#but something about doing it now just feels weird. like kind of a shitty move

[nanaloveswo-men]

hey ma'am?

one pieces characteres eating a weird fruit that turns them into a woman

warnings: slight suggestive (freakssss), kind of bissexual reader? i mean, she doesn’t complain to see a hot woman, cursing

characters: Zoro, Marco, Mihawk, Crocodile, Shanks

wc: 7800k (1900, 1700, 1100, 1350, 1750) this is so long i'm sorry

if you want to see any other character in this scenario, or any other scenario pls let me know! i'm open to any request or suggestion

Zoro

Shitty cook had poisoned him. He had put something on his meal. Zoro was sure of it.

Zoro had woken up just fine, he did his morning workout, had his breakfast, and took a nap. Everything was fine, just like any other day. Until it wasn't.

After lunch, Zoro felt like something hadn't sat right in his stomach. He felt sick, like he had never felt before. So of course, this had to be curly eyebrow's fault.

It's a shame that you didn't think the same.

"Of course, it's Sanji's fault, not the hundred cups of sake you had last night. Who could think such stupidity?" Zoro was laying on your bed. Head buried deep on your pillow. Whining like a baby about his hangover being caused by the delicious food Sanji had cooked.

Zoro wasn't appreciating the ironic tone in your voice, and if he was feeling just a little bit better, he would let you know it. However, the pounding on his head was only getting worse.

Your boyfriend was in a miserable state right now, and even though he was a dummy, you loved him enough to take pity on him. "I know you are big and strong, but you know, sometimes you have to take it easy on the alcohol."

Sitting on the bed by his side, you petted his hair, watching carefully as he laid his head on your lap. Now, his face was buried in your thighs.

"It's shitty cook's fault. Not the alcohol." He groaned under his breath. In response, you just rolled your eyes, deciding that this conversation wasn't worth the trouble.

Silence engulfed the room for some minutes. Zoro kept his head on your thigh focusing to sleep again, while you took your time tracing the features of his face, slowly massaging his scalp.

The sound of something breaking outside the room reminded you that you still had to do your tasks of the day.

"I have to go now, baby." You tried to slip out of his reach, but Zoro only tightened his grip on you, making it impossible to escape.

"Stay." His deep voice, full of sleep, reached your ears, causing you to smile at the vulnerability in his words.

You patted his back, signaling for him to move, and without another word (besides the groans), he moved to the other side of the bed.

"Promise that when I'm back, I'm going to cuddle you so hard your hangover will disappear." You whispered, hoping to get on his good side again.

Zoro went back to the pillow he was holding before your thighs came in the picture, gripping it harder than before. "It's not a hangover."

His voice was muffed by the pillow, making you laugh at his terrible state.

"I'll be right back, okay?" You left a kiss on his forehead before leaving the room to do your tasks. You promised to help Robin with organizing her books, and Ussop was bugging you to help him clean his workshop for a while now.

Stretching your limbs, you prepared yourself for the day ahead.

...

Helping Robin was easy. She knew exactly where she wanted her books to be placed, so you mostly just put them on the shelves where she indicated.

Ussop was the problem. He wasn't exactly a messy man, but when you got a closer look at his workshop, you guessed that he hadn't done any cleanup there for the last 2 months at least.

But the big mess didn't bother you at all. The awkward silence between the two of you was the real problem. Since you stepped a foot into the room, Ussop had been awfully quiet, going against his usual talkative persona.

Whenever you looked at him, you could see his shoulder get tense, like you were some kind of threat.

"Okay, spill the tea now." You said, tired from whatever was going on. "I know you are hiding something, so tell me, and we can end this silence."

You watched as Ussop swallowed his own spit.

"I have no idea of what you're talking about." If you weren't sure enough before, Ussop's awkward laugh made you sure.

He was hiding something.

Sighing loudly, you left the stool you were cleaning, heading to where the man was sitting.

"Come on, Ussop. We are friends, you can trust me." You nudged him with your shoulder.

"Sanji and I put a fruit that turns you into a woman in Zoro's food." He said it in a rush, scared from your reaction.

Your face frowned at his words, what was he talking about? "Zoro? A woman? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Well, Chopper found this fruit at the last island we were in, and I brought it to the ship. I was going to give it to Luffy, but Sanji convinced me to put it in Zoro's food."

When he was finished, Ussop kept looking at you, waiting for your reaction. Honestly, he was waiting for you to scream at him.

You supposed you should be mad, but you thought this whole situation was kind of funny. You knew that Ussop didn't mean anything bad from it, so you were sure that the fruit wouldn't cause any real damage to Zoro.

Ussop was caught off guard when he heard you giggling. "So, did Sanji sneak it into Zoro's lunch today?"

"Yeah! Chopper said it takes some hours to make an effect, so I think Zoro must be a woman now." Realizing that you weren't mad at all, Ussop felt more at ease to talk to you again. "How do you think he is going to look?"

"Well, there is only one way to find it out." You said, raising from where you were sitting with Ussop.

...

Slowly you opened the door, carefully, to not make any sound that would startle Zoro. With his super instinct, he would, for sure, know that you entered the room, but you hoped that he would go back to sleep when he noticed it was you.

You stood by the closed door, and when Zoro didn't make any move to rise from his sleepy position, you walked closer to him.

Just like Ussop had said, Zoro was now a woman. You knew that. You walked into the room expecting to see him with a different body. But you couldn't help but be surprised by the sight in front of you.

Strands of green hair covered part of his face, and if he was sitting, you thought that the tips of his hair would be touching his shoulders.

His usual dry lips now shone, and you wanted to taste them so fucking bad.

Zoro was a beautiful man, but now with his features softened, he looked divine.

You let your eyes wander a bit on his body, but you quickly turned your gaze back to his face. For some reason, you were feeling shy.

"Why are you staring at me, woman?"

Oh, god. If you thought that this couldn't get any better, you were wrong. Zoro's voice was hoarse from his nap, and it sounded absolutely amazing. You wished that he continued talking.

However, Zoro kept looking at you, waiting for an answer. Apparently, he hadn't noticed the changes in his body, nor in his voice.

"You were right. Sanji did put something on your food."

You watched as Zoro's face went from sleepy, to confused, to angry.

"What the hell do you mean?" He asked, finally rising from the bed and giving you the perfect view of his chest and slim waist. You felt your face getting warm.

"Well, it was kind of Ussop's idea, but it's a long story. Don't worry about it. You will be better tomorrow."

Now Zoro was glaring at you. What do you mean by "don't worry"? Shitty cook had messed with his goddamn food! And what did Ussop have to do with this?

"I'm going to beat the shit out of those two." Zoro was getting up when he finally noticed the changes on him.

He froze.

Looking down at his hands, which should be big and calloused, now were small and soft.

He also felt his hair picking at his shoulder, and he was sure his boobs weren't big like this before.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" The words came out through his clenched teeth, and for a moment you thought that Zoro was having a migraine.

You approached him slowly, waiting to see if he would be uncomfortable by your presence. When he did nothing, you touched his hands.

"Sooo, for the next 24 hours, you will be a woman." Zoro's eyes almost fell from his face. "We can have a girls' night if that makes you feel better."

You smiled at him, waiting for his next reaction. Contrary to what you expected, Zoro laughed. Really laughed. And you loved it.

After some minutes, Zoro was more relaxed with his temporary body. He even checked himself in the mirror.

"So, shitty cook wanted to see me as a woman?" From the smirk on his face, you knew that Zoro was planning something. You smiled, confirming with your head. "What a pervert."

You couldn't help but giggle a bit, In a way, Sanji did want to see Zoro as a woman. You were sure your boyfriend was planning to use this against the cook in the near future.

"How are you feeling?" You asked, sincerity showing in your voice. Even though you were having fun with the transformation, you didn't want Zoro to feel uncomfortable.

He exhaled slowly, like he was thinking on his next words. "It was weird in the first minutes, but curly brows wouldn't dare to damage me."

In the end, Sanji and Zoro were friends, even if both of them denied it. Now, it was your turn to exhale slowly, letting your body sink into the soft mattress.

You catch yourself sneaking glances at Zoro, who was displayed on your bed like a cat. He did look good, you couldn't blame Sanji.

"Now I'm wishing that the effect wasn't temporary. I wouldn't mind having you like this forever." You knew you were playing with his bottoms, but you couldn't hold yourself from having a little fun.

At your words, Zoro's brows immediately furrowed, and he turned his gaze to you. "I'm much better than her." He said, mad that you thought about replacing him.

You threw your head back laughing, seeing that he was upset.

"There is no 'her', Zo. It's all you."

Your words did not soften the sour expression on his face.

"She is not me! And she is clearly getting your attention." Zoro was getting frustrated now.

He didn't mind the situation at all, since he was getting back to his own body in some hours. He never thought that you could like this version of him more than the original.

Despite his grumpy expression, you were finding everything very alluring.

"Roronoa Zoro, don't tell me you're getting jealous of yourself?" Even though he wasn't seeing your face, Zoro knew that you were smirking at him.

"Shut it, woman."

He wasn't jealous, he just didn't want your attention on anyone besides himself. Even if it was another version of himself.

"Can't wait to tell Nami this."

Your smile was the last thing Zoro saw before closing his eyes to nap again.

Marco

Besides being the crew of the strongest man in the world, the Whitebeard's pirates were a bunch of kids. Literally brats.

At this point, you were used to almost everything that happened. Seeing naked men, random explosions, people getting thrown in the sea, Ace sleeping on top of his plate. All those things were part of your day, and you wouldn't trade it for anything else.

However, sometimes things got too intense, and you needed a safe spot to calm down. Marco was who you sought when you needed some peace.

As the rest of the crew, Marco had his moments of insanity, but whenever it was needed, he was the person who put things back in their place.

Sometimes, though, he couldn't help but be caught in the middle of the mess.

The Moby Dick was docked at some random island to get supplies, but as always, the crew took the chance to step on the land and have some fun while they could.

Marco, Tatch, Ace, and you wandered around for some time before Ace spotted a stall vending different kinds of fruits.

"HA! Let's get something from there!"

"Now, this is a surprise. Never seen Ace so eager to buy fruits." Tatch said.

The three of you stood watching until Ace called out, exclaiming he had a wonderful idea.

"I guess we gotta see it, yoi." Marco murmured to you. Grabbing your hand, he went after Ace.

The merchant, an old lady, was happy to receive the brothers at her stall. It had been a while since she saw a group of young men getting so excited over some fruits.

"I bet I can choose the sweetest fruit just by looking at it!" Ace exclaimed, looking expectantly at his brothers and gaining some looks from the people passing by.

Marco sighed loudly, sensing the mess this bet would turn into. "This is stupid. We are not doing that, yoi."

"Are you scared? I thought birds were supposed to know when fruits are ready to eat." Thatch joked, already picking up and inspecting the fruits on display to find the best one.

You laughed at them, happy to just be part of the atmosphere. While they bickered about the bet, you took your time analyzing the products displayed.

The fruits were unlike anything you'd seen before, some spiky, others smooth and plump, with colors ranging from bright oranges to deep purples.

After some minutes, the brothers were done, and you quirked your brow when you noticed that Marco had joined the bet after all.

"I thought this was stupid?" You looked inside the bag he was holding, trying to see which fruit he had chosen: a yellow one, also kind of spiky. If you looked quick enough, it could be mistaken as a pineapple. "Do you even know what fruit this is?"

"Dunno. But I'm sure it will be sweet." He said, closing the bag and holding your hand, ready to go back to the Moby Dick.

Lost in your chat with Marco, you didn't notice the mischievous smile on Ace's face.

Moments later, at the ship, you sat in horror watching Marco trying to swallow a piece bigger than his mouth of the unknown fruit.

Ace already had tasted the one he chose, and it was absolutely citric, while the one Tatch picked tasted incredibly sweet. Marco was the last one to taste the fruit he picked and the one who could defeat Tatch.

When he was finally able to swallow the piece he cut, Marco's face turned into a grimace, making a big smile stretch on Tatch's face.

"This one tastes like shit, yoi."

You and the few men around laughed. Tatch celebrated his victory, satisfied to show his talent around.

On the side, Ace held a pout on his lips. Obviously, he wasn't expecting to lose. You rolled your eyes at him. How did he expect to win against the crew's cook?

"It was fun while it lasted." Marco said when he got to your side. "But I think I need a nap now. Care to join?"

Before you could answer, the blonde was already passing his arms around your waist, throwing your body on his shoulder. Clearly, you didn't have a choice here.

The crew laughed at your surprised gasp, enjoying to see you struggle a bit.

You tried to get back on your feet for a couple of seconds before accepting your fate.

After running the whole morning trying to find the supplies you needed, you could use a nap, especially if your boyfriend was so eager to cuddle you a bit.

Marco found a good spot on the ship before sitting down, adjusting your body on the top of his bigger one.

You would complain that he couldn't just pick you up whenever he felt like it, but the warmth coming from his body against yours was too good to resist, so you decided to let him manhandle you for now.

...

Ace's laugh was loud. Loud enough to take you off from the dream you were having. Looking at the sun setting down in the horizon, you guessed that a couple of hours had passed.

Ready to ignore Ace's obnoxious laugh, you turned around, pressing your face against Marco's chest, only to feel him tense up.

Or you thought he was tensing up from the grip he had on your waist because you never made contact with his hard chest.

In a second, Marco was taking you off him, leaving your ass on the ground when he lifted. You quickly turned your face back to the man, ready to scold him for leaving you so brutally.

Instead of the broody figure you were used to, your eyes met a slim shape.

Shorter than Marco used to be, long blond hair, and a cute perked-up ass, the woman in front of you was definitely a sight for sore eyes. But she was wearing Marco's clothes, and she was holding you where Marco was supposed to be.

What the hell is happening?

The woman faced Ace, her hands closed in fists, clearly upset about something. She aimed to punch him, but he dodged, laughing at the poor attempt to hit him.

"Don't be such a dick, Marco." Ace was holding a smirk on his face, obviously enjoying the fury of the woman.

But wait, did he just call the strange-and-hot-look-alike-your-boyfriend woman Marco?

A hint of shyness hit Ace, making his face turn red, before he looked anywhere but in the woman's direction. "Also, don't move too much, your shirt is open, and I can almost see your boobs."

Apparently, this made the woman self-conscious, since she turned away from him, finally giving you the chance to look at her face. You couldn't be more surprised.

Her eyes were filled with anger, but you would recognize that lazy stare even if you hadn't seen it in a thousand years.

"When I go back to normal, I'm going to kill you, yoi." The woman said, tugging her shirt to cover her breasts.

Ace's shyness went away, and he laughed harder than before, gaining attention from the people who were passing by. They curiously looked in your direction, trying to see what was happening.

You gasped when you finally understood what had happened. You looked between Marco and Ace. The first one was trying to cover himself, and the other was trying to gain his breath after laughing.

A frown appeared on your face. "Get screwed, all of you!" You shouted to the men. All of them run away, knowing better than to piss you off.

Instinctively, you reached for Marco, tugging him (or her? You weren't sure anymore) under your embrace, protecting his new body from prying eyes. Especially Ace's eyes.

"I should have known that you wouldn't be so happy to see fruits." You said, pressing Marco closer to your body when Ace tried to get a closer look.

Ace dismissed your glaring. "Yeah, yeah, I fooled the two lovebirds, now let me show Tatch our new girl." He reached for Marco, but she (he?) was faster, using her devil fruit and kicking Ace right in his crotch.

"Show him your blue balls, yoi." Marco said, satisfied to see his brother kneeling down on the floor. "After the effect of this pass, you better run."

...

"Thanks for protecting me back there." Marcos said when you two reached his personal cabin.

He looked at himself in the mirror, the bored expression he usually held was now disturbed a bit, but you noticed that he was much more relaxed after knowing that the fruit's effect only lasted 24 hours.

You jumped onto his bed, making yourself comfortable before patting the spot beside you. "Don't worry, girls protect girls."

"I'm not a girl." He retorted, taking the spot you offered. "I'm a fully grown woman, yoi."

Now it was your turn to laugh. "You're right, I'm sorry."

A peaceful silence settled between you two, but you couldn't help but notice that Marco kept sneaking looks at his new self on the mirror.

Without even noticing what he was doing, Marco twisted his long hair around his finger, amused by the transformation. At the same time, though he found the situation awkward, he was also kind of fascinated by everything.

"Do you like what you see?" You asked, positioning yourself behind him.

You felt him jump a bit with the sudden contact, not expecting to feel you against his back.

Red spread across his cheeks, and you chuckled, amused to see the commander of the 1st division of the Whitebeard Pirates so shy about his appearance.

"I like it." You reassured. Putting your head on his shoulder, you kissed his jaw, making sure to let him know how much you loved him.

No matter what he looked like, he was still your Marco, and you loved him.

A mischievous smile appeared on your face as an idea popped into your mind, ready to let him know how much you adored him.

You looked at his reflection, sliding your hands down his arms. "So, do you want to put that mirror to good use?"

Maybe this situation wasn't so bad after all, Marco thought.

Mihawk

Mihawk was still looking at the strange fruit sitting on his kitchen counter. He wouldn't eat it, no matter the puppy eyes Perona was sending him behind the counter.

Earlier that night, Perona happily gifted him the weird fruit, proclaiming that she had bought it from the best farm on whatever island she had been on before. You instantly thanked her for her kind gesture, but Mihawk wasn't having any of it. The fruit looked awfully weird, and he definitely was not going to eat it, not by any chance.

Well, he didn't eat it for, like, five minutes, when you appeared from behind him and saw the pout on Perona's face.

"When someone gives you a present, you must accept it." You said before shoving the fruit closer to his direction.

How could he deny his darling wife?

Surprisingly, the taste wasn't as bad as it looks, and Mihawk was satisfied that in the end he did, in fact, eat the weird fruit (he would thank Perona later with a delicious homemade meal).

That night, he lay by your side on the bed, quietly hugging your body from behind, his stomach full of wine and the fruit you happily fed him.

Morning came as quick as always, the sunray slowly entering the big bedroom's window, gently waking you up from your slumber.

Not wanting to leave the bed just yet, you snuggled closer to your husband, feeling his hard chest on your back.

Or at least you were expecting to feel it. Instead, your back met some soft surface, startling you from your sleep. You groaned, wanting to feel your husband's warmth.

Expecting to grab the pillow between you and Mihawk, you extended your hand behind your head. However, your fingers grabbed some strands of hair.

"What are you doing, my love?"

Your groggy brain was late to catch the feminine voice, but when it did, you were quick to rise from the bed.

In the spot where your husband was supposed to be lying, was now a woman. A beautiful woman. A strange and beautiful woman.

"Why are you looking at me like that, my love?" Again, the strange woman was calling you "my love", just like your dear husband would.

Looking closer at the woman, you noticed that she kind of resembled Mihawk. Sharp eyes, dark and spiky hair, nice and smooth voice, and especially, the loving eyes she was giving you.

That woman couldn't be your husband, right?

"Mihawk?" You whispered, finally getting on the bed again.

"Yes, my love. Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?" The woman, or better, Mihawk, asked, extending his hand to you.

But wait, why did his hand look so... Feminine?

Mihawk raised his hands to his eyes, examining every part of them. His fingers were thin, and he definitely remembered his palm being way more rough.

"Okay, don't panic, but you are a woman now." You said, looking straight at his face, waiting for a reaction.

The woman-your-husband silently rose from the bed, walking to the mirror hanging on your wall, and examining herself. For some seconds, she kept looking at the reflection, turning around and touching herself.

You kept looking at Mihawk-woman's face, waiting to get some sort of reaction, but even in another body, your husband was still the same, no-expression person.

Without saying anything, Mihawk left the bedroom, leaving you behind. You kept still on your spot, one leg hanging off the bed and the other under the covers, inviting you to go back to sleep. You blinked slowly, looking at yourself in the mirror. Hopefully, all of this would be only a strange dream.

Perona's laugh snapped you out of your stupor, and you jumped out of the bed.

In the living room, Perona was lying on the couch, almost falling out of it from how much she was laughing. You wonder how she felt so comfortable when Mihawk was absolutely staring her down. You had seen people crying only from this stare, but here she was, laughing at the hawkeye and easily getting away with it.

"You did this." Mihawk wasn't asking, he was stating.

Suddenly, it hit you. The fruit. The way Perona was so eager to get Mihawk to taste it. Everything was planned from the beginning. You had been fooled by a little girl.

You couldn't hide the amusement on your face, and Perona only laughed more when she looked at you. In this situation, you couldn't help but let a giggle escape from your mouth.

Mihawk looked at you, his face clearly showing his disappointment—both at Perona for tricking him after everything he had done for her, and at you for convincing him to eat the damn fruit. At least Roronoa wasn't here anymore to see this betrayal.

Besides the grumpy expression, you could see the little sparkle in Mihawk's eyes, showing that he was, even if a little bit, having fun with the whole situation.

"Don't worry, the effect only lasts for 24 hours." Perona had finally gained enough breath to speak. "You will be back to your boring body in no time."

"You're with the kitchen and bathroom cleaning for a week." He said, turning back to your room.

"What??? No!!" Perona screamed, the smile she was holding finally falling from her face.

She looked expectantly at you, hoping that you would do something.

"Sorry, you should have seen this coming." You said before running after your husband. Or wife, for now.

...

"I think you look hot." You said, hugging your husband from behind. "Your boobs look great too, I felt them soft on my back."

You couldn't reach his chest before his delicate hands got your own. Mihawk turned to face you, finally leaving the mirror behind.

"This is also your fault." Before you could protest, he pinched your cheek. "For making me eat the fruit."

"Sorry, didn't know the kid had the fire to do such a thing." You said gnawing at his (her?) boobs. The open bottoms on the shirt kind of did the job.

Mihawk sighed loudly at your behavior. He couldn't deny that his ego felt good at your clear appreciation of his female version, but he was still mad at the whole situation.

"And what if I had to stay as a woman forever?"

You thought for a moment. Well, some things would have to change for sure, but you would still love him nonetheless. Man or not, it was your Mihawk, after all.

"I would miss your dick for sure, but-"

"Stop."

"Sorry."

Mihawk couldn't wait to go back to his own masculine body.

Crocodile

Buggy had a death wish, you knew it from the first time you met him. Even in his position at the Cross Guild, he still managed to piss off both Crocodile and Mihawk, leading to countless beatings.

You were sure that today he wanted to share his death wish with you because you couldn't see any other reason why he was proposing this right now.

The fruit in his palm looked appetizing enough, and if any other person were offering it to you, you would take it without a second glance, but since it was the clown's offer, you knew whatever it was, it meant trouble.

"Crocodile will kill both of us." You stated, turning your back to him. You wouldn't be part of his suicidal plan.

Buggy cried out loud, his upper body instantly appearing in front of you. "He won't even lay a finger on your ass, and you know this!" He said, grabbing your shoulder with his flying hands.

You shuddered at the feeling. Even after all these months with the clown, you still weren’t used to seeing his body split apart.

Well, Buggy wasn't wrong, in fact. Crocodile did have a soft spot for you, but you weren't sure where your relationship with him stood, and you weren't eager to find it out either.

"Why do you want to do this? Are you some kind of masochist?" Buggy would, for sure, get his ass beaten if Crocodile ever found out the clown was the one behind the plan.

The clown smirked, clearly proud of whatever he was doing. "A real man knows when to face a challenge."

Yep, he was very stupid.

But for a moment, you imagined: Mrs. Crocodile would be hot, you were sure.

You would regret this later, but right now, the thought of seeing Crocodile as a woman—and pissing him off in the process—was too tempting to resist.

"Let's do it then." You said, grabbing the fruit out of his hand.

...

You stood in front of Crocodile's door, silently waiting for his approval to enter his office. The bowl in your hands seemed heavier than before, and you cursed Buggy in your mind.

However, you didn't have time to regret your decisions, since Crocodile's voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Come in."

As usual, Crocodile was sitting on his expensive chair, behind his even more expensive desk. The bastard's smirk never left his face whenever he was with you.

"Brought you a little sweet treat, boss." You placed the fruit bowl on his desk and waited for his reaction.

You bringing him something to eat while he worked nonstop was nothing new. But the perfectly cut fruit and the nervous smile on your face? Now that was suspicious.

You weren't fool enough to trick him, were you?

"Why don't you feed it to me, then?" Crocodile demanded, spreading his legs to make just enough space for you to sit perfectly on his lap.

Slowly, you walked in his direction, carefully settled yourself on top of his thigh, adjusting your legs for a more comfortable position. Crocodile didn't wait for your approval to pass his arm around your waist, his hook dangerously close to you.

You smiled, lifting the fork to his mouth, waiting to feed him the first piece you chose from the bowl.

"You work too much, sir." You hummed, happy to see his lips closing around the fork.

Even if you had a plan to stick to, you couldn't deny that you loved these sweet moments with Crocodile.

Crocodile said nothing as he ate the fruit, letting the sweet flavor fill his mouth. While he chewed, you took your time admiring the face of the man you loved.

"Someone has to work." He said, probably referring to Mihawk, who spent all his time drinking wine and wandering around, and Buggy, who, well, was Buggy. "I'm lucky to have such a good assistant that is always willing to help me."

Crocodile went back to the papers on his desk, and you continued feeding him, appreciating the silence in the room. When you were finished, you left the office, ready to fulfill your tasks.

Hours had passed, and neither you nor Buggy had heard anything from Crocodile, making you both assume that the fruit had failed.

"I suppose it's for the best." You whispered to yourself.

In a way, you were relieved that Buggy's plan hasn't work, since you weren't sure how Crocodile would react. But you couldn't help but be a little disappointed, you really wanted to see Miss Crocodile.

Moments later, a presence behind you startled you from your peaceful thoughts.

"Sir Crocodile is looking for you." Daz sounded as calm as ever, but something in the way he was looking at you made you nervous. "If I were you, I wouldn't make him wait."

Without another word, he left.

Buggy definitely owed you a big one.

In your short walk to the office, you wondered if Crocodile had the nerve to actually kill you, but you pushed the idea away, not wanting to even think about it.

Your hand almost brushed the wood before the door swung open. At the same time, you felt sand covering your wrist, pulling you inside the room.

The sheer force of the action made you trip on your feet, but the same sand that dragged you inside quickly stabilized you so you wouldn't fall on the floor.

When you were free from the sand, you finally had time (and courage) to look at Crocodile. You were already expecting him to look like a woman, since it was your plan from the beginning, but still, nothing could ever prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Crocodile turned out to be a stunning woman. You felt heat creeping up your face and neck from just looking at her.

Black and silk hair falling on her shoulder, sharp purple eyes, plump and shiny lips. Everything was adding to the classy woman sitting on the chair.

Damn, the scar on her forehead was definitely making her way more sexy than it should.

Miss Crocodile was hot. Very hot.

You could also see a peak of her boobs from the neckline of the loose shirt.

Crocodile grunt took you out from your not-so-innocent thoughts.

"Am I in trouble?"

Sand reached both of your wrists again, pulling you towards the desk. "Take a guess."

"No?" You felt the sand grip tightening in your pulse, making you stumble onto the desk. Your hands were firmly pressed against the wood, pushing your front up so you could face the boss.

"Take another guess." Crocodile said before raising herself from the chair. Slowly, she walked around the desk, standing right behind you.

Unfortunately, the sand was still circling your wrists, so you couldn't turn around to face her.

"If this makes anything better, I think you look really hot." The cold of Crocodile's hook startled you, making you jump a bit. "I'm sorry, I was tricked into this."

"How so?" Crocodile seemed to be invested in the situation, and you knew that he liked seeing you in such a submissive position.

The sand grip that was pushing you onto the desk finally loosened a bit, allowing you to turn around to face the woman. However, the hook was still pressed around your neck.

"Buggy offered the fruit, and my brain thought that you would make a sexy woman, so, you know, I gave up in my primal urges." Even though the smile on your face was sweet and innocent, the look in your eyes revealed how much you were liking the current situation.

Crocodile finally took the hook off your neck before replacing it with his meat hand. From the angle she-he was now, you could see the silhouette of her body perfectly.

"Did I live up to your expectations?" Crocodile asked, pressing her body against yours.

"From what I'm seeing, yes, but I need to get a closer look at your ass to be sure."

Crocodile only looked at you before letting his maniac laugh out.

"Pretty please?" You begged.

After this, you would have to thank Buggy and his wonderful ideas.

Shanks

Red-haired Shanks, one of the four emperors of the sea, former member of the King of Pirates' crew. The man was many things and could go by a hundred names. But for you, Shanks was mostly stupid.

A stupid man. A stupid, drunken man.

Since you met him many years prior, when he had no name for himself, you knew that he meant trouble, but unfortunately for you and for your next generation, you fell completely in love with this stupid man.

On normal days, Shanks was already a problem, always giving you and Benn headaches when you both had to deal with the mess he created. You were okay with that, you loved his troublesome ass.

However, after many years of dealing with Shanks, you discovered the thing that pissed you off the most: drunk Shanks. Not the tipsy version of him (you loved when he got tipsy and needy for you), but the very drunk and wasted version.

Parties were common on the Red Force, and most of the time, Shanks drank until he got a good buzz. He swayed a bit when he walked, his laugh became louder than usual, and, your personal favorite, he got affectionate with everyone on board (or on land), especially with you.

You loved tipsy Shanks as much as you loved the sober Shanks.

Sometimes, though, Shanks drank like the world would end the next morning and this was his last night alive. You hated it.

Drunk Shanks was a pain in the ass. He couldn't stand on his own, he forced everyone to drink as much as he did, and worst of all, he got so clingy that you couldn’t even go to the bathroom without dealing with a crying baby Shanks.

And to seal the deal, over the past few months, drunk Shanks had developed a habit you were starting to despise as much as his clinginess: he ate anything and everything anyone gave to him. Whether it was edible or not.

A simple 'Eat this!' was enough to make him gulp down anything.

You were the one who had to deal with the aftermath of his gourmet culinary adventure.

Apparently, tonight is going to be one of the nights where drunk Shanks makes an appearance.

You looked around the bar, eyes searching for your husband. It wasn't hard to find him, since he was the loudest person in the room, his laugh could probably be heard from outside the establishment.

His hair was disheveled, like he had passed his hair on it too many times, and for some seconds you wished to tug the strands off his face.

The loving moment didn't last long, because Shanks' voice ringing in your ear made you remember why you were sitting on the stool near the bar counter and not by the table with your crew.

You were mad because Shanks was already completely drunk. And he had promised to stay sober for you!

"That bastard." You muttered under your breath.

"A coin for your thoughts." Beckman took the stool by your side, and just from the look on his face, you could see that he was getting a minute of peace from the drunk crew.

You swirled the beer mug on the counter, trying to hide your feelings from the vice-captain. "Thinking about the big bill we'll have to pay by the end of the night." You said, drinking from the mug. "Now you owe me a coin."

Beckman took a second examining your face, reading you like an open book. Damn, you hated the way he could see through you.

"Bennyyyy, stop." Begging and hiding your face from his prying eyes was the only thing you could do.

He laughed at your whining. "You should go easier on him, and mostly, on yourself. Just enjoy the night."

You were about to tell him that he had no right to say that to you. Heck, he was the one who was getting white hair from taking care of the captain, after all.

You were interrupted by a peculiar sentence.

"Come'on cap, eat this, huh?"

Benn was worried that you had broken your neck with the force you turned your head to the sound. Before he could say anything, you were already on your feet, marching in the crew's direction.

Drunk Shanks was even quicker than you when he ate the whole thing Yassop was offering to him. In. Only. One. Bite.

You were already pissed. But now, you were furious.

"Shanks, what the actual fuck?" You shouted, yanking the captain from his seat by his ear. "Yassop, really?"

The sniper raised his hands in defeat, but the damage was already done.

"It's just a fruit, I swear." Still with one of his hands raised, Yassop pointed to a basket full of fruits.

Shanks freed himself from the grip you had on his ear, looking at you with puppy eyes. That bastard, he knew that he was in trouble and was trying to get on your good side.

Benn's hand on your shoulder was probably the thing that made you calm down. As always, he was the one to mediate situations on the crew.

With a sigh, you decided to let things slide once more. Yassop looked guilty enough, and Shanks.... Well, he was the idiot you loved.

"If he got sick, you will deal with him." You said to anyone and everyone around the table. "If you like the show, you have to like the aftermath too."

You stomped off the bar, going back to the Red Force, precisely to the cabin you shared with Shanks.

However, you weren't far when drunken whines reached your ears.

"Don't leave me behind, I want to be with you."

Turning around, you saw him. Shanks was walking in your direction, stumbling a little on his own foot, but definitely better than what you expected.

"The party is not good without my handsome wife." He said, walking a little faster when he noticed your frozen figure.

You rolled your eyes at his cheesy words but did nothing when his arm laced your waist, pushing your body against his.

Red cheeks and the little pout on his lips made Shanks look cuter than what your mad mind could take, and you felt your heart soften.

"You're not my handsome husband right now. I'm mad at you." Despite your harsh words, you got closer to his body, bathing in his perfume.

"Sorry, I promise to make it up to you, darling."

"I know you will."

...

Shanks woke up the next day with a pounding head and a sore body. He had a hangover, no doubt.

Opening his eyes slowly, he tried to get used to the light entering through the window, but every time he blinked, the pounding in his head grew louder.

Ready to sleep again, he snuggled closer to your body, enjoying the warmth radiating from you. Shanks sprawled his fingers on your tummy, making you chuckle from the contact.

Noticing that you were awake now, Shanks tapped two fingers on your thigh, silently asking for you to turn around.

With a sleepy groan, you turned your body to face him, finally opening your eyes. The first thing on your vision was the scar on his face, which you traced with the tips of your fingers.

Next, you dragged your things to trace his lips. To your surprise, Shanks's lips were glossier than ever, and you wondered how he wasn't dehydrated from the drinking last night.

Finally, you reach for the stubble on his face, hoping to feel the sharpness on your hands. Only that you found nothing.

"Did you shave last night?"

Shanks laughed at your words, raising his hand to smooth the frown on your forehead. "Not even a good morning first?"

The feminine voice coming out from his mouth startled both of you, making you scream in horror and Shanks quickly sit up on the bed.

"What happened to my voice?" He said, touching his throat to check it.

You were frozen, your mouth opened in a perfect "O" while you stared at him.

Noticing how quiet you were, Shanks became even more worried.

"Oh my god, you have boobs now."

Shanks liked to sleep naked most times, proclaiming that he got too hot during the night, and now, this habit of his was giving you the privilege of seeing his perfect tits.

In pure horror, Shanks looked down at his own body. You were right, he had a nice pair of boobs, and looking under the covers, he had another thing where his dick was supposed to be.

"My dick is gone." He screamed, getting off the bed and running to check himself in the mirror. "I got a nice ass, though."

You slapped yourself mentally when you heard the obvious lust in his voice. His feminine voice.

"Really, Shank? This is where you got your mind?" You said, getting up from the bed and marching in his direction. "Stay here, I'm going to get Benn."

Shanks agreed happily. Honestly, he was more worried to look at himself in the mirror, noticing how hot he was now.

A couple of minutes later, you returned to the bedroom. Nothing could ever prepare you for the scene unfolding right in front of your eyes.

Shanks was dressed. In your clothes. Your husband, who was temporarily turned into a woman, was dressing in your clothes, without a care in the world for the situation he was in.

"Do you think I pulled this outfit?" He asked when he noticed you standing by the door.

Yes, you do. But this is not the point now.

"Aren't you worried that you'll be like this forever?" You questioned, really curious about his answers.

"Will you miss my dick that much?" Shanks said smirking.

This version of him was really hot, and something about the lazy smirk and the scar was giving girl Shanks a predatory look you weren't used to.

You recomposed yourself just in time to glare at him.

"I know my mates will find a way to solve this. And you probably already know how."

This bastard, how could he be so damn confident?

You hated when Shanks was right.

You were back on bed, adrenaline finally leaving your body. "The fruit Yassop gave you last night made this. You will be back in your own body in less than 24 hours."

Shanks lay by your side, still dressed in your clothes. "Can I show my boobies to the crew?"

"Absolutely not."

[simpjaes]

mdni. req by anon: pleaseeeeeee more innocent Jungwon with a dom Heeseung or Jake that gets jealous and ruins everything for him..like imagine Jungwon is finally going to lose his virginity to Y/N and Heeseung/Jake finds them in the act then decides to make him sit and watch how to do it correctly..

wc: 1.4k

tags: virginity loss, jungwon is jake's brother and jake is ur ex bf, reader is a whore we love her, voyeurism, exhibitionism

It’s not that he’s doing it wrong, it’s just that he doesn’t have the confidence to own the way he moves his body.

Jungwon, your favorite person in the world. Your ex boyfriend’s brother, who you simply couldn’t leave behind after the break up. Yeah, probably not an ideal situation you’re in right now but it’s still a situation that feels right.

Sure, hanging out at your ex boyfriend’s house was weird at first but all three of you just kind of got used to it after Jake realized there’s no getting rid of you for as long as he lives there with his brother. Exhausting? Yes. Annoying? So fucking annoying.

It’s not that Jake minds you being around. After all, he’s not the one who wanted to break up. You broke up with him. Imagine how he felt just four days after the break up, walking into his house and seeing you lounging on the couch as if he was still allowed to pounce on you. He couldn’t do that, of course. For one, because you’re not his girlfriend anymore, and secondly, because his bitch-ass little brother was always crowded up next to you on the couch. 

You guys weren’t that close he originally thought. At least throughout your relationship with him, Jungwon was never clinging to you like this. So, really, Jake doesn’t mind being able to still see you. What he minds is the fact that you’re here to see his little brother, and it’s a bit…

Well…

It doesn’t sit very well with him when it comes to the way you now interact. Like, really? You’re gonna break up with him over some shitty excuse of “we just aren’t on the same path in life” only to run and cling to his little brother? As if Jungwon knows what path he’s on either? Hell, the guy only just chose his major after a full semester at your college. 

Exhausting. That’s what the two of you are. And Jake tries his fucking hardest to not witness you when you’re over. 

That is, until it becomes far too difficult. Until that pit in his stomach bubbles up with envy so draining that he can’t help but barge into the room. 

“Like this?” Jake had heard his brother’s broken voice through the door that he should not have been listening through. 

Hearing Jungwon sound like that isn’t exactly new. After all, he always sounds embarrassing when a girl is around. Jake really would have just rolled his eyes and went back to his room if it weren’t for what he heard next.

“Does it feel good when I do this?” Jake heard this time, Jungwon’s voice coming out in more of a breathy moan. 

“Yeah, so good–” You responded with your own moan. 

“Ah–it’s so warm–”

And for a split second, Jake wondered if maybe you guys were doing massages or something. Trying to make sense of why the fuck you’re in there moaning alongside his brother. Surely you’re not fucking him. Jungwon is a virgin as far as Jake’s concerned and…if he’s really about to lose it to you, that’s beyond crossing a boundary. 

Both of you should know better. 

So, naturally, Jake doesn’t even knock. 

The door swings open with the force of a thousand suns as Jake stands there and connects the dots. Nope, no massages. Yep, that’s your legs spread around his brother. Oh, yeah. Okay. Wow. 

Jungwon is no longer a virgin it seems, considering his cock is clearly nestled inside of you. All the way. He saw the jerky movements of his hips just before the two of you snapped your heads to him. He saw the way you cling to Jungwon harder. 

And the three of you just stare at each other, you frozen with your piercing gaze on Jake, Jungwon’s cock plunged into you as deep as he can go, with little pants because he can still feel you clenching around him and he’s really, really trying not to moan right now. 

“Are you fucking joking?” Jake finally lets out, furrowing his brows and zeroing in on Jungwon. “You decided to lose it to her of all people?”

There’s silence for a long while as Jungwon tries not to moan out an answer, feeling both awkward and entirely aroused because you’re still so wet, you’re still holding onto him, you’re still clenching. 

“And you’re not even making her feel good?!” Jake continues as his gaze falls to you. 

It’s not that you look bored, or even that you were bored. It’s just, Jake knows how you are in bed. He knows you very well, and seeing you be more in control, guiding someone else is definitely not something he thought you were into. In fact, no matter how many times the two of you would fuck, you always acted like a fucking virgin. Like his cock hurt you every single time, like you couldn’t help but moan. You couldn’t help but babble incoherently. You couldn’t help but orgasm within the first five minutes.

It’s the fact that he never saw this side of you, and you’re giving it to his fucking brother while taking something away from him. 

“Jake–” You manage to get out, so turned on beyond belief that you barely recognize how awful you look in this situation. Then again, you’re no longer dating Jake. It’s not like you cling to Jungwon because you want him instead. 

Jungwon is just…really cute and needy. Jungwon just needs some love. Jungwon was just nervous about this girl he’s supposed to meet this weekend and wanted to get some experience in. 

Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for Jungwon, Jake could probably give less of a shit as to why you’re in here letting Jungwon fumble between your legs. If you’re gonna fuck anyone in this house, it’s gonna be him. You guys can fucking go outside otherwise. 

“Move.” Jake says, now making his way toward the bed and practically shoving Jungwon out of you. 

There’s a wet sound when he does that, Jungwon letting out both a pornographic and frustrated moan when he falls back. Jake spares no glance at him though, all he does is shove him further, all the way until he topples off of the bed. 

You don’t really care whose hands are on you though. While you wanted to be this person for Jungwon and while you feel bad that he barely got to even start, you really, really don’t mind the familiar grasp of Jake. With the way he puts his hands on your knees and spreads your legs wide. 

You blink up at him, seeing Jungwon peek at you from the edge of the bed as he keeps himself on the floor. Probably both intimated and embarrassed at what’s happening. 

“I can’t believe you.” Jake announces now, leaning his face in between your legs and inspecting how stretched Jungwon managed to get you. “I can’t believe you got this wet for him.”

You roll your eyes, clenching hard just so Jake can see that you’re still just as needy as you’ve always been. 

Jake sees it and squeezes his eyes shut with a frustrated sigh. Of course you’d do this. Of course you still want him, sexually, at least. And then he snaps around to look at Jungwon. 

“If you ever try to fuck her again, at least make it count.” 

Jungwon looks away and avoids eye contact. He knows Jake is pissed, not that he cares or anything. It’s not like he’s not allowed to be pissed off too. Jake really just walked into the room thirty seconds after he officially lost his virginity. Of course he’s not gonna be good at fucking yet.

And Just as Jake turns back to you, whipping his cock out and sliding his fingers down the length of it to stiffen up, Jungwon tries to get up and leave quietly. 

No, no, no. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jake asks through a seething breath, sliding into you with ease and a slight moan. “You’re going to sit right there and watch.”

Jungwon doesn’t know why he listens, but he does. He finds himself right back on the floor. His hands that were covering his cock slowly begin to palm when he keeps his eyes on you and the way you moan out for your ex boyfriend. 

He’s not happy right now, but you. You turn him on. He wishes so much that it isn’t Jake here doing this, that’s his brother, after all. Still, he watches.  And somehow, he learns.

[alchemistc]

She's not ...entirely sure this is a good idea.

Even as she raises her hand to knock she's second guessing herself.

The thing is - the thing is there aren't a lot of people in her life who don't take one look at her and make assumptions. She's petite, she's blonde, her face is eerily symmetrical.

When people see her, they think they know her.

Cap is great. The sort of man she wishes she'd known more of, growing up. The kind of man who stood in front of the entire crew and doled out cleaning duties and cooking duties to his men and didn't blink an eye handing her inventory, but pulled aside a guy six years into the job to inform him that if he made a snide comment about having to do Mona's job again he'd be looking for a new station. Respectfully.

The kind of man who let his crew cut loose and created a kind of family behind those bay doors, but didn't take their shit when they got out of hand

The kind of man who looked at her and just saw another firefighter.

Cap is great.

It's just...

Well, the guys don't go to Cap for advice, and she knows once upon a time that kind of hurt his feelings, but this feels like one of those things his husband is better equipped to handle.

("It's because he's older, right?" Cap had asked once, failing miserably at holding in a pout while the team around him demolished the roast he'd obviously spent hours prepping the night before.

Fred had still had half a loaf of bread in his mouth when he explained that talking to their boss about their sex lives just felt like an HR nightmare.

"So you go to my boyfriend instead?")

Mona's still considering turning heel and leaving the way she came when she hears whistling around the side of the house, and before she can make a break for it, Cap's husband is rounding the corner of the porch, winding his hands in a grease rag, and he's catching sight of her, raising a brow, slowing his steps.

He must see the panicked look in her eye.

"I can turn back around and pretend you were never here," he murmurs, the slightest hint of a smile on his face, and Mona feels every ounce of flight just seep from her bones.

Yeah. Okay. She gets why the guys all think he's the one to go to when they've royally fucked something up.

There's an ease to him, a gentleness that she knows for a fact was hard fought.

"No, I..."

The brow ticks up a little more.

"I just found a new sour Evan won't touch with a ten foot pole, if you're gonna be here a minute," Tommy says, and any resistance left vanishes. Mona's been to enough of Cap's barbecues to know his husband always has the best beer in the county.

"Yeah, okay."

Tommy crosses the length of the porch and glances glumly at his greasy hands. "You mind grabbing the door? Evan throws a fit every time I leave fingerprints behind."

She's interrupting his day, she realizes. He's a weird sort of semi-retired - flies for the county sometimes during wildfire season, flips classic cars from their huge ass garage around the side of the house, spends a month teaching courses to new pilots every year out of state and it's always the crankiest they ever get to see Cap. People charter his chopper, sometimes, although lately it seems like he only keeps the thing around so he can take Cap up to watch spectacular sunsets because they're the most sickeningly perfect couple she's ever met.

Mona grabs the door. Shuffles in ahead of him when he shows no signs of moving, and makes her way down the hall to the kitchen because she's been here enough times by now not to feel as weird about how welcoming they both were right away.

He uses his rag to pull open the sink cabinet and grab the heavy duty soap from underneath to wash his hands.

The scent rolls over her in waves, throwing her back about fifteen years to her parents tiny little apartment over the shop, her father's rough and callused hands soaking under shitty water pressure, the grease under his fingernails he could never quite scrape clean.

Tommy tips a chin at the fridge. "Grab me one, too? Bottle openers on the side."

There's an ease to the way he says it, like this is a normal occurrence, like Mona's ever stepped foot across the threshold for anything that wasn't a station-wide get together. She supposes for him it probably is. At least a few of the guys act like he's their dad, wandering into the house without even bothering to knock, gathering around him when he shows up at the station like lost little puppies.

He's used to it.

He hums his thank you when she sets one of the bottles on the island beside him, and Mona glances around to distract herself while he's drying his hands.

A couple dozen pictures of Cap and Tommy, in various stages of their lives.

The fridge is plastered with pictures. A couple she recognizes as Cap's sister and brother-in-law, two adorable kids at their knees. A guy standing next to a kid wearing a cap and gown and leaning on two crutches. An older man she's lovingly heard Cap refer to as basically his dad - the reason they eat better at work than anyone has the right to. A couple she'd seen at the wedding, standing with a kid she remembers Cap staring at like he was seeing a ghost. There's so many people that she doesn't know, but - there's the station pictures too. Candids of the boys when they were living in the Captain's house, back when Cap first got here, when she'd still been a year and a half from graduating high school and didn't have a fucking clue what she wanted to do with her life. The Christmas that Fred had cursed them with the q-word and Tommy had spent the day in the station kitchen putting together a meal they'd all stuck around to eat after shift despite the exhaustion seeping into their bones, all of A shift crammed together around a tiny wobbly table to squeeze into the picture.

She gets stuck on the picture of the two of them in hard hats, building what she's pretty sure is the wrap around porch she's snuck a few cigarettes on when the house gets a little overwhelming. There's something about the way they're looking at each other that makes her want to cry, a little.

Fuck.

Damnit.

Tommy leans over to tap the picture with a grin. "We had a blowout fight the night before our buddy took this picture," he says, the deep grooves of his smile stretched wide across his face. "I'd left my job and sold my house six months earlier to chase him across the country and he was convinced if he didn't find a way to turn every half-thought-out desire of mine into a reality that I was gonna vanish in the night. He bought the lumber without telling me and I came home to him and his best friend ripping out the stairs to the front door."

Mona's instantly drawn in.

He makes them sound like a train wreck.

If she's got the math right, that was her senior year. She remembers seeing them around town and thinking they were annoyingly sweet. She remembers her mom baking Tommy a casserole for the excuse of getting all the gossip about the Captain's mysterious paramour so she had the upper hand at her book club that weekend.

Tommy taps another. The two of them under a pergola, the expressions on their faces so disgustingly smitten Mona remembers wanting to blow a raspberry in the middle of the ceremony. She'd been so convinced she'd never let herself be so fucking dependent on another person for her happiness.

"He kept it a secret that he'd invited my father to the wedding until the night before. I spent most of my night with a punching bag instead of Evan." He points out another photo from the wedding. "The photographer tried to murder me when she saw my knuckles. Evan could barely fit the ring over my finger."

"Who snitched?" Mona asks, narrowing her eyes, and Tommy grins, huffs a laugh. He gestures vaguely at her face.

"You've got the look," he tells her, which doesn't really explain a whole lot. "And none of Evan's crew ever makes their first visit anything but love life issues."

"It could be something else," Mona argues, gesturing with her beer, and one of his brows ticks up. "It's not, but it could be."

"You want something to eat? Evan's been experimenting with cakes again, and the red velvet white chocolate escaped the discards."

"Is my so called look that bad?"

He grins. "Mostly I'm looking for an excuse for cake before noon."

Christ, he's good at this. It's actually a little eerie, how quickly he's set her at ease. It's been over a year and the guys still call her prickly when they think she can't hear them, but she never calls them out on it because they're not wrong. It takes her forever to warm up to people.

"Is that how this usually works? You butter us up with Cap's food and get us to spill our guts?"

He's already digging plates from a cabinet next to the stove. She can't see his expression, but she can picture the grin on his face. "Usually they raid my fridge and put their feet up on my coffee table before I've fully registered that they're here. It's sort of a novelty to get to act like a host in my own home."

That checks out, if she's being honest. They're all a bunch of rabid animals who've been emboldened by Cap's open door policy and his infectious smile and his incredibly hot and talented husband. She's never quite sure if the guys want to be him or screw him - not that Tommy's ever looked twice at anyone who wasn't Cap.

"I think I'm broken," Mona admits, the words coming out in a rush, her eyes on the dutch oven tucked under one of the wide kitchen windows.

Tommy slides a slice of fucking delicious looking cake her way and takes a swig of his beer. Waits.

Mona reaches for the fork and spills her guts.

---

"Oh, hey Mo," Cap says, stumbling his way over the threshold, eyes lighting on his husband and his expression going gooey.

Tommy broke into the rack of Banquet's an hour ago and Mona's pretty sure she's one with the couch. It's a good couch. When she'd told Tommy so twenty minutes ago there'd been a gleam in his eye she didn't understand.

She's still a little too buzzed to worry about the fact that she's oozing into the cushions and emotionally wrecked. She hasn't cried in front of another human being in at least six years. Tommy's probably a wizard, or something.

"Everything good?" Cap asks, and she knows that they've got a sort of agreement - unless Tommy thinks something is gonna affect the work, whatever Tommy talks about with them doesn't reach Cap's ears.

"Men," Mona huffs, and Cap pauses, shoots another look into the living room.

"Yeah. Men."

"No Cap. Men," she repeats, and he nods, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

"Oh. Men," he enunciates, and Mona feels the scowl on her face grow wider when the two of them share a sappy look. It's super fucking inconvenient to be surrounded by the proof of true fucking love when she's trying to convince herself she's already too jaded to find it. "If you wanna stay for dinner I can tell you the story of the time Tommy tried to leave me because he thought he could make my decisions for me."

Even Tommy's scowl is sappy as hell. It's gross. Shes having a hard time convincing herself it's not the best thing she's ever seen.

She tips her neck against the back of the couch to glance up at him. "Who snitched?"

Cap's laugh filters through the room, and right across from her, where the whole world and Mona can see, Tommy's expression goes warm and vulnerable, like the sound has soothed a few decades of wounds. "Word of advice? Never leave Harry with a secret and a crowded room."

[lazylittledragon]

please keep doing the right thing by not calling out this or any other imitators of your art. if they're not impersonating you, deceiving people about whose artworks were made/posted first, or threatening your livelihood (which is a wholly seperate issue of economics), there's no material damage being done here. that just leaves the shitty feelings you get from being aware of the imitation, and i have faith that you can get over those and move on with your life.

fact: your art is technically skillful and broadly appealing to tumblrites both in style and subject (big fandoms, popular ships, familiar tropes and ideas). that's why it's popular.

fact: social media incentivizes creators to post whatever content gets the most engagement and viewers to engage with the same kinds of content over and over, regardless of who copied who.

fact: the only thing no one else can copy is the fact that your art was made by *you*. if that's not enough for you to feel secure in the inherent value of what you make, i'm afraid there's an part of you that fears that your work is replaceable.

the discomfort and "creepiness" you talk about sounds like you're stuck in zero-sum mindset: this person can only gain something by taking it away from *you*. and that's just not true. what do you feel you're "losing" to them in this competition? praise? attention? social media points? money (see above)? unpack that.

fact: your art will be harder to imitate and less attractive to imitators if you get weirder and more experimental with it. which i would love to see, btw.

i appreciate this !! but also i should clarify: i'm not upset because i'm jealous of this person getting attention or i feel like i'm 'losing' to them in any way. i'm very secure in my own work now and if this was a stranger i probably wouldn't care as much. this is not any kind of 'threat' to me and the amount that this affects my actual life is very minimal

i'm upset because this is someone who i gave the benefit of the doubt and actually befriended, who went from taking small stylistic choices i made to potentially ripping off entire characters/comics that i wrote, and did it to my face. and i don't think it's an overreaction for me to be weirded out by that

[silencesscreams]

i can see you

james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)

summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.

a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift

warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation

for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.

you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.

“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.

“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.

“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.

as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.

“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.

“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”

“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.

“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.

“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”

it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?

“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.

“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.

“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.

james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.

-

your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.

the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.

you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.

you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.

and then there was james.

james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.

when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.

sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?

as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.

-

you felt like you could kill him.

after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.

but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.

you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.

"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.

"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.

“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“

“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.

“i told you, they were really good.”

if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turned red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.

you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.

he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.

he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.

he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pajamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.

he shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.

the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.

maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.

“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.

“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.

“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.

“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.

“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”

“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.

“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”

“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”

“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”

“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.

you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.

-

as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.

you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.

on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.

when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.

you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-

giggles.

there were giggles coming from your room.

and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.

you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.

“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”

“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.

you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.

“thank you, have a nice night”

you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.

you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.

“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“

“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.

“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.

“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”

“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?

“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?

“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?

“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“

“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.

you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.

“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.

it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.

“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.

“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.

you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.

his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.

you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?

once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.

maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.

he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.

you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.

you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.

“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.

“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something on your phone.

you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.

you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.

“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“

“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.

“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.

fuck.

you were going to share the damn blanket.

he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.

was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.

you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.

you could have died right there.

he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.

‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.

you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.

you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.

the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.

you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how he could be so sweet, funny and nice.

after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.

he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.

you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.

you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.

everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want to read it at the moment.

“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.

“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.

“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.

“yeah” remus answered, smiling.

“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sitting next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.

“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”

they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.

once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.

they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.

“can i stay with you for the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.

“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the arm of ouch.

“yeah?” the guy answered.

“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.

“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?

“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.

“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.

“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.

“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.

“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.

“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.

“really? what does he say?”

“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.

“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”

“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.

“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.

“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.

for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.

he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.

did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?

goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.

it made you feel crazy, it really did.

you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.

the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.

you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-

you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.

‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’

you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.

you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.

“y/n?” he was looking at you now.

fuck.

“yeah?”

“you look really good tonight.”

“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.

“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?

“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.

“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.

he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.

the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.

you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.

kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.

he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.

“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.

he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.

he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.

when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.

“james…” you let out as he bit you again.

“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.

“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.

“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.

“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.

he was big.

you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).

he was on his knees, towering over you.

“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.

“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, especially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.

he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.

he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.

“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.

“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.

“take it off”

“what?” you’re confused.

“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.

“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?

“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.

you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.

“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.

“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.

“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.

“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.

“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.

“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.

“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.

“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.

“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”

“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.

“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.

“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.

“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.

“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.

“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.

he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.

“jaaames” you would whine

“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.

if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.

“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.

“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.

you were in ecstasy.

“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.

“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.

“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.

“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.

“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.

your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.

as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.

“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.

his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.

he made sure he got rid of every single drop.

your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.

“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.

“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.

“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.

“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.

“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.

[immortalmrwavell]

Getting The Job

(Original story posted November 7th 2021. Original story title “Better Life, Cop Life”) This story has been mildly Updated!

Recently Eric’s life had been going down the drain. First he split up with his boyfriend Jake after discovering he was cheating. Then he lost his job due to staff cuts. And to top it off he then lost his old apartment since it was all in Jake’s name. Now his ex was living in their old place with the guy he cheated with while Eric was struggling to find a new job while living in the cheapest apartment he could find. As he applied for shitty job after job he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to deserve all this? Was it all some kind of cruel universal joke?

As he was job hunting, one of the positions that popped up was a job at a small clothing shop called “Threads for Life”. The description of the job itself was extremely vague but he assumed it would just be retail. Working a till and serving customers etc. So he applied.

Surprisingly they were the first to get back to him about his application and in such a short time frame as well. They emailed asking for him to come in for an interview. Of course Eric accepted. Why wouldn’t he? The only weird thing was how close this shop seemed to be. It was just down the road from his old apartment and still rather close to his current one but he could swear he’d never seen or heard of the shop before. He just chalked it up to him being unobservant and forgetful.

On the day of the interview Eric found the shop just where it was said to be. Even after seeing it though, nothing clicked. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t here before. He shook the odd feeling off however as he stepped up to the front door perfectly on time and looking his best.

Upon entering he was greeted by a middle aged man who introduced himself as the owner of the establishment, Tony. The two exchange greetings before Tony ushered Eric to follow him. Eric expected to be taken immediately to an office but instead Tony simply walked through the many isles of clothing with him while chatting casually about the shop and its history.

Before Eric had assumed this to be a simple clothes shop. One that sold shirts, pants and all the rest like most other shops. And it did. But something Eric was quick to notice was how most of the clothes seemed to be matched together in outfits. Rather than being separated into different sections, almost all the clothes in the shop had already been prematched. There were plenty of casual combos like t-shirts and jeans or shorts and tank tops however as they moved from aisle to aisle there were a very noticeable amount of clothes that seemed more like costumes.

Some were more understandable like suits. But a lot of the others?… Eric took note of medical scrubs, fireman uniforms, motorcycle gear, handyman clothes, police uniforms, cowboy costumes, construction clothes and so much more. Eric also couldn’t help noting that none of the clothes seemed to be marketed towards women. He supposed the shop specialised in men’s attire specifically. Still he couldn’t help but find the layout of the store to be… strange.

“Soooo… Eric was it? Before I can give you a job. I want to ask you a couple questions.” The owner said as he sat down on a cushioned stool near the back of the shop, prompting Eric to do the same.

Eric of course agreed to this as questions were standard procedure for almost any interview so he was ready for it..

“Okay first question then. Growing up, did you ever have any dreams of who you’d eventually become? What job you’d want to strive for? What kind of man you’d want to become?” Tony asked.

It was a strange question for sure but Eric still pondered it for a moment before answering. “Well I don’t think I was ever dead set on anything but I remember wanting to be something along the lines of a fireman… or a police officer maybe?”

Tony nodded, seeming pleased with that answer. “Okay then second question. Are you content with the current direction your life has taken or would you still like to fulfill that childhood dream if you could?”

Eric chuckled at the bizarre question. “Well… my life hasn’t exactly been going in a good direction recently. If I could change some things I would. But if you’re asking me whether I’d wanna become a cop then… I just don’t think I have what it takes.” He gestured down at his body. “I’m thin and lanky. Don’t really go to the gym that much and I’m not all that good with confrontation. To be honest I just don’t think I have the right mindset to be a cop you know?” Eric huffed before looking back up at the owner. “And no offense but what does that have to do with me working here?”

Tony didn’t answer at first. He just smiled before standing back up again. The owners eyes glanced around the store, mainly at all the costumes and then turned back to Eric.

“Alright. I think I can give you a job.”

Eric was surprised when he heard that. All he’d done was answer two silly questions. He tried to query as to how those questions even mattered but Tony simply asked Eric to follow him. Confused as ever, Eric did just that.

The pair made their way back down the isles of outfits. They passed by the suits, doctors scrubs and all the other costumes yet again. Only the weird thing was now that Eric was getting a closer look at them, he started to notice how real the costumes looked. They weren’t just silly fake costumes you’d wear to a party. They were the real deal! Actually looking as though they belonged to real firemen and real doctors. Even the tradie outfits looked dirty as if they’d been used for actual tradie work.

Tony stopped in front of the police uniforms. Eric was quick to notice just how real those looked as well. Not just uniform but genuine looking police badges as well. Not to mention the radio, utility belt and even a body cam that all looked completely real. As if they’d been taken directly from actual cops and put on display.

“Pick one.” Was all Tony said.

“What? Seriously?” Eric was baffled. This had to be some kind of joke right?

“Oh come on. Humour me a little. Pick one out.” Tony urged, patting Eric on the back. “Though if I were you I’d certainly pick that one.” The shop owner pointed out a specific uniform amongst the selection. Eric didn’t really see why it’d matter which one he chose as they mostly looked the same anyway.

Eric sighed. “Fine, I’ll pick that one then. Now what? Want me to go try it on.” He joked only to be met by an affirming nod from Tony.

“Changing rooms are just over there.”

Eric raised an eyebrow at the man but decided what the hell. He took the uniform off the rack along with the equipment. Tony then picked up the large black boots and placed them on top of the uniform in Eric’s hands. Eric shook his head as he turned and walked off towards the changing rooms.

He shut the blue curtain behind as he stepped into one of the stalls. It was a fair bit bigger than he’d expected it to be. Eric sat the uniform down on the bench before striping himself down to his boxer briefs. After setting his own clothes to one side, he began to get dressed in the police uniform.

First thing he did was pull on the pants which he found to be rather baggy. He sat down to prevent them from falling as he grabbed the shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it up. He made sure to tuck it into his pants before grabbing the utility belt and strapping firmly around his waist. He still couldn’t believe it had a real taser attached to it and everything. Lastly Eric slid his feet into the heavy black boots which were clearly a couple sizes too large.

With that Eric stood up to take a look in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. The uniform was far too big and baggy on him. He looked like he was playing dress up more than anything. He slid his hands into his pockets as looked at himself a little more, amused by the uniform. Though as his hands dug around in the pockets, he realised something was in one of them. It was small and metallic. Eric pulled it out to reveal a name tag with “J. Desmond” engraved on it. Jokingly Eric decided to pin it to his shirt for a laugh.

Eric shook his head again at how silly this all was. Why had Tony made him put this one anyway? With a shrug he was just about to start taking the uniform off, not wanting to look stupid when he stepped out of the changing room. But before he could even start unbuttoning the shirt, he began to feel…weird. Like a warm wave of pure pleasure began flowing over him. A wave so incredible that he almost didn’t notice his body starting to change.

His upper body was first to see a transformation. His back widening significantly as his flat chest began to bubble and swell into two thick hefty pecs. Pecs that grew larger until they started to strain his shirt slightly. The same shirt that’d been hanging loosely off his frame moments ago now starting to fill out at an alarming rate. Especially as his shoulders bulged to the size of cannon balls while his traps grew to match. His waist grew larger but tighter at the same time as fat melted away in place of pure raw muscle. Showing itself even more so in the form of abs. They weren’t chiseled washboard abs, they were thicker and softer than that but still impressive all the same.

But his arms. They were what really caught Eric’s attention. Partly thanks to the cop shirt he was wearing being a short sleeve which gave him a full view of their transformation. He got to watch as veins pulsed across his skinny twig-like arms as though they were being pumped full of unseen energy. And then with pain or warning they started to swell. His previously non existent biceps began hulking into reality as the muscle beneath his skin inflated. It should’ve been impossible. Seemingly gaining mass from nothing. But his eyes witnessed it all. His forearms expanded rapidly while his hands cracked and thickened. His biceps continued to balloon with power and size until they stretched his sleeves. Only then did they finally stop. His veins subsided as his arms reached their new colossal size.

His upper body might’ve been massive now but his lower body was getting ready to catch up. Eric’s waist and hips had already widened enough for the waist of the cop pants to fit securely. Now it was his legs turn to catch up.

In seconds they put on an unbelievable amount of sheer muscle mass. It was as though someone had plugged an air pump into his legs and started filling them up. But it wasn’t air. It was pure real muscle. Eric couldn’t help but groan a little as his pants began to feel tighter. He leaned against the wall of the cubicle for support as his thighs and calves continued to bloat thicker and more powerful by the second. The once baggy cop pants now fit him like a glove. But it wasn’t just his legs. His backside started to swell as well. His once average butt growing into a juicy muscular bubble ass that strained against the back of his pants perfectly. Not to mention his feet cracking and lengthening similar to hands. Growing multiple sizes until they fit perfectly inside the black cop boots he had on.

When the next change kicked in, Eric’s eyes widened as one of his hands instinctively flew towards his crotch. Grabbing his bulge tightly as even that began to swell and grow. His eyes began to roll back as his cock snaked down one his legs, growing girthier in the process. Meanwhile his balls followed suit as they bloated into fat heavy nuts full to the brim with cum.

His body was complete but his head still had to change. A stinging sensation came over his face as it started to morph. The shape of his head and all of his features altering dramatically until he was unrecognisable from the man he once was. His new look being much sharper and masculine in a way that would’ve screamed high school jock had he been a little younger. All the while the light stubble he’d always carried grew into more of a short well kept beard while the messy mid length hair he adorned shortened into faded crew cut.

“Fuuuuuck…” Eric groaned as the transformation subsided at last. There was a clear difference in his voice. It must’ve been altered with the rest of his body. He found himself looking back into the mirror with amazement. No longer was he that scrawny pale figure of a man he’d seen reflected all his life. Now he was… buff. Really buff! And hot as fuck!. It was unreal. The uniform that was more or less falling off him moments ago now clung to him as though he were made for it. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up and down his torso, feeling a set of strong abs hiding under his shirt before drifting back up to squeeze his power new pecs through the fabric. He never thought he’d actually have fucking pecs but here he was now! Groping and kneading them.

In all the excitement his cock began to firm up. Eric could feel the blood rushing to his crotch as his growing erection created a clear outline in his pants. He smirked as he brought both hands down towards his crotch. Gently he rubbed his hands across the length of his dick through his pants.

Eric looked back into the mirror before bringing both arms up into flex. His already hard cock twitched at the sight of his biceps bulging, threatening to rip his sleeves in the process. The strength he felt flowing through his arms… No, his whole body was intoxicating! With his left hand Eric proceeded to grasp and squeeze his right bicep. It seemed impossible, like he was living in a lucid dream!

Just then Eric thought of something he’d always wished he could do. He’d never been buff enough to do it before. But now? He lowered his arms to his sides, stood up straight before flexing his chest. His pecs bounced. Eric’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight of his new muscle tits jumping underneath the shirt. He bounced them a few more times before cupping them again with a sense of pure wonder flowing through him. “These feel fucking amazing…”

Once he’d finished admiring his pecs, Eric remembered something else that’d grown. He turned his back to the mirror and looked behind. His cock twitched extra hard this time as he caught sight of his muscular new cop butt straining against his uniform pants. He couldn’t help himself. Before long his greedy hands were reaching back and grasping at his thick bubbly ass. “Oooohh fuuck.” He growled, feeling just how hefty they were. “My ass is fucking huge!…” Eric murmured aloud, lost in the pleasure. So lost in fact that he didn’t even notice Tony peering through the curtains. Watching with a horny gaze as Eric squeezed and groped his fat new ass. Even watching as Eric went as far as to place his hands just under his ass cheeks and start jiggling them, dumbly laughing as he did.

Eric felt his cock pulsing and bucking uncontrollably as he played with his cop butt. So much so that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Soon enough he spun back around to face the mirror again before unzipping his pants. Tony continued to creep in on the show while Eric shoved a hand into his underwear, struggling to free his erection. With a little effort however Eric was able to let out a satisfied sigh as his girthy python sprung free. The thing must’ve been around 9 inches long and insanely thick. It was every man’s dream cock.

A slapping noise could be heard from the changing rooms as Eric began smacking his cock against his hand while he admired it. Every smack sent a pleasurable shiver through his body. He had to stroke it. He was just able to wrap his hand around its full girth before he started to pump. It had to have been at least three times more sensitive than his old cock as Eric couldn’t stop cursing while he pumped it.

He began to jerk faster as he looked over his new body in the mirror again. His handsome bearded face and buff body. How thick his legs were. How buff his arms had become. How massive his chest had grown. Just looking at it all reflected back at him allowed him to jerk off furiously. He then looked down at his cock. He loved seeing it. Soooo thick and excited as some precum started to drip from the tip. With how sensitive it was and intensely he was pumping it, Eric could tell he was gonna to blow any moment.

He turned to his left, getting a perfect side view of his body. He couldn’t help but fixate on how much his ass stood out. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching his free hand back towards it again. Before long he was groping his ass and jerking his cock all at the same time. The new cop was having the time of his goddamn life!

“Fuuuuuuuccck!” That was enough to send him over the edge. Tony, who was still watching, saw Eric's ass clench and his cock erupt with an enormous load. One so big that it shit cum all over the benches adjacent to the new cop as well as his old and now ill fitting clothes. His cock continued to buck and twitch for a good few moments afterwards. Shooting a few more times as it covered the floor in front of him with cum.

“See. I knew you’d like that one.” Tony finally made himself known as he pulled back the curtain.

Eric whipped around, still panting a little. “Fuck I… my deepest apologies sir… I couldn’t stop myself.” He tried to reason.

“No need to apologise Officer.” Tony smirked as he glanced down at Eric’ softening cock, still dripping cum. “Most find it hard to contain themselves after what you just went through. So no need to worry. I’ll even get it cleaned up for ya.” The store manager smiled innocently.

“Officer?…” Eric repeated what the other man had said to him as though it weren’t the truth. It sounded weird and off putting to hear someone call him that. So why did it sound so right at the same time?

“Well you are a Cop now. Officer James Desmond to be precise, so you better get used to hearing it.” Tony nodded towards the name tag that was pinned to Eric’s shirt.

Hearing that name triggered something inside Eric. Memories of being Cop flooded his mind along with a bunch of other unfamiliar memories. He still remembered who he used to be but now he had a whole new life filling his head that made his old one feel like a fleeting dream. A new life as Officer James Desmond.

“Thank you sir. You have no idea how grateful I am for all this…” James stated, his new manners kicking in right away. Immediately after he tucked his fat new cock back into his pants before pulling up the zip. “But I’ve got to be back at the station in half an hour.”

“No worries Officer! I completely understand. You head off and I’ll be sure to get all your ball batter cleaned. Might take me a while though.” Tony joked, earning a chuckle from James.

“Heh sorry sir. Got myself a pair of bull balls down here.” James gave his crotch a quick squeeze. “Well I’m off. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask for me down at the staton.” He said, passing by Tony as he exited the changing cubicle.

“Oh don’t worry I will.” Tony replied, giving James’ ass a smack as he passed. He continued to watch James’ ass shake as he sauntered away up until the sexy new cop reached the front door.

James hopped into his car, not even noticing it’d been morphed into a cop car, before starting up the engine. As he drove towards the station he couldn’t help but daydream about plunging his cock into some other hot cop’s ass or having another cop fuck his new bubble butt. Surely some of his buddies down at the station would be down for some fun. According to his memories he seemed to recall catching his own partner checking out his ass a couple times…

Back at the shop. “Another life bettered and another hot stud on the streets. A pretty good day I’d say” Tony sighed to himself with a smile before turning back towards the changing room. Looking over at the huge mess of Cop nut he now had to clean. “Well… best get to work.”

[ilikerafayelwaytoomuch]

Help me learn?

Best friend! Rafayel x inexperienced! Reader

After getting stood up on another date, you find comfort in your best friend Rafayel. But what happens when he offers to give your first kiss?

Warnings/tags: little angst, both reader and Rafayel being a lil dumb, some fluff, smut, p in v, first time reader, blowjob, fingering, use of vibrator, I think that's all?? Not proofread so sorry if there's any mistakes, I'll proof later. Around 7k words 😵‍💫

A/n: haven't written smut in a long time and I may have gone a lil overboard...but I just love this trope and Raffie 😭

Walking through the door of Rafayel's apartment, I sighed, throwing my bag to the ground. “Another dud?” He asked, turning to look at me from the couch. I sighed again.

“Yep. This one didn't even bother to show up,” I informed him. He sighed as well. 

“You need better taste in men,” he stated, turning his focus back to the TV. I frowned. 

“It's not that bad,” I argued. “I just don't understand how people are able to use dating apps so easily and not get stood up every other date. Am I that unattractive?” I asked, feeling insecure. This was the third date in 2 weeks that had stood me up. The ones that did show up were awful, either their manners inexistent or huge red flags. I hadn't dated at all before this, making my insecurities even more rampant. Was I really hopeless? 25 years without so much of a kiss from someone. I was tired of being alone. Inexperienced. But I refused to just have sex with a random guy I didn't like just to say I've had sex. That was proving harder than I thought though. 

“Come sit,” Rafayel patted the seat next to him and I walked over and sat down, resting my head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around my back. “You're not unattractive, quite the opposite really. These guys are just stupid.” 

“You have to say that. You're my best friend,” I argued. 

“I really don't have to say it. I say it because I mean it. Besides I literally tell you when your outfit is atrocious, why would I lie to you?” he teased. 

“Because saying a piece of clothing looks bad on me is very different than telling me I'm ugly. I just don't understand Raf. I try to be nice and do everything right. I'm fucking 25 and never been kissed for gods sake. I can't even get someone to kiss me, so therefore I must be pretty fucking repulsive,” I sniffed. I felt tears approaching and cursed myself for crying over something so dumb. These men didn't even deserve to be kissed, yet they showed no signs of being attracted to me at all. No one ever did. “Is that the problem? No one wants to kiss me because I've never kissed someone? Wouldn't someone like that in some sick weird perverted way? Yet still nothing,” I lamented, tears falling now. “I just feel so fucking stupid. I feel like I should just give up and be alone forever. Live and die a virgin.” Rafayel rested his head on mine with a sigh. 

“I know you won't believe me, but I promise you, you're gorgeous. These guys are really missing out on an incredible woman. You're so kind, caring, fun and so very pretty. It's easy for me to tell you to not place your worth in worthless guys, because it feels worse to be where you are. But try not to? I know one day you'll find someone worth it,” he comforted me. I nodded. His words helped some, but I still felt incredibly insecure. He wiped my tears with his sleeve and moved slightly to grab the remote, wordlessly putting on my favorite show. I stayed next to him for a few episodes, letting his presence comfort me. I wished that I could meet someone like him who cared about me. But all I got was shitty guys. And still no experience. I felt like I was missing out on a big part of life. And that sucked. “Can I stay the night?” I asked him between episodes.

“Of course you can. I'd be happy to binge watch this with you all night and the tub of ice cream sitting in my freezer,” he smiled. I nodded. 

“I'm gonna go wash up then,” I decided. 

“Sure. You know where everything is already.” I got up and headed to his bathroom connected to his room. I stopped by his closet to see if I had some clothes left here. I somehow didn't, even though I could have sworn I left some sweatpants here last time I crashed at his place. I had been stood up again, but had decided to drink away my sorrows. Rafayel had picked me up and brought me here to sleep. 

Instead, I found one of his shirts to sleep in and a pair of his sweats. They'd be big on me, but that was fine. I got into his shower, taking my time to wash up, using all of his fancy expensive products. Rafayel was very particular about his hair and skin care, always buying expensive products. I couldn't say the same for myself, so taking a shower at his place was like a little treat. Once out of the shower I followed up with more of his products, because how could I not. Once I was clean and cosy, I headed back out to his living room, joining him on the couch. For a moment I thought I caught him staring at me, eyes roaming my body and checking me out. I brushed it off, knowing it wasn't possible. He handed me a spoon and opened up the tub of ice cream, setting it between us and beginning to play the next episode of the show. 

It was comfortable. Sitting next to him, eating ice cream, wearing his clothes and watching a comfort show. The pains of being stood up had eased some, my mind being distracted. It was always comfortable with Rafayel. He never judged me for my weirdness or crying over stupid things. In fact, he was just about the only person I ever confided in. He didn't tell me I was weird for not having experience, telling me that it wasn't weird at all and shouldn't make a difference. He was the reason I felt confident enough to try dating. But even with all of this, his next words shocked me. “I could help if you want, you know,” he randomly informed me. 

“Help with what?” I asked, unsure what he was talking about. 

“Kissing,” he stated as if it was the easiest thing in the world. I almost dropped my spoon, surprised. I didn't know what to think or feel. “I just mean,” he paused, growing insecure himself. “If it'll help you feel better to have kissed someone you know before trying to kiss someone you don't, I can. That way you can say you at least have experience in that,” he glanced at me nervously. “But totally cool if you don't want to, I just thought I'd offer. Actually, now that I'm saying it out loud I don't know why I said that. You wouldn't want to kiss me-” 

“Okay,” I interrupted him, surprising myself as well as him. 

“What?” He stared at me, surprised. 

“I mean yeah, it would help. I know you and I feel safe with you so it wouldn't be as scary to kiss I don't think. It could probably help me feel more confident about things. But I don't want to make things weird or anything,” I explained, thinking out loud. It did make sense. I wanted to experience being kissed by someone I knew, not someone random. It was just a kiss. It didn't have to mean anything. He'd show me how and that would be that. Easy solution. After having kissed someone, I think I'd be less scared of initiating that or more with someone else. “Are you sure?” He breathed. 

“Yeah,” I said after a beat of silence, nodding. “You can show me how it's done. You always brag about how every girl says you're the best kisser. So why not learn from the best? It doesn't have to mean anything…” 

“Yeah, uh, okay,” he blinked, realizing that I had agreed to what he thought was a wild suggestion. “So, should we just–” he paused and looked at me. 

“Well I don't know what to do, that's why you're here,” I laughed. 

“Right,” he chuckled. “Here,” he took my spoon from me and set it down along with his spoon and the tub of ice cream on the coffee table. He stared at me expectantly and I tilted my head at him, signaling he was fully in the lead here and I had no idea how to begin. He twisted his body towards me before slowly leaning in. My breath caught in my throat at the distance. I could feel his breath on me, his nose almost touching mine. His head tilted slightly, hesitantly moving closer, before he suddenly stopped and frowned, groaning. “Ugh, at least close your eyes you weirdo,” he whined and I laughed, closing my eyes. I felt him move closer again, anticipation bubbling up in me. His lips gently pressed against mine, capturing them in an unfamiliar sensation. His lips were soft, softer than I would have guessed. He moved them against me, encouraging me to move. I did, hesitantly separating my lips slightly. His slotted between, deepening the kiss. I felt my face heating up, my whole body really. Rafayel's hand gently caught my face, pulling me into him more as our lips danced. My hands shook as I hesitantly reached for him, landing on his thighs. When he felt it, his other hand guided mine to his shoulders, wrapping around him. I scooted closer, wanting more. I gasped as I felt his tongue, teasing and exploring. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. And I wanted more. I felt hot all over, but like I needed to be closer to him. I no longer worried about how I was at kissing, only focusing on how I was feeling. Was kissing always this nice? If it was then I definitely was missing out. I felt like I was suffocating, but made no effort to stop. Rafayel was the one to pull back first, pressing his lips to mine one last time in a quick kiss before resting his forehead on mine. I felt his breath, panting onto mine. I was afraid to open my eyes. Afraid of what I'd see. Insecurity ripped at me once more. Was it awful? Is he repulsed? I peeked open my eyes to see him staring at me with an unfamiliar expression. It was like he was staring into my soul, searching for something or engraving a memory there. He blinked suddenly, backing away. “So yeah, that's uh, how you do that,” he stuttered. He backed away fully and gulped, avoiding my eyes. That scared me more than I thought it would. I took it as a sign that he hated every second, that he'd regretted his decision to offer. I nodded and bit my lip, looking away and praying I wouldn't cry. It felt even stupider to cry over. I sniffled and Rafayel's head shot up to look at me. “Are you crying?” He asked, voice trembling in fear. 

“No,” I lied, sniffing again. 

“What's wrong? Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. I shook my head, too embarrassed to even explain what I felt. “Talk to me, please? What's going on in there?” He pleaded, worried he had done something wrong. He never wanted to hurt me, and if he had accidentally done something to upset me he wanted to know so he could fix it. 

“It's nothing,” I told him, stopping my tears. 

“It's not nothing if you're crying. Should I not have kissed you?” He asked softly. 

“It's not that,” I muttered. 

“Then what is it? Was it so awful and uncomfortable that it made you cry?” He asked, teasing but genuinely worried. 

“Are you sure it wasn't awful and uncomfortable for you?” I asked. His eyes widened. 

“Are you kidding me? Absolutely not. It was perfect,” he breathed. “Did you think I didn't enjoy it?” 

“I mean I don't know. It's not like I know what I'm doing and then you just looked away like I had slapped you,” I admitted. 

“You misunderstand. I did enjoy it, maybe more than I should have,” he slowly admitted. I understood what he was saying and was unsure what to say, so I just nodded. We were best friends. Best friends don't just kiss and enjoy it that much, do they? Is that a rule or something? Had we just ruined everything? Surely we could go back to normal after this…. “I'm gonna wash up,” Rafayel decided, disappearing pretty quickly. I sat on his couch, stunned. Worried. Pretty much feeling every emotion you could feel. Maybe it was a bad idea to kiss my best friend. I had just ruined everything. My one friend. I flopped onto the couch, laying down and hugging a pillow. Thoughts swarmed my head, attacking me. I pushed my eyes closed and wished them away, but instead, sleep greeted me. 

When I woke up I was confused as to where I was. Then I remembered what had happened. The date that stood me up. Rafayel. The kiss. Oh God the kiss. Could we pretend like it hasn't happened and go back to the way things were? Did I even want that? I was in Rafayel's bed and I knew I hadn't fallen asleep there, so he had to have brought me there. That was a good sign? I sat up and stretched, looking around to see Rafayel was not there. I heard movement outside, likely him making breakfast. It wasn't abnormal. I had spent the night with him before and had eaten breakfast with him. That's all this was. Normal. But why did it feel so scary to face him? He said he liked the kiss, but I had a hard time believing that. Either way, the kiss has changed things. And that scared me the most. I didn't want to lose Rafayel and our friendship. I couldn't lose him. So I decided to pretend I felt normal and that my mind wasn't flooded with confused emotions. “Morning,” I greeted Rafayel entering the kitchen. 

“Sleep okay?” He asked, turning to look at me. I nodded. 

“Whatcha making?” 

“Just some eggs.” 

“Perfect, something you can't burn,” I teased. 

“Everyone knows the first three pancakes don't turn out,” he argued. 

“Mm, but that's the first three. Not most of them burning.”

“It was a new pan!” He pouted. “Apparently I should have made more to show you I can make pancakes just fine without burning them.” 

“Next time then,” I chuckled. He shook his head. 

“Better watch it or you're not eating.” 

“You wouldn't dare,” I gasped. 

“Try me,” he sang. I laughed, making him smile. He got a couple plates and handed me one with food on it. We sat and ate as normal. Everything was going pretty normally. Almost too much so. We avoided talking about the night before or really anything even closely related to it. Just talking about surface level things. It felt a bit tense. We were still talking and teasing as usual, but it was different. I prayed it wouldn't last and we'd go back to normal. After we ate, I had to grab my things and head home, having work to get to. 

Almost a full week passed and I hadn't heard anything from Rafayel. That wasn't normal. I was terrified. I was worried I'd messed everything up and would lose him. I couldn't lose my best friend, my only friend. He said he liked the kiss, maybe even too much so…what did that even mean? Did he regret it? Regretted it because now he's repulsed even just by my sight? No. That didn't make sense. Maybe he was like me. The kiss unlocked deeper feelings for him than I had realized were there. But I knew he couldn't feel the same, he always went for the exact opposite of me. He was comfortable with his sexuality, with intimacy and things in general. I wasn't. I was too rigid and anxious. He was carefree and moved with the wind. I never gave myself a chance to think of him romantically. But after the kiss, that had changed. Feeling for him had been building up in the box I buried them in. And they wanted out. All I knew was that the silence was killing me. I couldn't lose him. I had texted him and called and heard nothing. So I took matters into my own hands. 

I knocked on his door, unfamiliar to me, but it felt better than just walking in as normal. He opened the door, looking disheveled- his hair looked like his hands had ran through it countlessly, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and tank top strap sliding down. “Y/n,” his eyes widened. “Wh-what are you doing here?” He asked, seemingly out of breath. 

“You haven't answered me all week-” 

“Rafa?” A woman's voice interrupted me and felt like a slap to my face. It was then I put two and two together…his appearance, a woman's voice calling to him…

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I began, voice shaking as emotions took over. “I didn't realize…bye,” I suddenly spoke, turning and leaving without giving him a chance to say anything. Tears pricked at my eyes, beginning to fall as I felt my heart break. Of course he didn't like me. He only said he enjoyed the kiss to make me feel better. I should have known. I should have kept a better lock on my feelings. I went home and broke down, cursing myself for making things even more complicated. But only more complicated for myself. Rafayel probably couldn't even stand the thought of me. I should have gotten the hint when he didn't say anything for a week. I had messed everything up. 

I woke up to pounding at my door. I had fallen asleep crying last night, heartbroken. Not bothering to change out of my PJs, I got up to answer the door. My eyes widened when I was met with Rafayel. I said nothing, not even knowing what to say after interrupting him yesterday. “Can we talk?” He breathed, looking unsure. I nodded and let him in. We sat on my couch, saying nothing. I didn't know what to say. I was heartbroken over someone who was never mine. My emotions and feelings were all over the place. I didn't know how to feel. “I'm sorry about yesterday,” Rafayel broke the silence. 

“You don't need to be sorry. I'm the one who interrupted you and your company,” I muttered.

“Not that, well yes that. I'm sorry I'm such an asshole. That I did that to you,” he breathed.

“I really don't know what you're talking about Rafayel,” I admitted. He nodded and took a breath. 

“Last week, when I offered to kiss you,” he began. “I did that because I liked you, because I like you. I didn't really mean to say it, but then you agreed and I felt like I had won the lottery. I was going to kiss the girl of my dreams. But then, after, I realized I had messed up. You're my best friend. Like you said, the kiss didn't mean anything. I panicked and worried I had messed up. I tried to tell myself the kiss meant nothing, that what I had felt wasn't that. I tried to get over it, over you, but I can't. It doesn't matter who I see or what I do, all I can think about is you. How your lips felt against mine. How if you were mine I'd get to kiss you whenever I wanted. How you mean everything to me, but I was too afraid to say anything because you were actively dating other people. Actively looking for someone that wasn't me. I thought I was okay with just being friends, that I could get over you, but I can't. It wasn't right of me to do what I did with her yesterday, wasn't right to you or her. And for that I am sorry. It was stupid. But I realized that I can't get over you. No one can replace you, y/n. I want you. I want to be yours. I want to take you on dates and show you how you deserve to be treated unlike all those guys who stood you up. I want to experience your firsts with you. I know it's messed up to say as I'm clearly not a virgin, but thinking about someone else experiencing that with you makes me so jealous. I want you to myself, even though I messed up. I'm sorry.” 

“Kinda weird to apologize about being balls deep in another woman last night and then confess to another woman the morning after,” I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. He laughed breathlessly. 

“To be fair, I didn't actually sleep with her. I couldn't after I saw you. She was rightfully pissed about it,” he admitted. 

“I was mostly kidding. I was afraid I had messed everything up. I buried my feelings for you when we first met, thinking I'd never have the chance. I didn't know that those feelings grew in the box I buried until you kissed me and they exploded out. Then I saw you with another woman and I figured I was just an idiot,” I shrugged. 

“I'm the idiot. I should have just confessed to you then and there.” 

“We both are. I should have brought it up after. Talked about it with you,” I nodded. An awkward silence grew, feelings out in the open. “So, what now?” I asked, unsure. 

“I show you how sorry I am?” He smiled. I tilted my head, confused. “Let me take you out tonight for dinner. Take you on a proper date?” 

“I'd like that,” I nodded. 

“Aaaaaand if you’re so willing we could go back to my place after and I can make it up to you even more, show you how other things are done,” he smirked. 

“Don't get too far ahead of yourself,” I chuckled. 

“That wasn't a no?” He raised his brow. 

“It wasn't a no,” I agreed. He smiled. 

“I'll see you tonight then? I'll pick you up around 6?” He asked. 

“It's a date,” I agreed. He smiled and nodded. 

“But before I go, I have to do this,” he warned, reaching for my chin and kissing me. He sighed when our lips met, pecking my lips once more before looking at me. “Been thinking about that since last week.” 

“Me too. Now get out of here I have to get ready for a hot date tonight,” I smiled at him. He laughed and stood, leaving me in my apartment. 

The date went well, obviously. Rafayel had showed up with my favorite flowers, dressed nicely. We ate at a restaurant neither of us had been to, but had heard a lot about. It was comfortable. Fun. Somehow, his silliness charmed me as he wiggled his eyebrows and asked if I wanted to go to his place, as I agreed. We were sitting on his couch and I was a bit confused. We had obviously gone back to his place for a reason, we both knew that. Yet Rafayel hadn't made a move. We were just chatting away on his couch. I was getting a bit frustrated. “Rafayel?” I asked suddenly. 

“Yes?” He blinked. 

“When are you going to make a move?” I asked. 

“What?” He stuttered. 

“We both know why we're here, unless I misread every single signal in the book. Do you not want to?” 

“I do!” He quickly spoke. “I just- are you really sure about this? You want me to be your first?” 

“I do. More than anything,” I confirmed, tone serious. He nodded, but still made no effort to move. With everything out in the open once more, I felt a bit more confident. I chuckled before moving to settle on his lap, facing him and pressing my lips to his. Despite my inexperience, Rafayel happily complied, hands resting on my hips and lips moving against mine. The kiss quickly turned more desperate, sending waves of heat to my core. I moved to catch my breath, lowering my lips to his jaw. Rafayel gasped, bit tilted his head back slightly, allowing more room. “Someone's feeling bold now,” he breathed as I moved my lips lower, sucking slightly. His fingers tightened on my hips and I smiled against his skin. 

“Just always wanted to try this,” I admitted. “Can I leave a mark?” I asked, a bit embarrassed. 

“Anything you want,” he breathed, letting out a small moan as I left a small hickey on his neck. “Fuck, you'll be the death of me.” I smiled at him, sitting up to look at him. His cheeks were flushed and eyes lidded with desire. I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his chest. “Oh? This fast,” he smirked. I pouted and he laughed, helping me take the rest of his shirt off. 

It wasn't the first time I had seen Rafayel shirtless, but it felt different this time. I hesitantly touched his stomach and he grabbed my hand, leading it to brush down his torso, starting at his chest. My breathing deepened, Rafayel's intense gaze on me. I eyed him curiously, brushing a finger against his nipple. He gasped and slapped a hand over his mouth. “You,” he breathed, surprised. I smirked at him. 

“Figured you'd be all sensitive,” I giggled, feeling more confident and tugging on his nipple now. I continued to play with his chest, squeezing, brushing and flicking to my heart's desires as I watched him wriggle beneath me. His chest rose and fell rapidly, small gasps leaving his throat. He was even more flushed now, redness creeping down his neck. And the best of all, was feeling how hard he was, all because of me. I wanted to try more though. I wanted to hear more from him. Hurriedly, I unbuttoned his pants, trying to push them down. He wasted no time in raising his hips to help me, but stopped me from moving further. “Are you sure you want to?” He breathed, trying to catch his breath. I nodded. 

“I do. I probably won't be that good at it, but I wanna make you feel good,” I explained. He nodded as I sunk to the floor in front of the couch, waiting. He groaned at the sight and threw his head back. “I haven't even done anything yet,” I teased. 

“You're too gorgeous, I don't know if I can even handle you with my cock in your hands or mouth,” he admitted, making me chuckle. I insistently tugged on the band of his underwear and he listened, taking them off. His cock sprung out, almost resting against his stomach, shining with precum. I stared at the sight. “Nothing?” He asked, looking down at me. I shrugged. 

“It's not like I've been this up close and personal with a real dick before,” I rolled my eyes. “It's nicer than I thought. More pretty than pictures, but I also have no idea how that's going to fit.” He chuckled at my honesty. 

“Want some guidance for this or you just wanna go for it?” He asked. 

“Help for now? I wanna know what you like, what you do when you stroke your cock,” I admitted. His jaw dropped, not expecting the lewd words from my mouth. 

“Fuck ok. Give me your hand,” he instructed. He wrapped my hand around his cock, his hand on top to guide me. “Like this,” he demonstrated, moving it up and down and squeezing some. “Don't be afraid to squeeze it more, just have fun and go with it,” he breathed out slowly. I nodded and he removed his hand. I was hesitant at first, moving slowly before deciding to speed up. That was the right move, Rafayel moaning at the pace, his head lulling back. I continued, experimenting as he said to see what he liked. It was not only helpful that Rafayel was vocal, but also incredibly hot. I was burning up, panties sticking uncomfortably to me. Rafayel was whining now, pawing at my shirt. I took it off without hesitating, my lacy bra on full display. He moaned at the sight before throwing his head back. It was then I decided to be even more confident, wrapping my lips around him. He yelped in shock, eyes widening in shock as he looked at me. I smiled at him, humming in content that he was now watching me. “Shit, you like me looking at you like this?” He asked, and I nodded, beginning to bob up and down. His hand gently made its way into my hair, Rafayel using every bit of focus to not thrust into my mouth. “Your tits look so good, fuck. Did you buy that just for me?” He asked, I smiled and nodded, taking him further into my mouth and almost choking. I gagged and Rafayel chuckled. “Careful baby. Take it at your own pace. You can use your hands for the rest,” he suggested. I took his suggestion, using my hands to reach what my mouth couldn't. I found my pace, making Rafayel get louder as he approached his orgasm. I was surprised when he wordlessly pushed my head off of him, his hands reaching down to finish himself off. He cursed as he came, spurts landing on my breasts as I watched him in awe. He had never looked so ethereal, head thrown back as he screamed my name. He recovered almost too quickly, pulling me up onto his lap and kissing me. Before I could ask how I did, he was picking me up and carrying me to his bed, setting me down on it. I gasped as my back bounced against his bed and he dove in immediately, licking up his cum from my chest. I moaned into his touch, the feeling of his tongue on my breasts and the lewd sight of him cleaning me up. “Fuck Raf,” I breathed, chest pounding. He stopped and smiled at me. 

“Did so good for me, let me repay you?” He asked. I nodded and he reached behind me to unclasp my bra, my breasts falling. I was insecure about their size and Rafayel somehow knew this. I had complained multiple times about them being too large for certain tops, he always disagreed. He was more than excited to show them the love he believed they deserved, hand immediately groping them. “Told you they're so pretty,” he mumbled, eyes locked onto them in awe as he played with them. He wasted no time in wrapping his lips around my right nipple, making me whine and arch into him. “Gonna convince you to let me see em more, my pretty girls,” he chuckled, suckling harder before switching. 

“Raf,” I whined, pulling his hair slightly, my chest beginning to hurt from all the attention. He moaned at the feeling, throwing me off. He froze, burying his face in my chest. “Did you just– are you into that?” I asked curiously, tugging his hair again. His hips jerked into my leg as he softly moaned. 

“Don't make fun of me,” he whined, pressing his lips into a kiss between my breasts. He trailed kisses lower and lower, making my breathing deepen as I shuddered. He paused when he reached my pants, looking up at me. “Are you sure you still want this? We can stop at any time,” he asked. I smiled at him. 

“I'm sure. I want this. I want you,” I confirmed. He nodded and I felt his fingers frap the top of my pants. 

“Then let's get these out of the way, shall we?” He smiled, pulling down my pants in one go. He licked his lips when he saw my panties, lacy and matching my discarded bra. “You're so cute,” he breathed, head dropping onto my stomach. “Gonna have to buy you some more sets so I can see you and worship you in them more,” he sighed, pulling them down as well. I bit my lip and looked away, afraid to see his reaction to me completely bare. He wanted none of that, gently turning my chin towards him in a kiss. “You're perfect,” he told me, looking into my eyes and making sure that I knew he meant it. “I know no one's done this before, just tell me if you feel uncomfortable and I'll stop immediately okay?” 

“Okay,” I breathed as I watched him move lower, settling in between my legs. I felt his breath on me as he breathed in my scent before diving in, licking a teasing stripe across my folds. I gasped at the feeling, legs instinctively wanting to close. Rafayel placed an arm across my hips, the other gently holding my thigh so I wouldn't move. He continues to explore, slurping away as if starved as he moaned. I was doing no better myself at staying quiet, hands finding his hair and pulling slightly. When I looked down, I saw his hips rutting into his mattress, his eyes briefly making contact with mine before he smiled and moved his tongue to circle my clit. My hips jerked, held down by his arm. 

I yelped in half surprise, half discomfort when I felt one of his fingers enter. “You okay?” Rafayel immediately paused. I nodded. “Just bear with it, I promise you'll feel good soon, but if not, let me know.” I nodded once more and his tongue returned, focusing on my clit. After a moment he experimentally moved his finger, gently thrusting it in. He set a slower pace, eventually adding another. “Raf, I,” I began to panic, tugging his hair up. He stopped once again and looked at me, caressing my face. “Is it too much?” He asked. 

“I dont- I don't know,” I managed to get out, feeling unsure. 

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, looking for an honest answer in my eyes. I hesitated. 

“Not really. I'm just nervous or something, I don't know,” I tried to explain. He nodded in understanding and pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“We can stop if it's too much, I promise that's okay. I don't want you to be scared or uncomfortable. Is there anything I can do to help?” He paused. “Have you touched yourself before?” 

“Rafayel,” I covered my face, embarrassed. He chuckled and moved my hands. 

“It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I only ask because if there's something you know you like and I can do to make you feel better, I want to do that. More clit stimulation? Less? Slower pace?” He rambled. 

“I…have,” I winced. “But I don't really prefer my fingers and things,” I whispered, embarrassed. He nodded. 

“More of a vibe gal? Does that make it more comfortable?” He asked. I hesitated, still feeling a bit uncomfortable talking about it with him. But he seemed so sincere, it was harder to be completely embarrassed. “It usually helps, yeah,” I admitted. 

“Mm wait here, lemme see what I got,” he said before running off, bare ass out disappearing into his bathroom. I furrowed my brows in confusion, laying there in his bed. He returned with a smile, holding a small black bullet vibe in his hand. “Will this do?” He asked me, showing me. My mouth opened and closed. Where the hell did he get a vibrator? Was it his or some random woman's? Did he get it to use on another woman? 

“Um, probably, but, whos- where,” I stuttered, unsure what to ask or how to ask it. 

“It's mine. Only been used on me too, but I'm willing to share,” he smiled. My eyes widened. 

“You?” I began, he cut me off with a laugh. 

“Everyone masturbates sweetie. I was curious about what it's do for me so I bought one. Didn't really like it, but I'm glad I kept it because now I can use it on you,” he explained. I blinked but nodded slowly. “Now let's just hope this babys got enough battery,” he said before kissing my nose and lowering once again. I felt the cold tip of the vibrator press against my clit and I instinctively pressed into it. It clicked on and I let out a moan at the feeling, relaxing immediately. I felt Rafayel watching me, looking for any reaction from me. He turned it up another notch at the same time I felt his finger enter me again. My back arched slightly. “Better?” Rafayel asked. I nodded. 

“Mmm, yeah,” I admitted. He nodded, beginning to thrust his finger before adding another. He added a third while simultaneously speeding up the vibrator, beginning to move it in small circles on my clit. His fingers began to thrust faster, curling slightly and making me cry out, seeing stars. It was an overwhelming amount of pleasure, coiling up in my stomach. “I'm close,” I warned Rafayel. 

“Mm, go ahead and let go for me baby. Let me see you cum,” he lazily encouraged me, continuing his pace with his fingers and vibe. The tight band in my stomach snapped, an orgasm rolling through me. I whined as I came down, the vibrator still on my clit and overstimulating me. Rafayel had mercy and turned it off, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean. I couldn't focus on him, not realizing he had sunk lower until I felt his tongue moving across me, gathering my cum in his mouth as he moaned at the taste. “Raf, it's too much,” I pulled at his hair, dazed. 

“You can handle it, love. Can't let it go to waste,” he slurred out, not making an effort to stop anytime soon. He lazily licked up my cum as I squirmed, overstimulation turning into me wanting more. Rafayel finally deemed his job of cleaning me up done, stopping to kiss me once again. I groaned into it, pulling him closer to me. I was exhausted, but I craved more. “Need you,” I breathed out. He nodded, breaking the kiss and grabbing a condom from his bedside table. He seemed drunk, drunk on my taste and me beneath him. 

“Gonna make you feel good,” he muttered, slipping the condom on and pulling my legs up and onto his shoulders. I blushed, his eyes bore into mine, biting his lip. “God, you're so beautiful. Can't believe you're in front of me,” he admitted, moving his cock between my folds, but not pushing in. I blushed more at his words, not exactly feeling pretty in the compromising position. He looked down, guiding his cock into my entrance before looking at me for any signs of discomfort. I breathed in sharply at the intrusion and Rafayel was quick to reach over and grab the vibrator, turning it on the lowest setting and pressing it to my clit. “Relax for me baby. Let me in,” he instructed. My body reacted, letting him push into me further. He dropped the vibrator when he was all the way in, both of us moaning at the feeling, the vibrator forgotten and still buzzing to the side. Rafayel breathed heavily, letting me adjust. What once felt like pain began to be pleasure and I needed him to move, my hips grinding up onto him. He groaned, and got the hint, hips slowly moving back, cock almost slipping out before he moved his hips back in. The pace was unbelievably slow for both of us. “Feels so good,” Rafayel muttered. 

“So full. I need more,” I told him, pace too slow. He nodded, picking up the pace by thrusting into me faster, still pulling out slow. Rafayel watched me as he moved, jaw dropped in awe when he slammed into me fully, soaking in the feeling when he pulled out. It was addicting. But not enough. I clawed at his arms, begging him to speed up. “I don't know if I can keep it together,” he warned. 

“Then don't. Please Rafayel, I can take it. I need more. I need you,” I cried. He nodded and his pace immediately switched, pounding into me as quickly as he could. I cried out, holding onto whatever I could of his. His eyes never left me, watching my face or my body, watching the way everything moved as he pounded into me, watching where we were connected. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the buzzing vibrator and got an idea, reaching for it. He turned it up and pressed it against my clit, the vibration making me scream his name. The vibration was strong enough for him to feel it, his cock being sucked in deliciously while the vibrator added extra stimulation to it. “Fuck, you're taking me so well. I'm not gonna last much longer,” he warned. 

“I can't!” I breathed, not even able to form sentences. Rafayel smirked, proud of himself for getting me into this state. 

“Cum with me,” he demanded, thrusting a few more times before coming undone, exploding into the condom. I came just as quick, milking him for all he had, squirting slightly on his cock. Rafayel collapsed onto me, wrapping his arms around me. We stayed like that for a while, coming down from our highs and returning to reality. “Oh my God,” I breathed, embarrassed when I realized that I had squirted. “Did I really?” 

“Mmm yeah. Didn't think I'd make you feel good enough to squirt on my cock,” he teased. “Gonna set my expectations high.” 

“I'm sor-” 

“Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for. That was fucking hot. Nothing you did today was bad. You were absolutely perfect. More than perfect. Everything I could have ever wanted and more. So don't apologize,” he cut me off. I nodded. We stayed like that a bit longer, until Rafayel sighed. “We should get cleaned up,” he reasoned but didn't move. 

“We should,” I agreed. 

“Before that, and I'm totally not saying this just to stay here a bit longer, we should talk?” 

“About what?”

“I wanna make sure you had a good time and you felt good. That everything was okay or if there's anything I can do next time?” He asked, kissing my jaw. 

“I can assure you that was probably the best I've ever felt. It was perfect. You were perfect. Is there anything I should change or do?” I asked. He shook his head. 

“If you having no experience felt like that, I can't wait for more,” he laughed. I laughed with him and he sighed, getting up and pulling out. After disposing of his condom, he picked me up and carried me to his bathroom, placing me on the counter while he ran a bath. Rafayel put me in the bath before getting in behind me, wrapping his arms around me again. He was always clingy, but felt extra clingy now. I was perfectly okay with that. He helped clean me up, noticing I was on the verge of sleep. Once we were done, he helped me out of the bath and info some of his clothes to sleep in. He practically clung to me when he got into his bed after me, holding me closely and pressing a kiss to my neck. “Thank you for trusting me. Sleep well my love,” he whispered. 

“Thank you for taking care of me. Sweet dreams fishie.” 

[okkotsuus]

"WE HUG NOW" ー taro sakamoto 🪽

features: taro sakamoto (sakamoto days)

contents: assassin!reader, one-sided pining, angst, heartbreak, implied trauma, injuries, depictions of wounds, mentions of blood, very mild gore warning, kind of implied self-harm/self-destructive behavior, tailing, insecurity, songfic, 1.9k words.

notes: this actually came to me in a dream and then i had a batshit crazy one after, oh and i'm still reading the manga so no spoilers pls... blaming @17020 because mimi got me into sakadays and now i'm a little hooked.

taro sakamoto was the world's legendary assassin, he was the best at everything there was: like some sort of god amongst men. everyone loved him, and if they didn't love him: they feared him.

no one was ever fully able to reach him, or even keep up with him. no one except nagumo, rion, and you.

if sakamoto was placed on a mission, even if it was solo, somehow you were always 'in the area.' whether it be okinawa or shibuya: you just happened to be there.

at first, taro thought nothing of it. you were his friend, and you always managed to make any hit run smoother with that sharp wit you were requested for. it was mutualism, scratch sakamoto's back and he'll scract yours.

eventually, it began to grow into something more.

neither of you noticed it; and if you did, you kept quiet about it.

little things began to happen, things like sakamoto keeping a change of clothes for you in his go-bag. or having your preferred mm of ammunition to go with your favorite gun.

the two of you existed in this weird sort-of in between space.

you weren't lovers; but you were certainly more than friends.

only you knew the code to get into his gun safe, and only he knew how to get past the security system outside your apartment.

assassins don't let people in.

it's an unspoken rule of the job.

one you broke.

it all happened one night, when you and taro were both scraped up from a rough mission to assassinate the head of the yamaguchi family.

wordlessly, you were both splayed over a motel bed, not even under the sheets as both of your eyes remained locked onto the swirling ceiling fan.

"why did you let that one grunt get a shot on you, y/n? you're better than that." his voice rumbled, tone non-commitant despite the obvious lacing of worry in his words.

sakamoto has always cared about those dear to him, maybe more than he should.

he always had let rion talk about anything that interested her, played along with nagumo's tricks. he was a good man, assassin or not.

so, when you don't answer, his head lolls to the side to see if you had even heard him in the first place. and brown eyes widen, just barely perceptibly at the hollow stare e/c irises give him.

"i always let myself get hurt on a hit. it's how i atone for the lives i take."

the words echo between the two of you, they make silver brows furrow and thin lips draw flat.

he doesn't speak, so you look away, head turning to make interest of the chipping paint on the smoke-stained walls.

a grazing of fingertips over the torn fabric of your jeans sends your body moving before you can even think. cheap lobby pen pressed against sakamoto's carotid as your weight pins his hips down to the shitty matress below.

taro doesn't even move, not trying to shove you away. he just lays there, limp boned and pliant.

lithe fingers find themselves in the skin on the side of your thigh with an audible squelch. it hurts, feeling him root around in your flesh: but any assassin could take a little pain. his intrusion into your wound is gone as he pulls a 9mm luger from you and tosses it haphazardly onto the carpet.

you don't know what to think, what to do. so you remain atop his form, ballpoint still just barely poking at the skin beneath his jaw. you can see the way his pulse makes the pen dig deeper before it falls once more.

and he's just letting you do all this.

not a single muscle in his body has made any move to resist you.

when he so easily could.

it has your brows raising back to normal, e/c eyes rounding in curiosity.

sakamoto wipes his bloodied fingers on his shirt before tearing the hem of it to wrap it around your thigh, tying it off in a messy knot.

your makeshift weapon fall from your fingers, "why are you doing this, taro?" he hums, fingers drumming against the shitty box spring you have him against.

"you shouldn't hurt yourself, it's not good." he drawls, eyes finally finding your own as he stared up at you in a way that sends your stomach twisting. "can't let the world think my partner's getting weak."

god, you know he doesn't mean it that way.

he means it because you two work together, because he lets you tag along on his missions.

but some selfish, foolish part of you eats it up: the definition you want it to have, that the two of you are really something more.

dumbly, you nod, sitting back and rolling off of him.

"okay, i won't." he's satisfied, turning onto his side with a grunt, broad back facing you.

within a few minutes, he's softly snoring, as if he hadn't just sent your carefully constructed world toppling asunder.

you don't sleep that night.

or many others, for that matter.

all you want is to think he meant that the way you thought he did, even though you know it is the furthest thing from the truth.

assassins don't fall in love.

it seems like you're a pretty shitty one, then.

nothing ever changes, a part of you so deeply repressed is too scared to be the one jumping into the unknown.

that awkward space you had always been in with sakamoto remains. too far to be just friends, but just too far from being lovers.

he makes it hard. unbearably so.

taro is a kind man: he remembers anything you tell him, he keeps his apartment stocked with your snacks, he doesn't let you leave on a mission without saying goodbye (once you forgot and he showed up on the roof of your car).

then, one day, he goes on a mission while you were stuck in a stealth operative on the northern coast. normally, he finishes a hit quick and comes by your apartment after with some shitty takeout and MREs: which he seems to prefer, for whatever unknowable reason.

but, this time, you have to find him.

he's not at his place, not at the JAA, not with nagumo.

you worry about him, for possibly the first time in the years you had known each other. sakamoto is japan's best, everyone had some sort of interest in having him gone. no one had succeeded; hell, no one had gotten close.

what if today they did?

the thought has an indescribable ache burning under your ribs.

it punch in his code and lock the door behind yourself, sat on his couch, and felt tears burn at your eyes for the first time in god knows how long.

he comes home at around 1:32am, doesn't even acknowledge your presence as he shrugs off his coat; even though you know he can see you. his hands are empty, except for a convenience store bag.

sakamoto doesn't eat anything other than MREs, unless it's the fancy dinner provided at order meetings. he certainly doesn't eat junk food and snacks.

"you hungry, taro?" the words come out more fragile than you intend, but he doesn't speak on it. the man shakes his head, holding up his bag as he comes to sit on the couch next to you, tearing into a wafer bar and crunching at it.

it's upsetting, how he won't even look at you, how he doesn't even dignify answering you with words.

"i thought you hated pre-packaged foods..," you mumble, brows furrowing. he pauses for the briefest moment, mid-bite. "the girl at the register said they were good," he speaks.

oh.

that's a weird feeling. one you don't think you've ever quite felt from something sakamoto has said to you.

it goes away when he hands you a pack of your favorite chips from the bag. 'probably why he went in, in the first place,' you think, as if to soothe yourself.

even as you tear into them, there's a lingering sting in your nose, almost like burning.

it never quite fully goes away.

taro sakamoto rarely goes out for the sake of it, much less alone.

so why is he leaving in the middle of the day?

you catch him as you're coming back from a mission, his favorite MRE from the association and some chinese takeaway for yourself. he doesn't look at you, standing on a nearby rooftop and watching in a baffled curiosity.

in a selfish moment, you follow, out of sight.

and you see him meet a girl.

a girl who looked so normal, so soft. not a single bone in her body was dangerous, her gaze never hardened past annoyance. she was so utterly everything that you weren't.

because she wasn't an assassin.

at first, you're angry: furious, even.

you think he's so stupid, choosing a weak woman knowing exactly what happens to people in his line of work. how could he, when you had been standing there waiting for so long?

but when you see the gentleness in the way he touches her arm, like he knows he can break her and it's the last thing he would ever want: it's hard to stay angry.

because she's beautiful and kind and so gloriously normal.

you lose your food on some random roof as you leave. the wind friction from how fast you're moving has tears forming in your eyes, or maybe they were from something else.

sakamoto doesn't seek you out. he doesn't hunt you down when you go on a mission without saying goodbye first. he doesn't show up on your doorstep with food after his hits. he doesn't bandage your wounds when the guilt gets to you and you let your target land a blow.

it doesn't surprise you when he retires.

since he met her, it had only been a matter of time.

you don't plead with him like nagumo does, you don't accept all the offers people make you for his head, you don't ever try to find him: even though he makes it so painfully easy to.

how could you?

he was happy, surely. and you weren't selfish enough to risk ruining it.

sakamoto always got everything he wanted, whether it be fame, money, power, or even his eventual family life. while you got stuck with the weight of what could've been, of everything that you let slip between your fingers because you were just too damn scared.

to him, your friendship was just a small thing that happened in his past as a hitman. to you, when it ended: so did the world with it.

⚜️ ㅤ okkotsuus ㅤ 25

[gwenyn28]

Since some people seem to struggle to understand the difference between facts and what is speculation or interpretation, here are a few things I think we should talk about concerning season 8b, especially episode 11.

What is a fact? What happened on the episode? What does this mean? What is commonly used in media and what is just interpretation or an assumption about it?

Fact: Eddie said it once and Buck twice that “Eddie is straight.”

From a screenwriting perspective, unfortunately “straight” is the default sexual orientation. It is always assumed that characters are straight unless it is stated otherwise.

Hen is shown as a lesbian from the beginning due to her marriage to Karen. Michael came out to Athena and also to the audience in season 1. Buck started to date a guy so he is at least seen as queer since his sexuality has not been explicitly addressed on the show yet. There was just a hint about the “in which pool he should dip into”. That he is bisexual is stated solely off screen in interviews; if it will ever be said on screen is unclear.

Now, let’s focus on Eddie and the statement that he is straight. The question is: Why would you need to say that? Nobody announced that Bobby, Athena, Chim or Maddie are straight in the show. Why is it said three times in such a short time span about Eddie? The explanation is very simple and can be circled back to a common narrative device - mention something that stands out as weird or different to come back to it later and to prove it to be wrong.

For example: In a crime movie let someone talk unprompted about the crime, asking questions about it just to show in the end that this person was the one who did it. Why would they talk about it otherwise? Normally a culprit would try to lay low and to not get any attention. So, that person mentioning the crime on their own unprompted leaves the viewer with the question “Wait a minute, that is weird… Maybe they have something to do with it.”

The same goes for the “Eddie is straight” phrase. Why would you mention it explicitly more than once if that was not something you need to circle back to? Like a narrator saying “In fact, he was not straight.”

Fact: Buck and Tommy spent the night together. Buck woke up alone but Tommy was already up and in the kitchen to make breakfast for them, suggesting that they might give their relationship another try.

Buck: Don’t worry. I know it doesn’t change anything. Tommy: Why not? Buck: What are you saying? Tommy: I’m saying… what are you doing on Saturday? Buck: You want to try again? Tommy: I mean I’m not ready to move in or anything. It kind of seems like you aren’t either. Buck: And you’re not scared I’m gonna break your heart anymore? Tommy: Not as much. Now that the competition’s out of the way.

Why would he use the word “competition”? That was intentional because we know writing in a tv show is always intentional. They don’t put up random words just to fill spaces. There is not enough time for that. And even though Tommy didn’t say the name, Buck knew that he was talking about Eddie after a moment of thinking. Which led him to the conclusion that Tommy saw Eddie as a competition.

Yes, I admit that you don’t have to read this in a romantic way. You can also see it purely platonically. But in the end it comes down to one fact. Eddie and Buck are friends first. Best friends. Your ex-boyfriend you just hooked up with thinks that this man is his competition. That he can just be in a relationship with you when said man is gone. So he is no competition anymore for your attention or something else.

We know how important Eddie is for Buck. So suggesting “hey, I feel threatened by your best friend and I am happy that he is gone” (not to forget that Tommy bought Champagne to probably celebrate the night they spent together, as well maybe them getting back together) is a very shitty move. No matter if Buck has feelings for Eddie or not in a romantic way… but they are friends. And his ex wanting his best friend gone, even celebrating it? How can Buck accept that and get back together with a person who will probably always feel threatened by Eddie? Buck is living in his house and they talk regularly even though they are apart for now. (And we know that Eddie will be back later in the season.) What does Tommy expect to happen even if he thinks that Eddie stays in Texas for good? He would probably want Buck to choose between him and Eddie, that Buck should distance himself from his best friend. And that is never a good foundation for a working and healthy relationship.

We get it even explicitly told later on in the conversation with Maddie when Buck said that “I understand him feeling threatened by what me and Eddie have…”

Fact: Tommy scoffs when Buck told him that Eddie is straight.

You usually scoff when you don’t believe what the other person is telling you. When you think they are wrong, on purpose or not. And exactly that is what is happening here. Buck might be convinced in that moment that Eddie is straight but Tommy is not. Therefore he can’t hold back and scoffs at Buck saying it, insisting on it, even slightly rolling his eyes.

To read a bit deeper into it, even though that is pure interpretation now, you could say that Tommy might see himself in Eddie in that particular situation. We know that he came out later in life, being engaged to Abby before. Tommy and Eddie have spent some time together in the beginning. So he might have seen Eddie acting in ways that looked familiar. Like how Tommy behaved and talked when he was still in the closet, still denying his true sexuality. Therefore his assumption that Eddie might not be as straight as Buck thinks he is.

Fact: Buck said “I don’t have to want to sleep with everyone I have feelings for. And I don’t have to have feelings for everyone I sleep with.”

Let’s focus on the second part first. This is about Tommy who also understands that this is about him because of his immediate reaction. He takes a step back and he closes himself off. He acknowledges that Buck says that just because they slept together last night it doesn’t mean that he has any feelings for Tommy. Because he can sleep with someone without having them. And we know that he definitely can do that when we remember how Buck slept around a lot in the beginning of the show (even though he might have done that because he was looking for something meaningful). So, Buck made it clear that the night was nice but it doesn’t have to mean a thing and… actually, it doesn’t. It was just them sleeping together. Later in the conversation with Maddie he even admits that he was just using him as a distraction (see more about that down below).

Now, the first part of that sentence is more up for interpretation. Buck says that just because he has feelings for someone doesn’t mean that he has to automatically sleep with them. If we remember season 1 and his time with Abby… it took a while for them to sleep with each other. First they got to know each other over the phone and Buck developed feelings for her. So, this can be read as “sex is just a means to get some relief and because he likes doing it. But if he has feelings for someone, the focus on sex is shifting. It becomes more meaningful and not just something he jumps into carelessly.”

Fact: In 8x06 Tommy broke up with Buck, using the words “I’m your first, not your last.”

Before getting to the conversation with Maddie this is worth mentioning here. Because this fits into the whole narrative that was written around Tommy. He calls Eddie his competition and only without him being there he can be in a relationship with Buck. Which means that he probably also saw Eddie as the competition during the six months he and Buck were together. This sheds a certain light onto the first/last comment. Tommy made it very clear in the conversation with Buck the morning after their hook up that he felt threatened by Eddie’s presence in Buck’s life. Which can be read as that his comment during the break up was about Eddie. That Tommy might have been Buck’s first, but that Eddie would be his last in Tommy’s opinion. Because he thinks that there is something going on between them (otherwise he would not feel threatened by Eddie and wouldn’t have scoffed at the straight comment) and this might be what leads to Buck breaking his heart. Therefore, he ended it before that could happen.

Fact: In that kitchen scene Buck and Maddie talked about the possibility of Buck having feelings for Eddie.

Buck: I mean what’s that even supposed to mean? I’m living in Eddie’s old house, therefore I must be in love with him? Maddie: Are you? Buck: In love with Eddie? Maddie: It wouldn’t be so crazy. Buck: Except I’m not. As much as everyone seems to want me to be hopelessly pining for my straight best friend, it isn’t just like that. I mean does not having him in my life - and in the field - leave a big hole? Yes, it does. Sure.

It is a fact that Buck said that he is not in love with Eddie and that it is not like he is pining for him.

Now, let’s interpret or better explain that.

Why did they talk about this in the first place? Why mention the thing that Tommy brought up the morning after Buck and him hooked up? Why not just talk about Tommy? If the goal was to make these two get back together, the whole conversation would have been solely about Tommy and what they did and what and how Buck feels about it. And how to move on, considering Tommy’s “offer” for a second try. To get back together somehow or at least to dive deeper into Buck’s feelings for his ex. But instead, for the first time in the show, the question was brought up if Buck was in love with Eddie and that it wouldn’t be that crazy.

There are three things worth mentioning here.

1. Nobody, neither Maddie nor Tommy, has used the word “love” before. This came from Buck who used that word, who drew the conclusion subconsciously about the whole exchange with Tommy that this was about him being in love with Eddie. Not “having feelings for him”, “having a crush on him” or “seeing him as more than a friend”. No, it was the word “love” that was used. And that is a very meaningful word. It doesn’t even stop there because he talks about pining for his “straight” (see the importance above) best friend who left a big hole in his life because of his move to Texas. He didn’t even give a clear answer to Maddie’s question. He could easily have said “No, I am not. I see him as a friend/brother.” And that would have been the end of it. But instead his reply was more a deflection. “Are you in love? - He is straight.” Leaves one thinking about this.

2. And about the pining part… Buck says “as much as everyone seems to want me to be hopelessly pining for my straight best friend, it just isn’t like that.” Who is everyone? Nobody has said anything about him and Eddie before. Tommy is the first who brings up potential feelings for Eddie, nobody has ever voiced anything that comes close to these “accusations”. So, again. This is a connection made up in Buck’s mind, similar with the “love”. Nobody has mentioned either of these things before. This might be just an assumption but maybe he talks about “everyone” because deep down he has feelings and thinks that it is obvious for everyone. So that is why he refers to everyone in his statement.

3. Since wording stuff in a particular way is so important and is always intentional it has a deeper meaning that the question about “being in love with Eddie” is brought up in such an explicit way. Doing this is exactly the same that happens when Eddie’s straightness is mentioned so many times. It is for the casual viewer outside of any fandom. The seed is planted and the viewer starts to question “Wait a minute… could he be in love with Eddie? Is that an option?” For the first time, the thought is out there for them to consider it. About Buck and Eddie maybe becoming a thing, being in love with each other. They are clued in and start to think about the possibility, maybe they even start to look out for further clues in any upcoming episodes.

Worth mentioning here is also the fact that Buck said “I understand him feeling threatened by what me and Eddie have but… he seemed so relieved he was gone. It pissed me off. It felt like he was accusing me. Is this what he’s been thinking the whole time we were together?” That is a fact that this was said on the show.

This is directly circling back to the words Tommy used in that prior scene the morning after when he talked about Eddie being a competition and which makes the conversation with Maddie more about Eddie than about Tommy. And how much Tommy is convinced that Eddie could be and probably has been a threat to his relationship with Buck.

Also, let’s not forget another important thing here. The common romcom tropes. People might say “But Buck said that he has no feelings. So the possibility is definitely shut down.” This is not how these tropes work. Two people can be friends for years and then they start developing feelings for each other. Or realize they have had these already without being aware of them. They always are in denial at first because they are convinced that starting a relationship could ruin their friendship. So, they try not to dive into this, to deny that there are feelings involved.

Take Jess and Nick from New Girl for example. Happened with them as well. And there are many other tv couples that started as friends and before they got together they denied their feelings until something happened and they finally took the risk.

Fact: Buck suggested that maybe he should call Tommy to apologize.

Buck: I should call him. Maddie: Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying. It’s not like he moved to Mars. Buck: No, not Eddie. I mean I will call him but… Tommy. I should apologize. He’s probably right. I was using him as a distraction so I didn’t have to feel alone. Maddie: Not the best reason to get back together with someone. Buck: No.

Buck thought about calling Tommy, yes. But not to make up with him, to apologize and to tell Tommy that he was wrong. That there was nothing going on with him and Eddie. That he wanted to try it again with him. To give them a second chance. Nothing was said that could lead to the assumption that he wanted to call him for any of that.

No, he just felt bad about using him as a rebound. Because he felt lonely. That Eddie’s absence had a huge impact on him. (Let’s not forget that he said Eddie’s name 15 times alone in that episode. That is an all time high, the only episode Buck said Eddie’s name almost as much was in 7x04). Buck even admitted that Tommy was probably right even though he did not explain about what exactly. One could read into this that Buck agreed with Tommy about having feelings for Eddie though this is definitely just an assumption. But even this assumption aside, that part of the conversation Buck had with Maddie is only about him feeling guilty of using Tommy. That is how to read that exchange. Nothing else.

In the next episodes it is not even mentioned if he did call him to apologize (or rekindle). On the contrary. We see Buck in these next two episodes having meaningful facetime calls with Eddie instead to support him and to be there for him. While Tommy or calling him isn’t even mentioned at all.

_____

Let’s sum it all up then. After Eddie left Buck misses him and he feels lonely that he can’t stop talking and thinking about him. Then he runs into Tommy and sees him as a nice way to distract himself from that. So that he doesn’t have to think about the hole Eddie left in his life. There are no real feelings towards Tommy involved anymore. He just feels sorry that he was using him the next day.

Meanwhile Tommy is ready to jump back into bed with Buck and to even go further towards restarting their relationship because Eddie is gone and he doesn’t have to feel threatened anymore. Because Eddie was seen as a threat during their relationship, that he would probably be the reason for Buck to break up with him.

There is not much room left for interpretation. This is what happened on screen. I tried to put up as few as possible assumptions, mostly trying to base the explanations on facts and common screenwriting means and storytelling tropes.

_____

Honorable mention:

I know we should not put too much weight into interviews because they are just partly reliable since a. the people can lie with what they say and b. they don’t know the full story yet or the story changes between the interview and episode. But still there are certain quotes that support what I explained above. So that it is not far fetched to either draw these conclusion or explain it in a certain way.

“Yeah, I mean, he’s going to be moving to what’s in his future. And look, Tommy is in Buck’s romantic past for sure.” Tim Minear, November 14th, TV Fanatic

“But series creator Tim Minear said Episode 11 is not meant to shut down the shippers once and for all — no matter how insistent they are on making Buddie happen.” Tim Minear, March 20th, The Wrap

“It makes sense for his boyfriend to notice, you moved into the guy’s house and really he takes up a lot of space in your world and I think you might be in love with him, and Buck protests and kind of knocks that down. And also when Maddie asks him flat out, he says, it’s not like that. So you can either believe Buck or you don’t have to. It’s up to you.” Tim Minear, March 20th, TV Insider

“He’s telling his truth in the moment, for sure. I don’t think he’s trying to lie and hide anything from [Maddie],” he says. “He’s never even considered this before. He’s telling his truth, for sure in that moment. This is something that’s been brought to him from Tommy and something that he was not, as I say, having any kind of prior thoughts about.” Oliver Stark, March 20th, TV Insider

“is this really about the fact that do I really want to be back with Tommy or am I trying to fill a void in my heart because my best friend just left and moved away?” Aisha Hinds, March 20th, TV Insider

“You run into an ex, and you're in a place where you could just use some company and some distraction, and sort of one thing leads to another.” Tim Minear, March 22nd, Entertainment Weekly

“And it was also important for me to have Buck say, "Look, I don't have to sleep with everyone I have feelings for, and I don't have to have feelings for everyone I sleep with," which is a direct reference to who Buck was in the first season or so.” Tim Minear, March 22nd, Entertainment Weekly

“The truth of the matter is, Buck is using Tommy as a distraction for the turmoil he's going through.” Tim Minear, March 22nd, Entertainment Weekly

“Tommy has a function in this universe that isn't just to be Buck's bed buddy” Tim Minear, March 22nd, Entertainment Weekly

“And I think in that episode, Buck even realizes, "Maybe I'm not interacting with Tommy here for the right reasons." And then obviously he's kind of a d*ck to Tommy in the way that he handles that conversation, and it's obviously because he's so taken aback, but he's kind of rude in what he says to Tommy. So I think for the most part, he probably has gone some way to shutting that door regardless of what he would want.” Oliver Stark, March 24, Screenrant

[steddieas-shegoes]

There’s too much pressure on him.

He can’t fuck this up.

Eddie keeps looking at him, suspicious but not saying anything. Thank god.

Robin keeps giving him tiny pep talks when they manage to find a few seconds alone: “you got this” and “I promise he feels the same way” and “if you don’t do it now you’ll regret it forever.”

The last one isn’t so much a pep talk as a threat, but it still does the job.

He shakes his hands out, like he’s about to jump in the pool for a swim meet.

He bounces on his feet, slaps his arms like he’s warming up before taking the court for a must-win basketball game.

He looks and feels incredibly stupid and he’s certain that someone will see him acting like this and have questions. He just hopes it’s not Dustin. Or Max. Or Mike, Jesus Christ.

He sneaks away when the announcers give a five minute warning to the countdown. He needs a minute alone before he potentially ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had besides Robin.

He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does.

No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.

And fucking this up will ruin a lot more than just his friendship with Eddie; it’ll ruin the entire group’s dynamics.

No more hanging out at the arcade while the kids play, no more bringing snacks to game nights, no more adults only movie nights to make up for the shitty movies the kids make them watch during family movie nights.

No more getting high in Eddie’s bedroom while he plays his guitar, only trusting Steve to see how he still struggles with some chords because his fingers have more nerve damage than even the doctors know.

No more falling asleep on the couch while Eddie reads to him or tells him made up stories that turn into campaigns for the kids.

No more swimming in Steve’s pool after midnight, when Steve is scared, but wants to face his fears with Eddie by his side.

The bathroom door opening startles him from his morose thoughts, and he rushes to try to close it.

“Chill, man. Just me.”

Eddie.

“Sorry, must’ve zoned out.” Steve pretends to wipe his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “All yours, man.”

Steve starts to leave when Eddie’s hand curls around his shoulder, tugs him back.

“You’ve been weird all night, Stevie. What’s goin’ on? Worried about having to see Nancy and Jonathan kiss?” Something’s off with Eddie’s voice towards the end, like he was going for teasing, but lost the effort halfway through the question.

Steve could hear a one minute warning from the other room.

His heart rate quickened.

“No. That’s not it.” Steve gulped. “I’m fine. Just worried.”

“I don’t think you need to worry.”

As if Eddie would know.

“I’ll just head out there-“

Eddie pushes him against the back of the bathroom door, hands on his chest and eyes boring into his.

“You were worried about kissing me, right? I didn’t imagine the way you avoided me all night and the way Robin kept poking me and looking at you anytime someone brought up kissing at midnight?” Eddie looks like he’s back in the boathouse, looks wild in a way Steve kind of loves, but probably needs to settle. “I haven’t imagined the way you look at me, have I? Like, the crush on you is probably out of hand, but I couldn’t have made up the way you always fall asleep on my shoulder when we try to stay up too late and your hand always finds mine and-“

Steve couldn’t take it. He could listen to Eddie spiral all night or he could just do what he was pretty sure they both wanted and just kiss him.

So he does.

He leans forward and kisses his lips, hopes that the way Eddie’s fingers curl against his chest doesn’t mean he’s about to push him away.

It’s short, and Steve’s hands are stuck at his side while he waits for a proper reaction from Eddie, who is frozen other than the fingers digging into Steve’s chest hairs somewhat painfully.

“Eddie?” He asks after a long silence.

“Steve, shut up. I might be in a coma still. Or those stupid bats got me and I’ve spent the last few months dreaming up a somewhat regular life.”

Steve smirked and placed his hands on top of Eddie’s, slowly unfurling the fingers and holding them in his.

“Eddie.”

This time, Eddie managed to look at him, and his shoulders fell as he seemed to catch on that he wasn’t dreaming or dead.

“Can I kiss you again or are you gonna panic?”

Eddie let out a strangled noise and nodded.

“I need a yes or a no, Eds,” Steve laughed.

“Yes. Please. Always yes. Kiss me for every single minute of 1987 if you want. Start and end the year kissing me. Kiss me until I-“

Steve shook his head, so stupidly fond of this man, and leaned in to kiss him again.

This time, Eddie managed to kiss him back, lips not as firm as they parted beneath Steve’s.

And this time when he pulled away, Eddie’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he was smiling.

“Can’t believe you did this on New Year’s Eve. How stereotypical. You’ve turned me into a stereotype. How could you do this? Stevie, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, but you really should’ve done this yesterday or something.”

“I love you, too.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut, eyes going wide as his cheeks turned a bright red.

“I have really gotta learn to shut up. I blame Robin for the rambling.”

Steve’s hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his forehead with a laugh.

“I think you had this problem way before you hung out with Robin.”

“How would you know, sunshine?” Eddie faked annoyance, but the term of endearment gave him away completely.

“I just know you pretty well. And I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

“You have too.”

“I have, haven’t I?”

They both stared at each other in silence for a full minute before bursting into laughter.

Someone banged on the door as they rested their forehead against each other, laughing through another kiss.

“If you’re all done making out in there, some of us have been holding it since last year!” Max’s voice rang out.

“That joke doesn’t really mean anything when last year was two minutes ago, Maxine!” Eddie yelled back, not pulling away from Steve.

“I will use Steve’s bathroom if you don’t come out in five seconds!”

“God, please no.” Steve said as he pulled away and opened the door. “You suck so much.”

“Not as much as you apparently,” Max said back as she pushed past them and slammed the door.

“I didn’t even get to the sucking yet,” Eddie whined. “Why is she so mean?”

“She’s a teenage girl. They’re all like that.”

“Thank god I never liked them.”

“Never?”

“Steve, I was so busy trying to hide how hot I thought you were, I didn’t even notice girls.”

“Seriously?!” Steve laughed. “That must’ve been terrible for your image.”

“Yeah, well, now I think I’m the one terrible for your image, so I guess it worked out for me,” Eddie smirked, kissing Steve’s cheek.

“Very funny. Now back to the sucking thing…”

“Oh my god, I can hear you!” Max yelled from in the bathroom, causing Steve and Eddie to roll their eyes and laugh.

“That’s okay, we’ll just go upstairs, won’t we?” Eddie said loudly.

“Yep, I think that’s where we’ll be for the rest of the night!” Steve said back.

“Just go away!” Max yelled as the toilet flushed.

Steve did lead Eddie upstairs, and they definitely did intend on using a few minutes of privacy to their advantage, but were interrupted the moment Steve’s pants were unbuttoned.

Mike Wheeler would probably never recover from seeing Eddie’s lips on Steve’s neck, but maybe he’d at least learn to knock on doors before opening them.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I come bearing a brainrot of a relatively normal s/o for the Lin Quei bois except s/o can see dead spirits and always keep a straight face. Sometimes they act weird bc they're avoiding a really nasty looking ghost and have grown numb to it. But when the bois finally catch a glimpse at the 'ghosts' their beloved mentioned all they see is some kind of eldritch horror. (This came from my recent fascination with the manga/anime series Mieruko-Chan)

Rate my really shitty attempt at creating eldritch creatures. (Actually don’t cuz I’m mega sensitive) 🦦

Tomas Vrbada

Ever since being forced by Johnny to watch horror movies, Tomas had been scared shitless when it comes to paranormal activity.

Ghosts, poltergeists, you name it, Tomas is scared of them all.

So when you -his seemingly normal but beloved partner- have been intentionally avoiding a certain spot in the Lin Kuei, shifting your gaze over in it’s direction now and then before ignoring it completely with a straight face, he didn’t think much do it at frisky but the more and more it has became the more Tomas started to feel an indescribable feeling within his chest.

It was the same feeling that he would often get when having been forced to watch a horror movie with Johny, that feeling where he knew something scary was about about to happen, which only worsened the longer the scene continued to build and ramp up the tension and to have him too scared to even look over his own shoulder; only to near enough be scared shitless a second later and loose hold of his popcorn.

Needless to say Tomas had been forced to watch one too many movie where the protagonist was somewhat clairvoyant to known that when you were giving a very specific area, out of the entire Lin Kuei no less, an cautious look. He knew better then to ever indulge in any amount of curiosity that he may have, even if it was a smidge, he would pretended that he saw nothing and would go about his day like normal. He wasn’t about to become one of those stupid characters who’d willingly go into a house that was very clearly haunted by visage alone!

He’s following your example right down to a T! He honestly doesn’t want to know what was lurking in that corner and he wasn’t particularly all that eager to find out either. Tomas would rather life the rest of his life in ignorant bliss if he could, but unfortunately for him that wasn’t going to be the case, for he had found himself having to go to that very room to get something for his brothers. However as soon as he opened the door, Tomas caught a glimpse of the thing in the corner that you’ve ominously warned him about.

It was hideous, so hideous in fact the sight of it made Tomas want to gag but he knew he couldn’t, so he slapped a hand over his mouth. The creature had bore the appearance of a pure bred Russian bear dog, but unfortunately for Tomas, that’s pretty much where the similarities started and stopped; For it had clusters of small, almost peddle sized eyes that were black as night taking up it’s entire face.

That wasn’t all, when the creature opened it’s mouth -if Tomas could even call it that- it’s stomach would rip open just as a thousand pair of what could only be described as human hands emerged out from said stomach, palms laying flat on the floor, as they began to shuffle across the floor in search of something. One particular pair of hands almost came into contact with Tomas’ foot, almost making him scream, but upon realising that their search efforts bore no fruit, the hands then retracted back into the creatures stomach, where it would then close itself up as though someone had just zipped it shut from the inside, before moving towards a different part of the room.

Scared out of his wits, Tomas bolted out of the room, completely forgetting what he had originally went there for, and just ran as fast as he could. He ran even when his legs began to hurt, he ran even when his lungs were begging for breath and he ran even when he had all but forgotten why he was even running in the first place. Tomas didn’t stop running until he saw you heading towards him, his brothers probably sent you to see what was taking him so long, and without a second thought; Tomas held you in his arms tightly, burying his head deep into your neck as he whispered.

‘How can you bare to seeing these things on a daily basis.’ The image of that thing was forcefully seared into Tomas’ mind, haunting him forever.

You didn’t have to ask further details as to what it was that he saw and instead reciprocated his hug, stroking the hairs at the back of his neck reassuringly, whilst pressing kisses into the side of his head where your would then rest your cheek against. ‘I don’t.’ You replied, looking straight ahead at the creature just as it poked it’s head out of the door, staring at you with all of their small beady black eyes before slinking off into the room across through the wall.

Kuai Liang

Concerned was a word that was often used to describe what Kuai Liang felt whenever you would shuffle closer towards his back, you might as well have been hiding, when passing down a particular hallway as your eyes were focused forward. Almost as though you were avoiding looking at something you didn’t like by pretending it didn’t exist.

Kuai Liang was aware of your uncanny ability to see the dead as you did the living, it was one of the things you disclosed to him upon first meeting, and even recalled the stories you’d tell him regarding the kinds of ghosts you’ve come across. Upon further questioning as to what they looked like you told Kuai Liang that most were human or humanoid in figure, but others went beyond the realm of human comprehension.

The latter of the two kinds were the ones you tended to avoid having direct contact with the most and this most recent one was no different.

‘Is it them, my love?’ Kuai Liang asked, looking over his shoulder at you worriedly.

You hummed. ‘They’re always with us, following but they most like to stay here and watch everyone who passes by.’

Kuai Liang pursed his lips at this new tidbit of information, whilst concerning learning this was, he was concerned about was getting you out of this hallway a lot more. Just as he was reaching back to grab your hand, Kuai Liang caught slight movement from out of the corner of his eye but before you could say anything, his eyes were already locked onto the other side of the hallway; more specifically the area you purposefully avoid looking towards every time you have to come down this hallway.

Kuai Liang remembered you telling him that It shouldn’t be possible for him see what you see, but it wasn’t uncommon for ghost to become temporarily visible. So with that in mind Kuai Liang could only deduct that what he was seeing before him what you regarded as a type two ghost; In all honesty the word ghost didn’t quite seem to match what he was currently seeing.

The creature in question was about his height, maybe a little shorter, then again he wasn’t quite sure considering it was sort of slouched. It appeared human enough in its physique, but something deep inside Kuai Liang told him that what was standing before him was far from human. He just couldn’t escape this deeply unsettling feeling that continued to grown within his chest the longer he continued to look. A sharp snapping sort of sound caught his ear, and in an instant his senses sharpened as Kuai Liang watched to see the creature viciously attempting in tearing it’s own face off with it’s hands that were infused with needles, as though desperate to get it off, to reveal…a smooth porcelain like mask beneath shredded and stringy bits of it’s former face.

As if watching that wasn’t enough the lower half of the smooth porcelain mask began to crack, a jagged fissure spread from one end to another like it was forming itself a mouth but once it had finished, the crack like mouth then began to open to reveal an endlessly dark void beneath and just before it could even think to speak; you quickly grabbed Kuai Liang’s hand and pulled him down the hallway until you were a safe distance from the creature. You could tell that seeing something like that had gotten to Kuai Liang, even if it was by a little margin.

‘Are you okay?’ You asked, squeezing his hand.

‘I fear for you little flame.’ Kuai Liang admitted. ‘Your gift for seeing these things, I worry that it will plunge you into the darkest depth that not even my fire would be nearly enough to guide you out safely.’ You smiled sympathetically at his concern. ‘As long as I don’t acknowledge them or give them a line of communication, then there’s nothing to worry about.’ You reassured him but you could tell that it wasn’t enough with the way his brows furrowed deeper with worry. ‘Doesn’t mean that I wont still worry about you.’ He utters, tightening his grip on your hand, afraid to let go.

‘I’m not expecting you to because no matter what I know you’ll always worry about me but I promise when I tell you that no harm can come to me if I don’t incite it. I’ve lived with this my entire life, all I ask of you is to trust me.’ You practically begged as you stared Kuai Liang deep into his eyes and watched as he sighed before pressing his head against your own. ‘I trust you with my life, little flame.’ He says in a hushed whisper. ‘However it’s within my duty to protect you from all harm, living or not.’ You smiled at his warm words, closing your eyes as you learnt in towards his natural warmth.

‘Then at least let me protect you from time to time.’ You cheeked, causing Kuai Liang to let out a deep chuckle as he pressed a little kiss to your lips. ‘I won’t make any promises.’ He cheeked.

Bi-Han

Now Bi-Han wouldn’t say he whether he did or didn’t believe in ghosts, but even if he did he wouldn’t be one to actively try to prove their existence. He was the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, he had no time for such childish ridiculousness, not when there were more pressing matters that were more worthy of his time and effort anyway.

However when you first told him that you could see ghosts, Bi-Han didn’t know what to make of it, he’s not one to discredit your abilities in anyway shape or form. He’s not like Tomas who watches one too many horror movies and starts flinching at every subtle creak or groan of the floorboards. Yet that doesn’t mean he didn’t find your power intriguing because after all Bi-Han is a man who strives to know more, he strives for knowledge and so he would take this opportunity to fully understand how exactly your power works.

He even takes note how you purposefully ignore an area with everything you had, keeping your head down or eyes facing forward whenever you had to go anywhere near it, coming out of the room with a straight face as though you weren’t fazed but Bi-Han was well trained in knowing when his intended target was lying and or on edge. Upon asking why you were avoiding that specific part of the Lin Kuei, he took in everything you told him about the ghost that you encountered, engraving every last detail it into his head as to paint himself a picture, but even then Bi-Han doesn’t think it remotely resembles the creature that you saw.

Never did he think that he would ever see it for himself but one day he did indeed find himself staring into the unsettlingly large, bulging eyes of the creature as it breathed heavily, as though it was severely out of breath and was just now recovering. It was about half his size and had hair covering everywhere…well except its midsection, which was all just leathery skin that rose and fell with its breathing pattern. It’s hands were human but everything else about it wasn’t, it had lost it’s lower mouth, leaving only it’s top row of sharp teeth; making the question of how it could possibly eat or consume anything to Bi-Han’s morbid curiosity.

The creature then proceeded to close the distance between the two of them and all Bi-Han could smell was death, blood and rotting flesh but he wasn’t fazed. He was aware of what the creature was doing and wasn’t about to give it the reaction it so desperately wanted, he was above these childish attempts of intimidation; So in retaliation Bi-Han only narrowed his eyes, presenting himself in a way that told the creature that he could see what it was doing and that he was above such tactics. He could see why you’d avoid looking upon these things, they could send a weaker minded person to the brink of insanity upon first glance, but Bi-Han was made of much tougher material to succumb to such.

The creature backed of, finding no enjoyment in this at all, and left the room through the wall on all fours for much weaker prey, looking like some dog with a sever case of mange.

Later that day where you and Bi-Han were settling down for the night, Bi-Han then decided to admit to what he saw prior, not liking to keep such things from you especially when it’s in regards to your powers. ‘I saw it.’ He said point blank as he stroked your back and it took you a moment to realise what he had meant by that before a look of realisation spread across your face. ‘You did? I thought that wasn’t possible.’ You replied.

‘It was only a glimpse but what I saw, I saw it as clear as I see anything else.’ Bi-Han told you, wondering how it was that you could keep your psyche intact when seeing such vile creatures on a daily basis. He even wondered if you’ve seen some that were even more grotesque then the one he had encountered earlier.

‘Not exactly a pleasant sight are they?’ You joked, looking at him with a small smile, knowing firsthand how unnerving it was to know that such things could possibly exist, even though you did finally mange to find a routine you had followed religiously in the events where you did happen to encounter them. Unfortunately It never truly gets rid of your first experience with seeing them for the first time, firmly believing that you were going to die due to how horrific and fear inducing they were.

‘No, I’m guessing that I’m right in assuming that this one pales in comparison to others you’ve had the misfortune of seeing?’ Bi-Han asked, watching your every expression like a that of a hawk. ‘Way worse.’ You responded as you snuggle yourself deeper into his chest, closing your eyes to avoid looking at the glowing pair of eyes that peered into yours and Bi-Han’s room.

[lfzyxf]

Can you write fluff where Isaac takes care of his sick girlfriend? I got sick myself quite recently and would like to read something like this with my comfort character ~ 🙈anon

Hope you like this, honestly i don't think he'd have much experience but he would definitely do his best to care for you. Just Isaac being the best boyfriend ever.

Isaac Lahey x gn!reader Word count: 840 Masterlist

You really don’t have time for this. Everything has been going wrong once again, first, this weird deer runs into Allison’s car, then the windows at school break because a bunch of crows thought it was a great idea to smash themselves against it. And now you’re stuck in bed, 3 blankets covering you, including a heated one. Next to you is a mountain of tissues because you can’t be bothered to walk all the way over to the bin. And your bedside table stands full of half-empty medicine packaging.

You sneeze for what feels like the hundredth time that morning before groaning miserably. You can see your phone flashing once again from the corner of your eye but just like with most things today, you can’t be bothered getting it. You close your eyes for a few seconds before the sound of your door slowly opening makes you open them again, albeit barely.

“Did you die?” You hear him before you really figure out that he’s standing in your room. “Yes Isaac, I’m dead, I’ve died a miserably, lonely death.” He nods before really taking in the view in front of him. He sighs before quickly walking over to your bin and dragging it towards your bed. Making an odd-looking face he starts throwing away the pile of tissues and lying next to you. “I was wondering why you weren’t answering my texts, figured it had to be something close to dead for you to ignore me” he explains while laughing.

You snort before taking the bin away from him and shooing him away. He does as you request, only to plug your phone into your charger. “Are you hungry?” You shrug before nodding half-heartedly, “I could eat.” Isaac nods back before leaving your room, making you close your eyes and rest while you wait for him to come back.

Fifteen minutes later your door opens again, Isaac is holding a bowl with what you assume is soup and in his other hand is a large bottle of water. He opens the door further by pushing it with his hip, before walking back towards you. “A meal made just for you by the incredible chef Lahey, you’re welcome.” He speaks with some sort of accent you can’t quite place and a ridiculous look on his face, making you laugh.

“Oh, thank you kind sir-” you interrupt yourself by laughing again when he makes an extravagant bow. He puts the stuff he got you on the bedside table that stands empty before jumping into your bed and laying his head down on your lap. “Caught a cold?” He asks while playing with one of the blankets covering you. “Some type of virus, again” you explain rolling your eyes.

“What’s that- the third time? This month?” He says while laughing softly, but his hands move to hold yours softly. You nod in response, squeezing his hands before grabbing your bottle of water and taking a few big gulps. “Shitty timing, like always,” you say once you’re finished hydrating. Isaac shrugs, a soft smirk resting on his lips like it often does. “At least you’re safe here, no birds crashing against your window. No annoying twins running around.”

He moves to sit next to you now, handing you your bowl of soup before softly kissing the side of your head. “Don’t think too much about the others, they’re fine. You need to rest and get better” he says softly, playing with your hair as you relax into him.

It’s quiet while you finish eating, he’s grabbed your laptop from the corner of your bed to try and find something to watch. When you’re debating whether or not to do another rerun of your favourite show, Isaac’s phone starts ringing. He sighs before picking it up, “It’s Scott-” “It’s okay, it might be important” you interrupt him.

He lets out another sigh before picking up, you can’t hear what Scott’s saying but by the look on Isaac’s face, it’s important. You’re about to tell him to just go when he responds to Scott. “Look Scott, don’t you think you can do this without me? Call Derek if you need to but I can’t leave right now.” You hear some distant words before they say goodbye and Isaac hangs up, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed.

You look up at him with a raised brow. “What? Scott’s a big boy, he can handle himself for one night. I need to make sure that you are okay.” He puffs his chest out, almost acting proud of staying here with you. “Yeah, okay big guy- I really need some protection here in case a deer breaks in” you respond laughing.

He laughs, shaking his head softly so his curly hair falls back in place. “That’s what I’m here for,” he says before grabbing the forgotten laptop again. “And to rewatch this show for the fifth time.” You smile at him before snuggling into his chest, ready to watch your favourite show again.

[eatmycodbetty]

{You again?}

part one! . . . two. . three

pairing: anthony lockwood x gn!reader

word count: 5.3k

summary: As a former Fittes agent, you have honed your craft well on your own. You would never expect an old friend to call you, nor would you ever expect to be so curious about this so-called agency he’s in.

notes: it has been a longggg time since i’ve written ff and i understand that this is a dying fandom, but here are the goodies. shout out to my two weird friends for pushing me to do this. tell me any critiques!! i wanna get better :)

One . . .

4:23am. The North Bank, London.

Silence.

Then…ringing?

The void of noise, of air. It swirls around you and suffocates. 

You feel nothing other than your heart beating, the wind knocked out of your lungs. The pounding in your ears only resurfacing once the ringing stops. You are running. You can’t remember from what, all that matters is that you get out. 

As the pounding starts to subside and the air comes back to you, the shouts from fellow agents bite at your senses. Nothing but “Run!”...and that is what you are doing, so the voices blur back out to focus on your feet. You have a gnawing pain growing there as you keep going, almost numb from your shitty stiff soled shoes.

This has to end soon. You have to stop at some point...right?

Suddenly, a door appears in your rushed view, slightly ajar at the end of a hallway you've hastily turned down. Finally, you think, an end to this bad dream.

As you near the small wooden door, you let your hand fall on the edge of the opening, being able to catch some oxygen and breathe it once more. However, the door turns almost to ice- you freeze.

Just being able to lift your hand off the door, a horrible gelatinous face appears through the handle, pushing you backward in a cold force. You hit the ground with a thud, and the air is yet again gone from your lungs.

Right. Now you remember. You were sent to investigate an old and dilapidated flat by the Thames. Something strange considering the location, the water should have warded off anything too strong.

You were wrong, the whole lot of you were. Something much more sinister resided deep within the floorboards of this rank building.

Your team is dispersed, and you have no knowledge of how they are faring. All you remember right now is that you turned a corner and had to run, nothing else to aid your cause as a Type Two spirit had you in its vicious sights.

Malaise setting in, you found yourself running with anything you had left, being drained as you try and fight your way out of this bloody shitshow.

But...now you’re locked. You can’t move, you can’t look away. The figure melts through the door, like thick, murky water. There appears an apparition of a man, jaw stretched so far down you can't bear to look- but you're forced to. His sunken eyes have you gripped in some horrifying way. It seems that even if you weren't being ghost-locked, you would freeze under the sheer terror that is inflicted upon his gaze.

How idiotic, you think in this moment, assuming you could outrun a Type Two with all of your supplies, everything, out of your reach. Now you are here, laying back on the ground as a Visitor forces you into a ghost-lock. You feel a stone on your chest, like the dreadful ghost itself is standing on your body, forcing your consciousness into submission.

Then...a kind of peace wavers over you. Although, the air leaving your lungs leaves a part of your active brain scrambling to get away from something impossible. Wavering dangerously close to calm, your body is giving up. Weak, you finally quiet the active part of your brain as the lock is settling in nicely- a solemn goodbye. . .

. . . then, a snap.

A flash appears before you.

You feel a hard tug on your body- then you're suddenly sitting up, feeling so dizzy you could faint. Your vision blurs as you get a hard punch of air back in your lungs and start to feel the cold of the hallway. You’re being pulled up on your feet now, being able to hear the familiar ringing in your ears again, followed by the pounding.

As your focus finally settles, you are face to face with Kat, one of your teammates. She gives you a hard smack across the cheek as she's trying to talk to you, but you can only hear mumbling. You wipe your face and as you look at her again, your hearing starts to seep back in.

But, before you have the chance to fully regain your senses, she pulls you away from the hallway. Feeling your feet, you stop stumbling after a few seconds as another wind hits you, and you’re back. 

You two eventually find a window, the frame broken and glass crumbling. This has to do. Before Kat can get something to bust it out, you're kicking it out. You do it rather messily, however, as your pantleg is torn up by the glass and new scars are made along your right leg. You can't feel much of the bleeding, but you can see its residual on the moldy window frame through your hasty kicks.

When it is broken enough for you two to slip through it, you gauge what floor you're on- the second. It isn't that far down, and you see a large, open rubbish bin with various bits of bags and a half termite-eaten mattress. You two look at each other, then you jump.

A loud metal pumph sound, then pain. You can feel better now, the air from the outside making you regain more of yourself. Despite that, you landed bad, and you can't be sure that you didn't break something from that fall. You look over, and Kat is starting to leap over the side of the bin, hand clutching her ribcage as she falls over the other side. You find some abominable strength from inside you to push up on a rotting box and climb over the bin, falling on the other side soon after Kat does.

Sitting up in some dingy patch of grass, you find yourself towards the back of the flat, facing the Thames. The sun is starting to rise, but only enough to disturb the deep black of the night sky. You two are on the ground, but by helping each other up you eventually stand. You feel a twinge of pain in your torn up leg as you put your weight on it finally. Something worse must have happened to it in the fall, but you can't focus on that now.

You both rush (hobble) to the front of the flat, and as you turn the corner you see only one other agent back. As your vision settles and you call out, you see it's Bobby, your researcher. You are almost relieved, but by the look on his face at you two and the nervous looks he gives the building, something is desperately wrong. As you catch up to him, you quickly realize that the two other agents in your team are missing.  

You take a deep breath in, mostly cognizant again as the malaise seeps out of your body. Instantaneously you take a shaky stride towards the front of the house, ignoring the shouts to stop from the two behind you. As you reach the cracked front step, a tottering figure suddenly stumbles out of the doors, holding something.

You ready yourself, not prepared to go out without a fight. But, this isn't a ghost...you then suddenly relax your fighting stance at seeing your leader, Quill Kipps.

Kipps is holding one of the new recruits, sent with your group by your supervisor, on his shoulder. There's a pause as he takes what seems to be his first breath, and you all realize the event unfolding in front of you.

He then suddenly staggers down the steps and sets the kid down a good ways from the front door in front of the three of you. He stands back up and runs a shaky hand over his neck. He is bleeding, bruised, and looks like he also went through the same kind of hell. The kid, however, is still. His eyes pasty and spread open, staring at the fleeting stars. Kipps finally speaks, but almost in a hush.

“He’s locked.”

Silence fills the night air once again, and you all hang your heads and rush to help the two boys. Whispering curses as you quickly realize the young boy is too far gone. Then, away from the madness, you and Kipps lock eyes. He is terrified.

Placing hands on each other's shoulders as the other two call aid, you stumble to the ground. Whilst the numbness from the adrenaline starts to drain away, the pain in your leg, in your body, and in your mind, is all too much to bear to keep standing. He seems to feel the same, and you two just lie there on the pavement. As the sirens whirl, you both watch the sunrise light up the stars, observing how they fade with the coming light.

Then, exhaustion finally takes you over and all that’s left 

is darkness.

2 Years Later. Saturday morning. Your flat.

Working by yourself has its perks. Sure, it could be better with some help, but you don’t ever peck above your grade. Besides, a lot of normal, everyday people have issues with spirits that don’t have the means or time to go through a real agency.

You enjoy these smaller cases anyways, it feels more relevant and actually helpful than the expensive cases you pursued at Fittes. You have also grown your connections by a substantial margin. You know all of London better in these two years than you ever did during your almost 8 years at that blasted organization.

Growing a kind of reputation for closing a plethora of ghost cases by yourself, you are rivaling even Fittes and Rotwell in numbers. Agents like to jeer at you when you make your presence at certain events for higher agents. It could be from jealousy or intimidation, yet either way you don’t tend to care because you suit your occupation just fine. They would be less inclined to detest you if they could get out of their own pretentious skulls and use their Talent to the fullest whilst they still have time. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself.

Your flat could be better, but for someone who doesn’t need much or occupy much space, a one bedroom works out just fine. It is much better than living around snobby arseholes like every other agent. You would rather move the country than have to do that ever again, to have to go back to that place.

As you're thinking about this, you start to stir in your bed. Waking up has always been a bit hard, but you've found a good routine. Before you can even open your eyes, you feel the sunlight from between the curtain shades peeking out and dazzling your bedsheets.

You finally open your eyes, taking in the same room you've seen for the past two years. It is kind of comforting, or claustrophobic, either way- it's home. It's decorated with bits and bobs from your travels and time spent over your almost 17 years of life. You see old family portraits and pictures with old friends- stuff that makes you a bit teary if you think about it for too long.

Which is great, because you are immediately distracted and tuned into a certain buzzing on the other side of the room. As you wake up a bit more quickly, you sit up and find that it's your telephone ringing.

Oh no...what time is it? You quickly check the clock beside your bed, only 10:38am.

You sigh and start to get up, chasing the phone before it hangs up. You cannot miss a call from any potential clients, it's been a bit slow recently as other agencies have caught onto your tactic for gaining clients. Pricks.

You pick up the phone, barely being able to utter a "Hello, this i-" before a boy begins to yell at you on the other side of the line.

“Y/N!! I saw you in a small clipping in the back of the paper, I can’t believe it! A solo agent?? Oh wait.. sorry for the intrusion...and the yelling. It's George by the way.”

You pause for a moment, confused as to which George in your life might know you and nevertheless YELL at you after not speaking for so long. You think for two seconds until it hits you.

It's George Karim, a smart boy you knew from Fitts who got fired on biased and unfair grounds, you were one of the only people to defend him. You two were kind of inseparable at some point, so you reply with haste in a similar overly-friendly manner.

“GEORGE KARIM!! It’s been so long...you startled me.” You tiredly laugh. “Also don’t apologize, you are always welcome to call me whenever. What’s up mate? How have the years been to you?”

You rub your crusty eyes and smile lightly as it settles in that you still do have one friend from Fittes. It’s easy to get lost in everything bad that came from there. On the other end, you hear some yelling and...things being thrown? He gives a small sigh, then a hesitation before continuing.

“I’ll get straight to the point. You should come over for tea. Today, preferably. I’ve been working with a smaller agency that I think you would work well with. I’ll let you know why when you get here, I’m afraid I must go. Does half past one sound alright?”

You snicker a little, missing his awkward tangents, but also a bit uncomfortable with what chaos you hear on the other line. Wait.. “What agency? And tea sounds just fine then, but what cafe should we go to? The same one next to that fountain on Clermont?” You find yourself reminiscing on your younger exploits, you two certainly shared some fond memories before he left.

He pipes back up, now more hurriedly, “No, no. You should come here. Lockwood & Co on 35 Portland Ro-”

You are so surprised you cut the poor boy off in an almost shout, “LOCKWOOD?? George I-”

He cuts you off with a quick, “OKAY BYE SEE YOU THEN!”.

You’re left with the sound of a dead line as he hangs up. Sighing, you put your phone back on the wall and lean against the wall, still weak from waking up so suddenly and pondering the new day that has been spread for you.

There is no way that George left to work for Anthony Lockwood of all people. You didn’t actually know the guy personally, only heard rumors and quips from Kipps.

From what you’ve gathered over the years, he’s an egotistical geezer that fits right in with the rest of those types at Fittes. Yet...his one thing is that he hates them just the same as you. And they hate him, or rather they did when you were there.

As much as you have a kind of disdain for those kinds of men, you trust George. And you also were going to spend this Saturday doing absolutely nothing, so you technically have no excuse.

You check the time. Quarter past 10. You push back on your feet and make your way to your dresser to get ready for the day. He said it was 35 Portland Row right? That's just a little ways down a few blocks.

“...It can’t hurt” you mutter as you pick up a comfortable and clean sweater. You get dressed and make sure you have your errands list ready. Grabbing your rapier as you head out the door, you stop for a second and ponder on the situation. Why did George Karim of all people call you? This can't just be to hang out, he's too weird to be so forward like that normally.

Whatever, you think. You lock up the flat and start to head out for whatever this day may bring. One final thought crosses your mind as you shift out of the building,

"I can't believe I am visiting another fucking agency."

1:25pm. 35 Portland Row. Still Saturday.

You've been staring at this house for about a minute now. It's nicer than expected, but also smaller than you might have thought. For as much as you have heard about Lockwood & Co, you would expect a headquarters that's kind of...well...greater.

You finally give a hearty knock on the door.

...Nothing.

You think for a second, you don't want to disturb a neighbor so you check to make sure you're at the right place- and you are. You take a quick sigh and go to knock on the door again, but your hand hesitates. Is that...yelling?

You hear things being knocked over, running, people shouting. Your heart tenses as you think of the possibilities of either an intruder or some insane ghost mishap occurring on the other side, and you quickly reach for your rapier.

But then suddenly, the door opens with a gust of wind and you welcome the sight of a seemingly safe, slightly older, George Karim. He looks kind of swept up, it seems whatever made him hang up this morning is still going on. Your sigh of relief is met with his welcome.

“Y/N! You’re early.” He smiles meekly and steps aside in the doorway. “Please ignore the mess, we’re not always living in a barn...it’s been a rough day.” Wearing an orange hoodie and some joggers, he really hasn’t changed that much.

He shies away from your curious gaze, which he seems to read as more judgmental. You smile at the boy and take your hand off the rapier to put it on his arm, giving it a soft squeeze. “George, I’ve known you for most of my short life. I could care less about the state of your house.” You stifle a laugh, “I’ve seen your room before, nothing scares me.”

He looks back and meets your eyes now, a smile creeping back onto his face. “I’m glad you’re here, y/n..”, he gestures into the hectic house, “..but please come inside and watch your step, it’s a circus in this place.”

He moves a bit more as you shuffle inside, moving quickly to shut and lock the door behind you. Before he's done, you take in the sight of the house for a few seconds. You spot a shorter girl with medium length brown hair and a blue sweater running down the stairs and into a distant room, yelling about something you can barely make out. Just as she leaves and George comes to lead you away from it, a taller, slender boy in a suit makes the opposite strides from a far room up the stairs, also yelling?

George is on your right now, patting your arm to follow him. "I told you to ignore the circus, y/n, come on through here."

You shudder your head to focus on George, now leading you into a sunny kitchenette, somehow untouched by the storm in the other rooms. It's a quaint area, like people live here quite comfortably. It's nice. Sunlight stretches across the windows and reaches just to the back edge of a small dining table.

You notice the sharpie sketches on the table cloth. Three distinct figures...maybe more...are depicted. You can see the one that is meant to be George, a figure with glasses and notes about being nerdy and complaining. Yup, has to be him. Along with the George stick figure is a boy in a suit, a girl with short hair- maybe the two you just saw?- and then two other names mentioned here and there- Holly and Flo. Must be associates, their names aren't much mentioned.

As you analyze the table cloth, George comes back with two cups. "Please actually sit, y/n, you don't have to stand like you don't know me- do I have to remind you of our preteens? I could blackmail you into anything at this point."

You laugh and act offended, sitting at the table. "I can't believe you would ever use my childlike wonder against me, G." You put a dramatic hand to your forehead, peeking to see him roll his eyes as you two share a chuckle. As you put your hand down you remind him, "Besides...who would you even share it with. You're like my only friend now you tart."

He nods in thinking, setting the two cups down. "I mean you're in my home with my agency sooooo~" You try to grab him as he laughs and narrowly evades a fake punch, "I'm kidding! Just kidding." He laughs and grabs a small pot. "Before you kill me you want only one sugar right."

You sit back in the chair and respond, "Yes! Wait how did you remember that?"

He sits down across from you and dips a cube into your cup. "You really haven't changed that much...I was worried you'd be a bit more annoyingly stoic after you left and started to work on your own." As he sets the sugar back down, you take the tea, starting to stir with growing curiosity to his thinking. "George. Karim. You've known me since I was like 9 years old. Who could ever make you think I'd be that different, huh?" you quip. You inhale the tea and blow just a small bit before taking a sip, perfect.

He takes his own teaspoon and stirs around the cup, thinking, before he looks back up to you with the cup in his hand. "People tend to do that. It happens- I don't know. I mean right now I can think of a person or two that can be rather...neurotic." You snort, "More than you??"

His face drops to his usual sarcastic sneer, jaw kind of dropped to feign shock with a scoff. "As a matter of fact yes, y/n. Oh I am sure you and Lockwood would get along great." He sneers at you, his voice laced with a hidden joke.

That damned guy again. Why does George give the same impression of Lockwood that others have in the past? Isn't that his literal boss? You respond, more withdrawn than the previous jests, "...Well then. Until that happens I am sure you're fine company- with all of your neuroticism." You start to snort but stop, opting to pick up your cup again. You stop for a second as you do this, taking a breath and continuing, "Why did you call me here, George. What's really going on."

As you take your sip he stares, only a small bit hesitant to begin this conversation. “So this is my new agency. I don’t know what you’ve heard about Lockwood & Co. from arseholes at Fittes but I can guarantee I wouldn’t be here if any of those were true.” He takes a short breath, sipping on his tea as if he couldn't wait to get that statement out.

You respond, picking up on his nerves. He really does care, not just about your potential judgement but his team. “I would mind more if Lockwood was someone I knew…but to be very honest I have only heard rumors. I trust your judgement George, you’re one of the few left with a good head on their shoulders- including me of course.”

You go to take a sip. He brightens at this response and goes to speak, but you cut him off. “But! I can still exercise caution. You of anyone should understand the issue with trusting other agents these days. Especially in their expertise.” You take the sip.

He sighs, but an understanding look softens his features. “I get it y/n, but this is why I called you. You told me yourself to get in contact if I ever needed a hand whenever I was thrown out, and now we need a hand more than ever” You nod, and he continues, picking up his face as he explains.

“It’s only a few of us. I do research. Holly Munro is our new assistant, but she’s in and out. Right now she’s out because we don’t have too much to deal with, so it's only 3 of us in the house.” One of the lesser mentioned names on the table cloth. You turn to look at her little stick figure portrait before responding.

Turning your brow, “Right...because not too much still entails turning the house over…” you prod.

He ignores you and continues, “Lucy Carlyle has an incredible Talent for Listening, and she’s strong in the field. You two would get along.” He has a smile attached to the end of this statement.

You turn your nose up inquisitively, “I’d like to meet her,” and just as you finish speaking, the same girl in the blue sweatshirt from earlier comes busting through the other door.

“GEORGE!” She shouts as she almost slips on the way to the table.

He sighs and turns, telling you ‘one sec’ with a roll of his eyes. “What, Luce.”

“We still can’t find th-”

She stops for a second once she reaches the table, realizing the stranger in the room. She straightens her sweater and quickly holds out her hand for you, her movements fastened with hesitance. “Hi. I’m Lucy. George’s friend.” You take it as she leans to George, “…is this the old colleague you-”

He cuts her off with a hushed and agitated, “YES.” This new girl, Lucy, seems to be a bit standoffish or shy. She talks like she's trying to keep you at a distance, but you can notice the fact that she is actively trying to be polite and welcoming for George's sake. They must have spoken about you beforehand, you shy away at the thought.

She smiles out of formality as she waits for your response. “Nice to meet you Ms. Carlyle, my name is Y/n L/n. I've just heard great things from George. What can’t you find..?”

She thinks for less than a second before she’s back in her hurry, turning to George again. “OH! We still can’t find it, we’re going out tonight to see if one of us dropped it.”

He withholds a panic, simply nodding, “Fine, but…do I have to go..” he complains. You notice a new cut on his eyebrow, and a patch on his hand- something you didn't have time to notice beforehand. Remnants from recent battle, you assume from the conversation.

“If you think for a second we’re leaving behind our eyes then you’re better off working the Tesco down the road.” He scoffs and agrees as she is whisked back out the door, yelling a hurried “Nice to meet you Mx. l/n!”. Then with a shaky thud she exits back to the flurry in the other part of the house.

“Sorry about that, we’re all a little stressed right now...obviously." He huffs in annoyance as he ends the sentence, thinking on something distant.

You speak up, “yeah..is this why you called me?” You glance out towards where the girl had left, wanting to know what is happening behind those doors.

He takes his tea again, “Yeah.. I couldn’t think of a more qualified person to help us. We have been getting stronger and stronger cases, and without some sort of saving grace we barely make it out alive each time. I just want us to have the reassurance of a trusted and skilled agent when we go on these higher risk contracts.”

You nod and take a large sip, seemingly startling the boy who ended up staring at his cup. “I’m in. Not in the company or anything, but I could use the money and being hired help isn’t too bad- I'll even stake out if you need it.”

He gleams, standing up and extending his hand, “We only need you on call for certain nights. If you keep those nights free so that I can contact you if anything goes to shite, that would mean the world.”

You shake his hand, “It’s a deal then, do I need to meet your boss or-”

He shuts you off, “oh no, Lockwood doesn’t really know that we’re hiring some peace of mind. He kind of insists that we don’t because of his pompous thick skull, but Luce and I agreed that it would be safer. He knows you’re over and-” then doing his best posh impression, “-a friend of George’s is a friend of mine.”

You both chuckle into the table, something tells you that Lockwood is a real treat of a person. A fanciful trio, from what you can gather. You pipe back, “Well it isn’t the first time we’ve done some undercover work. When do you need me first?”

He sinks back into the chair, delighted, “Well, apparently we might need you tonight…if that’s okay. We lost a potential source at a hotspot in the middle of a park. There was a nasty cluster and I guess it just sort of slipped when we were escaping. If you can’t that's okay I-”

You cut the boy off excitedly, “That’s fine! I have nothing to do for the rest of the week. Somehow, I think the higher agencies are trying to steal my cases. They're appealing to lower classes in ways I have never seen, and I get less and less calls as the days drone on. I can never escape those dicks, huh.” You scoff and sit back down, setting a reminder on your phone as you two discuss the details of the reconnaissance mission.

He stops the planning to reply, “If it makes you feel any better, you are still considered a saint for the locals right now. We’ve heard you mentioned a few times in our own contracts. Fittes’ pedestal might be crumbling from your work over the past year or so. Keep making them scared. You've got our support.”

You smile at each other warmly as you set down your teacups in the sink and both go back to the front door. The house seems quieter, and you secretly hope you could have some more time to meet his new colleagues. They don't seem horrible, just interesting characters. You can handle that.

As you are saying your goodbyes, smiles and laughs abound between the old friendly pair, you catch a figure in the staircase. For a moment you smile lightly at the slender boy out of formality, and you seem to think he starts to smile back.

But, just as quickly you’re now out the door and heading back to your own flat. You find one standout emotion whilst walking out the door and back to your place. Excitement.

11:28pm. Your Flat.

Tying the final knot around the stalks, you stand on the edge of your bed to hang a fresh bundle of lavender on your window. You climb back down to check your phone, still no call.

The silver blade from your aunt lies next to your go-bag, and you sit in your room in comfortable underclothes, your work outfit folded next to the supplies and ready for a quick leave.

You do worry for George, whether you would like to admit it or not, but you’ve always been like that. He was one of the only people there for you as a person, not just as an agent.

You used to have shared bracelets, labeled as the “Ghost Siblings”, a snide remark from a former teammate turned point of pride. Somewhere between the two of you leaving you lost touch, but it was nice to see the sentiment never left.

RING RING RING

You almost jump out of your skin as your telephone rings, disrupting your thoughts. You answer it immediately, putting it on a kind of speaker as you hurry away from it, starting to button up your shirt.

George sounds sort of breathless, but hushed on the other end. “Hey y/n, I was right. Be quick!-"

He hangs up, or rather something happens to make him hang up. Your heart starts to race, it doesn’t matter if it is down the block- what if you don’t make it?

You’re out the door as soon as you get your shirt on, barely grabbing your supplies as you lock your door.

What did they get themselves into?

~fin~

I hope you all enjoyed this!! There is MUCH MORE coming, hopefully soon,,, thank u for reading <3

EDIT: This chapter has been edited to clear it of any stupid mistakes and lulls that appeared bc I made this at 3am. toodles! - ives :p

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hello lovely! I have a pretty weird/specific request. So if you don’t feel like writing it no big deal. I have celiacs, which means anytime I eat gluten(bread and such) my body turns autoimmune. Meaning every time I eat it(on accident but I just got diagnosed we all thought I just had a shitty immune system and a sensitive tummy so it’s been a bit of an adjustment) I end up getting an upper respiratory infection/issues or the flu(body aches and all). Anyways can I have a small story with whichever marauder you think fits it, with clod/flu supplies always at the ready and just not minding that she is ALWAYS sick 🥺 if not it’s a okay I understand 💕💕 just feel free to delete ☺️☺️

hi hunny! i hope you are doing well! remus lupin x fem!reader

cw: mentions of being sick, flu like symptoms

650 words

When the bedroom door opened, you could see the immediate concern written over Remus’ face. Under usual circumstances, he would get home about an hour before you, more if things at work were particularly swamped. Seeing that you were home obviously long before him, wrapped in twisted sheets and looking miserable, was enough to make him panic. Still, he was as gentle as ever when he crouched by your bedside, the back of his hand pressed to your scorching cheek. 

“Thought I saw your shoes by the door.” He mused, a deep groove making its home between his brows. “You feeling sick, dove?” You nodded, a wave of nausea going through you from the movement. 

“Lunch was catered at work today. My food was mislabeled, I got sent home a few hours ago.” You said miserably, squirming and desperately trying to burrow further to escape the chills. Though that meant you were too warm to be comfortable. Remus cooed sadly at your struggle. 

“I’m so sorry, darling.” He said, smoothing your damp hair from your forehead. “Have you taken anything?”

You shook your head. “When I got back I just laid down.” You knew he would to chide you, but he could see how bad you felt. His mouth was downturned, pressed into a sad line as he took in your state. 

“Are you aching? I’ll get you some paracetamol.” 

You groaned. “I think I’m out.” He ignored you, moving over to his side of the bed. You turned to watch him as he dug through his bottom bedside drawer, fishing out a thermometer and various clattering plastic bottles. He held the reader over your forehead, humming disapprovingly at the beep. 

“37.7.” He sighed, setting the thermometer down on your nightstand. “Have you eaten anything since you got sick, lovely? You can’t have these on an empty stomach.” 

You shook your head, sitting up. “I don’t know if I can handle any food right now.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, gently caressing your jaw and pouting. 

“I can get you some fruit and tea? You don’t need much, just a little something.” When you still looked unsure he sighed, though still eternally patient. “If you don’t have something it’s just going to hurt worse, baby dove.” 

You sighed. “I can try.” You smiled, more for his sake than yours. He kissed your scorching forehead. You pulled away fast, feeling a coughing fit overtake you. Remus cooed and rubbed your back as you struggled. 

“You poor thing, that doesn’t sound very good.” He grabbed the tissue box and covered your mouth for you. You wanted to bat him away and shriek, but you leaned against his chest miserably. 

“I’m sorry I always make you do this.” You muttered. He pulled away, looking at you confused. 

“You make me do… what, exactly?” He still stroked your face and head gently. 

“I’m always sick and you always have to look after me. It’s not fair to-” You couldn’t finish the sentence without coughing again. He let your fit ease before he rebutted.

“You don’t make me do anything. I don’t, and would not, do anything I wouldn't wish to.” He said intense, yet kind. “And it’s hardly your fault, it’s not like this is fair on you either, lovely girl.” 

You sighed. “You didn’t sign up for this.” He looked up thoughtfully for a moment before leaning in close, nearly touching his forehead to yours. 

“I signed up for you. All, of you.” His tone was sweet, but left no room for argument. 

“Thank you.” You mouthed. He smiled, kissing your cheek. 

“I’m going to get you some food.” He said, standing up. “And then you should get some rest.” You resisted the urge to chase him. 

“Will you stay with me?” You asked, hopeful.

“That was never in question.” He kissed your forehead again.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part three

part four: say the one thing i've been wanting

Steve had been dreading actually talking about this with Robin. He hadn't wanted to put her in a position to feel like she had to come out or stop using him as a plus one to industry parties to fuel rumors. Even as he and Eddie pretty publicly dated Robin's agent and most tabloids still thought Robin and Steve were a couple some even going as far as insinuating Eddie was Steve's side piece or their third.

"Steve, you're kind of scaring me, what's going on?"

"Birdie, I'm only telling you this because I can't not anymore but I want you to know nothing is your fault and I literally don't need you to do anything. I just need to be able to talk to my best friend and in order to do that I kind of have to get through this uncomfortable part," Steve answered.

"Anything, Steve. Whatever you need," Robin said.

"Okay, so Eddie and I kind of broke up because Eddie assumed I was cheating on him with Nance when she came to visit earlier this year. He got really upset and kind of blocked me from any way of contacting him so there was no way to clear anything up after he left but he definitely assumed I was cheating on him and he wrote that fucking song and I just need to talk to you without leaving out this really huge massive reason why Eddie left and why I still feel like total shit," Steve rushed to cover the main points.

"Steve, hun," Nance comforted. She probably guessed something else was going on but had been understanding enough not to press Steve for more.

"Steve, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," Robin started catastrophizing.

"Can you please stop saying my name. It's kind of freaking me out," Steve joked, "Robs, it's totally not your fault at all. It was a shitty situation I could have handled better and so could Eddie but there's really nothing to do about it know because I can't explain it to him and he clearly doesn't want me to so we are moving on, all right?" Steve attempted to keep the energy light.

"If that's what you want, sure babe," Robin said.

"I just want to stop going down Tik Tok rabbit holes of Eddie's stupid song without being able to complain to you about how fucking tired I am of not being able to do anything," Steve said, "and also I want so much ice cream and a really stupid TV marathon with my best girls and maybe roast Eddie's new song a little bit."

Nancy had already pulled up doordash and they were soon on their way to eating a smorgasbord of snacks and ice cream while watching reality TV and eventually dissolving into a karaoke session initially overdramatically singing along to Eddie's new single and ending with some old school Taylor (her version of course). Steve was feeling better than he had in a long time and started getting out of the fog he'd been in since Eddie had left.

Eventually, Steve started answering his agent's emails again and submitting tape for different roles. He'd gotten a part in a small indie film in Italy and Steve was pretty ready to take it. It was an interesting part, it was literally away from everyone he knew, the director was kind of weird and didn't let his cast use socials while filming and encouraged only phone calls and old school letters to really get into the period mindset. It was honestly kind of a perfect next project and it helped that the script was actually kind of great.

"As long as you aren't going because you're running away, Steve. You know I don't want you to leave and you shouldn't feel like you have to," Robin said as he was starting to pack his bags.

"I really like the project. It's a good script and I get to get out of my own head for a while. Kind of perfect honestly. The shoot is pretty short its only like four weeks so I won't be gone that long and you and Nancy can keep holing up in my apartment without me getting in the way!" Steve answered.

"You're never in the way, dingus," Robin nudged him and then brought him into a hug, "we'll just miss you kiddo."

"I'll miss you too, Bobbie. Now let me go so I can pack." Steve pulled away with a bigger smile than he'd had in weeks.

part five

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

[deadghosy]

"Have you always been so damn ugly?"

"Hahaha...Fuck you."

PLATONIC ALASTOR X GN!READER

Warning: bit of a small oc.

YOU SIGHED LAYING on your bed tired like always as your counterpart, Neno is beside you purring. His black shadowy body hold you as you face the ceiling. It's not like you are a depressed person who has no social energy battery and stay in your room not wanting to talk to people. Of course you totally aren't like that...

You heard a static noise outside your door, you narrow your eyes seeing a red glow outside your door. "What the fuck..." you say to yourself seeing the glow. Neno opens his white glowing eyes as he lets go of your body and moves swiftly to the door. It seems like he know who it is as you get off your bed and open the door.  And there he is, the radio demon who smiles down at you.

"Why hello my shadowy fellow/madam!" He says entering your room as you tried to protest him entering. "Well this won't do!" He pulls open your curtain windows to let the light in. Neno hisses going into your shadow as your eyebags show. Alastor smiles that shit eating grin as he sits on your bed. "Well? Why don't you sit down my dear friend, we got things to discuss!" You just stand there side eyeing him.

"Have you always been so damn ugly?" Is what you said that came into your mind.

"Hahaha...Fuck you." Alastor says staring at you waving got you to sit with him.

No way in hell are you talking to the radio demon.

—

AND HERE YOU are ranting about how shitty your morning went about how you felt like shit and how you felt no motivation or feelings at all. Alastor just stares and nod with a smile listening to you. You don't even know why you are actually venting to him about. Sometimes with yourself, you have these weird feelings where you can't feel anything but you aren't depressed. You just can't understand some things really.

Alastor stops you from going into deep context as he smiles thinking of something. "Why don't we go for a walk my dear friend!" He says enthusiastic. You just stare at him with a blank stare...."I'm not your frie-" Alastor snaps his fingers as he has you in an outfit that seems a bit old timey. Kinda seems off the way you dressed back in the 2000's but you liked the color palette it has.

Your hair looked better as you smile looking at Neno who gave you a thumbs up with Alastor and his own shadow counterpart. "Okay! Not bad old man." "I am not an old man" he says with a slight twitch in his eye. "Whatever man" you say chuckling softly at him. Next thing you know you go picked up onto alastor's shoulder with a blank confused face as he takes you out your room.

"Now let's go on an adventure. Can't let you rot in your room like some kind of corpse dear!"

—

YOU "WALKED" around pentagram city still on alastor's shoulder as he hums a tune while you just sat there in his shoulder like a little kid leaving sea world/ Disney world with their father.

"Where are we even going Alastor...."

"Somewhere~" he said in a song tune way.

You just sighed as he wasn't even giving you a straight answer. You felt a "bling" in your pocket. That must be your hell phone. You looked at it to see the contact, "BIG BOSS🔥" calling you. You answer him hearing a bunch of quacks and tools hitting the ground.

"Heyyyyy....ducklinggg" you heard Lucifer says awkwardly. "Hello. Sir." You said flatly. Lucifer's silly smile faltered hearing your flat tone as he sighs.

"Listen I'm sorry I didn't order you right the things for you. I was busy." You heard another quack and a squeak.

"Busy making a doll house for your ducks?"

".....low blow but I can send you your favorite pastry!" He says excitedly on his end of the phone.

You stayed quiet this time but smile showing your sharp teeth, "sure man. I'll forgive you." "FANTASTIC! I'll see you in 2 hours!"

"Wait wh-" and the phone hang up.

Why the hell he said he was gonna order them to you, but come in person...

—

NOW YOU WERE confused even more as you reach a part of town you didn't even know. Alastor smiles as you see demons with black eyes like those were cartoons you use to watch back then. But the town seems lovely and lively as you see a person giving out cotton candy.

Your eyes light up, catching the taller male's attention as he smirks turning his walking direction to the cotton candy stand.

"Hello mister, I would like one cotton candy for the little lady/fellow on my beloved shoulder." Alastor said as you felt embarrassed by how some people watched you as you fidget with your fingers. The man nods with a sharp teethed smile and gave Alastor, who gives you your cotton candy.

You smile awkwardly taking the cotton candy from Alastor and ate it. You gotta admit it was tasty as fuck! The candy melted on your tongue and your eyes lit up like shimmering glitter in a summer sun. Alastor smile softly at you and turns to building while you eat. As Alastor enters you heard a ladies voice.

"Yeah, and I would eat my husband too!"

You turn to see a lady who is wearing an old timey fit and she is very tall, slender-built demon with pale gray skin, and a wide mouth full of sharp light pink teeth, black-colored lips and dusty-pink cheeks. Her eyes are pitch-black.

You always liked to look at people sometimes to observe, it's a weird habit of yours at times but you must admit this lady was beautiful.

"Oh Rosie dear!"

"Alastor hon!" The lady says cheery as she walks to Alastor and you. You hopped off of Alastor landing on Neno who held his hand for you to softly get on the ground. The two overlords hug as you finally noticed who she was. She was the one Alastor told you about sometimes.

"Oh and who is this cutie! Aw I could just eat you up!"

"Please don't." You said with an awkward smile as she pinches your cheek like a granny.

She chuckles putting a hand to her face, "oh don't worry, Alastor told me all about you and how such a dearie you are to him at times."

You raised a brow at that. "Really?" You looked at Alastor who seems to be ignoring your gaze as you just scrunched your face up in confusion.

"Why yes! You're the [animal/shadow] demon he was talking about!" She says as she cups her hands in your. Neno watches as he swirls around your body and playful nibbles on Rosie who chuckles. "And this much be your pet!" "Counter part actually.." Rosie had a surprised look as she looks into Neno's eyes which is pure white, opposite from Rosie's own eyes.

"Well isn't that swell..."

(I'm tired so I can't finish the part where you get to hang out with Lucifer again. My head ache and me being drowsy as shit isn't helping. Hope you enjoyed this)