Could I Get 3: Accidental Groping Or 5: Fake Out Make Out With Cassian Andor?

Could I get 3: Accidental groping or 5: Fake out make out with Cassian Andor?

dont ask abt how bad i want this to be me rn

You weren’t thinking straight when Cassian pulled you into a spare room at this brothel on Correllia. All you were thinking of was the intel and escape. Anything to make that happen. It wasn’t long after the data was secured that storm troopers were invading the building. Clearly, someone had triggered some kind of alarm, and as people not participating in the activities of the building, you stuck out like a sore thumb. You’d be arrested for sure, or as Cassian always jokes, you’d take each other out before you could let that happen.

You’re still not thinking straight when Cassian pushes you further into the room, tugging off your jacket and throwing it to the side as you bounce onto the bed in front of him. The door is shut, but none of the doors in this place lock, so you have to just hope the troopers respect privacy while clearly searching for you.

You’re definitely not thinking straight when Cassian whispers a little “sorry” before capturing your lips with his own and lowering himself down on top of you on the bed. Your mind is swimming as you kiss back immediately, all lips and tongue and teeth and Cassian groans into your mouth. The kiss is deep, with Cassian taking the lead and moving his tongue deeper as his hands plant themselves on either side of your head.

You’re not thinking when your hands come up around his waist, pulling him in closer, flush against you. Maybe its because he smells good, or maybe its because you hear hurried footsteps outside the door.

Theres a knock at the door, and Cassian reaches down to grab your leg, hooking it around his hip. You moan, but you’re not sure if you meant to.

The door opens, and his hand slides down your thigh.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” a slightly modified voice interrupts your kiss, and Cassian only rips his mouth from yours long enough to shout.

“Get out!” his voice is hoarse, husky, and you can feel heat flooding you. He turns back to you the second the door slides closed again, and his hand slips farther.

The second his hand connects with the curve of your ass however, he freezes.

And now you’re thinking straight. He looks cute like this, flustered and blushing, wide eyed and looking down at you

“I-I’m sorr-“ but you cut him off before he can apologize.

“Don’t be.”

And as you pull him back in for another kiss, he squeezes your ass, hard. On purpose this time.

Consider Us Even

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X GN!Reader Word count: 3100± Warning: Profanity Summary: He owed you a date. He's paying it. [Part 2 of You're Gonna Owe Me for This]

It was more or less three months after Simon decided that he owed you a date that he finally went home. At some point, you were worried that something had happened to him during his leave, but when it was to the point where you were about to text him, you saw him about to enter his flat upon your own arrival at yours.

Simon did not see you, but you were at least glad that he came back alive. Who could even imagine what he went through in his work the last three months?

The next day, just as you were about to leave your flat, you found Simon waiting in the hallway across your door. He did not look different. Well, of course, that was what you saw because who knew what was behind the mask? He could have been piercing his cheek with a chopstick since the last time you saw each other for all you knew.

“Mornin’,” Simon greeted.

“Morning to you, too,” you replied. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Half an hour,” Simon answered. “I knocked.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you blurted. “I didn’t hear. I must’ve been in the shower.”

“I figured,” Simon said.

“I mean, you could just text me,” you gave him an apologetic smile.

“Anyway,” Simon moved on, “are you free next Saturday?”

“Next Saturday?” you paused, thinking of a way to mess with him. “Ah, I already have a date on Saturday.”

Simon froze for a second.

“That’s… unfortunate,” Simon said, he sounded so disappointed.

Feeling bad, you ended up letting out an amused chunk of air out of your nostrils.

“I’m fucking with you,” you admitted. “Yeah, I have a clear schedule next Saturday.”

Still, Simon took a moment to judge your statement.

“Alright,” Simon sighed. “Say, next Saturday’s raining because the weather here is shit… you’re still down to go?”

“Do you want me in a raincoat and boots?” you asked.

“Only if they’re goth,” Simon answered.

You chuckled, clocking the slight shift in his eyes that was probably the closest thing you had seen him getting amused.

“Noted, sir,” you, very stiffly, saluted him.

Simon sighed in disbelief.

“See you Saturday, yeah?” Simon concluded. “Late afternoon?”

“Sure. See you then, too,” you nodded.

Then, Saturday came.

No, you definitely did not plan your outfit. Definitely not. Just like Simon definitely did not.

Simon was contemplating, staring at his masks, wondering which he should be wearing. There was skull mask #1, then there was the backup skull mask, then the backup backup skull mask, and at least skull masks #2 through #6.

He ended up picking the one you patched up. Sometimes he could feel your stitches on his lips and for some reason that made this mask his favourite.

You dressed accordingly, but made sure you would look nice at the end of the day because who knew what would happen by then. Again, Simon happened to be your neighbour and he might have known what you look like on laundry day. No one looked good on laundry day and you were just the exception sometimes.

Then, finally, he knocked on your door. You made sure to hear it this time because you were waiting.

Simon, upon seeing you, took a moment. Honestly, you were expecting a compliment, but then you realised that he might not be the type to do so. Until he did. Kind of.

“You look different,” he said.

“Well, I put quite an effort into it,” you admitted.

“Looks great,” Simon added.

“Thank you,” you said. “You, too. I guess. I don’t know what you look like.”

“And you never will,” Simon stated.

“What?” was all you could say.

“You’re ready to go?” Simon asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Are you?”

Simon slightly tilted his head aside, but said, “I think so.”

With that, the two of you made your way out of the flat building. You just followed him wherever he led you. There were hardly any words exchanged as you walked.

Simon turned out to be the sweetest yet gentlest person, contrary to what he looked like. He kindly opened a few doors for you. When you were out on the street, he walked on the outer side and weaved you through people.

Not long from your leave, Simon brought you into a store with a bunch of fruits displayed upfront. You were passing a row of grapes when Simon broke the ice.

“I don’t think we’re allowed to buy one singular date, so I’m just gonna ask you how much do you want? 100 grams? A kilo?” Simon asked.

“Excuse me?” you replied just as Simon stopped walking in front of a variety of date fruits.

“There’s these smaller ones, they’re pretty sweet. Then, there’s this—”

You cut him off with a chuckle full of disbelief. In response, Simon only looked at you. He looked serious.

Was he serious? He might be. What if he was? You could not get a read of him and you started getting nervous that he might actually be serious.

“So, how much? Which one?” Simon continued. “There’s some dipped in chocolate, some with nuts. Or maybe you’d like the syrup instead. They also have date infused milk.”

Eyes slightly widened, you raised an eyebrow whilst looking at him. Still, Simon only looked at you without any readable expression seen in his eyes.

That lasted for sometime.

“I’m fucking with you,” Simon admitted.

Now you were the one who only looked at him.

“Consider us even,” Simon said.

“So, you dragged me into this store just for a lame joke?” you concluded.

“I thought you’d like it,” Simon reasoned

“I adore your commitment,” you smiled.

“If you want them, I’ll get you some,” Simon said.

You chuckled, “No, thank you.”

“Alright. Let’s get a move on, then,” Simon stated.

The two of you started walking out the store.

“Where are we going?” you finally asked.

“There’s this place my friend recommended. It shouldn’t be that far ahead,” Simon answered.

So, here was what happened when he arrived home a few days ago. Simon was mentally breaking every piece of furniture in his place out of frustration. He had no idea what to do.

It all started with you delivering him a cake—which plate had not he returned to you somehow—and it proceeded to him making the stupidest excuse to get you his number—which resulted in you texting him with yours—then, he decided that he owed you a date approximately three months ago.

So, Simon did what he thought he would never do.

He texted Johnny what he and his stupid (legendary) mohawk would do if they asked someone out on a date. There was a lot of teasing in the chatroom and even more threats. By the end of it, Soap had something to blackmail Ghost with and Ghost had at least half an idea on what to do to repay what he owed you.

Simon gave Johnny a broad area of where he lived and some time later, he recommended a place. By the look of it, it was a cafe. Simon considered a cafe as a safe enough place for a first date; if there would even be a second or thirteenth eventually in the future.

With so, Simon looked up where the place was and decided that he would take you there.

However, when the two of you arrived in front of said cafe, Simon had no idea what to say. He was frozen on the sidewalk, looking at the place before looking at you who were looking at him with a questioning look.

The next time Simon saw him, Soap would get kicked in the chest so hard, it would practically fillet his spine off.

“Is this the place?” you asked.

“Supposedly,” Simon answered.

“Your friend recommended this place?” you asked again, slightly a little more amused, but still intrigued.

“Yeah,” Simon breathed.

“You trust this friend?” you continued.

“With my life,” Simon said.

You could not help, but chuckle. Simon looked at you.

“If you don’t want to spend maybe an hour in a cat cafe with me, let’s just consider this friend of yours is trying to mess with you and we can go elsewhere?” you suggested.

Internally, you felt a little sorry because you now had the intention to spend maybe an hour in a cat cafe with a big, muscular man with a skull mask.

“Yeah, there’s this place—”

“Oh, my God, look at that cat, Simon,” you blurted and went straight into the place without consulting Simon any further.

Once inside, you looked back to Simon who was only still standing where he was and gave him an excited grin in hope to encourage him. That was all it took for him to actually go. Your stupid (gorgeous) smile.

About fifteen minutes in, you noticed that Simon was simply just moving every cat that went towards him by itself to the space next to him almost robotically. A few minutes after that, you realised even more that the cats seemed to be attracted towards him because they kept coming at him, but he always put them away—a useless effort.

One of the cats had black fur with a white patch on its face. This one in particular managed to climb up to Simon’s shoulder while he was putting another cat away.

You would tell him that he looked cute, but you were worried that he might actually murder you if so.

“That one looks like you,” you pointed out.

Hesitantly, Simon picked up the cat and held it in front of his face. He looked at the collar and saw the cat’s name.

“Even better, it’s got my name,” Simon informed. “Ghost.”

“Ghost?” you repeated.

“They call me Ghost,” Simon casually said before putting the cat next to him.

“Should I be calling you Ghost instead?” you asked.

“I’d rather you don’t,” Simon answered, about to move another cat, but he stopped when he looked at the cat’s collar. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Hearing that, you looked at him, wondering if there was something wrong. Maybe he wanted to leave. Maybe you should not have come here. Maybe he was very uncomfortable.

God, what had you done?

“We… don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” you said. “I just… I thought it’d be funny to actually see you around cats.”

“Oh, it’s very funny. Do you want to know what’s funny?” Simon flatly replied. “This cat also got my name.”

“Simon?” you guessed.

“Riley,” Simon stated.

“Riley,” you repeated. “That’s your—”

“Yeah,” Simon nodded. “I thought you knew.”

“I know nothing about you,” you said. “I should be terrified of you.”

There was a pause.

“Why Ghost?” you asked. “I reckon it has something to do with the mask.”

“You know, sweetheart, I owe you a date, not a story,” Simon brought up.

“People tell stories on dates,” you reasoned, hoping he did not notice how you smiled when he called you sweetheart.

Simon only looked at you for a moment.

“I don’t have a pleasant story,” Simon said. “Except if it’s about my neighbour who I ended up going on a date with.”

Scoffing a smile, you playfully shoved him by the arm. At that brief moment, you felt his arm. That reminded you that you, as weird as even just the thought of it was, had never even seen what his arm looked like.

Maybe his arms looked like the two muscular arms holding hands meme. Now, you started picturing all the possibilities of what his arms looked like. Maybe he had a tattoo, a lot of people in the military had tattoos. Maybe his tattoo had a skull on it. Maybe not.

It just seemed to be his personality in general.

“Fine,” Simon said. “What do you want to know about me? I’ll answer some, but only if you do the same.”

“Deal! I have so many questions,” you stated excitedly.

Simon held up a finger.

“Let’s wait until we’re somewhere better suited for that kind of conversation,” Simon said.

“Let’s go now, then?” you suggested.

“You were so eager to get in here earlier,” Simon recalled.

“I changed my mind,” you shrugged.

The next place you went to was an actual cafe. The one with warm and cold drinks instead of cats.

Simon placed you both in the furthest corner. He sat facing the wall while you sat across him. The nearest window was feet away. As you arrived earlier, it started raining outside.

Now, the two of you sat with your chosen beverage. Simon had brought his to his lips, but you stopped him by holding his wrist.

Simon looked at your hand for a moment before looking up at you.

“You still have your mask on,” you pointed out.

“Fuck, right,” Simon realised.

Carefully, you removed your hand from his wrist. However, Simon did the exact same thing again without taking his mask off, but you quickly stopped him again by putting your hand on his wrist again.

“Fucking ridiculous,” Simon realised, shaking his head lightly.

You chuckled.

This time, Simon lifted his mask up to his nose, holding it with his thumb, before taking a sip.

At this point, you could see the scruff of a beard that he had, a couple of scars, the tip of his nose, and his lips. His lips would probably be the only thing you thought of for at least the next two weeks.

As soon as Simon lowered back his mask, you looked down at your cup.

“You know, most people just watch and let me wet my pants,” Simon brought up.

“That’s just mean,” you commented.

“My friend, especially, thinks it’s funny,” Simon added.

“The same one who recommended you that place earlier?” you guessed, lighty smiling at him.

“That exact one,” Simon confirmed. “Uh… soap.”

“Soap?” you repeated.

“People call him Soap,” Simon said.

“What the hell kind of name is Soap? Is it an inside joke?” you asked.

“Not exactly, no. It’s not that pleasant of a story either,” Simon answered. “You see, he’s good at cleaning houses.”

“With… guns?” you continued.

Simon gave you a nod.

“I guess that makes sense,” you said.

Filling the next seconds, the two of you sipped your drink. Simon remembered to lift his mask this time and you could not help but glanced over.

God, you really should not be doing that. What if he really did not want you to see his face?

Simon also accidentally pulled his dog tag when he pulled his mask this time. He let the metal hang in between his pecs. Just looking at that, you felt quite flustered and immediately looked away.

“You know, you can maybe add a zipper to your mask,” you said. “You can maybe add it, like… make it a flap. Like a door.”

“That might actually be a good idea,” Simon said. “That ought to solve most of my problems, but… I tried and it ruined the shape of the mask. Then, if so, I wouldn’t have to bother my neighbour in the middle of the night and ask said neighbour to help me fix my mask.”

“I mean, you can bother your neighbour any time you want, any way possible,” you said.

“How am I supposed to owe my neighbour a date, then?” Simon questioned.

“You could ask your neighbour on a date,” you replied.

“Interesting concept,” Simon nodded.

You chuckled.

There was a little gap in between you two.

“So, are you in the Royal Marine?” you continued. “You seem like one.”

“No. I’m in the Royal Army. Exactly, I’m a… lieutenant in the Special Air Service,” Simon answered.

“What the fuck?” you muttered. “Isn’t that like… super important?”

Simon let out one amused scoff.

“Is that why you wear the mask?” you asked despite not finding the sense in your question.

“The thing is, as long as I’m not a civilian, the mask stays,” Simon explained.

“Are there exceptions?” you continued.

“Jesus, you do have a lot of questions, don’t you?” Simon sighed.

You pouted a little.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“No, it’s alright. You look cute when you’re curious,” Simon stated.

If you were not visibly flustered before, you were now.

That was the start of a very pleasant conversation between you two actually getting to know each other. Simon did not say much about himself, but he was very interested in you. He listened to every single word you said as if it was a need-to-know on a mission.

Although Simon was reluctant to take you to eat dinner outside due to the mask situation, he did take you to a restaurant and ordered food to be taken away for the two of you before you two made your way back to your flats.

It was a long walk. Way longer than when you two left the building earlier this aftertoon. At some point as you walked, Simon dared to put his hand on the small of your back.

Honestly, who would have known that this very intimidating looking person could be so kind and sweet? He was also funny, too. In his own way. He turned out to be one of the most interesting people you had known and you knew him a little better than most people.

In addition, you might have gained the ability to read him a little better and thus enhanced your ability to read other people who were easier to read compared to him.

Wishing the day was not over so soon was not an exaggeration. Simon planted a desire in your heart simply to just take care of him. Maybe ironing his uniform or making sure his mask was straight or brewing him some tea, maybe even tuck him to sleep and washed his face off the warpaint he used around his eyes.

Unfortunately, you soon arrived in your flat building. The two of you eventually got into the lift and out of it.

Simon stopped in front of your door with you.

“Thank you for taking me out today, Simon. I really had fun,” you said.

“We’re even then, yeah?” Simon asked.

“I guess so,” you answered. “However, I will be disappointed if you stop annoying me.”

“Don’t tempt me, I might borrow every single piece of hardware that you have and return none of them until you knock on my door and wonder where your vacuum cleaner is,” Simon replied.

“Just don’t ghost me,” you proudly smiled, flicking your eyebrows.

Simon only looked at you, there was half of an approval in his eyes.

“I’ll see you around,” Simon said as he stepped back.

“Wait,” you called.

Simon stopped on his tracks.

You kissed the tips of your fingers before pressing them on the mouth area of his mask. The next three seconds felt like three hours where Simon only stared into your eyes, stunned. You only gave him a smile.

Your smile seemed to slap him back into the moment.

“You’re gonna owe me for that,” Simon stated.

“Oh, fuck you,” you chuckled.

Here's part 3

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slapmewithacroc

4 months ago

Ngl the way I was reading this as a joke but now I’m HOOKED!!? This was so cute and sad at the same time omg I love itttt

Momentary Bliss

Summary: Luigi Mangione. Star student. Travel enthusiast. Alleged murderer. Hero of the people. For a fleeting moment he was more than that…he was yours.

A/N: fluff/angst fic abt a whirlwind romance luigi has with reader. WC is 7.4k so get comfy

Luigi sits in his seat, leg anxiously bouncing as he checks his watch for what feels like the millionth time. The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off. Now he just feels anxious. Anxious to leave this city behind and put as many miles as he can between him and New York.

He fidgets his jacket and releases a shaky breath.

“Hey, do you mind turning on the A.C.?” He calls out to the driver.

The bus driver looks in the rear view mirror and huffs when he sees who called out to him.

“Why don’t you try taking off your jacket first, pal?” He asks, before pulling his gaze away, continuing to look over the scheduled stops.

Luigi leans his head against the headrest of his seat and sighs. He feels much too hot with his face mask. And all the layers he’s wearing aren't exactly helping ease his sudden claustrophobia, but they’re a necessary evil. He has to stay covered, stay hidden until he’s far enough away to not be recognized. He breathes a sigh of relief when the driver finally puts the map down, checking his mirrors one last time before switching his turn signal on.

The bus has only just started to pull away from the curb when someone yells out.

“Hey! Wait!”

Luigi rolls his eyes as the bus comes to a stop, the doors opening a moment later.

“Oh my god, thank you so much.” You sigh as you climb the steps.

“Need to store anything under the bus?” The driver asks, scanning your ticket before handing it back to you.

“Nope.” You shake your head, holding up a small duffle bag with a smile. “Traveling light.”

The bus driver nods, closing the door again and turning to look out his side mirror.

“Jus’ grab any open seat.” He instructs.

You scan the bus, weighing your options of who would be the best person to sit beside. Luigi had curiously looked up when the doors opened, wanting to see who got on; however his mistake was that he didn’t look away. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he ended up locking eyes with you, but he still found himself letting out a startled gasp. You smile kindly and Luigi immediately looks away, fidgeting with his sleeves.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. So much for trying not to draw attention to himself.

You maneuver your way down the narrow passage, murmuring “‘scuse me” and “sorry” to the already settled passengers with a sheepish grin. Finally, you come to a stop beside a young man sitting on the aisle seat with the hood of his jacket up- covering his head.

“Excuse me,” You call softly. “Is it alright if I sit with you?”

Luigi’s fidgeting stops at the sound of your voice. He quickly considers his options before eventually deciding it’d be best for him to keep his aisle seat. After all, if he were to sit by the window, he’d be putting himself at risk of being spotted by anyone that happens to pull up alongside the bus.

Wordlessly, Luigi stands from his seat, avoiding your gaze as he does. He sneaks a quick glance at you when he hears you gasp softly, worried that you’ve found him out already.

“You’re letting me have the window seat?” You ask excitedly, smiling brightly at him before shuffling into the aisle and plopping down into the cushy chair. “Thanks!”

Luigi clears his throat before awkwardly nodding his head as he sits back down. You turn your body to face him again and Luigi tenses.

“I’m Y/N by the way.” You say before looking at Luigi expectantly.

He continues to stare straight ahead, doing everything in his power to avoid your curious gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders slump and finds himself feeling guilty.

“Mark.” He finally grumbles.

“Mm?” You hum, perking your head up at the sound of his baritone voice.

“My name…” He clarifies, still looking straight ahead. “It’s Mark…”

“Mark…” You repeat before beaming at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Again, Luigi chooses to silently nod his head.

Taking the hint that he wasn’t in the mood to talk, you turn your head to look out the window, though you know there won’t be much of a view since it’s a little past eight o’clock in the evening.

You’ve only made it a few blocks away from the bus station when you call out to the driver.

“Excuse me, sir? Would it be possible to turn on the air please?” You ask, craning your head in an effort to be seen over the rows of seats in front of you.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” The driver calls back, messing with the controls.

Immediately after, a cool breeze starts circulating the bus. You lean back in your seat with a content sigh.

“Oh, that’s much better.” You mumble to yourself, turning back to gaze out the window.

Luigi sneaks a glance at you, quickly taking in your delicate features before looking away. He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. For the first time today, the weight on his chest feels lighter and he doesn’t feel as if he’s struggling to breathe. He doesn’t know if you’re the reason or if it’s due to the air conditioning finally being turned on. He doesn’t care to dwell on it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The bus had only been on the road for a little over an hour when Luigi started shuffling around; moving this way and that in his seat and groaning in discomfort. The bus drives over a pothole and Luigi grunts, holding onto the seat in front of him to brace himself.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask cautiously, not wanting to overstep.

“Fine.” He grumbles through clenched teeth.

The bus goes over another pothole and this time he takes a shaky breath.

“Okay, you’re obviously not fine.” You argue, setting your phone down. “What is it? Are you getting car sick?”

Luigi shakes his head. You notice how uncomfortable he looks, almost as if he’s in pain and a lightbulb goes off in your head.

“Do you need a pillow to sit on?” You ask softly.

He looks at you with complete confusion on his features- which aren’t much to go off considering he still has his face mask and hood on. But judging by the furrow of his brows, you can only assume.

“For your hemorrhoids.” You whisper with a nod.

Luigi’s so caught off guard by the whole thing that he can’t help but let out a shocked laugh.

“I don’t have hemorrhoids.” He tells you with a shake of his head.

“Oh.”

“I have- back pain.” He admits reluctantly.

“Oh?”

“Horrible back pain.” He continues. “It’s been going on for years.”

You frown sympathetically at the news before remembering something you haphazardly threw in your bag earlier when packing. You grab your duffle bag from the floor, undoing the zipper and blindly rummaging through it until you hear the distinct crinkle of plastic packaging. You pull out the package, hesitating for only a moment before holding it out to him.

“Do you want this?” You ask shyly, worried you’re overstepping.

“…What is it?” Luigi asks skeptically.

“Heat pack. It helps when I get cramps,” You shrug. “I thought maybe…”

Luigi eyes the package and reads the label.

Hot Hands. Stick-on Body Warmer. Up to 12 hours of heat.

“Yeah…” He nods slowly. “Yeah, I’ll take it. But only if you’re sure-“

“Back pain’s a bitch; go crazy.” You assure.

Luigi takes the package from you and starts opening it while you set your duffel bag back on the floor. He places the patch on his lower back and settles into his seat. Within seconds it starts heating up. Judging by the relieved sigh he lets out, you can only assume that it’s working.

“So where ya going?” You ask him curiously.

“Not sure yet.” He answers cryptically. “Right now I’m just tryna get out of New York.”

You nod your head. He isn’t sure if it’s in agreement or acknowledgment.

“You?” Luigi asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. He’s gathered by now that you’re a bit of a chatterbox. He figures it’d be best to give vague answers and redirect the attention to you rather than just sit silently. From what he’s seen, you’re more than happy to do most of the talking.

“Ideally, California. Realistically, as far as I can make it.” You tell him with a small grin.

“What’s in California?” He asks curiously.

“What isn’t in California?” You ask in return. “There’s beaches, amusement parks, museums.” You list before staring off dreamily. “And L.A. is always like a perfect 70 degrees.”

“Florida has beaches and amusement parks too.” Luigi comments casually. “And it’s a shorter trip. Why don’t you go there?”

“Do I look ninety to you?” You ask with an offended frown. “Aside from grandmas freshly retired, I don’t think anyone willingly moves to Florida.”

Luigi chuckles and nods his head in agreement.

“Fair enough. But why go all the way to California?” He asks. “I mean, I’m sure there are other states that are much closer and have the same attractions.”

“Well sure. But California is quite literally on the other side of the country. I’m trying to get as far away from New York as I possibly can.”

“Hawaii?” Luigi offers with a grin, fondly remembering his time there.

“Too far.” You immediately shake your head.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re running from something?” Luigi asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“I could say the same thing about you.” You fire back, almost defensive with how fast you answer him. Beside you, Luigi tenses. “And everyone else on this bus.” You add. Meanwhile, he releases the breath he had been holding. “I mean, you gotta admit it’s kinda sus.”

“But on the other hand,” You continue, less talking to him and more thinking out loud at this point. “Boarding a cheap bus that’ll drive all through the night while you sleep? Grade A traveling if you ask me.”

“Excellent point.” Luigi nods, thoroughly amused with your rambling. “Touché.”

You smile victoriously at him before turning back around and looking out the window. After a few minutes, you sink lower into your seat, getting more comfortable. Sensing that you’re done bothering him with mindless questions, at least for now, Luigi tries to get some rest. He sits back in his seat and crosses his arms before shutting his eyes.

Luigi’s just on the brink of falling asleep when he feels a sudden weight land on his left shoulder. He’s immediately on alert, opening his eyes and whipping his head to the side. He relaxes when he sees that there’s no threat, it’s just you. He’s about to pull away when you let out the softest of snores.

Luigi watches you sleep for a moment, taking in the serene look on your face and the steady rise and fall of your chest. He smiles softly to himself before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes once more, finally falling asleep himself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The bus going over another pothole is what wakes Luigi a few hours later. He blinks his eyes slowly, trying to get his bearings. Sometime during his slumber his head dropped, coming to a rest atop yours. As soon as he realizes this, Luigi sits up, face burning in embarrassment.

Clearing his throat, Luigi looks down at you and notices that you’re still fast asleep with your head still resting on his shoulder. However now your arms are wrapped around his left one, hugging his appendage close to you, as if you’re worried he’d escape. He chuckles softly to himself, letting you sleep for a few more minutes.

Once the driver announces they’re a few minutes away from the station, Luigi decides to wake you. He shakes your shoulder gently and you stir slightly, frowning in annoyance before burying your face against his arm. Luigi rolls his eyes and huffs before shaking you a bit more firmly.

“Y/N.” He calls, continuing to shake you. “Come on. It’s time to wake up. We’ll be pulling into the station soon.”

Finally, you pick your head up, taking a deep breath and blinking sleepily as you look around.

“Mm?” You hum, trying to make out where you are.

You turn your gaze back to Luigi and smile sleepily at him. Before he knows what he’s doing, he finds himself smiling back.

“We’re almost at the station.” He repeats.

You nod your head, bringing a hand up to rub your eye. You see that your other arm is still wrapped around his and freeze, eyes widening before you quickly pull away.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, covering your mouth in horror.

“It’s fine.” Luigi shrugs. “As long as you were able to get some rest.”

Seeing that he isn’t upset, you slowly put your hands down.

“Wow… Sweet and handsome. I fear you may be just my type.” You comment playfully.

Luigi raises his brows as he looks at you, hoping his mask hides how his face has gone red.

“What makes you think I’m handsome?” He asks, readjusting his hood.

“Mainly personal preference.” You shrug nonchalantly. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for brown eyes.” You tell him, placing your hand under your chin and batting your eyelashes at him.

Luigi shakes his head, letting out an amused huff. Luckily for him, the bus station becomes visible and you drop the conversation, pulling your phone out as you try to figure out what your next step will be.

As soon as the bus parks, everyone gets off and goes their respective ways. Some go wait for a different bus, others have people waiting for them, a few go get something to eat.

You scan the bus station before spotting a sign that lets you know you’re at the Newark station in New Jersey. You let out a relieved smile upon realizing you successfully managed to make it out of New York and again, Luigi finds himself wondering what- or who- you’re running from.

“So where you going next?” You ask, looking up at Luigi curiously.

“I’m not sure yet.” He comments. He has a few different options. Columbus, D.C., Richmond. “You?”

“Pennsylvania.” You tell him with a firm nod. “Think I’ll be able to catch a flight to L.A. from Altoona.”

“Altoona?” He repeats with furrowed brows. “Wouldn’t Pittsburgh be cheaper?”

“Yes.” You nod. “It would be. $139 cheaper to be exact. But Altoona is a smaller airport. Less people.”

“What are you running from?” Luigi asks again, words coming out before he can stop himself.

The playful smile you had disappears and Luigi mentally scolds himself for being the reason. You look over your shoulder at the information desk before turning back to Luigi, your smile more reserved.

“I should go…” You say solemnly, pointing over your shoulder. “Get my ticket before they get busier…”

Luigi looks over your shoulder and notices the line of people before nodding his head.

“Yeah… That’s a good idea…” He agrees, fidgeting with sleeves again.

“Bye Mark.” You smile, taking a small step away from him. “I hope you make it to wherever you’re going.”

“Yeah. You too.” Luigi nods.

He watches you take a few steps before calling out to you.

“Luigi.”

“Huh?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him with a confused frown.

“Call me Luigi.” He says, taking in a shaky breath as you continue to stare at him.

“You gave me a fake name.” You realize, narrowing your eyes at him.

Luigi rubs the back of his neck awkwardly at having been called out.

“Ahh…” He stutters.

“Well now I’m not gonna use it.” You say matter-of-factly as you turn back around.

“What?” He asks with a shocked laugh.

“Bye Mark!” You call, walking away before looking over your shoulder one final time and smiling at him.

Luigi shakes his head before scanning the station, eyes zeroing in on the bathrooms and suddenly remembering how badly he has to pee.

He doesn’t see you in line when he exits the bathroom a short moment later and assumes you went to wait inside. Pulling out his phone, he sees there’s a pub and grill on the other side of the station, about a block away, and decides to head there to get some food before figuring out his next step.

When he gets to the pub, Luigi gets an order of sliders and a bottle of water to go, putting them into his backpack before heading back to the station. He’s just about to sit at one of the tables to eat when he sees you exit the building and look at your phone before turning right.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Luigi continues to watch you. You take a few steps forward before looking back down at your phone. He assumes you’re following directions but to where? You cautiously scan your surroundings before hurrying across the street. Luigi hesitates for only a moment before following after you, shaking his head at himself. Where are you going at 11 o’clock at night in a city you don’t even know? And why does he care?

You reach the intersection and run across the street when you don’t see any cars. After safely crossing the road, you pull your phone back out, checking the map once more before continuing your walk. Apparently there’s a seafood restaurant around the corner that should still be open. You aren’t the biggest fan of seafood but you’re hoping they’ll at least have some chicken tenders. Getting excited at the mere thought, you pick up the pace, hurrying around the corner only to let out a startled scream when you see a man standing there.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You apologize to the man. “You scared me.” You admit with a laugh.

“That’s alright, beautiful.” The man assures, looking you over.

“Um. Okay…bye.” You say with a nod before walking past him.

You hear him start to follow after you and don’t think anything of it at first.

“Hey, hold up. Where you going?” He asks.

You turn around, and when you see that he’s talking to you, your eyes widen. You turn back around and start walking a bit faster.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He calls.

“I’m just looking for something.” You call over your shoulder at him.

“Me too.” He says. “And I think I just found it.”

“Uhm.” You stammer, turning to face him. “I was looking for a restaurant but I think it’s closed so I’m actually just gonna go-“

“Hey, hold on.” He says, grabbing your wrist before you can walk past him. “What’s the rush?”

“Hm? Oh! There’s- there’s no rush.” You shake your head with a nervous smile. “I just- I should be getting back. I-“

“Why’re you being like this? You’re hurting my feelings.” You try to pull your wrist free and his hold gets tighter. “I’m just tryna have a friendly conversation.”

“Well, I-“

“Let her go.” Someone else calls.

You and the man both turn around at the new voice. Your shoulders drop in relief when you see Luigi standing a few feet away.

“Who’re you?” The man asks with a frown.

“Doesn’t matter.” Luigi says calmly. “Let her go.”

“Look man, we’re in the middle of a con-“

“Conversation’s over.” Luigi cuts him off, staring pointedly at the hold he still has on your wrist. “Get your hand off of her before I break it.”

The man immediately lets go of your wrist, putting his hands up as he takes a step back.

“Whatever.” The man scoffs, starting to walk away. “This bitch ain’t worth it anyway.”

Luigi takes a step forward, prepared to go after him only for you to come to a stop right in front of him, blocking his way.

“Can we go back?” You ask, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Luigi stares at the man, still considering going after him only for you to get his attention again when you call his name. Well, his fake name.

“Mark?” You say, smiling softly when Luigi looks back at you with an offended frown.

“Yeah.” He finally sighs, looking you over, making sure you’re okay before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Luigi turns around and starts making his way towards the bus station, looking over his shoulder occasionally to make sure you’re still following him. After the third time, you fall into step beside him and grab onto his jacket sleeve. Luigi looks over his shoulder at you and you look up at him with a shy smile, silently asking if it’s okay. He doesn’t say anything about it, but he does let you keep holding onto him. He waits until you’re safely back at the station before scolding you.

“The hell were you thinking?” He asks, the moment you reach a table.

“What do you mean?” You ask, taking a seat and setting your bag down next to you.

Luigi mumbles to himself in Italian before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Dolcezza, you are a beautiful, unaccompanied woman in a strange city, at night.” He lists. “You should know better than going off on your own.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask.

Luigi takes such a deep breath that you think he’s gonna inhale his face mask.

“I don’t think you thought this through.” Luigi comments.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not too late. You can still turn around and go back.”

“What the hell? I’m not going back to New York because of one minor hiccup.” You scoff.

“Minor hiccup?” Luigi repeats. “You’ve been here for all of thirty minutes and you already had a run in with a scary man-“

“News flash, asshole. There are scary men everywhere.” You tell him harshly. “Why do you think I left?”

Luigi freezes at the news. So he was right. You are running from someone.

“You don’t have to skip town because of him.” Luigi offers. “You can go to the-“

“The cops?” You cut him off. “Yeah. Lot of good that does. All I got was a piece of paper saying he can’t come within 100 yards of me which does jack shit, by the way, considering the fact that he was still stalking me at all hours of the day.”

Luigi doesn’t have anything to say to that. And you don’t blame him.

“I was going to a restaurant, okay?” You tell him. “It was right around the corner, I thought I’d be fine. Obviously I didn’t know I was gonna run into anyone on my way there… I was just hungry…”

Luigi runs a hand down his face and lets out a sigh. He feels like such a dick right now. Grumbling to himself, he takes off his backpack and undoes the zipper, reaching in and placing the bag of sliders on the table. You look from the bag to Luigi in confusion, only for him to set his bottle of water down as well.

“Eat.” He orders, zipping his backpack up.

“… What about you?” You ask softly.

“I’m going to take a walk.” He sighs.

Luigi ends up buying himself some snacks from the vending machine before returning to the table.

“I thought I told you to eat.” He comments, frowning when he sees there’s still two sliders on the table.

“I did.” You nod. “These are yours.”

As soon as he sits down, you slide the food towards him with a grin. Luigi looks between the sliders and you before nodding his head.

“Thanks.” He says, reaching for a slider and unwrapping one.

“I should be the one thanking you.” You murmur sheepishly.

“Don’t.” Luigi cuts you off. “I’m no hero.”

Luigi pushes his hood back and takes off his mask and you finally get to see his face. You take in all his features; his thick brows and hypnotizing brown eyes, his plump lips, and strong jawline.

“What?” Luigi asks, crumpling the wrapper into a ball and reaching for the last slider.

“I was right.” You sigh dreamily, resting your head on your hand as you smile at him. “You are handsome.”

Luigi huffs in amusement, though you don’t miss the pink dusting his cheeks.

“What’s dolcezza?” You ask curiously.

“It’s Italian.”

“You know italian?”

Luigi nods his head.

“Cool. What does it mean?” You continue to pry.

Luigi stares at you for a moment before finally telling you.

“Headache.” He says, taking another bite.

Your shoulders slump and Luigi snickers.

“Does it really?” You ask after a moment, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Mm-hmm.” He nods. “Headache. Nuisance. A pain.”

“I don’t believe you.” You tell him, pulling out your phone. “I’m gonna look it up. How do you spell it?”

“Mm-mm.” He shrugs.

“You just said you know Italian! All of a sudden you don’t know?”

Luigi smiles smugly at you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“That’s it. Give it back.” You order, reaching for what’s left of his slider. “You don’t deserve it.”

“You gave it to me.” Luigi argues, leaning back in his seat so that you don’t reach him.

“You gave it to me first!”

Luigi shoves the last bite into his mouth and grins at you.

“You’re horrible.” You tell him simply before checking your phone for the time.

“Well, I’d say this has been fun, but it hasn’t.” You tease, standing up and grabbing your bag.

“Be careful.” Luigi warns, watching as you gather your belongings.

“Bye Mark.” You reply teasingly, turning around and making your way towards the next bus you’ll be riding.

After getting your ticket scanned, you board the bus, settling into a window seat and placing your duffle bag on the ground. You still have at least fifteen minutes before it's scheduled to depart, so you pull out your phone and start playing a game to pass the time.

Slowly, more and more people start to board, though you don’t pay them any mind. The driver is just about to close the door when one final person steps on.

“Cutting it pretty close, pal.” He complains before finally closing the door.

The man doesn’t say anything, just gets his ticket scanned and starts making his way down the rows of seats. You only look up when someone sits next to you. You gasp when you look to your right and see Luigi settling into the seat beside you.

“This seat taken?” He asks, knowing very well that it isn’t.

“What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly. “I thought you didn’t know where you were going next?”

“Yeah, I thought so too.” Luigi shrugs bashfully, face mask and hood back on. “But I think I just figured it out.”

Luigi’s graced with your beaming smile as you tell him how excited you are that you’re spending the next couple of hours together. He wordlessly nods along but the truth is, he’s just as excited.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You and Luigi spent the last couple hours talking. Well, you did most of the talking, Luigi mainly listened. He learned that you studied business in college but got burnt out after a few years. Now, you’re content working odd jobs. You’ve worked at a pizza parlor, a library, and a boutique. You’ve been an assistant for event coordinators, a receptionist for an attorney’s office and a mail processing clerk. He learned that you’ve been no contact with your family for years and that you never got a drivers license because living in New York, you didn’t really need one. However now you’re worried you’ll look silly going to driving school at twenty six.

You managed to get some information out of Luigi as well, with a lot of poking and prodding. You learned that aside from being handsome and sweet, he’s also ridiculously smart, having graduated from an Ivy League school. You learned that he’s from Maryland and his family still lives there though he hasn’t spoken to them for a few months. He didn’t say why and you didn’t ask. You learned that he’s Italian and he does speak it and he does know what dolcezza means, however he still won’t tell you. Much to your annoyance.

Now here you are, at the Harrison bus station at five o’clock in the morning with a man you’ve known for eight hours, but can’t see yourself traveling without. You don’t know when you’ll have to go your separate ways, but you’re already getting attached to him, so you suppose you should start preparing yourself for your eventual goodbye now.

“Do you need another hot pack?” You ask Luigi as you both wait for the bus driver to come back.

“No, it’s okay. This one is still working.” He shakes his head.

“What is it? Like sciatica?” You ask curiously.

“Spondylolisthesis actually.”

“Sponda-what?” You ask.

“Spondylolisthesis.” He repeats. “It’s a spine condition. Happens when a fracture causes your vertebrae to slip out of alignment.”

“Oh my god.” You exclaim, absolutely horrified. “That sounds painful.”

“It is.” Luigi nods.

“Sorry about your back pain.” You frown sympathetically. “I’d recommend getting it looked at but you know, health insurance here is a fucking con. That’s one scam I can’t afford.”

Luigi whips his head up to look at you.

“Huh?” He asks, because surely he didn’t hear you right.

“I mean, think about it! You pay your premium every single month, even if you don’t see a doctor that month. When you do see your doctor, you have to pay a copay for the visit. And then on top of the premium and the copay, you still get billed afterwards! It’s bullshit! Not to mention all that money they get out of you only to end up denying your medication or your procedures.” You continue to rant. “I’m not gonna pay some company to make me look like an idiot. There are plenty of guys in my DM’s willing to do that for free.”

“I take it you don’t have health insurance?” He asks.

“In this economy? I think the fuck not.” You shake your head.

“So what do you do when you’re sick?” Luigi asks curiously.

“Pray.” You say simply before bursting out laughing. Luigi shakes his head, letting out an amused chuckle before clearing his throat.

“So what do you think about that CEO that-“

“Got murked?” You cut him off before waving your hand. “Man, fuck that guy.”

Luigi just sits there, silently staring at you, and you rush to finish proving your point.

“Okay, yes, murder is bad. We know that. Whatever. But you have to stop and ask yourself, how many people has he killed by denying them their medications? Or their treatment? The only difference between him and the shooter is that he does it without getting his hands dirty because he’s sitting behind a desk.”

Luigi can’t explain the warmth he feels in chest, seeing someone, seeing you be as educated and passionate as he is about everything. He’s starting to see that maybe you’re more alike than he thought. He’s finally starting to accept that maybe, you boarding his bus at the last minute wasn’t luck, but fate.

“You’re on his side, then? The shooter…” Luigi asks, wanting to be sure, needing to hear it bluntly from you.

“Oh, hell yeah.” You nod.

“But…they’re calling him dangerous on the news… A monster…” Luigi trails off.

“The news?” You ask with a roll of your eyes. “Please. Mainstream media is the worst place to get your information. They’ll spin the story whichever way they want so long as it continues to benefit the 1%.”

“Is he a murderer? Sure! Maybe. Who the fuck knows for certain.” You shrug. “But a monster?” You scoff. “He’s a human being. Just like you and me. At the end of the day, whether you’re a hero or a villain all depends on whether or not the government benefits from it.”

Luigi stares at you in complete awe.

“What?” You ask, shyly meeting his gaze.

“No. Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It’s just…you’re really something, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.” You mumble, looking away and gasping when you see the driver walking towards the bus.

“Look! The bus driver’s back! Let’s go!”

You stand from your seat and bound towards the bus while Luigi watches you with a fond smile. You turn around and frown when you see that Luigi isn’t with you. Once you spot him, you wave your hand, urging him to hurry. He stands and grabs his backpack, putting his hood and face mask back on before following after you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

When you and Luigi arrived in Altoona, more than anything you wanted to walk around and stretch your legs after spending so much time sitting. So that’s exactly what you did. You walked for about an hour before sitting down on a secluded bench in a park.

“Still don’t know where you’re going?” You ask Luigi.

“No, not really.” He shakes his head. “Why?”

You shrug your shoulders and look away but Luigi is having none of that. He gently grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger, bringing your gaze back onto him.

“You’ve been running your mouth nonstop since the moment I met you. You choose now to go quiet?” He teases, frowning the tiniest bit when you don’t laugh along with him. “What’s wrong, dolcezza?”

“I still don’t know what that means.” You whine.

“Talk to me and maybe I’ll tell you.” Luigi offers.

“I just… I don’t know. I was thinking…” You start rambling nervously. “I don’t fuck with my family and you haven’t talk to yours in a while. And we both left New York and how funny that we met when we did and we happen to get along so well, right?”

“Right…” Luigi nods.

“And okay, so I don’t really have a plan. Just a vague, loose idea of one. But I was thinking, well, more like wondering, but I didn’t really know how to bring it up in conversation. And even now, I still don’t think this is the best way to go about it but-“

“Dolcezza, please.” He sighs, begging you to just get to the point already.

“Why don’t you come to L.A. with me?” You blurt out.

Luigi’s head reels back at the question. He isn’t sure what he was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

“Or I go with you… to… wherever you’re going next.” You offer. “But let’s stay together.”

“I just- I really like you.” You mumble shyly.

“I like you too.” Luigi admits with a smile.

“You do?”

“What’s not to like?” He asks, with a fond smile. “You’re beautiful, funny, smart.” He lists before cupping your cheek with his hand. “You’re everything, sweetheart.”

You get a boost of confidence at his confession, leaning forward and placing your lips upon his in a soft, gentle kiss. Luigi responds immediately, head tilting to the side as his mouth continues to move against yours. Luigi nips at your lower lip and you let out a gasp, causing him to chuckle. You hit his shoulder playfully as he presses a final firm kiss to your lips, pulling back and gazing at you with an awestruck smile.

“Yeah.” He finally breathes, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear for you. “Let’s stay together.”

You smile excitedly at Luigi, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips before standing up, pulling him with you.

“Great! So what’s next? Where do you wanna go?” You ask, right as your stomach grumbles.

“I feel like maybe we should eat first.” Luigi teases, chuckling at your sheepish smile. “Come on, I think I saw a McDonald’s a few blocks away.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You’ve just gotten your food when it all comes crashing down. You run to the bathroom, and a moment later two older gentlemen walk in. One of them makes a passing comment to his friend about how Luigi looks like the CEO shooter as they make their way to the register. Luigi doesn’t visibly react, though from the corner of his eye he catches the cashier continuously glancing at him.

Luigi lets out a long, tired sigh as he comes to the realization that this is it. The cashier disappears and he just knows she’s calling the FBI, telling them a murderer is in her establishment. He doesn’t regret any of his actions, not in New York and definitely not when he decided to follow you. The only thing he does regret is letting himself think that he’d have more time with you. Because now reality is sinking in that while the last twelve hours have been momentary bliss, any minute now it’ll all be ripped away from him- you’ll be ripped away from him.

Luigi quickly unzips his backpack, opening the side panel that held his cash. He takes the money out before folding it up and tucking it into your duffel bag. He then grabs your McMuffin, sliding it towards himself, making it seem like he’s the only one sitting here. You come back a minute later, sliding into your seat in the booth across from him with a smile.

“I’m back.” You announce with a grin.

“I need you to do something for me.” Luigi states urgently.

The cold tone of voice causes you to look up at him in concern.

“What?”

Under the table, he slides your duffle bag to you.

“I need you to walk out of here, and not look back.” He starts.

“What?” You repeat with a confused frown.

“Keep your head down and get out of here. As far as you can.” Luigi urges. “Get on another bus, hop on a train, buy yourself a ticket to L.A. like you wanted. I don’t care but you have to go.”

“Luigi, what the hell are you talking about? I-I thought we were sticking together… what’s going on?” You question.

“I’m not who you think I am.” Luigi admits, looking away with shame.

“I don’t think you’re anyone.” You shake your head with a laugh. “I…I just think you’re you… and I like you.”

“You can’t.” Luigi stresses.

“Lu, seriously, you’re scaring me.” You tell him. “What’s going on?”

“Dolcezza, please” He begs, quickly looking out the window and checking for cop cars. “Please. You have to get out of here. You have to go.”

“But…what about you?” You ask softly, eyes starting to water at the thought of leaving him behind, especially so suddenly.

Luigi smiles, desperately wanting to reassure you, though you don’t miss that his eyes are welling up too.

“I’ll be right behind you.” He nods with a sniffle.

With your bottom lip quivering, you nod; grabbing your duffle bag from under the table and standing up. You blink and the tears you were holding back start to fall. Not wanting Luigi to see you cry, not wanting to make this harder for either of you, you quickly turn away, sniffling as you make your way towards the side door.

Once you’re outside, you put the strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder and walk across the street. Before the McDonald’s completely disappears from your line of sight, you turn around and see a swarm of cop cars in the parking lot.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“-CEO was shot early Wednesday morning outside the New York Hilton-“

Click.

“Officers then asked him for identification, and Mangione handed them a New Jersey driver's license bearing the name of a 26-year-old named Mark Rosario. Now that is the same name from a fake New Jersey ID used by a man to check into a Manhattan hostel more than a week before Thompson's killing.”

Click.

“-taken into custody at 9:14 a.m. for gun and forgery charges-“

“Man, this guy is everywhere.” Your coworker Jenny says, changing the tv to yet another channel reporting on Luigi.

“-interestingly though, during the hearing Mangione made an odd request.”

“That’s right, Diane.” The co-anchor says. “The judge allowed Mr. Mangione to receive phone calls from his family, but he didn’t want it; asking instead to send a message. Take a look.”

“Luigi,” His attorney warns. “I strongly advise against-“

“Two sentences.” Luigi barters, ignoring his attorney and looking straight at the judge. “That’s all I ask. Please.”

The judge looks towards his attorney who shrugs his shoulders, clearly just as clueless as she is.

“You can bring the message forward.” The judge tells his attorney. “I’ll decide if it’s safe to share or not.”

Luigi immediately scribbles something down on a notepad, before ripping a scrap of paper off and handing it to his attorney. The attorney reads what’s written and gives Luigi a look before approaching the bench and handing the paper to the judge.

“I wish we had more time together.” The judge reads aloud. “I’m sorry.”

“Thomas Dickey, Mangione’s attorney answered a few questions from the press; here’s what he had to say.”

“Mr. Dickey, what do you think about the note?”

“What can I say? He’s a real Casanova.” He shrugs.

“Mr. Dickey. That message has since gone viral online with many people wondering who he’s talking to. Any idea?”

“What is this a slumber party?” He asks with a chuckle. “A true gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” He says, causing the media to laugh. “I don’t know. Didn’t even know there was someone until he handed me the note. I’m just as in the dark as you are.”

“Hey, it’s pretty slow right now, do you wanna go take your break?” Jenny asks.

“Yeah,” You nod, giving her a small grin. “Sure.”

“Okay. See you in fifteen. Enjoy your break.”

You grab a pastry and a hot chocolate before heading to the break room.

You did what Luigi asked, booking yourself a plane ticket to L.A. When you got off the plane, all everyone was talking about was the CEO shooter being caught. You were shocked when you found out it was Luigi but not at all surprised to see the outpouring of support he was getting online.

The money he slipped into your bag helped you get by until you were able to get your bearings in Los Angeles. It paid for your hotel, your food, your clothes. Eventually you were able to find an affordable apartment for rent and managed to get a job at a cafe a few days later.

Through it all, you kept your head down and kept yourself busy, staying away from television and social media, if only because you weren’t strong enough to see Luigi everywhere you looked. Sitting in the break room, you open TikTok for the first time in days.

“Just when I thought he couldn’t be more perfect.” One user gushes in a video.

You swipe up, seeing what the next video is.

“So apparently this guy is the total package.” Another user says, this one a man himself. “Smart, rich, ridiculously good looking, and romantic? Oh man. I feel like I should just gift wrap my wife and hand her over at this point.” He jokes with a laugh. “I mean, he is on a whole other level.”

You chuckle before swiping up again.

Immediately the woman on your screen starts screaming.

“Bro.” She gushes. “I wish we had more time together? I’m sorry?? Hello?? I’m ughhhhh.” She groans, throwing herself onto her bed. “You can see it in his eyes. He really meant that. Whoever she is, you just know that she means so much to him. And the fact that he probably just got ripped away from her. I’m-“ she brings a pillow up to her face and lets out a blood curdling scream.

You swipe up again.

This video is different. It’s a clip of Luigi looking over his shoulder during the hearing. He looks right at the camera and it’s almost as if he’s staring right at you. The sound on the video is a loop of the judge reading his note out loud. You spend the rest of your break watching that video.

Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.

“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”

Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.

“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”

Luigi looks over his shoulder and stares at the camera.

“I wish we had more time together. I’m sorry.”

When your timer goes off, you download the video, saving it to your camera roll before heading back out.

“I wish we had more time together, too.” You sigh to yourself, grabbing a cloth to wipe down the counter.

1K notes View Post

slapmewithacroc

1 year ago

Simmer Down and Pucker Up

Kate Bishop/Reader

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After escaping a stuffy party for her mothers company, Kate show you some of her many talents.

Content: wlw,smut, cunnilingus (k!receiving) face sitting, vaginal sex (r!receiving) strap on sex, daddy kink Kate, top Kate, vaginal fingering, praise kink (both ends)

Kate bishop plays the bass because I said so

——————————————————————————

Her apartment was smaller than expected. Still huge and close to nothing you could afford, but you would’ve assumed that a girl who could seemingly buy anything In the world would have some lavish apartment.

“You can uh, set your coat down on the couch or I guess wherever you want.” Kate removed the suit jacket she was wearing and hung it up on the coat rack by the door. You followed suit and hung up your coat on the prong next to hers. She gave you a soft smile, her blue eyes meeting yours. Her cheeks were flushed a little, either it be from the winter wind that beat at her windows or the whisky she had drank at the party you had just left, you didn’t know. She looked good though.

“I’m surprised your mom let you leave that party” you looked at her as she started to loosen her tie, popping the top two buttons of her shirt and rolling up her sleeves. Kate laughed and shook her head as she rubbed her neck.

“Do you really think she knows we left? I couldn’t STAND to be there for another minute. It was just a bunch of stuffy old people talking about investments and shit.” She sat down on her couch and started working on taking the bobby pins that held her hair up out.

You couldn’t help but stare, she looked great. Something about getting her away from her mothers ever watchful gaze changed her. She smiled more, she was more relaxed.

“Maybe it would benefit you if you stuck around and listened to those stuffy old people for once. If you’re going to take over the company you’ll want to know what to do” you laughed as you took a seat next to her. You glanced up and down at her form as she put the last bobby-pin on the coffee table. Kate shrugs and turns to you.

“And be a boring CEO like my mom? No thanks, I’ve got cool things to do, like fighting crime and saving civilians” she takes the ponytail off her wrist and ties her hair up.

Your eyes glance over to the makeshift archery range next to her kitchen. Thinking about the girls that Kate has probably saved and how lucky they were to be held in her arms. You laugh a little at your own thought. Like you need to be some damsel in distress to get Kate Bishops attention. The shifting of the couch next to you pulls you from your thoughts.

“What do you say we keep the party going?” Kate wiggled her eyebrows at you as she got up, giving you a suggestive look

“And how would you suggest we go about keeping the party going?”

“I have some shitty boxed wine in my fridge”

You smiled at her, always the life of the party.

“Sounds good to me. Pour me a drink bartender Bishop!”

Kate giggles at your joke and salutes you as she slides her way into the kitchen, grabbing the handles of the fridge to keep her upright.

You continue looking around her apartment. Various posters decorated the brick walls. Some Taylor Swift posters, Abba, things a normal 22 year old would be into. Lucky’s presence seemed to be in the apartment, but the dog was absent. His bowl was next to the fridge in the kitchen, his leash hung up on the wall and toys scattered around the living room. The girl loved her dog, so it was strange that he wasn’t in the apartment.

“Where’s Lucky??” You yelled back at Kate.

“Oh he’s at Clint’s” her voice came from behind you, making you jump a bit. You hadn’t heard her come up behind you.

She hands you a wine glass filled up way too much of some cheap pink wine that smelled sweet before sitting back down next to you. Kate takes a swig of her wine and grimaces, but goes back for another one.

“Yeah Clint took him for the weekend, he knew I wasn’t going to have a lot of time to let him out, so he’s happy at the farm for the weekend” she takes another drink of her wine.

You blink a couple times at her in reference to her morbid choice of words.

“Shit no, that sounds awful. He’s not dead. He’s just…having a vacation.” Kate backtracks, realizing just how bad that also

sounded. She shakes her head and laughs a bit.

“This isn’t helping my case…it’s it?”

“No but, it’s cute watching you try to help it” you shake your head, laughing a little bit and lifting the wine glass to your lips. Kates cheeks flush more and she looks away for a second It was way too sweet, the wine, and you coughed a bit as you swallowed.

“This is AWFUL, how do you drink this” despite your words, you go back for another big sip. Kate laughs at you and takes another sip from her own glass.

“I know right?? Why do you think it’s been sitting in my fridge for so long?”

She sneaks a glance at you, waiting for your reaction.

“Kate bishop you DID NOT serve me your shitty,unwanted wine!” You punctuate your words with a hit to her arm, laughing. She shrinks away from you, taking another swig.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. But the sooner we finish this, the sooner I can buy an actually good bottle of wine and have you over again”

It was your turn to flush now, hiding your face in your almost empty glass. Kate did the same.

“Another?” You asked her, nudging her with your glass.

“As you wish” Kate gets up and takes your glass to go get more wine.

Once again you were left looking around the apartment. Every shelf was filled with Knick knacks. Various trophies, avengers merchandise, Hawkeye merch to be more specific. Her fencing gear was hung up on one wall, although it looked like it had been neglected for a bit.

Something shiny and purple catches your eye from the corner. It’s a guitar, you don’t know what kind, but it’s very pretty. Deep purple with light purple and cream accents.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people that uses musical instruments they can’t play as decor?” You tell Kate as she hands you your glass. She snorts and gestures to the guitar,

“What do you mean? My bass? Unlike the other girls you’ve been talking to, I can actually play”

So it was a bass guitar. Kate sets down her glass and goes to pick up the guitar.

“I’ve been playing since I was 12. My dad did, so I had to pick it up at some point.” Her gaze softens at the mention of her dad and she plucks at some of the strings.

“Mom hates it, says that I should be putting my time into another more useful instrument, like cello or something” she scoffs and continues to fiddle with the instrument. You watch her for a minute. Watching as her arm flexes with every pluck of a note, her eyes carefully watching her fingers.

“Show me”

“What?”

She looks up at you, her brows furrowed.

You took a swig of your drink.

“Show me how you play. I uh..want to see”

Kates eyes light up and she nearly runs over to you, guitar in hand.

You sit and watch her pluck out different notes. Watching the way her fingers move and the way the light catches on the silver rings she has on them. She has very nice hands. Slightly veiny, and you can see the callouses in her fingers from her bow and from what you can assume is her bass. You wonder what else they can do besides play the guitar and shoot deadly accurate arrows.

A few notes are played and she looks at you.

“Do you know what song this is?”

Your shake your head, right now it just sounds like the support system to a song.

“Here maybe if I plucked it out with you, you’d figure it out”

Kate takes the guitar off of her for a second and spreads her legs. Opening enough space for someone to sit in between them.You gawk for a moment, no fucking way this is happening. She pats the space, gesturing for you to come sit.

“Cmon, I don’t bite….well, not right now at least”

You set your cup down and move hesitantly between Kate’s legs.

It’s a tight squeeze, but you make it work. Kate puts the guitar back on, the butt of it resting on her knee and her chest flush behind you. .

“Put your hands, here..-“ she grabbed one of your arms and brought it to the neck of the guitar “-…and here”

Kate drapes your other arm at the bottom of the guitar

“Just don’t actually touch the strings..let me do all the hard work”

She starts the plucking again , the tune starts to become more familiar but you can’t quite put your finger on it yet. Kate leans farther over your shoulder, her dark hair brushing your cheek .Your legs squeeze together involuntarily as she looks over your shoulder. The cologne she had put on earlier in the night hitting your nostrils and making you dizzy. She’s humming as she continues to play, occasionally taking glances at you to see the gears in your head turn. She was so close, and so so warm. Your senses were on fire as you watched You both sit there in silence. Kate content with where you’re sat and you trying to figure out the puzzle that was what song she was playing. The missing piece was eventually found as she got to the chorus.

“Do I Wanna Know!!” You yelled suddenly, having the notes click in your head.

You turned to face her, beaming with pride that you had figured it out. Kate returned your smile, nodding she compliments you,

“Good girl, I knew you could do it”

Your face dropped, cheeks flushed.

She couldn’t have actually said that. Your thighs rub together again. Kate looks you up and down,

“Shit, you’re into that aren’t you?” Here eyes flick down to your lips for a moment.

When did she get that close to you? Her nose is practically brushing yours now. You squeeze your legs together again, heat growing at a rapid pace. Kate’s eyes flicker down for a moment then back to yours.

“Can you do something for me?” She bats her eyes innocently. The smudged eyeliner that rings her eyes making them pop. You don’t dare to lose eye contact as you nod your head. Kate removes the guitar from you both and resituates you so you’re perched on her thigh. She brushes a piece of hair out of your face and cups your chin. A whimper escapes your throat before you can stop it.

“Can you be my good girl and tell me what you want? Use your words for me.”

You’re frozen in your seat. Sat on Kate Bishops toned thigh, having her tell you to uses your words to get what you want . Her eyes flick down to your lips once more and then back to your eyes. It’s clear what she wants, but can you actually say what you want?

“Cmon..you can do it” Kate’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and she pouts a bit at you. Your eyes flicker shut as you take in the moment. Her nose barely grazing yours, her thumb on your lip, the smell of the stupidly sweet wine on her breath. You couldn’t tell if you were drunk on that or drunk on Kate herself. Leaning into the hand that was resting on your face, you took a deep breath and gave into your desires.

“Kiss me. Now. Please.”

She obliges you, crashing her lips into you so hard you slide off of her thigh.

“You have no idea-“ Kate starts, her hands sliding up your dress.

“How long-“ She catches her breath, and then kisses you deeply again, then pulls off once more,

“-that I have wanted to do this. That dress has been driving me crazy all night”

You laugh a little and hide your head in your arms. Your back is now on the couch, legs propped up a bit on Kate’s leg as she leans over you. Her chest is heaving and her eyes look almost black ,the crystalline blue that they normally are being overtaken by her blown out pupils.

Her hands knead at your thighs as she positions herself over you.

“Have you wanted this long?”

“Hm?”

You’re spaced out, not paying attention to her question. She looks beautiful . Pupils blown, ponytail disheveled, tie hanging crooked from her neck.

“How long have you wanted to kiss me?” You shrug. You’ve wanted to kiss her basically since you met her, but you couldn’t tell her that..could you? Your face is hot and you crave her lips on yours again, craving more of the cheap wine and lavender lip balm flavor she left on your mouth. You settle on a shrug for an answer, thinking it will curb her curiosity.

Kate grins, a sly, all knowing grin. Faster than you can process what she’s doing, she cups your clothed cunt, hard. Your body jolts and a desperate whimper claws it way from your throat . Kate looms over you, kissing her way up your neck, hand still on your cunt.

She stops when she gets close to your ear,

“So shy, cmon…tell daddy what you want”

You clench around nothing at the name she gave herself. You didn’t know she was into that kind of thing, and despite your previous thoughts on the nickname, it was stupid hot coming from Kate Bishop.

“I want…I want you”, you reach your hand up to her face, toying with her lips as your eyes search her face. Kate smiles at you, a dorky, sweet smile before leaning down and kissing you hard. You gasp into her, letting your arms wrap around her neck, Hands tangling in her ponytail. She smiles into your mouth again as her hands find your waist , pulling you back up into a sitting position. She situates you on her thigh again and gropes at you for a moment, her hand finding it’s way to your ass. You moan a bit into her mouth. Kate pulls back, panting. Her hair is pulled out of her ponytail slightly, full lips slightly swollen and kiss stained. Her cheeks are flushed as she looks down at you.

“Can I pick you up?”

“Kate what?”

She catches you off guard. You don’t think anyone has ever asked you if they can pick you up.

“I want to do something but I can’t do it here” she gestured to the couch, her fingers impatiently drumming on your hips.

“Im perfectly capable of walki-“, you yelp as Kate scoots you forward one arm wrapping your legs around her waist and the other hand scooping under your armpit and setting it over her shoulder. She stands, and you cling onto her as if your life depended on it,

“Kate bishop put me down”, she starts walking towards the stairs that lead to her loft. A playful grab at your ass makes you jump.

“Whatever daddy wants, daddy gets”

She laughs and starts up the stairs.

“Daddy?” You laugh slightly,

“Yeah baby?”

Your voice dies in your throat when she responds. You were originally going to question the nickname, but something about the way her demeanor changed made you stop. Kate gets to the top of the stairs and you nuzzle your head into her shoulder, the gravity of what your we’re going to do suddenly weighing on you. You were friends, and this would change everything. Kate presses a kiss to the side of your head before setting you down on her bed. She crawls over you, as you lean backwards eventually laying down.

“So..who gets naked first?”

You snort at her and reach for her tie, loosening it more so you can take it off.

“I hate this tie”, you throw it across the room and then start on her shirt buttons.

“ and this stupid ass shirt” you mutter as you work your way down, aggressively untucking the bottom from her pants. When you look up from untucking the shirt you’re greeted with the sight of Kate Bishops rack in your face, not that you’re complaining. It stuns you for a moment and you forget what you were doing.

Kate smiles down at you and shrugs the shirt off.

“What else do you hate?”

Your next target is her belt. You aggressively tug it open and pull it off of her.

“This belt, and these pants..I hate this whole suit”

“And whys that, pretty girl?”

Kate steps out of her pants and brings her face close to yours.

“Because,…” you grit out, looking up at her,

“Because it makes me so fucking horny….I can’t stand it”

She kisses you again. Kate bishop kisses you like it’s her last time every time. You could die kissing her and you would be content. The last thing you would taste is that disgusting wine and the lavender lip balm she insists doesn’t taste like old lady perfume. She reaches for the hem of your dress, pulling it up your body until it pools around your waist. Lithe fingers work their way around the lace of your underwear. She teases you a bit, running her fingers over your folds. You’re slightly embarrassed at your arousal, you can already hear her fingers.

“A little kissing got you this hot and bothered?? Poor thing”, her tone is sarcastic as she continues to tease you, refusing to touch your clit that’s throbbing for attention.

“Katie…” you groan, bucking your hips up.

“I know baby, I know. I haven’t been taking care of you. I’m being selfish teasing you so much” Kate practically purrs. She removes her hand from your underwear and continues taking your dress off, finally pulling it over your head.

You sit up, facing her fully.It’s your turn to kiss her now. Exchanging hot, open mouthed kisses she whines into you. Kate moves forward, sitting in your lap. She’d grinds herself down on you. You squeeze your thighs together at the noises she makes, attempting to give yourself some relief.

“Kate….” She continues kissing you, moving her way down to your neck while her hands find the clasp of your bra. She ignores your words.

“Katie….” You try again with a sweeter tone. She ignores you again, popping the clip of your bra and peeling it off your body.

You swallow your pride,

“Daddy….”

Her mouth stops working on the hickey she was sucking onto your chest. She glances up at you through thick lashes.

“Yes?”

You could cum at the sight. Kate bishop near inches from your nipple, batting her eyes at you as if she’s never done anything wrong in her life.

“Can I have more,please?”

Kate presses a kiss to your breast before sitting back up fully.

“ I love when you use your words, such a good girl”, you clench on nothing at her praise.

“But, I need you to do something for me first? Can you do that for me?”. She strokes your sides lovingly, rubbing her thumbs over your hips. You nod, willing to do anything for her.

“I’m going to sit on your face, okay? And after I finish I’m going to make you feel….really fucking good” she kisses your cheek and stands up off of you. Your mouth is salivating. You could swear you have died and gone to heaven. Kate pulls off her bra and underwear and then sits back on the bed. Without needing to be told, you lay back, ready for whatever she wants to do.

“So good for me” Kate mutters as she crawls her way up to your face. She’s soaked. Her cunt is glistening with arousal. She had been getting off of teasing you.

“Tap my thigh twice if you need a break, okay? Not that you’ll need it.” If you could see her face, it would have a shit eating grin on it, you know it would. Kate gingerly lowers herself onto you and you get your first taste of her. She moans when you experimentally lap at her, getting used to the feeling of Kates cunt pressed to your mouth.Your arms wrap around her pale thighs as you grow more confident with your motions. Licking and sucking onto her clit.

Kate bishop is responsive. You know you’re doing a good job because she begins she whine. You can’t help but wonder what she would be like if the roles were reversed.

“Fuck…fuck you’re doing so good”,

She rocks herself back and fourth, humping your face. Your cunt throbs. Her noises were so pretty. What you would give to be a fly on the wall in this room. Between Kate taking control of the pace, and your combination of licking her folds , sucking on her clit and the occasional bump your nose gives to her clit, she’s finishing in no time. With a call of your name, she finishes. Gushing all over you face, and you take it, you even welcome it.

Kate gives a last few rocks and she comes down from her orgasm. Once she’s calmed down she climbs off of you and you take a big breath. But not for long, Kate crashes her lips against yours, tasting herself on your tongue.

“You did….so so good.” She says in between breathless kisses. You kiss for a bit more, as she plays with your tits. Pinching and tweaking your nipples occasionally. Every motion has you flinching and moaning into her mouth. You begin to move your way down to her jaw, nipping and sucking marks down to her collarbone. Kate throws her head back, digging her nails into your scalp and pulling your hair. Your head gets tugged back slightly as you whine into her chest.

“Okay okay..reward time. You were so good to me” Kate releases your hair and kisses your head gingerly.

“What more could you have in store for me?” You look at her, pupils blown.

“Panties . Off. Now”, she demands. Her shift in tone catches you off guard, but you still giggle a bit.

“….pfft..panties” you laugh as you wiggle out of your underwear, tossing it to the side. Kate looks less than amused at your giggling. The archers fingers reach down to your drooling cunt to gather some slick on two of her fingers.

“In your mouth, open”

“What?”

“Suck on my fingers”

You do what you’re told, the embarrassment not being strong enough to overpower the arousal you feel. You swirl your tongue around Kate’s fingers a bit, looking up at her with doe eyes. You think about her playing the bass, and how her fingers were moving when playing the song that started this.

“Fuck don’t look at me like that” she whines at you, her dominant demeanor cracking. Once Kate decides that her fingers are throughly wet she pulls them from your mouth, giving you a quick kiss.

“How many can you start with? Let’s see”, She roughly inserts two fingers into your pussy. A needy noise escapes from your mouth as she curls them.

“Fucking hell” you pant. Kate begins to curl her fingers as she kisses you again, once again pushing you gently back into the mattress. Her thumb gently presses on your clit, rolling it so slightly. The band in your gut begins to tighten. You thrust your hips upward. Kate uses her free hand to hold you down.

“Daddy please..” you beg. You sound pathetic, whiny, needy. Kate begins scissoring her fingers while continuing the gentle rolling of your clit.

“ just a little more, and then you’ll be ready, I can’t put my cock in you without prepping you”. Kate doesn’t meet your eyes when she says this. Her eyes are locked on your entrance where she begins to pump her fingers in and out. Your eyes roll back at her words, another moan being released. Your band is tightening at a rapid pace and you don’t know how long you can last like this. Kate continues her motions, and before you finish, she pulls her fingers out.

“Kate what the hell?”

You sit up to look at her. She’s licking your arousal off of her fingers as she gets off the bed, reaching for for the table next to her bed.

“I can’t let you finish ,I’m not done yet”. There’s a smile in her voice as she digs through the top drawer. You groan a little and throw yourself back down on the bed, chest heaving . You’re about to reach down and start touching your clit in an effort to finish yourself off when the adjusting of straps catches your attention.

When you turn your head you’re greeted by Kate, a harness around her hips and a purple dick hanging between her legs. For probably the millionth time that night your breath catches in your throat. She was going to put THAT in you?

“I couldn’t just put this in you without prep, I’d hurt you.” Kate’s climbing back on the bed, kissing your face a few times.

“Fuck Kate..” you whisper as she kisses down your neck. In her wake purple marks blossom, her signature color.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you..you know that?” She mutters against your skin, licking a stripe up your neck. You whine, digging your fingers into her scalp and thrusting your hips up.

“Okay okay, easy girl” she laughs and begins to insert her strap into you. You squeeze your eyes shut. It’s thicker than anything you’ve taken before. It’s not painful, but it’s uncomfortable. Kate continues to push herself in, kissing your face and neck.

“So so good for me” she purrs. “We’re almost in, and then I’m going to make you feel so fucking good” she reiterates what she told you early. You roll your eyes, despite the uncomfortable fullness at your core.

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, you know that?” You mock Kate in reference to her use of the word fuck. She furrows her brows, looking down at you and with one quick thrust bottoms out. The nice demeanor she had before being wiped away. The smartass comment you had prepared for her died before it even got the chance to leave your mouth. A guttural, needy moan taking its place. Kate begins setting a brutal pace, not letting you adjust to the intrusion. You cling to her, arms wrapping around her neck as she continues to pound into you.

“You want to act like a brat..” she whispers into your ear, “then you’re going to get treated like one” . She punctuates her word with a particularly hard thrust, jolting you upwards. The familiar feeling of an orgasm started building in your gut.

“What happened to being my good girl, huh?” ,She nips at your ear, breathing heavily.

“Sorry daddy. I’m sorry for not being good.” The shame you had once had felt referring to her by that name was gone, you wanted a release. You didn’t actually feel bad, but you knew Kate would continue to toy with you until you apologized. Kate continues to thrust into you, your walls clenching around her strap. Your legs wrap around her waist and your nails press little red crescents into her back. You can feel her back muscles shift with every thrust of her hips. Her strap hits so far inside of you you think you might see god. Maybe god IS Kate Bishop.

“I know you’re sorry, I know” she presses a kiss to your temple, her hands groping at your tits.

“I was being mean and making fun of you”, a kiss you your lips. She slows her pace for the first time and sits up slightly. Her blue eyes scan over you, watching the bounce of your tits with each thrust, your fucked out face, hair sprawled out behind you, the bruises on you that seem to darken in front of her eyes. Her face softens as you meet her eyes.

“ you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen “, her pupils are so blown out with lust you could’ve sworn that her eyes were black. Her demeanor shifts, from the the hardass she was moments ago to a girl stricken with puppy love. Puppy love looks good on her. She continues with slow, deep thrusts into your cunt. Grabbing your hips to help meet her thrusts, she guides you.

“Feel good?” Kate checks in with you. You nod your head quickly.

“Yes, fuck Katie…feels so good”. You want to close your eyes but you’re scared to, scared to miss a moment of her concentrated face. You moan at a particularly hard thrust.

“So so pretty. So good for me” Kate mutters, you’re not sure if it’s to you or herself. Your coil begins to tighten at an alarming rate , the grand finale of the night.

“Kate…” you pant, ” I’m so close”. She smiles at you, not stopping her movements.

“Whenever you want, pretty girl”

Her words send you over the edge, and with a moan louder than expected, you cum. You cum hard, legs tensing up and locking themselves around Kate’s waist. She gives a few shallow thrusts throughout your orgasm until you’re whining for her to stop, to which she obliges. She waits a moment before she pulls out of you. You hiss at the feeling, feeling empty. Kate gently unhooks your legs from her waist, pressing a gentle kiss to your knee before standing on shaky legs to remove her harness.

Once her strap is removed she crawls back into bed with you, pulling the comforter over you both. Her arm wraps itself around your waist and pulls you close, it’s nice. She feels safe. Neither of you say anything, the only noise is your heavy breathing. It’s comfortable silence, surprisingly not awkward. After a moment you roll around to face her. Gently, you reach your hand up to her face and give her a quick kiss.

“So..” you start, searching over her face, admiring the beauty marks on her cheeks, “daddy, huh?”

Kate groans throwing her head back . She laughs slightly,

“Oh my god, shut up!”

953 notes View Post

slapmewithacroc

11 months ago

I feel like if Dean was allowed to form his own music taste independently from John winchester he'd be really into Brazilian funk

6 notes View Post

slapmewithacroc

2 years ago

HAPPY 100 FOLLOWERS!!!! Slow Down (RK900 x Reader NSFW Oneshot)

A/N: hehehehe we're at 100 followers now so i thought—hey, let's celebrate by posting something ~ s p i c y ~

Slow Down (Nines x fem!Reader)

Nines is acting weird.

You decide to figure out why.

Tags: Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Bad at Feelings, Sex Pollen (but like a virus), idk don't question it too much, Smut, Shameless Smut, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Reader-Insert, No Y/N, Semi-Public Sex

Read here or on AO3.

Something about Nines has been… off since you left the crime scene together—a WR400, ripped to pieces, in the slums of Detroit; her joints wrenched apart, wires twisted and torn; components, dozens of them—broken, modified, scattered the floorboards of an old, rotting house; thirium, pooling underneath, splattering the walls in grotesquely abstract shapes and patterns.

It had been hard to look at.

You had suggested interfacing with her—it had seemed like a good idea, at the time. You figured maybe, if there was any latent information floating around in her CPU, maybe Nines could find it.

Maybe it would help you find who did this to her.

It could be the best lead you were going to get, you’d said. And he had agreed.

But maybe that had been a mistake.

You glance over at him from the passenger seat of your car, worrying the inside of your lip between your teeth as you scan his profile.

It’s dark—nearly midnight—but the intermittent light from the passing streetlamps is more than enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the way he sits ramrod straight, fingers digging into the surface of your steering wheel. It’s more than enough to see how his his brows furrow. How they’re knitted together into a deep scowl.

He stares ahead, ignores you even though you know he knows you’re watching him, watching the LED at his temple flicker a dull yellow, cycling around and around and around. You look back down at your hands, resting awkwardly on your lap. Take a moment to pick at the non-existent dirt underneath your nails.

The moment he’d touched her—artificial skin retracted, revealing smooth white plastic and unfeeling steel—he’d recoiled, like he’d been burned.

And he’s been acting so weird since.

You clear your throat. “Hey, uh, are you—”

“I’m fine, Detective,” he says. Snaps, really.

“Right,” you murmur, shifting in your seat. You turn your head to stare out the window. Lean your forehead against the glass and let out a quiet sigh, watching as Detroit slides by in gloomy twilight, blurred by rain that streaks across the window.

You try not to think too hard about the way he’d jerked away from you when you touched his shoulder; how he’d flinched when you handed him your keys and just barely brushed his open palm.

The rest of the drive passes in stiff silence, and by the time you make it back, the station is nearly deserted, with only a few bleary-eyed humans and a handful of androids wandering the premises.

Nines is careful not to touch you when he drops your keys back into your hand. Ignores the concerned look you give him and strides towards his desk. You follow, trail after him and sag down into the squeaky swivel chair at your desk.

You chance another glance over at him, across your connected desks. You lean forward on your elbows, watching his LED, a steady amber that flashes red when your gazes meet. Just as you open your mouth to speak, he stands.

“Excuse me,” he says, swallowing thickly.

And then he’s gone.

You chew at your bottom lip again, watch him leave the bullpen and turn down the hall that leads towards the server room. You let out a frustrated breath, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper under your breath.

The guilt gnawing at you starts to grow. It flowers in the empty spaces between your ribs—it sprouts tendrils that wrap around your lungs, thorns that dig into your thudding heart.

It had been your idea, after all.

Maybe you should go apologize.

You shake your head—you should just finish your paperwork and give the android some space, especially if he’s upset with you. You should just give up trying to understand the innerworkings of CyberLife’s most advanced prototype (he’s made it abundantly clear that you’ve failed at that particular endeavor so far). You should just mind your own goddamn business and go home.

But here you are. Standing up, pushing away from your desk to follow after him.

You shove your hands in your pockets as you round the corner. Try to act nonchalant as possible while you walk down the empty hallway and up to the server room door. It’s dark when you get there, which is—admittedly—a little odd, but you don’t think too hard about it, pushing inside before you lose your nerve.

It’s quiet. Really, really quiet. And real fucking cold, too.

You start walking down the center aisle, glancing up and down the rows of blinking servers as you pass them.

“Nines?” you call. “You in here?”

Something sends a shiver down your spine.

“I, uh… I know you said you’re okay,” you ramble, wandering over to a metal table hidden in the back corner of the room, playing idly with one of the spare cables coiled on top, “but I feel like you’re angry at me or something so—”

You’re pushed up against the wall, hard. Fast.

Panic seizes your throat. You fumble for the empty holster at your belt, then recognize the black and white jacket, the steely eyes glaring down into yours.

“Nines, what the fuck,” you hiss, planting your hands on his chest to push him off of you. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You shove as hard as you can, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even budge.

“…Nines?”

His shoulders are heaving. LED pulsing a bright, angry red. “You need to leave.”

His words are sharp, rough, and it sends a jolt of fear through you.

“Okay, sure, just—” your voice shakes. You start to notice the heat bleeding through the fabric of his uniform. “A-are you overheating or something?” you mutter. “You’re—”

You barely choke back a yelp as he grabs your jaw with one hand.

He stares down at you. Forces your head back until you can’t do anything but stare back at him, can’t do anything but bare your throat and melt in pools of molten silver. You blink—absolutely dumbstruck.

Your heart hammers inside your chest, so hard, so frantic, you’re afraid it might burst. Your face flushes—you know he can hear it, know he can feel it, the way your body responds to his—and suddenly, it’s way too fucking hot in here.

He leans down, keeps you against the wall with fingers that burn against your skin. You feel his breath ghosting across your skin, feel his other hand digging into your waist.

You don’t know what to do—don’t know what the fuck is happening.

He mouths at your collarbone and you jolt, fingers flexing in the soft fabric of his shirt. He dips his tongue into the hollow of your throat, traces its shape and hums as he catalogues the taste of your skin. The whimper falls from your mouth before you can stop it.

“Nines-”

And then he’s kissing you. Crushing his mouth to yours.

You struggle to keep up, pressed further into the wall by the intensity, the heat of him. He bites down on your lower lip, so fucking hard it breaks the skin and you taste blood—whimper and moan and let his tongue dip into your mouth and tangle with yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, twist your fingers in his perfect hair and swallow down every perfect throaty groan he gives you. You arch your back. Press up into his torso, his hips, the hardness you feel against your stomach.

He grabs the backs of your thighs, lifts you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist, and kisses you harder, shoves his tongue so fucking far into your mouth you almost choke on it. He ruts against your clothed core, and the friction, the pressure against your clit—fuck—it makes your eyes roll back.

He carries you over to the metal table, drops you down onto its surface and manhandles you onto your stomach. Drags your pants—your underwear—down just far enough to expose your dripping sex.

“N-Nines!” you yelp, pushing up onto your elbows just to be shoved back down flat, his hand planted firmly between your shoulder blades. You hear him unbuckle his belt, hear him yank his zipper down. “Hold on—”

“Can’t—” he grunts, dragging the fat head of his cock up and down your folds. Your hear lurches, and your hips jerk backwards—you can’t help it.

He sinks into you fast. Filling you so suddenly, so full you feel it in your throat.

You cry out—the stretch, the burn—loud and long and broken off by the hand that clamps around your mouth. That pulls you back to meet his thrusts.

“Quiet,” he hisses. He grabs your hip with his other hand, shifts them so he can hit you deeper, so that he can hit that spongey spot inside you that has you weeping, begging him, muffled by his fingers, to give you more.

White-hot pleasure sears in your center, electric. It pulses harder, as his hips snap into yours, coils tighter with each drag of his head against your walls. You whimper and whine, thrust backwards because you want more—need it.

Your whole body tenses, then fucking shatters—clamping down around his cock.

He pounds into you, fucking relentless. Again and again and again. You splutter nonsense, tears rolling down your cheeks, seeping between his fingers. Begging for him to stop—to go harder. His hips stutter, and he groans, voice staticky and distorted and so fucking hot, pumping you full of his artificial release.

Before you can even begin to catch your breath, before you can really register that he’s let go of your mouth, he flips you over onto your back. Yanks your pants off entirely and grabs your legs, pressing them back flat against the table by the backs of your knees—wide fucking open.

“Fuck, N-Nines,” you whimper, hands splayed out against his abdomen. “Slow down, I-I can’t—”

He drives into you again before you can say anything else. Kisses you deep. Hard. Sucks your tongue into his mouth while he fucks you into the table. Swallows the needy moans, the pathetic, broken whimpers that fall from your mouth.

The stretch. The drag. It’s too much. The way he holds you down. The way he makes you take it. The way pleasure—exhilarating, excruciating—builds and builds and builds; the way it crashes into you and you see white.

He’s filling you again. Painting your insides. Fucking the cum that leaks out back into your abused hole, rolling his hips up into yours. You push on his chest, thrash and writhe underneath him.

He pulls out, pumping into his fist, and cums again—splattering your stomach in artificial release.

The room descends into a fragile stillness. You lay, staring at the ceiling, panting.

“Are you alright, Detective?” he asks eventually, and you manage a weak nod.

“I…” he trails off, tucking himself back into his jeans and righting his jacket. “I apologize, Detective. The interface with the Traci… It… Something happened.”

“Mm?”

He clears his throat. “However, that seems to have… Have cleared the error from my systems.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, nodding again. “Just, uh… Just let me know if you ever need to defrag your hard drive or… or empty your junk mail or something. I’d be, ya know… willing to help out.”

He shoots you an unappreciative glare.

“You should get dressed,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah I will,” you say. “I just need a second. Can’t really feel my legs yet.”

He looks away, but you can feel the smug look on his face.

You can’t really find it in yourself to care though.

Thanks for reading!! Consider giving it a ❤️ and a 🔁 if you enjoyed.

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slapmewithacroc

1 year ago