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parkersbliss · 4 hours ago

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if you’re willing to, how about 141 reacting to you saying “no one will hear you scream”? i know they’d all play the biggest uno reverse card, especially gaz because he just has such a sweet face you wouldn’t expect it.

I am always willing to!!! anon thank you for blessing me with this. you're so right like don't threaten the military men who are masters of stealth, now that's asking for trouble...

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x reader

warnings: um, gaz threatening you? actually, all of them threatening you bc you threaten them

a/n: see me personally I would not mess with this. and certainly not price.

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requests open for tf141!

SEE TIKTOK HERE

—

Gaz:

It was easy to convince Kyle to come out here. In fact, he didn’t even think twice when you asked to go out on a hike. He had grabbed a light jacket, laced up his boots, and was out the door. He was an outdoorsman, after all, and any time he could spend with you was well spent. You weren’t going to hear an argument out of his pretty mouth.

It’s nicer this time of the year. Not too hot and not too cold with the leaves changing into the sunset colors. Honestly, you were glad you had come out here, even if it was because you had other intentions than some fresh air.

You were lagging behind Kyle, his hand flexing and calling for yours. You jog to grab his when you notice, swinging them as you approach a viewpoint.

You can overlook the area below you, coming up on a small cliff that showcases the changing leaves and sun. There’s a slight breeze that ruffles your hair, making the tips of your ears a little cold.

“It’s so beautiful,” Kyle breathes, taking in the view.

You nod, gazing out at the leaves tumbling in the wind. Then, with a practiced ease, you say: “No one would hear you scream out here.”

Kyle steps back from the edge, whipping around to look at you. “What?”

“What?” You ask dumbly.

“Don’t “what” me.” He points a finger at you. “I heard that shit.”

You step toward him, feeling guilty when you see his face. “Kyky-” you call.

“Nope!” He grabs something from his pocket, pointing it at you.

You put your hands on your hips, scoffing and stepping back. “You brought a taser?”

“And I’m not afraid to use it.” He continues to point the weapon at you as you take steps back. You were messing with your boyfriend, but your boyfriend was not messing with you.

“Babe, it was a joke!” You protest.

He narrows his eyes. “Oh, not so funny now, huh? No one could hear you scream.”

“Kyle!” You hiss at that, his point made.“Please put the taser away.”

“Please don’t threaten me,” he retorts, but relents and slips the taser back into his pocket.

“Why do you even have that?”

Kyle shrugs. “You never know. As you just proved.”

“Oh my god,” You said, walking back over to him tentatively. Once you’re close enough, he grabs your waist pulling you to his side. “Don’t ever say that shit again,” he whispers.

You glance at the taser in his pocket. “Lesson learned.”

Kyle smiles, kissing your cheek. “Ice cream?”

Ghost:

You take a deep breath, letting the crisp autumn air fill your lungs. It’s cold, cutting through the skin of your throat, yet at the same time it’s comforting. It’s much better than the humidity-laced air of summer at least. Where each breath you took felt like you inhaled oven air.

Simon glances over at you, cocking his head to silently ask what you were doing.

“Just taking in the air,” You said. “’s nice.”

He hums an agreement, walking along the stream you two were hiking. A few birds were chirping, leaves crunching under your boots, and the sound of water running over rocks. It’s a quiet you’re not used to from being in the military. That still doesn’t stop the idea from forming in your head.

“No one would hear you scream out here,” You muse, falling in step beside Simon. You say it casually, not looking at him. You act as if you had just asked where he wanted to get dinner tonight.

Simon, of course, is aware of everything. He stops walking, turning to you at an agonizingly slow pace. “Excuse me?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.” And continue along the trail.

He doesn’t follow you. You can tell when his footsteps aren’t echoing yours, a little slower and more steady. Instead, they fall silent on deaf ears. You can’t hear anything and the hair on the back of your neck stands up at the sudden stillness of the forest.

“Simon?” You call, turning to face him. And of course, he’s gone. You curse under your breath, spinning around to find him. You walk back to where he was, checking around the trees and the bushes. You shouldn’t threaten a lieutenant, the master of infiltration nonetheless. You peek around another tree, trying to get a view of him when a hand grabs your shoulder. You scream, throwing the hand off your shoulder and raising your fists. You come face to face with your boyfriend and drop your hands.

Simon stares at you, a deadpan look on his face with arms crossed. “What was that about no one hearing me or, should I say you scream?”

You swat at him. “It was a joke.”

“Damn right, it was. You think you could take me?” He begins walking again, offering his hand to you. He was a true gentleman even after he pulled that stunt. You really needed to learn to keep your eyes on him.

You lace your fingers together, sighing. “No.”

Simon is content with the answer, placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Let’s finish this hike without any other threats, hm, sweetheart?"

“It was a joke.”

“Mine wasn’t.”

“Simon—!”

Soap:

Johnny took convincing to go out for a walk. He was more inclined to spend his days on the couch, relaxing next to you. Not some boring “walk for fresh air.” He would argue he’d already gone on plenty of walks while deployed.

You dragged him out anyway, saying it’ll be good for him to do one without worrying about being shot at.

So here you are, on a quiet trail in your local park, pointing at the various colored leaves and their unique shapes.

“This is stupid,” Johnny said, kicking at a pinecone on the ground and sending it flying.

You roll your eyes, squeezing his hand, which was intertwined with yours in his jacket pocket. “You could humor me a bit.”

“What good would that do?”

You huff. “I actually quite like it out here.”

“‘m sure you do, love.”

You tap your chin with your free hand. An idea forming in your head to spice things up a bit. Or at least raise the stakes for your walk. “Like, no one would hear you scream out here, you know?” A mischievous grin curls on your lips as you look at Johnny with innocence.

“What?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. He knew what you said, just hadn’t quite processed the implications yet.

“I said, we can go get ice cream. As a peace offering.”

Johnny removes his hand from yours, taking a step back. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t want ice cream?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m actually tired. Thinking we should head back now.”

You jut your bottom lip out, enjoying the slight panic on his face. “Already?”

He spins on his heels. “Yep! Right now. Let’s go. Back in public. With people.” He urges, walking away from you at a brisk pace.

You laugh to yourself, jogging after him. He glances at you over his shoulder, clearly paranoid and you feel a little bad about it. His pace quickens and within seconds, he’s out of your line of sight and you sigh. Damn him.

You exit the trail, and back into the regular park, squinting your eyes to spot your boyfriend. You can’t find him anyway, which is weird because his mohawk makes him unmissable.

A hand taps your shoulder and you jump.

“Oh, relax,” Johnny said, holding out an ice cream cone for you. “We’re out of the woods now. Everyone would hear you scream here.”

You take the ice cream from him, glaring at him and his smug look as he remixes your words against you. “Not funny.”

“Now imagine how I felt. Except I wouldn’t really have a problem if people heard.”

“We’re going home.”

Johnny laughs madly, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “That’s all I wanted.”

Price:

You stand at the end of your hike, overlooking the view beneath you. The cliff dips into a valley, scattered with red and orange trees, the telltale sign of the approaching cold. The sun sits high in the sky, blessing you with a little warmth as the clouds drift through the breeze.

Price stands next to you, hands on his hips like a proud dad after completing the hike. He pushes his sunglasses to sit on his forehead, taking a deep breath.

“We should do this more often,” he said.

“We should,” you agree, watching a pair of hawks circle and dive. “It’s so peaceful out here.”

“So quiet,” Price added.

You hum. “No one would hear you scream.”

You knew the risk of saying something like that to your boyfriend, but you couldn’t help it. A little challenge for him.

Price doesn’t hesitate, he takes a step back from you, putting considerable distance between the two of you. His eyes scan the trees, the valley below, the space behind you — he’s clearly checking for any threats.

You take a step toward him and he holds up his hand. “No. Empty your pockets.”

“What?” You asked with a laugh.

“You wanna say shit like that? Empty your pockets,” He said again.

You stare at him, and you can see the serious look on his face. Within the minute you had uttered that sentence, you already regretted it. Leave it to John Price to take everything so seriously. Even when it was his girlfriend who could never hurt him. You sigh, dropping your phone, wallet, keys, tissues, and everything else. You stare at him. “Happy?”

“Hands up.”

“John!”

“Not hearing you out, darling.”

You begrudgingly raise your hands as he steps towards you, patting you down and inspecting the things you’ve dropped. “It was a joke.”

“Am I laughing?” His hands come to rest on your shoulders, squeezing them slightly. “Believe me, darling. You wouldn’t be able to scream before I drop you.”

You spin around to face him, a shocked look on your face. He had gotten you there. Price wouldn’t be stupid enough to let you make any noise.

“It was a joke,” He mocks you, a sly grin on his face.

You purse your lips, grabbing your things off the ground. “Point made.” Price grabs the rest of your belongings, handing them to you with that sweet smile of his.

“C’mon, let’s hike back down. We can go to your favorite sandwich place.” He places a hand on your back, leading you off the cliff.

“As long as you don’t slip poison into it.”

“No promises.”

-- END --

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thejoanofexy · 22 hours ago

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There’s 19 inches of snow outside my apartment right now. Over about 18 hours.

Thinking about Jean and Jeremy traveling north for a holiday, getting snowed in as friends. They have nothing to do but hang out. Read. Browse the internet. But that only gets them so far before Jeremy starts pulling up whatever free card games he can find online.

He gets as many downloadable “we aren’t really strangers” cards as he can and Jean treats it like an interrogation. Why does Jeremy want to know all of these deeply personal things (why does Jeremy need to know his favorite hot beverage?irrelevant) It’s none of his business, but he’s his captain, and he’s asking, so Jean should answer.

He finally snaps and asks why Jeremy wants to know, why any of this matters. How it’s gonna be used against him.

Jeremy’s eyes soften and he tells Jean he just wanted to pass the time. Jean can tell he’s lying and tells Jeremy so. Jeremy admits it’s because he really just has a crush on Jean. And wanted to know what he likes so he knew how to woo him better before asking him out.

Jean has to take time to process this before telling him he really likes hot chocolate. Jeremy makes them some and they sit by the fire and play the rest of the game in peace, before cuddling on the couch and falling asleep.

#these men #rot my brain #I love them #actually tho I am stuck in the snow maybe I’ll write #jerejean #Jeremy Knox #Jean Moreau #all for the game #the sunshine court

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cryptid-killjoy · 1 day ago

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Babyface was nodding like yeah what she said.

"Exactly."

He meant it though. He had not come to take her away. He'd gotten in the mind set before he stepped off the boat and he made up his mind when he gave Ellie his parting last words of just in case. He had no intentions of making Mazzie leave. He also had no intentions of making any decisions for Ellie. He was done thinking he knew what was best for anyone. That's what fucked things up.

Once both Ellie confirmed neither one of them were there to try and take her away Mazzie's body language started to relax. She still seemed at the ready, but after realizing zombies were on this island now that made sense to Babyface. He was just glad she started to talk to Ellie even if it wasn't to him right off.

"He's at the control center with the donkeys and our Papas."

Babyface's eyes bugged. "You mean the Coachman survived?"

"I didn't say that."

He glanced over at Ellie unsure what that meant.

"You mean? Honest John and Gideon? They're here?"

"Something like that. You'd be surprised who's here."

Mazzie was still focused on what Ellie said. How things went before. It made her stare at Babyface despite them saying they weren't going to try and make her leave.

"The Coachman's not happy with you. He was ready to give it all to you. He wants to know why we would trust you now?"

"I thought you said he didn't survive?"

"I didn't say that." Mazzie spoke stern and slow.

Babyface looked at Ellie more than once. He wasn't always the quickest on the uptake in these situations, but he understood something strange was going on.

A part of Babyface was hoping this conversation would play out a little differently. He was hoping for more wiggle room before he put all his cards on the table. He wasn't even completely sure he understood what was going on, but he decided he didn't care. He knew he made the decision before stepping foot off that boat. It had been in his head for months. If he ever had a do over, he knew what he would do. Here he was with a real do over.

"Look Mazzie, please. I don't know what the Beagle is going on here. I almost don't care. All I know is I wrecked it right up. I want to stay here with you like before. Just like we talked about. I don't want to be a donkey. I want to be like you. I'll stay. I'll take care of it with you."

He glanced back at Ellie with every other statement.

"You know I loved it here. That part doesn't have to change. What can I do to make it up to the island? I just want to stay with you."

That was the most disarming confrontation Mazzie could have been hit with. Several island boys started to pop up out of the candy woodworks as if the island itself understand the ramifications of the conversation.

"You'd stay?"

The half a dozen or so boys began to line up behind Mazzie. She waved a hand downward to stave them off. The island listened to Mazzie.

"Yes." He looked at Ellie again knowing this time around the boys were some extensions of the magic that was the Coachman's wife embodied in this cursed place. It was knowledge they didn't have the first time.

She looked passed Babyface to Ellie. "Is that why you're here too? You want to stay too?"

Babyface hadn't meant to put Ellie on the spot, but to him this was the only way. It was his only regret in his entire life. He didn't regret pulling the trigger, but he sure did regret fleeing the scene. He was so scared of becoming a donkey he left his crew behind.

Every Beagle for himself. Get out alive. That's all he could think at the time. Hindsight after juvie and seeing his mother made him realize there was another role a Beagle could take that was just admiral to the family. It was why he was in juvie. He took the fall. He was ready to take the fall now.

“It was probably some douchebag boy who was sent here,” Ellie said, resolutely. That, she could believe. There were so many here that were ripe for the taking. The boys that would probably come up with a game like ‘Poke the zombie’. Ten points if you get it’s stomach. Twenty points if you get it’s head.

She had her hand on Babyface’s back, the two of them using one another to steady themselves as they looked up at Maz. The hair was definitely a big change and Ellie thought back to the slumber parties that they had - how fun it would be to do something like that again and be girly and cute and braid each other’s hair now that hers was long enough. But that felt like a part of a Oogie-induced lifetime dream now. Making her yearn, making her nostalgic for something that probably would never happen.

All things considering - Mazzie’s reaction seemed fair from her point of view. They had tried to talk to her and Jax until they were blue in the face about how wrong the situation with the Magic Man was. But no words had been able to convince her. That’s why Babyface had did what he did. It seemed kind of foolish now to expect that just because their lives had changed - they had become street kids in other towns, misplaced, an orphan, losing a whole family - that her mind might have.

“We’re not here to take you away,” Ellie affirmed, with a nod of her head, her blue eyes trying to meet Mazzie’s darker ones. “We’ve just - we’ve been thinking about you. And how things went the last time around. And then there’s been this whole zombie epidemic and we had to leave New Orleans and -” She shrugged with a sigh. “It’s been this whole big thing.”

She looked up at the candy-canes again, that Mazzie had been climbing, and then asked one of the many questions that had a hold on her heart right now.

“Where is Jax?"

#babyfacexellie #mazziexellie

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woozisguitar · 2 days ago

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Hii congratulations on the achievement 👏 🎉 can I request a joshua x reader headcannon where they're friends but have feelings for eachother and accidentally kiss . Thankyou ❤️

thank you <333 also this is so cutesy omg hope u like it requests for 200 celebration post: open

friend! joshua who met you on the first day of your freshman year and decided to stick by your side because "it's better to be confused together than alone."

friend! joshua who ended up being your closest friend for years, sticking by your side through thick and thin, a safety net you could fall back on.

friend! joshua who got you soup when you were sick, coffee before any important exams, drove you to your favorite burger joint after a bad breakup and let you ruin his shirt with your tears, always saying the same thing: "that's what friends are for."

friend! joshua who you started to have feelings for but decided to push them down for the sake of your friendship.

friend! joshua who, unbeknownst to you, felt the same way since freshman year, holding onto the same reason that your friendship mattered more and he could never lose you.

friend! joshua who invited you to his friend’s party to celebrate finishing another year. he didn’t expect you to dress up for it, his eyes widening when he saw you walk in wearing his favorite blue dress. you scanned the crowd till your eyes met his and you gave him your brightest smile. when you got closer, joshua was so glad for the loud thumping bass, otherwise he was sure you'd hear his heart pounding in his chest.

friend! joshua who pulled you next to him when mingyu suggested playing a round of suck and blow. his friends thought they were doing him a favor, little did they know you were a pro at this game. friend! joshua who made it through every round with you and now there was just you, him, and another girl.

friend! joshua who freaked out when the card slipped between the two of you, taking a few seconds to realize that your lips were pressed to his.

friend! joshua who was disappointed when you pulled back and laughed it off, opting to play other games. he tried not to think about this accidental kiss, but it was hard not to when this was all he had been dreaming of for the past years. he tried to follow you around but noticed how you came up with an excuse to avoid him.

friend! joshua who suggested taking you home after he saw you throw back a few too many shots. he knew you outdid yourself and would regret this tomorrow, but right now your safety was his peak priority.

friend! joshua who ignored your drunk protests and insisted you drink water and sober up. he led you to his car, making sure you were secured properly before driving in the direction of your house. friend! joshua who made sure you were sober enough to know what happened and where you were. it would kill him if this was his only shot with you and you didn’t remember a thing.

friend! joshua who freaked out when you asked him to kiss you again, insisting you're too drunk to remember a thing. "shua, i promise i'm sober enough for this, but if you don’t kiss me right now, i might actually die."

friend! joshua who slowly cupped your cheek, giving you enough time to back out, until you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and firmly pressed your lips against his.

friend! joshua who knew the second he kissed you, he was going to be addicted for life. the taste of your lip gloss was going to haunt him in his dreams till the end of time. he freaked out when you pulled back, unsure of what this would mean for the two of you. you gave him a sweet kiss on his cheek and told him to pick you up at 7 tomorrow evening.

friend! joshua who made a mental note to get mingyu lunch as a thank you after dropping you off. but first, he had a date to plan and a heart to win.

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the-au-thor · 1 day ago

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ʙᴀʙʏꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴜɴ | ᴘᴛ.14 | ᴇ.ᴍ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: everything is coming up roses (not really)

Cynthia and Gareth get married. You look stunning, Mun's hot.

Everything is gonna explode in your faces.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fey!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Click here

[¹][²][³][⁴][⁵][⁶][⁷][⁸][⁹][¹⁰][¹¹][¹²][¹³][¹⁴][¹⁵]

You climbed the stairs of the massive château, carrying your high boots in hand, and walked down the hallway. Before you even opened the door, you called out Eddie's name, pushing it open and stepping inside. They were about to play the final dance of the night, and you weren’t about to waste it searching for him. He’d mentioned going to the bathroom about fifteen minutes ago.

You’d been with him long enough to know that even if Eddie was setting some kind of bathroom world record, he wouldn’t take this long. So, with a slight huff, you shoved the door open and entered the room. The lamps on the bedside tables were on, casting a soft light across the space. That’s when you saw him, sitting on the bed, his profile illuminated.

He was hunched forward, elbows resting on his thighs, his hands holding his trusty notebook open.

“What…?” you murmured, catching your breath with a half-smile. “What are you doing with my notebook, Munson?” you asked, your voice teasing but tinged with reproach.

Eddie lifted his face to look at you, his expression fractured by a furrowed brow. There was something there—a mix of worry and maybe even disapproval.

“Your notebook fell on the floor,” he explained, pulling a card from the open pages. You recognized it instantly; Will had given it to you in Glastonbury after offering you that job. You’d tucked it into the notebook, trying not to stress about a decision you already knew, deep down, that you’d made but hadn’t been ready to face.

“Fey,” he said, his voice heavy, “I need to know why you’ve got Will Walsh’s number tucked away in here.”

You swallowed hard, bracing yourself. This was the start of a tough conversation, and a wedding wasn’t exactly the perfect setting for discussing your future with your partner. Everything had been going so smoothly—of course, something like this would come up now.

You’d arrived in France a few days ago, and right after the second concert in Paris, everyone traveled to Château du Rivau. A place originally built as a medieval fortress, steeped in history—literally—from the Hundred Years' War onward. It was almost spiritual, as Cynthia had put it, to add this union to the château’s storied past.

“Not that you can compare a rock star’s wedding to Joan of Arc’s cavalry,” Robin had whispered in your ear, “but I get her point.”

Robin, Steve, and Vickie had arrived to Paris with you. The rest of the psrty would arrived to the Wedding. Eddie, being the amazing friend he was, had ignored their protests and insisted on covering the best suite and all the meals and parties for them. Steve had even reconnected with an old friend working as a chef at one of the restaurants they visited. Robin assured you that this one was strictly a friend, which somehow made the whole thing even more romantic. Everything was still fresh, but Robin was convinced this could lead somewhere meaningful.

“This place, Fey… have you seen it?” Eddie had murmured, collapsing onto the bed you’d share for the week. “I could write an entire album here. Just give me a pencil, a tape recorder, and lock me in with you.”

He’d reached out, gently tugging you down beside him.

You’d followed naturally, curling up almost on top of him, resting your head on his chest and listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re writing in the middle of a huge tour,” you reminded him, tracing slow, idle patterns along his side. Your hand skimmed over the fabric of his Judas Priest shirt, your fingers occasionally catching on the faint ridges of old scars beneath.

“These days are for Garret and Cynthia,” you added softly, not looking up. “Maybe take a little break?”

The rooms in the château were limited. The new owners, who’d taken over in 1992, were still restoring parts of the property, leaving some wings unavailable for guests. That meant sharing rooms was a necessity. The group didn’t mind; they’d once all crammed into Mike’s basement, and nothing could ever be worse than that.

Eddie had kissed the back of your neck in silent acknowledgment before eventually drifting off to sleep. You’d pressed a kiss to his cheek, easing out of bed with practiced care not to wake him.

You wandered through the château’s winding halls until you reached the rear gardens. The courtyard had been restored, and a few gardeners were tending the trees and flowerbeds, giving the space a refreshed glow.

You hugged yourself, taking in the view until Robin’s voice interrupted your reverie. She and Vickie approached, arms wrapped around each other, both smiling as they studied you.

“What?” you asked, noticing the curiosity sparkling in their eyes.

"You look worried. Didn’t Cynthia hire a wedding planner?" Vickie asked, her tone genuinely concerned.

Robin let out a sigh.

"Don’t tell me she roped you into organizing everything?"

You laughed, relaxing your arms.

"Oh, she tried," you said with a half-smile. "But I’m pretty sure I found her a solid planner who’s going to handle all her requests."

Robin let go of Vickie, tilting her head at you.

"Then why do you look like someone peed in your cereal?"

You saw Vickie try to elbow her, but it didn’t seem to faze Robin at all. The two of them stared at you, their curiosity piercing. You hesitated for a few seconds before finally speaking.

"You two work in the music industry, right?" you asked, scratching at your scalp.

"Yeah, well, I’m in music production," Robin started, "and Vickie handles all the boring stuff."

Vickie crossed her arms, her mouth tightening into a silent growl.

"Legal. I handle all the legal stuff," she corrected while Robin nodded and gestured like, Yeah, I said that.

You took a moment, looking down at the ground before meeting their eyes again. "Good enough for me," you admitted, starting to pace. A step here, a step there. "And I’m trusting in the concept of confidentiality—especially from…" you pointed briefly at Vickie, who nodded in understanding.

Stopping in front of them, hands still on your hips, you exhaled sharply. Then, with a slight pout, you finally said it:

"About a month ago, Will Walsh came up to me at Glastonbury…"

Robin’s grin spread like wildfire, sharp and knowing.

"I see you remember that, Robin," you said dryly.

"Of course I do," she shot back, like it was obvious.

"He told me he’s leaving his brother."

Vickie gasped, placing a hand on Robin’s shoulder as if that single motion could communicate a flood of emotion.

"Oh my God," she said first. "Robs…"

"It’s happening," Robin said, nodding, just as shocked. "He’s leaving that jackass!" She spoke with such conviction, closing her eyes like she was savoring the thought.

"The musical balance is finally going to be restored," Vickie said with a smile.

Okay, so clearly they were fans of The Lull, but like the rest of the world, not fans of Freddie Walsh.

"So… back to my story," you teased, amused by their reactions. "Will made me a not-so-tiny offer to become his…"

"MANAGER! YOU’RE GOING TO BE HIS FREAKING MANAGER!" Robin screamed, jumping up and down.

Your eyes widened in panic as you looked around, rushing to cover her mouth. "Vickie, what part of confidentiality did she…? Oh, crap, do these walls echo, or what?"

Vickie massaged Robin’s shoulder casually, smiling.

"Give her a second," she said with a shrug. "It’s the excitement. She has to let it out, or she’ll get migraines, you know?"

Sure enough, Robin’s volume eventually lowered to a more manageable level.

"Muh-muf-tajk-it," she mumbled against your hand. You let go."Take it. Take the job. What are you even talking about? It’s your dream!" Robin exclaimed insistently. "What’s the problem?"

"The problem…" you murmured, looking between them, meeting their eyes in turn. "…is that I haven’t told Eddie. And Will’s business card has been burning a hole in my notebook—and my conscience—for weeks. Eddie keeps asking why I haven’t signed Robert’s new contract, and I haven’t found the right time to tell him. It never feels like the right time."

The three of you fell silent. Robin seemed to be deep in thought, mulling over the best way to respond. Vickie, however, was already smiling, her opinion at the ready.

"Oh, honey," Vickie started gently, "there’s no such thing as the right time. You have to make the time."

Robin nodded. "And it’s not like you’re telling him you’re breaking up with him or that you’ve…"

"I don’t know, caught a rare and deadly disease," Vickie finished, placing her hand over yours. "Sure, it might be a little weird for him at first. Eddie’s pretty competitive when it comes to your…"

"Attention," Robin interjected, clearly finding the right word before Vickie could.

"Yes! Attention. Exactly," Vickie agreed. "And yeah, it might feel a little strange, but if there’s anyone who’s ready to be your biggest fan and see you shine, it’s Eddie. Remember how he reacted at Steve’s party?"

"He was so mad about underestimating your talent and how Robert was overworking you," Robin recalled with a smirk. "He’ll be fine. You just need to tell him."

You nodded, absorbing their advice, and reached a conclusion.

"Maybe not during the wedding, though…"

They nodded in unison.

"Definitely not during the wedding," they agreed.

You smiled. "I’ll tell him after, then. Right? It’s not crazy to say yes to this. Is it?"

"It’s not crazy," Vickie reassured you.

"And I’m not leaving Eddie. I’m just working for someone else, and he’ll understand."

Robin scoffed. "Eddie? Of course."

That evening, dinner was served in an enormous dining hall that had been recently renovated. It was almost too ostentatious—tall ceilings with elaborate frescoes, chandeliers that looked like they belonged in a museum—but you knew it would make for a great story someday, the kind you'd laugh about with friends: "Remember when we had dinner in that over-the-top château?"

The band had asked you to hire cooks for the days they'd be staying, and the château's owners had recommended staff who could help with anything you might need. The meal was lavish, course after course arriving as the sound of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter filled the room.

As you ate, you caught Dustin watching you from across the table. His expression was thoughtful, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

When Eddie leaned over and offered you a taste of his dessert, you didn’t hesitate. You took a small bite from his spoon, then instinctively reached out with a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth. He smiled at you, that genuine, easy smile that lit up his face in a way that still caught you off guard sometimes.

“That,” Dustin said, breaking the moment but not the warmth of it, “is exactly what I was talking about that night by the lake.” His tone was soft, a quiet reflection. “Seeing him like this? It makes me happy. Makes sense, you know?”

Eddie chuckled softly, brushing off Dustin’s sentimental tone, but his hand found yours under the table, squeezing it just enough to make you feel what words couldn’t say.

The sounds of the wedding preparations echoed outside. You and the rest of the girls had gathered in Nancy and Jonathan’s room to get ready. Cynthia had been sweet enough to hire a stylist for herself, her bridesmaids, and all of you, even though she didn’t have to.

As you got dressed and had your makeup done, the girls talked about their dream weddings. Some of them saw it as a distant future; others, like Suzie, felt it was just around the corner—literally. You listened, amused, as they debated everything from family life to the ideal number of kids. Nancy wanted one, citing her career and the importance of giving a child quality attention. Suzie agreed but for simpler reasons; she’d grown up surrounded by siblings and craved personal space.

Robin and Vickie wanted “a ton,” laughing about a rainbow of kids from all walks of life.

You felt a bit out of place in the conversation. You hadn’t thought much about love, let alone a family. But for a moment—just a fleeting second—you pictured yourself in that kind of life.

The revelation hit like a gut punch, leaving you feeling both heavy and hollow. Was it the wedding atmosphere? Or the way Eddie’s face came so vividly to mind in that fleeting fantasy? Whatever it was, it terrified you.

The girls left the room one by one, their black dresses trailing behind them as they headed outside. The groomsmen were supposed to be wearing white, except for Gareth and Cynthia, who stuck to traditional attire.

As you stepped out of the room, you didn’t expect to find Eddie waiting for you.

He was dressed in white too, though his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, and his bow tie hung loose around his neck, giving him that effortlessly cool but maddeningly attractive vibe. His hair had been tied into a neat bun, styled just enough to look intentional while still keeping his edge.

The chain with the ring he always wore dangled from his neck, and his fingers were adorned with his usual array of oversized rings—including the one you’d given him in Denmark.

Your mouth opened, words tumbling out before you could stop them.

"What? Trying to outshine the groom?" you teased, not bothering to hide the fact that you were really looking at him—from his boots to his perfectly tousled hair.

But Eddie stayed quiet, doing the same to you.

It felt like his gaze burned wherever it landed, starting with your black platform boots and slowly trailing up to your exposed shoulders.

You laughed nervously. "What?" you asked again, as if the word could shield you from the intensity of his stare.

Eddie wasn’t going to let it slide. Leaning against the stone wall of the castle’s west wing, he let out an incredulous laugh and shook his head.

“Jesus Christ, Fey,” he muttered, disbelief dripping from his tone. “God…” His eyes lifted to the ceiling, as if pleading to the heavens instead of addressing you. Slowly, his gaze dropped again—fixing on you, then on the gift he’d given you, now draped perfectly on your figure.

“Hurricanes are gonna get their names from you,” he said, dragging his fingers over his mouth like he needed to stop himself from saying more. His eyes burned with an intensity that made your skin prickle as if he were physically touching you.

For a few seconds, silence stretched between you, heavy and electric. Then, as if he couldn’t bear it any longer, Eddie crossed the space and cupped your face, pulling you into a kiss.

You surrendered without hesitation, your body leaning into his like it was second nature. Only when your breath faltered did you manage to break away, gasping for air. Eddie didn’t seem to care. While you caught your breath, his lips continued their exploration—trailing kisses across your jaw and cheek, as if no inch of you could go unacknowledged.

“Munson…” you murmured, his lips dipping to your neck, setting off a rush of warmth that pooled in your core.

This. Wasn’t. Normal.

“Mmm?”

“Mun…” you laughed softly when he kissed the center of your chest, just above the edge of your black dress. His hands pressed into your lower back, pulling you against the cold stone.

“What the hell—” you managed, breathless, as his lips continued their downward path, dangerously close to challenging the fabric separating him from his goal.

“Fey,” he murmured against your skin, his lips returning to your neck like it was home. “Gareth doesn’t need me.”

“You’re his best man,” you reminded him, your voice tinged with both amusement and exasperation.

“He’ll forgive me.—Eventually,” Eddie replied, voice low, his hold on you unyielding.

“Babe, this is one of your best friends’ weddings. It can wait.”

“No, no, no,” he protested, shaking his head. “Fey, this moment—this—is going to slip away, and I can’t let that happen. Not now. Not like this.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze urgent, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“This damn dress. Oh, God,” he groaned, glancing up at the ceiling again like it might save him. “How the hell did I not think this through? You can’t wear that dress and look at me like that. Fey, how do you expect me to stand next to Gareth all night knowing you’re out here looking like trouble?”

You laughed, but it wasn’t all at him. His frustration mirrored your own, though he didn’t seem to realize how much of it you shared.

“It’s not going to slip away,” you reassured him, cupping his face and kissing him softly. “We’ll pick this up later, right where we left off.”

He seemed to understand then, the tension in his frame softening slightly. In the quiet corridor, Eddie pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead—a gesture so reverent it felt like a signature on invisible promises.

With a heavy sigh, he nodded, taking your hand firmly in his. When he finally let you go, it was with clear reluctance. You watched as he returned to the hall, positioning himself beside Big Rock and Jeff, ready to fulfill his role.

The Château stood like a timeless gem in the French countryside, its stone walls bathed in the soft glow of late afternoon sunlight. A long gravel path lined with meticulously trimmed hedges led to the grand entrance, where guests were already gathering. The theme was strikingly unconventional yet undeniably sophisticated—men dressed in pristine white suits, save for Gareth, who stood out in a classic black tuxedo. Women, draped in flowing black gowns of silk and velvet, created an ethereal contrast. Cynthia, radiant and otherworldly, was the exception among them.

Her blonde hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, catching the golden light. Her gown was a dream of white lace and satin, tailored to perfection. The neckline dipped tastefully, and the train swept gracefully behind her as she walked, a vision of timeless elegance. In her hands, she carried a bouquet of pale orchids and roses, a touch of white amidst the dark palette.

The ceremony took place in the château’s rose garden, framed by rows of perfectly pruned hedges and trellises heavy with climbing roses. A soft string quartet played in the background, their music weaving through the gentle murmur of the guests. Garret, standing at the altar beneath a wrought-iron arch adorned with white roses and greenery, could barely hide the emotion in his eyes as Cynthia approached.

The reception was held in the grand ballroom, its walls adorned with intricate carvings and chandeliers dripping with crystal. Long tables covered in white linen and accented with black centerpieces—candles, delicate vases filled with lilies—gave the room a timeless, cinematic charm. Champagne flowed freely as friends and family toasted the couple, their laughter filling the air.

The black-and-white theme extended to every detail—the towering wedding cake was a stunning black fondant masterpiece, adorned with white sugar flowers, and even the dance floor was a checkered marble expanse. As the evening deepened, Cynthia and Garret shared their first dance beneath the glittering chandeliers, their silhouettes perfect contrasts against the black-and-white backdrop.

It was a wedding for the ages, unforgettable in its bold elegance and the palpable love that filled every corner of the château.

Eddie’s eyes were on you throughout the entire ceremony—those deep brown eyes locked on yours, intense, as if silently repeating the promise you’d made to each other earlier. You felt it low in your stomach, a warmth building with every glance. There was no way you’d make it through the night without Eddie’s hands on every inch of you. You knew it. You felt it. And at this point, you didn’t care—you wanted it. That desire felt amazing, not obscene or easy to dismiss, and you both seemed to agree. You prolonged the feeling as much as possible: through dinner, the toasts, the cake, and the dance floor.

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom,” Eddie announced, his breath warm against your neck as he pulled his hands away from your waist.

“Come on, Munson!” Steve groaned from his spot on the dance floor, arms wrapped around her famous friend you’d barely had the chance to greet before the ceremony started.

“I’ll be back,” Eddie called over the music, leaning in to kiss you quickly before walking away.

Max and Jane pulled you to the dance floor, urging you to join them. You’d kicked off your platform boots, dancing barefoot now, the cool tiles grounding you as you twirled and swayed. You barely felt your feet, but you wouldn’t stop until the celebration officially ended and everyone had retired to their rooms. Two more songs passed, and Eddie still hadn’t returned. A flicker of worry crept in—you imagined him a little too drunk, lost somewhere in the château’s half-renovated wing, buried under scaffolding and rubble.

When you finally found him, of course, it wasn’t at all what you’d expected. That conversation you’d planned to have after the wedding? It had come early.

You didnt' plan to throw it at him like this. Not in the quiet tension of that room in that dark and big castle. Not in the middle of a wedding.

“Feywild,” Eddie’s voice cut through your thoughts like a jagged blade, pulling you back into the present. You turned toward him, only to meet the weight of his accusing glare. In his hand was Will Walsh’s business card, the number you’d tucked away scrawled across the back like a secret exposed. “Why the hell do you have Will’s personal number in your planner?”

The air between you felt electric, suffocating. You frowned, struggling to suppress the unease crawling up your spine.

“Sounds like you think I shouldn’t,” you murmured, stepping closer. The ache in your chest deepened as you kicked off your black boots, their heavy thud lost in the charged silence. Reaching for the planner in his hands, you tried to keep your voice steady. “What is this, some kind of rule now?”

His eyes didn’t soften—if anything, they darkened, sharp as broken glass. “You know that’s not what I’m asking, Fey,” he said tightly, his jaw twitching with the effort to hold himself together. “I just... I thought you said you weren’t taking that offer, that Freddie was a walking disaster. So why the fuck keep Will’s number if you’re not planning to take the job?”

You felt your pulse quicken as his words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken accusations. Your tongue darted over your dry lips, a nervous reflex, and you reached out to pluck the card from his grasp. It felt flimsy in your fingers, weightless compared to the storm brewing in the room.

“I wasn’t gonna talk about this until after the wedding,” you admitted softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your voice wavered, and you hated the vulnerability it betrayed. “Will’s leaving his brother to go solo, and he—he offered…”

“You’re leaving me for Will Walsh?” Eddie’s voice cracked, and for a fleeting moment, the sharp edge of anger faltered, replaced by something raw and pained. It hit you like a punch to the gut.

“Are you joking? No,” you said quickly, though your heart clenched at the disbelief etched across his face. “I’m not leaving you. I meant the job—he asked me to be his manager.”

The words hung in the air, but they didn’t seem to reach him. His jaw tightened, and his gaze flickered away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “And when exactly did you decide this?”

The question felt like a blade, twisting. You could feel the weight of his disappointment, the unspoken hurt laced into every syllable. It wasn’t fair. His gaze, searching and relentless, bore into you, and you felt a flush of heat rise to your face.

“I haven’t decided anything yet,” you replied carefully. “I’ve been weighing the pros and cons, that’s all.”

Eddie let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp enough to make your chest ache. “Nah, Fey. You decided the second he gave you the offer. Otherwise, why haven’t you signed the contract Robert sent you? Huh?”

The question came like a slap, and for a moment, you just stared at him, stunned. Blinking rapidly, you felt the sting of unshed tears. “I haven’t signed anything because I’m still figuring things out! Why would I sign something if I’m not sure yet?”

“How long has this been on the table?” he pressed, his tone sharp enough to cut. There was a challenge in his voice, a dare for you to lie. But you didn’t.

You sucked in a breath, the admission sticking in your throat. “Since Glastonbury,” you finally confessed, your voice barely audible.

Eddie’s laugh was humorless, his smile a mere shadow of something real. “Since fucking Glastonbury?” he repeated, and the hurt in his voice was unmistakable. “And you couldn’t find a single damn moment to tell me? Why the hell did you hide it, Fey?”

Your heart twisted painfully at the look in his eyes—an agonizing blend of betrayal and disbelief. “Because I knew you’d react like this!” you shot back, the words escaping before you could stop them.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m betraying you!”

Eddie’s hand shot out to point at your planner, his voice rising with every word.

“And keeping it from me isn’t betrayal?” he snapped. “Will Walsh, Fey. Will freaking Walsh.”

“I thought the problem was Freddie, not Will,” you countered, your own voice beginning to rise.

“It’s all the same!” Eddie shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his anger. “You’re leaving me for Will Walsh.”

The accusation sent a wave of frustration surging through you, and you rolled your eyes, the motion as sharp and deliberate as your words. “So this isn’t about when I chose to tell you, is it? It’s about me working for someone else.” Your voice trembled with the effort to keep your emotions in check, but there was no mistaking the bite behind your words. “See? I knew it. This is exactly why I said we needed to keep work and our relationship separate—to avoid this. And now, you’re being completely fucking unfair.”

“Unfair?” Eddie barked out a bitter laugh, the sound so cold it sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes burned with something darker now—something dangerous.

“Yes, unfair!” you shot back, your frustration spilling over. “You were the one who got drunk at that party and told me I deserved more than this job. So why is it, the moment I get an opportunity that matches my skills, you take it so personally?” You crossed your arms, a defiant gesture, as your voice rose in pitch and intensity. “What is it, Eddie? Do you actually want me here because you love me, or because you’re so used to me saving your ass you don’t know how to live without it?”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, Eddie just stared at you, his lips parted like he wanted to respond but couldn’t find the words. His silence only stoked the fire inside you.

“Fey, I’m warning you. Don’t start throwing accusations at me—”

“No, no. Don’t you dare turn this around on me,” you cut him off, your anger surging like a tidal wave. “You’re the one who started with the accusations. I get it, maybe I should’ve told you sooner, but your reaction is so completely over the top. I’m not fucking leaving you, Eddie! I promised I wouldn’t, and I’m not. I’m just changing jobs. Is that really so goddamn horrible?”

“Yeah, it is,” he shot back, his voice trembling with emotion. His hand gripped the back of a chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Will’s going solo. He’s gonna be neck-deep in backlash from his brother’s fans, and you think you’ll have time for a relationship? You’ll be launching your career just like he’s launching his.”

“And what?” you challenged, stepping closer. “I’m supposed to give up on my dreams because you’re scared we won’t spend enough time together? Your tour ends in a couple of months. We’ll make it work. We’ll adapt.”

Eddie started shaking his head before you even finished, his curls bouncing with the movement. His disbelief was almost palpable, and it was like you’d been stabbed.

“For fuck’s sake, Munson!” you burst out, throwing your hands in the air. “Do you even realize how happy it makes me to see you succeeding? So why the hell can’t I expect the same from you? I don’t want to walk behind you, Eddie. I want to walk beside you. Can’t you see that?”

For a moment, his gaze dropped to the floor, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but heavy, weighted with resignation. “You won’t be walking beside me, Fey. You’ll be walking away. You’re leaving.”

You let out a hollow, bitter laugh, the sound echoing in the small space. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut—he wasn’t speaking as your boyfriend anymore. This was your boss talking now.

“I can train someone else,” you offered, though the words tasted sour on your tongue.

“Not in the middle of a world tour! Are you insane? Do you really think anyone could fill your fucking shoes?”

You shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was hired because you couldn’t stay out of trouble. But since we landed in Europe, you’ve been focused. No incidents, no drama. You don’t need me, Eddie. Not anymore.”

He stared at you, and in that moment, the raw hurt in his eyes nearly undid you. “You always wanted to leave, didn’t you?” he said quietly, his voice shaking with barely contained emotion. “Admit it. You’ve had one foot out the door since the moment you realized your heart was involved.”

The accusation hit like a slap, and you felt your chest tighten as you fought back the tears welling in your eyes. “And what about you, Munson?” you shot back, your voice breaking. “You’re so scared of being abandoned that you can’t love me the way I deserve. You’re so wrapped up in your own feelings, you don’t even see mine. What am I to you, Eddie? Your safety net? Your little fairy, flitting around to make your life easier?”

“Fey…” His voice cracked, and you saw the tears in his eyes, but they weren’t sadness—they were fury, a storm you weren’t sure either of you could weather.

“Don’t call me that,” you whispered, stepping back as he reached for you. The distance felt unbearable, but you couldn’t let him close the gap—not this time.

“Don’t go, Fey,” he pleaded, his voice breaking.

Your chin trembled, and for a moment, you hated how fragile you felt under his gaze. “This was a mistake. We were never ready for this. You need me more than you love me, and I love you more than I need you.” Your fingers brushed over his as you took his hand from your face, the cool metal of his rings grounding you for a fleeting second. “I quit, Munson,” you said firmly. “And this... us... it’s over. We don’t know how to make this work, and if we keep trying, we’ll destroy each other.”

“You’re fucking running away, Feywild,” he accused, his voice raw with desperation.

You nodded, tears finally spilling over as your heart shattered. “Yeah. And you’re scared, Eddie. We’re both just doing what we have to to survive.”

#rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson series #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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superbat-lmao · 2 days ago

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In a family full of detectives, the Bats must have each come across situations that absolutely stumped them. Especially given the fact a lot of them have dealt with alien threats, magic, and meta humans.

So I like to imagine that all of them would hate those dinner party murder mystery games. Because they’re too easy. But they hate them in the way they hate new Lexcorp tech, they know exactly what could be fixed to make it actually functional. Or in this case, actually a mystery.

The struggle comes from deciding who is the one writing the mystery and who’s the one solving it. Because all of them are detectives in their own right and would get a kick out of this kind of enrichment.

Because Bruce would get a kick out a group birthday present from his kids where everyone is at the manor playing a character that severely contrasts their own personalities but is still meant to be frustrating for him. And the Batkids had trouble deciding at first who to make the murderer, trying to determine which kid Bruce would be most uncomfortable accusing of murder, even as a game.

Tim’s murder mystery would involve a lot of orchestration from Babs. He asked for the hardest mystery they could think of, so Babs has fabricated digital footprints, the Batkids stealth their way across the globe and he has to play a life sized game of Carmen Sandiego trying to track down his leads.

By the time it’s Dick’s then to solve a murder mystery, the Titans have found out about the games and get roped into playing. He’s also the only one who solves an actual murder alongside the fake case, making a realization about one of the cold case files he’s been working on in his off time.

For Cass’s murder mystery, none of the players are given information to conceal. They wrote narratives for each character to have committed the murder and then had a blind selection of the story line so that none of the players would know if their character did it. It’s like Clue, Cass has to check her deductions against a sealed card containing the answers. It was the only way they could think of stumping her with their body language.

Jason’s has Alfred’s involvement written all over it. Yes, the detective work is an amalgamation of the Batfamily’s efforts, but Alfred makes sure that certain character relationships and motivations parallel pieces from classic literature. It’s a trip down memory lane and all of the books that Jason read during his childhood at the manor and Alfred does his best to make him sentimental about it as part of the misdirection that Alfred’s character is the murderer. It almost works.

Steph’s murder mystery involves magic and aliens. She has a lot of practice solving day-to-day crimes so the family puts together the most absurd and abstract space and magic related case they can. It’ll flex some of her muscles when coming up against irregularity but it was also crafted to make her laugh. After all, who would have imagined there’s a species of alien out there allergic to waffles? It’s monotonous to face that same threats of muggings, trafficking, smuggling, murder, and other frequent Gotham crimes. Sometimes, you have to mix it up and remember reality can be absurd as well as commonplace.

Duke’s murder mystery is part of his “onboarding” into the batfamily. It relies on key observations from game-changing cases that the Bats have worked over the years that Duke wasn’t around for. He takes point during the day and helps out with larger cases, but it’s his first real test of handling the detective work of a multi-rogue level case by himself. And he’s good, breezes through things that had tripped up Dick or Tim during their Robin years but still finds ways to work through the parts that have him stumped.

Damian’s murder mystery is similar to Tim’s in that it is transnational and involves several famous and unknown art museums. It requires a lot of very specific information to uncover forgeries, complicated motivations, different layers of interrelatedness. It challenges him to think from specific details to connecting big picture movements and motivations of individuals and groups. Art was chosen as a through-point so that he would have an excuse to view galleries he had mentioned previously while still posing a challenge. It was a shock to more than just Damian when everyone realized Talia had agreed to play the red-herring.

Barbara’s murder mystery mixes several generations of technology. There are several layers of converting analog tech and different types of digital tech that tests her knowledge of the limitations of pieces of technology over the ages. It also brings her back into the field for recon in some creative ways since each of the Bats is a character and not able to do investigative work on her behalf. She solves her case the fastest of any of the Bats not because it was an inadequate challenge, but because she delegated her tasks as Oracle to Bruce and Tim and was able to devote 100% of her capabilities to solving this one case as opposed to her insane level of multitasking she’s usually operating at.

Alfred’s is also contained within the manor and treated similarly to an actual murder mystery. Everyone gets a kick out of him playing the part of the detective but slowly they begin to realize that some of the ways he conducts questioning witnesses or makes deductions is just slightly off from how Bruce does things. At first they seem to think Alfred’s putting his own spin on Bruce’s procedures but they begin to figure out that he’s following MI6’s standard operating procedures. They also realize that a lot of the Bats operating procedures are derivatives of different MI6 protocols. Clearly they’ve been updated or altered, but it’s all foundational, as though Alfred is writing the rule book before their eyes. It’s immediately obvious where the World’s Greatest Detective gets it from.

#jason todd #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #alfred pennyworth #duke thomas #batfamily #i absolutely do not understand duke’s powers or how to pose an interesting murder mystery centered around them #however i think each case has things meant to stump the detective and things they’re meant to get a kick out of #bruce wants to see all of his kids together and they’re all on their A-game for lying to batman the crime scene is meticulous #after everyone else’s more intensive cases they decide to do one for bruce featuring the justice league as a form of training #but it’s clearly orchestrated by the batfam and carried out by the league there’s scripts and everything #they’re investigating the murder of local bludhaven hero nightwing #he laughs about the answer for weeks after uncovering superman to be the murderer

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pubes-xxx3 · 3 days ago

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i haven't written fanfics in forever but this came to me in a dream after seing more and more Tom Taylor/Cregan content.

i'm not a native speaker and i'm not willing to go to length to write proper english, so this is all i can offer.

this fic is loosely inspired by my own backpacking trip where i was stuck in a train somewhere in austria and things would've been so much better if they ended up like this:

A Game of UNO

everybody has had a crush on a stranger on public transport, right? this is a story about how briefly meeting one of the most handsome men ever has turned your life upside down (always wanted to use that cringe sentence somehow lol)

warnings: a bit of smut, fingering, cunnilingus, handjob, blowjob, semi-public 'sex'

words: ~8.5k

this is set in the modern world, somewhereon the tracks of eastern europe.

also loosely inspied by this story from toms insta because if that man was sitting in front of me in a train, i would forget myself

https://x.com/tomtaylorfiles/status/1832120778034237528?s=19

you struggled as you tried to squeeze past multiple other patrons trying to find an empty seat, your backpack getting caught on door handles or in tight spaces as you tried to be as little of a nuisance as possible.

it was only your second week of backpacking, yet you already had enough of it. currently traveling from croatia to slovenia, you were already struggling with the scorching august heat.

it was hot.

you felt sticky.

your travel-buddy injured himself and had to cut your backpacking trip short.

the last thing the universe could grant you was a decent seat near an open window, preferably without anyone getting into close proximity to you.

just as you finished that thought you reached the end of the train wagon.

an annoyed sigh left your lips as you tried to shimmy around, your backpack trapping you once again in the narrow hallway leading past the secluded compartments of the train.

once you managed to make a 180° you were met with blue eyes from the other end of the hallway.

most people managed to find some place to sit, so you were able to get a clear view of the tall brunette smiling at you.

“no seats?” he asked, and you shake your head. “nothing available i fear…” you said as he approached you, double checking the seating-situation through the glass doors of the compartments on his way over to you.

“i guess we’ll have to take the floor then” he said as he hauled his own backpack off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a thump loud enough to make you fear he put a hole in the floor of the old train.

you eye him carefully as he opens one of the many zippers of the backpack to pull out some random cardgame “you know how to play?”

by now it’s obvious that he does not plan on enjoying the train ride separately, so much for nobody getting into close proximity.

you shake your head.

“i only know mau mau…” you admit ashamed.

his confused eyes met yours as he was about to settle on the floor, his lips pulling into a smirk.

“what, like a cat’s noise?”

you sigh again as you struggle to take your backpack off, “no… I mean it does sound like it, but it's a lot like UNO. just with different cards.”

as you finally managed to let your bag fall to the floor, you let out an annoyed huff before you dropped to the floor yourself, propping your back against your tightly packed luggage.

“i would show you how to play but my brother took the deck of cards with him”

“where is your brother?” the strange man asks as he sits down as well, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscular thighs bulged under his linen shorts.

“had to take a plane home.” you tell him

“we wanted to backpack through the EU together to celebrate his graduation but the idiot broke his foot on a hike not even a week after we left home.” you keep on rambling.

while you were talking the guy in front of you started to dig through his backpack without lifting his gaze from yours.

“well, i’m sorry to hear that. hope he’s having a quick recovery.”

you can only nod as you watch random stuff from his bag fall in his lap as he’s going deeper into it.

“i’m y/n by the way, sorry for blubbering around.”

“it’s fine. i’m cregan” he answers as he triumphantly pulls another cardgames’ box from gis luggage before placing it between you on the floor “nice to meet you!”

as you realized what he’d searched his bag for you couldn’t help but smile “i thought since you knew a game like UNO, might as well try the real thing.”

nodding and smiling at him, you grab the deck and start shuffling the cards while he stuffs the few stray items back into his backpack.

“may i ask where you’re from? i’m guessing the UK but i’m not sure… i’m not that great with accents” you say as you lay out the cards for each of you.

“well, i guess its not that hard to tell in my case” he laughs “i’m from northern england”

“so scottish?”

“not that far up north”

he smirks at you and you can’t help but laugh, his eyes wandering over your frame as you’re distracted with sorting your cards. he does the same, laying down a red 7 on the foundation card.

“your turn”

“IN WHAT UNIVERSE ARE YOU ALLOWED TO PUT TWO BLACK CARDS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER?”

his loud voice erupts through the train. it’s not the first time either, so at this point a few other travelers peak through the glassdoors to glare at you.

“what do you mean?” you laugh, acting innocent as he rambles about rules of the game you “clearly didn’t know or at least didn’t care about”

by now you were at the sixth round of the game and you had multiple disagreements about certain rules. the first few times were accidental, as you really did play a bit different than him, but by now it was out of principle.

the way his eyebrows carved into a deep frown each time, his hands frantically flapping around as he explains how fundamentally wrong you are with no real vigor to it: it was endearing to watch.

“i’m sorry cregan, but that's how i was taught to play” you shrug “it’s just like last time”

his lips are pressed into a tight line as he looks up at you again “it’s alright” he sighs as he puts down his last card “because i would’ve won anyways”

your mouth falls open as he snickers to himself, collecting the cards from the floor and plucking your remaining stack from your hands.

“one more round? i have to get off in two stops” he asks as he shuffles the deck once again

“sure” you smile, even though you would prefer it if he stayed.

the next stop comes and multiple people get off, as this is the last stop before crossing the border to slovenia.

a frown forms on your face as the first fat drops of rain hit the windows and the sky darkens considerably.

the rails snaked themselves through the scenic mountains of the balkans for quite some time now, but the sudden change of weather made the rocky slopes loom over you scarily, as if the sky was trapping you in and crushing you in the valley of two mountains.

the rain got heavier as you left the last town behind and it took only a few minutes before the first thunder erupted from the skies.

UNO was the last thing on your mind right now and cregan seemed to notice your change of mood.

“hey, it’s just a bit stormy. no need to worry.” he smiles at you as he reaches over to reassuringly grab your hand, squeezing it lightly to get your attention.

as your eyes met, the train came to an abrupt halt in its tracks.

the lights flickered for a moment and you held onto his hand tightly as you waited for someone to tell you what was going on.

soon enough the train attendant came by and tried to explain what was going on, the only thing you understood was that there was some rubble covering the tracks and that you had to wait.

great.

cregan reassured you that it would be fine and probably just take a little time, but after almost an hour passed you started to grow restless.

“listen, i know you are worried right now, but maybe we should try and get your mind off of this.”

as he spoke, he rose to his feet and offered you his hand once again. a blush crept up your neck and covered your cheeks at the suggestive tone in his voice.

you grab his hand quickly, letting him pull you up and standing a bit closer to him than really necessary.

“what do you have in mind?”

“you not hungry?” he asks through his mouth full of soup.

your eyebrow twitches as you sip your tea from a flimsy plastic cup “no, thanks for the drink tho”

apparently his idea of getting your mind of a thunderstorm rocking the still train was a lot different than yours.

as he pulled you to your feet in the hallway of the train wagon, you had realized how most of the compartments were empty by now. he had taken your backpacks, hauled them into the luggage racks of one of them before turning around smiling.

a chill went down your spine as he stepped closer, taking your hand in his once again before shooing you out the door again.

“let's get something to warm you up. your hands are freezing.” with that he started to lead the way towards the dining car.

you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

was it like you to just fuck a random stranger on the train? no.

did the last two hours of playing and laughing with cregan convince you that you actually liked that strange british guy? absolutely.

the way he talked to you, his laugh vibrating in your chest every time you used a proverb the wrong way while trying to seem savvy, his gaze always holding yours but scanning over you every time you looked away.

it made you crazy about him.

you also couldn’t help but notice that his thick thighs weren’t the only enticing thing about him. his choppy brown hair and stubble framing his face nicely, his shirt tightening around his chest every time he straightened his back and shoulders, and most importantly: the way he listened to everything you had to say with a look of genuine interest while staring you down.

it made you tingly all over again, thinking about the intense eye contact you held with him (something you usually struggled with).

your thoughts were disrupted by the noise of cregan's plastic spoon scraping up the rest of his suspicious looking soup.

you watched as he liked the spoon clean before tossing it away with the rest of your disposable cutlery, as you were also finished with your tea.

“can i do you for another one?” he offers, considering he had paid for your first drink already you just shook your head.

“thank you though. i think we should get back to the compartment, i don’t wanna leave the luggage alone for too long”

“fine, you can go ahead. i’ll get something for myself and then i’m right behind you”

by now almost two hours had passed since the train stopped. two hours you spent with the sweetest young man, telling you about his family and his travels.

you can’t help but sigh again as you reach the compartment, trying to think of the least awkward way to ask him for his number.

the inside of the train had cooled down considerably over the past few hours and you shiver as a draft brushes over your bare shoulders. trying to reach your bag to cover up was to no avail, as cregans considerably larger backpack was blocking yours.

you struggle as you try to free your sweatshirt from the bag one more time as the door slides open.

“need any help with that?” cregan asks as he shimmies past you to place a glass bottle down on the little desk below the window.

“yes please… it’s freezing and i can’t turn down the AC in here.” “here let me…”

he reaches past you and you duck, shying away last minute as his chest brushes your back.

he throws you a dark gray bundle rather than handing you your luggage. you frown at first before realizing he gave you a piece of his clothing to cover up.

you don’t comment on it, just pulling the soft half zip sweater over your head to not draw any further attention to your very prominent blush.

your nose is flooded with his smell, a nice combination of pine-scented deodorant and his personal musk. the soft wool of the sweater warms your skin quickly and you smile as your hand brushes over the small wolf emblem resting over your left pectoral.

“thank you…”

you smile down at him where he sat down next to the window, but before he could reply you frown at the beverage he brought with him from the dining car.

“is that… red wine?” you ask bewildered “what, were they out of any hard liquor?” you mockingly ask him as he takes the bottle to unscrew the cap.

“no, well… the train attendant came in as you left and informed us that because of the thunderstorm they can’t do any work on the railway. we’re gonna be here for a while so i thought we might as well get cozy” he smiles at you sheepishly.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at the news as you plop yourself in the seat next to his “maybe you should’ve started with that” you sigh before reaching over to grab the bottle from his hands

“it’s a nice idea though, let’s get comfy…” you smile at him as you take a swig from the bottle, the sour taste of cheap wine flooding your tongue.

“cheers!”

the compartment is filled with giggles and laughs as you finished half the bottle together, passing it back and forth between you.

“so, wait… you’re telling me you realized it was a musical after you had to audition for it with a musical number?” you spurt out as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye.

apparently, cregan stark was a theatre kid. you also learned that his last name was stark, and that he comes from a family of gifted sportsmen, him being an aspiring ice hockey protege apart from his gift for theatre productions at his university.

“it wasn’t supposed to be a musical when i first got the script, i swear!!” he laughs as he takes another swig “who would expect a pop-musical production of King Lear?”

you shrug as you take the bottle from him again “i don’t know man, but still…” trying to remember what witty remark your drunk brain had prepared for him you look past him out the window, watching the rain pour down and forming small streams down the rocky side of the mountain.

“what was your favorite play? like, were you ever the lead or something?” your eyes find his again as you try to keep the conversation going, hazily reminding yourself that there was still something you wanted to ask of him.

“i was romeo once, in freshman year” he smiles shyly “don’t even know why i got the part, i was to nervous to remember any lines”

“they probably just wanted a handsome face for their lead” you giggle “the story wouldn’t make any sense if romeo wasn’t smoking hot”

“that's not true…” he says before taking another swig.

“yes it is, i mean come on… they were super young, they were basically told that they could be with anyone but the other, and they had to be super hot to find it enticing to run off with each other instead of just carrying on with their families rivalry”

you ramble along, remembering the lecture you held about this english class back in highschool

he looks confused as you carry on with your lecturing before putting a hand on your arm to pause you “no, that makes total sense and stuff, but i meant the part about my cast.”

now it’s your turn to look confused, partially because you couldn’t follow him but mostly because the warmth of his hand seeping through his sweatshirt was a welcome distraction

“i wasn’t cast because i was handsome”

“are you fishing for compliments now?”

“what? no!” he frowns at you “i looked like an egg back then, had a buzzcut and all that…”

he leans back in his seat comfortably as he holds the bottle out for you “but thanks for saying i’m hot anyways” a grin spread over his lips at your flustered expression.

“you really are” you tell him as you reach for the bottle, cregans fingers brushing yours. instead of pulling away he holds the bottle between you, nudging his fingers against yours and squeezing your arm where his hand still layed.

his eyes scanned over your face before he spoke again “you would make a nice juliet yourself” “are you calling me pretty?”

he scoffs “now you’re the one fishing for compliments” “i’m not! i just wanna hear you say it” you laugh, leaning a bit closer.

cregan leans in as well, and you’re sure he can smell the cheap wine on your breath

“you’re very pretty” he mutters as his gaze flickers to your lips, “especially with the wine staining your pretty lips”

you lick your lips out of reflex before you meet his gaze again.

“can i kiss you?” he asks at the same time as you, resulting in a snort from both of you

“i’m taking that as a yes” his lips met yours, his hand leaving your arm to cup your cheek delicately.

he pulled away almost as quickly as he pressed the kiss onto your lips, which left you confused

“that was only a peck… you gotta kiss me!”

before you could complain any further he came onto you again and this time, it felt like a real kiss.

his hand on your cheek guided you towards him and your lips met again, at first only moving carefully to try and find a comfortable rhythm until you slotted against each other perfectly.

he kept pulling away just to reconnect your lips quickly, only taking a second to breathe before filling your body with warmth again.

you don’t remember who incorporated tongue first, you just know that he had the most delicious taste to him.

the more heated the kiss got, the closer you tried to get to him. the bottle of wine was long forgotten on the floor of the compartment as you finally took a leap and broke the kiss for a moment to climb into his lap.

you barely manage to straddle his thighs in the narrow seat, so cregan quickly flips up the armrest to make some room for you.

considering how hesitant you were earlier to even play cards with him, you certainly changed your biases quickly as you scoot up in his lap until your chest grazes his.

he looks up at you through his lashes as his hands find their place on your jeans clad thighs “is this okay?” you ask him nervously as you push some of his hair back

“i can get off if i’m to heavy, i just thought-” he cuts you off by pulling you even closer, his chest now pressed to yours and his hands wandering up to grab your hips.

“you’ll stay right where you are, understood?” you can merely nod before cregan pushes another kiss to your lips, this time there's no hesitation to push his tongue into your mouth. the faint taste of cheap red wine making you dizzy.

your hand pushes into his hair once again, this time to grab it as your other finds its way to his waist, ghosting over the hem of his shirt before dipping your fingers underneath to feel his hot skin.

you can feel him shiver beneath you as you push yourself even closer, your nails skimming up and down his side. his hands started wandering as well, first lighty massaging your upper thigh before he resorted to plainly grope your ass.

it was a welcome surprise to feel his fingers indentations on your flesh even through the thick fabric of your jorts, his initial roughness soon turning into soft guidance of your hips against his pelvis.

as the kiss you share turns more and more desperate, whimpers and grunts being swallowed by the others mouth, your hands keep wandering all over his upper body. you couldn‘t decide whether you wanted to map out his entire body with your fingertips or just hold him impossibly close.

at some point, cregans left hand had slipped underneath your (his) sweater to hold you even closer by your lower back, your core being held in place while his right continued to guide your hips in a leisurely paced grind over his hardening length.

feeling the compartment heating up, sweat forming beneath his broad palm pressed to your skin, the desperation on his tongue being thrust into your mouth, you decide you need to take a breather before things get on to well to quickly.

reluctantly, you pull your head back and with that, leave cregan to desperately pant into the crook of your neck where he rests his head. you look up to the luggage rack above you, trying to focus on anything but the delicious burning sensation the drag of cregans hardened cock against your vulva has left in your lower belly.

your regained focus is ripped from you almost immediately as cregan slowly pulls down the zipper of the half zip to latch onto your pulsepoint.

a hand quickly shoots to his disheveled hair, grabbing the brown strands tightly. the whimper passing his lips is almost pathetic, his eyes closing tightly at the pull of his hair.

it took all your willpower to actually hold him back by the hair on his nape instead of just crashing your lips on his again, his mouth reddened and shimmering with the remainder of your combined saliva.

cregans eyes meet yours, glossy and pupils blown wide from excitement.

“i think…“ you whisper „i think i need a moment“ at this point your hips have stilled completely, yet cregan still held you tightly by your lower back and arse

“alright sweetheart…“ he pauses for a moment, trying not to focus on the throb coming from both his hair being pulled and your thighs tightly trapping his hips in place underneath them

„i didn‘t push it to far, did i?“

„no, you actually pushed it just right, probably a bit to well…“ you chortle as you loosen the grip on his roots, having calmed your breathing just enough to settle comfortably an cregans lap without feeling the need to restrain his burning touch.

a big smile stretches over his lips at your words and almost immediately, his hands start to wander again. you roll your eyes as he tries to shake your regained composure from you. with a smile on your own lips you lay your hands on top of his.

cregan hesitates for a moment, thinking you‘re asking him to pause his movements again. to his surprise, you do the opposite:

you slowly guide his hands to the slope where your thighs meet your hip, his fingers spreading over your hipbone and his thumbs resting comfortably on your lower stomach, perfectly framing your little pouch beneath your bleach washed jorts.

“i think we can take it a bit further now… only if you want to of course, i don‘t wanna pressure you to do it if you don‘t feel like it!“

you start to ramble again, nervous to ask for such intimacy from someone you met mere hours ago. cregans thumbs slowly start to caress where they can reach, inching closer to the zipper of your pants, wiping any doubt from your mind as your eyes meet once again.

“stop worrying so much“ he tells you, the sweetest tone to his voice „i want this just as much as you do, so please…“ his hands grip your hips tightly as he easily maneuvers you off his lap to sit on the seat next to his „do me a favor and take of your pants.“

he says it so matter-of-factly, you almost feel stupid for not starting to undress on your own accord. worry clouds your mind for a moment as you glance towards the glass door to your compartment, but as if he had read your mind cregan was already on it, closing the blinds and lowering the curtains of the small windows next to the ‚isle-seats‘ facing the hallway of the train.

you quickly loosen the button and pull down the zipper of your pants, wiggling out of the thick fabric and purposefully ignoring the damp stain on the inside of your pants‘ crotch-area as well as the wetness tracing between your thighs.

cregan also takes notice of your newly revealed skin, watching hungrily as you nervously press your knees together. technically, you want nothing more but to get the buff man in front of you between your legs.

practically, you can‘t help but think about how dirty the seats must be and how little contact you want your bare skin to have with the dusty upholstery.

“why don‘t you sit down?“

too embarrassed to admit your squeamishness concerning the hygiene of public textiles, you spew out the next best excuse that comes to mind

“i don‘t wanna leave a stain“

cregan snorts as he watches the deep blush creep up your neck and cheeks, hands clasped tightly in front of you

“don‘t worry about that“ he says as he pulls his shirt over his head to place it over the middle seat for you to sit down on.

as he stretches his arms upwards to free himself from the fabric you can feel the flame in your lower belly rekindle. you knew what to expect from the way his clothes hugged his bulging muscles, yet you didn‘t imagine him to be this beefy. his muscles laid bedded underneath soft fat, yet could still be made out clearly whenever he moved. a trail of coarse dark brown hair spread over his pectorals and down to his navel, the soft happy trail disappearing under the band of his boxers peeking from his shorts.

the sight of him made you salivate a little, trying not to think too intensely about what it might feel like to have his front rut against yours.

as if he was trying to stop your train of thoughts, cregan guided you backwards slowly until you sat down atop his discarded shirt. you could feel the remaining warmth of his body heat through the thin fabric of your slip, the gusset most certainly soaked through with your arousal and leaving a moist print on the fabric.

practically vibrating with excitement you followed his every move with your eyes as he slowly knelt in front of you, his hands reassuringly rubbing up and down your plush thighs to coax them to open up to him.

you did as instructed, slowly spreading your legs only to draw in a sharp breath as he slips between them, his waist nestling neatly between them to keep them spread.

“i want to try something… do you trust me?“ he asks, his breath ghosting over your face, drawing you in to lean closer

„yes“

lips are pressed against each other once again, desperately clinging to another as if kissing was their only purpose.

carefully, your hands start to explore his now naked upper body, enthusiastically roaming his back only to rake down through the thin layer of hair towards his navel, not missing the opportunity to grace over his nipples to cast gooseflesh over his body and draw a breathy moan from him.

the thought of cregan being so sensitive to your touch filled you with excitement, slowly starting to inch your waist closer to the edge of the seat to connect with his pelvis again, your core desperately clenching around nothing.

cregan didn‘t keep you waiting much longer, slowly trailing his lips from yours towards your neck, continuing to suck a dark mark into the same spot he tried to claim not to long ago.

this time, your hands found their way into his hair to try and bring him impossibly closer. the welcome throb of his hair being pulled send thrills down his spine, only spurring him on to let his lips wander and map out the skin of your neck, marking every sensitive spot with a loving bite as well as an apologetic lick over the forming bruise.

you don‘t know how much time passes until he detaches from your neck completely, your mind hazy with the way his touch seemingly has left permanent marks on your skin.

without a doubt, you could still feel his lips trailing your neck, his hands going from massaging your thighs to ghost over the hem of your knickers before finding your chest, his palms perfectly resting on the swell of your tits with an occasional flick of your nipples with his thumbs.

cregans previous touches were all but forgotten when he pressed one last peck to your lips before leaning down between your legs, now resting on his hunches.

he eyed the wet spot between your legs with a soft glimmer in his eyes, now on the same level as your soaking cunt as he was leaning down. his broad shoulders nudged your legs apart even further, his arms circling them from underneath to gain further control as well as softly caressing the outside of her thighs soothingly.

slowly getting the idea of what he wanted to try so desperately, your breath grows quicker.

his eyes found yours again as he started to trail stray kisses along the insides of your thighs, nipping at certain spots just as he did on your neck. you try to clench your legs to chase the friction you try to chase so desperately, but he restrains you from doing so.

his shoulders keep your legs propped open as he finally lowers his head to press his open mouth to your covered vulva. an excited gasp leaves your mouth as his tongue pushes forward to add to the wetness of the fabric stretched over your middle, tasting your arousal through the cotton.

„fuck“ is the only thing you manage to utter as he laps on you over the fabric once again, this time accompanied by a pleased hum.

„can i take them off? please…“ his desperate eyes seek your gaze again, pleading to finally expose yourself fully.

the thought was tempting, but the little voice of reason in the back of your head did not want to shut up. this was already a far more intimate situation than you ever thought yourself capable of, but you couldn‘t seem to fully let go.

you slowly shake your head, worry clouding your mind about how he might react to the rejection. „can i keep them on please?“ you don’t even know why you were asking, it was your decision after all. yet you still felt relieved when he nodded in agreement.

“totally fine by me. is it okay if i keep going?“ he asks with his cheek rested on your thigh, his hands stroking your calves soothingly.

“yeah, please keep going“ you basically repeat after him

it doesn‘t take cregan long to get back into his previous position, his hand coming up between your legs to assist his mouth by you pulling the gusset of your panties to the side before diving back in.

the first contact between his hot tongue and your glistening lips was electrifying. he started of with a broad lick right through the middle, parting your lips with it as well as gathering your sticky wetness on his tongue.

“you taste so fucking good“ he mumbles as he closes his eyes for a second, letting your flavor melt on his tongue before diving back in and tracing his tongue upwards again, slightly gracing your clit before closing his lips around it.

you hold onto the armrest for dear life as he starts suckling on your engorged bud, swiping his tongue over it in a harsh rhythm that soon becomes too much too quickly, forcing you to stretch out your hand, grabbing his hair once again.

“careful!“ you tell him „i‘m- haa… a little sensitive“

as you push his head back a little he mumbles an apology before placing a parting kiss on your clit. cregan lays his tongue flat against your hole, the new sensation making you gasp his name aloud.

picking up on the signals your body gives him, the shiver running up your spine as well as the gooseflesh covering your legs, he starts prodding his wet muscle into you slowly, careful not to overwhelm you.

pushing himself into you with slow, languid moves while the crooked bridge of his nose softly nudges your clit is what really sets you off. you can‘t help but grind your pelvis upwards slowly, matching the slow strokes of his tongue against your inner walls.

your breath shudders with every swipe and press, his hands found their place between your thighs once again as he uses his left to keep your slip out of the way and his right to carefully assist his tongue.

as the knuckle of his pointer finger breaches your hole you yelp loudly, as you were not used to the sensation. you faintly remember asking your ex to perform cunnilingus, only for him to laugh and explain how dirty women were down there (obviously complete bullshit).

cregan didn‘t seem to think you were dirty in any way. his movements got bolder and more intense, chasing after your pleasure just as intensely as you were doing yourself.

an occasional moan , often followed by some slurping sounds, passed his lips as he eagerly swallowed each wave of wetness gushing out of you.

his tongue was soon joined by a second finger, and as cregan kept pressing against your g-spot while slowly scissoring you open your legs came up to press against his ears, locking his head in a shaky hold as your moans grew louder by the second

“you have to keep quiet” he whispered, momentarily parting from your pussy

his fingers kept prodding against the rough spot inside of you while he looked up at you, watching as you nod slowly.

“i’ll try…”

cregan smiles and gives your mound an awarding peck before he dives in again. his tongue laps at your clit once again and you’re back in your throes of pleasure, pressing your thighs together again to keep him there.

he picks up on the hint immediately, matching the strokes of his tongue with the pumping of his fingers.

your eyes roll back as you bring your hand to your mouth, trying to keep yourself from moaning out loud again, reducing your pleas for him to finally have mercy on you to muffled whimpers

the air grew tense with your approaching climax, with cregans tongue drawing continuous whimpers from you.

he must’ve felt you growing more tense by the second and before you could protest again, he went from one broad lick over your clit to sucking it between his lips gently.

it was enough to finally push you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard as you felt the familiar warmth rushing down your spine, pulsating between your legs. you kept your legs closed tightly around his head, fingers trembling in his hair as you spurred him on to keep sucking, your pelvis grinding against his face roughly in order to ride out your orgasm as best as you could.

cregan complied gladly, keeping his lips closed around your bud as well as his fingers pressed to your g-spot. he was breathless, with his nose pressed tightly into your mound and his mouth still occupied.

he enjoyed himself, the noises of the occuring thunderstorm being muffled by your luscious thighs and your juices coating his palm, slowly trailing down his arm.

the constant pressure slowly became to much for you to handle and your hips stilled, your hand pushing cregans head back from where he was still latched to your core.

the moment your eyes met, you couldn’t help but smile at his flushed state.

cregans stubble was sticky with your arousal, his lips swollen and puckered as he breathed heavily.

“was it good?” he asked teasingly, his cheeks bright red from the heat.

“the best” you reply, still a little breathless. “you did so good baby” you tell him, his shoulders tensing at the praise while a soft hand brushes back his hair.

“keep calling me that…” cregan says as he slowly pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean as he raises to sit next to you once again.

you weren’t sure whether it was the slight buzz from the red wine, or the pleading look in his eyes that encouraged you to straddle his lap again, but you did so swiftly.

your lips crashed against his instantly, giving you a taste of your own arrousal as his tongue immediately found yours.

without a second thought you brushed over his prominent bulge with your knuckles, earning yourself a whimper from the brunette.

“can i touch you baby?” you whisper against his lips, your fingers teasingly slipping under the waistband of his shorts

“hmm… fuck, yes…” cregan answers breathless, your hands immediately fussing with his pants to pull them down enough to finally get your hands on him.

the desperation in his voice only spurred you on as he was pleading for you to touch him, whimpering loudly as you freed him from his confines and took him in your hand carefully. “please…” he croaked as your cool fingers sent electrifying shocks down his length, but you were too occupied with the sight between the two of you to decipher what he wanted, needed.

as expect from a guy his size, he was big. not neccesarily the longest, but definitely girthier than you were used to with a beautiful pink tint to the weeping tip.

dreamily, you brush a thump over his slit, smearing the precum he already leaked and earning another low moan from cregan.

you started to stroke him, the soft skin moving under your fingertips as you mindlessly wondered how beautiful his color would look on your lips, glossed up with makeup in the same way his tip glimmered with cum

“so pretty…” you whispered as he throbbed in your palm, urging you to speed up your movements while adding a little flick of the wrist to it.

as his moans grew louder you shut him up with a kiss, lips and tongues sloppily crashing together as cregan started to thrust into your fist, your hand barely able to close around his dick.

he was gripping your hips tightly, pulling you closer again until he could feel the bottom of his tip pressing against your mound, a beautiful hot sensation of thrusting up into your closed palm while grinding against your pubic bone, his moans resonating in your throat as he kept your lips on his by the back of the neck.

despite his efforts you pulled away slightly while keeping your ministrations on his dick up.

“do you wanna cum baby?” you ask softly, his eyes never leaving yours as you could feel him throb again, precum trailing down your fingers with how much he was leaking

“yes, please..!” he urged you on, his hands gripping your sides as he pressed another messy kiss to your lips “can i come in your mouth? please sweetheart, please put your mouth on me”

you couldn’t help but coo at his begs, adding some speed to the movement over his length.

his pleas were answered by actions, not words as you pressed a parting kiss to the corner of his mouth before you climbed off his lap, his hips straining from his efforts to hold back his thrusts into your fist.

your chest tightens as you look up at him, his cheeks are flushed red with his chest raising and falling rapidly.

you give him a few more strokes until he looks ready to cum, his skin tensing beneath your touch and his moans of your name growing louder with each stroke.

“look at me baby” you tell him, and his eyes find yours in an instant.

slowly sticking out your tongue, you press it to his throbbing tip accompanied by a delighted moan as the taste of him spreads over yout tastebuds.

his face contorts with pleasure as you carefully wrap your lips around his dick, gliding down until your lips meet your hand.

your mouth stretches over his girth and it takes a few attempts for you to comfortably start bobbing your head, the prominent vein running down his underside pulsating against the press of your tongue.

his hands find your head and reluctantly prepare to get your face pushed further into his lap. instead you find yourself delighted by the gentle caress of cregans fingers on your temple, his knuckles brushing some loose strands from your forehead before he runs his fingers through your hair.

as you look up at him through your lashes, sight slightly hazy with the remaining tears of your orgasm, you find him staring at you.

the intensity of his gaze as well as the comforting weight of his palm resting reassuringly in your hair elicits a low moan from you.

cregans eyes widen with surprise as you moan around his cock, the low vibrations in combination with your tongue gliding over his tip once again send familiar shocks through his lower abdomen, he feels his lower back tingling as he realizes his release is approaching rather rapidly.

„hold on-“ he tries to warn you, but with the way you hollow your cheeks and make an effort to swallow his dick completely, there is no way he can manage to form a coherent sentence.

you feel your pussy clenching with excitement at the sound of cregans pathetic moans, a new wave of arousal slowly dripping down between your thighs as you close your eyes again. concentrating on not gagging, you give it your best to take all of him in, imagining the way he would feel inside your cunt as his tip hits the back of your throat at the same time your nose burrows itself in his stomach.

his happy trail tickles your nose as you swallow him down completely with a delighted moan, cregans grip in your hair tightening slightly as he closes his eyes with a loud moan.

his orgasm crashes down on him and without a chance of holding back he softly grinds upwards into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat. your hands hold onto his thighs tightly as you meet his shallow thrusts with the bop of your head, eyes closed with concentration as you try to drag this out for him as much as you can.

it doesn’t take long for him to slowly guide your face away from his dick, his chest rising and falling quickly with heavy breaths.

“guess you really wanted to return that favor, huh?“ he teases as your eyes meet once again, your chin glistening with the remains of your spit and the bit of cum you didn‘t manage to swallow.

„i did…“ you whisper quietly, voice hoarse from the strain on your throat „did you like that baby? did you like eating me out so much for you to cum this quickly?“ you tease as you slowly get up again, pushing yourself up by holding onto his thighs to stand in front of him.

the blush on his face darkens as you use that nickname again, seemingly having a rather intense effect on him

„thank you“ he whispers, his hands coming up to rest on the back of your thighs. you step closer to cregan, your knees pressing against the seat between his legs as you brush his hair out of his sweaty forehead.

you as you look down on him, your eyes scanning over his still-sticky face, his big eyes glistening with remaining tears of pleasure, his chest still darkened by a deep blush, the weight of reality starts to set in with you.

did you really just do that, get down on you knees in front of a stranger after he ate you out like a man starved?

but he wasn’t really a stranger to you, was he? after how much you talked, laughed and played around together?

cregan seemed to notice the panic settling into your stomach, his eyebrows drawing together with worry as your eyes dart around the compartment.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” his hands reassuringly rub the sides of your legs, trying to calm you down as he tries to meet your gaze

“i’m just…” you bite your tongue as you think about it for a second “i think i’m just a bit overwhelmed is all… we just did this in public, and without protection-”

“i’m clean if thats what you’re worried about”

“it’s not, but thanks for letting me know”

cregan looks a bit helpless as you keep brushing your fingers through his hair to calm your nerves.

“i’m not the type to do something like this out of the blue, which probably sounds super cheesy but i’ve truly never done something like this, and i never thought i would do it with some stranger on the train”

nodding slowly as he tries to follow your train of thoughts, cregan leans to the side to kiss your wrist without breaking eye contact

“do you regret it? i didn’t want to pressure you, i swear! i just thought that we got along so well and then we made out-” you stop him by pressing a kiss to his hairline

“i never said i regretted it, it was great!” a smile stretches across your face “i’m just a bit surprised by this whole situation, thats all. i really enjoyed this…”

“i’m glad to hear it” he sighs as he leans back in his seat, tucking himself in and closing his pants before reaching his hand out

“now- why don’t you get dressed and come sit down again? i think we’ve still got some wine left, and you still need to finish that story about your theater play in highschool” you smile brightly at cregans words as you gather your pants and the one shoe that came loose throughout your snogging session and put them back on while he stuffs the soiled shirt from the seat into his backpack to exchange it with a clean one.

you’re glued to his side immediately as he sits back down, one leg thrown over his and your arms hugging his tightly.

cregan laughs at the sight of you, slowly caressing your leg while you rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes.

the evening goes by faster than you had anticipated, but with your laughter filling the compartment, neither of you realized how quickly time flew by.

you were in the middle of another make out break, cregan slotted between your legs as you tussle his hair some more, when the train suddenly recoiled. his head shot up immediately, trying to see anything out the window despite the darkness limiting his sight.

as the train suddenly jerked forward and started taking up tempo, you realized that the rain had stopped. the sky outside the window was as clear as ever and with a heavy sigh, your eyes met cregans.

“you’re getting off at the next stop?”

“yes…”

“oh… you should get ready then, it can’t be that long until we’re there” you mumble, trying to force a smile as you push yourself up and cregan out of your lap.

the realization hits you that this whole afternoon, the idea of you two being so intimate with each other and possibly forming more than a physical bond was over now.

cregan raises from his seat reluctantly, avoiding your gaze as his bubble was burst well.

“i think i’ll go to the bathroom, be back in a second…” he sort of tells himself before leaving you behind in the compartment.

it feels cold to be left behind like this, even though he hasn’t even gotten off the train yet. as cregan returns to you you start taking of his woolen hoodie, only to be stopped by his hands resting on your shoulders.

“keep it. please.”

he looks down on you sternly and before you can protest, an announcement over the speakers tells you that the next stop is coming up.

you tear up immediately and press yourself face first into cregans chest, hugging him tightly around the waist while his arms wrap around your shoulders.

“thank you for today” you say, muffled by his pectorals.

“no, thank you sweetheart. i had the best time with you today.” he whispers into your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead, the train slowly coming to a halt.

“i guess i’ll see you around?” cregan asks hopefully.

“maybe… goodbye cregan.”

“goodbye…” as the train fully stops you sway lightly in his embrace.

you let him go without hesitation and step aside so he can take his backpack, with one last look over his shoulder he waves at you before squeezing out the department and towards the exit of the train.

you close your eyes for a second taking a deep breath while trying to calm yourself down.

this is so stupid you think to yourself as you gaze around the empty department, until a flash of color catches your eye:

cregan hat forgotten his UNO deck.

in a second, you scurry to find a pen and hastily scribble something on the cardboard box.

you can hear the doors opening and before you know it, you push open the window and lean out on the platform, scanning the crowd for the tall man.

“CREGAN!” you yell out as you spot him, cigarette and lighter in hand, his nose and eyes suspiciously red.

he scans the platform for a second before he strides towards you quickly, the doors already closing after the waiting passengers boarded the train.

before he can catch his breath or ask any questions, wasting the little time you had left, you pull him towards you by the neck and press a quick peck to his lips.

the two of you part with a smack as the train picks up speed and you toss over the little red pack of cards, which he catches against his chest.

you simply grin at him as his confused figure gets smaller and smaller in the distance, slowly backing away into the confines of the train, smilling as you let yourself fall into your seat.

cregan stands at the platform, looking after the train as it passes by and slowly disappears into the night.

confusion is clear on his face as he looks down on the little cardboard box in his hand, turning it in his palm.

“fucking hell…” he laughs out as he stuffs it into his backpack, finally lighting up his cigarette as he makes his way towards the exit of the platform, smiling ear to ear at the message you messily scribbled down.

call for a rematch :) xxx-xxxx-xxxx

will there be a rematch one day? who knows. but i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did while writing it.

love ya

#cregan x reader #modern cregan stark #cregan stark #hotd cregan #tom taylor #train #smut #strangers to lovers #house of the dragon #hotd au

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sobx9 · 2 days ago

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My (unpopular) opinion on the scenes where they go to Morocco

We can all agree that the whole part of the Pogues going to Morocco was a little off, right? Pope not caring JJ is sui*dal, Kie playing cards while her boyfriend is having a break down, JJ getting over his drunken pity party seemingly out of nowhere. It was so out of character for all of them.

But one thing I disagree with is the notion that JJ’s outburst to John B about him being a bad dad was out of character for him.

Here you have this character, who, after having a shitty life, is finally happy, has a home, a family, a loving girlfriend and a business of his own. And not even two years in, it’s being taken away from him. And what’s worse, it’s all his fault. If that’s not enough, he finds out some pretty devastating news about his origin. His abusive dad is not actually his dad and his real dad just left him for dead. Not to mention the woman he thought was his mother that abandoned him was just some random lady, his real mother is actually dead, killed by her husband and he was forced to open her casket. That’s some heavy stuff.

So he’s spiralling, drinking, having an existential crisis in a way. That’s when his best friend, his brother more like, comes out with another news. He, at the age of 19, is having a baby. That’s just another life altering news to top it all off. Because in JJ’s eyes that means his brother is moving on from the life they’ve been living and leaving him behind. He’s growing up without him. Having a kid is not an easy thing. John B is going to have to be more responsible. Impulsive partying, treasure hunting, surfing during the storm and all of the other shenanigans they did when they were younger? Hard to do with a baby around. And with everything else that’s been happening? It’s understandable JJ is freaking out about it. Do I think what he said was out of line? Absolutely. But JJ has always been rash and impulsive, lashing out at the people he loves when stressed. So i think his response made sense. Also he later apologises the only way he knows how, not with words but with saving Sarah from drowning.

I was actually more pissed at John B, that he thought this news was going to cheer JJ up. You’d think that your best friend would be well aware of how you act during stressful situations and how you respond to changes. I understand why he told him, but maybe he should have taken a step back and think “hey, he’s having a meltdown, maybe throwing another life altering news at him right now is actually not the best idea.”

A little unrelated but while I am here. It pissed me off so much that they just let him drink on that boat! You want to give him space or he’s pushing you away? Fine, but take that damn bottle away from him! You know it’s not helping. And it’s not like his drinking came out of nowhere, he used it as a clutch in season 2 as well. You are on a boat so it’s not like he can just go out and get more booze. While JJ and John B are talking, there’s a moment, when John B actually has the bottle in his hand and I kept thinking, surely he’s not going to give back, right? But he does!

What I wanted to see was John B chucking the bottle in the ocean and Kie being like “thank you, good move but maybe next time try not dumping trash in the middle of the ocean? Just emptying the bottle was an option John B!” That would be more in character for all of them.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this ❤️

#outer banks #obx #obx season 4 #obx4 #jiara #jj maybank #john b routledge

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selfindulgenceisthekey · 1 day ago

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𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚞 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚞 𝚗𝚘 𝙼𝚒: 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A/N: I have never written for One Piece before. In all honesty, I just started watching the anime. I’ve watched the live action, and I loved it, and I have read a lot of fanfic. Then my brain made this. So here we go.

“We have guests.”

It wasn’t a sentence you were unused to hearing, but normally you were given more time to prepare. You nodded, remaining quiet as Kurozawa stared silently for a beat, before stepping out of your room. One of your handmaids came in after he left, carrying whatever garment he wished you to dress yourself in tonight.

It was golden, as it always was. Thin straps on your shoulders, tight fitting and long, a slit along your leg. You’d look like treasure— his treasure.

You heard a little hum as the maid left, Eimi’s golden eyes, bright and wide, staring up at you questioningly. You smiled at her, running a hand through her hair, playfully poking the tip of her nose.

“Will you be okay by yourself for tonight?”

She shrugged, and that was enough confirmation. She had her papers and pencils, the one raggedy bunny you had managed to convince Kurozawa to buy her. If you played your cards right you’d even be able to bring her back some dinner.

Though, neither of you got your hopes up for that. You changed quickly, the typical routine engrained in your memory. Golden dress, golden jewelry, hair out of your face, minimal makeup, his brand on your bicep always uncovered.

Eimi tapped your hand, pulling your attention to her. She studied your face for a moment, before smiling, signing pretty in her own little language.

“Thank you, my dear,” You leaned down, kissing the crown of her head.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” You headed towards the door, trying to keep a brave face as you turned to her, “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

She huffed, but nodded. She never argued with your directions, brushing her teeth twice a day, bathing without complaint, never staying up too late.

The guards outside said nothing as you stepped out, locking the door behind you, and leading you down the halls. They were covered with art, paintings of the Kurozawa family, pottery far too expensive to look as cheap as it did.

You wondered who the guests this evening would be.

Marines? No, he would have made you dress just a bit more decent.

It wasn’t a fellow warlord, there would have been more gossip whispered through the halls.

You knew better than to ask the guards, the pair taking their place in the dininghall as you entered. You were momentarily surprised to see the guests were already seated, plates full of food before them.

Kurozawa was seated at his usual space, the head of the table, your seat to his left open, the plate, as usual, empty.

“There she is,” He grinned, and years of being accustom to him were the only thing keeping you from recoiling in disgust.

You kept your face stoic, head lowered as you took your seat. He continued to the guests.

“My song bird, ladies and gentlemen,” He introduced you to the group, and you could feel their curious gazes upon you.

Your eyes remained forward, the air of elegance as you sat, back straight.

“She doesn’t look like a bird.”

The sentence had you blinking, fighting the urge to look at whoever said that. Kurozawa snorted, amused yet annoyed at the stupidity.

“It’s merely a pet-name, strawhat.”

Wait.

Strawhat?

You glanced over, heart stuttering in your chest as you made eye contact with one Monkey D. Luffy. He was eating, looking back at you rather curiously. What—

What were the strawhat pirates doing here?

Kurozawa continued to speak, and you broke the staring contest that was going on between you and the pirate captain.

“Now, I am very grateful that you all have chosen to come visit. To be quite frank, your reputation exceeds you all. A powerful crew such as yourself.”

Ah, okay. That makes sense. He wanted to work with them; which meant he wants them to work for him. He’d hired pirate crews before, having them do his bidding. Pillaging and stealing, being the ones to be in trouble with the marines while he sat back and watched his gold pile up.

“With that being said; I’d like to make a deal with you.”

You watched with morbid curiosity, and mild disgust, as the strawhat captain continued to pile food on his plate. His stomach seemed like a never ending pit.

“What’s that?” Crumbs littered his mouth, and you had to fight the physical recoil.

His other members didn’t, the red headed woman, cat burglar Nami, you believe, wrinkled her nose at him, watching as crumbs littered the table before him. She looked like she was seconds away from scolding him. The blonde man, black-leg Sanji, shared an equally annoyed looked. They seemed to have manners, refraining from scolding the man for the mess he’s been making.

“I wish to hire you all, create a contract between the strawhats and the Kurozawa-family. For the foreseeable future.”

He sat back in his seat, cocky and confident as he always was, “Money is no issue, truly. You name your price, and I’ll set you up with weapons, men, and maps, so long as you do as I request of you.”

There was silence, the pirate crew all looking between each other, silent conversations being bad.

“Hey— is there any more of this stuff?” The captain waved around one of the bones from the lamb legs.

You saw the way Kurozawa’s eye twitched, his question being ignored entirely. He cleared his throat, clearly fighting to keep his temper in check.

“Of course.” He snapped his fingers, and a few servants hurried forward, more plates of food being placed on the table, taking away empty trays.

At the rate he ate there would be no leftovers to bring Eimi. That thought alone was the most disappointing part of this evening so far.

“Are you not going to serve your lady?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Kurozawa’s attention turned to black-leg, eyes narrowing at the question thrown his way. The blonde man’s head tilted your way, “Your songbird, her plates still rather empty.”

The gazes of the crew turned to you, and the rapt attention made your face heat up. Kurozawa laughed, a forced sound.

“She eats in the comfort of her own suite, she prefers her privacy. Now, back to my offer—”

The blonde man stood from his seat, the chair scrapping against the floor. He walked behind the others, who shook their heads, moving close to you. Your plate was soon filled with different items: meat and veggies, sauteed potatoes and toasted bread. The scent alone had your mouth watering.

“A lady should always be served first, especially one as beautiful as you,” His words were directed towards you, and you for once, found yourself silent, because you were unable to response.

Kurozawa slammed his fist against the table, cutlery rattling, and you jumped in your seat, tearing your gaze away from the pirate.

“Now,” He was seething, black-leg returning to his seat, “My offer. I—”

“Nah.”

The silence following the response nearly had you choking on your spit. Kurozawa was frozen where he sat. “Nah?”

Luffy shrugged, “Nami told me what you do. I don’t wanna work for you. Plus, helping you isn’t gonna help any of us get to the grand-line.”

You could see the vein popping out of Kurozawa’s neck. He wasn’t used to being told no, not so bluntly of course. Face red, he sat back in his seat, trying to force an aura of nonchalance.

“I can offer you a new ship, something better. Far faster.”

“No. I like my ship. She’ll get us where we need to go.”

He huffed, gaze turning towards you, anger and demand clear in his gaze. You held your sigh in, glancing down to your plate. You turned towards him, trying to will that feeling back into your chest.

“You won’t consider helping Sir Kurozawa?”

Luffy looked towards you, as did the others. This was the first time you’d spoken, or even looked up really, since entering the room.

“If he really needed help then sure, but he doesn’t. The only reason we came was ‘cause the invite said there’d be dinner!”

You could feel Kurozawa’s heated gaze on you. It didn’t work. That was fine, you could do it, you had to.

You tried again, “You should consider helping him, it’s rather important to him.”

“Look lady,” The swordsman spoke, voice gruff and startling, “You already have our answer.”

You could feel the panic growing in your chest, but you clamped it down. Panicking wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“You should consider helping him.”

You could see the words take effect, pausing his motions, eyes glazing over as your powers worked— finally. Kurozawa hummed, a pleased sound from the back of his throat.

“Alright,” You heard the unsheathing of swords as his crew reacted.

Oh no— you were so focused on ensuring you got to the captain your focus ignored the others. Guards in the area all stood at attention, swords and guns drawn.

“Now now,” Kurozawa spoke up, and you sat back on your seat, trying to curl into yourself as best as you could, “Let’s not act too hasty.”

Luffy’s eyes were clear now, staring at you with curiosity.

“That was so cool— how did you do that?”

“Luffy!”

“I—” You clamped your mouth shut, so fast your teeth clacked painfully.

You heard your name be called— barked almost. An order. You knew what that meant.

You stood, the same guards as earlier moving to your side to escort you back to your room. The full plate of food remained on the table, untouched. You were taken quickly back to your room, hearing voices back in the dining hall as you left.

“Hey wait— how’d you do that?”

“Luffy we have bigger problems than that!”

“Strawhat, you’d do well to not continue to deny my offer.”

You did your best to block out the noise as you got back to your room, the door unlocked and you stumbled in. Eimi was curled up on the bed, not asleep, and looked over at you curiously.

You were back far earlier than you normally were.

You smiled at her, “I wanted to make sure I got back before you fell asleep,” You hated that these little white lies came to you so easily when speaking to her.

She pouted, not entirely believing you, but she sat up, watching as you changed into one of the few sets of pajamas you owned. You slipped into the bed, her small frame hurrying to curl up in your arms. You hummed, a low tune, a simple lullaby you had made up for her.

She huffed, leaning back to look at you. You okay?

“I’m fine, Kurozawa wanted to talk business with his guests. Boring stuff.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, and you pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, distracting her. “Shush now, it’s time to sleep, okay?”

Despite your hope that she’d nod off, she stayed wide awake, as did you. It was hard to sleep, with all you could hear. Even muffled, you could hear that fight that had started.

There was yelling, orders being barked from Kurozawa, no doubt throwing his men forward to hide from the fight himself. You could hear guns going off, the sound of swords clashing against each other. You wanted to scream into one of your pillows— but you knew you had to remain calm for Eimi.

God, you knew how greedy Kurozawa was, how horrible of a person he could be. But to go and make enemies of the Strawhats? What was his next goal— challenge Dracula “Hawk Eye” Mihawk himself? Sure, Kurozawa collected swords, beautiful and strong, but the man had never even held one.

Where he may lack in strength and brains he made up for in numbers. The amount of people under his thumb; indebted, paid, bought, rivaled almost any group you had heard of.

You felt the hairs on your arms stiffen, and though you weren’t sure for what, you sat up, hurrying to pull Eimi into your arms. She made a panicked noise, no doubt eyes wide as she stared up at you, but your attention was on the bedroom door.

The fighting sound was quieter but still there, but that wasn’t what caught your attention.

The guards outside were moving, calling out commands. Loud, metallic sounds echoed in the hall before there was silence. The door handle jiggled, and you moved quickly.

There weren’t any windows, Kurozawa was worried you’d try and escape anyway you could, just as there were no items you could use as a weapon.

Not without proper planning, at least.

You deposited Eimi in a corner, her little arms reaching for you broke your heart but you pulled away, quietly telling her to stay put. You opened a dresser drawer, frantically sorting through the stupid items before you found what you needed. It was small, and in a real fight would provide nothing for you. But in a moment of panic or surprise it could at least buy you time. A piece of sharpened, broken pottery, tied tightly to the end of a makeup brush.

Both items you had scored through “clumsy acts”, and both had resulted in punishment, but they at the very least gave you chance to form your own, mini scalpel type weapon.

The moment your fingers wrapped around it, the door flew open. Quite literally. Annoyed or frustrated with the lock, the person took to breaking it off the hinges, and you reared back, eyes wide as it fell to the floor.

Through the debris you saw him step in, hat still in place. Monkey D. Luffy walked in, eyeing the room curiously, before his gaze turned to you.

You were trembling, you could see it, less feel it, holding the sharp end of your weapon out towards him. You had moved so Eimi was behind you.

“Hello!” He sounded so childishly cheerful, as if he didn’t just knock out the guards outside your room and break the door down, “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, I’m gonna become the king of the pirates. I never learned how you did that at dinner— it was so cool! Did you eat a devil fruit?”

#straw hat pirates #straw hats x reader #strawhats x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #devil fruit reader #devil fruit!reader #monkey d. luffy #black leg sanji #cat burglar nami #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #op nami #luffy

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