#for I was already wearing boxing gloves

[dollking081]

Florance says hi one note is one punch to his face

[solacedeer]

@judejazza based on your posts threadd

She’s boxin (Jins there so it doesn’t swing too far back and throw her into the sun from inertia alone)

[corvidarcana]

Is Knuckles with Regular Gloves cursed

[yuujispinkhair]

Boxer!Sukuna headcanons

Inspired by this lovely ask. Thank you so much for sending me that and making me lose my mind over Boxer!Sukuna.

Pairing: Boxer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, modern AU, smut, squirting. Mentions of boxing injuries, biting, blood. I know that boxers usually wear a groin protector, but I chose to ignore this for this AU because I wanted to write a sexy detail lol. Sukuna + Reader are in a relationship. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always wants you by his side backstage until it's time for him to enter the arena. You are his good luck charm and the only one who is allowed to wrap the bandages around his hands before he slips into his gloves. Not that he needs any luck with the skills he has, but he loves seeing you press your sweet kisses on his boxing gloves and smile at him before you hug him tightly and tell him to please be careful.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gets a warm feeling in his heart when he sees how worried you always are. Much more nervous before his fights than he is. But he always reassures you, wrapping his muscular tattooed arms tightly around you and hugging you to his firm body while he tells you, "Don't worry, princess. You know I never lose."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who smiles while you help him get dressed before a fight, helping him slip into the white silk kimono he wears for his ring entrance show. He can clear his mind the best when he feels your gentle hands caressing over his broad back.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gives you his most charming smile before he grabs your chin and asks you for a good luck kiss, not just on his boxing gloves but also on his lips.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always tells you he loves you before he leaves the backstage area. And hearing your "I love you, too" in return gives him another surge of motivation.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose ring-entrance show always makes the crowd go wild. The whole arena is bathed in blood-red light. A picture of an ancient shrine in a sea of blood gets projected onto the large screens. Dramatic classical music starts playing as a huge throne of skulls emerges from the fog, with Sukuna lounging casually on it, his head resting on the back of his hand. He's wearing the snow-white kimono and a crown on his pink hair, presenting himself as The King of Curses, which is his stage name.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose stage name fits him perfectly. One look at him and his powerful body and that dangerous and ambitious glint in his eyes, and everyone knows this guy is truly a King in the boxing ring.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gracefully walks towards the ring with an arrogant look on his tattooed face, only accompanied by his assistant Uraume, who walks a few steps behind him as if they are a loyal shrine servant who follows their master obediently. They take off Sukuna's kimono for him and bow respectfully while the crowd cheers loudly.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks intimidating but beautiful as he stands there with a posture like a God while the white silk slips off his broad shoulders and reveals all the firm muscles and the sexy tattoos on his tall, athletic body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who drops his serious act the moment he climbs into the ring and instead smirks his most charming smirk and lifts a hand to casually wave at his fans, letting them celebrate him as if he already won.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose last glance before every match belongs to you, though. As much as he enjoys the attention and worship from his fans, he always loves your gaze on him the most. You are the one who grounds him before a fight, the one who gives him the strength and the right mindset to lead him to victory.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes look directly into yours while he kisses his boxing gloves, at the same spot where your lips left their kisses a few minutes ago backstage. And right before he turns around to face the referee and his opponent, he winks at you and mouths, "I'll win this fight for you, baby".

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who already mocks his opponent before the fight even starts. Smiling tauntingly at him and asking him if he is scared. "You know, you can still run, little boy."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy during his fights. All of his attacks are powerful and well-planned. He moves gracefully through the ring, like a big cat on the prowl, beautiful and deadly. Everyone can see that he isn't someone who just relies on his brute strength. Sukuna is intelligent, and he uses his mind to win his fights.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is both hated and loved by the judges. They hate how cocky he is but admire his skills and respect him for how well-prepared he is for his matches.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wins most of his fights with a knockout, laughing triumphantly when the referee counts down the seconds.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who only loses fights when he gets disqualified for committing a foul. Sometimes, he bites his opponents, drawing blood with his sharp teeth and laughing as he licks the blood off his lips. You know that this is also part of Sukuna's strategy. He is too controlled to let himself get carried away during a fight, but he loves the reputation those bloody attacks give him, basking in the fear he sees in his opponents' eyes when he whispers to them before a fight, "Did you see the guy I bit last month? Let's see how your blood tastes on my tongue."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is brilliant at blocking punches but also cannot be stopped if he gets hit. You used to be worried sick when you saw him receiving blows to the head until Sukuna reassured you that he is allowing it on purpose. It's all for the show. And sometimes, because he craves the pain since, it will spur him on even more.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who laughs after every punch his opponent lands, smirking cat-like as he licks the blood off his cracked lip, and his wild maroon eyes glitter amusedly at the other guy: "Aww, was that all you can do, brat? Gimme more, come on! Punch me! Make me bleed for real, you coward!"

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy with his tattooed skin all sweaty, every muscle in his tall, strong body taut. His veins standing out, and his broad chest rising and sinking as he breathes deeply. The outline of his long, thick cock visible through his dark red boxing shorts, making you want him so much.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wears a sexy smirk on his beautiful tattooed face when he gets declared winner. He looks deeply into your eyes when the referee yanks his hand into the air to signal his win. This first moment is always for you alone, mesmerizing maroon eyes silently telling you that Sukuna dedicates this win to you.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who then punches his fist into the air and does a little round in the ring to let the crowd celebrate him like the King that he is. He is a professional, giving his fans what they crave, even while he craves something very different at that moment after a match.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who expects you to wait for him in his private locker room backstage, naked and wet, with your legs spread, ready to get taken by him.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who takes you rough and hard. He needs to fuck you to come down again after being so pumped up during his fight. His tall, muscular body is still dripping with sweat, smelling so sexy, a mix of sweat and musk and his expensive cologne. His breath is loud and harsh in your ear, turning into low, hoarse groans as he pounds your cunt with his cock and his heavy balls, just like he pounded his opponent with his fists.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who rubs your swollen clit firmly and whispers dirty things in your ear, making sure you give him your everything and squirt all over him when you cum on his fat cock.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who coos at you and calls you his good girl, his love, as he chases his own orgasm, finally allowing himself to let go, fucking you with hard erratic thrusts, his face buried in your neck, moaning loudly until he captures your lips in a heated kiss when he shoots his hot cum into your cunt.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who cuddles you afterward, pressing himself tightly against you while he is still buried balls-deep inside you, resting his forehead against yours and thanking you for being his lucky charm and the one who gives him strength. He stays like that, pressing you down with his heavy body, kissing you tenderly until his breathing finally calms down and the sweat on his body begins to dry.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who picks you up and murmurs to you, "Hold on to me, princess," before he carries you to the shower, not letting go of you even for a second, needing his princess on his cock and in his arms.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who showers with you and lets you wash him, sighing when you massage shower gel into his taut muscles, caressing him, and cleaning him, easing the tension in his body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who returns the favor and lets his large, calloused hands wander gently over your naked and soaped-up body while he kisses you nonstop. Who caresses another orgasm out of you while you stroke his long thick cock slowly, making him spill his seed all over your hand.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who isn't the famous boxer, The King of Curses, anymore, when he is here under the shower with you. Here he is just Sukuna, your fiancé, who is joking around with you, all playful again, grinning that sexy grin and kissing you so sweetly, whispering against your skin how much you mean to him, and asking you where you want to have a late dinner tonight.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who fucks you once more, this time against the shower wall with your legs wrapped tightly around his hips and your hands in his pink hair. But this time, it is slow, sensual lovemaking. Slow, deep thrusts and tender French kisses until you both find completion at the same time and moan into each other's mouth. The perfect finish for a successful match.

HE IS SO SEXY 😭😭 I didn't know I would write so much for Boxer!Sukuna, but I enjoyed it so much to think of his dramatic ring-entrance show and the way he boxes, etc. I hope you enjoyed it too!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[bi-writes]

Your MOB au gives me so many butterflies 🥴 I hear the key to a long and happy marriage is to be with someone you think is funny. How do you think Simon and his wife make each other laugh? I can see them being the couple that gossips while people watching or MOB wrangles Simon in bed to show him funny cat videos on her phone.

mail-order bride

simon likes spending time with you without screens. he does love watching a movie with you, but one of his favorite ways to spend time with you is to open a little closet of board games and play one of them with you. he'll put on a little music, spread out the game, and you usually spend the evening sitting in his lap and playing either on the couch or on the floor using the coffee table or at the dining table.

"simon, what would you do if i was a worm?"

simon raises a brow, fitting a corner piece of the puzzle into place. he snorts a bit.

"wot are y'on, love?"

"i'm serious!" you laugh. "what would you do if i was a worm?"

"step on you, baby. you'd be a fuckin' worm. gross."

you pout a little, dramatically, and simon winks at you.

"olright, love. i'd put ya in a little box and cherish ya foreva. tha' wot y'wanna hear?"

you giggle, settling in his lap, picking up an edge piece and putting it in its spot.

"yeah. that's what i wanna hear."

"simon, look."

you hold out your phone in bed, shoving it in his face. he grunts a little, squinting at the bright screen, and he raises a brow as he watches a compilation of orange cat videos put together. he chuckles a little when he sees it, leaning over the bed and planting a kiss on your cheek. he rolls over onto his side, curling a big arm around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. he tucks his face over your shoulder, leaning over you, and you spend the better part of an hour giggling to yourself as you show simon the collection of videos on your feed.

the next morning, your phone pings while simon is away on base. you hurry out of the kitchen, wiping your floury hands on the apron you wear before seeing a request for a new follower.

you open the app, raising a brow when you look at the account without a profile picture asking to follow your private account.

pumpkin__eater141 wants to follow you.

you click on the profile, rolling your eyes when you see the only picture on the account a very grainy, filtered photo of two sergeants sticking their tongues out and holding up bunny ears behind each other. in the background, very blurry, you can see a glimpse of a skeleton-bone painted glove holding up a middle finger. the caption reads wankerzzz!!!!

the account has 1 follower (sudz_n_budz141), and it follows none, and you can't help but smile when you see the profile has nothing but a cherry emoji as the description.

you accept the follow request, and you follow them back. the whole day, every so often, you get a new video as a direct message. when you finish with the sourdough and leave it to rise, you start to scroll through the intermittent messages you've already gotten.

more cat videos. crazy dashcam footage with the comment "fuckin' mad." some woman who makes crockpot meals with every kind of bagged cheese you can get at the store on high for five hours.

you can't stop smiling. and when you pull out a pot to make dinner later, you and simon make eye contact before laughing.

"olright, baby, which one ya want?" simon murmurs, nuzzling his mask against your cheek. you giggle, looking up at the display. there's stuffed bears, big squishmallows, pillows. you reach a hand up behind you and caress the back of his neck, biting your lip until you point up at the big cherry squishmallow hanging by the top.

"gotta hit all the glasses to get that one, mate," the attendant says, and you look over your shoulder up at him.

"ooooo...not sure if you can hit all your targets, lieutenant riley?" you ask, and simon snorts, kissing your jaw through the mask before making his way towards the game counter. he picks up the toy rifle, adjusting it in his grip before holding the sight up and taking his stance. you bite your lip watching him. he looks incredibly sexy with that thing in his arms, even if its a fake. it's even sexier hearing the bell ring and watching your husband with terrifying precision knock every glass bottle down. one after the other, each glass falls, and you squeeze your legs together slightly as he goes for a bonus round and knocks them all over again, even quicker.

he turns around when he has your prize in his hands, a big fluffy cherry with a little smile and a little green leaf hat. you squeeze it to your chest before standing on your toes, and simon leans down to peck your lips through the mask. he wraps a big arm around your waist, and when you both pull back, you can't help your big smile, the laughter, that sweet, pretty shine in your eyes.

simon laughs, too.

it's easy when you're this happy.

[charliemwrites]

There are men across the street.

The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.

But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.

You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.

You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.

Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.

She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.

It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.

The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.

You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.

You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.

The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.

“Excuse.”

You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.

What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.

“Hi,” you say, straightening.

He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.

“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.

You blink, surprised and confused.

He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.

But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.

“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”

The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.

Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.

“This is Guy.”

You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.

“Guy?” he asks.

“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”

You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.

“He is a little guy,” the man muses.

Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.

“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.

The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.

“What are their names?”

You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”

A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.

“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”

You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”

“Yes, the short one.”

You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.

“Does he know you call him that?”

“Not if you don’t tell him.”

You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.

Someone’s at the door.

You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.

Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.

You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.

You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.

“Morning,” you chime.

“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.

“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”

He grunts. “Work.”

And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.

“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”

“No.”

You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.

“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”

You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.

You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”

He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”

Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.

“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.

“So! The truck - when will it be here?”

“Noon.”

“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.

You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.

The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.

You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.

You blink and abandon the dishes for later.

The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.

You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.

You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?

“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.

You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.

You yawn. “Mhmm.”

He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.

“It is late.”

“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.

“The sun is up.”

“So what?”

He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.

“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”

You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”

Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”

Well shit.

Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.

Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.

Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.

You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.

At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.

It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.

“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”

His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.

“The cat comes too.”

Cat?

You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.

He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.

There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.

You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.

The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.

The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.

Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.

“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.

“Why?” he asks.

You shrug. “To be nice.”

He stares. You blink back.

“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”

Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.

To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.

“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”

The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.

“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.

That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.

“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”

He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.

“Nikto,” he rasps finally.

You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.

“You,” Krueger says.

You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”

“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.

“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”

He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.

“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.

“No problem,” you answer, smiling.

Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)

“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”

“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.

“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.

“We will handle it,” Krueger says.

“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”

You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.

“Huh,” you say, surprised.

Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”

You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”

That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.

“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.

Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.

“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.

Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.

Next

Masterlist

[fictionalmenxyn]

🝊𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫🝊

Pairing: cop!rafe x reader

Warnings: language and suggestive

🝊🝊🝊

You were on your way home, yes, you may have been going a few numbers over the limit. It was a 55 and you were going 60, not too bad. But you saw the famous red and blue lights flash along with the ‘woop woop’ of the sirens.

You mentally smacked yourself, also rolling your eyes at the slight fact the cop was being over dramatic. You indicated and pulled over.

You roll down your window, reaching over into the glove box grabbing your license and registration. You put them in your lap as you waited for the officer to walk over.

You see the figure, through the side mirror walking over. You double check over the things in your lap. The officer spoke “hey sweetheart”

You head whipped to the side to look out the window. Seeing Rafe “Rafe?! The fuck are you doing pulling me over??” He grinned. His thumbs tucked into his tactical vest “someone was goin’ over the limit, baby.” You roll your eyes “you do the exact same and you’re a cop” he chuckled “I know, I just saw your plate and wanted to see you, while I’m on shift.” You nodded “touché… so officer? Any big things happen today??”

He leans down so he can talk to you better “hmm not much, few speeding, one dui… you know, the usual…” you nod. “And do officers take a kiss as an apology for going over five above the limit?” He smirked “hmm for now, yeah, officer Cameron would take that as a temporary apology…” you rolled your eyes. You lean out of the window and give him a peck. “Not good enough, sweet girl.” “What?!” “You heard…” “babe…” Rafe grinned “not babe, its officer, right now”

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. “Alright, officer…” you give him and another kiss. This time a proper and longer one. He pulled away “thank you” he stood straight again. He glanced to the road then to you. His thumbs still tucked into the armpit of the tactical vest. “You’re lucky you’re cute, I’m lettin’ ya off this time, no ticket for you pretty girl…” you look up at him. “Bullshit, you just don’t wanna do the paperwork.” You grin as he chuckles and shake his head “I like your logic, babe…” you smile “thank you…”

“That doesn’t mean you’re getting away with it when I get home…” “gonna need to teach you a lesson on how you shouldn’t sass the officer…I saw the eye rolls, can’t hide it from me, sweetheart” you blush slightly. “You can’t hide that blushin’ either…”

A voice over the radio speaks, Rafe looks back to you. Quickly leaning down and pressing two quick kisses to your soft lips. “Gotta go, see you later, I love you” you smiled “I love you too, go get those bad guys.” You smirk as he playfully rolled his eyes.

As he walks away, he calls out “don’t forget I’m not done with you, baby!” You chuckle as you start your car up again.

You watch as he drives off, sirens and lights beaming. He speeds off, going to god knows what incident. You smile, you loved seeing him all geared up and in uniform. It did things to you, especially when he wore it while getting you ready for some fun. Or when he lets you wear his training clothes. Like his ‘OBX PD’ training tee. Or the sweatpants, he liked you lost in the shorts though.

You couldn’t wait for him to get home to you. If it wasn’t illegal to actually speed. You’d do it more just for him to pull you over. The half-assed stern look he’d give you for going over just a little bit. Or when the one time you did a quick break at an empty junction. You only did a quick stop at the ‘stop’ sign because no one was there. So you didn’t think you needed to stop and wait a few seconds. He taught you a good lesson on that one…

You were already in bed, wearing only his PD tee when he got home. Dropping his bags to the floor and taking off his heavy tactical vest. Kicking his boots off as he crawled into bed and on top of you.

He kissed you like he hasn’t seen you in weeks. Your tongues clashing. He moves down your jaw and marks up your neck. Then he moves up your neck and to your ear. He whispers “I still haven’t taught you a lesson about speeding have I?” You gasp as his knee goes between your legs. He smirked “words” “no, officer…” he smirked “you look so good in my tee baby..” he smashes his lips against yours.

And the night was only just beginning…

🝊🝊🝊

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Im an ace simp unashamedly and i need to share this little detail of heartslabyul's birthday boy card that someone probably mentioned alr somewhere. In all the boys' groovy illustrations theres always someone else with them. Riddle has cater and trey, Trey has cater. Cater has ace and Deuce has someone in the corner (i cant tell who)

EXCEPT ACE???? BRO'S JUST STARING INTO THE CAMERA WITH THAT SILLY LITTLE BLUSH LIKE BRO YOU LOOKING AT ME???? WHAT ARE YOU TRYNNA TELL ME TWST????

cbjsvsjsjcks Where did all the Ace simps suddenly spawn from… I feel like I’ve been meeting a lot of them lately (not necessarily through this blog, but also in other discussion circles) 😂

Yes, the Birthday Boy series tends to generally showcase at least one other character in the Groovies. For Heartslabyul: Cater and Trey appear in Riddle’s, Trey appears in Cater’s, and I believe it’s Ace in Deuce’s.

That isn’t Trey because Trey wears gloves in his dorm uniform, and nor can it be Riddle because his dorm uniform looks entirely different than the standard one. That leaves us with Cater and Ace. By process of elimination and using context clues, it’s most likely Ace. Cater already appeared in two other Birthday Boy Groovies. Additionally, Deuce has a voice line where he says Ace gifted him a jack-in-the-box—and while the Groovy doesn’t depict that item, Deuce is reacting similarly shocked upon opening it. Ace has also explained (I think in a Halloween event or vignette??) that it is possible to pull off a simple trick of flashing lights and sounds using magic. He tends to use his skills for childish things like little pranks and sleights, and has the personality to be inclined towards those things too. All the circumstantial evidence points to Ace.

Anyway, I feel like Ace is one of those characters you commonly see getting shipped with Yuu because of how he is presented in official content (and especially the main story). Him and Malleus seem to be the Big Two on that regard. That’s what my observation has always been, at least.

It’s rare that TWST will put out these “looking directly at you” illustrations, and even when they do, it’s not always aimed at Yuu if you look at the context the vignettes provide. For example, the Jade Outdoor Wear Groovy has him looking back and offering a hand… but it’s not for Yuu, it’s for Cater; Floyd’s Beans Camo Groovy had him looking soft and cute… and that gaze is aimed at Epel while Floyd talks about how he wants to take on strong opponents. Ace’s Birthday Boy Groovy exists in defiance of that pattern!

I think it’s funny that his dynamic with Yuu can so easily feed into that trope of the BFF that’s crushing hard but is too afraid to fully commit, so he always frames advances/flirting/playful teasing as “just jokes” to test the waters. It almost feels like Ace was tailor-made for this 😂 It sets up a lot the potential for something as simple as a look seeming longing. I can definitely understand how someone might see that Groovy and think it’s romantic. I don’t think most people make that kind of expression while using the thumb to brush away crumbs and staring into the camera 💀 Bro would 100% catch you and then go, “I know, I know, I look so cool that you just can’t get enough of me. Well, today’s my special day so I’m feeling extra nice. Feel free to stare at me aaaaaall you like, Prefect.” And then maybe joke that you could have him all to yourself if you asked—

You Ace yumes out there must be thankful for this food www

[artsninspo]

"CHEERS 🥂 "- RIO X READER

Summary: Rio's planned date night. Finally, you get a front row seat to who he is and a taste of what he's capable of. This one's steamy 🌶️

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Black Reader

Word-Count: 2.5K

Full Masterlist

RIO MASTERLIST

Read the first three parts of this Rio miniseries:

“Baby-Girl”

“Whisky, neat”

"Jealous Type"

Rio’s been applying pressure. A quality you enjoy in a man. He’s been a great communicator, texting and FaceTiming you when he’s free for the past four days. His cool demeanour is never ending. Neither are the lazy promises about what’s awaiting you the next time you see him in person. After that kiss you know it’ll be good, straight to the point, signed, sealed, delivered - sincerely Rio. In the past few days you’ve come to appreciate him. There were no forever promises snapping you out of the thrill of the here and now with him.

8:30 Sharp. Don’t play with me either baby girl. 

-Rio 

 The way he’s asserted himself leaves little room for anyone else to be entertained. He’s a handful. It’s the last message he’s sent you hours ago now. Clad in your robe you turn to face your closet. Your hair and make up is what it is already. Now onto the conundrum of what to wear? Did it really even matter? Swallowing you walk from the nudes to the colourful section of the closet. Pausing you shake your head with a finger to your lips turning around to the blacks. You don’t want to clash with him, you want to blend in to his low-key air. You don’t want to do too much at all. You skim over dresses better suited for wow factor and settle on one that will do the trick. Accessories are easy and you choose simple ones that flatter your dress. With a final turn you look yourself over. It gives calm cool and collected, simple, not too fussy. Checking your watch you see you have thirty minutes until Rio arrives. You ensure your necessities are in your purse before spraying perfume.

The thrumming in your chest is a pleasant reminder of wants to come. You don’t remember a time outside of adolescence where someone had this kind of effect on you. Only this time you aren’t sneaking out of the house, you’re ignoring your brothers warnings. Deciding against games or grand entrances you head down to the lobby to be on time and step out five minutes early to see Rio in the parking lot of your condo leaning against his G-Wagon giving his phone his undivided attention. You're halfway to him when he senses you. You smile first allowing his raised brows and caution to settle into a pleased smile.

“Who were we texting?” You ask making him chuckle. His eyes drink you in making their way up slowly before he looks displeased. His jaw settles and when his eyes meet yours again he looks angry.

“Don’t disrespect me with this simple shit. I know you have way better up there” he comments acutely. There’s little to be said about his choice of clothing, nor are you his personal barbie.

“Didn’t think it mattered when you’re just going to take it off me?” You shrug leaning against his car to match his nonchalance. His frustration fades quickly and Rio doesn’t know exactly what to do with you. He tries his best not to smile as you snicker. He gets the door helping you in. When he gets in he reaches in the glove box and takes out a jewelry bag handing it to you.

“Instead of flowers” he says. You open it to see a pretty tennis bracelet. It’s definitely a first.

“Much better than flowers, a consolation for your asshole remark just now” you tell him holding out your wrist. He takes the bracelet putting it on and you admire the shine.

“You not going to accuse me of buying you fake diamonds? No smart remark?” He asks pulling off.

“It’s no fun when you expect it” you shrug leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Thanks”

Rio turns reaching for your chin he takes it between his thumb and index finger to kiss you properly, claiming you as his for the moment. “You’re welcome” he says having given you two reasons to smile tonight..

Your dinner is on the water, just the two of you on a nice boat sailing around the cities skyline at night. Each of the dinner courses are delicious and conversation with Rio is easy so long as the conversations float over the personal. He keeps his guard up setting a clear boundary you're comfortable respecting. He gives you his jacket when you shiver playing the role of a gentleman well. You feel none of the first date jitters or dread, it’s like you’ve known Rio for some time. He’s meticulous in having things perfect for you. You don’t get the sense he’s showing off but more like he’s a stickler for order and satisfaction which bodes well for you later. Away from the dinner table and rnow outside on the deck you pour two shots of tequila.

“Truth or drink?” You say raising the glass and taking a shot for good measure. Rio throws one back nodding - ready for whatever. He opens the bottle pouring out another two shots.

“When’s the last time a man made you cum?” He asks being the forward asshole he is.

“Awhile” you respond evasively.

“A few months or a few years?” He asks.

“Months, now I get two questions” you tell him.

“Go on baby-girl” he says like he’s talking you through it leaving you to blush because he is hell.

“Why doesn’t my brother like you?” you ask and he grimaces; it’s a surprise. In Rio’s mind there are too many reasons to name. Reasons that’ll have you off the boat and ironing his calls.

“That’s between us, nothing to do with you” he responds taking a sip.

“If the roles were reversed would you want your sister sitting where I am?” You ask and Rio smiles, you know the answer before it leaves his lips.

“No” he confirms. “What to you like most about me?” Rio asks and it’s a surprise to you. His confidence makes the question seem a little out of place. Racking through your brain you try to narrow it down. There are more physically attractive guys, taller guys, richer guys, better dressed guys… Losing yourself in your thoughts you look back at him looking him over.

“I don’t know, that you have yourself together and you’re not afraid to put in work.” you shrug surprising him.

“What do you do for fun, hobby wise?” You ask.

“You don’t want to know what I like about you?” Rio asks.

“No” you tell him outright and he laughs.

“Boxing, helps me put the stress away” he responds and you feel the boats engines stop. Turning you realize you’re back at the dock and turn to find Rio watching you intently.

“Don’t kill the fun now by falling in love” you tease getting your bag.

“You’d fall first baby-girl” he taunts smoothly.

“Not likely” you comment heading off of the boat.

“Not likely?” he chuckles like it’s a first. “Keep playing with me.”

“Or what? I’ll probably like whatever punishment you can think of,” you shrug being forward turning back you see a blush on his cheeks as he smiles. You stop walking to let him catch up and find him chuckling a little like he’s broken character.

“Most likely, if I’m nice” Rio says into your ear as he holds you from behind. Chuckling you allow him to lead the way forward to his car. His cologne is perfect, the entire night has been perfect.

“Don’t call me unless you’re being nice” you respond.

“Mhm?” Rio raises a brow as he gets in.

“I thought you might like me being mean?”

“No, I don’t intend to underestimate what that means. Not my kind of surprise” you shrug looking over at him and his smile turns into contemplation. There you were right again. He’d passed curiosity, the cat and mouse was over and now he was considering your words a valid warning. Having a son and family were enough of a liability in his work. Things with you could get complicated especially with his involvement with Ruby and Stan. The pussy will be good; that Rio is for certain but now’s not the time he needs to be spending wide open chasing his next hit or the next thrill. He already knows you don’t know how to behave, taming you won’t be as fun as coming in and shutting shit down every time. For now there was a very clear scheduling conflict as well as ethical concerns.

Besides, Rio can’t quite decide your type of crazy yet. One round won’t suffice and after a few … would you slash his tires for his involvement with Stan and Ruby? Would you ignore him or worse? He could see the promise of mutually assured devastation in your eyes should you have to go head to head.

“Second thoughts, wow. Didn’t think Mr. Christopher would bitch out first” you taunt.

Fuck it

Rio mutters leaning over to kiss you. It’s not what you expect. The switch from contemplative to sensual heats your body in an instant. Unbridled passion, no time for logic.

Its on.

You can feel the seat going back and steady Rio as he maneuvers the seat flat not letting up. His tongue spelling promise of his other talents. Better than in the bathroom. You feel your body relaxing into it, the sensations rushing to your core as it readies itself in anticipation of pleasure. His hands run featherlight touches up your legs before lifting them to wrap around his torso.

It’s a first, sex in a car.

The thought of it flushes you sending goosebumps to cover your flesh. You feel pliable under his touch as he takes the lead. “Quiet now huh?” His voice is low as he peppers kisses on your neck. Before you can speak you feel him pressing into you and a moan of pleasure is your response. “Doesn’t feel like you’re the whore you pretend to be” he whispers enjoying the grip on his fingers.

“Shut up” you moan before your eyes close he comes in for another kiss that is messier an more frenzied. The nights foreplay has come to an end. Honestly there had been other plans but there was no way either of you were doing anything other than getting what you came for. His size is impressive and leaves you reeling to catch your breath as he uses technique that tells he’s no novice. He hits all of the right spots leaving you a pillow princess as he gives and takes until you're both sated and breathing hard. He slides off the condom leaning back and you smile seeing the fogged glasses until flashing lights snap you out of the fantasy. A knock Rio’s glass startles the both of you as a figure peers in. Instinct makes Rio shield your indisposed body from view. It’s a frenzied rush to cover yourself and Rio manages to put his dick away.

The cop demands you to get out of the car and you both do. Rio makes no effort to hurry, his aura reeks disgust and impatience. So much so that there’s no charming your way out of a seriously tacky potential charge. You rage silently as you’re cuffed and placed in the back of the cop car with Christopher.

“Bonnie and Clyde huh?” Rio whispers earning him an elbow. Rio chuckles not understanding the gravity the situation or your embarrassment.  “Relax, love I have a few more rounds in me” he continues ready for more as you seethe by his side. The precinct is lit in tacky fluorescent lighting that is jarring on the eyes after a night of warm romantic hues. All eyes are on you and so is the chatter. Your stomach falls in your ass the moment you realize Stan was once one of them.

“Would you like your phone call or do we head outback and you take care of me like you did him?” A portly cop propositions.

“Fuck did you just say?” Rio snaps finished with his call. Cops pop their heads up and the phone rings.

“Buddy don’t try to look tough for the girl” the pig says balling his fists.

“Stop!” A female cop says popping her head up holding a phone. “Stop now and let them go” she demands and there is some shuffling as the phone is passed around. Rio waits impatiently seemingly bored by the process until the cuffs are removed from his wrists and then your’s. The look he gives the dirty cop makes you nervous for the mans well being as he takes your hand walking you out. You stop now feeling the gravity of it. A man who can fuck like him and stay that cool under pressure is dangerous. A man cops tread lightly with is something else entirely. The big leagues, very major. Looking up at him you curse yourself knowing the date and any romance between you is done. For the first time your brothers protective instinct really was trying to shield you from serious trouble. The part of your brain that loves a thrill is ready to fight against it but you stand firm. Instead of making a scene you re enter the car once the two of you are returned to the marina with profuse apologies. Reveries of how he felt wash over you, the feeling of being kissed and the fresh memories dance around your mind. You don’t have to ask - Rio drives you home and parks in your parking lot.

This time the silence between you both is thick once the engine shuts off. Its like all the progress and familiarity has been washed away in spite of you still being able to feel the effects of him on your body.

“I’m sorry, I planned to take you to my place. Everything will be wiped your record and reputation will be fine” he says speaking first. Everything about him screamed he wasn’t fond of apologies. Turning you see his eyes are sincere and you swallow letting your seatbelt loose.

“Rio...”

“Don’t say it” he smiles looking down into his hands. “Don’t say it baby girl” he sighs holding your gaze. You want to invite him up and ride him till your frustration fades. You want rounds two three and four if your bodies can take it but for once your head is resigned against the thrill.

“I had fun” you admit earning a disappointed nod from Rio. He gets out of his car with you and heads into the trunk and walks towards you with a large bottle of Ace of Spades champagne.

“Cheers” he says bidding you goodbye with Champagne what was supposed to kick off the fun in his hand. Looking up at him as the gold bottle sparkles along with the newly gifted bracelet in the light you look at the forbidden fruits contemplating a few more rounds or if you plan to kick the habit cold turkey.

“Cheers” you respond with a smile.

_________

Author's Note: Thank you for all your support and patience on this series. It means more than you know. I love writing for character I feel like we should have got more of. Hope you enjoyed, leave a comment, like and reblog to let me know 💖

[melodeebarnes]

"Of course, I noticed"

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It's your first Christmas with the Avengers, and you're nervous. Not everyone is big on the idea of a new teammate. They haven't been very good at remembering to include you. However, someone you least expected remembered.

Notes from Author: This is my first thing to write on here, and first written out fanfic ever. So, not sure how I feel about this. I started writing this at 2AM. So, we'll see.

*No mention of y/n*

It's currently 7:45AM, and you've just finished up wrapping the present you picked out for Wanda. You want to make sure everything is perfect.

It's you're first Christmas living in the compound and what happens today could determine how everyone thinks about you. You may be overreacting a bit...but what if you're not? Either way, your nerves are at their peak.

You take a deep breath, and grab all of the gifts you bought for everyone. You head down to the main living area, which holds the biggest Christmas tree in the compound. You delicately place each present underneath it, next to the other ones.

You follow the aroma of fresh hot coffee into the kitchen. You pass Wanda, who's flipping a pancake, humming to the Christmas music sounding from F.R.I.D.A.Y.

You grab your favorite mug, and quickly turn, eager for the first sip of coffee. Thankfully you got here just in time, as there isn't much left. You pour the rest of the steamy hot goodness into your cup.

You quickly doll in up, a little bit of cream, and a little bit of sugar. Just the way you like it. You take the first sip, and it's perfec-

"You've got to be kidding me." Bucky groans, causing everyone to turn their attention to him. Though, his eyes seem to be on you. "You just HAD to take the last of the coffee?"

Bucky. He's the person you knew you'd have the most trouble with today. He has never been fond of you. You thought he just needed some time to warm up to you, but even after months he still hates you. He made up his mind about you the first day, and won't change it.

"I'm sorry, there wasn't much left." You explain.

He scoffs, "So you think you can just come in here and take it? You have no right to-"

"Hey! What's the rule?" Wanda interrupts, immediately shutting him up. "No arguing on Christmas morning," she reminds.

He huffs out a sigh, glaring at you. "Whatever." He mutters.

"Here, I'll make another pot." Steve offers, being the peacemaker, he is. He looks back at you, giving a friendly smile.

Everyone sits down, eating their breakfast. There's a bit of banter between the group, but you just sit and listen. They're clearly more familiar with each other than they are with you.

They haven't made much effort to get to know you on a personal level, so you chose not to force it.

Tony walks in into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bacon from the plate. "Alright, now that I'm here we can start the real meaning of the gracious holiday."

You follow behind everyone to the black velvet couches and sit in the in the empty spot on the corner. Natasha passes out everyone's gifts to their recipient.

As you watch each gift get passed out, you notice how few of gifts you have, compared to everyone else. You have two gifts, one from Steve, and one with no name.

"Sorry, we're not used to you being here for Christmas." Bruce shrugs.

"Oh, no. It's fine. I totally understand" You try to hide the disappointment behind a smile, but there's no hiding the sadness' in your eyes. Though, no one cares enough to notice.

You try to brush it off and open the gifts you do have. Inside the gift from Steve is new training gloves. Your old ones were already beginning to wear out, your thankful to have new ones.

"Thank you, Steve."

"My pleaser." He smiles, warmly.

The second gift with no name, is a small box with a poorly tied bow. You sigh at the lack of effort. When you open it, you see a necklace with a diamond incrusted butterfly charm. It's the same one you saw at an antique store you went to when everyone was out shopping on a day off.

You figured no one was paying attention, but clearly someone was. "Wait, who is this from?" You ask, gently holding up the necklace.

Everyone either shrugs, or looks around looking for an answer to the same question.

"Well whoever it was, thank you so much." You're unable to stop smiling. You admire the beauty of the necklace.

A few hours later, you're back up in your room. You decided to leave the celebration early because you felt left out. It just seemed like it'd be best for everyone.

However, the sound of a knock, echos off your door.

"Who is it?" You raise your voice, in order for them to hear you. When there's no answer, you sigh getting up. You slowly open to door, to see Bucky standing on the other side, hands in pockets, and eyes avoiding yours.

"Uhm...may I help you?" You ask, confused.

"I just came to tell you, we're doing our annual Christmas movie night, in case you wanted to join." He mutters, looking off to the side.

"Trust me, no one wants me there."

"That's not tru-" He cuts himself off.

You furrow your brow, "What?" you ask.

"Did you not like the gift?" He asks, now looking at your neck, still bare with no jewelry.

"No, I loved it I just-" you got yourself off, suddenly putting the puzzle pieces together. "Wait, that was from you?" You question, taken aback.

"Uhm..yeah." He mutters.

"Why didn't you put a name on it?" You feel confused. Why would, Bucky, of all people be the one to get you the meaningful gift.

"Well, usually everyone can tell by the wrapping." He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm not the best at it, but I swear I try."

"Well, that is what matters." You laugh. "Wait, but how did you know?"

"When we were all out shopping, I saw the way your face lit up when you saw the necklace." He explains. "So, I assumed it'd be the perfect gift for you."

"I can't believe you noticed that."

"Of course, I noticed." He smiles at you for the first time ever.

You can't lie, seeing him smile did abrupt a few stray butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you, it must've cost a fortune."

He shakes his head. "The price isn't what matters. It's the thought that goes into the gift."

"I never thought I'd hear that coming out of your mouth." You laugh.

"Yeah, and if you tell anyone I'm gonna have to kill you." He jokes.

"Can't ruin your big bad wolf reputation, right?"

"Hey, it's white wolf." He corrects.

You put your hands up in defense. "My apologies."

"Wait, so why aren't you wearing the necklace?" He asks.

"I'm not great at putting on necklaces, and I didn't want to break or mess it up." You explain.

He nods in understanding, "Would you like me to help?" He asks.

"Sure, I would love your help." You smile, opening the door wide, inviting him inside.

He hesitantly walks in, immediately spotting the gift sitting in the poorly wrapped box. You smile, delicately taking it out and handing it to him. You turn around, watching him through the mirror.

He uses his flesh hand to gently brushes your hair out of the way, sending shivers down your spine. He brings the beautiful necklace in front of you, and you lift your hair up out while he clasps the chain.

You let your hair fall, but you both stand silently looking in the mirror. Suddenly he ends the silence by clearing his throat.

"It's beautiful, Bucky. Thank you."

"Call me Buck." He smiles, again.

"Really? But I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you. Sometimes I'm just not great with new recruits, and I don't handle it the proper way." He looks away, embarrassed by the way he's been acting. "And I'm sorry for treating you so poorly these past few months."

"It's okay." You smile.

"Now come on, lets go down for movie night." He begins to walk out.

"But they probably don't want me there." You say.

"If they have anything to say, they'll have to deal with me." He warns. "Between me and you, they're all a little if not extremely scared of me." He laughs.

"Well then, this should be good." You smile, and follow him out.

[vivwritesfics]

Christmas Sweater

Y/N learns to Knit. Daniel loves it (so fucking much)

Masterlist

"Happy November first!" Daniel Ricciardo cheered as he came down to his living room on the morning of November first.

It had been a weird morning already. Danny had woken up alone, something he wasn't used to. And, if he did wake up alone, Y/N was usually in the bathroom. Not this time. His girlfriend was nowhere to be seen.

So, he made his way downstairs. When he heard the television on, things in his head clicked into place. She'd gotten up early and gone downstairs to watch television, of course.

But then Daniel walked into the room and properly looked at what Y/N was doing. She sat on the couch with two thick knitting needles in her hands and yarn on the floor in from of her. Some of the yarn was a lovely dark red, some was white and some was dark green. "What are you doing?"

As far as Daniel was aware, his girlfriend had no idea how to knit. He didn't even know she had knitting needles. But she sat on the couch, knitting away, the two needles clacking together as she went. Her brow was furrowed and her tongue was poking out as she worked. No, Y/N didn't know how to knit.

When she got to a good place to stop, Y/N held up her needles, calling Daniel what she had been working on. "Grandma sent me some supplies so I could make you a Christmas sweater," she answered.

Daniel had a bit of a reputation in the F1 community. A reputation for his Christmas sweaters. The most notorious of the Christmas sweaters? Why, the jingle my bells sweater, of course.

"Baby," he said, drawing out the word as he sat beside her on the sofa. "You don't know how to knit."

She waved him off, dropping one of her needles. It slid out of the yarn, dropping to the floor. "I'm watching Youtube to learn, Danny," she said as she reached down to pick up the needle.

Instead of threading it back through the yarn, Y/N pulled out her other needle, pulled apart her work and started again.

Danny watched her. It was slow work at first, and he soon realised why she started so early on in the year. His eyes focused on her hands as she cast back on and began knitting once again.

Y/N had to stop and start several times before she finally got it right. Daniel sat on the couch with her, arm around her as she worked. Several times she held her knit work against his stomach (taking a moment to touch his abs. But, come on, who could resist?)

It took weeks, near to a month of constant work before Y/N finally finished with Daniel's Christmas jumper. She worked as they travelled, while she was supposed to be watching Daniel race.

It was perfect timing, really. She got it finished just before December began. Wrapping it up, Y/N placed it in a box, wrapped the box and finished it with a bow.

She gave it to Daniel on the first of December, exactly a month after he'd seen her start to make it. It was red with little green stripes and white reindeers that was clearly having sex.

"I love it," he said as soon as he unwrapped it. "You couldn't have done anything more perfect for me."

"Try it on then!" Y/N urged.

So, Daniel did exactly as she asked and tried on the jumper. He didn't take it off for the entire month of December. No matter what country he was in, he stayed in his Christmas jumper. No matter how hot and sweaty he got, he stayed in his Christmas jumper.

The best part of it? Y/N learnt how to knit. She began knitting everything. So, so many hats for winter. Gloves and scarves and blankets and sweaters and tops and bags. Anything Y/N could make, she did.

Daniel wore it all proudly. Where he used to wear his Red Bull and AlphaTauri shirts, he now wore whatever Y/N knitted for him.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

If they had given Lena's magic more time to grow and flourish, I wouldn't mind if they'd had it manifest as Lena slowly becoming a touch-know.

It's something I've already worked with before, but it seems like a very magicky ability. And it would be so fun to see how it would affect Lena's personality changes post finale.

She's finally opening herself up, allowing herself to connect with people. And then suddenly, slowly, she starts getting these flashes of other people's lives simply by touching them or objects they've handled.

Lena slowly starts retreating again. Where she'd finally begun to ask for and receive the tactile affection she's always craved, she now draws away, maintaining a small distance between herself and others. Most painfully, from Kara.

Because how can she tell the woman she loves that she can feel the ache of overwhelming loss Kara carries with her, and the haunting chill that clings to her since the Phantom Zone. How does she explain that she just can't handle it-- the grief that lingers, on top of all her own shit she's still working through.

Lena doesn't go quite so far as to wearing gloves. Not yet, anyway. But she wears long sleeves that she can tuck her hands into, and wraps her arms around herself as though to keep herself from touching anything by accident.

Until one day, Nia goes missing. Her roommate reports it to Lena first, who quickly calls in the rest of the team. But soon, they're in a deadlock, seemingly without a direction to go in. Until, slowly, Lena focuses on Nia's cell phone left behind on the kitchen island, and releases a long silent breath. Kara is the only one who hears it, and her eyes snap to Lena just as her partner relaxes her arms and shoulders, and reaches out to press her fingertips to the phone's screen.

Kara watches Lena close her eyes, features tensed as the muscles in her jaw tighten. After several long moments, Lena blinks her eyes open, and she retracts her fingers to tuck inside the cuffs of her sweater.

"She arranged to meet someone on King Street at 1am," Lena announces softly. Her gaze flicks to Kara's, and, realizing Kara had seen the whole thing, swiftly looks away. "No name."

They all stare at her, before Alex finally shifts into work mode. "Okay," Alex says with a nod. She nudges Kelly with an elbow. "We'll check out King. Brainy--"

"I will scan through any digital activity in the area," he says briskly. He's not using boxes, but he refuses to get lost in worry while there are still answers to find. "I will keep you all updated of any developments."

Soon, only Kara and Lena remain. A long quiet stretches between them, before Lena swallows thickly.

"There's something I need to tell you."

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 10

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

Word count: 3,765

A/N: I was debating whether or not to take this turn in the story but here we are… tell me what you think, what will happen next? 😊 sometimes I get ideas from your comments✨ thank you for following this series!!

Y/N felt like she was in a dream as she looked at herself in the mirror, she was wearing a gorgeous dress in a creamy tone, her hair glamorously curled and pinned up and very little make up, but everything looked so put together.

She felt like a princess.

With a huge baby bump. She giggled, until she got dressed she didn’t think the dress would fit, but surprisingly it did… and it had a beautiful line full of small crystals right under her breasts and over her bump. She had been half twirling just to catch the light, it was beautiful and delicate and it had costed a fortune, but Polly insisted it was appropriate for the occasion.

Never in her wildest dreams, she could’ve afforded something like that, but Polly basically forced her to get it, she didn’t leave the boutique until Y/N nodded.

It had been a few busy weeks, the Shelby Fundation Dinner planning kept her so busy lately, she had several meetings with vendors to make sure everything would be perfect. Y/N personally supervised the menu, music and flowers, the party held at Arrow House a couple of weeks ago would look small compared to this Gala for the Institution.

Her baby startled wriggling a lot, so Y/N decided to pace around the room in an attempt to settle down.

Meanwhile, downstairs something entirely different was happening. Mary just learned that Mr. Davis -Mr. Shelby’s driver-, had been sneaking from Arrow House with a basket of food and other goodies under that intruder instructions to the Shelby Institute to give it to an unknown person that was living there. But other than that he refused to speak more. She felt upset, that Y/N felt with authority enough to feed someone else off Mr. Shelby’s pocket, because given the fact that Mr. Davis was trying to keep a low profile, when she asked if Mr. Shelby knew about it, the man shook his head.

But she’d reveal the truth and let her master know.

Running her fingers over the table, she checked it looking for any trace of dust. Pleased she then arranged the curtain and finally smoothing her apron, she waited patiently as Mr. Shelby parked his car outside.

“Mary.” He acknowledged her.

“Mr. Shelby I’m so glad you arrived… there’s something I need to tell you.” She explained while hanging his coat.

“Not now Mary, I’ve to get ready for the Institution’s Dinner.” Tommy replied taking the stairs.

“Oh.” The maid smoothed her apron. “Can I help you to get ready then?”

But Tommy was already shaking his head, but as he reached the last step, he changed his mind. “Actually yes, come with me.”

Mary could hardly hide the smirk of satisfaction playing on her face. Would she help him getting into the bath? Or pass down his tuxedo while he got dressed?

Her answer would come shortly as Tommy emerged from his dressing room with a black velvet box. “Go and find Y/N, give her this necklace and help her with the final touches for the Dinner.”

Disappointment flashed through Mary’s face as she stared at the box. “But…”

“Go Mary.” Tommy ushered her outside his bedroom without another glance.

Mary stomped her feet quietly and pursed her lips into a tight line, she didn’t want to help that sinful woman, but she had to obey Mr. Shelby.

“Come in.” Y/N stated when she heard the knock on her door. “Oh, Mary… I thought it might be Tommy.”

“Mr. Shelby is busy.” She clasped her hands together. As much as she disliked, Y/N looked good, her hair perfectly styled and the dress fit like a glove. But she didn’t deserve a compliment.

“Right. Well… guess I’ll wait.” Y/N mumbled starting to feel uncomfortable under Mary’s stare.

“I was asked to hand you this.” The maid explained under her breath. “I hope you really take good care of it, since it’s so expensive.”

The blue stone shone under the room’s light, making Y/N catch her breath.

Mary was still wondering what made Y/N so special to deserve a gift like that, according to her, she didn’t deserve it nor all the benefits she also got for being under Mr. Shelby’s protection.

Y/N looked down at her lap after being reminded once more of her place in Tommy’s life.

The feeling of the cold sapphire against her skin made her come back to reality. Staring back at her reflection, she felt as if the jewel was mocking her, like shouting how ridiculous it looked on her and a shiver ran down her body.

“Who are you hiding?” Mary asked raising her chin in a cocky way. “I know you’ve been stealing food from the kitchen.”

“No one.” Y/N’s words came out shaky as she gave the maid a nervous look.

“I wonder if Mr. Shelby knows…”

Worry flashed over Y/N’s features, she hadn’t got the chance to talk to Tommy about Frances yet, because he had been either at a trip, busy with some business, solving a family affair or visiting a factory. He hadn’t been involved in the Institution event either, he only managed to hand her a list of the important guests he wanted to attend. That led her to be in charge of most of the things, including the decision to help Frances without his approval.

“I think Mr. Shelby shouldn’t have give you so many liberties, you come and go as you please, have your relatives staying over as guests and now you’re feeding another mouth out of his pocket, how ungrateful and opportunist.”

Leaving Y/N to deal with her own guilt, Mary walked out of the bedroom.

She was used to Tommy’s unlimited generosity, he went above and beyond for her and her baby, but the maid was right, there was a thin line and sometimes it felt as if she was stepping over it, her baby would need food, clothes, medicines, it would be expensive and even though Tommy had made clear he was more than able to provide for everything, it felt wrong, it wasn’t his responsibility.

Another knock on the door startled her pulling Y/N abruptly from her thoughts.

It was Claire, the maid who was kind to her. “Miss Y/N, just wanted to let you know the car is ready… oh you look so pretty!”

The unexpected compliment made Y/N smile momentarily.

“Is everything alright?”

Blinking to push her emotions away, Y/N gave her a nod. “Just trying to find a way to put on my shoes, this belly is on the way.”

“Let me help.” The young maid offered without hesitation. “I heard Mary’s furious for being asked to help you so I decided to see if you needed something.”

Kneeling in front of her, the maid took her feet and placed the shoe against her lap, then the other.

“You’re so kind to me.”

Claire thought Y/N didn’t deserve to be treated the way she did by some people, she knew the reason she was living there was because her parents didn’t support her. And she had experienced a similar situation when her cousin Amanda got kicked out of her house, she went to her house temporarily and then got married to the father of her baby, sadly she passed away during the birth and the child got placed into an orphanage. But she refused to share that story, Miss Y/N didn’t need those kind of thoughts.

“It’s going to be chilly, you’ll need to wear the stole.”

A sigh escaped Y/N’s lips. Ada had lent her the hair clip she was wearing, a lipstick and the fur stole. To her it all seemed like too much, even Polly insisted on getting her a nice perfume, she didn’t dare to ask how much it was, she preferred to save that money instead, but to the Shelby family it was important, part of the image they wanted to portray for society and after all they had done for her it was at least she could do.

Her heart was drumming as she stepped at the top of the stairs, it was like a dream. So surreal, this kind of event was like the ultimate ball, it was crucial for the kids to get enough donations to run the Institute.

At the loud sound of a thunder, Y/N gasped.

“Is just the bad weather.” Mr. Davis informed her from the front seat.

“Right… I’m just nervous.”

“Miss Y/LN?” He asked with a hint of doubt in his voice. “Do you think you can speak to Mr. Shelby for me? I’m afraid of what Mary might tell him and I really need the job.”

Mr. Davis only helped her deliver the groceries and food to Frances on her behalf, he wasn’t responsible, so she assured him she’d explain everything to Tommy as soon as she could.

Tommy hurried across the room to tuck in his shirt, zipping his pants he then started fixing the cummerbund. Hair fresh from the shower, he sprayed some lotion.

Staring at the mirror, he skillfully tied the bow.

“Fuck.” He breathed out as he took a look at the clock, he wanted to arrive to the venue early to greet the guests. Placing the cuffs in place he stood in front of the mirror for a second to make sure his hair was perfectly combed.

The speech he had prepared was safely guarded inside the pocket of his jacket, now he just needed to get his coat from the downstairs closet.

“Jesus, you scared me Mr. Shelby.” Mary stated as he stormed off his bedroom. “Before you go, I need to tell you something important.”

Tommy rolled his shoulders as he made it halfway the staircase.

“Later, I’ve to go Mary.”

“I must insist, just want you to know Miss Y/N has been taking food from the kitchen to give it to someone, and there are some sheets and towels missing too.”

Tommy stopped abruptly to look back at her.

Pondering in his maid’s words he tried to find a way out.

“Don’t worry Mary, I’m aware.” He stated and then, continued to rush downstairs.

But he didn’t know and confusion invaded his mind as he put on his coat. Why would Y/N do something like that? It didn’t make sense, but right now he could only think of the event, he needed it to be perfect.

On his way to the vehicle, he thought of finding a way to make Y/N understand she could take everything she wanted or needed and she didn’t need to hide. But he couldn’t help but wonder who was that person?

“Hey.” She greeted him as he made his way into the back seat next to her.

Her genuine smile welcomed Tommy, instinctively he passed an arm behind her head to make her feel comfortable.

“Hello,” then he instructed the driver to go.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it.”

“Yeah something came up and I wasted some time, but here we go… are you ready for the big event?”

“I can’t wait.”

“Looking good ey?” Tommy couldn’t help but notice the subtle make up she was wearing and that glow she carried everywhere made her features stand out. “So fancy.”

He couldn’t see it in the dim light, but Y/N blushed, his words made her feel confident.

Y/N adjusted the stole around her shoulders.

“Ada said this would keep me warm.” She wasn’t used to this kind of luxury. “And she also lent me this hair brooch.”

Turning her head around, she showed Tommy.

“Hmm.” He hummed, taking in the little details Y/N was showing him, she sounded like a kid in a candy store. “I remember that, gave it to her for her 21st birthday.”

“I know, she told me.” Y/N explained fixing her eyes on the man sitting next to her, he was so selflessly generous, there was no one else like him. And he looked so handsome.

Over the years she had heard people speak of him out of fear, out of anger and resentment, and every single time she had jumped right there and then to defend him, because she only knew this side of him.

“Do you’ve the pendant?” He asked wriggling his eyebrows and with a playful smile growing on his lips.

“I’m terrified to lose it.”

Unconsciously, Y/N touched the cold stone hanging from her neck.

Tommy asked her to show it to him so she let the stole fall from her shoulders and threw her head slightly back so Tommy could have a better look of the present he gave her.

For a couple of seconds she held her breath as his eyes fixed on the necklace.

Then his eyes slid lower, to her cleavage, the valley of her breasts captured all his attention and it was Tommy’s turn to hold his breath. He couldn’t help but notice the evident change in her frame apart from the obvious bump… quickly he cleared his throat and looked away feeling guilty for the sudden turn his thoughts took.

“It’s heavy.” Y/N stated oblivious of what just crossed his mind, when Tommy shifted on his seat, she looked at him. “Are you sure it isn’t too much?”

As soon as the car parked, Tommy rushed to walk around the car to help her down. “It’s perfect.” He admitted focusing now on the ground instead of her.

“There’s Polly.” Greeting her with enthusiasm, Y/N praised her look and beauty, she was stunning.

“Let’s get inside, shall we?” She urged Y/N and offered her hand for her to take the steps.

“What are we gushing about?”

Polly’s smile grew impossibly big. “There’s a man that wants to do my portrait.”

“The painter from the party?”

Polly nodded as someone approached to get their coats.

But their chat was soon interrupted by the impressive decoration at the venue.

“Wow this is breathtaking.” Polly stated holding Y/N’s hand.

It was eye catching, the chandeliers on the bases and flowers looked so elegant, it was the perfect way to greet people.

Y/N felt so proud of what she had achieved after working for so long in this event, choosing the best flowers, the best dishes, selecting the greatest band in the city. And it was all paying out. Hopefully they’ll get a lot of people donating for the Institution.

Tommy who had been stopped by the entrance couldn’t stop his eyes from following Y/N. There was something in her that put him in some kind of spell.

“Oh, this looks lovely my dear.” Y/N’s grandma finally arrived, linking her arm to her granddaughter, she smiled proudly. “And why are you so beautiful?”

“Because I look just like you.” Y/N kissed her cheek lovingly and returned the compliment as Tommy walked towards them.

“I hope you’re planning to dance all night, eh?” He winked at Y/N’s grandma.

“Oh Tommy I wish… but now I’m old and I don’t want to look like a fool.”

“Grandma, none of that.” Y/N chuckled. “I’ll be right back to welcome the guests.”

“Well, well Tommy Shelby knows how to throw a party.” Ada tilted her head, she wasn’t surprised by her brother’s wealth, but his need to let everybody know.

He cleared his throat, aching for a smoke. “Money can get you anything, Ada.”

“Oh yeah?” Those eyes of hers reminded him so much of his mother. “And what about love, Tom? Can you buy a wife too?”

The truth in her words felt like knife opening his chest in two.

No, he could always for sex yes, but not love. Shifting his weight from one foot to another, his eyes found Y/N in the back of the salon greeting a guest and taking the envelope with the donation they promised.

As more guests joined them, Tommy moved from group to group, not really listening to what they were saying but he had to pretend.

“Tommy.” Y/N touched his shoulder. “He’s the leader of the Birmingham City Council.”

“Hello Tommy.” They greeted each other.

“Danny.”

Until they started chatting, she realized they already knew each other, but as Danny was explaining their business, Tommy’s posture changed and he got tense. Following his eyes, she found the man that visited at the Institute once.

Y/N couldn’t understand what that priest was doing there, she couldn’t recall having him in the guest list specially after Tommy asked her to be extra cautious when it came to him. But she couldn’t interfere either so she let Tommy deal with him, she still had to greet lots of people anyways.

“Oh hi Esme!” Y/N stopped for a second in front of John’s wife. “Look at you.”

But Esme’s attention was fixed on the necklace, the sapphire hanging from Y/N’s neck. She felt something indescribable and an urgency to stand as far as possible from it invaded her.

“Who gave you that?” She asked Y/N bluntly.

It was dark, sinister and she didn’t like it at all. Esme could barely stand to look at the stone.

Confused, Y/N frowned. “Tommy, why? It’s a gift.”

Worry installed in her heart, Esme could feel her throat closing, the energy coming off the stone made her feel dizzy and she could only see black dots blurry her vision, as Y/N called for John to check on his wife.

There was nothing Y/N could do, she felt bad for Esme not feeling well but sadly she needed to attend the guests.

A woman approached her with a foreign accent.

“I’m the Duchess Tatiana Petrovna.”

Once Y/N left behind her initial shock, she wondered how did she end up in the same room with someone who was part of the royalty. She tried to do a small curtsy, just like she was taught.

Tatiana smirked and noticed the necklace.

“You know I’m used to wear jewels all the time, it must’ve fascinating for you to have the chance to have it loaned.”

Y/N had to bit her tongue hard to remain quiet and don’t fire back as the Duchess deserved.

“I wonder what you must’ve done for Mr. Shelby to give you that.” Her words and tone clearly meant to humiliate Y/N but she was used by now and she wasn’t in the mood.

It was either her mother, Mary, the rest of the people and now a woman who owned a royal title who wanted to make her feel like she didn’t deserve anything.

“You can ask him why, Duchess.”

Tatiana watched her with wide eyes. “Oh, my my… you’ve character.”

With a sigh, Tommy joined them, now they wanted him to take the Duchess to the factory, he didn’t trust Father Hughes and he didn’t trust the Russians either.

“You should’ve kissed my hand.” Tatiana flirted openly, directing her eyes towards Y/N, she wanted to show her she was in charge and even a man like Thomas Shelby obeyed her.

Observing the interaction between them, felt a sudden urge to stand in front of the Duchess to place some distance between her and Tommy. She couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation, she was blinded by jealousy by the mere thought of them together but…why?

As Tommy noticed Tatiana’s intentions he motioned Ada to take Y/N away.

“There’s a Lady that wants to talk about a donation to the Institution, Y/N come with me?” Ada was suddenly leading her in another direction.

Tatiana was definitely after Tommy. If they got together, what would happen to her? Would Tommy still support her and her baby?

“If you excuse me, I’ll go to the powder room.” Y/N gave the woman and Ada an apologetic look and excused herself, feeling grateful for having a minute to calm down at the internal turmoil she was dealing with.

Tommy was looking for Y/N hysterically, heart pounding inside his chest, worry showing across his forehead. “Have you seen Y/N?” He asked Arthur, who only raised his hands and shook his head.

That sapphire is cursed by a gypsy.- Tatiana’s words repeating over and over in his head.

He didn’t believe in God anymore, he didn’t believe in fate either. But he religiously believed in gypsy curses.

He needed that fucking necklace off Y/N. Why the hell did he have to give it to her?

She must mean something to you if you gave her such a pretty jewel.- she had stated before explaining about the curse.

Suddenly people moved and he spotted Y/N talking to someone.

“Come with me.” He ordered pulling her by the arm.

“Calm down, what’s happening?” She asked with a frown.

“Give me the necklace.” His words came out rushed, he was desperate.

“What? Why?”

“Give me the fucking necklace. Now.” He barked confusing Y/N more.

Feeling overwhelmed by the strange situation, Y/N felt bothered and sensible.

“Why would you give it to me then?” She asked but Tommy interrupted her, his hands on her shoulders shaking her slightly.

“I need you to be safe, Y/N.” But he refused to explain further.

Locking his eyes with her, she couldn’t understand what was crossing in his mind.

“Fuck this, fuck these people… we don’t need it.”

Words wouldn’t come out as he wanted, he needed to rip off the necklace from her.

“But Tommy…” what did he mean about fuck this? The event she had worked so hard on?

What did it had to do with the necklace?

“Y/N… please?”

His grip on her shoulders got tighter. This abrupt need to protect her from all evil that it was baffling, it made him feel uneasy but at the same time it was relieving as she grinned and moved her hand back to take the necklace off.

“Damn you Tommy Shelby”

In matter of seconds, everything changed… there was a shout and commotion. Before Tommy could react, he realized Y/N was a death weight against his chest.

There was blood. A lot.

“Y/N?!” He shouted.

Tommy heard himself call for an ambulance but he wasn’t sure anymore.

“You’re going to be alright. Take it easy.” Gently, he caressed her face. “Save your energy.”

“Tommy? It’s getting dark…” Y/N mumbled.

“Don’t close your eyes Y/N… stay with me!”

Next part

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[kth1fics]

I Won't Hurt You (M) | MYG

I Won't Hurt You

● Pairing: Ghostface!Yoongi x Female Reader ● Genre: Horror, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ● Tropes: scream au, pwp, established relationship, slight angst ● WC: 1.7k ● Warnings: party vibes, dark-themes (murder), weapon mention(knife), mentions of blood, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex, does it make sense? No. does it have to? No, etc ● Beta: n/a (i don’t talk to anyone so i have no betas) ● Summary: You find out that your boyfriend is Ghost Face, but he doesn't want to hurt you. ● Author’s Note: Who would have spontaneous sex with their boyfriend after they unalived someone? This fic is completely out of the blue and I love the Scream franchise! Please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! ● Song Recommendation: To The Stage by Asking Alexandria

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

All night, you have been looking for your boyfriend in Namjoon’s house. What started out as a bopping Halloween party soon turned into a ghost town. Even when the place was filled with bodies and costumes it was hard to find Yoongi. Now, you can’t even find a single soul.

It isn’t until you quietly crept up the staircase towards the hallway do you finally find someone.

A shadowed figure crosses through the light in a room. You hesitantly peer into the doorway to see someone wearing a full ghost face costume, looming over the bloody body of Namjoon. The figure swipes the blood clean from a bowie knife as they stare down at his lifeless body.

The scream lodged in your throat doesn’t surface as your hand covers your mouth. You slowly back away from the door but fate has other plans for you as the wooden stair creaks from the weight of your step.

Nerve endings on high alert, you watch as if in slow motion while the stranger turns their head and acknowledges you. Your voice comes forward in a scream as you begin down the stairs, feet stepping as fast as possible while the stranger is fast on your trail.

The heavy push of their body tackles you like a linebacker hitting a quarterback. Swiftly landing you to the ground and pinning you to the floor.

Helplessly you yelp, “Stop! Please, no!”

The ghost face keeps you beneath him as their clothed hand covers your mouth. They pull off their mask and reveal themselves to you, leaving you undoubtedly stunned. It’s your boyfriend, Yoongi.

“I’m going to remove my hand,” he warns with a warm tone. “Please don’t scream.”

Yoongi is straddling your hips as his body keeps you from moving around. He watches the way your eyes shift into fearful tears as he drops his mask to the side.

You nod slowly and Yoongi takes his time pulling away from you. He stands towering over your terrified state with the knife still in his hand. Yoongi waits for you patiently to sit up as you stare at him.

Traces of blood stain the front of your cowgirl costume, transferred from Yoongi’s costume. You were wearing a matching set with Yoongi when you arrived tonight, but the man you look up to now looks completely different from what you remember.

His black hair is disheveled across his face with traces of sweat gathering at his temples. He’s partially out of breath and covered in a stark black gown. There’s a wild, puzzled look to his eyes as he leers down at you.

Fear runs through you forcing yourself to uncontrollably tear up. You can’t run, he’s proven that to you already. You’re stuck right here in front of a murderer. He leans down and tries to console you with a hug but your arms shoot out and reject him.

“Y/n, baby, please –” he hushes, “Don’t cry! It’s okay, I won’t hurt you!” Yoongi’s voice is as soft as he can possibly make it. His hand comes to brush aside a portion of your hair while he continues to speak, “Baby, let me see your face. I can explain.”

Gently, Yoongi manages to pull your arms toward him as he cradles your cheek with his hand. You feel the smooth gloved thumb run across your skin and wipe away the running tears. 

You look at him in disbelief as he holds onto you. There’s still the sweet, beautiful, caring man before you. The one you know all too well. His warm eyes remind you of the Yoongi you love, the man you put your full trust into.

“W-why?” Your voice breaks with emotion.

The question could be meant for a multitude of reasons, but he knows exactly which question you are asking. And for an answer he cannot explain simply. 

Yoongi stalls momentarily, his mouth hanging open for a split second before closing. He pulls you into a tight hug, “You weren’t supposed to stay here.” Your body stiffens immensely as you feel Yoongi’s arms around you. His chest beats against yours, both your hearts racing erratically. “Jenna was supposed to take you home,” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“I couldn’t find you!” You hiccup with pain in your voice.

His warmth allows your body to relax against his. Your panic allows you to hold onto him tightly as your body shakes with adrenaline. It feels as if your heart is shattering within you as reality settles.

Yoongi pulls away from you so he can look into your glossy eyes as you weep with sadness. His fingers lightly grip your chin and force you to face him. “Baby, I love you. I’ll never ever hurt you, I promise!��� He kisses your lips tenderly before pulling you closer.

“I’m so sorry you are in the middle of this,” he murmurs as he kisses you again. “You weren’t supposed to see this stuff. I was trying to protect you.”

Yoongi’s lips follow the length of your neck, leaving warm kisses on your skin as his hands roam your body. He places his bowie knife to the side, away from the two of you while he continues to let his apologies leave his lips. 

You allow Yoongi to lay you down on the hardwood floor. He maneuvers to your chest, using his fingers to pull down your cowgirl top and bra enough to release a nipple. His lips attach to your sensitive bud, using his tongue to flick across the fleshy piece until it hardens. Yoongi’s body slots comfortably between your legs as he slithers down your front. He disposes himself of a glove, freeing his digits from the leather fabric just before reaching the hem of your skirt.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips mutter against your lower stomach. His bare fingertips dance along the inside of your thighs while they descend closer to your core, “I love you so much.”

Yoongi looks up at you for confirmation before he continues forward. You nod slowly, reassuringly, for him to know you trust him. Quickly, Yoongi’s face buries and disappears in between your legs. His fingers pull aside whatever panties that are in his way and licks a solid strip up your folds before sliding two of his deft fingers inside of you.

You clench at the sudden intrusion, but it’s a welcoming presence nonetheless. Involuntarily your legs squeeze the sides of his head, hands shooting down to grip the raven black locks atop his head as a lewd moan leaks from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you curse as the back of your head thuds against the floor below you. You tug hard on his hair as your hips buck into his face.

Yoongi frantically picks up the pace with his fingers as his tongue swivels around your clit, lathering the nub with his saliva as he presses knuckles deep into your walls. He leans up from you abruptly, fingers still running a ‘come-hither’ motion inside of you as his parted mouth glistens. 

Yoongi fumbles with his belt underneath the ghost face cloak before pulling the blasted cloth off of him, revealing the same cowboy outfit that you match with. He slides back on to you, fingers pulling out of you quickly to shove down his jeans and boxers past his hips to free his hardened cock.

You feel yourself dripping the moment Yoongi removes his fingers. He uses your essence off his fingers and lathers it along his cock before giving it a quick few tugs. Yoongi’s desperate when lining himself up with your entrance, being mindful to pull your panties as far to the side as possible. The moment his cockhead kisses your hole he leans down to connect his mouth to yours.

He pushes into you completely, forcing the two of you to let out a sudden and satisfied moan. Yoongi lifts your leg up to allow a deeper penetration, thrusting slow and deep as he bends you to his will.

“You feel so good, baby –” he hums as his head nuzzles into your neck. 

Your fingers curl on his clothes, leaving small scratch marks through the material. 

“H-Hold on to me…” Yoongi picks his pace up fast. His hips snap into your body, pulling his cock all the way out just to dive it right back in at full force. The lewd sounds of skin slapping skin struck his ears, your beautiful whines mixed with pleasure fuels his ego. He craves more with every single thrust he puts into you, gradually fucking you harder and faster until your body is shifting across the hardwood flooring.

“Y-yoongi, I’m gonna –” A broken moan interrupts you when his teeth latch onto your neck, leaving a harsh mark that undoubtedly will become a bruise. Your body jolts in his grasp while your eyes screw shut. 

“Cum for me,” Yoongi’s voice is laced with lust, a small smile tugging at his lips as he feverishly piles his cock into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he grunts between his words, every thrust stronger than the last. It helps build your orgasm up to the very brim before it snaps, “Cum for me baby, I love you.”

You can’t form a full sentence as his thrusts become more desperate, reverting to you chanting the word ‘yes’ like a mantra as your sweaty body jolts underneath Yoongi’s weight. Your moans grow louder, the heightened sensation in your lower region breaks as your climax washes over you in an exciting rush. Yoongi’s hips began to slam into you. Your cunt clenched around his cock like a vice grip, the flexing muscles spasm inside you squeeze him so tightly it leaves Yoongi gasping.

He groans loudly as he pulls out just in time and comes hot white ropes on top of your panties. Yoongi slowly rocks his hips against your body as his high dies down, his mouth leaving open kisses across your neck until he reaches your mouth. 

“Baby,” he huffs. “Look at me.”

You turn to see the mirth in Yoongi’s eyes. Both of you lay there with spinning heads, breath labored, and bodies cooling off.

“I won’t do anything to hurt you,” he sighs. “I’ll never hurt you.”

© 2024 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[sparklingchim]

Can we get a very short drabble (the way you answer asks, that's perfect too) on jk and Nabi being obsessed with oc's mommy milkers

You feel the tiny dig of a finger at your chest before a small hand tries to tug the front of your top down.

"Nabi, baby," you scold, making her let go of the lacy material. "I thought I told you many times already."

Nabi pouts at you, sad and grumpy. But she's also extremely mischievous — perhaps because you love to spoil her, which may have led to some bratty tendencies. But how could you not? She's so tiny and cute and has the same doe eyes as Jungkook. That's reason enough — so she moves her hand back to your chest.

"Don't try to take my top off." You raise your brows. "We've talked about this so many times, missy."

You gently remove her hand from your chest again, adjusting her little body on your hip as you continue stirring the food on the stove.

"Talked about what?"

Both you and Nabi turn to Jungkook’s voice.

"Jungkook," you beam. Your legs move on their own toward him. Nabi utters happy little sounds.

He gives you both a forehead kiss, taking Nabi from your arms when she impatiently wriggles to get his attention and be held by him.

"What was she up to again?" he asks, his sparkly eyes focused on Nabi, who is currently giving him her brightest smile. Jungkook tickles her tummy, and she squeals.

You get back to stirring the pot. "Just, you know, she's been obsessed with taking this off again." You point to the lacy camisole you're wearing.

He chuckles deeply. "I'm obsessed with them too. She takes after me." You roll your eyes at his silliness.

Jungkook pecks your neck. One hand grabs your waist. He sneakily brushes his fingers up your sides, gently tracing over your ribcage until his hand squeezes the supple flesh of your chest.

You draw a sharp breath. "You're too much, Jungkook," you tease, your cheeks turning hot as you gently push him away.

Jungkook grins. He can't keep his hand to himself. They naturally land on your waist again.

"Just missed you." He kisses Nabis head. "You too." He watches you cook, fingers somehow managing to slip underneath your top and draw little circles on your skin. "The kids at boxing class have missed you too. They asked why my pretty assistant wasn't here today."

You giggle. "They really said that?"

When you visited Jungkook at work the other day, he was giving a class for the children, and he decided to put you in boxing gloves and called you his assistant for today's class.

"Yeah, and I told him to knock it off because you're my girlfriend. And then they all giggled and said that was really obvious because I kept smiling when you were around," Jungkook says. "And because Jia saw us kissing."

"Jungkook, why are you picking up fights with 8-year-olds?" You laugh, shaking your head, incredulous at his antics. "You're unbelievable. But I'd love to visit again if you'd want me to."

"I'd love that." He plants a kiss on your temple. "I love having you around me."

[jezabelle9299]

Halloween S.R x Fem!Reader

Overture- You and Spencer are the only ones wearing costumes in the bureau this Halloween, he just got called in for a case, and you're dropping some things off for your roommate (Y/R/N). I want it to be fall so bad, it's 90 degrees where I live and my car does not have A/C. Also reader is a weeping angel from doctor who, which is essentially a creature that while it is being perceived by anyone looks like a statue (Specifically of an angel usually), very freaky, but reader's costume is a little more cutesy. (They're also only in the second iteration of the show, but as far as I'm concerned Spencer and reader are still matching.)

C-Ws- It's all fluff, there's a kiss? Teasing, reader is referred to as a girl, wears makeup, heels, dresses, etc, holding hands, they're like in love almost immediately.

Your roommate forgot the paperwork she needed. Again. This time she called you while you were on your way out the door to your halloween plans, begging you for a stack of files she definitely was not supposed to take home, that were nevertheless on your dining room table. This was far from the first time she’d asked you to bring her something, but it was the first time she said she wouldn’t meet you in the lobby or the coffee shop around the block. She was, in her words, “Chained to her desk”. So she required you to actually check in with security, and bring her files to her desk. The lovely kicker being that you were already in full costume.

She shut down your contesting with the promise of making her amazing pumpkin bread when she got home.So you swallowed your ego as you took one last look in the mirror. Your costume was cute, verging on sexy, but dorky enough to keep it from fully reaching that point. You were a weeping angel from Doctor Who. You were in a short gray dress with a stone pattern, gray tights with accompanying high heels, and gray lace gloves with don’t blink embroidered on them. The look was completed with some small angel wings and makeup that was smokey enough to tow the line between sexy and spooky. 

You walked into the building files in hand, up to the security desk. After picking up your visitor pass, you made your way to the elevators. Safely alone in the silver box, the doors started to close. That is, until someone turns on their side to slide through them. He’s exhausted, after clearly running through the lobby somehow not spilling the coffee in his hand. He was also in costume, giving you huge relief after passing all of the serious suit-clad agents in the lobby.

You smiled at his choice in costume, he was dressed as the 4th doctor, making your costumes kind of match. The doors closed once again and you stood side by side in silence. He was looking at you, almost like he was trying to figure out what you were. You expected this of course, but he clearly watched the show. Until he cleared his throat as you were approaching the 2nd floor. 

“I’m sorry-Hi-sorry I just, I have to ask. Are you… a weeping angel? You smiled at that. He did get it. But you pushed down some of your excitement to make an attempt at a cool headed response.

“I am! I’ll be very disappointed if that was an odd pickup line and not a guess.” His eyes got as big as saucers, and he put his hands out like he was trying to stop a runaway train, still clutching a coffee cup in his right hand, but doing the motion all the same. 

“No!-That’s-It was a guess. It’s a great costume.” 

“Thank you, I like yours too, a doctor dressed as the doctor.” You said that referencing the ID tag hanging from his bag, but he looked.. Skeptical? 

“How did you know I was a doctor?” He was just too cute. He worked at the FBI and couldn’t seem to gather that his name tag was giving him away? You just gave a small giggle and pointed to the plastic. When he looked down confused, he came back up embarrassed. Then the elevator did a final chime as the doors opened to the 5th floor.

“I guess on that note, this is my stop. Will I see you around the building?” He looked hopeful in a way that made you wish the elevator hadn’t stopped just so you could spend a few more minutes with him. That is, until you realized you also needed to get off at this floor. 

“Actually, could you help me? I’m supposed to drop some stuff off for my roommate, but I don’t know where her desk is. It's somewhere on this floor.” 

“Definitely-sure, what’s her name I can-” He was cut off by a man who was the epitome of the phrase ‘Tall, dark, and handsome.’ Not your type, but very classically handsome.

“Well, well, well, pretty boy who did you bring to work?” He reached his hand out to you, but you were busy with some extreme embarrassment, feeling even more out of place than you had in the lobby. The man next to you was’t better, his face reading as exhausted and humiliated. You eventually pulled your mouth shut where it was agape and offered your hand back to him. 

“Im Y/N, I'm actually just dropping some things off for my roommate, Y/R/N. Dr.Reid and I only met in the elevator, just similar tastes in costumes I guess!” Now the embarrassment that was once dawning on your face, dawned on him as he realized his error.

“Apologies for the presumption, I’m Derek Morgan, I work with Spencer.” 

You just couldn’t stop the words that came out next. “No worries, I should be so lucky to accompany Dr.Reid.” Derek raised his eyebrows in a small expression of shock and clapped a now beet red Spencer on the shoulder. 

“Well it was lovely to meet you Y/N, I would love to leave you two to it believe me but we’ve got a case.” You forced yourself to look Spencer in the eye again. 

“It was nice to meet you Derek and you too Dr. Reid.” Derek gave you a smile and a nod as he turned back to head up a small staircase, but Dr. Reid didn’t follow him. 

“You can call me Spencer, Dr. Reid is too formal for someone wearing this silly of a costume.” 

“I happen to like your costume, Spencer. And as much as I’d love to keep talking to you, your boss is staring at us.” you gestured to the dark haired stern man in a suit looking down at you from the door to the conference room. 

“Happy Halloween Spencer, I hope I’ll see you around.” You turned back towards the clusters of desks and started looking for the one your roommate was sitting in. It didn’t take long to find her despite the hustle and bustle still crowding the floor at this late hour. When you spotted her she was fixated on even more paperwork, not noticing you until you approached her desk. 

“Thank you so much, you are my savior. I promise that pumpkin bread is coming your way.” You laughed at the unnecessary seriousness with which she said that. 

“Thank you, and it’s no biggie since I was going out anyway. But I do need to ask you something. Spencer– Dr. Reid, is he single?”

“Wow, you’ve been here 5 minutes and you’ve already found your dork match. I saw him walking with Hotch a second ago, you’re even matching!” She was keeled over and cackling, when you stomped your heeled foot to get her to stop and answer your question. She pretended to wipe tears of laughter from her eyes just to rub salt in the wound. 

“Ok, ok, yes he’s single as far as I know, but I’m not setting you up. If you’d like to do something about your freaky little crush, you can leave a note on his desk.” She pointed to a neatly kept desk, piled high with books on every subject. 

“They have a case, so he’ll probably be out of town for a few days, but he might see it before they leave. No go on, do, and get out of here. I do still have a job to do, and no offense, but you’re kind of making me look ridiculous by association.” She tossed a notepad with a purple pen clipped to it towards you. You grumbled a quick thanks, still annoyed by the dig at your costume. But you jotted down a quick note, hopeful he’d see it sooner rather than later,, because it would be all the more humiliating if he’d forgotten about you before he saw it. 

Spencer, 

I only got to talk to you for a few minutes but I’d like to get to know you more in a place with less costumes and government agents watching over us. Call me if you’d like to go out sometime ♥️ 

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX

You drew a small pair of angel wings as a signature, then left it on his desk on your way back to the elevators. 

When Spencer left the round table, with only 30 minutes before he needed to be on the plane he made a beeline to Y/R/N’s desk approaching cautiously with a small wave. 

“Hi– Sorry to bother you, but I was talking to your roommate earlier, and I was wondering–” She cut him off, putting her hand up to stop him in his tracks. 

“I’ll tell you what I told Y/N. I’m not getting involved in this cute freaky little thing you guys have going on. Check your desk, go on your case, thank me later.” He turned back towards his desk, made it about two steps before turning back. This time with a hopeful look on his face.

“What you told her? Did she– Did she ask about me?” Y/R/N just rolled her eyes and refocused on her paperwork. 

“Goodbye Dr.Reid.” She left no room for argument, so he turned back to his desk, later finding your note neatly placed on top of some files. He read it twice, just to make sure he wasn’t daydreaming. He felt like he was in a high school movie, with the prettiest girl passing him a note in class. He was just getting lost in that train of thought, when he saw the rest of the team heading for the elevator bank, ready for the case. He’d gotten so distracted mooning over your note, he’d run out of time to change. He’d have to make his best attempt to get into his regular clothes in the small airplane bathroom.

It was a fast case, a spree killer in Georgia they were able to catch by sunrise the next day. He’d re-read your note maybe 20 times in less than 12 hours, even though he remembered every word, garnering significantly more teasing from Derek, along with the rest of the team after he caught them up. He could tell they were all happy for him though, despite the teasing. 

When they landed back in Quantico he swiftly deboarded the plane, and headed home paperwork in hand, to be done later. He’d typically do it at his desk, but he wanted to call you with minimal chance for interruption.

It was barely 6am. It was your day off, and your phone was still ringing. Normally you’d check and see if you could ignore it, but you couldn’t even gather the energy to look before answering. Luckily you didn’t drink last night, so you weren’t hungover, but even without that added layer of discomfort you were not in the mood to be up and talking to people. So you grumbled a dreary hello into the line, eyes still closed. 

“Hey– Hi, I’m sorry, I woke you up.I just– we just got back from that case and I wanted to know if you wanted to..go out? Tonight? If you don’t have other plans, that is.” You perked up at the sound of his voice, and fully shot up in your bed when he asked you out. You weren’t tired anymore. 

“I’d love to! I actually have tickets to this  re-showing of the original Frankenstein, if you'd like to go with me?” You could hear a shaky exhale coming from his side of the line. 

“That sounds great! What time should I pick you up?”

“8 o’clock would be perfect.”

“Awesome–I’ll uh, I’ll see you then.” 

“Ok, bye Spencer. Now go get some rest? I’m assuming you haven’t slept yet?” You were sure he could hear the smile in your voice. 

“You would be correct. I’ll do that, and I’ll see you tonight?” You said your goodbyes, hung up, and squealed into your pillows. You were up for good now, but luckily that gave you more time to plan. You wandered to the kitchen to make your roommate some of the expensive coffee you usually saved for special occasions as a bribe for her to break her silence about Spencer. She told you he was a literal genius, a fact that did not help your nervousness. She also told you he was a behavioral analyst, that he didn’t like touch, and that he was from Vegas. That was all she’d tell you before heading out the door a half hour early, while denying any further questions. 

Then you threw on some sweats, removed the last bit of makeup that was clinging on from the night before and headed out the door. You got another coffee, before picking up some of the things you needed around the house, in addition to things that would help you feel ready for your date. You’d gone on a few, but not enough to feel like you knew what to expect, and you were usually focused on making sure the person you were out with didn’t think you were dorky or weird, but that was kind of out the window already. 

You were already supposed to go to lunch with some of your friends, so you chose to ask their advice. They were the only people you could really trust with that sort of thing, but that didn’t stop you from immediately looking up every trashy advice column you could find online, most of which were filled with categorically horrible advice, but it was a great way to kill time. 

Once it was all said and done, you decided to start getting ready 3 hours early, taking a long shower, spending almost a half hour getting your eyeliner to be perfectly even, instead of the sort-of even you usually settled for. You threw on a comfortable skirt, with a form fitting sweater and some matching boots to keep you warm in the cold theater. Ultimately you were glad you got ready early, as it was still 10 till 8 when Spencer was knocking on your door. He looked petrified. In a good way?

“Wow– you look, wow. I’m–uh sorry I’m so early. I was just–really excited for this.” You smiled, and gave yourself a little internal high five that you picked the right outfit. 

“It’s ok, I’m really excited too.” Then you gave yourself a second to really look at him, no costumes this time. His hair was different–good different. He was dressed really nice too, in a polka dot button up, with a purple sweater vest, and a black tie tucked into it crooked. At first he was staring back at you, studying you as you were him, until some insecurity crept onto both of your faces at the close observation. You straightened your posture as much as you could, and asked if he was ready. When he gave a shaky exhale and a resounding yes, he walked you from your apartment door with a hesitant, almost hovering touch on your lower back before arriving at his car, only removing his hand as he opened the door for you. 

He played classical music, and you talked about your days, his case, and your Halloween plans from the previous evening. When you arrived at the theater his hand once again found your lower back, until you got in the concessions line, when he dropped it to brush your wrist before looking to your face. 

“Is this…alright?” He moved closer to clasp your hands together as you smiled up at him. 

“It’s more than ok, although I am kind of surprised.” You maintained your smile so he would know it wasn’t nervousness or reluctance, but confusion painted his face at the perceived contradiction. 

“Y/R/N said that you weren’t a big fan of touch with people you don’t know very well.” 

“She said that?”

Oh. I guess that’s not something someone would say out of the blue. 

“Yeah I sort of–asked about you. Is that too weird?” He blushed at that and a little of your anxiety dissipated. 

“I don’t think it’s weird, I tried to ask her about you but she sent me away so I could find your note. Which was definitely better, by the way.” The idea of him liking your note sent you into the stratosphere. 

“She wouldn’t tell me anything about you either at first, which is why I wrote the note. Which I’m glad you liked, I was worried it was too dorky. But I got her to tell me a little bit about you by bribing her with coffee this morning.” He laughed a little at that, and you realized how easy it was with him. I mean not that you were particularly experienced, but you were certain they weren’t usually this natural. You were pulled from spiraling into that train of thought when you realized there was only one person ahead of you in line, and Spencer spoke. 

“What would you like? I think they have most of the regular snack and candy things, but they might have real food if you’re hungry. I’ve never actually been to this theater before, I didn’t know they did re-showings here.”

“Me neither, I only found out about this because I saw something for it online. But a cherry coke would be great. And if you’re sure you don’t mind my germs we could share some popcorn?” 

“Popcorn sounds great.” And without a second thought he kissed your hands where they were laced together. He was just about to horrifiedly ask you if he took it too far, when you giggled and smiled like there was nowhere else you’d rather be, and no one else you’d rather be with. Truthfully there wasn’t.

You got your concessions from the apathetic teenager behind the counter, and quickly found your seats in the back of the theater. You’d gotten there well before the movie started, so Spencer told you all of the fun facts he could think of. And as shocked as you were that he knew them, he was even more surprised he’d found someone to listen to them. 

After sitting in one spot for so long, you were starting to feel the exhaustion from this morning creep back in. Emboldened by the fact your hands were still clasped, you decided to lay your head against his arm. His button-up was surprisingly soft and you had to fight the urge to fully rest the side of your face on him, in an effort to not get makeup on his mostly-white shirt. He relaxed into your touch immediately, giving you the validation you needed that it was ok. 

When you left the theater, and climbed into his car once again, you talked, but the conversation was decidedly less nervous. You talked about your friends, your job, and your family, and he talked about the coworkers he loved as family. When you arrived back at home he walked you to the door. Had it been anyone else you would have assumed that was a ploy to stay the night, but you felt like you’d known Spencer much longer than you had, and were certain that was not why. So you let him, and when you reached the door, his hand finding yours once again, he pulled you in for the best first kiss. 

His lips were a little bit chapped, you’d seen him biting his inner lip a few times when he got especially bashful, so you kind of expected it, but his hands found your face, and his touch was so reassuring it melted all of your nerves away. When he pulled away, you were both beet red and smiling. 

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” 

“I’d like that, as long as you don’t have to go away for work.” You were on cloud nine, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up for a second date to happen tomorrow, his work schedule was unpredictable, and you wanted to be as prepared for that as possible.

“Dear god, I hope not. Tomorrow already feels far away. I’ll make reservations and I’ll take you to dinner? When would be an alright time to pick you up?” You wouldn’t usually like someone offering to drive you twice in a row, but Spencer didn’t even sound like he was offering, it was just a given. 

“I get off work at 6, so I could be ready at 7?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Goodnight Y/N” And with that he placed another kiss on your hand as you said goodnight, before he let go, and headed back to the parking lot.