out of pure distress. 
“Sorry, I’m honestly a bit starstruck. I’m sure Rumi told you how much I love your music,” you finally sound a bit like your usual self. 
“She didn’t really mention our music, did she Matches?” Hawks chirps, dodging Dabi’s fist this time.
“No, I don’t think she did, dipshit,” he spits the insult through gritted teeth as a final warning. “But I do remember her telling us something about being your first two crushes...or was it your ‘sexual awakening’? I can’t really remember the term she used…” Your knees almost buckle at the obvious teasing, and you silently swear to murder Rumi when she’s done shooting this video. It’s evident that the mockery is highly amusing to them— the glints in their eyes border on ravenous. 
Because you’re not typically someone whose presence is taken lightly, the thought of being toyed with by a few arrogant men has your blood boiling. You’ve already dealt with too many pretentious assholes who don’t believe women, especially younger ones, belong in management; you didn’t claw your way to the top of the industry for all of that hardship to go to waste. Ever the more perceptive of the duo, Dabi seems to realize the shift in your mood. 
“Relax,” he reaches a hand towards you before thinking better of it, choosing instead to tug at the thin, silver piercing adorning his bottom lip. “We’re only teasing. She didn’t say anything like that, obviously.” You stare at him incredulously, arms crossing your chest. “Why don’t we give you a tour?” Though he’s the one who makes the offer, it sounds as though he’d rather be doing anything else. 
“We’re not really assholes, promise,” Hawks jumps in, crossing his fingers over his heart in a show of good faith. “This one just gets too big headed around beautiful women,” he points at the heavily-inked man, who simply rolls his eyes at the accusation. You’d thought the blonde was…well, nothing more than the stereotype his hair color implied, but he’s sharper than he seems. It appears that unlike Dabi, who comes off curt and ungenuine, Hawks’ wit stems from his charm. 
You can’t help but think of how the two of them compliment each other beautifully. That’s probably why their entire fanbase thinks they should be dating. With that ludicrous thought, your exuberance returns. After Hawks assures you they don’t have to be on set any time soon, you find yourself taking them up on their offer. They seem to be a handful, sure, but how long have you dreamt of spending uninterrupted time with your favorite members of the group? Besides, it’s only a tour. What could go wrong?
-
It’s apparent only five minutes into your time together that Hawks (despite his insistence you call him Kiego, it’s difficult after years of referring to him by the stage name) does not know the meaning of personal space. He spends the better part of the tour hooking an arm through yours, touching your hair, or pestering Dabi. While some may take this over-familiarity as a sign of disrespect, it feels more to you as though he’s simply comfortable in his skin. 
Rude or not, his bold actions do nothing but spur your heart to beat out of your chest. Every time he guides you towards an attraction with a cheerful comment, you swear his fingers purposefully dash under your layers of clothing, brushing faintly at the skin of your waist in a way that makes your heart (among other parts) flutter.  
“And as I’m sure you know, we’re filming this music video mid-tour,” his hand flits away as swiftly as it skimmed you, prolonging the torture of wondering whether his movements are purposeful or a figment of your twisted imagination. After showing you most of the fabricated scenery— and even the gorgeous, cherry-red convertible that was rented— for the video, you’ve arrived at the group’s infamous tour bus. You once read that most of their concerts end with the vehicle being mobbed by ruthless fans, one of the sole reasons you’ve never attended a show. Someone as busy as you doesn’t have time for all the horrid traffic the mobs cause. “Wanna see inside? It’s actually pretty roomy.” 
You nod, eyes trailing towards Dabi, who’s busy stomping out the most recent cig he’d been puffing on. Aside from the occasional chuckle at your flustered blunders or annoyed curse thrown towards Hawks, the taller man had kept mostly to himself. His indifference confuses you, makes you wish you hadn’t reacted so bitterly to the loose smile and banter he offered you upon first meeting. At the same time, part of you is irritated by his standoffish personality. From what you’ve seen so far, his remarks serve the single purpose of humiliating others for his own amusement— a stark contrast to the misjudged softy he’s portrayed as on camera. 
You’re guided onto the bus and Dabi follows, cursing under his breath at something or other. Sociable as he is, Hawks begins to chatter again, seeing no issue in being the center of your attention. You realize the space is much roomier than it seems. State of the art technology allows the bunk beds to fold back with a press of the button, leaving room for a decently sized couch. It’s also much cleaner than you would expect three young men living on the road to allow. 
“And the lowest one was my bunk, just in case you’d like to see it again later,” he whispers the sentence as though it’s his best kept secret, wagging his thick brows exaggeratedly to key you in on his joke. “Hey, why are you laughing? I’m totally seriou–” The doors swivel open and your giggles are cut off by heavy footsteps and a booming voice,
“Oi! Keigo! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You have to crane your neck to see the pillar of a man’s scrunched, stoic face. Endeavor, the pyrotechnic-obsessed “hype man” and third part of Suns of Icarus’s trio, stands a few feet from you, clearly exasperated by something his bandmate has done. Hawks must know precisely the reason for the bottle-redhead’s tone, because his face pales. 
“Enji, we made a new friend!” He pulls you into his chest in an obvious attempt to shield himself from the giant, but your face heats at the close contact regardless. 
“You were supposed to be on set for your solo scenes ten minutes ago,” he crosses his sculpted arms, “so let’s go.” The lively man is being whisked away by the larger one before he can utter a word of rebuttal. “Nice to meet you,” he calls casually to you over his shoulder. 
“Dabi, keep (Y/N) company! I’ll be back!” Hawks shrieks with a dramatic flare. The man was truly born to be an entertainer. 
An unbearable awkwardness envelops the two of you once you’re alone. Without his best friend around, Dabi drops any semblance of amiability, but it’s not as if he was trying very hard before. He plops down on the couch and pulls out his phone. You sit as far away from him as possible, but realize you don’t have your own device to keep you busy. After a few nervous minutes of twiddling your thumbs, you attempt to break the silence.
“So, Haw– Keigo and Endeavor use stage names, why don’t you?” You spout the first question that comes to mind, hoping it’ll spark an interesting conversation.
“Dabi is my stage name,” he answers curtly, without looking up from his cell. 
“Oh...but– even your bandmates call you by it?” 
“Yep. Don’t care for my real name,” his eye roll sends ice through your veins.
“Excuse me,” you snap, “have I done something to offend you?” The frustration in your tone wins you eye contact, at least. 
“Nope.”
“Unbelievable….I’m going to need your publicist’s information.” 
“Huh?”
“Well, anyone who can make you seem like the world’s most ‘misunderstood heartthrob’ on camera certainly deserves a pay raise, dontcha’ think?” His eyes drop to send a steely glare your way, but you’re too fed up to feel intimidated. You smirk at him, a single eyebrow raised in twisted satisfaction. There’s the bitchy self you know and love. 
“You don’t know the first fucking thing about me,” he sits up, “but I know everything I need to know about you.” 
“Oh? Enlighten me then, sir.” 
~~~
“You may think Keigo likes you, but he likes everyone. You’re, what, thinking you’re special because he’s throwing some attention your way?” Dabi inches closer. “Hoping he’ll get in your panties?” 
“It’s not like that at all–”
“Don’t lie. The idea of being with someone you’ve idolized for years is thrilling, isn’t it?” The heat that rises on your cheeks is enough to confirm his suspicions. “He doesn’t like to see people for who they really are, but I know your type...just another tramp that’ll use him and move onto the next,” his smug expression returns after that little rant. Paired with the tattoos covering most of his face, he appears every bit as wicked as the skeleton his ink emulates— devilish, even. 
“You’re wrong.” You can’t think of a proper argument when he’s so close to you, basically breathing down your neck. 
“Am I?” His hand trails up your clothed thigh, and an unwelcome shiver crawls up your spine. “So you’re going to stop me when I do this, right?” Then, he kisses you. 
It’s not at all soft, or compassionate, or anything resembling your naive teenage fantasies of the artist in the slightest. Rough, slender fingers wrap around your jaw and yank your lips to his. He doesn’t stop at a peck either, choosing instead to assail your mouth with all of his pent-up rage. The cool, hard metal of his lip ring strains against you, a pleasant contrast to the quick heat traveling the rest of your body. You want nothing more than to prove him wrong— to throw him off you, tell him to go straight to hell— but he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and- God, it just feels so good. Your mouth parts in a breathless moan and Dabi takes the reaction as an invitation to swipe his tongue against your teeth. With your bodies melding together violently, the make out feels simply a continuation of the intense argument you were having moments before. 
Pulling you between his lap, he shifts you so that your back is flush across his chest. Nimble fingers make quick work of your clothes. You just barely raise your hips so that he’s able to take your pants off with ease, but you’re sure he notices the eager movement. When you’re left in nothing but your panties, you feel the rumbling of his solid body behind you as he laughs, the sound bitter and pleased all at once.
“Oh you really are a whore,” he chides. “Who’d you wear these for, hm?” He runs his fingers across the band of your red lace thong. 
“Not you,” you bite back, feigning disinterest towards the dangerous position he has you in. The asshole’s not going to get to actually hear you admit defeat so easily. One of his hands kneads your chest and the other grabs your cheeks harshly, pushing them together so that you’re unable to speak.
“Not me? Take a good look at yourself, sweetheart.”  He lifts your head upwards and your breath hitches; the entire ceiling of the bus is covered in a dark, reflective surface. “Who has you naked in their lap right now?” he whispers onto your neck, licking a long stripe upwards until his teeth graze your ear. You watch fervently as he strokes his digits across one of your perked nipples, tweaking the bud roughly. “Who are you being such a slut for?” He’s aware he won’t get a response because his left hand still grips your face, demanding you watch his every move. 
Dabi then snakes his fingers down your midriff tortuously slowly, brushing lightly in a way he hasn’t touched you yet; as if the skin there is delicate, worthy of his valuable adoration. The ink traveling his arms makes him appear so ethereal, so sinister and compelling, that you can’t help but let out a muffled mewl. Once he reaches your panties, his fingers dart beneath the material and the tender moment is lost. An onslaught of pleasure wracks your body when he begins to draw quick circles on your clit. He lets go of your cheeks, now sore and reddened from both pressure and bliss. 
“I’m going to ask one more fucking time,” his fingers glide against your soaked slit, “who are you being such a dirty slut for?” You contemplate not giving him the answer he’s looking for, and part of you is sinfully curious about what may happen if you enrage him further; however, that idea is put to rest immediately when he snaps his head up to look at you through the mirror, blue eyes pooling with lust and a hint of something animalistic. That stare, paired with the relentless strokes across your clit, provokes your moaned answer,
“F-for you, Dabi.” He uses his free hand to insert two, thick digits inside you.
“Say it again.” 
“I’m- fuck– a s-slut for you,” you practically sob out. You press the back of your head into his shoulder harder, squeezing your eyes closed and biting your lip. 
“Not going to keep your eyes open? Fine.”  The fingers are removed from your clit and you’re about to let out an unsatisfied whine, only for him to grab the back of your head and mash your swollen lips to his once again. Then, after another brief caress of your abdomen, he’s back to touching your sensitive bud. All of your moans are silenced by his mouth, and you feel the vibrations of a low groan from his own throat when your ass grinds against his clothed member. When your stomach pulls taut you know you’re seconds away from feeling that all-encompassing pleasure, the tidings of an orgasm so close to washing over you. 
“Oi, Matches! You didn’t throw her out did you?” Hearing Hawks’ voice call out from the front of the bus has you reeling your lips away from Dabi, and though he slows his movements, he doesn’t remove his fingers from your core. Rather than push you away, he takes the other hand off your clit to hold you tightly against him. “(Y/N)? Dab–”
For a few seconds, the only sound you can hear is your own heart beating out of your chest. Takami takes in the scene in front of him— your bare body splayed across his best friend in the lewdest of positions. You know your face is blooming in embarrassment as you wait for a reaction, for his face to drop in disappointment, anger, anything. Instead, he smirks. 
“Starting without me? That’s no fair,” the golden-haired boy actually pouts, but there’s something deeper swimming in his eyes, something almost bloodthirsty. Though this is happening right in front of you, you can’t truly believe it. Dabi relieves the pressure of his arm from your chest.
“Look Kiego, the whore’s fucking drenched for us,” he lifts his fingers towards the beautiful man in front of you proudly, as if showing off a trophy or a new toy. Then he pops the damp fingers in his own mouth, humming at the taste of you. Hawks’ tongue dips out of his mouth, darting across his bottom lip. 
“I want a taste,” he leers at your bright panties, now soaked through. You think you must have died and gone to heaven, what with the two Adonises staring at you as if you’re their last meal. Hawks kneels at the foot of the couch, brings his face right up to your navel, and licks a long, cold swipe. His digits toy at your waist like they were earlier, except this time the movements are decisive and fierce. Just as he’s about to tug your panties down and place his mouth where you want it most, Dabi seizes his jaw and pulls his partner into a long, sloppy kiss. You let out a sigh at the view and— teases that they are— the sound doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.
“Is watching us turning you on?” Dabi taunts cruelly. 
“Looks like she’s a bit of a pervert, hm?” Hawks retorts, sliding a finger across your clothed slit. The movement causes your entire body to quiver, your senses on high alert. Without another word, he leans down again, shifts your panties to the side, and takes your clit between his lips. The way he laps at you hungrily makes you believe your initial judgment of him was completely inaccurate, and when he inserts two lengthy digits inside you, the thought is confirmed. Hot, white pleasure consumes your body as your core clenches around his digits. He simply cocks an eyebrow at you and chuckles darkly, holding you tightly against him by your waist so that you’re unable to wriggle away. Gone is the lovable persona you were introduced to, replaced now by someone entirely foreign, deviously lewd. 
“Fuck, Hawks,” you whimper, greedy for more. 
“Thought I told you to call me Keigo,” he scolds beneath you, biting the inside of your thigh so that a sharp gasp leaves you. 
“I-I’m sorry, K-Kei–” You’re cut off mid-moan when Dabi kisses you, wrapping one slender hand around your throat and squeezing. His other one threads through your hair and tugs harshly. A painful hiss leaves you but the sound only makes him pull harder, smirking against your lips.
It’s as though they’re competing for your attention. If one of the men evokes a sob or whimper, the other attempts to outdo him— and they have no regard for your body, becoming instead the battleground for their lascivious rivalry. You lose yourself in the intense sensations, unaware of time or its passing, instead focusing solely on the coil tightening in your abdomen. Every gasp, every moan, only pushes them further, and soon your legs are shaking as you feel yourself nearing the delicious edge. 
Just as you’re about to let go, allow yourself the mind-numbing relief of an orgasm, Kiego withdraws his fingers. Rubbing your bruised thighs together is a desperate attempt at friction, but the momentum is completely lost. Your core clenches around nothing, and you cry out, hopelessly bitter at the emptiness between your legs. 
“Sorry, princess,” his hair is sticking up, golden locks tousled from the harsh grip of your fingers. And yet he still looks perfect. He wipes your juices off his chin with a thumb, “but that’s for starting without me.” Despite the apology, he sounds absolutely delighted at your loss. You whine again, hoping it’ll change his mind. “What do you think, Dabi? Should we let her cum?” 
Hearing his name, the tattooed man takes his attention away from your chest and the onslaught of purple marks his lips’ were just peppering on your throat. 
“I don’t think so,” he tweaks at one of your nipples, eliciting a soft groan from you. “I want the bitch begging for it.” Dabi pushes you away from him and stands to unbuckle his belt. “Besides, don’t think she’s done enough to earn it.” You should be outraged at the way they decide your fate as if you’re not even present, but in reality it only thrills you, your clit throbbing at the lack of control. 
“You’re right,” your idol sneers, canines bared and gleaming as he unzips his own pants, “and I wanna see those pretty lips wrapped around me.”
They switch places, shifting you so that your breasts are pinned against the couch between Kiego’s legs. Dabi grinds his hips against your clothed center, and you mewl at the long-awaited friction, hard member straining against his briefs. 
“Get to work, princess,” Kiego calls to you, boxers down to his knees. You can only balk at the sight in front of you. His cock is thick and long, essentially everything you could’ve ever hoped for, but that’s not it. 
Rather, it’s the shiny, silver ball pierced through the shaft and poking out from the top of his head that stops you dead in your tracks. He notices your eyes widen at it, but only snorts, wrapping your hair around his hand and yanking you roughly towards him. 
“Oh, that little thing?” Now he’s shoving you against his length, using your face as nothing more than a means for friction. “Just a drunken dare from Matches.” The nickname provokes the other man into leaving a stinging slap against your behind. And just like that, the angered man drives himself into your cunt. 
“I told you,” slap, “not to,” slap, “call me that.” With each thrust into you, Dabi releases an onslaught of pent-up anger onto your rear, the biting pain causing you to cry out around Kiego’s member. 
“Yeah sweetheart, just like that,” he leans his head back against the couch with a deep groan. “Such a pretty little whore, choking on my cock.” One of his free fingers shoots out to wipe at your tears, hand moving ever-so-lightly to cradle your jaw. The gesture might have been sweet if his other hand wasn’t forcing you down further to swallow him whole. 
“Mmmph–” you scrape carelessly at Kiego’s thighs in an attempt to secure yourself, moans coming out garbled with his cock down your throat. 
“Not done with you yet, slut” Dabi still pounds into you relentlessly. You’re overwhelmed with the feeling of being stuffed from both ends, knees on the verge of giving out until he fastens his hands around your thighs, pulling you into him with even harder plunges. “Fucking take it.” Something hard and cold grinds inside you, and you’re acutely aware of the ridged piercings now pressing against that perfect, spongy spot in your heat.
When he reaches an arm around to rub furiously at your clit, you’re sobbing. Kiego’s deep, golden eyes watching you, Dabi’s unrelenting fingers and thrusts, it’s all too much. 
And then you’re finally letting go. Legs shaking, mind wracked with white as you clench your eyes shut. Your mouth moves away from Kiego’s shaft, only concerned with riding out your high. The tattooed man behind you doesn’t stop his movements either, still pressed deep inside you until your tongue lolls out of your mouth and you’re tapping furiously at his waist. Kiego smiles, taking himself in his hand and slapping his cock against your cheek while he strokes himself. 
“That’s it, baby,” he smooths your hair back, grunting. “You look so pretty when you cum.” He pumps himself a few more times before he finishes, sticky liquid spurting across your lips and into your hair. You reach around to grab at Dabi’s waist again, willing him to stop. He removes himself from inside of you only to flip you around and your cunt clenches at the feeling of emptiness. 
Pulling you into a long, winded kiss, he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip to taste Kiego’s release. Then he’s pushing you to your knees once more, hands threading through your hair roughly.
“Suck,” he scowls down at you. Though you’re breathless, still reeling from your orgasm, the simple command spewed at you has your lips wrapped around him in a second.
He isn’t as girthy as Kiego, but just as long. A trail of piercings go down his length, and your tongue brushes against the cool metal while you wrap your fingers around the area you can’t reach. You stare up at him through thick lashes, piercing blue eyes ogling you as you take him further in. His hand is still perched on your head, but he makes no movement to push you down— instead, basking in your slow seduction. 
You’re sure you look a mess, dried mascara down your cheeks and still covered in Kiego’s cum, but Dabi only revels in the power he has over you, positively thrilled at the way you no longer fight for dominance. He breaks eye contact only when the blonder man tugs him into a kiss, deep and passionate, and the sight only urges you to swallow him deeper. 
“I like her with her mouth so full,” Kiego whispers against Dabi’s lips. 
“Just as long as the bitch isn’t speaking,” the other man groans, rutting into your mouth so that you know he’s close. 
Soon he’s pulling out of you to pump his shaft, your mouth wide open so that the head of his cock brushes against your tongue. Kiego reaches down to move Dabi’s hand, grabbing at his partner’s length so he can stroke it himself. It doesn’t take long after that for the brooding man to cum, head thrown back in a loud grunt while the tantalizing male next to him coaxes him through the orgasm. Kiego angles him so that his hot, white liquid gushes onto both your face and tongue; you suck at Dabi’s head until he forcibly pushes you off him. 
“Fuck,” he sighs, running a hand through his sweaty locks. “Knew you were good for something.” With that final statement, he turns away from you, pulling his pants back on and returning to his spot on the couch as though he wants nothing more to do with you. 
Kiego walks away as well, and you’re sure you’re about to be kicked out now that they’ve had their way with you. A part of you is angered, but a larger part is still processing what just happened, savoring the earth-shattering orgasm the pair blessed you with. 
You look for your discarded clothing, trying to compose yourself so you’re able to get out of their way as quickly as possible. Kiego walks back into the common area, wet rag in hand. He doesn’t speak until he pushes you into the couch, rubbing the clean towel over your face softly.
“So, you’re coming to our concert next week, right?” 
---------------
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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years ago
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Hi. Not VMIN or Namjin related, but I would love to hear your opinion about some critics (maybe haters is a better word lol) saying how Butter's success is inorganic. They were saying how it's just army mass streaming and mass buying etc, that the BB charts are irrelevant bec of it. It's a controversial topic and apparently it was common in the music industry to have payolas too? Lol. I never knew there's politics into it. Does streaming practically mean "cheating" ? Your thoughts?
You've come to the right place because I have a lot of opinions on the topic and I'm more than willing to share my thoughts because truly, just like everybody else, I'm sick and tired of yet another whiny white man of the week coming at us with baseless accusations of ARMY "cheating" and inorganically pushing Butter because that doesn't fit with what has been the status quo so far.
The issue, though really it only is an issue because it’s BTS and ARMY, is, like you said, ARMY buying Butter via the US store offered to us by BH/Columbia. This is funded either via funding accounts that gather donations and distribute them to those (usually fellow ARMYs) willing/wanting to buy the song, or people who just, well, want to buy the song because they like it, which includes non-ARMYs, aka locals/the general public. None of that is against the rules, which I think whiny white man of the week also acknowledged, but here we are anyway.
This complaint isn’t new either, we’ve already gone over it last year with Dynamite, so it’s another cyclical piece of discourse we’re having to deal with. Here is something that Bryan Rolli, a journalist writing (among other places) for Forbes and the man behind a lot of really good articles about BTS (among them also one in defense of them about this very topic), twted recently:
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And he is right, it’s unrealistic to think that even a fandom as large as ours in the US would be able to find funds they are able to spend across five weeks and ongoing in order to just make the #1 happen based on sales. There is no way, unless we have some truly generous rich people amongst us who would be wiling to spend thousands of dollars. Which we don't, as far as I’m aware. Which leaves us with one conclusion: while yes, ARMY are able to buy a good quantity of copies of Butter, it’s ridiculous to think that a song that is such a hit hasn't found its way into the heart of locals as well and that there aren’t people out in the US who just like the song and have bought it. Not because ARMY asked them to, but because they genuinely wanted to.
Besides, regardless how many copies ARMY would buy, sales aren’t the only deciding factor that goes into which song gets onto the charts, and which one will be #1. 
In order to chart on Billboard Hot 100 you basically need points gathered across three major categories: Sales (physical as well as digital), Streams (this includes music streaming services as well as video streams on YT) and Airplay. There are more finer details that go into all three of these, but just knowing those basics is enough for this post.
Staying with sales, there are many ways in which you can game the system, most of them ways BH has never touched while US artists did. Have any of these critics ever proclaimed how that was breaking and manipulating the charts? Of course not. At the height of the bundles era a label could decide to bundle something as cheap as a lollipop with a song/album and the sale of that lollipop would count as song/album sale, even if you didn’t actually pay for the album/song. That used to be an awfully popular method of gaming the system, just like selling a single song on a CD for a dollar (which isn’t against the rules) knowing that physical sales weigh heavier than digital ones. Again, that’s something BH/BTS never did.
So, even if we’d have sales covered, we still need streams and airplay to get that number one. Do you know what one of the major factors was for why ON “only” made it onto #4 and never onto #1? It wasn’t the song being bad and ARMY not buying, but because it barely got any spins on US radios. And by barely I mean (if I remember right) less than ten.
More below the cut:
Years ago when BTS were not anywhere as famous in the BTS as they are now, ARMY would call radio stations across the US, send flowers and cupcakes, just to get them to play BTS. In most cases, radios laughed at them and refused to do it. Thanks to one radio DJ we even know that there used to be a group chat of radio DJs who spent their time ridiculing BTS and ARMY and discussing how regardless of what we’d do, they wouldn’t play them anyway because *inset dumb, likely ra/cist, reasons here*.
Thankfully with Dynamite and Butter being English singles, the tides have turned a little more in our favor. According to this website the wonderful BTSChartData has created, Butter has had a reach/audience of 12M when it comes to radio (I’m unsure if this is overall or just this week) with nearly 3.5k spins. This helps tremendously when it comes to BBH100 points, but it’s important to remember that really, we don’t have any real influence on radio playlisting. Labels do through something commonly known as payola. And many, and by that I mean many, do that for their artists. Notice how some songs are being played nearly every hour? And yet other things which are massive hits get barely any plays at all? As far as we know BH/Colombia has never done any of this for BTS. If they had, those spin numbers would look very differently.
At this point we could get into a whole argument how messed up it is that it took an English song for radios to play BTS while they basically refused to do so with their Korean ones, and how with radio charts labels have the ability to pay their chosen songs to be high on them, but that’s a can of worms that would take too much time and we’re all aware that it’s a thing that happens.
The last category is streaming and here it gets messy, or messier, depending on how you look at it. ARMY might be the only fandom with this degree of knowledge about streaming and how to make our streams count, how to set up playlists properly etc, and yes, we do use our knowledge to our advantage, so to speak. And yet the system still finds a way to penalize us for it by basically filtering out massive amounts of streams for apparently no reason whatsoever. While other songs and their first day streams saw a filter rate of perhaps ten, maybe twenty, percent, do you know what it looked like for Butter?
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That’s quite the difference, right? And it remained at such drastic numbers for quite a while, too. Despite ARMY knowing how not to behave like bots, even though critics and antis love to present us as such. Does Spotify explain those filter rates, or even how those are decided and calculated? No. So basically ARMY is up against an invisible power that has all the tools while we have to hope we won’t get stepped on and crushed like ants.
Speaking of Spotify, a big part of how streaming numbers happen and how songs find their way in front of new audiences are playlists, specifically the ones curated by unknown Spotify staff members like Today’s Top Hits (28.8M followers) or Top 50 - Global (16M followers). Since those playlists are created by Spotify using whatever secret criteria, we have no influence onto them (other than some that depend, to a degree, on streaming numbers). Labels do through, again, payola. Labels can buy their artists top spots on the biggest playlists and thus their songs get massive streaming numbers, not because fans genuinely listen to them, but because random people listening to those playlists might have it playing in the background without them even really knowing it or being aware who the artist is or what the song is called. You know those ads you get when you’re listening to the free version of Spotify, specifically those advertising some new album or song? Even just those thirty seconds of ad time count as a stream.
While it’s true that ARMY hold streaming parties, it is also a fact that ARMY, unlike many other fandoms, really spend a lot of time genuinely listening to BTS’ music in general. And while some idiots on twt think streaming means sitting motionlessly while staring at a screen as the song is playing over and over again, most ARMY just have the music playing while they do something else, like household chores or reading or doing work. Is it cheating to enjoy your favorite artists music? To play it on Spotify or any other streaming platform? Is it cheating to watch an MV simply because you enjoy it? No, of course not. 
Therefore, to answer your question, no, streaming isn’t cheating. And neither are listening/streaming parties since, chances are, even without them those participating in them would be listening to BTS anyway. Thanks to those parties they get to do it with a sense of community, talk to each other, discuss whichever song is currently playing, and have fun. Nothing inorganic about that.
Pulling up another Brian, in this case Brian Cantor who is an entertainment journalist, here’s something he said that I think is very true:
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And that’s the thing, when BH set up streaming parties for a week after the release of Butter, that was seen negatively, as well as ARMY doing their own, and yet when another artist’s label did it for them, it was seen as fun way to engage with fans and to make listening to the new album a collective experience, or something like that. As long as it is Bangtan, only the negatives will count. But they (critics) forget something, as in, setting up listening parties and online stores for songs is one thing, but getting people to actually tune in and spend their coin on music are a completely different one.
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And this is the thing that whiny white man of the week, chose whichever one you want, don’t understand--the fact that ARMY are a big and very active fandom. That we are organized and that, in order for BTS to chart and be known, BH/Columbia doesn’t need to use any of the cheats that US labels use, like payola. They don’t have to rely on the whims of the general public, on radio DJs, or put out tens of thousands of dollars to get proper playlisting and interest in a song. BTS releases new music and ARMY is there, we tune in, we spend our hard earned money on their music, not because some smart PR tactic tricked us into it, not because playlisting, payola, and mediaplay tricked us into it, but because we genuinely enjoy their music, because we have this one of a kind connection with Bangtan, one that US labels, and whiny white man of the week, don’t understand. And don’t really care to understand either.
Because those aren’t the norm in the US. Because in the past hit songs were decided through large sums of money and deals happening behind closed doors. Yet now ARMY and BTS are here. We see the broken pieces of the system, we shine light upon them, reveal the negatives and all the ways in which the system doesn’t work and/or isn’t fair, we’re vocal about it on social media, and whiny white man of the week, as well as label executives, don’t like it. So we are made out to be the bad guys. For genuinely enjoying our favorite artists and their music. For being willing to listen to them and to spend money on them. What scandalous behavior.
We don’t do what we do because we want to game the system, but because we want things to be more fair, for BTS to get the respect they deserve, to be listened to and given the time of day. They are called the biggest band in the world right now, so why is it so hard to believe that their song is rightfully #1? That they are simply popular, not just with ARMY but also with locals (Dynamite is the background music in the new trailer for the Clifford the Big Red Dog movie, has been used at high school graduations, and many other things showing just how big of a hit it still is almost a year later, that isn’t us, that’s locals loving the song just as much as we do), and that ARMY aren’t just silly little girls (not that there is anything wrong with being a little girl that enjoys music, of course) that scream any time someone as much as mentions BTS. We are a large and extremely diverse fandom in terms of age, gender, race, and education/profession. We see the injustice and we aren’t afraid to point it out and stand up against it.
What we are doing isn’t manipulation, isn’t inorganic or fake, and it certainly isn’t making BBH100 irrelevant or broken. If anything it shows that it already was that way before we arrived. 
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wefoundloveunderthelight · 4 years ago
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Nowhere to Run by  GleefullyCaptainSwan
Read on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
Or on FF
Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jonesfandomfanatic @jrob64 @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s
The song referenced in this chapter is “We are Glass” by Thompson Square. You can hear the song here:
It’s a beautiful song and I felt it really summed up the characters in this story.
Chapter 10: We are Glass
Killian spent the next couple of weeks recovering in the hospital. He asked Robin to stay at his place to keep an eye on Emma and Henry, yet Emma spent most of her time next to his bed side when she wasn’t sitting in the corner of the room with Henry on her lap, teaching him his school lessons.
She told him how she had been teaching Henry everything she could while they were on the run. He could read and write, knew his arithmetic, and was an excellent artist. He found that even when he was tired, he would spend his time watching the two with reverence. Emma was a patient mother, but Henry was also an exceptional child.
“Did it hurt when you got shot?” The boy mused as he sat on the end of his bed, peeking up from between the cards in his hands.
“Aye. I would say it was pretty painful. Go fish, by the way.” He paused. “But the pain was replaced quickly by a sense of numbness, I guess, so I didn’t feel it long.” He stretched restlessly, looking down at his cards. “Have any 3’s?”
The boy narrowed his eyes, looking through his cards. “Go fish.” He smirked. “Do you think my dad is going to get out of prison and come after us again?”
Killian placed his cards against his chest. “I don’t think so lad. He’s going to have a trial. He has that right. The state will present its evidence, and he’ll face any consequences that he’s found guilty of. But you don’t have to worry, Henry. Even if he does get out, he’ll never get near you or your mom again.”
“But what about you? Who’s going to protect you?”
“Well, I’ve got Captain Nolan, and my partner Robin. Will and Belle…”
“And mom and me.” He said proudly.
Killian’s heart swelled. “You’d protect me? I’m honored.”
“Is Rogers ok?” His nose scrunched in worry.
“He’s staying with Will. He’s not a young pup anymore, so the old boy needed a lot of help getting better. But when they finally let me out of here, he’s gonna come back and live with me.”
“Will me and mom live with you?”
Killian swallowed nervously. He and Emma hadn’t talked about the future yet. There was still so much for them to resolve. Ten years was a long time to be apart, especially when the last time they had seen each other they were not in a good place.
“Your mom and I have a lot to talk about still.”
“Are you really married to my mom?” Continuing his barrage of questions.
He sighed. “Aye.”
“That must have been weird having her gone for ten years then. I bet you missed her.”
“More than all the stars in the world.”
“She used to tell me stories about you.” The boy said, his eyes wide as saucers.
“Did she now?” He mused.
“Sometimes you were a cop fighting bad guys, other times you were a swashbuckling pirate searching for treasure, and sometimes you were a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy sailing off on a ship to save the princess. Mom tells the best stories, but they were always about you.”
Killian’s eyes glassed over, bending his head to reach up and swipe at his face. “Your mother has quite the imagination, but I’m happy to be able to oblige for your entertainment.”
“Who’s hungry?” Emma’s voice filled the room as she came carrying a tray of food and drinks. “The doc says you are off your diet.”
Killian groaned happily as she sat the hamburger down on the tray in front of him. The first real food he would get to eat in weeks. He bit into the burger immediately, moaning loudly as soon as he tasted the meat on his tongue. Emma was staring at him, her mouth slightly agape. “Wut?” He said between chews.
“Nothing.” She said with an embarrassing glance away from him, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red. At least he still had some sort of effect on her, he thought.
“How did the call with Liam go?” She sat down in the chair next to him, pulling a grilled cheese sandwich into her hands.
“He was happy to hear that Neal is behind bars. He’s going to come visit soon when the girls are on holiday. He wanted me to tell you how gutted he was knowing everything you’ve been through.”
She shrugged, something she did often when he mentioned her past with Neal. “It will be nice to see him again. The girls must be so big now.”
“Aye. Twelve and sixteen now. He has his hands full for sure.”
She took a bite of her sandwich, watching Henry coloring at the end of Killian’s bed. “He’s not bothering you is he?”
“We were just playing a game of Go Fish. I think he cheats.” He whispered loudly, earning a complaint from Henry. Emma let out a pleasant laugh, something he was happy to earn from her.
“Doctor says you might get out of here tomorrow.”
“That’s my hope as well. I can’t wait to see Rogers.”
“I’m glad he’s alright. The old boy’s a survivor.” Emma mused.
“Aye, that he is.”
“I made an appointment for Henry and I to go see Dr. Hopper next week.” She said with a sad smile. “Figured I might need to talk through some things before we have to face Neal again at trial.”
“Hop’s a good man.”
“You know him?”
“Aye.” He nodded, not wanting to get into the fact that he knew him because he had been his patient, after Emma had left, when the world crumbled at his feet.
“I’ve been looking for a place to stay once you get released from the hospital. I know you’re going to need your bed to recover.”
Killian bit his lip. He knew they needed to discuss this. He didn’t want her to leave, but he also knew that they had a lot to work through if they were going to ever find their way back to each other. If she still wanted that.
“I can talk to Will. He had a vacancy across the hall from him a couple of weeks ago.”
“That would be nice, thank you.”
“Emma…”
“Hey there.” Killian stared at Emma’s face as David entered the room. “How ya feeling?” He turned, facing his boss.
“Doing great, going home tomorrow, I’ll be back on the streets before you know it.” He grinned cheekily.
“Yeah you’re taking some time off, buddy.”
“What?” He complained.
“Take a vacation, Killian. You’ve earned some time off. Robins got your cases locked down right now.”
“Cap, I’m fine.”
“It’s an order, Detective.” He walked over to Emma and smiled, she suddenly reached up and wrapped him into a hug.
“You look better.” He said softly.
“I feel better, I feel like I’ve gained ten pounds just eating three meals a day.” She chuckled, but both David and Killian glanced uncomfortably at each other.
“Hey, don’t do that. I’m fine.” She glared. “I don’t want you treating me any differently than you did when we were at the academy.” She winked up at David, “Still top of my class, sir.”
“It’s good to have you back Emma.” David smiled with a genuine air of happiness.
Three months later
Emma picked the shirt off the floor in Henry’s room, tossing it into the hamper. “Did you remember to pack a toothbrush?” The boy appeared from behind the doorway, poking his head into the room.
“Yup. It’s in the front pocket of my duffle.” He disappeared again and then reappeared. “Are you gonna be ok with this?”
Emma smiled at him. “Of course, I am, why would you ask that?”
“Cuz this is my first sleepover away from you that isn’t over at Killian’s.”
“I’ll be fine, Henry. I actually have plans tonight.”
He moved quickly into the room. “What kind of plans?”
She sat down on the bed. “I kinda have a date tonight.”
“Does Killian know?” He asked with a shocked look of disgust on his face.
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about before you left.” He sat down next to her. “My date is with Killian.”
He jumped up from the bed and pumped his arms in the air. “Yes.”
Emma laughed. “Does that mean you’re ok with this?”
“Of course, I am. Killian’s the best. He even lets me stay up until 11pm when I stay over at his place.”
“Well, I’ll have to talk to him about that, but I’m glad you like him.” She wrapped her arms around Henry’s waist and hugged him tightly. “I love you, buddy. I hope you have fun tonight. And if you need me at all, you know you can call me.” She tousled his hair and kissed his cheek.
There was a knock on the door and Henry pushed away from her. “Gotta go, love you mom.”
Emma looked around Henry’s room, pictures he had drawn hanging on the wall. Her favorite one was hanging above the bed. It was of her, Henry, Killian, and Rogers playing at the park.
As difficult as returning home had been, they had settled into a pretty simple life. Emma and Henry had moved into their own apartment in Will’s complex. It was nice to have a friendly face around now and then when she found herself getting anxious on nights when Henry was sleeping over at Killian’s or when she would wake from a terrifying dream.
Will was always gracious no matter the time she found herself standing in front of his door with a bottle of rum in her hands. He would always sit up with her and listen to her talk about the first thing that came to her mind, something Dr. Hopper had suggested she try to take her mind off her nightmares. She didn’t know when it happened but before she knew it, he had become one of her closest friends.
And then there was Killian.
She wasn’t surprised that Henry had latched onto him so quickly. Killian was great with him, always patient, always offering to assist him with whatever the boy required. Which was often a lot as he was a growing boy who was adjusting to the freedom of being able to go outside and roam. Killian made sure he found new foods for him to try, adventures to experience, even new clothes to wear on his first day at a real school. Watching him with her son, the joy on his face, had her falling in love with him all over again. Of course, she hadn’t told him that. She was nervous about moving too quickly with him. Dr. Hopper told her that was normal. She had experienced a trauma and loss that not many people would cope with.
In her last session, she told her therapist that she wanted to try again with Killian. She had spent the last three months trying to figure out what her life would become now that she was home. She needed to learn who Emma was before she could deal with being Mrs. Jones again.
Killian had presented her with their divorce papers, gave her the choice to sign them and start her life fresh. She put it off, telling him that she needed some time to think before she made any big decisions in her life. He was patient and told her he understood but Emma knew that if he had his way, he would rip them to shreds.
Emma was volunteering at a small clinic that Mary Margaret worked at on the weekends, talking to victims of domestic abuse and rape. Currently she was taking it slow, still not understanding her own trauma that she had endured enough to feel like she had all the answers, but just being there with them to let them know they weren’t alone, and that someone understood what they had gone through. It was freeing to Emma to be able to own her story, to not feel ashamed anymore.
Dr. Hopper told her that was a form of acceptance. Owning what happened to you, claiming it as your story. She would never be over what Neal had done to her, stealing her dignity, laying waste to her self-esteem. But she refused to be defined by it. She didn’t want to be Emma Swan, rape victim. She was Emma Jones, survivor.
Today was going to be another step in her journey. Killian was taking her on a date. She remembered his face as they were eating lunch, a short break during his shift.
“We should go out.” She said nonchalantly between bites.
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“Maybe, but I have to ask you a few questions first.” He raised his eyebrow, leaning forward for her to continue.
“Ask away.”
“I need to know if you ok going on a date with someone who is probably always going to be a little bit damaged.”
He shrugged, “Aren’t we all? I like to think I can absorb a little damage.”
“Ok then, last thing…” She grinned. “You gotta like kids or it’s a deal breaker.”
He laughed loudly, “Aye, I adore Henry.” He shrugged, “So, do I win a date with the beautiful woman who currently has a mayonnaise mustache?” He reached out, wiping the offending condiment from her lip, eliciting shockwaves through her body.
That was the moment she knew she was ready. She had felt excitement from his touch instead of withdrawing the moment he made contact.
He had insisted on being the one to plan the date, as much as she was sure she could still plan a night out, she had to admit that it took some of the pressure off. He wouldn’t tell her where they were going, only that it was somewhere she had been asking to go for a while and he felt she had earned it. Whatever that meant.
She slipped into the pink dress, pulling the straps over her shoulders. Looking in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. She looked feminine, happy, with a glint of hope in her eyes. The tears slipped onto her cheek; Neal had not stolen everything from her.
There was a knock on her door, a smile crept on her face. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and centering her mind. She was taking control of her life tonight.
Opening the door, she couldn’t control the shiver she felt when she saw him come into view. The man she fell in love with so many years ago was standing in front of her. Sure, he was older, the hint of grey kissing his hair, fine lines around his eyes, but he was even more gorgeous today than she remembered him all those years ago. This was the man who was willing to give up his life for her, loved her enough to save her, even if it meant he couldn’t have her.
“You look…”
“I know.” She giggled, accepting the rose he passed toward her. Her nose inhaled the fragrance of the flower, eyes glancing down his frame, the anticipation of the rest of their evening taking her to new heights.
“Shall we?”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Patience is a virtue, love.” He winked.
She rolled her eyes but followed him out to his car. They drove in silence, her hands folded in her lap. The soft sounds of the radio playing through the car.
Trying to live and love,
With a heart that can't be broken,
Is like trying to see the light with eyes that can't be opened.
Yeah, we both carry baggage,
We picked up on our way, so if you love me do it gently,
And I will do the same.
Emma felt the tears sting her eyes. The lyrics breaking into her heart as she chanced a glance at the man sitting beside her, his eyes focused on the road, his jaw tensed, that familiar vein popping from the side of his neck. He never forgot her in all the time she had been gone. She knew how he felt about her. The way he loved her. He’d been so patient with her these last few months. Not pushing her either out the door or into his heart.
We may shine, we may shatter,
We may be picking up the pieces here on after,
We are fragile, we are human,
We are shaped by the light we let through us,
We break fast, cause we are glass.
'Cause we are glass.
He turned toward her, a smile ghosting on his lips that held onto hope. When she walked out the door ten years ago, she knew she still loved him, that she would always love the man who had risked everything for her. Now she knew that back then, before everything went to hell, she was being stubborn walking away, letting her fear of the unknown hold her captive.
I'll let you look inside me, through the stains and through the cracks,
And in the darkness of this moment,
You see the good and bad.
But try not to judge me, 'cause we've walked down different paths,
But it brought us here together, so I won't take that back.
She exhaled, a stray tear slipping against her cheek. She let it fall, not afraid of her emotions anymore. She had been stubborn; she should have known that they would have made anything work. Instead, she walked away and ended up in a hell she couldn’t control.
We might be oil and water, this could be a big mistake,
We might burn like gasoline and fire,
It's a chance we'll have to take.
Emma was ready to let go of all of that. To let go of the ten years she had been robbed of, to forget all the stubborn and foolish decisions that had gotten them to this moment. She wanted to reclaim her life. She wanted to take back what was owed to her.
We are glass.
The song referenced in this chapter is “We are Glass” by Thompson Square. You can hear the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPd1GIwjRFMIt’s a beautiful song and I felt it really summed up the characters in this story.
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facets-and-rainbows · 4 years ago
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Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session
The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.
(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)
1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come
2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants
3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)
4. Rin's tail is about a meter long
5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them
6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings
7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.
8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc
9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.
10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid
11. She likes industrial style interior designs
12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol
13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)
4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol
15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail
16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house
17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.
18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan
19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs
20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol 
21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation
22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute
23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first
24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time
25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen
26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something
27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)
28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.
29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)
30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join
31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it
32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise
33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special
34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends
35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it
36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That
37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou
38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often
39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language
40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end
41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)
42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??
43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids
44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink
45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay
46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN
47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc
48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down
49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]
50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans
51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc
52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)
53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism
54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto
55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like
56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!
57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram
58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!
59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it
60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him
61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject
62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???
63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)
64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!
66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past
67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu
68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background
69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)
70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over
71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way
72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there
73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS
74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet
75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such
76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending
77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively
78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol
79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently
80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved
81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?
82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together
83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication
84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)
85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR
86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there
87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style
88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy
89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved
90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!
91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved
92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means
93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY
94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene
95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable
96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities.  Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol
97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character
98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever
99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters
100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.
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pterodactylterrace · 4 years ago
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Title: Guys Like You
Chapter: 2
Chapter Summary: Cat’s out of the bag now
Rating: 18+ for later chapters
Warning: None for this chapter... maybe some swear words, idk
Prologue Chapter 1
Ever had a bad day? Like, a really, really bad day? Just... one thing goes wrong, and then everything else gets progressively worse from there? Then, just when you think you've finally reached rock bottom for the day and gotten a handle on it, it somehow manages to get even worse?
Well, that was the current situation Faye found herself in. Absolutely everything had gone wrong that morning and now she found herself in a bit of a pickle as she rushed about the, thankfully empty, makeup trailer.
"Just, sit here and watch your tablet, ok?" Faye instructed, sitting the toddler down on a stool tucked back in a hidden corner, praying this would work.  If it didn't, she had no clue what she was going to do.
She rushed back to the chair just as Henry squeezed his massive frame through the tiny door, flashing her a blinding smile as Kal pushed his way in past his legs to settle in his favorite, sunny spot by the door. "There's my favorite artist!"
"Oh, you're such a liar." Faye laughed, leaning into his welcoming hug and giving him a quick squeeze around his midsection, breathing him in when her head pressed into his chest.  Smelling that good should be against the law.
"I would never lie to you." Henry assured, playfully bumping her with his shoulder as he seated himself in his usual chair.
It seemed everything was getting better, things were finally turning around and going well, she was actually going to pull this off! She had already applied the prosthetics, so the hard part was already done with. With a sigh of relief, Faye turned back around to get the foundation ready to blend over the fake scars when she heard it.
"Oh, hello there." Her stomach dropped.
"Hi, I'm Briar!" The little girl greeted enthusiastically, beaming up at the large man sitting in the makeup chair.
"What are you doing here?" Henry asked gently.
"Tablet not working." Briar whimpered, holding the device up despondently, her lower lip sliding out in a pout as tears began collecting in her eyes. Always the drama queen.
"Then let's take a look at it, shall we?" Henry suggested, absently lifting the girl and sitting her on his knee to examine the tablet in her chubby little hands. Faye could swear her heart was going to beat right out of her chest as she watched him tapping away at the screen, the sounds of cocomelon soon spilling from the speakers again, much to the child's delight.
"Yay! Cocomelon, cocomelon!" The little girl cheered, fixing her eyes on the screen.
"Now, sweetheart, where's your mother?" Henry asked, his brows drawn together as he looked at the little girl already mesmerized by the show in front of her.
"That's Mama." Briar quickly explained, pointing directly at Faye before diverting her attention back to her tablet. Henry's brows rose almost comically high as he looked up at Faye, waiting for confirmation of what he was just told. Faye had a daughter? He'd known her for months, how was this just now coming up?
"I... I'm so sorry." Faye quickly apologized, panic beginning to rise in her throat. This was bad, so very bad. Not only did she look like the world's most unprofessional makeup artist, but she was probably in the running for worst mother as well. Who just leaves their kid in the corner while they work? "The babysitter called and canceled this morning and I couldn't find a replacement before work. I thought if she had her tablet she would be quiet and out of everyone's way for the day, but then it stopped working and-"
"Faye. Faye!" Henry interrupted, pausing to make sure she was paying attention. "I need you to calm down. Everything is ok. Things come up, it's not a big deal." He assured, his voice taking on a soothing tone. "Sweetheart, do you like dogs?" Henry asked, turning his attention back to the little girl as she nodded enthusiastically. "Well, you see that dog over there?" He asked, nodding towards a snoozing Kal. "He's mine, and he just loves pets."
"I pet him?" Briar gasped excitedly, passing her tablet off to Henry and squirming out of his lap to scurry over to the sleeping bear, patting him on the top of his head with a clumsy little hand.
"That should keep them both busy enough for us to finish up here." Henry pointed out, settling back into the chair as though nothing had happened. Faye glanced between her daughter, cooing over the bear of a dog by the door and back to Henry a few times, her mind trying to catch up and process what just happened. She shook her head once to clear her thoughts and shakily returned to work, glancing over to the toddler every so often out of habit.
"So were you going to tell me you had a daughter?" Henry finally asked, raising a brow at the woman painting his face.
"I-... It never came up." Faye mumbled, looking back to her daughter as she curled up into the dog's side, babbling away to him about the bedtime story she'd been read last night.
"But why would you hide that?"
"I don't know." Faye lied, focusing her efforts closer to his mouth to end the conversation. Of course she had a reason. A rather simple one at that.
Guys like him aren't interested in single mothers.
Sure, it was a bit silly looking back on it. After all, what chance did she have with Henry? A slim one, if any. That still didn't stop her from hoping he may see something in her. Of course if he did show any interest, she would have eventually told him. Having a child isn't exactly something you can hide, after all. However, she had been hoping to wait until he was more invested in her than just being "his favorite artist".
Too little, too late.
"How old is she?" Henry asked once the brushes moved away from his mouth.
"She'll be three next week." Faye informed quietly, keeping her gaze averted.
"Next week? Do you plan on celebrating?"
"Not really.  All my family is back home in the states.  I was just planning on making her a cake or something, but I'm kind of a crap baker, so I'm on the fence about even doing that."
"I hope you don't mind my asking, but what about her father? Is he going to celebrate with you?"
"No." Faye answered simply, biting her lip and trying not to dwell on the past any more than she had to.
"So exactly how bad are you at baking?" Henry changed the subject, closing his eye as she worked around it.
"Briar, do you like mommy's cakes?"
"No!" Briar quickly answered, Kal's head popping up at the sudden outburst.
"Why not, sweetie?" Faye pressed.
"They're yucky! Bleck!"
"Does that answer your question?" Faye retorted, raising a brow at the man in front of her.
"Would you like help?"
"What?"
"Making a cake. I could help you." Henry offered, locking his eyes on hers.
"You bake?" Faye blurted out, wincing at her sudden outburst as Henry laughed.
"In fact I do. I have a few days off from filming next weekend. If you'd like, I could come over and help you make her a birthday cake."
Was this real life? This couldn't be real life. In real life, handsome men don't just swoop in and offer to make a cake for your daughter. This was some elaborate dream.  Or a very drawn out strip-o-gram.
"I mean... that would be great, but-"
"Perfect, what day works best for you, Friday or Saturday?"
"Uhh... Saturay, I work on Friday."
"Alright, I'll give you my number so you can text me your address. Ten in the morning alright?"
"Yeah, umm... she naps around eleven, so ten is fine."
"So ten on Friday." Henry confirmed as he stood, pulling her in for another hug.
What. Just. Happened?
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ssa-dg · 4 years ago
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Undercover Part 1
part 1, part 2
Tumblr media
Overview: the BAU has gone undercover to find a potential unsub who has been drugging, raping and murdering women. It own becomes a potential victim. Having to play her part to catch the bad guy, you go to the party all dressed up and dance with a potential murderer all while pretending he is someone else, Spencer Reid.
TW: drugs, rape (it is mentioned how the unsub rapes his victims. the reader is drugged and the unsub takes advantage of her being drugged and begins to take off her dress), murder, sex, adult themes. if these types of things are triggering for you please don’t read. I’m just a average person who tried their best to not cause people to be upset. If this is problematic I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to be and will take it down.
Relationship: Spencer Reid x (female)reader
word count: 3,384
Author’s note: so this is my first ever Criminal Minds story. If it garners enough attention I will do more parts (honestly even if it doesn’t I probably will lol) PSA: I have never been under the influence of MDMA and honestly I don’t judge if people who do it consensually and safely (which is harder said then done). this is how I imagine it to be like to be on it. Also I like writing and I like sharing my writing because all of the great fan fics that cause me happiness, if I can cause that reaction just to one person that’s enough for me
You would do anything to save the world. Maybe it was a hero complex, maybe it was some form of glory seeking, or maybe it was the only way you knew how to fill the dark abyss you felt when you did nothing of importance. Being a part of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, helped with that. Being on the team gave you everything you needed, a family and a way to save others. Maybe saying you love your job isn’t the correct way to explain your emotions but you knew no better way. Although you wish a job like this wasn’t necessary and didn’t even exist, it did.
Your team meant the world to you and you would contribute almost in any way to help find an unknown subject. So when Penelope Garcia was able to connect the killings in New York City to some private “rich people” clubs, her and the team created a plan to infiltrate.
The victimology was specific. It was all rich young women ranging from the ages 19-30 who just moved into the city to find themselves.
The profile was an easy one to figure out. He was obviously a troubled young white male who was probably an heir of some sort. He was richer than what most people think is rich. He usually meets the victim at a high society social event. Then he’d take them to a more exclusive social event. After that he would drug them with MDMA, rape and kill them.
It was hard for the BAU to get much out of the enclosed and tight group of New York’s most elite families. So going undercover at an event where the unsub could potentially hunt for prey was what made most sense. Your jobs was to observe the women and men there and try to see if any of you could fish out the unsub. 
They had done it in the past but usually they did their best work by watching and observing. So here the team was, their second night in a row all dolled up in fancy cocktail dresses at some art gallery. Tara Lewis and Luke Alves stood around a table pretending to talk to each other as they observed potential victims. Jennifer Jareau, Spencer Reid, and Matt Simmons stood at another end of the room checking for the potential unsub, while your unit chief, Emily Prentiss, and you were pretending to be alone at the event eavesdropping on rich families. You listened to those around you while also scanning the room looking for potential young white men talking to lone young women. “Ten o’clock to the creepy face painting,” you heard Alvez say in your small earpiece. You calmly turned pretending to look at the other art pieces and saw a white male in his mid-thirties walking up to a female. He placed his hand on her low back as he leaned in to talk to her. Emily being the closest nearby out of you two, moved closer acting like she was going for some hors d’oeuvres. “That’s not him. He’s too drunk. I can smell all the alcohol he has consumed. He would need to be smoother than that,” Emily whispered as she took a sip of her glass. That’s how most of the night went. We followed and stared at people who might be the unsub and then filed them out. You felt yourself losing hope. You hated this part of the job. The one that made you feel like the profile was wrong and you all would have to start over, which there was never time to start over. Someone could die. That’s when you felt a hand touch the small of your back, your body tensed up immediately. “Relax,” he whispered in your ear. But you didn’t need to force it, because when you turned to look at the person who touched you, you were met with the face of beauty and your body instantly relaxed. You knew this was a dangerous reaction, as would probably many of Ted Bundy’s victims.
The man before you had slicked back short dark hair, bright blue eyes, strong symmetry in his facial features, and strong cheek and jaw bones. He smiled wickedly at you, causing you to intake a sharp breath. It was so sinister but also so beautiful. It wasn’t the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen, no that was reserved for your teammate, best friend, and love of your life (even if he didn’t know it) Spencer Reid. Now, Spencer’s smile was one you could get lost in. You refocused yourself to the beautiful man in front of you. “They say the artist intended for this particular piece to show trauma while he was drinking. His other pieces are other emotions on different drugs,” his deep voice rattled through your ears. You wanted to unwrap yourself from this man’s embrace. How dare he touch you like that without your permission. “Play along,” Luke spoke as he saw a scowl beginning to form on your lips, “he could be the unsub.” You smoothed the scowl into a smile. “It doesn’t look like it depicts trauma,” you responded dumbly. The man before you cocked his head to the side giving you a lopsided smile. “I guess it all depends on how someone experiences trauma,” the smile now wicked, and scarier. A shiver went up your spine. “Are you cold?” He asked, noticing it, while looking you up and down like he could devour you. “No,” your voice came out scratchy as your throat went dry. You cleared it politely. “Just thinking-” “About your own trauma?” He asked. You could hear the fake tone of concern. That snapped you out of your fear. The pictures of all the murdered women that brought the BAU to this case flashed before your eyes. “Maybe,” the smile you plastered on your face was a one you knew he wanted, a sad smile. You were going to play this role like it’s no one's business because you were here to catch a bad guy and if flirting with a creep got you there then so be it. He leaned in closer to your ear, “my name is Alistair Constantine,” you immediately recognized the name. It was on the list of potential unsubs for the profile. His family’s money was old, going back to the revolutionary war. The family seemed to always be updating with the times and never losing that money. You leaned into his other ear and introduced yourself.
Spencer’s hands were clutched at his side as he watched you interact with the Constantine boy. He felt in his gut at this moment, Alastair was the unsub. The way he was looking at you, it was like you were a quest to conquer. Spencer knew he couldn’t just come up, break you two apart and blow the whole investigation but boy did he want to.
Alastair paraded you around the room.  Every now and then he would talk to fellow members of the society. It took everything in you to pretend that you didn’t want to beat his ass right then and there. You were always an imaginative kid growing up so you blocked out the gruesome pictures of the crime scenes and instead pretended this was your life a young New York woman getting special treatment from a handsome man. It was easier to fit the rom-com role then what was actually happening. Alistair stopped in front of a painting that was particularly psychedelic looking with bright pastel colors. “This is my favorite piece by the artist. This was when he was on Ecstasy. Look at the happiness and distorted-ness to the art. It’s amazing,” he gushed. It would have been odd that he picked this particular painting to attach too, but it was a strong tie to the method of his killings. “Humankind cannot bear very much of reality,” you spoke out, breaking Spencer from his thoughts about if they had enough information to convict Alistair for the murders. Alistair looked at you funny, not understanding why you would say that. “T. S. Eliot” you told Alistair while Spencer whispered it at the same time. a ghost of a smile playing on your lips when you heard Spencer’s voice. “It’s what I think of when I look at this art. T. S. Eliot is one of my favorite poets,” you blushed at your admission. It felt like for a second, with having just heard Spencer’s voice, that you were talking to him instead of Alistair. Spencer was now looking straight at you two. His eyes held bewilderment, he has known you for years and you never once mentioned this, and he knew you knew this was something he cared about. 
“Indeed,” Alistair yawned. 
The next 30 minutes was you telling him how you’d grown up in Boston, Massachusetts, that you had no close relatives anymore, and how when your parents died their life savings all went to you (all of it true), the lie came when it was to talk about why you moved to New York City, what you wanted to do with your life etc. And he ate it up every second. You played the roll of being the lonely damsel in a big city trying to find the answer to life. You were his ideal victim and you knew that he didn’t even question how perfect you were. 
The night ended with an invite to the society’s ball tomorrow night, and Prentiss fed your ear a fake address for Alistair to send a car to tomorrow. You ordered an Uber to the address where Emily said they’ll pick you up to not seem suspicious in case Alistair sent someone to follow you. Once at the address the FBI’s SUV pulled up and you got in. It was Spencer who picked you up, which was unusual, as he never liked driving. You climbed onto the passenger seat and saw his knuckles were white from the strength of his grip on the steering wheel. It didn’t take a profiler to know Spencer was mad. “Spencer, are you alright?” You approached with a soft whisper. There was a pause of silence, Spencer calculating if he should be honest. He eventually gave into the truth as he knew that he couldn’t hide it from you. “No,” he growled, the anger in his voice causing you to jump in surprise. “No, I am not okay. That man is a murderer and he was holding you in his arm! You two were practically dancing around the room in there. We have put you in danger and now, now you are his next target, his next victim!” he hit the wheel in anger. You had never seen Spencer this angry before. Most times when Spencer got angry, he got smart and he used his logic to fight but now he sounded emotional. “Spencer,” you raised your voice, “I am not a victim, I’m an agent. I will do what it takes to protect others. Just like you.” In anger Spencer swerved the car to the side and put it in park. “Dammit, You don’t get it,” he yelled and turned towards you. “If he is our unsub, which we both know he is, I’ve run the calculations and the risk is too high for you,” his hands flying everywhere in gestures, “There are too many dependent variables. There isn’t enough for us to control. The probability of you getting hurt or,” he stopped to collect himself, and in a quieter voice said, “or worse, it’s too high. I’ve run the math.” Now that sounded more like the Spencer you knew. A soft smile crept onto your lips, then you quickly neutralized your face, in hopes he wouldn’t see the way his concern for you made you feel. And You couldn’t do that to yourself. You couldn’t let yourself feel happiness when Spencer showed you affection, because it eventually just leads to heart break. Subconsciously, you turned more towards him in your seat, “In your math is there probability that we get this guy and he never gets the opportunity to hurt another woman again?” You asked. Spencer gave you a pained look like he knew where you were going. You countered that look with one that told him to answer the question. He let out a heavy sigh, “yes. There is that possibility.” You smiled at him knowing you won the argument, “That settles it then.”
With everyone back in the small conference room at the police station, the conversation began about what to do tomorrow. No one was pleased that one of their own is now the target but there was truth that the situation was now more in the BAU’s control than before. Everyone also believed in you. They knew the risk and that scared them but also you are a Special Advisory Agent for a reason. Relief did not fill you but neither did dread, when you thought of the plan. You were doing the right thing. It didn’t matter if you were going to put yourself in danger.
Spencer kept pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. Something that happened when he started to get headaches and you could guess this headache was caused by stress. As the rest of the team started packing up, you stared at your best friend hurting over the stress you were causing. You took a seat next to Spencer. He was still wearing his suit from the party. “We are going to be okay tomorrow,” you comforted him. He looked up at you, “I’m not worried about all of us, I’m worried about you,” he confessed. Once again, you knew these words shouldn’t have an effect on you like they did, but it did and this time there was something that felt hidden behind those words, something more. “I trust you not to let anything happen to me,” You countered and placed your hand on his forearm to comfort him. You looked in his eyes and tried to let him know that there is more than just trust there. 
The day of the ball, you got ready in the police station bathroom. It wasn’t exactly how you imagined to be getting ready for your first ball in New York City. You’d rather be wearing this gown for other reasons than going undercover to catch a murderer rapist. The Givenchy dress Garcia picked out was gorgeous (as you instructed her to get a designer to fit in the crowd and you would float the bill). It was a long evening dress in blue and green with a gradient-effect. The top had long puffed sleeves, deep V-neckline, and waist accentuated with smooth lamé and long flared skirt. You put your hair up in a loose low bun. The makeup you did was a smooth eye with long flair eyeliner. You put a heavy amount of glow highlighter on your cheek bones and collar bones to accentuate the deep v cut the dress. 
You felt ridiculous walking out of the bathroom into the police station wearing your dress. But the way Spencer looked at you was something powerful and intoxicating, making you forget your embarrassment. You strode up to him. A small smile played on your lips looking up at him. You saw him also smiling at you “You’re almost as tall as me,” he blurted out. You let out a small laugh, “‘I guess that’s what heels will do,” you smiled looking down at your feet. Spencer felt ridiculous that’s what he said. He should have told you how amazing you looked or how your beauty felt like the sun- always pulling him in and having his thoughts orbit around you. But he wasn’t good with voicing his feelings (especially in a room with his colleagues). 
“We are going to have Officer Melinda Jackson drive you over to the apartment, And stake out the car. She’ll be on the radio the whole time till you are in range with us. We will be at the Capitale when you get there.” Emily disclosed as she strapped on a microphone and earpiece.
You stepped out of the car with your head held high even though your anxiety was on another level. “i’m here,” you whispered. “We are here too,” Tara responded. Everyone disclosed where each one was to you. The venue was massive and beautiful. The ceiling was tall with ornate decorations. The lighting was a bright orangish glow. As you examined the room, checking each point of your team, you also saw Alistair. He was at the bar with what looked like to be a group of his friends. Spencer not too far behind them. You walked towards Alistair but kept your eyes on Spencer. He took your breath away dressed in a tux and his hair slicked back like he used to when he was younger. It felt like your heart was lit on fire just by looking at him all dressed up. He was staring at you intensely. It wasn’t that the world stopped the moment your eyes met his, but it was more like everything else just didn’t matter. You knew you’d have to look away soon to not give away anything but you took him in for just one more second. “You look amazing,” you heard a voice next to you say. You turned to see the ever good looking Alistair. He wore a navy 3 piece suite with a large Gucci tag on the sleeve, and a large Gucci flower pinned on his chest. You gave him a soft smile and returned his compliment. “I want to introduce you to my family. Their approval means everything,” he offered you his arm. You took it tentatively,  Spencer watched him lead you away, and he pondered on Alistair’s odd statement about family approval. 
Alistair’s family was everything you’d expect. They were proper and pompous. However they liked you, a lot. You fell right into the role you had to play. You stood there laughing and engaged in the conversation with his mom and cousin. 
“Shall we dance?” Alistair asked, giving you his hand, as your conversation with his sister came to an end. You nodded and let him take you to the dance floor. 
He spun you out and brought you back in close to start the dancing. You gave him a bright smile at his eccentric action. You closed your eyes and let your mind pretend it was Spencer holding you. You followed his lead as he twirled you both around the dance floor. “Stop dancing, we can’t see you,” Spencer frantically said into your ear piece. You snapped your eyes open. Taking in that you were on a secluded corner of the dance floor by an exit door. “You are special. My family, They like you” Alistair said with a sense of manic to it. “you aren’t like the others,” he admitted. His voice sounded different. It was sinister with a tinge of adoration. He pulled you close, so close that his fingers dug into your hand and back. You felt like your brain was freezing up in fear. How many times had you been in fear inducing situations and why did your brain pick now to not work. “you’re hurting me,” you groaned trying to pull yourself away. “Where are you” JJ yelled but then you felt mist hit you, and your mind begin to make things fuzzy, “the left corner, the spray…in the flower,” you breathed out, hoping the team could hear you. You heard a rattle of commands to your co-workers from Emily. Then it went black.
Spencer rushed through the crowd to find you but by the time he got to the corner you told him you were at, you were gone. “She’s not here,” Spencer panicked into the ear piece. “I just saw a black Tesla leave, license plate delta, alpha, hotel nine, one, two ” Luke informed them. “Call and ask them to run it”, Rossi said urgently. “on it,” Luke replied. “JJ and Reid, go talk to the mom and sister, Tara and Matt split up and talk to his friends and the other family members. They have to know where they are,” Emily demanded
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