#needed to quell the anxiety somehow

[jacks347]

Hi I'm stuck in an airport on my first solo trip with a flight that's been delayed twice now trying not to have a panic attack so welcome to my distraction post 🙃

I have a nagging feeling that David is terrified of flying. He understands it's perfectly safe, hell it's safer than driving, but he can't stand flying.

There are so many things that can go wrong on a plane and he has thought through every single possibility. He can't stand the uncertainty. And though that's what he says his main fear is, he knows there's more to it.

He fears being lost and leaving those he cares for behind. A plane crash can leave you anywhere, never to be found again. At least with his dad he got the closure of knowing where he was and that he was buried back home. For a plane crash, he wouldn't get that. He'd just be gone, left to rot somewhere his family would never be able to visit. Any burial would be a representation but wouldn't actually hold him. He'd be a lost soul, stuck somewhere he never belonged.

Not to mention the people he'd unwillingly abandon. The thought of his Angel and the pack finding out he was gone made his chest hurt. He knew the effect the Inversion had on all of them, something like this would ruin them. Imagining Angel being alone in the house or Asher losing his smile was something he just couldn't take. He would never put his family in a position where he could hurt them like that. Not if he could help it.

He could say he just didn't trust flying all he liked. But he knew deep down that wasn't the whole truth. And he would take that truth to the grave.

This was weird and incoherent and stupid but hey it was distraction enough for me so yaaaaaay

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Having a secret relationship wasn't as easy as you'd hoped it would be, especially when Eddie wasn't keen on keeping it a secret at all. (7.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, Reader wears a sun dress, making out, heavy petting, public displays of affection, sexual fantasies, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

A/N: had to include Eddie's favorite fruit in here. Shoutout to @eddiemunsonsmum for writing the best solo Eddie fics out there.

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter twelve: breath of fresh air

May teetered on the edge of June, the steadily climbing temperatures and the pungent odor of garbage signaling the beginning of another New York City summer. 

You awoke just after noon, sunlight pouring through the windows. Whispers of a headache nagged in your skull; not quite a hangover, but scarily close to one. Another drink definitely would have put you over. 

With a tired grimace, you shoved the covers aside and started your day. A day just like any other, except that you were still reeling from the fact that Eddie kissed you last night. That precious moment of connection was bested only by the sound of your name murmured from his lips onto yours.

The memory put a smile on your face as you dressed in your standard shorts and t-shirt. You wanted to kiss him over and over, to run your fingers through his mess of curls and hold him close, not parting until you both needed a breath. 

You could still taste the stain of nicotine when you swiped your tongue over your lips. Could still hear his breathy moan in your ear like a harmony. Could still feel his belt buckle pressed to your skin, the metal cold yet somehow filling you with a blazing heat.

Stripping the linens off of the bed, you lost yourself in thoughts of how it would feel to have Eddie laying beside you, his body pressing yours into the mattress, hands framing your body as he sank deeper into you—

You needed fresh air. Immediately. 

You tucked the pale pink sheets under your arm, time-faded from their original rosy hue to a salmon color, and zigzagged to the recently vacated rooms. The change of scenery did nothing to quell the desire stirring within you. Your mind was wrought with images of Eddie trailing his lips down your throat, or his teeth nipping at your collarbone, or his fingers slipping into your underwear—

“Stop it,” you hissed under your breath. The next stop was Eddie’s room, and you’d be damned if he had any inkling of the feelings you were harboring. 

His door swung open before you could even knock, halting you in your tracks. “Heard your footsteps down the hall,” he admitted, sheepishness coloring his cheeks pink. 

You only nodded as you caught your breath and your heart floated down from your throat into your chest. Thank God he couldn’t read your thoughts. “Got your pants?”

“Right here.” He held them up, balled in his fist. “Lead the way.”

“I can, um,” you searched for your words, still scrambled from your earlier musings. “I can wash them myself.” You were already throwing in the rest of the laundry; a pair of jeans wouldn’t make much of a difference.

Eddie shook his head, curls bouncing from his temples. “Nah, ‘s cool.” He plucked the bundle of linens from you. “Hasn’t been a lot to fix around here lately, so I might as well do some housekeeping.”

You threw him a playful grin as you led him to the laundry room. “No moochers allowed in my motel, y’know.”

The overhead lighting bathed him in a yellowish haze, matching the once-white walls. Maybe that could be his next project. 

“Exactly.” Eddie opened up a few cabinets, frowning when he couldn’t find what he’d been searching for. “Detergent?”

You pointed towards the cabinet below the sink. “Over there.”

Eddie saluted and stooped down to tug the economy-sized detergent tub from its spot. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring when his boxers peeked out from beneath the waistband of his jeans. Those damn Calvin Kleins; they would be your kryptonite.

“Heiress?”

Shit. He’d been talking to you, and all you could focus on was his underwear. “Yeah?”

“Do you have that stuff that makes the clothes smell really good?” He scooped out the detergent powder and sprinkled it in the washing machine. 

You laughed. “Sorry, no daisy-fresh pants for you.” 

The ensuing beat of silence seemed to stretch on for hours. Words bubbled on your tongue, desperate to continue talking to him. To discreetly sneak glances of the veins that intercepted his arm tattoos or of the sparse hair that adorned where his V-neck undershirt left his chest exposed. 

“Do anything fun today?” Christ, were you talking to a toddler? Should you offer him a sticker or a lollipop?

But Eddie perked up at the question. “Yeah, actually. I called my uncle for the first time in…” he scrunched up his mouth in contemplation. “Too damn long.” 

“How did that go?”

He set the dial to “start,” the washing machine humming to life. “Pretty good.” He hoisted himself on top of the adjacent dryer. “Same old Wayne. The world might change, but he never will.” Eddie’s eyes met yours. “When I started making money, I offered to buy him a house. Get him out of the trailer park and into a safer neighborhood. And he refused.”

Your brows raised. “He did?”

Eddie nodded, chuckling at the memory. “Said that if he left, there wouldn’t be anyone to feed the stray dogs.” He cocked his head, concentrating on your face. “You two would get along well. Similar personalities.”

“Thoughtful?”

“Yes, but to the point of stubbornness.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but Eddie cut you off. “Don’t even argue with me, Miss Social Worker by Day, Heiress by Night.” His feet swayed back and forth, tapping against the metal every so often. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the box of crayons that you keep in the desk for kids like Izzy.”

He might have had a point, but if you were going down, you’d go down swinging. “If I recall, one of us chose to sleep at a bus stop instead of accepting my gracious offer.”

“But I took you up on it eventually.”

“Only because I practically forced you,” you argued. 

“Exactly.” Eddie grinned. “Thoughtful to the point of stubbornness.” 

A stillness filled the small room, and you wondered if he had the same agenda as you: keep the conversation flowing without bringing up the date. Without bringing up the kiss; the one that seared through you and set your bones aflame. That kiss sent you to bed aching for more, mentally mapping out any way you could sneak into his room without your parents noticing. 

Eddie broke the silence. “I meant to ask…did you have a good time last night?” He scratched at the nape of his neck, the gesture betraying any air of casualness. 

“Yeah.” You smiled, trying to ignore the fluttering in your abdomen. Your skin warmed at the memory of his touch. “I mean, I got to hear you sing, and I reunited our drunk friend with her boyfriend. I don’t see how it could get better than that.” 

He laughed at that and ducked his head. “Those were the highlights?” His eyes met yours; that knowing gaze seared through you and sent your nerves humming. “Nothing else?”

“There was…another highlight.” Longing anchored the words deep in your throat, but you forced them up. You let them seep in, placing the ball squarely in his court. 

“Yeah?”

Eddie inched back onto the dryer, the shift opening a gap between his legs. A space for you to fill. Your feet carried you as though they had a mind of their own, your body slotting against his. 

“Tell me about this other highlight.” One hand reached out to yours and tugged you closer; he laid the other on your cheek. His thumb slowly swiped over your jaw as though he was memorizing its contour. 

“Well,” you started, letting your fingers rest on his denim-clad thighs, “I really liked when we kissed.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up when you supplied the answer he’d been hoping for. “That makes two of us.” He let his forefinger trail down to your collarbone, the slight movement saturated with equal parts awe and desire. “I think we should do it again sometime.”

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you asked, “when?”

“Right…” He grinned, and before you could double-check that you’d closed the door, his lips crashed into yours. You felt his tongue cautiously prod at the seam, seeking entry, and you allowed it. The scents of cigarettes and spearmint gum accompanied his tongue in a way that was so uniquely him. 

Eddie only broke the kiss to bring his lips to your neck. He was gentle at first, peppering delicate kisses down the column of your throat, but he lost all control the moment you tilted your head and gave him clear access to your pulse point. 

The hand on your cheek fell to your waist and pulled you close enough to feel Eddie’s heartbeat against your own chest. “This your favorite spot to be kissed?” He murmured into your skin. You felt him smile when you nodded in response. “Where else do you want me to kiss you?”

Was ‘everywhere’ a valid response? A soft sigh loosened itself and escaped you at the feeling of his teeth grazing your flesh. “Just my neck. For now,” you added, “but I like when…when you bite it, too.”

“I can do that.” Eddie’s voice rasped. He bit down again, swiping his tongue over the mark to soothe your bruising skin.

You gripped his t-shirt, resisting every urge to pull it up over his head. It wouldn’t be the first time you saw him bare-chested; that honor had been bestowed upon you the night he arrived. But now you could kiss it, trace the lines of his tattoos with your finger, with your tongue…

You needed it. You needed to memorize him, to learn every square inch of his body.

His shirt hit the ground and your lips immediately found his shoulders. Eddie’s arms snaked around you, keeping you in place as your tongue explored the contoured muscle. 

“More,” he pleaded. “Fuck, keep kissing me there.”

Heat blossomed in your core. Your lips traveled, placing some marks of your own just below his collarbone, where they could be easily hidden. His skin was already tinged bluish-purple where you’d sucked and nibbled, proof that you had been there.

Eddie had pushed your own shirt right below your bra when the washing machine rattled, a stark reminder of where you were. Your chest and his rose and fell in syncopated beats. He loosened his grasp, letting your shirt fall back down your torso.

“Christ.” He chuckled, a low growl in his laughter. “I’m gonna need a second. You…Christ, Heiress.” 

Your eyes traveled to where he instinctively palmed the bulge straining against his jeans. You wanted to be the one to touch it, to relieve him of his pent-up frustrations. Maybe you’d even get some relief of your own. But your gradually slowing heart rate informed you that the moment had passed. 

“I, um…I didn’t just follow you in here to maul you like some horndog.” Eddie hopped off of the washer. He swiped his shirt from the floor and slid it over his head, once again cloaking his tattoos. 

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Hey.” Eddie bumped his elbow against your arm. His smile was uncharacteristically shy, which only made him more endearing. “My other reason for following you in here was because I wanted to see if you were free sometime this week.”

His hand brushed against yours. You let your fingers intertwine with his, soft and gentle in their touch. Your thumb grazed over one of the paler spots where he must’ve worn a ring. The coloring was beginning to match the rest of his finger as though the memory of the rings was fading away with time. 

“Yeah. I mean, I’m around during the day.”

Eddie hooked his free pointer finger through your belt loop. “Cool.” He cocked his head. “Do people really have romantic picnics in Central Park? Or is that just in the movies?”

You laughed, leaning in and lightly kissing his jaw. Everything about him was so tempting. If there was a way to sneak him into your room without either of your parents noticing, you’d do it in a heartbeat. 

“They do, but…” You shrugged. “Central Park is super overrated. In my opinion, anyway.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Another kiss, right below his ear this time. You could feel his body tense with each lingering touch. “Flushing Meadows is the superior park. Less crowded, shorter travel time, and you don’t have to worry about running into any Upper East Side snobs.”

Eddie tilted your chin so that you felt his lips on yours when he spoke. “Fuck those rich assholes.” The words were muffled and ended with him nipping at your lower lip; the slight pinch of pain from his teeth were sparks that set you alight. 

Your hands framed his face as you kissed him, his grasp tight on your lower back. A wanting groan vibrated in his throat when he felt your body against his. 

“Heiress.” Your nickname was molasses on his tongue, sweet and slow and syrupy. “Y’gotta let me take you on at least one more date before we do this. I’m tryna be a goddamn gentleman.”

He was right, even if his body seemed to protest. You needed to stop before you caused him physical pain. Needed to stop before you lost all semblance of control. Your first time with Eddie didn’t have to be caviar and champagne—and it likely would not be, given how broke you both were—but the occasion deserved to happen somewhere more private and more comfortable than the motel’s laundry room. 

Eddie breathed out consciously, trying to collect himself. “Does Thursday work for you?”

You blinked, batting away the fogginess left behind by his touch. “Thursday would be perfect.”

“Perfect,” Eddie echoed. A cautious, nervous smile curved his lips. He paused for a half-second before leaning in once more and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Its gentleness scorched your skin, flames licking in its wake.

The kiss rooted you to the ground for a second too long, and Eddie was already turning the doorknob before you could listen for any incoming foot traffic.

“Wait, we–”

His eyes widened when the opened door revealed Phyllis heading back to her room. “Didn’t realize laundry was a two person job,” she quipped, revealing a smile of cigarette-stained teeth. “Although…it takes two people to get the sheets dirty…”

“That’s not–we weren’t–” you sputtered helplessly, knowing that there was nothing you could say that would make the situation any better.

“Well, it’s either you two were messing around in there, or he stuck his finger in an electrical socket.” Phyllis gestured to Eddie’s hair, mussed and sticking up from where you’d thread your fingers through it. 

Eddie choked out a laugh, red creeping up his neck and coloring his cheeks. Even the tips of his ears turned a delicious shade of pink. “The washer was making a, um, a noise. But it’s fixed now.”

Phyllis’s forehead creased as her brows raised, not believing a word he said. “The noises I heard didn’t sound like machinery. They sounded more like—”

“Phyllis,” you hissed, hoping your embarrassment wasn’t overly palpable. 

The older woman took your hint and pivoted towards her room, seemingly satisfied with the buttons she’d already pushed. Though she likely hadn’t done it purposely, her comment about the noises served as a warning: If she heard them, your parents could have, too. 

You needed to be more careful. In order for this burgeoning relationship to have a chance at survival, you needed to keep it a secret. Phyllis knew, but her worst offense would be quiet ribbings. Not everyone would remain so tight-lipped. 

“Thursday…let’s meet at the bus stop.” There was the chance of someone seeing you together there, but at least it was less suspicious than Eddie knocking on your door. 

Confusion rippled across Eddie’s face for a beat before he composed himself. “Yeah. Sounds good.” 

Good. A definite few steps down from his earlier declaration of perfect. Your heart sank, joining the lead ball of anxiety currently sitting in your stomach. 

He’ll understand, you told yourself. He knew how it felt to have all sorts of external pressure pushing down on him; a weight too great to fight. It would all be fine. 

Yet you couldn’t convince yourself that that was the truth, nor could you bring yourself to look back at him as you rushed to the front desk. You were suddenly eager for a chore or two to keep your thoughts at bay. 

Amy’s Café was quieter than its usual bustling pace during the semester, and you easily snagged a table for three. It seemed like a blessing at the time, but now…

“Hold on,” Nora said through a bite of croissant. She held up her forefinger, signaling you and Ben to stay quiet until she finished chewing. “So you and Eddie were making out in the laundry room—”

“Don’t forget the part where she took off his shirt,” Ben added. 

Nora nodded, brushing crumbs off of her hands. “Basically feeling each other up. And then Phyllis caught you, and he pretended that he was fixing the washing machine?” She laughed incredulously.

Ben put down his mug and shook his head. “It’s a good thing you didn’t get carried away. Imagine conceiving your child in the motel laundry room, ten feet away from your parents at the resident prostitute.”

“Oh, my god.” You buried your face in your hands. “We’ve gone on one date and you’re already talking about me having his baby?”

“People have made babies without going on any dates,” Ben pointed out. Nora just snickered. 

“I hate you both.” You glanced between the two of them. It was hard to believe they’d met for the first time today. The way they effortlessly teased you in tandem was impressive for people who were basically strangers. “Can we please change the subject?”

Nora leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Not a chance. In fact,” she looked at Ben and then back to you, “we need to know more. Like, what are you wearing for this second date?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off as nonchalant, though you’d been wondering the same thing. “I dunno. It’s a picnic, so nothing fancy, I guess.” 

Your friends found that answer insufficient, both of them rolling their eyes in tandem. Ben took a bite of blueberry muffin and said nothing, but Nora plunged right ahead.

“Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

Nora sighed. “You never let yourself enjoy things. You should be happy about this. A hot guy is staying at your motel and can’t keep his hands off of you, and you’re all Mopey Magee about it.”

“I’m not Mopey Magee,” you mumbled, but she was right. Every time excitement began bubbling up, you shoved it back down. Every time your mind wandered, dipping into thoughts about a cozy future spent with Eddie, you yanked yourself back. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be happy; you just needed to stay realistic. Eddie wanted to be a rockstar, always on the go and living on the edge. You wanted to be a social worker, to come home and curl up with a good book. You’d be tucking yourself into bed as Eddie’s night was just beginning, and you’d wake up in the morning just as he was going to sleep. 

Not to mention the women, especially Death Echo’s badass drummer. And it didn’t help that she was Eddie’s ex. No matter how far you let your imagination stretch, you would never be her.

“Hey.” Ben rested his hand on yours, his eyes kind and free of judgment. “We just want you to be excited. Eddie seems like a…decent guy.” Clearly, he wasn’t fully convinced after the fiasco of their first meeting, though he’d thawed out a bit since Eddie helped clean the vandalism.

Nora nudged him from her seat. “He’s more than decent. He took a cab all the way to school to bring her paper. He sang a lovey-dovey karaoke song for her. And he had enough respect to not completely maul her in the laundry room.” She looked at you and asked pointedly, “Tell us the truth: would you have fucked him if he didn’t stop you?”

“Nora!” Your entire body flooded with heat. It was all the confirmation Nora needed. 

“See? He’s a good guy,” she declared. Case closed. “I bet he wants to, like, decorate the bed with rose petals and all of that corny shit.”

“He’ll probably play his guitar and serenade you.” Ben relented with a smirk. “Naked.”

You stood up, the back of your legs pushing your chair behind you. “Okay, thank you both very much for your insight, but I’m gonna go.” 

You refused to admit that you were currently picturing Eddie as Ben had portrayed him. His guitar would rest on his bare thighs, his chest on full display. That beautiful body that drew your lips to each inch of skin, no matter if tattooed or unmarked. 

“You know you love us,” Nora trilled. 

And you did. They only wanted what was best for you. Yes, you would love to lose yourself in daydreams of Eddie Munson, his strong arms wrapped around you, his tongue hungrily exploring your body. Yes, your stomach fluttered each time he smiled at you, called you beautiful, or took your hand in his. But was that worth lying to your parents about yet another part of your life?

The question branded you with a headache, one that sat right behind your eyes and thudded against your skull with each step back home. You did everything you could to focus on the pain instead of its cause.

By now, you were well-acquainted with Eddie’s schedule, which meant you were able to meet him outside the subway station before he returned to the motel. You’d had a moment of panic that morning just as you drifted off to sleep: your parents would immediately be suspicious if they saw the two of you leaving together, especially in your current outfit. Nora had dropped off a floral sundress, the tag still on it, and quietly proclaimed that Eddie wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you in it. It wasn’t until later that you noticed the back of the tag where she’d scrawled ‘happy boning!’ in tiny letters.

There certainly wouldn’t be any boning; not in the middle of the park. That was too far out of your comfortable zone, even if you weren’t trying to hide your relationship.

“I’m hanging out with Nora,” you told Dad before he even looked up from reading the newspaper. “Be back later.”

Your sandals thwacked against the pavement as you hurried out the door, not even pausing to hear if Dad had responded.

You nearly collided with Eddie halfway down the block. He held his guitar case in one hand and a plastic grocery bag in the other. His focused expression shifted to one of excitement when he saw you. 

“Didn’t expect to bump into you here.” He lifted the guitar slightly. “Let me just put this back in my room so I’m not lugging it all over Queens.”

Eddie started back towards the motel, pausing when he realized you weren’t following him. 

“You comin’?”

You shook your head. Dad might not have noticed you leaving in your new dress, but he would definitely notice you going back and forth with Eddie Munson in tow. 

“I’ll wait right here.” You tried peeking into the bag as he walked away, but he tugged it back and out of your sight. “What’s in there?”

His eyes lit up. “Patience is a virtue, dear Heiress,” he drawled. He leaned in to plant a dramatic kiss on your forehead before rushing towards the motel’s front door. 

The spot where he’d laid his lips still tingled for a moment after he left. If you could work up the nerve, if your head and your heart could cooperate, you would pull him in for the longest kiss of his life. But doubt creeped in before even he returned. If someone saw you…if Mom or Dad took a look around the door to see where Eddie was going…if a guest got an eyeful and made a comment about it to them…

“Okay, I’m back.” Eddie grinned, grabbing your hand with his empty one. “Your dad tried to pull me into a conversation about the Mets. I had to break the devastating news that I’m not a sports guy.” He laughed and adjusted his hand to better grasp yours. 

You barely registered the movement. “Did you tell him where you—we—were going?” If Eddie told Dad about the date…

Eddie shook his head. “Nah, just said I had to run.” His nose wrinkled in confusion. “Why? Are we not supposed to be going to the park or something?”

How could you explain it to him without hurting his feelings? ‘We can’t be seen together’ might be true, but far too harsh. Nor did you want to embroil yourself in another lie. You mulled over your words for a few seconds before speaking. 

“I just don’t want them asking a bunch of questions that even we don’t know the answers to.”

That was honest enough, you supposed. This was only your second date; far too early for any serious ‘what are your intentions with my daughter?’ speeches even under normal circumstances. The fact that Mom had explicitly warned you against dating guests would remain omitted for now.

He nodded in agreement, and your chest sagged with relief that he didn’t push the topic further. Instead, you enveloped yourself in the temporary safety that came with holding Eddie’s hand. The way his calloused palm pressed to yours, his grip tight yet without unwarranted possessiveness. Each brush of his thumb stoked the fire steadily building within you.

You once again tried to steal a glimpse of the surprise inside the bag once you found seats on the bus, but Eddie remained steadfast in his decision to keep it out of your view.

“It’s a surprise,” he practically whined, pouting to make you laugh. “C’mon, I’m trying to be romantic on a budget. Cut me a break here.”

“Fine.” But the moment he let his guard down, you swiped at the bag. Eddie was stealthier than you gave him credit for, and he held it shut between his legs. “Eddie!”

Eddie placed his hands on your cheeks, trapping you in place. “Don’t…ruin…the…surprise.” He kissed you between each word, little pecks on the lips that became increasingly more difficult to land as you both smiled. “You really are impossible.”

You begrudgingly relented, resting your head on his shoulder for the remainder of the bus ride. He shifted his stance every so often to purse his lips and kiss your forehead. You let out a contented sigh, the tension in your body fleeing with each gentle touch.

Flushing Meadows Park was relatively quiet when you and Eddie arrive. Kids were still in school until the end of the month, and nine-to-fivers were still at work. Besides you two, there were only an assortment of joggers, a few bird-watching retirees, and some particularly rowdy squirrels 

Eddie led you to a shaded spot beneath the branches of an old oak tree. He dug into his bag and pulled out a cloth, spreading it out on the overgrown grass. The fabric and color looked awfully familiar. It was almost as if…

“Is that your bedsheet?”

Eddie grinned sheepishly. “I couldn’t let you sit right on the grass. Besides,” he added, tone heavy with mischief, “it gives us another excuse to do laundry together.”

“We’re lucky we didn’t get caught the first time,” you muttered. But you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be pressed up against him, to feel him stiffen beneath his jeans as his tongue explored your mouth. 

He laughed as you both sat down, a melody if you’d ever heard one. He continued unpacking, placing foil-wrapped sandwiches, a small plastic container of pre-cut melon, and a bag of store-brand chocolate chip cookies onto the sheet. The last thing he dug out was two glass bottles of Yoo-Hoo chocolate milk, handing it directly to you. It was still relatively cold, a miracle in the early summer humidity. 

“Only the finest cuisine for my date.” He unscrewed the bottle cap and waited for you to do the same. He raised the bottle, clinking it against yours. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you echoed, taking a swig. You hadn’t had chocolate milk since you were a kid, and it was all at once nostalgic and too sugary, but you couldn’t get enough.

Eddie’s eyes rake over you, pupils fixated on the neckline of your sundress. His tongue darted out to lick up a droplet of milk that was caught in the corner of his mouth. “You look beautiful. You are beautiful,” he amended. One hand found your knee, and he rested it where the dress’s cotton fabric met your skin.

It had been a while since a man had called you beautiful, save for the cat-callers who pressed their luck from where they leaned against buildings and worked at construction sites. The compliment sent warmth surging through you, your head so airy that you hardly register the smile blooming on your face.

How would he react if you just leaned in and kissed him, mouths crashing together in a hunger that would remain forever unsatisfied? What would he do if you straddled his waist and let the hem of your dress cover the fly of his jeans?

You swallowed the thought, tempering the heat that fluttered in your core as you unwrapped one of the sandwiches. The cheese had cooled but was still melted, and a few strips of bacon peeked out from the sides of the roll. Your mouth watered just looking at it.

Eddie tucked into his own identical sandwich, a groan tumbling from his lips as he savored the taste. “I will never understand how those tiny corner stores make the best food. Like, better than all of those fancy-ass restaurants I went to for dinners with execs.”

“Those ‘corner stores’ are called ‘bodegas,’” you corrected through a cheesy mouthful. “If you’re gonna stick around, you’ve gotta start talking like a New Yorker.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie raised his brows, one corner of his mouth turning up in a knowing grin. “I gotta start tawk-ing like a New Yawk-er?”

“I don’t sound like that!”

He ignored you, continuing to massacre the stereotypical New York City accent. “Maybe on our next date, we can grab some caw-fee and go for a waw-k around the pah-k.”

“First of all, you pronounced ‘park’ like a Bostonian, which is a cardinal sin around here. Second, there won’t be another date if you keep making fun of me.”

“My apologies, Heiress.” Eddie placed his hand on his chest, and you immediately felt its absence from your leg. “I’ll be sure to more accurately mock you in the future.”

He was insufferable in the most endearing way. You took his hand, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles, and brought it back to where it was. He gave your thigh a small squeeze; not inherently sexual, but made your pulse quicken all the same.

You retrieved your breath from where it had hitched in your throat and opened the plastic container of melon. With delicate fingers as to not touch every piece, you plucked a cantaloupe cube from the pile and took a bite. The juice trickled down your chin; you cupped your hand beneath it to catch the droplets before they stained the bed sheet.

Eddie, meanwhile, kept his gaze plastered to how your lips wrapped around the fruit. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly and he coughed as though snapping himself out of a daze. 

“You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah.” He managed a smile and popped a piece of melon in his mouth, chewing if only to keep himself busy until he could concentrate on something besides your parted lips. “Peachy keen.” With another slight twitch of his mouth, let out a cough. 

It dawned on you, then, that he was losing control, and that you were the cause. If you indulged him in his desire–desire that you admittedly shared–you’d soon find yourselves pawing at each other on an old bed sheet in the middle of a public park.

You couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t let desperation get the best of you. You knew better.

Instead, you surveyed your surroundings for any other conversation topic. Grass, blooming flowers, the ants parading towards a puddle of spilled soda.

You took another swig of chocolate milk, hoping it would cool you from the inside out. “Yoo-Hoo was an interesting drink choice.” The words were strangled, forced, too abrupt. 

Eddie knew it, too, but he played along. Perhaps more for his sake than yours, but he still loosened a chuckle. “Yeah, I saw them at the cor—bodega, and it reminded me of when I was a kid.” Fiddling with the discarded sandwich wrapper, he continued. “My uncle would buy one on every payday. A Yoo-Hoo for me and a lotto scratcher for himself.”

“Did you get more Yoo-Hoo if he won anything?”

“Nah.” He crumpled the sandwich foil into a ball. “That went towards bills.”

Right. Eddie had told you that he grew up in poverty, sharing a tiny trailer with his uncle. Any extra money wasn’t really extra at all. 

You knew the feeling. How many times had you found loose change on the ground or a dropped dollar at the subway token booth and slipped it into the motel’s register?

“How did he feel about you pursuing music?” You were back on the right track, retreating into topics as far away from sex as possible.

Eddie shrugged, his shoulders holding a story that he wasn’t ready to tell. “He wasn’t thrilled. Wanted me to have something steady, something I could count on.” So I didn’t end up bartering to stay in a shitty Queens motel remained unspoken. “But he was the one who bought me my first guitar, so it’s partially his fault.”

There was that smirk, the one that turned your knees into jelly. God, to be on your knees for him, to taste what lay behind that godforsaken zipper–

You scrambled to patch up the cracks that might allow desperation to seep through. “Did you always want to be a musician?” 

“Pretty much. I mean, when I was really young, I wanted to be a dinosaur.”

You burst out into laughter, slapping your hand across your mouth to contain it all. Out of all of the things he could have said, ‘I wanted to be a dinosaur’ was nowhere near your list of possibilities. “A…dinosaur?”

“Yup. A triceratops, to be exact.” 

“Mhm.” What was going on? How did we get here? You chalked it up to being a blessing in disguise, a definite pivot from your racy thoughts. “Any particular reason?”

Did you want to know?

“The horns seemed cool. And good for impaling.”

You tucked your lips into your mouth and stifled a laugh, trying to keep a serious face. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

“Yeah, I was real bummed when I found out they were already extinct.” He pursed his lips and tilted his head towards you, breaking out into a smile. “So, any updates on social work school?”

You almost shook your head before you remembered. “There’s this event they’re doing where admitted students get to tour the campus, meet each other, talk to advisors...”

“You gonna go?”

“I probably should.” It would be a great opportunity for you to get your bearings and register for classes. “Are you busy next Friday?”

“Next Friday? Let me check my schedule.” Eddie feigned contemplation for a beat, then looked at you with a smile that flipped your stomach. “Free as a bird. Why, does the Heiress need to be accompanied to her Smart People Gathering?”

You stuck out your tongue in mock annoyance. Eddie grabbed it by the tip, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re a brat.”

His eyes bore into yours, holding your gaze even as he let go. He’d set the challenge: You make him beg to tag along, or you back down and admit that you wanted him to join you.

You chose the former.

“I mean, I can take Nora if you’re busy. Or Ben.” 

Jealousy flashed across Eddie’s face at your flippant reply. Did you have to add Ben? Probably not. Was it fun to watch Eddie squirm? Absolutely.

“I’ll take you.” He didn’t need to say it; not when his brief scowl already proclaimed that you won. 

Grinning, you kissed his cheek triumphantly. “Great.” You wiped at where your lipstick had left a smudge. “But the next time you grab my tongue, I’ll bite you.”

Without missing a beat, he growled, “Maybe I want you to.” 

You couldn’t temper your reaction, not with his voice reaching a bass note that signaled that his desire was just as strong as yours. Without warning, you anchored yourself in his lap, legs on either side of his, and let your teeth graze the skin above his collarbone. You bit down just enough to make him utter a tiny yelp. 

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass as he pulled you forward, your core now directly atop his. Instinct kicked in and your hips moved of their own accord, your cotton panties dragging over his fly, already wet just from your proximity to him.

Teeth clicked and tongues found one another, the kiss somehow sloppier and more ravenous than the tipsy one you’d shared a few nights earlier. You grabbed hold of his t-shirt, the fabric bunching in your shaking palms as you brought him closer, closer, still never close enough…

Eddie nipped at your lower lip, one palm sliding up to cup your cheek. His touch teetered between a timid ‘you’re mine?’ and a possessive ‘you’re mine,’ opposing sides in a battle to claim and be claimed. His own hips hedged upwards, the friction equal parts tantalizing and torturous.

God, you wanted him. You wanted him to flip you over and pin you down, hands grasping your wrists hard enough to leave a bruise. You wanted to remember that he was there, that he was on you, with you. You wanted to stare at those marks from the privacy of your own room and recount how he’d taken you in public. 

And then you heard it–your name. Not ‘Heiress,’ nor did it come from Eddie’s kiss-swollen lips. The voice was feminine and familiar.

You broke the kiss, your blood running ice cold as you swiveled around to see Aunt Tam and Uncle Mo standing before you. Aunt Tam’s brows were raised in a combination of disappointment and disbelief; Uncle Mo’s cheeks were splotched pink in pure embarrassment–a feeling you knew all too well.

You froze, your fingers now tangled in Eddie’s frizzy curls as reality sunk in, squashing down most of the lust connecting you to him. You’d been spotted dry humping Eddie in the middle of the park by your parents’ best friends. People who’d known you since you were born.

Too quickly, you removed yourself from Eddie’s lap and smoothed out the hem of your sundress, as though your aunt and uncle would forget what they’d just witnessed if it wasn’t happening anymore. 

This was bad. Worse than bad; this was humiliating. You wanted to beg them not to tell your parents, a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar, but the words clung to your throat. Instead, and much more shamefully, tears ran down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, we just–we got carried away, we shouldn’t have–I’m so sorry, please don’t say anything to my parents–”

Damn it. Damn it all to hell. Why couldn’t you just keep yourself in control? 

Aunt Tam cleared her throat, shaking herself from surprise. “No, I’m sorry for interrupting. I just wasn’t expecting to see, um, that.” The coloring of her cheeks now matched her husband’s as they hurried away, unable to leave fast enough. “Enjoy your picnic. Good to, uh, see you both.”

Everything was suddenly too much. The sun was too bright, the birds were chirping too loudly, the grass beneath the sheet was too sharp. 

You scrambled to clean up the remaining food, all of which now looked as appetizing as a pile of mud. You couldn’t even look at Eddie when you spoke. “We should go home.”

“Heiress, it’s fine. Calm down–”

“I can’t calm down!” Too snappy, too harsh, but you no longer had the capacity to care. “My parents will kill me if they find out we were together.”

Confusion knitted Eddie’s brows together. “You’re a grown adult. And it’s not like we were naked and getting arrested for public indecency.”

His lack of understanding only strengthened your frustration. “No, I–it’s just not a good look for me to be fooling around with a guest.”

There was no mistaking the hurt in Eddie’s scoff. “I mean, we’re on a date…and we’re kinda a…a thing, right?” He chewed on his lower lip, and you felt a wall come up, that same barrier he’d erected when you’d all but accused him of vandalizing Eisen’s. “I didn’t realize I was just a guest.”

“Yeah, no–I mean, we are a thing,” you rushed to explain, “and you’re not just a guest to me, but you technically are still a guest.” 

“Right.” Eddie stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I get it. Yeah. I just thought…never mind.” He blew out a breath and stooped down to help you clean up.

You forced yourself to speak again, terrified that you’d shatter this already fragile moment. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice so low that you weren’t sure he’d even hear it.

“S’okay.”

But it wasn’t. You knew it wasn’t okay even when he reached back and laced his fingers with yours. It was no longer an act of affection, but one of needed reassurance. And it didn’t fix the gaping chasm; you weren’t sure how to fix it, or if it could be fixed at all.

It was a Band-Aid on a bullet wound, and time was ticking until it bled out.

--

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[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Can you write something hinny that includes the phrase “you are everything to me” or something in that vein of romantic confessionals?

This turned out a big angstier/sadder than you might've hoped, but here it is anyway <3

It wasn’t a very happy birthday, all things considered. 

There had been cake - chocolate. Presents - more than usual. Singing - respectably on-key. Guests - so many that they’d spilled out into the yard. All the typical ingredients for an excellent party. 

But.

Mum had been crying when she’d frosted the cake. 

Ginny had received a new broomstick (Harry), a lovely necklace (her parents), expensive French perfume (Bill and Fleur); a particularly good haul, even for seventeen. And yet, she’d swallowed the lump in her throat when, rather than a customary box of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products, she’d opened new Quidditch boots. Happy seventeenth, from George, the card had said. Just George.

Their plucky rendition of Happy Birthday sounded hollow without Fred shrieking an off-key upper harmony. Mum had always said he ruined it, all those years of birthdays with seven kids. Now, without it, the song seemed broken beyond repair. But, asking them not to sing it at all had seemed worse, somehow. 

Mum and Dad and Bill and Fleur and Charlie and Percy and Audrey and George and Ron and Hermione and Harry and Kingsley and Hagrid and Luna and Neville and Hannah and Andromeda and Teddy and…

No Fred. No Lupin. No Tonks. No Collin. Their absence was glaring. A dementor that sucked all the happiness from the room. 

She’d put on a brave face through it all. Eaten the cake even though it tasted like tears, thanked them all for the gifts that had broken her heart, cheekily conducted a song that she’d rather never hear again, tried to breathe around the gaping chasm her brother had left behind. 

Not a very happy birthday, at all. But they’re trying to make it one, and perhaps eventually the trying will work. 

One has to hope. 

For now, the firewhiskey will have to supplement. 

Ginny is pleasantly buzzed by the time the non-family guests have gone. Mum is busying herself in the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to hide a new bout of tears. Her father and brothers - sans George - are all lazing around the den, half heartedly listening to the wireless - Wasps vs. Tornados. George had gone up to bed an hour ago, but Ginny couldn’t blame him. Hermione, Percy, and Fleur are talking about the Beauxbatons exam curriculum, something Ginny wants exactly zero part in.

One person, she notices, is conspicuously absent. 

She finds him out on the swing in the garden, looking out over the orchard, a glass of what appears to be firewhiskey in his hand. 

She allows herself a moment just to look at him - disheveled hair and handsome face and sharp jaw. She knows, logically, that Harry is safe now, and yet she can’t quite quell the old instinct to drink him in. One last look at him, like she might never get another, like she’ll have to cling onto this one, ration it out to recall when she needs to. 

It’s stupid, anyway. The memory of him had never been even close to the real thing, but in that long year apart she’d never stopped trying to remember the exact shape of his eyes, the way he had a dimple in his left cheek when he smirked at her, the way his hands were solid and sure and so good at making her feel things she’d never–

“Gin?”

He notices her standing there, and offers her a half-smile through the darkness. She can just make out the glint of his eyes behind his specs. 

“Thought you’d left,” she says, aiming for teasing but ending up somewhere just shy of it. “Alright if I join you out here?”

“Of course,” he says, as though offended she’d even asked. “Plenty of room.”

There is, but she snuggles up next to him anyway, her added weight causing them to sway gently on the swing. He drops an arm over her shoulder, and a kiss to her temple, and pulls her up against him. The vague thrum of anxiety that had plagued her all day seems to quiet under the warm weight of his touch. 

“Happy birthday,” Harry says. He’d said it earlier, with everyone, but she likes hearing it again, just for her. 

Ginny hums. “Yeah, I suppose. Mum’s crying again, and George went up to bed ages ago. Dead grim in there. Dunno why Mum insisted we do this whole party when it’s made her so bloody miserable, I’d have been alright with a normal dinner.”

“It’s your seventeenth, though,” Harry points out. “Suppose she wanted it to be special. It should be special.”

“Well, we put on a good show of it, anyway,” Ginny says, reaching over and snatching the glass of firewhisky from Harry’s grip and stealing a gulp. She relishes the burn of it. 

Harry lets out a small breath of a laugh, pinches at her side for her thievery, but he lets her do it anyway. He tugs the glass back out of her grip once she’s finished and takes another gulp himself. 

“It’s what we’ve got to do though, isn’t it?” Harry says suddenly. “Pretend it’s alright until it is.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’ll ever be alright, really,” Ginny says cynically, snuggling deeper into Harry’s embrace. “Or at least, it’ll never be the way it was.”

“No,” Harry agrees, and he sounds more serious than she wants him to. 

God, what is wrong with her? She used to be better at this: lightening the mood with a joke or some good banter, fighting off the gloom. She doesn’t want to sit out here on her seventeenth birthday with her boyfriend and talk about death.

After a minute, she can sense Harry is searching for words. She leans back so that she can look up at his face, and finds he’s staring straight ahead, chewing on something. He seems to be on the precipice of speech, but then he takes another gulp of his drink. 

“What is it?” Ginny breathes. 

“Nothing,” Harry says quickly. “It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not,” Ginny says firmly. She can’t imagine ever finding anything he has to tell her stupid. 

He looks down to meet her eye, and god. He makes her feel too much, like her heart is overbrimming and spilling out over her bones. 

“I just…” he struggles. He seems to find his words. “I was just thinking that I’m really glad I chose to live so that I could be here at your shite birthday party.”

“Oh, thanks,” Ginny snorts before the entirety of his words strike her. “I really appreciate–” She cuts herself off and sits up straight. “Hang on. What do you mean, ‘chose to live’?”

Harry averts his eye and takes another sip of firewhiskey. 

The question hangs in the evening air, and as the silence swells, Ginny realizes she isn’t sure that she wants to hear the answer. 

They’d spent weeks, filling each other in about the last year in dribs and drabs. She doesn’t yet have the full picture of all he’d been through, of all that had happened, but she doesn’t begrudge him. There are sore spots in her own past she’d rather not press – not yet, not just now – things she hasn’t been able to find the words to say to him yet. 

She reckons the same is true for him, too. She’d never wanted to press him, but it had not escaped her notice there is a gaping hole in her understanding of what had transpired in May: Harry, dead in Hagrid’s arms. 

He’d gone into the forest to die, and he’d come out alive. That’s all she knows, and frankly it’s all she’d mustered up the courage to ask. There seem to be too many painful doors to open down that particular avenue, things like why didn’t you say goodbye and did you know you’d come back and were you scared and I thought you were dead and I felt like I was too. 

They hadn’t touched it, and yet Harry seemed to be offering it to her, now. 

“What do you mean?” she says more softly, more bravely. “You chose to live?”

And so he tells her. Slowly, and stilted, but his hand is warm in hers. Snape’s memories. Learning that he had to die. The long walk into the forest. Finding Voldemort. 

“...I closed my eyes and I thought of you,” Harry says, like it’s just some part of the story, like he’s not breaking her heart and stitching it back together in one with these words. “So that you’d be the last thing I saw, and then he did it. Avada Kedavra. And I was gone.”

He presses a hand to his chest, and Ginny can picture the green light striking him there. She can’t fathom any of it, how difficult it must’ve been for him to walk to his own execution, how scared he must have been, how he could possibly still be sitting, living and breathing, beside her now. She grips his hand so tightly that it’s a wonder he has any feeling in it at all. 

Harry shifts uncomfortably, and his words are awkward now. “I still don’t know if any of it was real, or if it was just something I imagined while I was… wherever I was. But I… I spoke with Dumbledore. Or… I imagined I did, I dunno. About a lot of things, but mainly that I could choose to go, you know, on. Or I could go back and live again, if I wanted.”

He explains of the protection his mother’s love had left him with, that had tethered him to life despite the Killing Curse to his chest. 

Harry’s grip on her hand tightens, and he turns to meet her eyes fully for the first time since he began speaking. He wipes his other hand wearily over his face, and sighs. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit drunk. This is… it’s your birthday. I didn’t mean to–”

“Harry,” Ginny interrupts gently. “Go on.”

Harry inhales, bracing himself against the memory. “I knew if I chose to come back, I’d be coming back to the war, and Voldemort, and everyone I loved dying. And for a minute the thought of just… leaving it all behind, being at peace with my parents, and Sirius, and Lupin…”

Ginny can imagine how strong of a pull that must’ve been. She grips him harder, as though he’s facing the choice again at this moment and she might be able to tether him to her with her fingers.

“But then I thought of you, and the life I wanted – I want, with you. And I knew I had to come back, even if it meant dealing with all of the shite that came with it.”

Just like with the rest of it, he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s said anything of any particular import, but the words burrow under her skin and make a home there, painful and vulnerable and hopeful. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry says anxiously, interrupting himself as he looks at her expression. “Shit, Ginny, I didn’t–”

Ginny realizes she has tears streaming down her cheeks. She wipes them away impatiently. 

“--shit timing, it’s all a bit heavy for your birthday, isn’t it?” Harry babbles. “I just said it because I know today was dead grim, and you’re right, things will probably never be the same. But I just kept thinking that I’m so glad we’ll get to do it all again next year and for the first time that doesn’t seem like–”

She cuts off his anxious babbling with a kiss, hard and searing, and she holds his chin in her hands, precious, appreciating how very close she came to rationing memories of him for the rest of her life. 

She pulls away, her head still spinning with all that she’d told her. She needed to think about it, ask more questions about Snape and Voldemort and Horcruxes and blood magic. But most pressingly: “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You’re telling me that I’m the last thing you thought of when you went to die, and the reason you decided to live?”

Harry stares at her. “Well, when you put it like that– I suppose, yeah. Yes.”

Ginny shakes her head slowly, helplessly. “Harry.”

“I love you,” Harry says, like this is all the explanation that’s needed, because perhaps it is. He’s said this to her every day for weeks, but this is the first time she truly appreciates that love is a verb; that he’s not describing a state of being but rather something he’s actively doing: loving her. 

“I’m not always the best with words–” Harry continues, and Ginny nearly chokes. “--but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and it’s not even a competition, really. You’re everything. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you, or anything, I realize now how that all sounded and–”

“I love you, too,” Ginny says fiercely, ignoring any out he’s offering her, like she’d want one. “And I want to talk about the rest of it, all of it. I can’t believe you had to– I don’t even want to think about–” Ginny shakes her head. “You haven’t put any pressure on me, other than I don’t know how I’m meant to respond to that in a way that measures up–”

“No, you don’t–”

“But I love you,” Ginny presses on. “So much. And that’s what I want with you too, all of it, everything. I always have. I’m… so glad you came back because I don’t know what I’d have done if–”

“Gin–”

Ginny kisses him again, desperate. Harry says he’s the one who’s no good with words but Ginny has never been less articulate in her life. Instead she tries to pour the contents of her heart into the fingers she runs through his hair, the grip of her hands over his chest where his heart beats reassuringly beneath his warm skin, the press of her lips against his. 

She pulls back, eyes wet, breathing heavily. Harry’s looking at her with that soft wonder that he sometimes gets, an expression she might understand a bit better now. “That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, but if you ever try to go off alone and die again, I will kill you myself. Don’t you ever do that again, alright?”

Harry grins. “Alright. I think I can manage that.”

“Good.”

A grin spreads across Ginny’s face, and now they’re just two grinning idiots on a swing who want to spend forever together, and for the first time there isn’t any glaring obstacle in the way of it. She allows herself to picture it - a nice cozy home to share, a wedding, kids with messy hair and green eyes, a life that might grow around the grief in her chest. 

She settles back into his arms, snug against him, miraculously alive and hers. She loves him so much it has nowhere to go. 

“I am sorry your birthday was shite, though,” Harry says. 

“It wasn’t,” Ginny says, and she means it.

[spookypete-94]

House Shopping with Simon Riley

Little drabble right before shift starts at work. Literally what the title says, but with public (not sure if you can call it that) but... having in a relations in a place you shouldn't?? SimonRileyxFemale!reader

Language, p in v, quickie

but just know NSFW NSFW NSFW!!!

Somehow, you had domesticated Simon "Ghost" Riley. It was baffling to everyone, including The Ghost himself. Not to you, however. Loving him was easy in your eyes. Someone so patient as you finding no chore in the task.

And that's why Simon literally bent over backward for you. Never at your request, though. You needed something? He was there with it shortly after you said it would help. Even when you wouldn't say anything. He noticed the tires on your car getting bald, paying for a new set, and replacing the worn ones.

It was the least he could do for you. So when it came to the next step, moving from a small flat to an actual house, he didn't hesitate. It had to be a place to make into a home. Strong, sound four walls to make sure you were in a safe place while he was away. With a nice view preferably with no close neighbors to be watching you while he couldn't shield you. A place with a kitchen for meals, and a big one at that. The bedroom needed to be large and spacious for your bed. Maybe even a few other rooms to fill later down the road with little bodies split of the image of you both. Only the best for his, Love.

Finally, a realtor had found a house with all the list of his demands. Taking the day, he told you to dress nice, business casual. You had dressed in a white crisp cotton collard shirt with a tight pencil skirt, and him in a white shirt matching with a black tie and slacks.

"Where are we going?"

"Lawyer."

"A lawyer?!" You asked, shocked, looking at him stunned while he backed up the vehicle, his arm draped over onto your seat.

"Lawyer." He confirmed.

"What for?"

"You'll see when we get there, calm down."

Fiddling with the hem of your skirt the entire time of the drive, you continued with the same nervous habit in the lawyer's office. Only now, you were bouncing your knee as well. Simon's hand reaching over and squeezing your thigh, his way of telling you silently to calm down.

The lawyer had sat down at his desk with a stack of paperwork next to him. It was about the third or fourth page in the stack that you understood that this had to do with a large sum of money. You just didn't understand what for. Your suspicion signified from a raised eyebrow to Simon, but all he wore was a knowing smirk.

"Just need you both to sign these pages," the lawyer you didn't even know his proper name said.

"What am I signing?" You asked

"Just trust me," Simon said, leaning forward pen in hand and sliding the paper over to you.

You sighed, frustrated, but his words enough to quell your worry and anxiety.

You tried to glance over the paperwork, still looking for any hints of what you were signing your life away too, but the jarble of the language too much to just get by skimming.

"Did you find one then?" The lawyer asked.

"Still have to look at it, but believe so." Simon answered.

Conveniently, all was said as you were signing the last page, leaving you unable to ask any questions. Simon stood up, hand out to you to grab. Feeling annoyed and left out, you did it anyway.

"Good luck," Mr. Unknown lawyer waved to you both as you left.

"Simon," your eyes burning into the side of his head.

"It's a surprise..." he said while laughing, watching you roll your eyes and groaning at the same time ,"I'm gonna show you."

"Show me?"

"Sit back," he said, giving you a side eye, tired of your questions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shock you felt was unexplainable when he pulled into a driveway of a home with a FOR SALE sign in the front yard.

"Si-mon," dragging his name out for effect.

"I want us to buy a home together." Blurting it like it had been killing him to hide from you.

"You're serious?"

"As a heart attack. Taking money out of a firm that I've had stored away for a while. This is the house closest that fits what I want to give you."

"SI-mon." The excitement you felt when he told he what he had been planning.

"Come on, realtor is waiting," he said, finally opening his car door. Quickly, you joined him, your heels clacking on the cement driveway with joy.

Just as Simon had said, there in the doorway stood a woman who was there to show the house. Holding a clipboard in a green pantsuit and large black rimmed glasses looking all prim and proper with a large smile. Ready to sell this house.

To say the house was stunning was an understatement. Vaulted ceilings, large kitchen with an island in the middle, pantry just off of it. Multiple bathrooms on both floors of the house. Natural light from the windows for days. Your attention was now looking over the bedrooms. Checking out a smaller closet that was between the master bedroom and guest room. The realtor you had learned her name as Peggy, walking around a room in the opposite direction.

What shocked you was Simon pushing you into this small linen closet and shutting the door behind him.

"Simon!" you said his name for the upteenth time today.

"Shhhhhh," he said grinning deviously as he stood before you.

The hot air from his shushing made your skin prickle, but him removing his black tye in a swift motion made your blood run cold. He made a swift loop after lifting your wrists above your head, wrapping it up around a wooden rod to hold hangers just above your head. Then, he pulled it tight as gently as your torso stretched perking your chest to him.

"So hard, not to touch you like this. " his mouth against your cheek and then into your ear. "Skirt looks so nice on you." Gasping, feeling his teeth nip into the pillar on your neck.

"Need ta' test the bones of this house, make sure it's good enough." Coy with a shit eating smile.

His fingers slipping up your skirt, pushing it up at the same time. There he rubbed against your core, making you moan.

"Shhhh," he said while chuckling. "Can't have Peggy hearing us. Worked so hard to find this house, can't ruin her work now." Teasing into your ear while he rubbed circles into your clit. Instead of taking the risk of getting caught, you leaned your head into his chest, masking your sounds there.

Pushing your panties to the side, his fingers rub your bare pussy. What he was doing was testing the waters, checking to see if you were wet enough to take him. Little did he know, your gates of arousal started to flood seeing him slip his tye off so quickly, revealing the collarbone you love to sink your teeth into.

"Dirty girl," he cooed into your ear while plunging a finger in. The stretch felt good but was pulled from you quickly. Your eyes narrowed at him in disappointment, but quickly changed to euphoria as his cock entered you abruptly.

You bit your lip trying to contain your moans, the whole situation hot to you. His large hands gripped your waist and set you on a narrow shelf, you assumed it was for shoes, but it was perfect for this. It allowed him to enter you faster and deeper. The position brought you closer to the brink, his pace perfect.

Your body was starting to catch fire, slipping your legs around him to pull him closer, sending you over the edge. Trying to roll your head back but unable to find anything to rest it on, let Simon see your eyes roll to the back of your head. You loved the feeling of being unable to move at his mercy and will. Thankfully, he was always into pleasing your needs quickly.

His chest lightly thundering with a chuckle watching you come undone.

His rhythm becomes harder, desperate for his own release. Slamming into you faster, you could feel his hot seed fill you making you whimper as your pussy clamped around him greedily taking it all.

"Good girl," he grunted, slowing down. Both of your shallow breaths filled the small space. Simon leaned down and kissed you as he pulled out. Quickly, you pushed your thighs together while he untied you from the rod. Once free, you pushed your panties back over to catch his cum before it dripped down your thighs and onto your black skirt.

"Like that?" He asked, still wearing his devil grin. Clearly, he was proud of the act.

"Very much so," you said helping him tie his tye.

"Hello??" Peggy said, while looking for you both.

It made you cringe a smile, and laugh amongst each other.

Simon tried to deflect the dirty deed you had just done together. Pushing the door open quietly, stating, "This is a perfect place to use, keep my tyes in." A statement that was a double-edge sword. It is a statement that not only you and Simon understood, but clearly, so did Peggy. Her jaw was slack mouth agape, making you both divert your eyes from her.

"It's perfect. We'll take it." Simon's tone almost boastful as he thought about the other places he would rail you in...or on.

Simon Riley Masterlist

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 18th - Thigh Riding (Cardinal Copia x Female!Reader)

Tags: Thigh Riding, Naked Female/Clothed Male, Sex Therapy, Praise, Innocence Kink, Squirting, 3rd Person POV

It was in the chambers of his eminence, Cardinal Copia Emeritus, that she would find solace on most nights. He was trustworthy, a friend to everyone, the easiest to come to for comfort in uncertain times. He knew well how to quell her nerves.

It started with just confessional, but only the afternoons where he would be on duty. He always knew just what to say. But when that wasn't enough, too little time in the day, she asked to meet him in his private domicile, for more personal, in depth chats. He obliged, of course, how could he refuse? Anything for this sweet, young Sister, whom he's grown ever so close to.

It was innocent, just chatting. Talks of anxieties, work stress, your average, day to day worries. The more he prodded for her to open up, the more she did. The talks progressed into that of her love and sex life, or rather, her lack thereof. She hadn't laid with another warm body in quite some time now. Her insecurities and low self-image depleted her sex drive, and her lack of confidence made it so she was mortified of the idea of anyone seeing her nude. Now, the Cardinal couldn't have one of his devoted followers feeling like that, he had a reputation to uphold!

Mentions of a so-called 'sex therapy' started to be brought up into conversation. When she innocently asked how much it was for a session he laughed and assured her it's not like regular therapy, in fact, it wouldn't cost her a dime. The concept is to pick a person whom you already know and trust more than anyone else to do this kind of thing with.

With both parties consent, you would let the other person (AKA your 'therapist') slowly get you comfortable with the idea of sex by building up intimate acts, little by little. Like just being naked around one another, for starters. That could build up to sensual massages, dirty talking, groping more explicit areas of the body, fingering, and ultimately it would lead up to sex. Boundaries and a safe word are set in place just in case, but things should rarely if ever go too far too quickly. When she expressed interest, who do you think she asked to assist her? Exactly who the Cardinal had hoped.

It went on for weeks, building slowly as he had promised. Their sessions were successful every time, Copia being a very attentive and gentle partner. It made her feel safe, valued, in tune with her own desires for the first time in many months. In todays session, they tried something different, but it was her favorite one by far. The pleasures of grinding.

She was naked, while he remained fully clothed, clad in his favorite black suit. The reasoning was to get her to be more comfortable with vulnerability, not being so nervous to be the first one unclothed. That, and he promised her grinding her clit against the fabric of his pants would feel unreal. He also wanted his work clothes to be dampened and tainted with the stench of her arousal for the rest of the day, but that was an unspoken, more selfish reason.

Her drags along his clothed thigh were meager, unsure of herself. It was clear she didn't know quite what she was doing. And while her naivety was as charming as ever, he saw by the look in her eyes she wasn't enjoying this. "Do you need your Cardinal to teach you, topolina? Do you need me to take the reigns for a little bit?" He cooed, in a way that somehow didn't sound condescending in the slightest. Copia had a way with his tone that made his words unimportant. She agreed, full faith in her beloved Cardinal.

He shifts his leg at a certain angle and flexes his thigh to make the experience more pleasurable. Leather bound hands resting at her hips, he begins to rock her slowly, her clit catching against the roughness of his jeans. Her slick gathers and leaves a wet trail across his pant leg where moved her. Exactly what he wanted to see. The way he did it was indeed a way better feeling, her eyes fluttering shut gently, soft little sighs and whimpers escaping her lips.

"There you go," He encouraged. "Let me make you feel good." Everything admittedly felt better when the Cardinal was in control. His voice was velvety and intoxicating, his hands were like magic, his movements were inhumanly perfect. He was unmatched to any other man in regards of sexual prowess, any other man she'd ever been with anyway.

The more she rocked, the wetter she got, the dark patch on his jeans just getting bigger and bigger. Soon enough she was able to guide herself, getting a firm grip on his shoulders and grinding on her own subconsciously. His hands slowly lifted from her sides, like taking off training wheels, putting them to the side. Her humping grows more bold, putting more force into really putting the pressure on her clit. Her moans grew louder too, without her even realizing, too lost in the feeling. She mewled Copias title, still has not once gained the confidence to call him by his first name, despite the professionalism being quite unnessacary. One day she will, and it will be while she's cumming around his cock.

"Cardinal, Cardinal..." She fawned breathlessly. Her riding becoming more insistent, voice sounding like what could almost be mistaken for a tone of distress. She was close, barely hanging on to the edge. Still, something was stopping her from teetering off. She needed some encouragement, poor little thing. And as always, whatever she needed, the Cardinal could provide.

"Doing so well, sweet girl. It feels nice, doesn't it?" He purrs. Her thighs shake. "I know. You've been doing everything right, you just gotta do one more thing for me. Just let go, topolina. Allow yourself to cum. Coat your Cardinal in your sweet nectar. Won't you do that for me?" The coil snaps, her little death arriving as quickly as it approached, flooding all her senses and making a mess of his fine clothes.

He holds her close, soothing her as she shakes and shivers, the intensity from the release she's denied herself for months was debilitating. She definitely needed some extra long time to recover from this one, unable to stand since her legs were now Jello, and extra aftercare as well. And he was more than willing to provide such, snacks, kisses, and back rubs galore. Whatever his little mouse needs. But as much as he loves to provide, he can wait till she leaves, so he can at last deal with this damned infuriatingly painful tent throbbing in his pants.

-

[moonstruckme]

Hey! I absolutely adore your work :D If you wouldn't mind, could you maybe do poly!Marauders x GN!Reader who is having/had a panic attack? So they're just really exhausted and anxious, but our boys are taking care of them? If not, don't worry haha

Thanks lovely <33

cw: panic attack aftermath, anxiety

poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 752 words

You’re slick with sweat, and yet you can’t stop shivering. James’ hand is steadfast on your back,  fingers spread wide as he drags it up and down your spine. Somehow he knows to apply a good amount of pressure, grounding you here on your living room floor. 

“I’m okay,” you say, to yourself or them, you’re not entirely sure. You take a big, shuddering breath, your lungs aching like an overworked muscle as they expand. “Sorry about that. I’m okay now.” 

“You don’t have to be.” Sirius matches your quiet tone, sitting with his legs crossed under him on the floor in front of you. “Take your time, baby.” 

Remus stands from behind you on the couch, disappearing into the kitchen and returning a minute later with a glass of water. He sets it down in front of you.

“Only drink it if you want,” he says. 

You nod, and you do want, sipping at the cold water and relishing the feel of it in your sore throat. You let out a breath when you finish, setting the glass atop the coffee table and leaning sideways until your head hits James’ shoulder. 

Your boyfriends are being quieter than you would’ve expected. Certainly quieter than they had been when the attack came on, Sirius and James launching questions at you rapid-fire and scrambling to find out how they could help before Remus had shushed them harshly and given you the environment you needed to calm yourself down. You’re sure they’re still brimming with questions now, but they’re patient enough to put their curiosity on hold, just sitting with you while you will the tension in your muscles to ease and your heart to beat at a normal pace. 

“Tired, sweetheart?” James murmurs, hand following the curve of your spine from your tailbone to where your neck meets his shoulder. 

“Yeah.” It comes out a sigh. 

Remus hums. “Your body just went through a lot,” he explains, more for James and Sirius than for you, you think. “Do you want to lie down, love?”

You nod, and Remus reaches down to steady you at the elbows, helping you up. You’d like to think he’s being excessive in his cosseting, but your trembling worsens as you stand. Your legs feel made of rubber underneath you, and you waste no time sitting down again on the couch. 

Remus gets up to make room for you, and you spread out, trying to convey to your body that the danger has passed. You cover your eyes with your hand, pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to quell the headache you feel coming on.

There’s a gentle whoosh of air, and then a soft, heavy blanket settles over you. You open your eyes to find James tucking it around your feet, and you send him a grateful smile. 

“Sorry about that,” you say again, though you know they don’t want to hear it. You just aren’t sure what else to say. “Thanks for helping me through it.” 

“Anytime, angel.” James gives your feet a little squeeze through the blanket. If you weren’t so exhausted you’d probably be a lot more embarrassed about that. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, you know. That seemed…really scary.” 

You nod, because you don’t know what else to do. It was. It is. 

“Is there anything else we can do to help?” Sirius asks, and you’re both touched and heartbroken by the worry in his voice. 

“Thanks.” You give him your most reassuring smile. It’s a small, feeble thing, but hopefully enough to comfort him a little. “Actually, do you think you could wake me up in a little while? I just…it’s sometimes hard for me to sleep the first night after a panic attack. I don’t want to make it worse by napping all day.”

Sirius flashes a smile. It’s maybe half its usual wattage, but it’s something. “Sounds good, sweet thing.” 

You look between your boyfriends, feeling awkward and a little bit dramatic for the past hour’s events. You can’t decide whether to apologize or thank them again, but Remus seems to see the words warring on the tip of your tongue. He reaches over to brush some hair from your face, his knuckle stroking gently down your cheek. 

“We can talk about it after you wake up if you want to, love,” he says. “Just get some rest for now, yeah?”

You nod, snuggling into the blanket and closing your eyes. 

“We’ll be here when you wake up.” 

[void-wolfie]

How'd You Do That?

summary: you have a panic attack right before your first premiere. [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

tw: panic attack, my terrible writing (let me know if I need to add anything)

words: 1.5k

a/n: this is one of the rare times where I can say it took me so long to get to a request because I had too many ideas. I was watching my favorite show the other day and they use this idea and I couldn't stop thinking of a Jenna x R scene with it (bonus points if you know what show it's based off of)

*disclaimer; please don't use this tactic to stop a panic attack, it could actually make things worse. I only wrote it like this because it's fiction and cute.

"You did it, kid,"

Those were the first words out of your dad's mouth when he called you.

You did it.

The words bounced around in your head, filling you with excitement and dread. There was a pit in your stomach, and you had the urge to puke, you weren't sure if that was a good thing or not.

You did it.

That was a year ago, news had just gotten out that you'd be in a new summer film, set to co-star with none other than Miss Jenna Ortega herself. At the time, you were a no-name actor. You'd been in a few small things here and there, a few supporting roles. But you were nothing compared to the young sensation herself.

You'd gotten a rocky start; you were an anxious mess at the start of filming. But who wouldn't be when they were sitting so close to their celebrity crush.

Somewhere along the way, the anxiety faded. She wasn't The Jenna Ortega anymore; she was just Jenna. She wasn't the actress you'd been looking up to since the start of your career, but a pretty girl with a million freckles and a love of dad jokes. She became your best friend. The girl you'd call at one am to confess all your worries to, the girl who'd call you every day and made sure you ate because sometimes you'd forget, the girl who didn't know a lick of Spanish yet could still pull off the most amazing accent, and the girl you would text first thing every morning.

You sat in the car, wringing your hands nervously.

You were supposed to get out of the car five minutes ago, but you couldn't. Your legs felt like Jello and your vision was spinning just a bit.

All that filming and it was finally the moment of truth. The day of the premiere. Would people like you? Would they like the movie? What if your acting was terrible? You'd never been to a premiere like this before, what if you embarrassed yourself? Or-

You were freaking out. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, erratically beating in your chest. It felt like someone had knocked the air out of you, squeezing your lungs and making it impossible to breathe. And your hands; they were clammy and cold, yet somehow also hot, and they wouldn't stop shaking.

Jenna was sitting next to you in the car, tinted windows hiding the two of you from the sea of flashing cameras outside. She had been through her fair share of premieres. She knew what to expect, she knew how to act and what to do. You on the other hand, you'd never been to one. She'd been watching you with worried eyes all day, watching as your anxiety built as the day went on.

"Hey, it's going to be alright," She grabbed your hands, interlocking your fingers with hers. She'd hoped the physical contact might help calm you, but it didn't seem to ease your nerves.

Your eyes flitted down to your hands interlaced with Jenna's, her black nail polish contrasting against her tan skin.

Being close to Jenna always made you feel better, yet it didn't seem to be helping this time.

Your anxiety was at an all-time high, crippling you from the inside out. Your throat squeezed a little tighter as if you weren't struggling to breathe enough already.

"I'll be right there with you the whole time, ok?" She squeezed your hands reassuringly, but it didn't do anything to quell the raging storm inside.

Your eyes traveled back to the window. The flashing lights, the reporters circling like ravenous vultures, the way the other actors were already out there making everything look so easy while you were in the midst of a breakdown... It was too much...

Your breathing got a little more ragged, shallow uneven breaths wracking your chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on just trying to calm down.

Jenna's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, watching the way your chest heaved and hands squeezed hers tighter. It only took her a few seconds to figure out what was happening, she wasn't any stranger to panic attacks.

"Breathe with me. In and out," She exaggerated her breathing, trying to encourage you to slow your own, "In and out,"

But you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried. The feeling of not being in control of something as simple as breathing made you panic even more.

"I- I can't-"

"Hey, look at me," you felt her finger under your chin, tilting your face to look at her. But you made sure to keep your eyes shut. You didn't want to look into those big brown eyes and show her just how vulnerable you were, you'd rather suffocate.

"y/n, please," her voice cracked ever so slightly, composure dropping for just a split second. She was worried about you. Worried about how you were spiraling out of control, and you wouldn't let her help.

Her mind was blank, not sure what to do. She had one idea left, though she wasn't sure if it'd help or make things entirely worse, "I have an idea, do you trust me?"

If this backfired... Well, she didn't want to think about that.

You nodded, still attempting to calm down. Your nerves felt like they were on fire as you struggled to breathe, your heartbeat still thumping loudly in your ears.

A second passed. Then two. You were about to open your eyes to see what bright idea Jenna had when a pair of lips smashed against yours.

The whole world stopped. All you could focus on was the pair of soft lips pressed against yours and the warm hand cupping your cheek.

Wow.

She pulled away and the world stood still.

Everything felt quiet. That nagging voice in the back of your skull wasn't there. The sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears had dimmed. Even the sound of the crowds outside seemed much smaller.

Jenna didn't think her idea would work. But you already seemed a bit better. Your hands had stopped shaking so violently and your breathing had mostly returned to normal.

"y/n?" Now Jenna was the one panicking. What if she just ruined your friendship? She couldn't lose you...

Your mind was strangely quiet for once. And you were only aware of two things. Firstly, wow. Secondly, do it again.

"y/n?" Jenna's voice finally pulled you from whatever trance you were in.

"Would it be wrong, to ask you to do that again?" Your eyes were still closed. Part of you was scared to open them again. What if you opened them and she wasn't there? What if it was all just a dream?

Jenna wasn't sure how to answer that. Would it be wrong? The two of you were coworkers after all. But she didn't really care.

It took her a second to think about what you were asking, and even less than that to throw the question out the window and kiss you again.

It was soft, simple, and sweet. It was everything you could ever ask for from a second kiss.

The minute Jenna pulled away all you could think of was the missing warmth. The way it felt like finding your other half just to be ripped apart.

Silence filled the air, neither of you sure who would speak first.

"How'd you do that?" You finally relaxed, opening your eyes to find her big brown ones looking back, full of concern and adoration.

"Do what?"

"You stopped my panic attack,"

"I read somewhere that getting someone to hold their breath can stop a panic attack, when I kissed you, you held your breath," you couldn't help but notice the small blush spread across her cheeks.

"Did you mean it? Like, did you want to kiss me?"

"Would it be wrong of me to say I did?"

Your eyes lit up. She wanted to kiss you? Does that mean she likes you?

Shouting and cheering from outside caught the attention of you and Jenna, heads darting over to the window to watch the cheering crowds outside; all of them oblivious to what just happened between you and your co-star.

"We have to go, don't we?" You were a bit disappointed. You didn't want to leave the safety of the car, you wanted to talk this out with Jenna.

"Unfortunately," Jenna noticed the pout that took over your features, the way you gripped her hand a bit tighter for comfort, "But I'll be right there the whole time, ok? And we can even leave early if you want."

You nodded, still not exactly happy to be going, but going with Jenna was better than going solo.

Jenna pushed open the car door. Instantly flashing lights and people calling yours and Jenna's names filled the air. You could feel the anxiety bubbling up again. But just as quickly as it started, it went away. Jenna's hand gave yours a little squeeze, reminding you she was right there.

[iwritefandomimagines]

NEW YEAR’S KISS — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

description: last time you saw jamie tartt, he’d laughed off your confession of feelings. now it’s new year’s eve, you’re at a richmond party, and he looks so fucking good in a suit.

warnings: swearing, bit of angst, bit of fluff, alcohol consumption, light sex references but no smut

author’s note: eeeek happy new year’s eve and happy new year for tomorrow all !!! sending lots of love n good vibes <3

———

You couldn’t even believe it yourself that you had agreed to attend the New Year’s Eve party that Dani had decided to host.

Sure, you loved any opportunity to hang out with the men you’d grown close to in your time working with the club, but given the way things went the last time you saw a certain Mr Jamie Tartt… You were regretting your agreement to come immensely.

Even worse, the last time you’d seen him was also at a squad event where one too many shots had been to blame for your actions, and you feared this would be repeated.

You’d stupidly let your guard down when he was flirting with you nonchalantly again, and confessed that you had feelings for him.

He’d laughed it off — assuming that alcohol and clouded your judgement instead of just instilling you with the boldness you needed to be honest.

Since then, you’d avoided him like the plague and turned down all of Keeley’s invitations to places you knew he’d be.

Given that you were only working with the club on a temporary basis anyway, avoiding him had been relatively easy.

But now here you were, because you had no other plans anyway and Keeley insisted that you couldn’t avoid Richmond forever — even if she didn’t know the real reason for it and believed you’d just been busy.

“Oh my God Y/N, you look well fit!” Keeley screamed when she saw you, eyes flitting over your frame before she yanked you into a tight hug, “I’ve missed you, babe!”

“I’ve missed you too,” you hummed, trying to quell the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as you felt all eyes on you, “Sorry I’ve not been around. Lots going on.”

“Too busy for us now, yeah?” Jamie sidled up to your side, a smirk on his face that you couldn’t quite tell the root cause of. Was he just pissing about or was he trying to be snide?

When you looked over at him, you felt your heart race even faster at the sight of him in a gorgeous, well-fitted, and frankly uncharacteristically smart goddamn suit.

Somehow, it made him look even more incredible than usual and only made the feelings you’d fought to deny since you last saw him become impossible to ignore.

You bit your lip, looking down for a minute and not catching the way his eyes scanned over you hungrily.

Your dress was certainly doing wonders for your figure, and he’d have been an idiot not to appreciate it, “Kiddin’, love. You look stunning. We’ve missed ya.”

You nodded for a moment, taken aback by his compliment even though they’d never been rare when you were around him more often, “Uh— thanks, Jamie. You still scrub up well, too. I’ve missed you all.”

Jamie’s smile softened now, reaching out his arm to link it with yours, “Wanna go get a drink, milady?l

You caught Keeley widening her eyes at him with a grin, as if encouraging him.

Oh fuck — did she know what had happened? Were they all laughing behind your back?

“I, uh, yeah sure,” you obliged, almost melting back into being comfortable with him like you used to, “Guess it is nearly midnight, I should probably catch up.”

And catch up you did — champagne glass after champagne glass being knocked back, while you tried your hardest to pretend that Jamie’s hand lingering on the base of your back every once in a while wasn’t driving you crazy.

It also didn’t help that there was a woman hanging around who you didn’t know — a woman who seemed very fond of Jamie, and spent much of her evening gracing him with lingering touches of her own.

He never complained, just smiled and continued about his evening like it was only natural that he was getting female attention.

Well, you supposed, it was.

It was somewhat nice to feel back to normal, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone else was in the loop about something you weren’t.

It was five minutes to midnight now, and you decided that it was best you excused yourself for the countdown and got a little fresh air.

You were overwhelmed by suddenly being back around the Richmond squad — one man in particular — and weren’t sure you could stomach seeing Jamie’s inevitable new year’s kiss with a girl whose name you’d not even bothered to ask.

“What’re ya doing out here, love?”

God, try as you might, you would never get over the sound of him calling you love.

He was stood just behind you, the warmth of his breath fanning over your neck in the winter chill, “‘S nearly midnight.”

“I know,” was all you could muster up as you turned to face him, eyes avoiding meeting his as you took your bottom lip between your teeth.

His eyebrows furrowed as he watched how shy you were, and his hands left his pockets to tilt your chin up to look at him.

“All that time you spent away from us was ‘cos of me, wasn’t it?” his voice was quiet, almost inaudible, but it made your heart race all the same.

You gulped, “I was embarrassed. Didn’t want to see you again and be ridiculed.”

“Ridiculed? Y/N, I wasn’t gonna ridicule ya,” he shook his head, “I shut you down ‘cos I’m trying to be better. Been working on meself and I didn’t want you to do anything you’d regret with me.”

You’d met this Jamie before — this sincere, gentle, kind Jamie who was reserved only for those he held dearest. But it still startled you to hear him tell you all of this.

“I just—,”

“I wanted to kiss you, love, honest,” when did he get so close all of a sudden? “Just didn’t want you to hate me in the morning, or take back what you’d said or nothing.”

You swallowed thickly, “Jamie, I told you I liked you. I didn’t just throw myself at you and say I wanted to fuck you, or-or— anything like that. I was putting my heart out there and you just—you just laughed it off.”

“You were drunk, babe,” he sighed, “I didn’t know if you’d mean it all in the mornin’, that’s all.”

“Well, I did. Although more regretfully, after that.”

His eyes were sad now, almost glassy, as he watched you carefully to see what you’d do or say next.

You stepped back, your own eyes brimming with tears as your back met the fence of Dani’s balcony.

“I never meant to hurt ya, Y/N,” Jamie whispered, once again stepping closer, “I like you too, I just left you alone ‘cos I had some shit to get sorted before I could be good enough for you. ‘Nd I’ve been really trying.”

You finally gave in to the desire to make eye contact again, and felt your whole body crumble at the sound of his words, “You were always good enough, Jamie. I just— I thought I just wasn’t enough for you.”

He scoffed, his hand returning to your chin and his fingers caressing your cheekbones, “You’re too good for me, Y/N. Too good even for Jamie fucking Tartt.”

You let out a giggle at that, followed by a small sob, “What’re you saying here, Jamie?”

He looked down at his watch, “What I’m sayin’ is, it’s 15 seconds to midnight and I’d like to be your new year’s kiss. And, like, not to get ahead of meself… But I’d like to keep kissing you after that. Like, a lot.”

You nodded profusely, wiping away your few stray tears as you heard your friends calling out the final countdown inside, “3, 2, 1!”

He pulled you in close by your face, lips meeting yours with a furious passion as your arms enveloped the back of his neck.

It was everything you could have ever wanted… Even if you did feel fucking ridiculous for never just talking to him about it sooner.

“Happy new year, love,” Jamie smiled into the kiss.

You matched his smile, pulling back for a moment, “Happy new year, Tartt.”

You were silent for a moment as you just gazed at each other longingly, before a realisation hit you, “What about that girl in there, though? She was all over you.”

“Babe, I’m Jamie Tartt,” he shrugged, smiling smugly, “Just ‘cos the girls love me, doesn’t mean me mind hasn’t been focused on one girl in particular, even if she didn’t want to see me.”

“Oi, I wanted to see you, I was just scared to,” you stuck your tongue out as he grinned, “I’m so glad I came tonight.”

“Me fuckin’ too,” he licked his lips, “And in that dress… God, if you could see inside me head right now.”

“Down, boy,” you joked, fully conscious of the fluttering in your own stomach now, “If you’re good, you can take it off me later, yeah?”

Your lips met again hungrily now, your body pressed against the fence as you heard a round of whooping and clapping from your friends who’d found their way to the balcony now.

“A happy fucking new year indeed,” Roy showed the slightest hint of a smile as you and Jamie pulled apart again, blushing crimson, and interlocked your hands.

“Fucking finally.”

———

ok so i may have rushed to get this finish so i could post on nye — sorry if the ending is shit but i hope you enjoyed! pleaaase feel free to request more jamie if you’d like, obsessed again so i’d love that. meanwhile, here’s my masterlist!

[kitakashi]

Cursed

Kuroo Tetsurō x Reader

Soulmate AU

born from conversations with @shoulmate 💚 (not edited or beta read)

Warm sand tickled the bottom of your feet. Digging your toes deeper into the beach you watched your friends play volleyball from your spot on a towel.

University finals were over. As soon as the last exam finished you packed your bags to join your friends for a much needed vacation.

You sat beside Kozume under a large umbrella enjoying the salt air and the crash of the waves. And of course the view of swim trunk, baseball caps, and sunglasses.

Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi were shirtless and sweaty only a few yards away. Alongside other friends the bunch of you had made at Tokyo University. But those three in particular were the sweetest eye candy.

Your fingers slipped under the thick wristband you wore to cover your soulmark. Rubbing the name if your soulmate unconsciously, until Kozume cleared his throat giving you a look. Adjusting your sunglasses on your face you pretended not to notice his stare.

Your friends knew you were one of the few with a soulmate, but you had never shared with them who is was. Kozume, however, was too observant and you suspected he knew. Gratefully he never said anything or pushed you about it.

It happened right before you started high school. You were with your parents filling out paperwork after moving to a new area. Scrolling endlessly on your phone, bored out of your mind, when the skin on your wrist exploded in pain as if on fire. Gasping you cuddled your arm to your chest, tears pricking your eyes.

Curious faces turned towards you. Some confused, others shocked at the outburst. It wasn’t until your parents pried your arm from your body did the realization finally set in. You had gotten a soulmark.

Having a soulmark wasn’t common. Most people knew someone in their extended family or group of friends who had one. They appeared randomly during your mid to late teens if you got one. And not everyone saw it as a blessing.

The mark was a name. The name of your soulmate. But your soulmate would not have a mark. Just having the mark didn’t mean they were close by or did it mean you’d ever meet them.

This caused a lot of problems in relationships. Either you held out for a soulmate who never came or one would randomly pop into your life after you had already settled down with someone else.

But your teenage heart had high hopes that couldn’t be dashed by your parents’ realistic and logical words. It wasn’t that they weren’t happy for you. They just didn’t want their precious child’s heart crushed by this Kuroo Tetsurō whom they didn’t know.

You met Kuroo right after starting high school. He was a year above you. And he was perfect. Handsome, funny, athletic, intelligent, talented, and kind.

Well, you didn’t actually meet him. You heard the name Kuroo Tetsurō and your wrist throbbed alongside your heart in excitement. You rushed to tell him who you were.

That’s when you realized it was no blessing but a curse upon your wrist.

Kuroo was a member of the volleyball team. A second year pillar of the team. Relied upon by his seniors and juniors. His athletic prowess alone was intimidating. Yet he was also studious, beloved by the teachers. He was surrounded his teammates and by fans. Pretty girls, handsome boys.

You tried to worm your way through the crowd to talk to him but the glares you got stopped you in your tracks.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice snapped.

An elbow dug into your ribs, “we were here first.”

Wincing you took a step back from the throng of people. Clutching your arm, you rubbed your wrist. An action you always seemed to do to quell your anxiety. You looked for another way through the crowd. It wasn’t as though you had to tell him today but you wanted to be with your soulmate as soon as possible, believing in a happily ever after.

You could see his head above the others. If only you could get Kuroo’s attention somehow. Trying again to squeeze through the sea of people it wasn’t until someone grabbed your arm did you stop.

The girl had wrenched your arm back trying to see your wrist. “Oh shit you have a soulmark!” You panicked trying to pull yourself free. “Lemme see who it is! Is it one of the guys on the team?”

Ripping your arm back before she could see the name, you gave her a nasty glare. But the damage had been done. Curious faces heard her exclamation and turned towards you.

Another girl lurched towards you and you took a step back. “A soulmark? How neat!”

“Seriously?” Her friend looked suspicious, “she’s gotta be one of maybe 5 people at this school.”

“Who is it?” Someone curious spoke you couldn’t see, “whose name is her mark?”

Nearby a girl scrunched up her nose in disbelief, “Really. Idoubt it. Probably wrote it with sharpie.” She rolled her eyes and the people around her laughed.

“How pathetic,” another scathing voice, “who would want to be tied down to her?”

You couldn’t even see the people laughing at you anymore. Nails biting into the skin of your wrist, you hugged the name Kuroo Tetsurō to your chest. If your legs didn’t give out, your lungs would. You couldn’t breathe.

“I feel sorry for her soulmate.”

“Make her wash her hands and prove it’s real.”

Their words cut deep. Self deprecating thoughts filled your mind. You knew they were just petty but you couldn’t help the tears from forming. Suddenly you didn’t want to meet your soulmate. A burst of strength let you rush off before they could see you cry. Later you thought of ways to hide your mark.

Somehow you had made it through high school without anyone finding out the name on your wrist. A thick wrist band covered the name and you never took it off unless to shower.

A feat especially hard after befriending Kozume Kenma. You shared class with him all three years. After finding out the two of you enjoyed the same video games, a friendship grew and solidified. Unfortunately, that also meant that Kuroo was part of your friends group. Your soulmark wasn’t done cursing you.

Even without the soulmark you liked Kuroo. You couldn’t meet his sharp feline gaze when he seldom spoke to you. Just being around him made you rub the skin beneath the band on your wrist uncontrollably. Your face felt like a furnace anytime he caught you staring, and you stared a lot. And smiled. You didn’t even realize you would just have this dopey grin on your face. Not until Kozume pointed it out. Another reason why you think he knows.

And because of your cowardice, you had to watch Kuroo date other people. You had no one to blame but yourself. But every time you thought to end your misery by spilling your secret, you imagined him asking why it took you so long. Or that he only saw you as a friend.

The feeling of a hand on your arm snapped you from your inner mind. Kozume had grabbed your wrist to prevent you from injuring yourself. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d rubbed the soulmark raw. He called your name and you met his worried golden eyes.

“Sorry,” you tried to laugh it off, “I was spacing out.” Kozume frowned. He opened his mouth but you stood cutting him off. “I think I’m going to wade in a bit. Try and cool off some.”

Dusting off a bit of sand you made your way to the waves without waiting for a response. The water was cool as it gently lapped at your legs. A shiver went down your spine at the temperature difference between the ocean and the hot sun.

A figure sliding beside you made you jump, slipping on the wet sand. Grabbing the person who startled you to avoid plummeting into the ocean, you weren’t expecting intense yellow eyes to stare down at you.

“I scare you that bad?” Kuroo cackled. “I did call your name you know.”

He helped you stabilize yourself and you regretfully released his bicep. The raven stretched, joints cracking. You did your best to not completely ogle him from behind your shades.

“What are you doing over here? I thought you were playing volleyball?”

“Drink break,” broad shoulders shrugged, “gotta stay hydrated.” Kuroo had the gall to wink at you.

You nodded, staying silent. Gazing at the open ocean, unsuccessfully trying to quell your beating heart. Cold water splashed your sides. You shot Kuroo’s smirking face a glare.

“What’s on your mind?” He splashed you again. “You’re even more quiet than usual.”

“Quit that,” you scowled.

He wiggled a finger in your face, “now that’s not very nice. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“You have plenty of friends to bother.”

“True,” he acknowledged with an obnoxious grin, “but I’d rather bother you.”

You rolled your eyes, splashing him back. Glancing back at your friends you saw Bokuto animatedly telling a story keeping his audience enraptured. Snorting you shook your head, guess Kuroo really was free right now.

“Hey,” squinting you looked back to Kuroo who was pointing to your wrist, “aren’t you worried about the salt water eating through that?”

Tugging at the wrist band you shrugged, “I guess. But it’s not like I can’t get another one.”

“Why not take it off? We are on vacation after all. And who knows you might even meet them here.” Glad Kuroo wasn’t looking at you, you couldn’t help but squeeze your wrist. He was gazing out at the ocean but continued, “if I had a soulmate I know I’d be trying everything to meet them.”

“You don’t seem to need help in that department. You’ve always got girls around you.”

Kuroo frowned looking down at you. “And if you haven’t noticed, not once has any date worked out.”

Snapping the soggy wrist band against the soulmark you couldn’t help asking, “what if…” You floundered uncomfortable under the raven’s intense gaze. “What if, when you met them, you didn’t think it would work?”

Dark eyebrows skyrocketed over his sunglasses, “you’ve already met them? Did you tell them?”

You flinched from his incredulous tone, avoiding meeting his eyes. Shifting your weight you rubbed harder at the name on your wrist.

“Hey,” Kuroo softly called your name, “talk to me.” Why did he look so sad? Not knowing what to say, how to explain, you didn’t speak. He pushes his shades to the top of his head to look at you better despite the bright sunlight. His voice was gentle, “why do you think it wouldn’t work?”

Salt stung at your wrist as the flesh peeled from the harsh friction. You knew you were standing in the surf but it felt like you were being dragged down to the ocean depths.

Kuroo’s body was completely facing you now. You had his full attention. No calling of his name by Bokuto could distract him from you. His rough fingers caressed your arms, trying to keep you from a panic attack. Tears pricked at your eyes.

“I’m not,” you choked out, stopping to clear your throat, “I don’t think… I’m just, just not. And he, he’s… amazing.”

Fingers slid up your arms to grab your face. Both of Kuroo’s large hands cupped your jaw as he looked at you sternly. “Stop that right now,” he growled, “anyone would be lucky to have you as their soulmate. If you don’t stop with this bullshit I’ll start listing reasons at the top of my lungs.” You gaped at him. “I’ll sing them too if it’ll stop you from crying. Poorly I might add.” Using his thumbs to wipe your tears running from under your dark sunglasses, he kept speaking. His voice softer now, “I mean it.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him. He was leaning so close that your noses almost touched. Yellow eyes deeper and brighter than the sun baring down overhead. A mixture of sweat and ocean spray glistened on his skin. Already messed raven hair held down by his sunglasses and whipped every direction by the cool breeze.

“What if it was you,” not even sure he could hear you, you whispered, “what if my soulmate was you? Would you still want a soulmate then?”

Kuroo took a shaky breathe, licking his lips. Using his thumbs, he slowly pushes your shades to the top of your head. “If it were me,” fingers gently traced your jawline, “I’d want to know why you didn’t tell me. If it were me, I’d kiss you until we were both breathless. If it were me, I’d make sure we were never apart for the rest of our lives. Because if it were me who had such an amazing soulmate, there’s nothing less I could do than give you everything.” Hot breath danced across your lips. His golden gaze searching, with a prayer held inside. Reverently, he whispered your name. “Show me, so I can finally kiss you.”

Biting your lip, you fiddled with the soaked wristband hiding your soulmark. Hands shaking you held your wrist up to him. A moment passed before he realized, you wanted him to remove it. One hand moved along your arm while the other rested against your neck. Silently searching your eyes for permission, he removed the offending cover.

There on your wrist, was his name. Kuroo Tetsurō.

Not a moment later was his mouth on yours. And the soulmark curse trapping your heart was finally broken.

[oldwritingm]

Hi could you do a Stan , Kyle ,Kenny , Craig, and Tweek x reader (separate) who has POTS and H-EDS , I just can’t find any representation in any fics, thank you and I hope you have a wonderful day

Of course!! I'm always more than happy to give y'all some representation! (and as always please let me know if I've written anything incorrectly,, I'm always trying to learn more! plus I never want to hurt you guys qwq)

South Park - Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Craig, and Tweek With a Reader Who Has POTS and H-EDS

Tweek

This poor soul spends every waking minute worrying about you

No matter how many times you try to tell him that you can handle yourself, he's never convinced

Standing up? He's at your side in a millisecond, even if he was across the room before

"Are you dizzy? Are you okay?"

His hands are under your armpits, ready to stabilize you, before you can even respond

And he's so so gentle with you, and even scolds you for not being gentle with yourself

"Hey hey hey! Take it easy!!"

When he first found out about your conditions, he pulled several all-nighters in a row researching everything about them

He has a little notebook filled with notes on the disorders

Sometimes he'll whip out a fact that even you didn't even know

He made a point to memorize everything, mainly because he was worried that if he forgot something you'd somehow die because of it :(

Honestly he's almost as affected by it as you are; he makes himself sick with worry

Over time he might get better, but in any case you can always comfort him by just taking it easy

And cuddling him while you do :)

Craig

When you first told him about your conditions, he was just like "what."

You explained it to him, of course, but he didn't bother to do any research beyond that

He figures that you know yourself and you can take care of yourself

But at the same time he's conscious about the things you can struggle with (only because you told him)

Like, when you stand up, he keeps his eye on you for a while

Or when you hit something on accident, even lightly, he asks if you're okay

And he checks the spot later for bruising/swelling/etc

"Lemme look at that spot on your leg that hit the table earlier."

He's not prone to worrying too much, but when he does worry he asks for your thoughts too

Especially if he wants to take you to the hospital

Because ultimately he trusts you to know yourself, and he's not going to go against your wishes

Unless you're like, clearly in need of emergency services

Then he's calling the ambulance no matter what you say

But overall he's pretty normal about it, he'll only make a big deal when he's worried

Stan

He definitely asks you a lot of questions about your conditions

He's not only curious, he wants to know how to help you

And even when he's well educated, he'll keep asking questions

"How are you feeling today? Is it worse or better than usual?"

They are not always... intelligent questions

But he's just trying to figure out how he can help you in the moment

Because that's always his goal; if you need his help, he wants to be there

But he'll back off (reluctantly) if you tell him to

He'll ask "are you sure" at least three times first though 💀

He's definitely a worrier, and helping you quells his anxiety just a bit

Either way he's keeping an eye on you

And he's buying you cute compression socks (if you use them)

He'll be over the moon if you actually wear them, not only because he likes knowing you're just a bit more comfortable + safe, but because he feels like he's helping :)

Kyle

He already knew what your conditions were when you told him (vaguely, at least)

But he decided to research them more in-depth when he realized that someone he cared about had them

His first search was: "how to help a loved one with POTS/H-EDS"

(he totally blushed while typing in "loved one")

But after that he dove deep into the more technical side,, like medical journals and stuff

He probably subscribes to a journal that specifically focuses on your conditions,, just so he can keep up-to-date on any new information

He does all this without telling you though, of course

He'll admit it if you somehow manage to find out about this, but he's going to try hard to make sure you don't find out

He doesn't want you thinking he's obsessed or whatever

But he low-key is

Even if you don't find out, you'll be seriously suspicious

Because he'll just whip out the most hyper-specific fact or bring up a new study

"You know they did a study on how [x] affects [y symptom], and they found that [x] can actually help. Maybe you can try it, or something."

He feels good when his knowledge actually helps you, though he also tries not to be a smart alec about it

Because, no matter how much research he does, he'll never know what you know from experience

(rare "Kyle being humble" moment spotted 🤯)

Kenny

I honestly don't think he'd take you all that seriously at first

Like, to him, if it doesn't affect your personality it isn't important

When you first told him he probably said something like:

"Damn babygirl, you still fine asf though.."

Only partially ironically 💀 (also, he uses "babygirl" as a gender-neutral term)

It's only when he actually sees you being affected by it that he gets worried

He totally freaks out the first time, and after that he sits down with you and makes you actually explain things to him

He tries to commit them to memory, but he's not going to remember everything

And he's pretty self-aware about that, so he just tries to be careful around you

Not "walking on eggshells" careful, just "no roughhousing/rough play"

And he always double-checks whenever you switch gears in terms of physical activity

"Doing okay? Need to sit down?"

He'll hold your hand and sit with you whenever you do need to sit down :)

And he'll talk casually; he always feels better when you're sitting

Mainly because he knows that's the only way you can't hurt yourself... just sitting doing nothing

Thank you for this request! And thanks so much for reading, take care duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

[hold-your-applause]

I never was the type to fall for Slytherin boys

And yet...

Warning: Spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy

Vulnerable

Many things had changed in the few short months Ominis had been back at Hogwarts, and while he had initially found them to be overwhelming, enough time had passed to allow him to grow accustomed to them.

Somehow, you were not one of them.

That wasn't entirely true. When you had first appeared in his life, it had all felt rushed, what with his dear friend Sebastian spilling one secret after the next to you in his attempt to rope you into his search for a cure for Anne. At first Ominis had felt almost betrayed when he discovered you coming out of the Undercroft, despite your attempts to defend Sebastian by lying and saying you had found it all on your own.

He had responded harshly to you, and it was something he would quickly come to regret.

He wasn't one to partake in frivolous gossip, but his lack of sight either blessed or cursed him with excellent hearing, depending on how one chose to look at it. It didn't take long for news to spread of you helping anyone who so much as sighed within earshot of you. You had become hard to locate most days; if you weren't attending classes, you were off running errands in Hogsmeade or rushing around the Highlands doing... whatever it was you got up to in the little spare time you seemed to have.

He shouldn't have been surprised when you approached him to speak about the Scriptorium on Sebastian's behalf, and in truth, part of him wasn't. What did surprise him was how easily you quelled his anxiety over entering such a place.

It was even more shocking how you had gotten him to speak Parseltongue after so many years.

After the three of you had ended up trapped just as poor Noctua had, he could no longer pretend he could not understand why people got so attached to you so quickly. You had taken in the hand you were dealt, and you considered every angle before making the decision to allow Sebastian to cast the Cruciatus Curse on you. You took it in stride despite their concerns, and it wasn't much later that you would admit to him that you had partially made your choice because you thought it would easier for him to listen to your cries over Sebastian's.

If anyone were to ask him now, he would say that you had been wrong.

He could feel himself losing Sebastian with each day that passed. The boy wasn't as sly as he believed he was, and Ominis caught the two of you with an item that would only spell trouble.

If he hadn't been so furious, he would have been touched to hear your attempts at getting Sebastian to include him.

But he was distraught; the idea of losing the only good thing he had away from home, the only person he trusted with his darkest secrets and his scars and his baggage was becoming a reality, and there was nothing he could think of to stop it.

And yet, with nothing to gain for yourself that he could tell, you had offered a solution. A means to protect what was left of his relationship with Sebastian with the hopes of being able to salvage it once the dust had settled.

And he let you.

He tried to convince himself it was because he was desperate at the time, but he could not ignore the obvious truth once he had found his way back to the castle: you always knew what people needed to hear.

But it wasn't just that. You were so painfully genuine with your eagerness to help, to support, to fix, that you made it impossible to not trust you. Your intentions weren't just worn on your sleeves; it was imbued in every word, every touch, every move that came from you.

If he didn't already witness it for himself, he would have thought you were incapable of lying.

But you didn't need to. Somehow, your brazen honesty didn't work as a detriment to you. Instead, it was its own armor that protected you from the worst of the world, allowing not just you to be open and trusting, but the people around you as well.

He was no different.

There was still much he didn't know about you. You never spoke about your life before Hogwarts, and while he couldn't be sure, he didn't get the sense that your life had been anywhere as miserable as his. He wondered if maybe that was what allowed you to do as you pleased, so unafraid of what harm may come to you. While he was so guarded and afraid to engage with most people, you were the complete opposite; something that would normally irritate him.

Yet here he was, sitting with you in the safety of the Undercroft, attempting to study while he did his best to ignore the warmth of your head resting on his shoulder, your steady breathing telling him you were fast asleep.

This was a brand new development. One he was not prepared for.

He had told you of his sins, of the crimes he had committed in his past that he planned to spend the rest of his time atoning for. The pain he inflicted on people undeserving of it was something he knew he could never take back, but he also found himself unable to forgive himself for it. While it wasn't your place to forgive him, you hadn't so much as flinched at the confession, instead trying to assure him that the fault wasn't his.

Sebastian had said the same thing countless times, but he was surprised to find how desperately he wanted to believe it when you had spoken it instead.

Damn you for making it seem so easy.

The year had been full of surprises for him so far, things that normally would have left him reeling, distressed. Things that would make him feel exposed.

Perhaps the biggest surprise was just how okay you made him feel about it.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Hemlock cooper howard/ the ghoul!

Hemlock — a dream that turns into reality, a desperate embrace, skin to skin

———

He had been gone for two days. He’d said he had some business in a nearby town, but that it wouldn’t take more than half a day.

You knew better than to leave the place where you’d set up camp, lest he came back and wouldn’t be able to find you, but every passing hour you grew more and more restless.

What if something had happened to him? What if he somehow needed your help? Or if he was stuck somewhere?

There was simply no way of knowing.

He can take care of himself, you’d remind yourself constantly, but that still didn’t make the anxiety abate. You would give it two more days before going to look for him. In the meantime, all you could do was keep vigil for his return.

It had gotten to the point where you had dreams about his return, only to wake up to darkness and disappointment.

But on the third evening, the dream took a different direction. His figure looming over yours, his gloveless hands trailing fire on your skin wherever they touched. The ache that awakened within you was no less dull in your unconscious state. Your body writhed slightly, wanton and restless.

You heard a faint chuckle, and that finally made you stir. Slowly, you opened your eyes and blinked as they struggled to adjust to the darkness.

As it turned out, it wasn’t just a dream, if the shadowy figure above you was any indication. You could see his smug grin better, one of his hands pinching your hip, and you fully awakened.

"Honey, I'm home," he murmured teasingly.

You punched his arm and he took it gracefully, raising his hairless eyebrows in amusement.

"Are you serious right now?" You hissed. “Don’t scare me like that. What the hell happened?”

"Jus' got a little sidetracked, is all," he said casually, shrugging one shoulder.

He tilted his head to one side at your scowl, not satisfied with his vague explanation.

Another rough chuckle and something like fondness briefly flashed in his eyes. "What? Don't tell me you thought I was just gonna leave you here... "

"I thought that maybe... I don't know," you sighed. "I just know how much you like looking for trouble."

His hands traveled upwards, fingers brushing past your ribcage. "Why do you think I keep ya around, hmm?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't deny that his words warmed you. He let you draw him into an embrace, his weight pressing you against the ground -- a small mercy to finally quell your anxieties.

Then hands were roaming once more, breaths came quicker, and lips clashed against one another hungrily. He felt the rapid beat of your heart against his chest, but soon enough, it was racing for an entirely different reason.

All was almost forgiven.

-----------

[eyeritestuff]

“I’m home.”

——

Tom (Eddsworld) x Reader [FUTURE AU]

Characters: Tom

Warnings: none,, just sad or whateva (send help)

Author’s note: don’t ask where i got inspo… short bc erm yah :3 i didn’t check for typos so oopsies !

——

The night was bleak, but yet somehow managed to house life with all of the neon city lights. You let out breath, only to see it animate as smoke in front of you. It was nothing you weren’t already used to, however living in America for 10 years will make you appreciate the little sun home had.

You had just got off the plane and were awaiting a bus to your hotel. You came here on impulse.. you were starting to get anxiety at the idea. What was the whole purpose of this trip? You tried to quell it, and so you looked down at your phone to see a missed call from- oh.. oh.

Immediately, you unlock your phone and redial, and with the same amount of swiftness, the other side picked up.

“Hello?”

His voice, it sounded so different. It was woven with misery. It’s not the him you knew. Of course, in the past he always had his monotone and sassy way of responding, but it’s.. different. Does he even know? He hasn’t called you all this time up until this point.. he had to know.

“Tom..?”

You choked out. Why were you getting emotional? This didn’t make any sense. You missed him, yes, vbht he hurt you. It’s probably the nostalgia from being at here again. At home.

But home didn’t look like home anymore.

“ahh.. y/n..,” he sighed and your breath hitched, “i’m sorry.. i’m so so sorry.”

You grabbed your stuff and got off of the bench you were sat at and started walking.

“Please don’t hang up, and listen. I don’t know why I didn’t call. I think about you every night. I was mad... I think I was mad. I was hurt you didn’t even hesitate to leave. I didn’t show up at the airport the day you left and I regret it everyday. The promise you made all those years ago.. we were teenagers, I know, but I can’t help but remind myself of it every time I think of you.”

Your walking pace started getting faster. Next thing you knew, you took a sharp left turn, then a right, then you continued on straight. Your body was guiding you at this point, but you didn’t care. As long as the tears didn’t fall. You listened intently as his breath hitched and couldn’t help but feel your stomach turn.

“I got the letter you sent me.. and I never wrote back. I’m sorry. I read it everyday. I tried writing back, and I’ve kept every draft. I want to read it to you one day.. I don’t know when that day will be, but y/n.. when I read the last part.. when you said ‘Til infinity.. did you really mean it? Do you still love me? Did the feelings ever leave?? Y/n I can’t begin to apologize enough..”

Next time your conscious decided to check up on your surroundings, you were in a building signing a visitor list with your shoulder prompting up your phone to your ear.

“Y/n.. I love you. I never stopped loving you. I was hurt, and I was upset.. that I lost the only person I ever recognized as a part of me. I didn’t want your happiness to depend on me. I wanted you to have the world, and the luxuries I couldn’t afford you. For fuck sake y/n, I could barely afford repairing Susan. I saw how much you wanted to become a doctor.. so I thought letting you go would be best,” he let out a sad chuckle, and it made you flash a sad smile in return, “I’m probably not making any sense, am I? Whatever.. I just needed to get this out to you.”

You found yourself standing in a doorway to an office. You didn’t dare make a noise once you realized where you were: It was his office.

How’d you even think to come here.. when did you even ask the front desk for directions? How’d you know— well, you knew what he was up to because Matt did keep in contact. Still, it made your stomach do flips.

You heard him speak twice over because you hadn’t dare hang up, “Y/n… you don’t have to say anything but..” He stopped, and so did your heart. The feedback from the phones was enough to make the back that was facing you turn. To say he looked different was an understatement.

You watched as his frown turned into a shaky smile, then into a frown again, but this time he bit down on his lip. Probably to stop the quivering. You couldn’t tell if he was crying due to the goggles he had on, but you knew he was in shock by the way he shakily stood up.

Your heart sank watching how he tried to stay strong for you.

The tears fell when he hung up.

The sobs followed when you closed the door behind you.

Tom slowly moved from behind his desk to get closer to you, only for him to run towards you after watching your legs struggle to keep you up. Falling into his arms, you clung onto him for dear life. He smelled so nice.. the alcohol scent was softer now.. did he lay off a little? All the memories your dream job helped you repress came rushing back. He was your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first true best friend… your first everything.

“I left you.. I broke our promise, and I’m so sorry Tom-” he interrupted, “You were my responsibility and I avoided you because I was being selfish.”

You looked up at him, and him down at you.

“I love you so much… you look so miserable… yet you look so pretty.. you’ve grown up.” You tried to smile but you realized it probably looked like you were dying, and the awkward laugh you choked out ended up sounding like a whimper.

Burying your face into his chest, you spoke muffled, “I regret leaving you. I was selfish.. and I didn’t think of you-” “No y/n-” “Listen.. please.. I don’t need the money. At least not anymore. I wanna be here with you again. I wanna be with you.. again. I wanna have the stupid family you always spoke about.. you know.. the one with the mutated dog and a daughter with the inability to tell her left from the right..”

You heard a chuckle rumble from him and began to pet your head, “I can’t believe you remember that..” Oh his voice sounded sad.. like he was crying. Brace for rejection, is what you told yourself.

“Id like that a lot y/n..”

You looked up to see Tom, now without his goggles.. Oh his eyes… what happened to your love when you were away. You couldn’t help but cry harder seeing him like that. You weren’t there for him. You watched as his face grew pained watching your reaction. Like a child, you rubbed your eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Tom… I love you so much. There’s so much I want to say but I can’t manage to stop.. barely even speak… could you ever forgive me..? For doing this to you.. for leaving you like this..”

You felt his hand gently grace your face.. what once was a soft hand turned rough.

“I’d forgive you a hundred times over if it meant I got to hold you again.”

[amaya-writes]

Calling Them After You have A Bad Dream Of Them Part One: Shigaraki

Notes: tbh I just saw this idea sitting in my drafts yesterday and suddenly felt motivated to write it between classes so here's a cute lil drabble. send me an ask for any other characters you would want this idea with

Warnings: mentions of nightmares/bad dreams, mentions of kidnapping (very lightly, he thought sm bad happened to you), reader calls Tomura Tomu because I think it's cute and was going for a cutesy reader vibe

Characters involved: Shigaraki Tomura

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Your hand shook around the cold metal of your phone even as you pressed it against your ear.

Long rings echoed from the device, with each sound making a new wave of anxiety surge through your abdomen.

He was fine. You knew that. You had just gotten off of the phone with Tomura a couple hours back and he made it clear he wasn't harmed during their fight against the heroes.

He was safe, just like the rest of the liberation was.

But that dream.

The mere thought of your dream was enough to make shivers wrack your body as you crawled further under your blanket.

The warmth of the soft material helped remotely calm your racing heart but it did nothing to quell the fear consuming you.

You wanted him. You needed him.

You needed to feel Tomura's arms wrap around your form as you buried your nose in his long hair. You needed to have him by your side so you could forget.

Forget about all the blood and decay, forget about the fire and the dust that made you double over in a coughing fit as you watched the heroes take your love away from you. Forget about the screams, about the way blood matted his skin as he screamed for you to-

"Hello?"

The sound of his voice made you jerk up in surprise but you found yourself scrambling to reach your phone a moment later.

"Tomu? Hi! Uh- I-"

You trailed off then, taking in the sound of fabric ruffling on his side of the phone as he no doubt moved around in bed to find the blaring red alarm clock on his bedside.

"It's two am, baby, why are you still up?"

A long yawn followed his question, the sound causing your heart to clench in guilt.

You woke him up. He had spent the entire week restlessly fighting off the heroes and barely had time to blink much less sleep. He was exhausted, and had collapsed almost as soon as the liberation escaped the battleground.

And you were stupid enough to wake him up when he was too tired to even move.

You were stupid. So stupid. You were a problem, a liability. You were useless.

Just like in the dream. You couldn't save him, you couldn't help him, you would just trouble him and be the reason for his demise.

You didn't realise tears were streaming down your face until it was too late and a sob escaped your lips.

You wished Tomura was sleep deprived enough to not hear the sound, but the sharp sounds of fabric from the other side of the phone told you otherwise.

"Baby? What- are you okay? What's going on? Fuck, I knew I should have kept you here with me! Those wretched heroes-"

"Tomu, I'm fine."

You had to raise your voice to make him actually listen to you, but you somehow managed to subdue his panicked rambles.

"Where are you?"

"Home."

Another rustle of fabric, but this time you could hear him moving out of bed.

"I'll be there soon."

"But Tomu-"

He cut the call before you could finish, forcing you to once again curl up on your bed with an annoyed sigh.

By the time you awoke, his fingers were already carding through your hair.

The sudden feeling made you jolt up in alarm but you were quick to return to his embrace the second your eyes took in Tomura's familiar form.

His clothes were a mess and his hair riddled with tangles. Blood stained the sides of his neck and bits of his skin peeking out from under his black sweater and pants. And you weren't certain, but you could almost swear you saw a bruise or two blossoming across his arms.

Tomura was injured and imperfect. But he was here. He was safe.

And he was looking at you like he wanted to murder someone.

"Who hurt you?"

"What? No one, Tomu, it's not like that."

His eyebrows furrowed at your words, but he thankfully chose not to say anything as you sat up and shifted to loosely wrap your arms around him.

"I- well, I had a nightmare. A bad one. It was about you and-"

You sucked in a sharp breath, but even that wasn't enough to help you voice your nightmares. So you didn't.

"I was just scared, I'm sorry I woke you up."

Tomura remained quiet even as you huddled closer to his chest. His fingers continued untangling your hair, never stopping even when he let out a painfully strained chuckle.

"You made me run halfway across a city for a nightmare?"

"I didn't mean to! I told you not to come I-"

His hand moved to hold your chin even as you spoke, with his fingers squishing your cheeks to cut off anything you could say.

"Don't care. You can repay me with breakfast in the morning."

His hands dropped from your face then, instead shifting to your waist as he pulled the two of you under the blankets.

The room descended into a comfortable silence broken by the periodic scratches of his nails carding through your hair and the soft rustles of fabric.

Normally, the silence would have made you stare owlishly at your ceiling as your brain flooded with thoughts of your dreams.

But not now. Not when you were surrounded by his warm presence ready to turn all your nightmares to dust.

With him, you were safe. You were untouchable.

You had found your sanctuary in the arms of a villain. But you were fine with that.

"Love you, Tomu."

He let out a soft hum against the crown of your head, with his lips parting to echo your words a moment later.

[pimosworld]

Pairing- Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary- Javier gets a dog

CW- Angst,Fluff,lots of fluff, adopting a pet, shameless flirting, Chucho being adorable, Javi talking to a dog a lot.

WK-3k

A/N- This is my first time writing for Javi so be gentle. This wasn’t an ask but someone really wanted a Javi beagle fic and it spoke to me since I work at a pet hospital. Please enjoy this adorable one shot. This is for you @keylimebeag

Not beta read

My shelter

Life in Laredo was fine. 

  Javier had his father, his health, plenty of things to do around the ranch to keep him occupied. It was also a plus that he wasn’t being shot at everyday. 

  It was fine. 

  He tries not to seem ungrateful for his life, especially in front of his dad. He always worked so hard to provide for him and his mother. He was so proud, telling everyone in town his son was going to take down Pablo Escobar. 

  He didn't miss the way people treated him when he moved back home. He was not a celebrity, nothing special…just doing his job. At least that’s how he felt. Now everyday was the same, get up at the crack of dawn, feed the animals,have breakfast with his pops,do whatever project was assigned so that he could feel useful, have dinner and go to sleep. 

Sleep wasn’t usually easy to come by these days. 

  Rinse and repeat, day in and day out. 

  Tonight is going to be one of those sleepless nights. He’s been nervous  all day, smoking more than he’d care to admit. None of his daily tasks seemed to quell the oncoming anxiety. His dad is making dinner and even that is setting him on edge. The clinking of the plates, the scraping of the pan. 

  Chuchos has been treating him like a scared animal in a cage all day and he wants to tell him to lay off but he can’t. 

  “I think you need a companion.” 

  “What!”Javi looks up from his plate at his dad. 

  “Ms. Valencia said that could help with ptsd.” Chucho scrapes the remaining carnitas onto Javier’s plate even though he had said he was done. 

  “Listen pops, I don’t really need Ms. Valencia’s advice on ptsd or help finding a companion right now.” 

  Chucho sighs and looks down at his plate, moving the food around with his fork. “I mean…like a dog or something. I’m not trying to play matchmaker.” 

  Javier points toward the window. “I have plenty of animals to keep my company.” 

  His dad laughs, easing some of the tension of the conversation. “Well son they can’t come inside or go on walks. It was just an idea.” 

  “Thanks but I’ll be fine with the cows. You’ve been… spending a lot of time with Ms. Valencia.” 

  “Don’t change the subject Javier.” He stands to grab his plate but Javi ushers him to sit and heads to the sink to start the dishes. “Thanks for doing those son…I’m gonna head out, don’t wait up for me.” 

  Javi smirks as his dad throws on his coat and fixes his hair in the reflection of the toaster. 

  “You kids be safe.” Chucho waves him off before closing the back door. 

  ****

  After another long sleepless night, Javi decided to head into town. He was just going to the market to pick up a few things for dinner and stop by the hardware store for longer screws to fix the fence so the cows would stop getting out. 

  He’s driven by it dozens of times, somehow he’s never had a reason to go inside. He really shouldn’t go inside. He’ll never hear the end of it from Chucho. Laredo Animal Protective Society free adoptions. Maybe he’ll just go in and look. 

  There’s a few dogs playing in the small yard next to the building, all happily wagging their tails as they follow him along the fence. He can’t imagine how there's any dogs here at all with how cute they all look. He’s not even inside and he’s already a goner. 

  ****

  The bell chimes at the front door and you have to cease petting the senior cat October or Tobi for short. Despite it being free adoption day, you didn’t have very many customers so you’re excited to maybe help make a connection. It comes as a surprise when you enter the front lobby and see the last person you would expect to be at your job. 

  Javier Peña 

  Even with his back turned you can still make out that stance. He’s standing with his head cocked to the side as he reads the information board. 

  He hears you shuffle in and turns to greet you. His shy smile puts you at ease, knowing his reputation it was a relief to see him a little nervous. 

  “Welcome to LAPS, are you here for our free adoptions?” 

  Javi can see your mouth moving as you approach him, but he’s not entirely sure he heard a word you said. Your disarming smile and bubbly charm has him feeling something he hasn’t felt in quite some time. 

  Maybe his dad was right. 

  You’re patiently waiting for him to respond as he stands there dumbfounded. You don’t seem intimidated or annoyed by his presence as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. 

  “I’m ugh…not entirely sure what I’m looking for.” 

  “Well let’s start with something easy then. Are you a dog or cat person?” You turn towards the kennel doors hoping he gets the hint to follow you. 

  “A little of both I guess, but I’m here for a dog.” Now that the words have left his mouth it starts to feel a little more real. 

  You clap your hands together and lead him into the doors on the right. “The dogs are this way, we try to keep them separate so the cats can relax.” You turn to him and smile again, he’s not sure how every single person that walks in here doesn’t leave with a pet if this is how you treat the customers. 

  You pass a few cages that are marked in various colors, he silently follows you as you explain what the colors mean. Some are already adopted and others are just boarding. A few of them are getting acclimated to the shelter or waiting for people to come get them because they’re just lost. He hasn’t really looked at any of them, too focused on the way your blue scrubs hug your curves. 

  At the end of the cages are some long runs, a beautiful German shepherd is in the first one. Jesse James is his name, he’s 4 years old and very excited as he puts his large paws on the front of the door. 

  “He’s a sweetheart, his owners couldn’t afford his knee surgery so they surrendered him to us. Unfortunately he needs another surgery so keep that in mind.” 

  Javi thinks he’s nice, but that’s a lot to take on. Plus he already has large animals to take care of.

  The second run has an elderly looking golden retriever Audrey is the name on the tag, you stop to open the door as she gingerly makes her way towards you wagging her tail. Your soft voice as you crouch down and greet her has his heart practically melting. Her face is golden and graying in some spots. 

  “She’s twelve…so I don’t know if  she’s a good fit for you.” You answer the silent question on cue as if you can read his mind. 

  “What’ll happen to her, if no one takes her.” The timber in his voice cracks slightly at the prospect. 

  You look up at him while Audrey enjoys your soft pets and see the heartbroken look in his eyes. 

  “Oh…this is a no kill shelter. If no one takes her she’ll just live out her life here with us.” You stand and close the door and she slinks back to her plush bed. “We have to do free adoptions occasionally when space gets limited.”

  The final run has no tag on the door. A small beagle comes to the front as you open the door. He looks young but not a puppy. You step aside and let Javi crouch down to greet him. Javi scratches him behind the ear and is rewarded with small licks to his face. 

  “Hi buddy, you want to come home with me.” He barks once and wags his tail and Javi has all but made his decision. 

  It’s adorable the way Javi coos at the small dog, you can’t help but look at the way his jeans stretch when he crouched down to say hi. His black shirt is taught over his muscular frame and a sliver of skin just barely shows as he leans forward. 

  “What’s his story?” He catches you checking him out briefly when he turns around. He’ll have to send some flowers with his pops to Ms. Valencia as a thank you. 

  “She was roaming the streets a few weeks ago. She’s past her waiting period for someone to claim her.” 

  “Oh so you’re a lady.” You chuckle at the way his voice changes as he properly addresses her. “Hola cariño, cómo te llamas?” 

  “She doesn’t have a name just yet.” She barks twice in his face and he lets out a hearty laugh. “She likes to bark, I hope you don’t mind.” 

  “No one out at the ranch will complain.” He says it mostly to himself as he’s all but confirmed that he won’t be going home empty handed. 

  ****

  “Well let’s get your paperwork sorted out.” He’s muttering half phrases to her in English and Spanish as she rolls over for him to rub her belly. “I promise she’ll be here when we’re done Javier.”

  It’s not just the way you say his name but the fact that he doesn’t remember even introducing himself. He looks up at you then and notices your name tag. The name is vaguely familiar but he knows he’d remember your face. 

  “Have we met before?” He asks as he stands and closes the run door. 

  You laugh as you make your way towards the front, knowing he’ll follow close behind. 

  “Yes Javier Peña we’ve met before.” 

  A slight panic falls over him as he tries to rack his brain for any memory of you. You’re grazing your fingers along the cages as you speak softly to the other animals. 

  “I’m sure I’d remember if we met.” That flirting tone that you knew to be the real Javier makes an appearance as you round the corner to the front desk. 

  “I won’t hold it against you. I was a few years under you and I guess you would call me a late bloomer, but I hate that term.” You nervously bite your lip as you slide him the paperwork for the adoption.

  He feels a little bad that he didn’t remember you. He had blinders on back then, only had eyes for one woman before he left for Colombia. He wants to ask you out for coffee, maybe even go to lunch. He’s still hesitant now having to approach women in a proper manner. When women practically throw themselves at you it’s hard to remember how to court someone. 

  You gasp and skip to the back before he has a chance. You return with an arm full of stuff and set it on the counter. 

  “We just had some donations so you’re in luck Javier Peña.” He doesn’t normally like when people use his full name. It makes him feel old and official, but he loves the way it rolls off your tongue as you lick your bottom lip, a nervous habit he’s noticed during your interaction. “ Food to last a few weeks, toys, and a leash. Perfect way to get you started.” 

  It does feel perfect.

  “I’ll go get your girl. You’ll have to tell me when you come up with a name.” You wink at him and disappear behind the doors again. 

  ****

  His new companion is sleeping comfortably in the passenger seat of his truck. She stirs occasionally when the road gets a little bumpy but relaxes almost immediately. 

  The setting sun shines through the passenger window and she lifts her paw to cover face. He chuckles to himself at the human-like gesture as he reaches over and scratches behind her ear. 

  “Never thought I’d have a partner in crime again.” She lifts her head and barks at him. “You’re just as talkative as my old partner, Steve.” She speaks again, her hearty boisterous bark echoing in the cab of the truck. 

  She sits up as he drives down the path leading to the ranch. Her soft pants and excited tail wags as she takes in the sight of all the farm animals has him feeling a sense of contentment. 

  “Steve is no name for a lady, cariño.” She paws at his arm and lets out a small whine. “How about Murphy?” She barks twice in his face as he parks his truck in front of the house. 

  Steve is gonna love this. 

  ****

  Chucho drops a piece of meat on the floor as Murphy hurriedly scarfs it down. 

  “Dad, don’t feed her your food, she has her own food.” Javi looks at Murphy as she licks her chops. 

  “I didn’t give her anything son.”  Chucho slowly dips his hand below the table to feed her another piece. He holds his hand up to shush her as he saunters off to the hallway to enjoy her treat. 

  Javi rolls his eyes as she returns from the hallway and lays down in her bed near the back door. She looks outside and lets out a puff of air as she buries her head under the blanket. 

  “I’m glad you took my advice, Jav.” He looks up at his dad smiling to himself while he finishes his meal. 

  “Technically I took Ms. Valencia’s advice.” His dad scowls as he shrugs his shoulders, standing to gather his plate in the sink. 

  ****

  “You named your dog after me!” He can hear the girls giggle in the background as Steve shoos them away. 

  “Not exactly, she’s tolerable and I like her company.” He stares down at the dog, perched at his feet while he stands in the kitchen at the receiver. 

  “If you missed me that much you could’ve come visit.” 

  “Ha,ha very funny.” It’s true he did miss his partner, Murphy is turning out to be a wonderful replacement. 

  “I’d like to meet this girl that convinced you to get a dog.” His teasing tone is clearly evident over the phone. He briefly mentioned you so he’s not sure how Steve could even pick up on his obvious crush. 

  “Goodnight Murphy.” 

  “Are you talking to me or the dog?” Connie can’t disguise her laugh on the other end, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation. 

  “The girls and Connie will get to meet your namesake the next time you come to see me.” 

  They say their goodbyes as Javi hangs up the phone. Murphy lets out a long drawn out yawn and Javi agrees it’s definitely time for bed after a long eventful day. Her first night not sleeping in the shelter, it pains him and warms his heart all at once knowing she won’t ever have to go back there. 

  “Let’s go to bed Murph.” The pitter patter of her feet follows him down the hall to his room. He places her bed in the corner and strips off his clothes. She hops up onto the edge of the bed before he has a chance to tell her no. 

  “Your bed is down there cariño.” She rolls over exposing her belly as she nuzzles further into the blankets and he knows it will be nearly impossible to tell her to get down. 

  “Fine, but just tonight.” He doesn’t even want to address the fact that he spent most of his day talking to her, he wonders if she can even understand him. 

  It won’t be until much later that he realizes how peacefully he slept that night. 

  ****

  Javi stretches his tired muscles as he takes in the soft morning light peeking through the window. He doesn’t immediately register how comfortable he is or well rested. He’s usually up before the crack of dawn so he knows it’s much later than he’s used to waking up.

  The edge of the bed is empty save for the small indent where Murphy laid all night. Her bed is empty as well and the door is slightly ajar. Panic sets in as he throws back the blanket and pulls on his sweats forgoing a shirt to look for his companion. 

  You said she was roaming the streets when she was found and he hopes she didn’t decide to run off in the middle of the night. Despite requiring opposable thumbs to open the door, he can’t think straight until he knows she’s safe. 

  He’s calling her name throughout the house as he takes note of the kitchen being gently used. There’s a small plate next to the food bowl of untouched kibble with some leftover scrambled eggs. 

   Chucho 

  It’s the first morning since he’s been home where he really takes in the sight. His dad is at the fence with the calves and Murphy is sitting beside him. She’s looking up at him as he explains something to her as if she can understand him. 

  He points out to the pasture and she looks out and barks at the small calves running to their mother. Javi is very glad he took that step and brought her home because more than one person seemed to need her presence in their lives. 

  He should call and thank you. 

  He heads over to his truck to pull out the paperwork from the adoption. It’s really the only way he has to contact you so he hopes it’s you who picks up the phone. 

  He slams the truck door and sees Murphy running toward him full speed. 

  “She’s excited to see her papa.” Chucho exclaims as he sends a wave to his son. “I’m going to feed the rest of the animals. I'll catch up with you later.” He winks at Javi as he lumbers off to the barn. 

  ****

  His hands are a little shaky as he dials the number to the shelter. Murphy is laying on his feet beside the table as she drifts off to sleep again, probably having been awake for hours with Chucho. 

  “Laredo Animal Protective Society.” Your sweet voice comes through the receiver and he’s nervous and relieved all at once. 

  “Hi, it’s Javier…Peña.” You chuckle a little on the other end. 

  “I hope you’re not sick of her already.” 

  “Oh no, not at all…Murphy loves it here.” He looks down at her as she rolls over exposing her belly again. 

  “Murphy? I’m guessing there’s a story there.” 

  “Ya there is…I’d love to tell you over lunch or dinner.” Murphy barks and he nearly drops the phone. 

  “I think that bark means dinner, and I’d love to hear it Javier Peña.” 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[thebunnednun]

Whispers of the Heart Dracule Mihawk x Fm! Reader (Part 4)

I do not own the artwork its by: @xuchuan25 Tell them they're amazing y'all!

Chapter 4 in the building y'all!!!! I just needed to see my Buggy.

Part 1 can be found: Here

Part 2 is right: Here

Part 3: Right over yonder

Don't be afraid to send me any requests my loves and if you are waiting for the next installment I have another Mihawk story:

*Shadows of the Blade (Dracule Mihawk x Assassin reader)

If you like sexy swordplay and themes of overcoming trauma then this is the story for you!. If you wanna skip to the good stuff try chapter 3.

Backstory:

You've been Dracule Mihawk's personal maid and housekeeper for what feels like an eternity. Let's cut to the chase – you're a badass, sweetheart. Sexy, cool, and confident, with a reputation that precedes you. Been friends with the stoic man for eons by now.

Everyone knows you or knows of you, and it's not just because you keep Mihawk's castle running like a well-oiled machine.

So what happens when you develop feelings for your old friend and boss?

What does he do when he comes home to find you in his room without your panties?

Also, muneca-chan= baby doll

ON WITH THE SHOW!!~

________________Chapter 4: A Clown's Counsel___________________

"Everything is going to be fine," you murmur softly, your voice echoing faintly into the open air. 

Your heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you stand alone in the vast, empty waters of the ocean. With a determined expression, you whisper reassuring words to yourself, trying to quell the rising tide of anxiety.

"You've locked down the castle securely. You just need to make this quick trip and return before Mihawk, Perona, and Zoro even realize you're gone." Taking a deep breath, you glance around the dimly lit deck one last time before turning your attention to your bag.

With meticulous care, you rummage through its contents, double-checking that you have everything you need for your journey. Each item holds a significance, a memory of past adventures and encounters that fuels your determination.

'I am a pirate queen of all the oceans. I was raised on an island in the Grand line and chose to live a life of peace. I can fucking sail a boat!'

After hanging up with Shanks last night, you decided to get up and moving if you were going to make your trip in time. Mihawk rarely ever sent word of his return home, unless he wanted a specific dinner and wine waiting for him.

You knew you'd have anywhere from a few days to two months before you saw him again. With a long sigh, you held your face in your hands for a moment of calm. 

The weather had turned for the worst overnight leaving you to sail the nearby waters in the middle of a rain storm. But, you honestly didn't mind one bit. It reminded you of your home island and like the homesick tall-child you were, you stood there on your little boat without a jacket or umbrella.

Call you crazy, but you wished for it to rain harder so all the confusing emotions inside you could be washed away somehow. Looking behind you, your eyes caught the slight glimmer of two familiar objects looking out of the bag behind you.

"Mhm," walking over, you reached inside, allowing your fingers to grasp the handle of two familiar old friends. The golden ridges caught the light from your dimming lantern.

Two identical machetes gleamed back at you, a parting gift from your mother. Your native tongue etched into the blade, they possessed a soft hum, almost whispering out to you. The temptation to harness your belt on and feel them resting on your hips again was almost irresistible. But instead, you drew your bag closed over them and set it down once more.

Constantly fighting for your life and the life of your crew mates was not something you missed about the old life. Yes, battles of honor were fun and sometimes even lead to creating new friends, however, there were too many attempts of pure murder. 

As a caption, you very much followed Gold Rodgers example of what a pirate should be. However, you also believed in not looking for fights. Now, you weren't out of practice by any means, Mihawk would never allow that.

But you could feel yourself adjust instantly to this old way of living and it kinda bothered you. However, resisting the temptation let you know that you were still you. 

You really have come so far in life. <3

Satisfied that you are well-prepared, you make your way to the shores of a nearby island, your footsteps echoing softly in the silence of the night. As you reach the edge of the water, you pause, your gaze scanning the horizon with a sense of anticipation.

Knowing that discretion is key, you reach into your bag once more, retrieving a carefully crafted cloak. The rumors of your death would fool the general public, but not other pirates or worse- fame hungry pirate captions.

You disappeared under the deck for a moment to find an old mirror. Then with practiced precision, you transform your appearance, concealing your identity behind a clever facade. As you adjust the final details of your disguise, you feel a surge of confidence wash over you. A small smile reaches your lips before a giggle slips out.

'Shanks would love this.'

With your transformation complete, you set off along the shoreline, your eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of activity. This island was Buggy's last known location, and you are determined to find him. Every step brings you closer to your goal, your senses heightened with anticipation.

'Now or never.'

As you navigate the sandy shores, the salty breeze caresses your cheeks, invigorating your spirit with a sense of adventure. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a soft glow upon the landscape, guiding your way through the darkness.

With each passing moment, your anticipation grows, fueled by the promise of reunion and the thrill of the unknown. Your senses are sharp, attuned to the subtlest of sounds and movements, as you scan the surroundings for any sign of life.

And then, in the distance, you catch a glimpse of movement—a flicker of movement amidst the shadows.

A big top. 

Without a second thought, you take off running in that direction. Unworried about the rain, you can barely hear the sound of your feet hitting the muddy ground over your pounding heart. Your breath quickens with excitement as you draw closer, your footsteps quickening with each stride.

"No you fucking shit head, it's WRONG!"

"Found you!"

Finally reaching the tent, you poked inside to see where that lovable asshole was. Ducking under the bleachers, you watched as a tall familiar figure threw a barrage of insults at some huddled performers. Several freaks were passing and going throughout the chaos to practice their acts and hone their talents. 

Amidst a flurry of activity, stood Buggy, his presence commanding attention amidst the chaos. You pause for a moment, watching him rehearse with his performers, a fond smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"If you can't get the lion to dance by this Friday, I am going to eat him. I don't give a FUCK how chewy he is!"

There stood a timid man with an animal that cowered before the infamous caption of the East Blue.

Ever the drama queen, Buggy's appearance was as flamboyant and eccentric as ever. He stood tall and proud, his colorful attire adorned with sequins and feathers that shimmered in the light. His hair, a riotous explosion of bright blue curls, framed his face in wild abandon, adding to his larger-than-life persona. His eyes, usually twinkling with mischief and charm, were now almost bloodshot and darted around the room, taking in every detail with a keen sense of curiosity. 

You can't help but chuckle at Buggy's theatrics, a familiar warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of him. Despite his bombastic demeanor, you know there's a soft side to him that few ever see.

As the chaos around him continues, you take a moment to compose yourself before stepping out from your hiding spot. With a mischievous grin, you call out to him in a teasing tone:

"Now that's not nice and you know it." 

Buggy's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, "We're closed right now!"

"Oh, this dumbass." You roll your eyes under the hood before pulling it from your head. His eyes widening in surprise before a wide grin splits his face. Without a moment's hesitation, he strides forward, his arms open wide in welcome.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite troublemaker," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. With a dramatic flourish, he strides over to you, sweeping you into a tight hug that almost knocks the breath out of you.

Finding yourself unable to keep your composer, you giggle into the chest of the shockingly 6'5 man and snuggle into his chest to quil the ache in your heart, returning his embrace with just as much intensity.

"How've you been, sis?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern as he pulls back to look at you, his hands resting on the apples of your cheeks.

You relish in the familiar comfort of his presence. "Oh, you know, same old same old," you reply, trying to play it cool despite the category 8 hurricane of emotions swirling within you. "Just thought I'd drop by and say hello."

Buggy quirks an eyebrow at your casual tone, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh really? Or is there something else on your mind?" he teases, giving your left cheek a playful pinch with his fingers.

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "Maybe a little bit of both," you admit, your voice softening as you meet his gaze.

"I've missed you, Buggy. It's been too long."

Buggy's expression softens, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of your words. "I've missed you too, [Name]," he replies, his voice gentle as he squeezes your shoulders affectionately. "But something tells me there's more to this visit than just catching up."

You let out a sigh, knowing you can't hide anything from Buggy. "You know me too well," you admit, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

As Buggy's eyebrows furrow in concern, his gaze searching yours for any hint of distress, you take a deep breath, gathering the courage to confide in him. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You glance briefly at his performers, then lock eyes with Buggy again, a sense of urgency gripping your heart. "Got a place where we can chat in private?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper.

Buggy's expression flickers to something fierce, a glint of determination in his sea-green eyes as he analyzes you. Without a word, he stands tall, his shoulders squared, commanding the attention of his crew.

"Everyone is to keep performing," he announces firmly, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "And when I come back, that lion better know how to tap dance or I'm making good on my promise!" His crew responds with a chorus of "Eye Sir's!" before Buggy ushers you away, leading you to a different part of the tent.

With swift efficiency, he pushes you inside a dressing room adorned with a star, the blue clown's symbol adorning the door. As you step inside, the door closes behind you with a soft click, enveloping you in a cocoon of privacy.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you brace yourself for the conversation ahead, knowing that Buggy's keen intuition will leave no stone unturned. As you await his prompting, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support, even in the face of your deepest secrets.

The dressing room is a small, cozy space adorned with whimsical decorations that reflect the flamboyant nature of its occupants. The walls are painted a soothing shade of sky blue, with colorful streamers cascading from the ceiling, adding a playful touch to the atmosphere.

In one corner of the room, a vanity table sits adorned with an assortment of makeup and accessories, its surface gleaming under the soft glow of a dim lamp. A large mirror framed in ornate gold stands at the center, reflecting the room's eclectic charm.

Against the opposite wall, a row of hooks holds an array of costumes, each garment more vibrant and extravagant than the last. Sequins sparkle in the light, and feathers flutter gently as if caught in an unseen breeze.

In the center of the room, a plush red armchair beckons invitingly, its cushions adorned with polka dots in varying shades of blue. A small side table sits nearby, stacked with magazines and trinkets, offering a glimpse into the eclectic tastes of its occupants. The air is tinged with the faint scent of powder and perfume, a lingering reminder of the performers who call this space their own.

Despite its small size, the dressing room exudes an undeniable sense of warmth and camaraderie, a sanctuary where secrets are shared and dreams take flight.

Walking over to the vanity, you plucked a familiar red lipstick off the dresser before turning it in your fingers. "Ya know, I used to hate when you'd steal my lipstick," Buggy joked softly, crossing his arms over the swell of his chest. 

Upon hearing his words, your fingers instinctively squeeze the familiar red lipstick perched on the edge of the dresser. You hold it tighter, feeling its smooth texture against your skin, a sense of nostalgia washing over you. Looking up in the vanity mirror, you make eye contact with Buggy. His eyes sparkle with fond memories, a playful glint dancing in their depths.

You chuckle softly at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you remember the countless times you had playfully raided his makeup collection. "Well, you always did have the best shade of red," you tease back, your voice laced with affection.

Setting the lipstick back down on the vanity, you turn to face Buggy, the warmth of his presence filling the room. Despite the gravity of the conversation looming between you, his easy demeanor brings a sense of comfort, grounding you in the present moment. 

(You know shits bad when you gotta go to the crazy killer pirate clown for advice and comfort. Love and life advice at that!)

As you lean against the vanity, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm hue across your features, you find yourself lost in a moment of quiet contemplation. Memories of past adventures with Buggy flood your mind, each one a vibrant snapshot of the bond you share.

"You know," Buggy begins, his tone softening as he meets your gaze, "I've missed having you around. Things just haven't been the same without your antics to liven up the place."

His words stir something deep within you, a mixture of gratitude and longing intertwining in your heart. Despite the passage of time and the distance between you, the connection you share with Buggy remains steadfast, a beacon of light in the darkness.

"I've missed you too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

"It's been lonely without you."

A flicker of sadness crosses Buggy's features, his gaze softening with empathy. "I know, sweetheart," he says gently, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "But you're here now, and that's all that matters." You gently grasp the back of his hand that cradles your face. Almost afraid that you'll wake up in that cold and empty castle again. The warmth of Buggy's palm anchors you to the human world.

In that moment, as you stand together in the quiet intimacy of the dressing room, you are reminded of the strength of your bond with Buggy. Through thick and thin, laughter and tears, you know that he will always be there for you, ready to offer his support and unwavering friendship.

No matter the situation, you'd always been there to defend Buggy and build each other's esteem up. Even Mihawk knew not to slip up when talking about the Flashy Jester if he didn't want to be shanked again. 

Speaking of Mihawk-

"So, you gonna tell me why you showed up all of a sudden instead of sending a letter or are we gonna stand here quietly together?" His voice snapping you out of your thoughts with the buzz of its low tone.

"Don't get me wrong muneca-chan, I love seeing you." He softly muses, stepping closer towards you until he pulled the stool from under the vanity out and sits you on it before dropping into his own red chair. 

"But something tells me there's more to this visit than just catching up."

You let out a sigh, knowing you can't hide anything from Buggy. "You know me too well," you admit, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There's something really important I need to talk to you about. Shanks already knows before he called me last night, stop making that face, and you can't tell anyone else under any circumstances!"

Buggy's eyebrows furrow in concern, his gaze searching yours for any hint of distress. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts before speaking. "It's about love," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I think I have feelings for someone, Buggy."

"I think I'm in love."

Buggy's eyes widen in surprise, his expression shifting from concern to understanding.

"Ah, love," he murmurs, his voice soft with sympathy. "Love can be a tricky thing, especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

You nod, grateful for his understanding. "I just don't know what to do," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I'm torn between staying here and following my heart."

Buggy places a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. "Listen to me, [Name]," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "You can't let fear hold you back from pursuing what makes you happy. If you have feelings for someone, then you owe it to yourself to explore them, regardless of the outcome."

You take in his words, feeling a sense of clarity wash over you. "Thank you, Buggy," you say softly, your voice filled with gratitude. "I needed to hear that."

Buggy gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Anytime, sis," he replies, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Now, let's hear who the lucky one is!" 

Your smile stiffens before you whisper out quietly. Buggy frowns and leans closer from his chair.

"What's that, starshine?" 

As you gather your thoughts, the weight of your confession is lingering heavy in the air. Buggy's concern deepens, his brow furrowing as he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

With a sigh, you summon the courage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's Mihawk," you confess, your words hanging in the air like a delicate thread.

Buggy's eyes widen in surprise, his expression a mixture of shock and understanding. "Mihawk?" he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"As in, Dracule Mihawk?"

You nod slowly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the truth finally comes to light. "Yes, Mihawk," you confirm, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging within you. "I... I think I'm in love with him."

Buggy's initial reaction catches you off guard. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, a look of concern flashes across his face. "Wait, hold on a second," he says, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

You nod, feeling a pang of uncertainty creeping in. "Yes, Buggy," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know it sounds crazy, but... I think I might be in love with him."

Buggy's expression darkens, his features contorting into a mixture of shock and concern. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks, his voice laced with worry. "I mean, have you been feeling sick or something?"

You shake your head, a sense of frustration bubbling up within you. "No, Buggy, I'm not sick," you retort, a hint of irritation seeping into your tone. "I'm serious about this."

Buggy lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wild blue hair. "Look, muneca-chan," he begins, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "This isn't something to take lightly. Mihawk is... well, he's not exactly the most approachable guy, you know? And besides, he's your boss, for crying out loud!"

You feel a surge of defiance rising within you. "I know all of that, Buggy," you say firmly, your voice unwavering. "But I can't help how I feel."

Buggy's frustration mounts, and suddenly he's popping his hands off in a fit of anger.

"Has he been trying to feel up on you? OW- OKAY! PUT THE PALLET DOWN THAT ONE WAS EXPENSIVE!" 

While you were holding his makeup hostage, the clown was now rubbing where his hair brush had struck his pectoral. Slowly, you sat back down in the chair as he regarded you like a wild hellcat. A pit of dread now knotted your stomach. 

"I'm not joking Buggy, I need thoughts!" 

"And prayers, you're gonna need them with that eagle- NOT THE FUCKING FACE!" You lobbed a jar of hair cream at him before breaking down in the vanity stool. "Don't be an ass okay! I didn't say anything about you and Shanks!" You gasped, hoping that your voice wouldn't crack any further. 

The weight of your words hangs heavily in the air, and you realize just how much you've been holding back. "I... I'm sorry," you stammer, guilt washing over you as hot, fat tears slip from the corners of your eyes.

Before you can even register it, Buggy has crossed the room in a few quick strides and scooped you up into his strong arms, returning to his chair and settling you onto his lap like a small child.

With your face pressed into his striped shirt, you let the dam burst, unleashing all the pent-up tears you've been holding back. Buggy's hand runs soothingly over your back, cradling your head to his chest as he murmurs comforting words.

Reaching into his sleeve, he pulls out a ridiculously long handkerchief, prompting some weak laughter from you despite your tears.

"You've been doing that corny ass joke since we were kids," you sniffle, gingerly wiping your nose before he tosses the hanky into the wastebasket.

"Yeah, well, it still gets a laugh outta ya, so I'ma keep on with it," Buggy replies with a soft smile. He gazes down at you with those piercing eyes of his, scanning your face with a mixture of concern and affection.

Buggy lets out another exasperated sigh, his frustration evident but tempered by genuine worry. "Look, muneca-chan, I get it," he says, his voice gentler now. "Love can make you do crazy things, feel crazy things. But you need to be careful. Mihawk... he's a complicated guy. He's got a lot of walls up, and he's not exactly known for being... well, open-hearted. I know you guys are friends and I was shocked he let you stay with him. But love is a whole different ball game."

You nod, feeling a bit more grounded by his words and presence. "I know he's complicated, Buggy," you say, your voice steadier now. "But I can't help how I feel. I just needed to tell someone, to get it off my chest."

Buggy holds you a little tighter, his grip reassuring. "Well, you've told me now, and we'll figure this out together," he promises. "Just don't go making any rash decisions, okay? Take your time, think things through. And remember, no matter what happens, you've got me in your corner."

His words, laced with both caution and encouragement, bring a small but genuine smile to your face. "Thank you, Buggy," you whisper, leaning into his embrace. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Anytime, starshine," he replies softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "We'll get through this, one step at a time." He wipes the tears from your face with his warm thumbs, "But promise me you'll be careful, okay? I don't want to see you get hurt."

You can see the genuine concern in Buggy's eyes, and it touches your heart. Despite his gruff exterior, you know that he cares deeply for you, and his protective instincts are kicking in full force.

You nod, grateful for his understanding. "I just don't know what to do," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I'm torn between staying here and following my heart."

Buggy places a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. "Listen to me, sis," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "You can't let fear hold you back from pursuing what makes you happy. If you have feelings for Mihawk, then you owe it to yourself to explore them, regardless of the outcome." Your eyes glance over his right pec, knowing what picture was hidden inside that pocket. 

"But here's the thing about love, [Name]. It's not always easy to understand, and it's certainly not always convenient. But when you find someone who makes your heart skip a beat, someone who makes you feel alive in a way you've never felt before, well, you'd be a fool not to hold onto that with both hands."

Buggy's gaze softens, his features morphing into a look of genuine empathy. "Love is a complicated thing," he murmurs, his voice filled with compassion. "But if Mihawk is the one who holds your heart, then you owe it to yourself to pursue those feelings."

He gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his friendship and loyalty. "You'll figure it out, sis," he says, his voice filled with confidence. "And remember, I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

His words struck a chord deep within you, resonating with the turmoil of emotions that had been swirling inside you since Mihawk's departure. Suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place, the confusion and uncertainty giving way to a newfound clarity. Buggy gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

"Anytime, [Name]," he replies, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

You nod, grateful for Buggy's understanding and support. "Thank you, Buggy," you whisper softly , a sense of gratitude flooding your heart. "I needed to hear that."

As you stand wrapped in Buggy's embrace, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. His arms are strong and comforting, a reminder of the unwavering bond you share. But as he pulls back, a toothy grin spreads across his face, and you catch a glimpse of a familiar, sinister gleam in his eyes.

"And if he fucks up," Buggy says, his voice low and menacing, "there's gonna be one less Warlord in the sea."

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but chuckle nervously. Buggy's expression is a mix of protective determination and a hint of madness that you've come to recognize over the years. His blue curls frame his face, giving him an almost theatrical appearance, but you know better than to underestimate the seriousness behind his words.

His gaze sharpens, and for a moment, the room seems to grow darker as he continues. "I mean it, muneca-chan. Mihawk might be a badass with that big-ass sword of his, but he's no match for my flashy tricks. One wrong move, and I'll make sure he regrets it."

Buggy's eyes glint with a dangerous intensity, and you can tell that his big-brother instincts are in overdrive. Despite his eccentricities, you know that he would go to great lengths to ensure your happiness and safety. You reach out to place a hand on his arm, squeezing gently to remind him that you appreciate his concern.

"I know you would, Buggy," you say softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that. I just needed to talk to someone who understands."

Buggy's expression softens at your words, the sinister edge fading as he looks at you with genuine affection. "Yeah, yeah," he mutters, rolling his eyes playfully. "Just remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what."

With that, he pulls you into another tight hug, his embrace warm and reassuring. You know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll always have Buggy by your side, ready to offer his unwavering support and friendship—even if it means taking on a Warlord of the sea.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably live a very boring and un-flashy life."

"Oh no~, what a nightmare, HEY!"

He flashed you a smile as you held your recently pinched side. 

"Now, let's get you set up to spend the night. We've got a lot to catch up on." 

______________________________________________________________

And that wraps up chapter 4 of this series. Oh I am going to make you all work for 'that' delicious chapter.~

Part 5 is now posted.

At the time of this being posted, 5/19/2024, there is a poll ongoing for what, you, the lovely readers, would love to be called. Be sure to cast your votes!!

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. Everything I have posted here is there in chronological order. I also have a few Buggy the Clown x Reader's posted in the masterlist! Give it a read if you please!

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Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33