#//need to use scare tactics on her lol

[belovedblossoms-m]

@sleeplesswork

She’s just like me honestly

[sleepyhoon]

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM 

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

[winterarmyy]

My Person

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, wee bit of angst, bucky is so adorable in this I WANT HIM SO BAD, also he is a bit feral. I feel like he can be more feral than this but you know, he doesn't wanna scare her away lol. This is just a result from surge of need so might not be too much of plot but I hope you enjoy your reading, anyway.

Inspiration: This post right here by @black-cat-2

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Sam took notice on every single crooks and corners as he followed Bucky's dragging footsteps from behind. It wasn't that he didn't want to help him but Bucky refused the offer right on the bat, saying that the serum will fix him up sooner or later.

The aftermath of their final battle with the flagsmasher was chaotic to say the least. With the splitting sides of public opinions of the new Captain America and the whispers about how the former winter soldier saved a bunch of civilian tonight had been the talk of the town.

But both Sam and Bucky decided not to think of it too much,  especially when both were exhausted from the fight. Not to mention Bucky was injured. Although Sam knew damn well that the soldier can managed himself to a hotel to rest for the night like he always does, but as a worried friend, or rather a babysitter some would say, he insisted to accompany Bucky all the way through.

And Bucky was not in the mood to argue; Sam is as equally stubborn as Steve used to be, so he let the man do whatever he wants.

It was clear Sam was suspicious of where the hell did this terminator brought him to, but mostly he was curious. He thought he would just accompany him to the nearest hotel but nope. After taking an Uber, the next thing he knew, Bucky was leading him into this apartment building, that was obviously not his.

"Last time I checked your apartment was in Brooklyn. When did you get a place here?" Sam asked as Bucky stopped at one of the identical looking doors.

"It's not mine" Bucky replied truthfully as he removed the glove from his fleshed hand and pressed his thumb at the top of the door handle.

Sam eyed him with a look on his face when he sassed at him, "Said the guy who is currently unlocking the doors with his fingerprint."

Bucky simply rolled his eyes before the chiming sound alerts that the door was unlocked. Bucky opened the door to let Sam inside before he himself got in after him. "Seriously, man. If I knew you can afford having two apartments I would've asked you to pay for tonight's dinner. That's the least you can do..." Sam's words died as his eyes scanned the apartment.

Whatever he was expecting the apartment to look like, it was far from it. He surely was not expecting the place to be fully decorated with complete set of furniture in every area of the room. Whether it is the living room area, or the huge kitchen that was also equipped with built-in oven.

Even with the lack of light, Sam could see the color pallette on the walls were definitely not what Bucky would go for. The sentimetal trinkets on the shelves, the sweet fragrant of the scented candles; everything was the very opposite of what Bucky's apartment in Brooklyn looks like, feels like.

This, it felt like home. Warm and inviting. Quiet and serene.

"You know what? I take that back. Whose house have you broke us into?" Sam asked, almost in awe rather than shocked, "I know for a fact that this ain't your house."

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he remove his tactical gears, "I didn't say it was mine, remember? Or flying with the pigeons in the sky had made you forgot how to undertand human language?" there was an unfiltered sarcasm in his tone that didn't go unnoticed by Sam.

So obviously he got defensive and unknowingly increase his volume as he countered, "Woah woah, that was uncalled for. And for your information pigeons can't fly as fast a my wings, and rest assured that I--"

Bucky swiftly stomped towards him, eyes wide almost in anger, while his metal hand reached to cover Sam's mouth, "Can you shut the fuck up, she's probably asleep and your noisy ass will wake--"

"Bucky?" A tiny yet groggy voice interrupted the conversation causing both of them to turn their attention to the source. The figure peeped itself from the bedroom, her uncertainty made it that only half of her body was revealed through the doorway.

Her squinting eyes indicates how recent she was woken up from her sleep and Bucky flashed a quick glared at Sam for that. Sam simply shrug with his hands the air as a response. He was still confused who is this woman and why were they in her house.

Bucky's tight features softens as he called for her, "Hey, babydoll. What are you doing up?"

Recognizing that voice anywhere her feet made her way to him, "Heard some noises." She answered shortly as her knuckles find her eyes and rubbed it lightly. The closer she gets, the clearer Bucky can see the dark circles under her eyes, signifying how much she was lacking of sleep.

His heart squeeze a little at the sight, "M'sorry, sweetheart." it was as if their bodies were magnets that they naturally found each other. Bucky opened his arms wide for her to find her rightful place in his embrace.

"It's okay" she mumbled against his sturdy chest. "Welcome home." She continued.

You'd be surprise to know how much the former winter soldier absolutely adore the feeling of her lips moving against his skin. Even if it was blocked by the fabric of his shirt. It always felt good and he swore he could not get enough of it.

Bucky leaned down on top of her head, inhaling the strawberry yogurt scent of her shampooed hair, "Yes. I am home, indeed." His hugged got tighter, crushing her just enough to make those pretty little sounds slipped her from lips.

Strings of hushed moan kept purring in her throat when Bucky lightly swayed her from side to side; his fleshed hand drawing invisible circles on the back of her waist, while his metal hand gently squeeze the back of her neck.

If she let him pamper her more than this, they'd probably forget that Sam was in the room. Unabashedly had his mouth agape at the sight in front of him. He was not sure whether he wanted to look away or to continue staring because no amount of explanation will suffice to answer his questions.

Peeking from Bucky's shoulder, she smiled warmly as she finally acknowledge the unexpected guest, "You must be Sam. I've heard a lot about you."

She tried to wiggle an escape from Bucky arms, but it was no avail; he was not planning to let her go any time soon. She ended up dragging the enormous koala bear who was stuck on her back as she offered Sam a handshake, introducing herself.

"Good things I hope." Sam took her hand and lightly shake it as she replied, "Of course." As much as he wanted to keep his eye contact with her, it was extremely hard when the grumpy super soldier that he knew was basically melting in crook of her neck.

"I don't want to be rude but the two of you are..." Sam purposely left his words hanging, hoping that one of them would finish the sentence before he let out his assumption, however both of them remained silent. The woman was blinking at him confused, while Bucky was practically still drooling over the her.

"...Lovers?" Sam ended his sentence with an uncertain tone.

Both of them went rigid to the question but before Bucky could say anything, she answered first, "No!" She almost shouted, taking a deep breath before she rephrase her answer, "No. I mean yes. We're not... like that."

"So, you guys are friends then?" Sam quirked an eyebrow to her answer, and seeing Bucky's silence, he guessed that the super soldier might liked her more than just 'friends'.

"Yup, we are. We first met when Bucky was on the run from Hydra, before you guys found him. It's a long story, really." And by the time she explained the shorten version of their story, Bucky finally drifted his attention to Sam, a deep frown decorated his brows as he was mentally asking, "How much longer are you going to stand there? Get the fuck out."

Sam should be offended by his silent orders but considering he came in the middle of the night, uninvited, he realized that he should leave them be,"Then, let that be a reason for us to meet again. You can tell me all about this meet-cute of yours later. I don't want to keep you away from him any longer. Especially when he is staring daggers at me."

She lightly tapped on Bucky's arms, and quick frown at him followed after as she non-verbally asking him stop glaring at Sam. Needless to say, Sam removed himself from the scene after they, or rather she, bid him goodbye.

As soon as the doors closed, Bucky has her back pressed against the door, wasting no time than to capture her lips. A gasped from her made it easy for him to slip his tongue inside. He kissed her slow yet so hungrily as if he was starved of the taste of her sweet mouth against his.

Bucky broke the kiss momentarily just to whisper, "I missed you so much, babydoll." With his thigh in between her legs, he guided her clothed core to slowly hump against him. "Missed you, too." Her beautiful moans only encourage his cock to swell even more than it already was.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky let her catch a breath as his glazed eyes adored her soft features. He still remembered the day when he first met her.  When he escaped from Hydra's control, he was determined to keep his life down low. Don't attract to much attention, follow the schedule and stick to rules.

And his schedule was never interesting, it was always:

- write his journal entry

- find/do odd and non-permenant jobs for money

- grocery shopping and cooking

- watch the news

- and mostly just stay at home

Obviously, Bucky knows how to use the internet and all those modern devices that they have nowadays, but he never understand them; the 'social media' and the 'viral' things were never really appealing to him. So one day he decided to pay a visit to a small local library; hoping to find fimiliar solace in books instead.

What are the odds that both of them reach for the same book at the same time? After the multiple exchange of: 'Oh, I'm sorry, here take it.' 'No, you take.' 'No, please I insist.' They ended up meeting on a common ground; making a decision to sit down and read together. Turns out, spending a few hours with her at the library was the most peace he had since forever.

Bucky had a strict routine and rules. But the moment she asked him if he want to spend more time with her while she was there, he was ready to break all of it. And he did; for 7 days straight.

She was his first sense of freedom. His first choice in life.

Though, back then he was on a run, for presumably a lifetime, while she was on business trip for a week. So, they lost contact after that, especially when Bucky was running around with the Avengers and fighting aliens, but fate seemed to be on their side when they were reunited again in New York.

It's a miracle that she even recognized him. Little did he knew, he wasn't the only one who got hooked on the first few hours of that reading session had.

Though, he was extremely grateful that she reach out the moment she recognized him; no hesitant, no doubt. Just a confident and cheerful shout of his name in middle of the park that he walks through everyday.

The first thing that came out from her mouth after calling out his name was a compliment of his new hair cut and how she can see his beautiful eyes more clearer now. And that alone had made Bucky absolutely red in blush.

Weeks after that, she often joined him with his daily walk, making it their routine instead of just his. And months into this newly founded 'friendship', they found solace in each other's arms, comfort in each other's touch, and this quickly become their new favourite activity to do together.

Though none of them ever actually discuss their status but their body language suggest that they are more than just friends.

Especially with the way Bucky was rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on her clit; so desperate yet so gentle. Just like how he always does when he makes love to her. But, tonight he felt different. Maybe he was just needy or maybe it was the way she admit that they were not lovers when Sam asked about their relationship.

It was true. But, it felt so wrong.

"Am I just a friend to you, doll? Bucky leaned forward, his forehead met hers, his hot breath tickling her skin.

His tongue briefly passed in between his lips as he spreads her legs further, revealing her dripping cunt for his display, "Do your friends touch you like this, hmm?" His husky whisper as he rubbed his hardened length in between her slit, brushing against her clit.

"Do your friends kiss you all over like me?" She moaned breathily, as he bit and kiss the softness of her breasts; easily leaving his marks as if she was his to claim.

And without any warning, his cock slammed straight into her hole, stretching the walls to his size causing her to yelp in painful pleasure. Bucky let out a satisfied groan as the tightness of her around him, "Do your friends fuck this tight little pussy with their cock like me?"

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from pulling and pushing his hips to meet hers, his fingertips was practically digging into the flesh of her hips, moving her in time with his thrusts, "What am I to you, baby?" Honestly, it was hard for her to form complete thoughts, let alone reply to his question when he was fucking her so good.

Gone was the gentleman she knew for the past years, the koala bear that she spent hours on the couch cuddling to a movie marathon with. Now, there was only this feral beast, hungry for pleasure, insatiable to devour her whole body and soul.

Each roll of his hips pushed her further from her sober thoughts, focusing only on the wild look on his face, his huge body hunched over hers, his throbbing cock kissing her cervix. Any answer she was trying to convey was lost at the tip of her tongue; there were just the mewling mess, as she fell apart underneath him, compliant to his every thrust as his cock ramming within her. "Tell me. Come on, now. Use your words."

Bucky was almost losing his mind, from how bad he wanted to cum and how stubborn she was for not answering his questions. He pushed her legs up and wide as his thrust punctuated to his words,  "What. Am. I. To. You?"

It took her a couple of long moans at his roughness, before she could utter a single word, the only correct answer to his question, "Mine."

He groaned approvingly, pulling back just enough to slide his metal between their bodies. "I'm yours?" Those hard, cold fingers that she loved so much was quick to find her clit. She was already sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and now was he relentlessly assaulting the swollen nub, "Then, does that make you mine as well huh, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Bucky. You're mine. And I'm yours. All yours. Pleasee"

Her back arches off the bed, toes curling tight as her nails dug into his skin and across his back; To have some kind of a leverage to hold as the overwhelming pleasure surged through her body.

"Yeah, that's right, babygirl. You're mine and mine alone. Mine to love, mine to fuck. Yes?" Bucky taunted her with both his words and the way he rutted into her wet pussy, as if he himself was not close to the egde.

The sound of skin to skin clashing intertwined with the sounds of her pussy squelching around his cock, his girth kept pounding straight into her sweet spot to the point that only lewd whimpers of plead were spewing out of her lips, "Yes, yes yes. Oh Bucky please,, fuck,, I'm cumming!"

"Cum, sweetheart. Let me feel that tight little pussy of mine cum around my cock" He hummed approvingly as he picked a deeper and harsher pace, causing her mouth to fall wide open and her eyes screwed shut as she felt her whole body shook as she came. "Yeah,, that's it, doll. That's my girl. fuckkk,, feels so good baby, gonna make me cum inside you if you keep choking me like that."

"Please, Bucky?" A breathy moan of his name passed her lips as she her walls spasm with need. Bucky groan to the sensation, he was sure that her pussy was already full of his precum, considering how it has been leaking inside her for so long, "Want my cum in you, pretty girl?"

Batting her eyes through her lashes, she stared up at him, pleading., "Need it, please."

"Oh fuck, you got it, sweetheart." Throwing his head back in pleasure, shutting his eyes solely to focus of the feeling of her wet and tight cunt, Bucky's pace quicken as he chased his high, "Hmmm,, fuckk,, gonna stuff you full. You'll leaking for days, babydoll. Then, I'm gonna keep filling you until you can't live without my cum inside your pussy."

Hearing such dirty confessiom only triggers her to near orgasm, "Yess pleasee i want it. Need it, bucky." Surely enough she came again when he hit that special spot inside her.

"Ahh,, fuck ahhh,, I'm cumming shit pussy so good m'cumming fuckkkk", Bucky couldn’t even stop himself from rutting in and out of her sweet pussy as his cock pulsed, especially when her cunt was sucking him in deeper.

His head fall down to watch his cock disappear inside her before squeezing it shut again when the white spurt of cum shoots against her walls. His jaw was loose as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape to allow his loud groans contaminated the silenced room.

His thick endless cum warm her insides and the honeyed moans hanging off her lips to its own accord as Bucky hunched over her frame, pressing his face in crook of her neck, breathing heavily as she was. After awhile, a broken sound of his voice stopped the silence, "Do you really mean it?"

He refused to look at her in the eyes, afraid of the rejection that might come his way but she proved him wrong by holding him by his cheeks, leading his eyes to align with hers,

"Bucky. You, my dear, are my bestfriend; you are my heart, you are my person. And there is no one in this world that I'd rather spend my whole life with besides you." Her words was nothing but the truth and Bucky knew that.

His heart swelled with joy yet he didn't know how to express it other than, "I love you, doll..." there was pause as if he was gathering the pieces of his soul to offer it to her, "...So much."

And she accepted it with her whole heart, "I love you too, Bucky."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I was gone for awhile but never too long. Hope you enjoy this little drabble 👀

[daydreaming-nerd]

Lipstick Kisses (Azriel x Female! reader)

AN: while I LOVED my last Azriel fic I felt kinda bad about how it ended to so even though this was supposed to be a Cassian fic I thought I would switch it up just to say I’m sorry lol 

Summary: You and Azriel weren’t together. But you also weren’t not together. Sure he warmed your bed nightly, but he had made it clear that he was hesitant to date his best friend, Rhysand’s, little sister. You were content to play the game until one night a certain princess got so far under your skin you couldn’t see straight. 

Warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, cockwarming if you squint? 

Word Count: 2496

(all pics are from pinterest) 

Rita’s had never been so busy before. Packed from wall to wall with members of every court here to celebrate the week leading up to Starfall. A tradition my brother had long since put on. Everyone seemed to be merry and happy, even Azriel who stood at the bar with the Princess of Adriata. 

Azriel and I had been hot and heavy for a couple of months. My whole life the shadowsinger and I had danced around one another, flirting here and there but never acting. It wasn’t until one night when I ran into the spymaster in the hallway of the House of Wind, when we couldn’t stay away from one another. It was a mess of hands, teeth, tongues and kisses as he took me against the wall. From that moment on Azriel sought to warm my bed nightly, but nothing more and I never thought to ask him why for fear of losing him. We weren’t together, weren’t not together. And I had no right to stare daggers at the Princess of Adriata, yet here I stood, at the edge of the room doing just that. 

“Looking a little tense there y/n,” Cassain drawled, nudging my shoulder. 

“I am not tense,” I gritted out. 

“Then why does it look like you’re about to shatter that glass with your bare hand?” he retorts. I look to where my polished fingers are gripping my cocktail in rage. 

“I’m just scared someone is going to knock my drink out of my hand, it’s super busy in here,” I say, loosening my grip on the glass. 

Cassian let out a chuckle, “You sure it has nothing to do with the way Az is looking at the Princess of Adriata?” he smirked. While Az and I hadn’t told anyone about our nightly escapades, poor Cassain was practically forced to have the knowledge as his room was next to mine. 

I meet Cassian’s eyes in a sideways glare causing him to laugh again. 

“Of course he wants The Princess of Adriata,” I sneer at her name. 

“You’re a Princess too y/n,” Cassian reminds me.

“Yeah well apparently not the right type,” I huff, turning around so I don’t have to watch them smile and flirt anymore. 

“You should get him back,” Cassian muses. 

“If you’re trying to take me into your bed again it won’t work.” I laugh while sipping my drink, remembering a different drunken night, or a few of them, that Cassian and I had shared at Rita’s. 

“You wound me Princess, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy yourself all those years ago,” he smirked, bumping my shoulder again. 

“Illyrians really are sensitive babies. Now what kind of revenge did you have in mind?” I smirk into my glass. 

“You got some red lipstick in that bag?” his eyes gleamed. 

I rummage around through the mess of trinkets in my purse till I find the red rouge sitting in the bottom and pull it out. “Looks like I do,” I say, holding it up for him to see. 

“Perfect, now put it on,” he says standing in front of me so I can use his siphon as a mirror as I always had for years anytime I needed to fix my makeup or hair. He used to hate it, but now I think it makes him feel special. 

“I fail to see where this is going,” I contest putting the lipstick back in my bag. 

Cassian didn’t say anything, he just pointed to his cheek asking for me to kiss it. I rolled my eyes and obliged. When I pulled back a bright red lipstick stain adorned his cheek and I realized what he was doing now. 

“Cassian, you're a genius,” I laugh. 

“Well I am a specialist in war tactics after all. Now go around and say hello to every Lord in here and greet them with one of your sweet kisses. The second Az looks around he’s going to lose his mind.” he explains. 

“Thanks Cass,” I laugh before turning away but I feel his hand on my arm. 

“I think I might deserve a little more thanks than that Princess,” he says playfully.

“Fine you big baby,” I roll my eyes before placing a quick kiss on his lips seeing the lipstick residue there. 

“You’re welcome princess,” he smirks triumphantly before turning away.

I turn to the crowd of people in front of me scanning the hundreds of happy faces packed into the tavern. Like a beacon of hope I find Thesan conversing with two other Lords, the perfect target. 

“Thesan!” I cheer, “My brother and I are honored to have you here in our court,” I greet him sweetly, pressing a discreet kiss to his cheek.    

“Princess it’s always a pleasure to be in your presence,” Thesan smiles warmly. “May I present Lord Baylor and Lord Suffolk.” 

Both Lords reach their hands out to mine and I push them away, “Please I’ve never been fond of handshakes,” I smile gently, embracing each of them and pressing kisses to their cheeks as well. 

“We are honored to be here Princess y/n, the stories of your beauty still don’t do you justice,” Lord Baylor smiled.  

“You all flatter me too much, it’s going to go straight to my head,” I tease playfully before excusing myself to mingle with the other lords.       

I continue my charade until my drink empties and I’m forced to retreat to the bar for another. I be sure to pass right by where Azriel and The Princess of Adriata are talking before leaning against the bartop and requesting my regular. I try to hide the smirk when I feel a certain scarred hand graze my elbow. 

“Is there a reason why those red lips have been on the cheek of every man here tonight Princess?” Azriel says lowly into my ear. 

“I’m just being a good host Az,” I say, not keeping my eye off the bartender making my drink. 

“More than good the way I see it,” he grits and his hands trace the backs of my arms. The bartender brings my drink over and I leave a large tip in his jar. I finally turn to meet Azriel’s intense gaze. 

“Don’t be so jealous Azriel, after all we aren’t even together,” I tilt my head before sauntering off. 

When I get back to the House of Wind that night I’m utterly exhausted. I open the door to my bedroom and kick my shoes off sending them flying across the room. My dress is the next to go, falling in a pile on the floor. I wash up, and slip on my nightgown before falling into my bed with a sigh, too lazy to turn off the small fae light next to me. I try to sleep but it’s not the same without a certain Illyrian next to me. 

A half hour later I hear the door open slowly, I pretend to still be asleep not wanting to even speak to Azriel. When I had left Rita’s he was still talking with The Princess of Adriata, and this time she had a hand on his bicep.

I heard daggers and leathers falling to the ground as the bed sank behind me. 

“Scooch over Princess, there's no room for me,” he whispered into my ear as his arms circled around me to move me over. 

“Get off me Az, I don’t remember inviting you to my bed tonight,” I grumble, not moving an inch. 

He doesn’t move, “I’ve been sleeping here for three months y/n what do you mean?” 

“I mean, I don’t want The Princess of Adriata’s sloppy seconds sleeping in my bed, now go to your own room,” I huff, slamming my head down on my pillow for emphasis. 

Azriel scoffs, “This is about Cressida?” he asks in disbelief. 

“Oh good for you, you’re on a first name basis with the oh so perfect princess,” I say donning the same mocking tone I used to Cassian. 

“You do know that you’re also a Princess,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. 

“So I’ve heard,” I roll my eyes, moving my shoulder away from him. “Now get out.” 

“Y/n, I didn’t sleep with her,” Azriel says, pressing another kiss to my shoulder.

“Yeah right,” I scoff. 

“She did try, but I told her I was seeing someone,” he continued kissing my arm. 

“Oh really?” I sneer. 

“Yes my love,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You.”  

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me, I thought you just wanted to fuck me,” I grumble trying not to enjoy his lips on my body. 

“I never said that,” he states and I can feel his agitation. 

“Well you didn’t not say it either, what am I supposed to think when I only see you at night?” I argue. 

“Fine, I’ll admit it, I was scared.” he grumbled, moving to lean back on the pillows. 

I sit up to face him and find him pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead like he has the largest migraine to ever be known to man. 

“Scared of what?” I scoff in disbelief. He was Azriel, my spymaster and a shadowsinger. I had seen his fierceness on a battlefield countless times, seen him slaughter enemies of my court. What could possibly scare him?

“I was scared that one day you’d wake up and realize what I truly am, a lowborn nobody. You’re a princess for gods sakes y/n. The most beautiful woman in Prythian. You should be with a prince like Varian, not me. And even though I knew that I couldn’t stay away from you. You smell so good and your skin is so soft and the way you look at me sometimes? It would’ve taken all seven High Lords to keep me from your bed, especially when you invite me to it so willingly. I was scared that if we made our relationship something more than just pleasure that you would realize that, and that’s a blow I couldn’t handle.” Azriel confessed, finally ripping his hands off his forehead to stare at the ceiling.  

“Azriel I-” 

“It’s okay you don’t have to say anything,” he sighed, getting out of bed. 

“Az,” I plead, but he keeps walking.

 “Azriel stop!” I scream not the request of a lover, but the order of a princess. I see his wings twitch as he stops moving, still not turning to meet my eye. 

“Azriel I love you,” I confess. 

He whips around to meet my eyes, using his years of reading people to try and decipher whether or not I’m telling the truth. He finds no trace of a lie and before I know it he’s standing over the bed and bringing his lips to mine. His knees sink to the bed and I use his off balance to push him down into the pillows so I can straddle his lap. 

“Do you mean it?” he asks as I lean back to look at him, his eyes blown out and on cloud nine. 

“I’ve loved you for years Az, just ask my brother. When I thought you didn’t want to do anything but bed me my heart was broken, but I was willing to take whatever I could get.” I explained. 

“You have all of me y/n,  you always will,” he smiles, leaning up to kiss me. “But I’m still mighty jealous of all those lipstick prints, especially the ones I saw on Cassian.” he smirks against my skin. 

“I think I can make it up to you,” I smile before reaching over to my bedside table to retrieve the lipstick from my discarded clutch. I keep our eyes locked as I put the cherry red color all over my lips and I swear I feel his cock twitch under me. 

I lean down to leave a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, his jaw, his chin and then I give the other side of his face the same treatment. I move my lips down either side of his neck earning a low groan from him. I smile and continue my assault all over his bare chest and shoulders. 

“Fuck y/n,” he moans and I can tell he’s trying not to flip me over and pound me into the mattress. 

I leave lipstick marks all over his abs and when I reach his boxers I pull the waistband down just enough to leave a kiss right above his aching cock. 

“Fuck this I need to be inside you,” he grunts and I’m quickly being hauled up by my arms and tossed on my back. Within moments he slams his cock inside me. 

“Oh fuck Azriel!” I scream, raking my nails down his back. 

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping as Azriel thrusts inside me at a brutal pace. Both seeking his own pleasure and to claim. 

“Your turn Princess,” he smirks before sucking the skin of my neck into his mouth. My hands fly to his hair pulling him closer to me as his teeth sink into my neck.

“Azriel,” I breathe into his ear and he spurs his hips even faster. I feel him leave a light lick soothing the skin he bit into. 

“Mine,” he growls before leaning back to admire his work. He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders to hit me even deeper making my eyes roll to the back of my head. 

“Azriel!” I scream practically in subspace. 

“That’s right Princess, let everyone know who owns this little pussy,” he grins with male pride. 

“Yours Az all yours,” I breathe, unable to find my words.

“Good girl,” he says before reaching down to rub circles into my clit. The sudden sensation is enough to have me arching my back and cumming on his cock, a string of curses and his name falling off my lips.

Azriel continues thrusting into me seaking his own pleasure before spilling into me with a moan that practically shakes the doors. His head burrows into my neck and I run my hands through his hair pressing kisses to his face. I look up at him to see the lipstick marks all over him and I can’t help but laugh. 

He rolls us to the side taking me with him so his cock is still inside me. 

“Do you think Rhys is gonna kill me when he finds out?” Azriel asks jokingly but I can tell he’s genuinely wondering. 

“Well he was pissed at Cassian but he got over it so I’d say we’re good,” I sigh tracing the lipstick marks left on his chest. 

“Wait, you slept with Cassian?” he asks, stunned. 

“Yeah like 105 years ago, you didn’t know?” I laugh. 

“No I didn’t,” he says, throwing his arms around me and standing up making sure his cock doesn’t leave its spot nestled inside me.

“What are you doing?” I giggle playing with his hair as I feel my back hit  the far wall of my room. 

“Fucking you against Cassian’s bedroom wall,” he smirks kissing me deeply. “Gotta let him know we’re official now.” 

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 8)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 📍 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Part 8 - Trust

Detective Brady is sharper than you initially thought, though Alastor is (seemingly) unfazed by the threat. While you both explore the idea of ‘home’ a familiar face shows up at your apartment.

「Warnings/Tags: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, Detective Brady exists a lot and maybe too much, fingering lol, phone calls, almost our first fight, stress, Disney mom rule, Ruth is pretty alright for now, Brenda」

forgot to tag you in the deleted scene for TRDFAHS

M👻D☠️N👽I😈

Your mother always said ‘Anger is your sword and shield’. So you postured yourself as someone mad. One hip out, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“Sir I don’t appreciate a man in a lady’s space.”

Brady bit his tongue, wanting to say something sharp.

 I don’t see any ladies here.

 He met the glares of the women behind you. “Ah, well-,”

“Do you really expect her to leave in her robe?”

“Aren’t you the man whose been stalking her?”

“Autumn I’ll go with you.”

“You want her to get into a strange man’s car?”

He felt like a fox about to be pecked to death by the hens.

“Now-! Alright I’m seeing I maybe,” he set your shoes down and slid past you and between the other performers, “got a little eager to speak to you.”

“Does Janet know you like to hang around burlesquers?” Someone said as his back was turned.

Like having ice water poured over his head, his shoulders tensed as did his tone. “I’ll be right out the door.”

You tried to hide the tremble in your hands, but failed. Ruth slid beside you, “What do you need?”

A phone. But the cord wouldn’t reach that far. You wanted to tell Alastor. You needed him to know that detective had you cornered and knew of his existence.

“Could you stay with me? I’m not going anywhere. But I’ll feel safer if I’m not talking to him alone. In case he tries to drag me out. He seems a little off his rocker.” You were genuinely scared he would grab you by the arm and pull you out of the theater if he didn’t think anyone would see. 

She patted your back, the others filing in to continue with their work of getting dressed and undressed. You took your time, trying to plan what you would say.

Brady felt an embarrassed blush take hold as the women moved past him with scowls and tsks. He could feel a little bit of his sanity slip back now that you were in front of him. 

“I have some questions about Tommy. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. We can head down now.”

Oddly, your mother also taught you, ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’ 

She didn’t always make a lot of sense, contradicting herself daily. 

Time to use the tried and true tactic, “I am sorry, detective. I had some trouble recently and have been keeping to myself… going home as soon as possible. Just trying to keep my nose clean. So to speak.”

Brady watched you look up at him with a face his daughter often gave him when she was in trouble. But you weren’t a child and you surely weren’t his daughter. “That’s no excuse to dodge me.”

Your turn to bite your tongue, “Of course, sir.”

Ruth was… confused. She’d never seen you so obedient. You had more venom in your voice after taking a hit from Tommy knowing a third could be close behind. Why were you being so small?

“Are you ready to go?” He fished in his pocket for his car door keys. 

Ruth felt the need to interject, “She’s not going anywhere.”

Perfect.

You nodded, “I won’t be out at night, sir. You know better than most about the dangers.” Your dangers. Your darling Alastor.

“No, no no,” an unhinged chuckle from the fraying detective, “You’re not slipping away again. I have my car, I’ll take you there and bring you home.”

Ruth looked to you, then back to the detective, “Is she under arrest?”

Brady rolled his eyes, “Of course not.”

“Then? What gives you the right?”

Technically, nothing. He didn’t need to talk to you. His lead still stood. But maybe you’d slip and say something to expedite his search for the radio man. Maybe this would only end with Tommy. But he felt something tickling the back of his skull. An urge to not stop pushing.

“I’ll meet you at the station tomorrow morning. Is it the address on the card you gave me?” Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t. You just needed him gone so you could call Alastor. 

He was shaking his notebook, key looped onto his finger. A nervous habit. “You still have my card?”

A smile, “Of course. In case any news came up. I’d have called but I didn’t realize you were so worked up.”

He scoffed. He wasn’t worked up. He was just annoyed. Maybe a little rougher in demeanor than usual but whose fault was that?

“If you don’t turn up tomorrow-,”

Ruth, taller than most women and some men and wide at the shoulders, leaned in.

Brady’s eyeline adjusted from yours to Ruth’s. Skye Scraper wasn’t just a pun, it was a cruel nickname she took ownership of. “Finish that sentence.”

The conversation ended there, Brady leaving with a huff.

You’d memorized the number the night Alastor gave it to you, too scared to write it down. He warned you though he wouldn’t be the one to answer.

“Is Alastor still there?” You tried to smile so you sounded less panicked. Ruth mouthed his name and pretended to swoon as you held the phone close to your ear. 

“Uhh depends, who is this?” Brenda answered, a voice you’d never heard but a woman Alastor had primed you for. 

“….”, but why hadn’t you thought through this part, what name was safe? Which was recognizable? You didn’t like the idea of this woman knowing your name. “Tell him it’s Autumn.”

“….” 

You laughed at Ruth, waiting still for a reply from Brenda, “Hello?”

“Is this a crank? Autumn like the season? I-,” a commotion, “Hey there! No. I don’t know. Well it’s past hours anywa-.”

Alastor was lying across Brenda’s desk to reach the phone, having wrestled it from the woman’s grip, “I’m here. What’s wrong? I was about to leave.”

“I’ll walk home tonight.” It hurt, physically hurt, to say it.

Alastor tried to keep his face neutral, “Oh.” Nervous fingers twirling the cord, “One second.” 

Harsh whispers, some clicks, and he was back, “I’m in my office. What happened?”

“Yeah Ruth is with me. It’s okay. I’ll call you like normal tomorrow?” 

“Should I swing by your apartment?” He considered doing it regardless of your answer.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ll be heading to the police station early tomorrow so I’ll be asleep as soon as I’m flat.” Putting your hand over the receiver, you spoke to Ruth, “Thank you, we got it figured out.”

His heart sank to his stomach, “Did he finally manage to catch you?”

“Yeah. Or—-,” your voice cracked a little, the fear rolling in as soon as Ruth walked away, “Yeah.”

“I’m coming over to the theater.”

Cupping the phone you curved your shoulders in and turned away from the staff milling about, “Don’t, that’s worse.” Tears stung your eyes. You felt like you’d failed him. You had somehow, hadn’t you? The loose thread Brady could grab ahold of was you.

“If you can’t come to the alley I’ll leave after a couple minutes. But I’ll be there in twenty, same time as our normal pick up.”

“Alastor, that’s reckless.”

“Please, dear, I don’t want our first fight to be over my work line.” A calming breath, “You don’t have to meet me, but I’ll be there. Just five minutes, then I’ll be off.”

You decided the safest thing to do was to wait in the alley. If you saw any signs of Brady or anyone coming out, you’d go back inside and just miss the meeting. But the idea of Alastor being just beyond the wall, waiting all alone, was too much.

But how much harder would it be if the wall was of the prison? Or worse, dense earth under your feet? That’s what Brady was wanting. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been chewing your nails until his car turned down the alley from the back and you tore off much of the length of your thumbnail.

Your arms were thrown around him before he was fully out of the car, “Alastor, he knows I have a guy. He wanted me to go down right now but I managed to push it to tomorrow.” Alastor tried to decipher the words as you spoke them into his vest, “What do I do?”

Normally you’d have your own plans in mind but this was too big, this was capable of hurting him more than anyone else. 

He smelled like ink and smoke, a scent you inhaled as you tried to calm your breath.

A large hand patted your head, “Okay. You go tomorrow. It’ll be fine. Don’t stress.” Pulling you off he placed chaste kisses across your face. “Think about what you want to say to him and we can talk it out in the morning. Everything is fine.”

The reality of you standing in a dirty alley crying into the arms of a murderer set in. Then the little detail you were both killers creeped over your chest and took hold of your throat.

He was impressed at the strength of your hands as you gripped at his clothes. Leaning against the car, he offered you his most charming smile.

“Deep breaths, dear. Do I look scared?”

He didn’t. He looked like a magazine ad for French cologne or razor blades that left the softest skin. 

“No.” You shook your head.

“No.” He nodded. “It’ll be okay. If you don’t go, he will hound you worse. If you do go, maybe he’ll realize he’s got a handful of nothing.”

His smile blinded you. Bright grin as he rested against his car, arms open. 

“Do you really think so? A handful of nothing?”

“Did he say my name?”

“No.”

“Did he–” he elongated the word, lips pursed as he searched the sky for his next words, “have Tommy’s body?”

You laughed, morbid but preposterous, “I didn’t pat him down. Coulda.” 

Alastor snapped his fingers, “We’ll have to just assume he didn’t.” A moment of tension. The act of joking barely traversing the space between your bodies let alone reaching the stress under your skin. His hands came to your shoulders; firm, secure. “Did you want to have that fight now? About me coming over here.”

You rolled your eyes, obviously not. “Ala-,” you started and stopped.

“I’ll admit I’m being reckless but I think we can both agree my way is more fun.” Smile sliding into a smirk, he cocked his head and lowered it to get back into your line of sight. When you stuck your tongue out he took a deep breath in, relief. “Are you sure I can’t take you home?”

To which home, you wondered. He used the word so casually and interchangeably…

Face close to yours. Eyes solely on you. Perhaps the stage wasn’t as necessary as you’d once thought. Lips on lips, the feeling of his smile spreading as he returned the kiss. A second of panic as you realized you couldn’t see or hear or sense what else was happening anymore in the alley. Brady could have had you in handcuffs and you wouldn’t be the wiser. Not as long as Alastor’s mouth was moving over yours.

“I’ll call in the morning.” He said into your exhale.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet. Not ready to return to earth. A pout from you. A chuckle from him. “I’ll be waiting,” You finally said. 

While you did your waiting, shuffling around the theater and later tossing around in bed, Alastor fell into a different kind of purgatory.

One he hadn’t realized he’d made for himself until you weren’t there. 

The house was quiet, almost eerie. Even with music on he found himself nearly uncomfortable. He shifted several times in his chair while reading, not finding any way to settle in. 

His bed was lopsided. Suddenly one side was too light. Multiple times his hand slid under the sheets in search of you out of habit. 

What a terrible feeling; to want someone. To know you could have them but they just… weren’t there.

It didn't make any sense. He knew he’d see you soon, in less than a day's time even. He typically enjoyed his home and its silence. Being alone was predictable and therefore comforting. Well, it had been. Before you. 

The feeling in his chest, akin to a magnet tugging through his sternum toward a distant partner, didn’t abate.

Only when he heard your voice again over the phone did he find a sliver of peace.

“I’ve decided I’ll deny I have a guy. And, I’ll never tell him about you. It’s safer if he never connects us.”

Alastor was listening, honestly, but he wasn’t really processing. His mind was worried about something else. The detective genuinely didn’t bother him but he had to agree, “I suppose that’s best. As long as we can manage it, to not let him know we’re together.”

Together.

You were together with him. An item. How spectacular you must be to be a part of anything with him.

But for how long? With a certain detective breathing down your neck…, “I’m scared. Actually.”

You could hear the smile in Alastor’s breath, it was odd but eased you. 

“He will never have enough to convict us. He’ll drive himself crazy trying. Trust me.” He soothed. 

Did you have any choice? “Okay. You’re right. I trust you.” Unequivocally so. 

He cleared his throat, “Sorry to change the subject…”

“Please.”

“I want you to come over again tonight. What do you think?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, don’t even need to ask. I’ll always say yes.” All you needed to do was get through Brady and you’d be home.

But for Alastor, well, he wasn’t done asking the question. A moment of panic from a place unrecognized in his brain, fear of losing himself entirely. But what good was a safe harbor if he never ventured out to sea? That’s just a restraint then, isn’t it? 

Maybe you held a place for him even richer in its comforts than his solitude.

So he let himself drift away from familiar shores, no sails and no compass, “I think it’d be smart to bring over a couple sets of clothes. I can keep them washed and always here for you. Would that be alright?” He had wanted to suggest it while together, but Brady was ruining more than his sleep.

Oh.

The same silence from when he first extended the invitation, the deja vu not lost on you. You struggled to decipher the second meaning you were sure was there. Maybe he didn't know what he had asked. 

“I know it’s boring out in the boonies but, you’re welcome to just stay over while I go to work. I can come back and get you for rehearsals… I’ll enjoy the clubs or come back and make something for a late dinner for us, and bring you home when you’re done.”

He said it. He hadn’t really meant to, so he felt the need to clarify, but you also needed him to clarify just as quickly, “I -,”

“Did you me-?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“No I interrupted you-,”

“Not at all pl-,”

“Alastor for the love of God please don’t make me keep talking right now.” You lightly knocked your head with the phone a few times. Your heart was gasping for an ounce of understanding.

He chuckled, glad you were still very much yourself, “I meant, take you home as in, away from work. So, here. Or, there, if you’d prefer.” His face scrunched up, this wasn’t a conversation he had any practice in, “Anywhere really. I’ll drive you anywhere.”

“Alabama?”

He looked at the phone as if you were in it. Alabama? 

“Like— the first time you asked me over.” You added quickly. A terrible joke, a bad callback that made it painfully obvious you committed everything he said to memory.

Alastor rested his cheek on the dining table, laughing into the wood before bringing the receiver back. You always offered him an out of uncomfortable situations, “Well the offer still stands. I'd be willing to even venture at least halfway across Texas.” 

“The best half of Texas is on our side so that’s a generous offer. But, given our work schedules, I think your house would be much better. Time wise.” 

He let his eyes close as he felt the coldness of the wood, “Is that a yes then? To bringing over a couple of items… for ease.” Was it a mistake? Would he regret it? 

You were worth regrets. He had decided. He wanted you to say yes.

The weight of what he was asking wasn’t lost on you an ounce. You could see your window from the phone booth. You took great pride in your little apartment. It was your space and no one else’s. As a child you struggled to have your own anything, so you valued your home. 

But could you call any place so far from Alastor a home?

It’s just a few items. You weren’t giving up your lease. It’s a baby step. One you could easily walk back if you needed to later. It’s not like you hadn’t spent every night possible already since that first offer.

“Yes.” 

It was a plan that took your mind off cops. Have your interrogation, go home, then go home for a relaxing evening of jazz and drink.

The levity ended though the second you hung up the receiver. An obstacle between you and him still stood. You pulled out your bag but couldn’t find the will to pack it. Your hands were too busy as you chewed on your thumbnail again.

Brady noticed the uneven length when you sat down and set your hands on the table.

“Surprised you showed.” He opened his notebook and readied his pencil. “First things first, what is your legal name?”

A chill. You’d gotten your warning the night before to prepare something to say but ignored it. Your mind was flipping through words and images. Piercing all of it were the white reflective eyes of the deer along the road. You decided to lean into what you knew. 

“Autumn.”

“Really? Never heard the name Autumn before.”

“Me either. Made for an easy stage name.”

“I’ll need to see your birth records, just to be sure.”

You sucked your teeth. “Ah, unfortunately…all that stuff was left behind with my mom when I moved.”

“And where can I find her?

“Corner of North Villere street and Piety.”

“And your address?”

You paused. His eyes rose and met yours. The radiant aqua from the cafe morning was now an icy color. “I don’t give my address out. You know where I work.”

“But you’re fine giving me your mother’s address? That’s cold.”

“Not as cold as she is, I’m sure of that.”

“Fine, I’ll find it in the census records.” He flipped the page, “Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged.” He tapped his notepad on the table like it was the starting bell of a fight.

You wished Alastor was with you, but also wished he would never enter that station. “Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he,” you remembered the man and his ugly tie, “introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently.”

“And who was that?”

You searched your memory, “S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening.”

Brady nodded, “And then he knocked you around?”

You winced without meaning too, “Yeah. Got me good.”

Brady waited for you to continue talking, but you had learned this game. People know silence is uncomfortable and will use that against you. So you let the silence stay. Let the awkward tension build. You had limited time, he knew that.

He caved first. “And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that.”

Lying was second nature to you. You had killed for Alastor. You could do this. Deep breaths, slink into yourself. You imagined Alastor choked on the park grounds, wet and unmoving. Imagined him cold to the touch.

“Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection.” Tears welled. Bloody hands and a large rock. “But as soon as he got his money he left.” 

Brady was writing, “And the man? What was his name.”

“Something foreign. Kerr-something. Or Car?”

He looked up slightly, “You’re pretty terrible at names.”

You wiped away your tears, “I had more pressing concerns at the time than trying to remember that man’s name. I was hoping I’d never need to know it.”

Brady hummed, “Yeah. And what did your beau think of this?”

Did you hide it? The flash of panic that rolled under the flesh of your face, “If I had a beau Tommy wouldn’t have made me do that. He said that himself.”

“Too bad he’s not here to confirm.”

“If he was we wouldn’t be having this conversation, detective.”

“Touché. Clever little lady aren’t you?”

Fuck.

You shifted slightly in your seat, looking downward in an attempt at being bashful. “That’s kind to say.”

“So why did,” he flipped through his book, “Beth say you stopped singin’ on Sundays cuz of your radio boyfriend?”

“Ah,” a weak laugh to hide the way your breath got sucked in with panic. The words ‘radio boyfriend’ punched the air from your lungs. “You must mean the rake. Took me for a ride at a club corner and sent me off in a cab to never see me again. Didn’t know he was in radio though.” 

“Well now you’re lying and I don’t appreciate it one ounce ma’am.“

“What?”

“Beth says he’s been coming to your shows for nearly half a year.”

No acting necessary for this part. “What are you talking about? I met him at a club. We arranged a date and he picked me up at—“

“Beth’s dive.”

“…. Yeah. Well.” He’d been there before? So often? And you never noticed…, “That’s news to me, that he had been there for so long, it’s got its regulars though so...” You shifted again, this time with a clear uncomfortable edge. 

“He stopped coming when you stopped singing.”

“….guess he got what he wanted then. A fun time in the swing hall bathroom.”  Anger. Unreal and unfounded. Trying your best to hide how confused you were.

“Sounds like a stalker, miss. Maybe one who woulda been quite unhappy to hear you were selli-,”

You cut him off, eyes snapping up to meet his, “I really recommend you reconsider your wording.”

Brady laughed with a huff, “A man dizzy with a dame can do some funny stuff. Especially if he hears she’s in a pickle.”

“Well, no knight coming to rescue me. I’ve sworn off men. It’s why I’ve been leaving work early. Getting home, reading, sleeping. He really did a number on my heart and my pride as a woman.”

Brady’s pencil stopped moving. 

“And his name?”

You’d never fucking say it. He could walk in on you moaning ‘Alastor’ and you’d still act like you’d never heard that string of syllables in your life. 

“John.”

Brady laughed and tossed the pencil to the table, “Let me guess, last name Doe?”

You shrugged, “We weren’t on a full name basis. He was handsome, he took me out, we fucked, I never saw him again” You delighted in the way his face screwed up at your unladylike language. 

“So, someone in radio named John. You know I’m going to be at every broadcaster talking to every John, right?” The nervous shaking of his notebook again. 

“When you find him let me know.”

“Oh I will.” He said it so quickly, so sharply you could feel it cut at your cheek as the words flew past you.

You pulled your hands into your lap, eyes firmly locked on Brady’s. “You look tired, sir. I hope my answers will help you. So you can rest.”

“I am tired. Of people jerking me around. You won’t give me your address, you don’t remember anyone’s name, not even your own, and you deny having a man I know you have.”

If you screamed would he have you committed? “I’m terribly sorry,” you leaned over the table and pulled a piece of fuzz off his shoulder, “my friend gave you inaccurate and dated information. I am genuinely trying to help as much as I can.”

Upon closer inspection, his eyes were more than just blue. They were dark and light, deep and shallow. Blue so far down it was nearly black. A blue so bright it was a cousin of white. Eyes you were sure would haunt you. 

“Help me then, Autumn.” Your brows rose at the request. He leaned back and away from you, “Just tell me what happened to Tommy. What your guy did. If he was trying to protect your name then we could find a sympathetic jury.”

Sympathy? Your smile was too wide, stare gone too soft. What sympathy did he have or would anyone have for you? Did he think you wanted the tender hearts of strangers? “Tommy ran off with a bag of money. He was a good man with a bad habit. That’s all I know. I have no partner, man or otherwise.”

A standstill. 

Brady felt a twitch in his hands he wasn’t used to. An itch to move. Unlike him, and a little frightening. 

Maybe he had been running himself ragged. 

Back sliding down slightly in his chair, he laced his fingers and rested them in his lap, “You know I’m gonna find out what happened, right?” His tone had shifted to something serious and calm. He said it like he was telling you a secret. Low but firm. Steady and sure. 

Those eyes. No, worse. What was behind them. You could see it clearly; unflappable determination. He absolutely would. 

“I trust you will.” A moment of silence again as you both felt the conversation die. As you stood, Brady did too.

“I wasn’t bluffing about him going to Beth’s for more than half a year now. I don’t know how you think this is gonna end but it won’t end pretty. Whether it was just your boss or all the others on my desk, end it with him and help us bring Tommy home to his mother.”

You adjusted your purse on your shoulder, “I don’t know how many time-,”

“Autumn. I’ve seen enough make up covered bruises to clock em from across the room. That’s the act of a possessive, immature man. Just think about what I said,” You opened the door in an effort to keep your hands from shooting to your neck. “There’s no white picket fence or church bells for you two. He’s a bad man. I think he may even be an evil man. You’re gonna end up hurt, or dead.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest but you managed to stifle it. With an honest smile you replied, “We’re all gonna end up dead someday, Detective. I’ll call if I have any news. Thanks for your concern and … evident hard work.” You offered a little nod of your head before leaving the room and the station as quickly as you could without running. 

When he set down his notebook after returning to his desk, he couldn’t sit. Energy was buzzing in his limbs. He needed to run or swing or pace.

His desk neighbor watched him immediately pick up the notebook again and grab his hat. A few other men shared a glance as Brady rushed out, an unsettling feeling passed among them. 

“He’s still on that case?” One asked quietly, going back to his papers.

“Not officially….” Answered Freeman, standing at the window and watching Brady flag down a taxi.

“North Villere street and Piety, please.” He told the driver, not noticing his friend in the window.

It wasn’t near the station, nor the dance scene. He wondered if your mother would be any more amiable. What kind of woman would raise such a creature as you?

When the car slowed, Brady clicked back into his surroundings. He looked through every window hoping to see something different.

After a long pause the cabbie asked, “Ya gonna get out?”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the seat. “No. Take me back to the station.”

His blood pressure rose so quickly he was sure he would black out as the cab turned around and drove back past the sign; Vincent DePaul cemetery.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor kissed away the worries when he took your bag from you. Every detail of the interview was just hummed away. “Even if he finds me, without a body he has no case.” He reminded you like it was nothing short of fact.

“What if he gets one?”

“Not one of mine, I can assure you. He’d sooner need to kill someone himself and call it my fault.” A pause, was that something the detective would do? He shook off the thought. 

He was so confident that even though you knew it was just skin deep it still gave you a sense of calm. The bodies, where they went after he was done with them in the greenhouse, was the last step he hadn’t shared with you.

There was one thing you didn’t mention about the interrogation. 

You waited until you were a few drinks in, Alastor’s bowtie off and shirt unbuttoned several buttons before bringing it up. Uncharacteristically nervous about how he’d react when you broached the topic, you needed several deep breaths to get up your courage. Normally the idea of offending a man with an honest question wouldn’t ruffle you a bit, but once again there was nothing normal about you and Alastor. He made you so unlike yourself but not necessarily worse. Perhaps some consideration of other’s reactions wasn’t a bad thing. 

“This is awkward to ask.” It was dark already, the sun setting earlier and earlier. The buzz of the kitchen light could be heard through the screen door, the light just enough to let you see each other's features clearly. Leaning back on both hands for support, your legs rested in an unladylike spread down the porch stairs. No shoes. No girdle. No pretense.

Would he be mad? Or maybe offended?

“Brady said you had been going to my Sunday shows for awhile. Months before we actually met. Did you really meet me by coincidence?”

“Or was I stalking you as my next victim?” His head fell to the side, eyes closed and smile wide. “I saw you there, yes. And though you weren’t the best singer, I did enjoy your shows.”

You tried to see him without directly turning your head. 

“But yes, it was a coincidence. I had noticed that brute of a man a couple weeks in a row, staring at you so intensely. Word got around he had made a scene some time ago with a dancer.” 

You listened like someone was telling you your own story. It was an odd feeling, hearing someone recount your days from a different perspective. An unknown one. 

“I was surprised to see you at the theater when I followed him there. Even more so to see you in the alleyway.”

If he had said it wasn’t a coincidence, you genuinely didn’t know what you’d have done. You’d be scared and angry. Another predator lurking just past the tree lines.

Your relief must have been visible. “He really got to you, didn’t he?” Alastor asked, leaning over and letting his shoulder bump into yours. He was still riding the high of putting away your belongings in his closet and drawers. 

“Yeah. He gives me a bad feeling. Like…a brick wall barreling toward me.” You kicked a leaf off the steps, “Or like, when you see a big dark cloud on the horizon. Can’t do anything but wait and hunker down.”

How do you wait out a storm so set on burying you?

“Dear,” his hands rose and palms flipped up in a way that said he wasn’t hiding anything, “We get hurricanes annually. We’ve survived every one thus far. He’s just a drip. A sprinkle of a man.”

People have drowned on land before. A sprinkle could lead to pneumonia and that could lead to a wooden box. 

He tried to change the topic, laughing about Brenda’s reaction to the call and making plans for an evening out when things settled down again. You listened, but it was your turn to be half there. 

You could barely muster concern when you realized you’d forgotten your makeup and hair wrap at home when you were preparing for bed. What you would give for going home barefaced with a ruined hairdo to be the biggest stress of your week. 

The distance in your stare was weighing down his joy, how could he relish in the newest addition to his home when you were so burdened? Even in the moonless night he could see the faintest light reflecting off your eyes as you stared at the ceiling. Did you even feel his stare? 

He couldn’t let Brady poison his bed, and the man was clearly there now. Chasing you in your mind still. 

“Could I offer you a distraction?” Alastor slipped up against you, hand finding your hip. He could see your smile forming. 

“I wouldn’t argue against a distraction…,” you’d beg for one if you didn’t want to feel any lower than you already did. 

“Perfect. This bed isn’t made for three, so let’s eject that little nag, dear.” His hands slipped down your legs, “I want to replace your thoughts with better ones.” He pulled you to him, your back pressed into his broad chest. The way his soft hands smoothed over your silk slip felt like foreplay, so smooth and slick. Frictionless and gentle. Those same hands ran down and between your legs, following the line of your thighs until they found your center. “It seems you forgot something else.” Two fingers caressed your lower lips, barely parting them, “Not that I’m complaining…,” his lips found the back of your neck as his fingers rubbed gently at your core. 

It took so very little to get your body on board, wet and relaxed for his practiced hand. Your own fingers coming down to rub at your clit quickly when you felt your pleasure winding up. 

He sighed directly into the shell of your ear, hands working in tandem with yours under the covers. His back pressed against you, hips rolling into your backside in time with his fingers. 

“What are you thinking about?” Barely above a whisper as he said it into your heated skin.

“Fingers.”

“Whose?” His voice was deeper than his usual speaking tone. A tenor that made you clench around him.

“Yours.”

You’d never been so satisfied with hands before. With breath. With the sounds of a man. Never saw stars while clothed and not under the lights of the stage. Warm and wet kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, you’d never considered sex could be more than a man fucking someone. Nor that a man could find pleasure so readily with his cock still in his pants. But the way he hummed and growled softly into your skin was proof of his good time. 

You’d learned a lot from those progressively chillier nights at Alastor’s over the first week of your constant cohabitation. How much you liked waking up with someone just a reach away. How Alastor woke slowly, incapable of coherent speech for at least the first twenty minutes of his day. He’d stare and smile as his eyes blinked out of sync, rolling back occasionally as he fought the urge to fall back into sleep. Hair disheveled and soft.

When the weekend came, Alastor offered again to take you out. A promise to take you somewhere no detectives would be hiding about. A week without a peep, you were sure he had followed up with your mother and was probably steaming to get at you. But, for some reason or another, he hadn’t appeared again in the crowd of your shows. 

A week of going into work unmade and unkempt, you finally gave in and asked to be taken to your apartment early Friday. You’d grab a few items you needed, take them to work, and be back home that night. 

Your eyes were on Alastor when his car pulled up to your building. When he kissed you, your hand scratched at the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck. Eyes closed, you could smell him and feel him so much clearer. Perhaps when you were old together you wouldn’t have to worry about your sight giving out, you thought. Because you’d always know it was him by the way his skin on yours lit you up. 

“Pack something you’d like to wear out tomorrow night.” He reminded you before you pulled yourself from the car and waved him off. You lingered for a moment as he drove away, wondering if maybe the storm had been pushed off course.

“Oooh, who is he?”

Whipping around, you saw a familiar face sitting on the stoop of your building. An unwelcome one, though. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Mavis?” Your bag fell from your hands as the strength drained from your limbs.

She patted the dust off her dress before bouncing down the steps.  “The names Ephi now.” A half sister, though perhaps a quarter sister would be best to describe the often absentminded, when not literally absent, sibling. 

“That’s not a name that’s a fucking letter of the alphabet. Mama would smack the color of your cheeks if she heard you.” You were sure you’d not see her ever again, not after she ran off to head north before your mother passed. She scowled, arms crossed as you brushed past her. “I don’t have any money so you wasted a trip. See ya in another decade.”

Ephi grinned up at you as you climbed the stairs, “Looked like he had some money. Mr. Big Shot and his shiny bus.”

“Lotsa people have cars.” Your eyes landed on the suitcase poorly hidden behind the steps. Hand halting its search for the building key as you could feel the stare of your mother looking…down? A weight slipping over your shoulders like a man’s heavy winter coat.

“Well I don’t need money or cars. I need a place to crash.”

Your head fell. You could feel it coming. The gust of wind dragging the clouds slowly towards you. No, the storm wasn’t off course. It was just building momentum.

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[6okuto]

Hi dear I have and idea for touch starved ais and vere.

WHAT IF- what if the reader (MC) is like a single parent?????

Mc's like a mild or dilf or something like that?!

AIS AND VERE WITH A SINGLE PARENT

gn!mc | meow. this (doing old reqs) is my parting gift(?)..

VERE

his ear flicks up when mc mentions their kid for the first time. where are they? why are you here? who's the other parent?

not a guy who spends time around kids. probably not a guy who should spend time around kids /hj what swear words and scary stories will he share...

^ tbf he also gives some solid life advice, even if it's a bit blunt, or something the kid doesn't understand just yet

if mc's kid is witty / snarky he finds them amusing (especially if it's at mc) and easier to be around! whether that's good for mc or not is not up to mc Lmao

it varies depending on mc's relationship with their kid but if mc's kid is grown up, vere is more of his usual self. swearing, analyzing them, taunting them, etc.

vere never thought of himself as a possible father-figure. or even like, a fun uncle. but he likes mc, and despite his complaints or denial, has grown a little fond of their child.

^ possible angst if vere's like, do you really want to be with me? am i the role model you want them to have in their life? i'm chained up for god's sake etc

gets soft/quiet when mc talks to him about their kid. he sees the fondness in their expression, and even if he can't really relate, he can still sympathize

would make a couple pilf...? jokes. sorry. it isn't necessary though. he does enough flirting and innuendos that the pilf(?) thing doesn't come up that often

brings up their kid when mc is about to do something dangerous or stupid, when they succeed at said dangerous or stupid thing, or when their kid also tries doing something dangerous and or stupid. "well it's no surprise who you got your confidence from."

vere questioning mc's parenting tactics LOL. mc is like And what do you know about parenting and vere's like. enough to judge yours. they find common ground eventually

AIS

really doubles down on his warnings about the seaspring when he finds out they're a parent. he doesn't have to know how old, what their relationship is like, etc—he's already asking how much they're willing to risk and telling them to think about their kid

otherwise he doesn't really treat mc differently—they're a grown and capable adult, and being a parent doesn't change or weaken that

ais would pick his pets over hanging out with a kid, but he doesn't give himself enough credit with how well he can get along with one

if mc's kid is old enough that he can play pranks on mc with them. well. he will. mc looks at the both of them and they both shrug like What? it wasn't us? (the kid is grinning and giggling but ais keeps it together for the both of them.)

if there's an opportunity to introduce them to princess / whoever else, he will! like look at this sweet girl, you don't have to be scared. you wanna try getting her to sit and roll around?

babysits if needed, takes them out for the day (if only to keep them away from the seaspring). they get some food and he comes up with exaggerated stories for each shop the kid points out

mc's kid who's old enough for ais to teach them some self defense after they walk in on him taking care of injuries from a bar fight. mc who walks in on them and goes ?!?!?!

mc vents about their parenting troubles, and ais isn't sure if his leadership advice/experience is totally applicable to taking care of a child, but surely some of it is? he tries to help anyway

i can see their kid opening up to ais about things that worry them tbh. he's got that vibe. depending on what it is, ais might suggest to mc something they should do, or try to help himself

similar to vere, he likes mc and their child but he wants them to think about what's best for them—if that includes him in the picture. like yes he'll do his best, but he can't blame them if things don't work out. honestly he might try to cut things off firstdjdjshd

[ratcate]

I'm here to admit that I may have developed a hyper fixation on your OCs (especially on Zerion and Sir. Valentine) so can you perhaps tell us more about them? (And other OCS)

oh hey!! great selection of characters. Makes me really happy you wanting to know more about them! I love them a lot, but Sir Valentine more, as Zerion's personality and setting is pretty nebulous still. info about them both under read more!

Zerion is some sort of cartoony super villain, heavily inspired in the night of the bald mountain monster interpretation from Fantasia(disney)

(art from 2020)

I think he's a very strong dark mage or something. Right now I have him reduced to a joke. A cartoony villain living his slice of life, but always awaiting action, the smallest spark chaos, to join in, in a world where nothing ever happens. He has his sidekick, Vampina (I think that was her name). A vampire chick who lives in the moment and is Zerion's servant, as long as he provides him with some blood every now and then

(2023)

(2021)

she almost never pulls off that relaxed smile from her face, her brain usually has no thoughts more than "can i eath this?" "I can eat this" Both of them are pretty evil. I remember once i tried to sketch out a first chapter, where they had a visit of income tax department agents, coming to remind Zerion he hadn't paid his taxes, and both Zerion and Vampina made a whole intricate plan on how to get rid of them and torture them, to show the government they're not to be fucked with. Though, all their scare tactics were just confusing, failed magic tricks for the men, now tied to apparent non functioning electric chairs, looking at each other through their sunglasses, stoic faces, while confused to what Zerion is yapping about in his villain monologue, while Vampina eats a stale bread in the BG. ---------------------------------------------------------

I don't have much about Sir Valentine either, but I certainly have drawn him more. For now, His name is Sir Cannon Valentine, but we'll get to that in a bit.

(both from 2020)

This is the first art ever I made of him, and that's a lot of his vibe. (2019)

This MAN, is some warrior who died in his armor but is back by some whack magic, and he's impatient, easily irritated, screams instead of talking, and I've always imagined having him a strong accent. He's here to fight and go headfirst into everything bc he really cannot die.

As of 2024, Sir Valentine is Sir Cannon Valentine (you can still call him the first version), BECAUSE, besides him being reborn and inmortal, angry and ready to fucking obliterate anything in his way, now his body works as a canonball

He went through my manic episode of redesigning many of my characters, after getting a taste of Pizza tower's cartoony characters, and became this. Much more functional, easily drawn, flowy. he just works, i can animate him in a snap of fingers. Still consistenly working to improve his design even more.

I will probs change the story, but this guy is resucitated as a last resort for a war between kingdoms, as a mistake, bc they wanted to revive some other guy, but got mistaken and went to his thomb. This guy revived him, after a ritualistic dance and some lightning

and then he is like "oh wait I fucked up", and Valentine is like "TOO LATE BITCH I'M FREE!!" and blasts away from him, as a cannonball, fueled by his own fire and methane gas from the catacombs he is in lol. This story is very not much constructed, but I love Sir Valentine a lot, and the characters I can surround him with. I see him falling for a bourgeoisie woman, or a princess even, bc all my stories need the romance, I'm nothing without the romance. I am also thinking of including another character of mine, Sayen, as the daughter of this death guy

Sayen previously appeared as a participant in a nsfw comic in my twt alt account lol. I love her and her design very much.

[cxtori]

word count: 2, 998

series masterlist

playlist: spotify youtube

Underground ~ Missio Choke ~ IDKHBTFM Play With Fire ~ Sam Tinnesz Red ~ Delaney Jane

tori's note: alright! first real chapter. might be a rough start but at least i got there lol. let the story begin

“Ugh, I am so sick of this!” You yell to yourself as you pull your foot out of a thick, muddy puddle, the third one you’ve accidentally stepped in today. Who knew Yokohama alleyways were so full of mud. And who knew wearing your good boots would be a bad idea. You certainly didn’t.

You scrape your shoe on the “clean” pavement, trying to get off as much mud as possible. Of all days for Dazai to disappear again. He was supposed to be dragging through this sketchy part of town, not you.

You sigh and continue your walk down the alley, looking for any left over evidence of suspicious activity. You’ve been here for about an hour already with no luck, and you were beginning to question if the reported gun smuggling was even occurring here.

You pause to pull out your phone and type a text to Kunikida saying you can’t find anything. You’re just about to hit send when a thin, cold object is suddenly pressed to your throat, making your movements freeze.

You laugh lightly, despite the action having made your heart skip a beat. You don’t even have to turn to know who it is.

“Haha, that’s your favorite little scare tactic, isn’t it?” You say, completely unfazed by the threat. “I’m honored you felt the need to use it on me.” The person behind you says nothing, only presses the blade closer to your flesh.

“That’s enough, Gin,” a deep voice echoes from the end of the dark alleyway. You hear footsteps approach as Gin removes her knife from your throat, stepping around you to stand beside the man in front of you.

“The Black Lizard. Must be my lucky day running into the two of you at the same time,” you say, gently rubbing the place on your neck where the cold blade rested on your skin. “I’m sure you’re equally as happy to see me.”

“And I’m sure you’re aware that you’re trespassing on Port Mafia territory,” Hirotsu says with a chillingly calm voice. “Fortunately, I’m in a good mood today. Give me a good reason and I may even allow you to leave with your limbs intact.”

“How kind of you,” you laugh dryly. Of all of the Mafia members to bump into while you’re alone, why did it have to be them? “Trust me, I’m aware this is your turf. I have no interest in picking a fight, okay? In fact, I was just on my way out.”

You take a few steps back, putting a bit of distance between you. Hirotsu watches you carefully as he debates whether or not he should let you leave. As he said, he needs a good reason.

“Buuut, I do think you’d like to know that there is likely some serious gun smuggling going on in this part of town.” Hirotsu hums inquisitively and narrows his eyes at you.

“How do you know?”

“We’ve been looking into it for a few days. I was just the unlucky one sent to see if I could find anything.” There’s movement in the shadows of the alley behind the two mafiosos, and your attentions drifts over to it.

Your gaze is met with a pair of golden-amber eyes, his brows creased as he frowns. He’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his sharp gaze focused on you.

“I’ve never seen you before,” you muse with a sly smile. “Has the mafia claimed a new soul?”

“I’ve been around,” he replies simply. And it’s quite possible he has. It’s not like you’re well versed on all Port Mafia members.

“Did you happen to get any information?” Hirotsu asks, pulling your attention back to him.

“Nope! Not a thing. They must be familiar with the area. I haven’t been able to find any signs of suspicious activity.”

A thought occurs to you, realizing that maybe you can dump this job onto them. And if it was on “their turf”, it’d make sense that they would get involved. They could handle it a lot faster than you could anyways.

“I’m not too familiar with this part of town myself. You’d probably have much better luck with telling if something is out of the norm.”

Hirotsu remains quiet, thoughtful concentration on his face as he considers the situation. After a moment of his silence, you take it as your chance to leave.

“Well then, I’ll be on my way. Good luck!” You say and begin walking away from the trio.

“Wait,” Hirotsu says and your feet stop as well as your heart. “Tachihara. Go with her and see what you find. Take her through the common Mafia routes and report back to me once you’re done.”

You whip around to look at the older gentleman.

“What!” You and the younger man, Tachihara, exclaim in unison.

“Why me?” Tachihara asks, pushing himself off the wall

“Consider it ‘rookie’s privilege’,” Hirotsu replies, referring to your comment from earlier.

“Oh, very funny, gramps. Send Gin.” In response, Gin gives him a deathly cold glare, but the look doesn’t make him shrink away, he only glares back.

“Gin has important matters to attend to,” Hirotsu says, dismissing the suggestion.

“Umm,” you start, the cool confidence you’d held beginning to slip away. This was not going how you intended it to. “Okay, but why do you want me to go?”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to handle it? I don’t believe our methods will be as reasonable as those of the Detective Agency.”

Point taken. The Port Mafia’s way of handling the smugglers would likely end in death and chaos. You’d rather not be part of the reason such an incident occurred.

“Now go,” he says, looking back at a glowering Tachihara.

Tachihara growls a “fine”, not attempting to press any further. And if he’s not protesting, then neither will you. That plan backfired. What did you just get yourself into?

Hirotsu and Gin start walking away, leaving you and Tachihara behind. Hirotsu stops and turns back to the young man, a deathly cool expression on his face.

“And, Tachihara. Please, keep out of trouble.”

This was… weird, to say the least.

Walking in complete silence through dark and sketchy city alleyways with a Port Mafia member who, by all accounts, has no true obligation to not kill you. If any of the agency members had any idea what you were doing…

If Akiko had any idea what you were doing, well, being killed by a mafioso would be the least of your concerns.

In a sense, you’re lucky it was the Black Lizard. From what you understood, they don’t typically take action without being provoked. And even then, they won’t do so outside of direct orders. It could have been Akutagawa, who likely would’ve killed you on the spot without bothering to ask questions.

You glance at the boy beside you, taking a longer look at him. The more you study him, the more you reluctantly realize that he is very attractive. His sharp jawline, angled eyes, dry yet soft looking lips, umber red hair that you were sure was dyed, and those piercings?

You know you shouldn’t be fawning over him, but you can’t help it. Hate the mafia or not, he was cute, you couldn’t deny that. But underneath it all, there was a sense of familiarity in his features that you couldn’t quite place.

You must have seen him before. Afterall, the Agency and Port Mafia run into each other all the time. You probably saw him in a group of mafiosos while being shot at. That’s definitely what it was.

“There a reason you’re starin’ so hard?” He asks suddenly, his tone dripping with annoyance. He looks over at you out of the corner of his eye.

Busted. Though it’s not like you were being very subtle.

“No, sorry. You just…” Your words drift off before you finish your thought, catching yourself before you admit why you were staring. What were you going to say? He’s nice to look at? He’s attractive for a mafia member? You recognize him from that time he tried to kill you and your friends? None of these are great options, so you keep your mouth shut.

“What’s that around your neck?” He asks and you glance down.

Your dog tag. You grab it and quickly shove it into your shirt, out of his view.

“None of your business,” you snip, a bit harsher than necessary.

“Whatever,” he mutters and looks away from you. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to be the type to press for answers. And that’s fine by you. The less personal this is, the better.

You fall back into silence as you continue your walk. You’ve been through various alleys and have still found nothing. You’re beginning to wonder if Tachihara knew what he was doing, even though he insisted he knew of some good places to check.

You’ve grown impatient and irritable. You just want to go home, maybe find Dazai, and give him a piece of your mind on his shirking responsibilities. You don’t care how much it’ll make you sound like Kunikida, you’re tired of taking on his work.

All you have to do is say goodbye to this mafia guy and be on your way. He probably won’t even argue, he’s likely just as fed up with this as you are.

You’re opening your mouth to do just that when he grabs your wrist and pulls you into a side alley, and you force yourself to hold in a scream as your body flinches at his touch.

Before you can process it, he’s pressing you against the wall, his arms trapping you against the cold brick. But he’s not looking at you, instead he’s glancing over his shoulder, sharp eyes watching the main alleyway.

“What the hell are you-”

“Shh!” he clamps a hand over your mouth and you feel your blood boil. No way he just shushed you and physically shut your mouth. The only thing that keeps you from thrashing against him is the sound of feet shuffling towards you.

You peek over his shoulder to see a group of men, who are definitely not a part of the mafia, coming down the alley.

“Boss said he wants the package delivered to customer 13 by midnight,” a gruff voice speaks. “As soon as we get back, make sure it’s packed and ready to go, ‘kay?”

There are a few muffled replies of confirmation.

“And for the last time, James, stop taking the easy routes. You bump into even one cop, one, and we’re done. Don’t make me say it again.”

Another man, who must be James, gives a huffy “yeah, yeah” in reply.

The men’s conversation continues as they walk past you and out of the alley. Package, customer 13, easy routes, avoiding cops? They must be who you’re looking for, and Tachihara seems to think the same.

He remains close even after the men have long gone, his hand still unnecessarily pressed over your mouth. You take in a breath through your nose, the bitter smell of musk and cedarwood assaulting your senses. You tug your head away enough for his hand to fall off, but he doesn’t move from you, his eyes still glued on the spot where the men just stood.

“Get off me!” you growl, placing your hands firm against his chest and shoving him back. You begin brushing yourself off and straightening your clothes.

“Jeez. You could have just told me people were coming. I would’ve kept quiet. Caging me against the wall was overdramatic.” Tachihara gives you an unamused huff.

“Listen here, detective, I’m not-”

“My name is Y/n,”

“Fine, Y/n. I’m not lettin’ you get hurt while we’re out here.”

“Oh, how chivalrous of you,” you snark, which earns you a sharp glare.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he says and stalks toward you, stopping just short of you. You don’t step back despite him being so close. Rather, you straighten your shoulders and look him dead in the eyes. You were not going to let him intimidate you.

“I’m only doing it to save my own ass. The old man would kill me if something happened.” You remember what the older Black Lizard member said.

“Keep out of trouble.”

Well, he certainly didn’t mean “don’t beat up any trespassers” with that order. Violence is par for the course with the Port Mafia, generally expected at that. Hirotsu must have meant don’t get in trouble with you. Tachihara’s next words confirm your thoughts.

”The last thing we need is a war with the Detective Agency and I’m not going to be the cause of it.”

You let out a huff and turn on your heels, breaking the long stretch of eye contact. You begin making your way down the alley again, planning to follow those men in hopes of getting a bit more information.

“I’m fully capable of handling myself,” you say casually. “Thanks for the effort though.” You hear him sigh heavily as he starts to follow you.

“I’m only trying to help.”

“I thought you were just ‘covering your ass’.”

“I am.”

“I don’t feel those two things coincide.”

“Really now?”

“Yes, really.”

Tachihara grunts annoyedly, but you remain with the last word.

The two of you continue your walk in silence, the air between you holding an obnoxious tension.

Despite how aggravated you are with your current situation, you have to admit that he isn’t nearly as bad as you would expect a mafia member to be. Especially for someone who is a part of the Black Lizard.

At least he hasn’t tried to kill you yet. He’s done just the opposite at that, even though his methods pissed you off. You wonder how you’re going to explain this temporary alliance to the others.

You eventually start hearing voices echoing through the alley. You slow your steps and move closer to the wall as you continue forward, cautiously coming to the end of the pathway.

Tachihara steps around you and pokes his head around the corner, finding a group of men shuffling their way into an old warehouse building. You look around and notice an old, rusty fire escape that leads all the way up to the roof of the alleyway building.

You tug on Tachihara’s jacket, bringing his attention to you. You point to the fire escape and then to the rooftop, silently sharing your plan. He nods and follows you when you make your way to the metal stairway.

You take a breath and carefully place a foot on the first step, hoping it doesn’t cry out with a loud creak. Thankfully, it doesn’t, and you continue your ascension, Tachihara close behind.

You get to the roof and walk to the edge where the warehouse sits beside it. As you thought, the roof of the massive storage building isn’t too far below you. You jump down onto it, impressively making very little noise in doing so. Tachihara hops down after you, also managing to keep his landing unassuming.

You both crawl to the skylight window to take a glance into the warehouse. You peer inside, seeing about 20 men doing various tasks. Some shutting and taping boxes, some loading boxes onto trucks, others standing around and talking. Tachihara, however, is looking at you.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye before bringing your attention back to the smugglers.

“‘Is there a reason you’re staring so hard?’,” you ask, quoting his words from earlier.

“Just didn’t expect someone from the ADA to be good at this,” he says and moves his gaze to the men below you.

“We’re not police. And obviously we have to investigate things somehow.”

He gives a noncommittal hum as he focuses on the buzzing activity. Your attention is caught by a couple men carrying a large, wooden box off of one of the trucks. They pry it open with a crowbar and, not to your surprise, start to lift guns of all sizes from the box.

“Ranpo was right. Shocker,” you say, and pull out your phone to snap some pictures. “This should be enough to get the cops on their asses.”

You slink away from the skylight and make your way to the edge of the building, trying to figure out the best way down.

“Maybe hold off on reporting this to your superiors,” you say over your shoulder. “I’d rather not be held partially responsible if any ‘accidents’ occur.” Tachihara gives you a look.

“Do you really think I’ll listen to you?”

“No, but it was worth asking,” you reply halfheartedly.

Looking around the rooftop, you spot a ladder on the back side of the warehouse. How convenient for you. You head over to it and glance over the edge to make sure the coast is clear. Once you’re sure none of the men will see you, you start to climb down the rungs.

You hop off the last few before looking up to see Tachihara climbing down as well. Once he makes it to the ground, you decide it’s finally time to say your goodbyes. Thank heavens.

“Well, I got what I need and you don’t need to babysit me anymore. See ya,” you say with a wave and walk away from him.

“What makes you think you’ll be seeing me again?” Tachihara comments with a bit of a snark. You call over your shoulder to answer him, not stopping your pace.

“Unfortunately for us, the Port Mafia and ADA run into each other all the time. I’m sure I’ll see you in a month or so. Later!”

Tachihara watches as you walk away, never once turning to look back at him. Thinking back on your interaction, he comes to the same conclusion you did.

You were annoying. A bit bratty even. But, all things considered, you weren’t the worst.

And he couldn’t believe he was admitting that.

Taglist: @chuuminn

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate any of my works. reblogs are appreciated

[rhodesrider]

Walk All Over

Dom! Dominic M. x Brat!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight NSFW Mentions, Brattiness, talking back, clicker punishment, slight manipulative tactics, mentions of poly relationship (But focused on Dom lol)

Minors DNI

~

“You want me to do what?”

Dominic was trying to enjoy a sandwich in peace while sitting in the living room watching tv. But soon Rhea and Damien had to talk to him for a bit about a little miss someone’s behavior towards them. “We want you to stand up for yourself more to pumpkin.” Damien said a bit irritated. Dominik looked at Rhea and she nodded agreeing with him. “You’re her Dom as well, and you shouldn’t let her walk all over you.” Dom then finished his bite putting the sandwich down. “I feel like you guys are over exaggerating. Shes not that bad to me.” Rhea and Damien both looked at him with a doubting glare. “Well, remember earlier?” Damien asked.

Earlier that day, Y/N walked down the stairs and walked past Dominik and grabbed some Ice cream from the freezer, but Dominik made her lunch while the rest were out and about. “Hey Y/N put that back I made you lunch.” Dominik spoke. She looked at him with a unamused look, “No thanks I want something sweet.” She started to open the ice cream pint, and Dominik took the spoon out her hand. “Put it back, last chance.” “Or? Be a snitch and tell mama?” She smirked and looked at him up and down. Sizing him up. “Maybe.” He tried to keep eye contact and show that he’s in charge, but one little issue, he’s a switch. Hell most of the time he gets treatments from Rhea when he’s not on his best behavior, same as Y/N. “Pumpkin it’s just you need to eat your lunch..” “Please Dommi?Just a few bites?” She pouted as she gave him the sweetest eyes, batting her eyes some, Dominik caving in slowly. “Ok ok go ahead but after you eat lunch. Please I don’t feel like hearing their mouth.” Dom groaned. She kissed his cheek and ran with the ice cream to enjoy her frozen treat. She soon swindled into more and more and then the lunch went cold, her not wanting to eat it at all.

~

“Ok it was just a lunch time. If won’t happen again.” He muttered. “Dom she got away with a lot of that with you, we watch and listen. She’s gonna keep taking advantage of your kindness.” Damien voiced. “No she doesn’t..” Dom was a bit hurt. “She does honey, doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you it’s more she’s smart. How do you think we survive her?” Rhea smirked. “Remember when she tried Finn the other day?” Dom remembers that plain as day,

Finn is not a force to mess with. “Finny can I-“ “Munchkin if it’s about any snacks that you’ve already had, you know the answer.” He said sharply with a smile reading and not even looking at her. She sighed and she stormed off but soon heard a familiar click. His counter, right in his hand as he heard the movements that changed. “You stomping off doesn’t get you anything you want.” He reminded her. She was steaming mad, but swallowed her pride and walked away quietly not to cause another click or two. Finn just smiled and went back to his activity.

“That clicker has always been an issue for her. Shes scared of it.” Damien smirked. “We use that as an advantage as well.” Rhea smiled. “I don’t know guys I’m not that…you know..” he mumbled. “It’s either you start putting your foot down or else Dom Dom.” Rhea made it clear. She didn’t want her just stepping all over Dom and take advantage of him. “Ok..” he said and she kissed him on his forehead. “Good boy.” Damien rolled his eyes and they both walked away so he could finish his food. He sat there and bit his lip really thinking on the times where he would find himself weak because of her tactics. Honest, he didn’t like to see her cry or upset. But he didn’t wanna seem like a softy when there’s times he wants to be dominate.

It was soon the next day, and Dom was on alert for anything shenanigans Y/N had in store. Rhea was off to the gym, Damien and Finn are out getting stuff for tonight’s dinner so him and Y/N was by theirselves. Y/N came down stairs and scanned the room slow, no sign of the others, but dear lil Dom. She smirked and she sighed getting down the stairs, grabbing the remote and sitting on Dom. “Was watching tv.” He sighed. “So? I wanna watch.” She smirked and changed the channel. Dom was already irritated but this seemed like her pushing buttons then her just being hardheaded. “Oh I remember I had some left over ice cream in the freezer!” She smiled and bounced off him going to the freezer. “You need to ask me first.” She blinked stopping mid tracks before even touching the door to the freezer. She looked at Dom behind her and smiled. “I have to do what?” “Ask me. You know it’s almost time for lunch-“ “I don’t care. I never cared. But I have a sweet tooth. So imma get me some ice cream.” She said bluntly. She touched back around and soon a sound haunted her.

Click

“Close it.”

She peeked seeing that Finn gave Dom his counter. It was tense in the kitchen, she looked directly at the counter. She can’t snatch it out his hand, he’s just gonna add. More and more clicks for Finn to see. More of blindfolds and denied orgasms, privileges taken, she heard another click and got nervous. It was dangerously close to 10. “Last chance pumpkin, close it.” Dom saw how an arrogant little brat she was, then this submissive “Oh I’m in trouble.” Face he honest saw adorable. She closed the freezer not breaking eye contact with the clicker. “Now, you will wait till they get back with food. Then you ask. Understood?” His voice bellowed and carried in the house. She slightly jumped. Her eyes started to water, and Dom saw the tear but stood his ground. “But Dommi-“ “I don’t want to hear it. You have to give me some respect too. Rather you like it or not.” Her tears cleared fast seeing he wasn’t breaking and she rolled her eyes in anger. Alligator tears. He added another click and she snapped her neck back to it as it was firm in Dom’s hand. “The eye roll wasn’t necessary. Just a yes sir will suffice.” Her nose wrinkled some but she was so close to 10 clicks she couldn’t risk it. “…Yes sir…” she said and he nodded. “Go sit down.” She walked away sitting in her comfy corner pissed.

Dominik kept the look on his face, but inside he was so excited. She listened to him for once, was didn’t cave in and show any weakness. He sat back watching tv soon having a wave of guilt over him glancing here and there to Y/N. But he had to keep his ground. He sighed in relief as he heard the door and everyone coming in, any longer and he would have caved. “Hey guys, what’s up with Princess?” Rhea asked, Finn picked up the counter and saw two more clicks were added. “Hm seems like someone was being a little shit.” She just rolled her eyes from the teasing. “Dom you handled her?” Damien asked curious. He nodded blushing a bit as Rhea was smiling at him proud. “Good job Dom Dom.” She kissed his cheek and went to the kitchen getting out some ice cream. “Here babygirl.” She smirked and got up getting the ice cream with led Dom confused. “It was a test. You passed.” Damien laughed. “And thank you Princess for helping us out, we know you aren’t that much trouble baby~” Damien cooed and kissed her all over making her giggle. Dom just sighed at the shenanigans. “You guys are a lot to deal with…” “You love us dummy.” Rhea giggled. Y/N went over and kissed him as her own reward. “You did good dommi.” Dom smiled and kissed her back.

[padfootastic]

please say more about jilypad + diverging parenting styles... perhaps even a possible scenario >:) i imagine harry has very cunning tactics for using this to his advantage

helloooooo <3 thank u for this ask bc i love talking about these three and harry. i went looking thru the archives to find this post; my first foray into this side, and really, i’ve never looked back after that.

so i’ve talked ab this a bit before but i fully think that james was a very overprotective ‘mother hen’ type parent. i tend to read his behaviour in lily’s bday letter to sirius as being scared of his child on a broomstick and i fully, fully think he’ll never be able to let go of that as harry grows up. he’ll be anxious and suspicious and paranoid, and his first instant will always be to wrap harry up in cotton wool and hide him away. (i low-key connect this to his childhood as well; going from being spoiled and sheltered to dropped in the middle of a war, black & white thinking, living in extremes etc etc makes it v hard for him to be Normal about his child. as he shouldn’t be, really, but yeah) that’s why he thrives during the initial years; he never minds the hard parts of being a new parent, loves it in fact, and it makes it better that he can keep harry close to him at all times w/o coming off as a helicopter parent (not that the notion bothers him ofc).

it’s good, then, that he has two partners to even the scales, no? i think lily was the most…balanced out of the three. she had a relatively normal childhood, grew up in a working class family/neighbourhood and had to deal w adversity from a young age so she’s developed a nice, thick skin. she also has a sibling with whom she has a v rocky relationship so she knows that kids are, ykno, a bit unhinged. and a little bit of hardship is not a problem. i hc her as needing time to get used to parenthood, unlike james who stepped into it natural as breathing, or even sirius who loved harry on much on first sight that it made up for everything else. ofc lily loved her son, but it didn’t come w the same blinding intensity of her partners and made her feel really shitty in the beginning. but, i think she’d shine during his teen years actually, because she’s not overbearing or intense and becomes the quiet, calm strength that a hormonal, spotty teen boy would probably need.

and sirius <3 our poor baby falls in love with harry, perhaps even more quickly than james, with such startling speed that it shakes his entire foundation. he doesn’t regret it but he’s constantly discombobulated. i also imagine that…it takes him longer to settle into the role of parent, esp bc he’s not biologically one ykno? not like it matters to anyone, ofc, but it takes him a long time to truly accept his authority and place, to believe that he has just as much right as j&l to be there, to parent harry. this has the consequence of him always being more indulgent than the other two; after all, he considered himself a godfather before a parent and a lot of that thinking stayed. he lets harry get away with stuff the others might not (and the little mf figures this out later); some of it also comes from sirius seeing so much shit, and facing so much shit himself, that he rationalises a lot of stuff as ‘well, this isn’t the worst it can be, so what’s the harm’ (because his life has been such a roller coaster that he’s forgotten that not everyone’s like that, if that makes sense?)

its obviously not this clear cut but i imagine harry looks at it like this: if he needs unconditional love, he goes to james; rationality and logic, lily; acceptance and calm, sirius. when someone has to be beat up for hurting harry, james steps in. if he needs help burying a body, it’s sirius. dealing with some asshole boss/teacher/classmate’s mother who’s making harry’s life hell? lily. i can keep going but,,,u get the idea, right? this makes sense, i hope lol

i actually think harry’s first birthday is a great example. sirius pushes the boundaries by gifting lil harry a broom; james loses his mind running after him; lily places an industrial sticking charm on harry’s butt, leans back with a glass of wine, and enjoys the show. even as he grows up, lily and james act as the disciplinarian, and sirius is the emotional outlet. all of them fill in each other’s cracks so well, and it’s only when harry grows up that he realises how effortlessly they worked off each other to parent him.

also oh man o man. harry being cunning is,,,,,see, i’ve not considered it this far but it makes perfect sense. i think canon harry actually had so much manipulative energy and it’s often overlooked for his goofier traits but! this is the same dude who used his dead parents to trick slughorn into revealing sensitive info! imagine if that could be channelled into his jilypad interactions 😈

it’s like, it takes him a bit, because his three parents r so smooth, but once he realises that all of them have certain weak spots, he does NOT hesitate to exploit them. (it has the unintended consequence of truly strengthening the jilypad relationship into an unbreakable one bc one thing their kid taught them is to have ironclad communication going at all times so nothing they’ve said, or not said, is used against them). so like, he knows if he wants to sneak out to a party, it has to be sirius and in a specific way—‘i’ll be totally safe, papa, plus i really wanna see what it’s like and idk when it’ll get a chance to again’. if he widens his eyes to pitiful levels, pouts a little, and blinks faster than usual, then james is putty in his arms as long as he’s separated from the other two. divide and conquer becomes the main tool in harry’s arsenal, actually. lily’s the toughest nut to crack, purely bc she doesn’t run on emotions or irreverence, but harry soon learns that if he comes up with a solid, logical case that proves his argument has unbiased merit then he has a good chance of getting her to say yes. (this is good, bc u can arrange words in the correct order, but u can’t always control emotions)

so overall yeah, you’d think one kid + 3 parents would be an easy bet, but harry keeps them on their toes all the fkn time.

[igncrxntripley]

So I have a bunch of storm coming in. I don't know if you are comfortable can I have a female who has a fear of thunder and Rhea Ripley "comforting" female!reader by making reader focusing on Rhea?

headcanons: thunderstorms

a/n: making this into headcanons bc i haven't done any for rhea yet, also i hope this is what you were looking for!!

mentions: SFW, fear of thunderstorms, mentions of thunder/rain/wind, use of rhea's real name, reader’s gender isn’t specific

taglist: @ripleyswhore @babybatlover @thesithdiaries @auburnwrites @neptune-lover @i-have-issues-lol @ares-athena @bunnysmyname

demi wasn't scared of much - she threw herself through tables and hit people for a living, she didn't have time to be scared of something like a thunderstorm; but she knows when her partner is scared of something and she immediately is going to jump into action to make things better.

with the changing seasons and temperamental weather, thunderstorms were getting to be a more common ocurrence and were your actual nightmare. they were so loud and scary, and sometimes it felt like no matter what you did nothing eased the fear of the storms.

your girlfriend, demi, took quick notice of this the first time a storm rolled through during your relationship. she spent the majority of the time calming you down and didn't even think twice about getting you to focus on her instead of what was going on outside.

"baby, look! i made a blanket fort! i have all the snacks and a movie, and our chargers in case the power goes out, and i even grabbed those headphones in case you need them again!'

there's no doubt you and demi are spending the entire storm in that exact fort; she only used the best and thickest blankets in the entire house so it covered up the sound a little better, and the two of you would be huddled under another blanket for an extra sense of security.

i'd be a fool if i didn't specify that the two best guard dogs in the world, barry and luna, are protecting the fort through the storm to make sure both you and demi were safe.

with each crack of thunder, your body jumping and a quiet whimper leaving your lips, demi's arms would tighten around your body and she'd whisper the sweetest things she could manage; "shh, i'm here. we're safe right here in the house, yeah?"

you had to give demi credit, as she was trying her hardest to make sure you were feeling safe and comfortable. but she had no clue how deep this fear of thunder really went, and she knew she needed to start getting more creative.

the next time the thunder rolled, demi could see the tears building up in your eyes. it didn't help that the power was flickering and the wind was picking up outside. but she was determined to make sure you were okay throughout the rest of this storm, and she decided that she needed to go back to basics.

demi would turn you in her arms so you faced her, only able to look into her stunning eyes as she tightened the blanket around your bodies. what she said next took you by surprise, but it most definitely made you focus on anything other than the storm outside.

"you ever have that one thing as a kid you thought you were really good at but in reality you were just a kid and your parents wanted to keep your confidence up and made you think you were good at it?" she'd ask with a smile, taking amusement in the somewhat shocked look on your face.

demi wasn't done there; "in year 7 there was a talent show at school and i was convinced that i needed to showcase my insane hoola-hooping abilities." demi would smirk, her fingers drawing patterns on your back as she held you close.

she'd continue to go on about these silly stories, holding you close the entire time and smiling every time you giggled at her. demi's tactics work so well that you don't even notice the storm wrapping up outside and the only remnants being some light rain and wind.

the terror on your face was replaced by shock when you looked at demi, and she would giggle at you as if she'd accomplished the biggest thing possible. "i told you we'd get through the storm."

needless to say, every thunderstorm after this was not nearly as scary as they used to be - that is, as long as demi was home.

[heliads]

Hello! Sorry if this request is too vague, please let me know, but I wanted to request a Tony Stark x reader Soulmate AU

Thank u have a good day/night :)

it was a little vague lol which is why i had the people vote in a poll. your soulmate au is that every time soulmates are close but don't meet, they repeat the same day until they do meet. enjoy!

masterlist

Tony Stark is beginning to think that he’s lived through this day before.

He’s no stranger to deja vu, or not as much as anyone else, at least. Usually, his days and nights are so bizarre that he has no problem differentiating any given set of twenty-four hours. Aliens only tend to invade the planet once every few weeks, inhumans only go bad once a month, and so he has time in between ends of days to tell which Monday is which.

Still, there’s today, and Tony swears that today has already happened. He woke up this morning, bleary-eyed and not in his own bed. He’d stayed up past his necessary bedtime in the lab again, a practice which is frowned upon by most but produces the results he needs. Maybe that’s why his head isn’t clear. Either that, or someone’s trying to kill him again.

Tony opens his eyes in a mess of gears and wires and thinks, didn’t he just clean that up? Rhodey’s been after him recently to get his shit together, which obviously hasn’t happened yet, given the fact that Hurricane Machine Parts has had yet another landfall on his chosen sleeping desk. Tony blinks unhappily at the bits and bobs scattered helter-skelter in front of him and chooses to solve his problems the usual way, by sweeping everything into a nearby bin and pretending everything is fine.

An alarm goes off on his phone and Tony glares at it before the panic surges. That’s not meant to wake him up, that’s meant to get him out the door in time to make it to a conference. Tony is giving a speech on, well, something he was supposed to remember. Something important. In the end, does it really matter? He’ll say something snarky and possibly brilliant, then pepper in the fact that he’s Iron Man and saves everyone’s asses on a weekly basis so no one can complain. It’s a wonderful scare tactic.

Tony is aware of the fact that he should know what he’s doing, but why should he care when no one else does? Regardless of what he says, he’ll get the same reaction. Everyone in the audience is just there in the hopes that being in the proximity of a billionaire will improve their own trajectory in life. 

Tony used to pour his heart and soul into press conferences and scientific discussions until he looked out into the audience one day and realized that no one was paying attention in the slightest. They were pretending marvelously, of course, even had him fooled up until that point, but their focus was just superficial. They nodded along self-importantly with every one of his bullet points, but their heart wasn’t in it, so why should his? 

Besides, he gives one of these talks what feels like every day, so it’s not like he’ll have anything new to say anyway. Tony did one of these exact things yesterday, even slept late too. He can’t remember where this conference is being held, nor where yesterday’s was, or even the location of tomorrow’s talk. He’ll ask Happy in the car. Surely his head of security should be aware of where Tony is going.

One rushed morning routine later, Tony is in the car, knuckles clenched bone-white around the steering wheel. Happy has to give him course corrections only three times, increasingly let down with each one. Tony reads between the lines in each and every pursed lip, wincing with the disappointed side eyes. Yes, he’s a trainwreck, yes he’s worse than ever, but does he really have to be reminded of that right now?

Tony makes it to the function in time, smooths his tie and waves soullessly to the press. A woman greets him at the door. Her lipsticked smile says, We’re glad to have you! Her pained stare says, Why are you only here thirty seconds before the show begins?

Tony has no excuses, so he doesn’t give them, only recites the usual dialogue about how delighted he is to be at this conference. You know, the conference. The one for this day, the day that’s different from all the others. 

Tony settles into his seat on stage once the moderator introduces him. The funniest thing happens as he waits for the crowd to finish cheering. Although this could be just brushed off as Tony obviously not being as focused as he could be, he swears that this moment seems familiar. The moderator is wearing a rather lurid lime green coat, and wasn’t it just yesterday that Tony was thinking to himself that the man resembled the Grinch if he tried to go corporate?

Tony tears his gaze from the moderator to the crowd. No, this time he’s sure of it. The woman in the front row, left aisle, with the navy jacket asked him a tough question on the possibility of nuclear energy in the future just yesterday. The balding man on the far right nearly knocked himself out trying to get Tony to take a photo with him as he left the event. This is all the exact same as it was before. He has been here before, and if his suspicions are correct, he will repeat this exact same day again and again until he can get something right. Something crazy. Something like a soulmate.

God, Tony didn’t really think he’d get to this point. Soulmates are hypothetically for everybody, but it wouldn’t surprise Tony if they would skip a guy like him. It’s said you can go your entire life without meeting your soulmate, that you end up falling in love with whoever will make do and doing your best to forget that you were slighted by fate’s best gift to humanity. Something about Tony always seemed to fit that bill to a T. Maybe he’d manufacture destiny by finding someone he could love instead. He has always liked to Macgyver his way out of difficult problems, so conjuring up a soulmate out of conjecture would not be his worst hat trick.

Yet here Tony is, stuck in the soulmate loop. There’s only one way to know for sure to know that you’ve met your soulmate. More specifically, there’s only one way to know that you’re meant to meet your soulmate on a particular day:  you can’t get out of the same set of twenty-four hours.

The lore goes like this:  if you end up in close proximity to your soulmate without actually meeting them, you’ll have to repeat the same day over and over until the two of you make contact. Tony’s parents apparently took five days to get to know each other, but that’s on the low end. He’s heard of bad cases that took months of the same damn day for two people to finally figure each other out. And in a city like this, a place like New York? There are quite literally millions of people who could possibly cross Tony’s path. God, he might even be here for years.

It’s a flawed system, that’s for sure, but Tony has no way to fix this. None at all. The only thing he can do is start going about the process of fixing things. So his soulmate’s somewhere in this day, and it’s someone he’s never met. Maybe they were in the parking garage at the same time as him. Maybe they’re somewhere in this conference center. Maybe they were walking outside Stark Tower when he goes home for late night work.

There are so many places and so many possibilities that it’s starting to freak Tony out, so much so that he almost misses it when the moderator starts asking him questions. Were it not for the fact that Tony’s already lived through this once, he might have stumbled a little. Thankfully, he remembers enough of what he said last time that the words flow like water, giving Tony some space to think about his soulmate instead of which brand of coffee he attributes to giving him the most energy to seize his day. That’s a stupid question anyway.

This also helps him the next day, and the next day, and the next. One week of todays later, Tony is ready to scream. He knew the process of finding one’s soulmate would be difficult, but he didn’t count on it being this difficult. Tony is already going out of his way to meet new people, but even then, how would he know which stranger of dozens is actually his soulmate? 

At this point, Tony would settle for just getting out of the loop altogether, soulmate be damned. Maybe that’s not the right attitude to have, but it’s his nonetheless. Every day, he works late into the night, and every morning, all of his progress is gone. Tony can’t even note his discoveries on his phone because his memos clear out overnight, all those breakthroughs vanished into pixels of days past. Happy tells him that he looks tense. Tony fights the urge to hurl himself through a glass window. Such is the way of life.

He tries to look for the bright side of things, if he can’t think about anything else. It’s nice that he gets so many days guaranteed without threats made on his life. If he sticks to schedule, Tony always makes it to the crosswalk in front of the conference center right when the walking man appears. There’s this pretty girl in the back of the auditorium who always gives him this encouraging smile when he takes the stage, like even though Tony starts each show feeling like a trainwreck, she knows he’s going to be alright no matter what.

There are resources available to him. Tony’s had plenty of time to look. There are scores of websites online dedicated to people stuck in a loop and trying to find their soulmate. So long as you don’t mind making the same post every single morning, you can tell people where you’re located and see if you can track down someone in your vicinity. Tony’s been visiting them as of late, hovering over discussion boards like they’ll give him any sort of clue.

Four weeks of the same day. Four weeks of getting nowhere. Tony runs into traffic so he can stare into car windows. He lurks in coffee shops. Pepper thinks he’s going insane, but she changes her mind every twenty-four hours when the day resets, so he doesn’t have it in himself to care much. He just needs to get out of this day. He just needs his life back.

Some part of him wonders, too, who this person must be. Would they be kind or clever? Are they trying half as hard to find him as he is? Have they given up on him already? Tony would like to think that they’re fighting a battle for him, but who truly knows in the end. All he remembers is the same day over and over again.

Then, just when desolation is starting to kick in, Tony sees something. It’s a message on one of a thousand soulmate finding sites. Anyone stuck in today for a really long time? Thirty-three repetitions and counting. I’m in NYC if anyone else is out there. I keep going to Tony Stark’s conference at 10am, but not even his motivational speeches can keep me hopeful for much longer.

Tony almost chokes, then laughs, then lets himself wonder. Thirty-three days sounds about right, and if they’re in the audience of one of his shows, then maybe–

He hits reply before he can stop himself. Also in NYC, also 33 days. 

Tony doesn’t dare say anything else. On the car ride over to his conference, Happy asks him why he looks so confused. “It’s like you’re excited about something but you’re trying to pretend you’re not. What, have you annoyed another competitor into folding?” His head of security comments.

“No,” Tony mutters, “and besides, that was only one time. It’s not going to happen again.”

“You tell yourself that,” Happy chuckles, and then they’re at the conference center and they don’t have much to talk about anything, business ventures or soulmates or otherwise.

Tony checks his phone before he goes onstage. The person has responded to him. Wait, really? Where are you?

Tony glances around him. One of the event hosts, that passive aggressive woman, is coming to escort him to the stage, so he doesn’t have much time. Conference center. The one where Stark is speaking.

Then he’s on stage again, repeating the same stupid answers for the same bad questions. Now that he’s been here a couple dozen times, Tony can confirm that they really, really need to get better topics for him to discuss. He would be dozing off were it not for the fact that his soulmate might actually be somewhere in this building. Maybe somewhere in the same hall.

The interview ends, and Tony dares breach public etiquette by pulling out his phone. The stranger has replied again. I’m there too! What’s your seat number? Maybe we can finally break out of this.

Actually, Tony says, I’m the one on stage.

Tony looks around for someone, sees no one, tries to hide his despair. He stands on that stage for a little too long, past the point where the moderator is standing there blankly, grin frozen and eyes wide with the same expression everyone gets when someone does something they shouldn’t in a public setting.

One of Tony’s aides appears out of nowhere, gently tugging on his arm to get him to move off stage. Just as he goes, though, he hears a shout from somewhere in the back of the auditorium.

“Wait! It’s me!”

Tony cannot describe it, this certainty looming in his chest, but he knows it’s his soulmate. They’re here. He whips his head around even as his aide yanks him away. Tony sees a blur of faces, someone pushing through the crowd in the aisle, but the face–

Nothing. No one he can recognize. No one he could find later. They’re a woman, that’s all he’s learned. Tony frantically checks his phone, sees a message saying that she’s figured him out. Tony tries to fight to stay around longer, but now Happy’s determined he’s delusional and Tony is all but packaged into his car and driven away. He’s put on house arrest once he gets back, Pepper and Happy taking turns asking what the hell has gotten into him. Tony tries to explain, but they don’t want to listen. No matter how many times you’ve repeated the same day, you wouldn’t be acting like this. Please be rational.

Tony doesn’t want to be rational, though, he wants to find his damn soulmate. He tries to message his soulmate that he can’t get out of the house, but she’s not answering her phone. Just before the day ends, Tony memorizes her username and prays she’ll have the same one the next iteration of the loop.

He messages her the second he wakes. Is it still you?

Yeah, she says, my phone died, sorry. What happened?

My friends staged an intervention. Apparently I’m acting irrationally.

He can practically sense her laughing on the other end. Repeating the same day 34 times will do that to you.

That’s what I tried to say, he replies, but did they believe me? No.

There’s about a minute pause, and then they message again. Do you think we can do it today? Try to meet again?

I think we can try, Tony says, and that does it.

They make plans. Tony gets ready early. He lingers backstage, waiting, checking his phone every ten seconds. Happy must pick up on this tension, because when he approaches Tony about eight minutes after they arrive, he lingers on the edges of Tony’s peripheral vision, not wanting to interrupt whatever is clearly wrong with him.

“What is it?” Tony asks, distracted.

“There’s someone here for you,” Happy says slowly, “They say they’re your, uh, soulmate. Should I just tell them to leave?”

Tony feels his eyes grow wide. This is not the first time someone has tried to meet him by playing the soulmate card. He gets it:  he’s rich, he’s distracted, of course someone would try it. This, however, might be the first time it was real.

“Yeah,” Tony says, “it’s them. Where is she?”

Happy blinks, surprised. “Wait, you’re serious? It’s actually–” At Tony’s exasperated hand waving, Happy hurries himself along. “Sorry, sorry. She’s waiting by the door.”

Happy might be saying something else, but Tony doesn’t hear it. He’s already spinning around, walking as fast as his dress shoes will let him. There’s a woman standing by the east exit. She looks nervous, and half a second after he sees her Tony realizes that she’s the pretty woman from his show. He saw her every single day, and he never even knew it was her.

Tony wondered what it would be like to meet your soulmate after so many days of waiting, if there was any way of knowing for sure that it was them. So many weeks later, Tony has an answer:  you feel it in your chest, right between your ribs, an electric shock that makes his entire body stand alert.

She must feel it too, because all of a sudden she looks up from where she’s been scanning the crowd and her eyes land on him. She smiles, and it’s because of him. No other reason. Just him.

Words are hard to come by. Should he say something impactful, the perfect sentiment for such an important moment? Surely this is a time for something to remember. Tony’s been repeating this day for a while, though, never truly believing it would come to an end, so when his mental wheels stop spinning, all he can do is something simple, something real.

“Hi,” he says, “I’m Tony.”

She grins at him. He doesn’t know that he’s ever seen an expression so sweet.

“I’m Y/N,” she replies, “it’s great to finally meet you.”

marvel tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver

[importantgalaxyrunaway]

Chariot rides (Part 3 Finnick x y/n

CONTENT: fluff, lots of kissing 💋, pov shifts, a little everlark, finnick being hot in the gif lol 🥵 also this one is longer than the others

Part 1 is called nightmares and is on my account part 2 is called the ring and is on my account I would link them but I don’t know how so if you do please reply and tell me.

On the train ride to the capital we had all been discussing our tactics for the arena. After all we still had to survive the arena first. We couldn’t use the same strategy’s as last time. Well not for me. Last time I pretended I was innocent and sneakily killed my opponents via poison. But they know my tricks now. I don’t just use poison I’m good at using a dagger and throwing knifes to. Me and finnick and other tributes would make a very good team. I thought about this as laid in finnicks arms in my bed. We have been almost inseparable the whole time since we have been reaped. I’m scared I’m going to lose him.

——————

The train pulled into the capital station of strangers in bright clothing. They were particularly happy that Finnick was here. However I have my share of admirers. But soon after we arrive we are push in different directions to be prepared for our stylist.

“they have something special planned for you” my prep team tells me. Apparently my stylist cordia a woman in her 30s with long blue hair. “Oh darling you are beautiful you look like such a goddess in this.”

“you really think so?” I ask nervous. I have always been insucure about how I look.

“trust me everyone will love it!”

(This is the dress you wear)

I go to the chariot chart where finicky was standing. Wow… he looks so hot. He is wearing something that shows of his whole chest and muscles. I bit my lip.I look him up and down while blushing heavily. He noticed me staring at him.

“like my outfit?” He teases with a smirk seeing the blush on my face “my god, y/n your so beautiful” says taking in my outfit. I smile as I grab his hand.

“looks like the capital made us both pretty” I laugh. “I’m going to see if I can make an ally with other tributes.” I add in my normal tone

“okay” he responds as he kisses my hand as he smiles looking into my eyes. He then let’s it go. I decided to walk over to district 12. Particularly katniss. She seems so genuine so I decide to go over to her. She is alone next to her chariot petting her horse.

“hi katniss” I say petting the horse with her. She looks around and sees it’s me

“I’m y/n l/n”

“hello” she says. We keep petting the horse in comfortable silence for a little bit but then she notices my ring on my finger.

“nice ring” she says honestly

I smile sadly “well your wedding isn’t the only one to be canceled because of these games”

(katniss pov)

Now I felt bad. I was just trying to make small talk but I brought up a sad memory for her. Unlike me and peeta’ Love witch had been mostly for the cameras she must have been truly in love. She looked a bit sad as she had said this. And there was nothing in that cameras of her dating someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry. Is there any chance if you get out of the games” I quickly added

”well katniss it seems we are in similar circumstances” and she left leaving it at that. As she walks away in her stunning dress, I can’t help but wonder.

who was she going to marry? We they going into the arena too? She said we were in similar circumstances.

(Back to y/n’s pov)

I walk over to a few other tributes. I go over to see my old friend Joanna. But I make my way back to finnick after visiting them all. “Y/n! Want a sugar cube?” He asks playfully. “Sure” I laugh.

I put my hands on his chest carefully traceing his muscles. He is so attractive.

“I guess my costume’s got you distracted huh” I look up to see he is blushing. His face is red and he is smiling. I put my arms around his neck “you could say that” I chuckle. Then the intercom backstage tells us that we need to get in our chariots and get ready.

He holds my hand as he helps me get in the chariot. But I don’t let go of his hand. Everyone’s looks good in their costumes. Especially finnick, I thought. However district 12 blew them out of the park. District 12 was wearing something that designed to look like flames again. It was absolutely stunning. Eventually we get to the end and I state snow down as if to say,….

Let’s see if the odds are in your favor president snow.

—————

we quickly slip away into a hallway near the elevator and finnick pushes me against the wall. We passionately make out. I just couldn’t wait any longer. Not with how he looks In that outfit and he felt the same about me. My hand in his hair. He then starts to tail hickeys down my neck. I moan a little as he sucks on my neck. I giggle into the kiss I give him. he picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me still smiling. Then we wrap our arms around each other. Our arms move around each other’s as we kiss each other as if we’re never going to see each other again. For a bit We are lost in our own world. A world where it is just us together and no games. Our lips on each other, him holding me. We are so distracted in each other that we don’t even notice the elevator ding.

“You need to make sure that your teaming up with someone. People work better as a team they get more sponsors” I hear the voice of haymitch say to his tributes katniss and peeta.

Peeta is out of the elevator first “well I- oh” he clears his throat “am I interrupting something?”

finnick quickly puts me down and we break apart. I was bright red both with embarrassment and what I was doing before.

”oh my god! I’m sorry! I was just- uh- I- I- uhhh—you—-I was—“ I stutter out. “Sorry” I manage.

peeta chuckles “it’s alright” and Katniss and haymitch shoot me a knowing look. Haymitch actually let’s put a bit of a snort. After that I walked back to my quarters with finnick. Where we finished what we started.

(Katniss pov)

“you think y/n is marrying finnick or she’s cheating?” I said to peeta as I got in bed. The light was on and he was wide awake.

“what do you mean?”

“ I saw a ring on her finger and asked her about it. She said she had her wedding canceled because of the games and we’re in similar circumstances.”

“I think he really loves her. I mean, did you see the way they looked at each other?”

“I did trust me. I’m just saying that with Finnicks reputation with his capital lover I’d be surprised if he settled. Let alone marry. But you’re right the way they looked at each other…. They differently weren’t acting.”

“I’m tired” peeta yawns he turns off the light on the bedside table. I snuggle up next to him and rest my head on his shoulder. And I thought about y/n. If I want allies she should be one of them. She seems real. Not an actor putting on a front for the capital. Or a very superficial person. No she seems like an actual human who has empathy.

TYSM FOR READING!!! This took me much longer than the first two I really hope you like it!!! I worked hard so please like. As always my requests are open. Tell me your thoughts and ideas PLEASE. Also what do you think about y/n’s outfit? Please be nice if you comment though. And a positive reminder to-

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💗 stay safe, get some sleep, drink some water, you are amazing! 💙

[littlemissmanga]

If you’re still doing the 200-word game, I’d love to see Wolffe with fem!reader for prompt 10. Maybe she’s used to doing things on her own and has a hard time relaxing :)

Send me one of the following and a clone and I'll write a 200 word spicy drabble.

YES! Nonnie, IDK how you knew to send this in, but let me tell you I'm feeling this in my soul. I'm so sorry it took so long, I hope this hits the right note.

Also, this is entirely self-indulgent cause it's been a WEEK at work and it's only Tuesday lol.

Pairing: Wolffe x f!Reader

W/C: 750 (sorry I couldn't stay within the 200 tonight.

Warnings: Spice, heavy petting, nudity (f), fingering

Divider by @samspenandsword

You couldn’t even care about the concerning clink that rung out when your bag hit the floor, your poor lunch container likely cracked now.

Kriff it, what else can go wrong today!?

It had been hell. After busting your ass for three weeks, the client had changed the parameters for the project you were working on. Even worse, you knew this would happen. Saw it coming from the beginning told the client as much. But your boss — needing to save face in front of the client and always be right — told you to just do instructed.

Sure enough, now that’s three weeks of work wasted and you know you’ll be blamed if the deadline isn’t met. So instead of relaxing this weekend, you’ll be up to your elbow in work.

Not even bothering to suppress a groan, you kicked your shoes off and made your way into your apartment, only to feel strong hands grab at your waist as you passed the kitchen. Immediately, you tensed, pulling your arm back to strike, until ...

“Hey, hey, it’s just me, sweetheart.”

The low voice — unmodulated by his helmet or a holocall — instantly killed your defenses.

“Wolffe,” you sighed, turning to relax fully into his arms as you rested your forehead against his chest. He had already showered and changed into the clothes you kept for him when he was on leave. Gods, just the feel of him, the smell of him, was already calming your over-fried nerves. “Stars, I’m so glad you’re here.”

He chuckled and pulled you tighter. “Rough day?”

“Try a rough month,” you mumbled into his chest. “And it’s about to be a rough weekend.”

“Ah.”

You never understood it. Your petty corporate struggles pale in comparison to the challenges Wolffe had to face every day. And yet, he had endless patience for them, listening to your complaining. He approached everything so tactically and yet he genuinely cared enough to just support and validate you without judgement.

“Well, I can’t help with your work,” he said, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “But I do know you can’t do anything overwhelmed and overstressed. And that is something I can help with.”

Oh, now that was tempting. But…

“And before you start burning out that brain of yours, you know I’m right. Nothing of value is getting done if you’re already running on empty.”

You lean back to look at Wolffe, taking him in fully for the first time. “You’re not taking ‘no’ for an answer, are you?”

He cocked an eyebrow, giving you a discerning look that you were sure scared the boys of the 104th into obedience. “No.”

His hands slid to your front, pulling your blouse from your skirt and deftly unbuttoning it.

“You’ve been working hard. And you have more hard work in front of you. It’s not a crime to take a break to care for yourself. I … I worry you don’t do that enough,” he admitted, pushing the light fabric off your shoulders and onto the floor.

He moved on to your skirt, carefully pulling the zipper so it wouldn’t catch. “And now that I’m here, I can make sure you’re cared for the way you deserve.”

Invading your space further, Wolffe trailed the lightest of kisses across the top of your bare shoulder up the column of your neck, moving slowly to touch every inch of your skin with his lips. You barely registered how much you were leaning into him, relying on him to hold you, until he gathered you in his arms and began walking to your bedroom.

“I take care of myself just fine, I’ll have you know,” you countered as he laid you gently across your bed. “You spoil me. There’s a difference.”

Wolffe’s smile was positively sinful as he shook his head. He pulled himself over you, resting on his side so he could map out the curves of your body with one hand.

“There shouldn’t be, sweetheart.”

You would have protested more normally. Your mind was desperately trying to hold onto the urgency of your work, needing to get started lest your anxious thoughts consume you, but it was getting harder and harder. A pleasant fog overtook your thoughts, your body already having yielded to his touch, legs opening at the barest tap from his calloused hand. His rough touch pulled a gasp from you as he passed lightly over your heat.

“That’s it, baby. Just let go. Lay back and let me take care of you.”

So you did. And it wasn’t long before the only thing you could think was Wolffe.

[disneynerdpumpkin]

Descendants OC time! (so far anyway lol)

(Keep in mind that their profiles aren't entirely finished; some of them I haven't fully developed yet, but this is them in general)

Penelope (daughter of Pinocchio and Alice) Penelope always smells of wood and paint, and always has fresh sawdust on her apron from carving; she is very artsy and loves sketching and painting, as well as reading books. (Her grandfather Geppetto taught her how to carve when she was younger, and now she loves creating and making things.)

She is much like her father (happy-go-lucky, etc), but she is also mature for her age. She is 14 years old.

She is also a dancer (mainly dances ballet, contemporary, and tap).

Her nickname is Ellie, and her favorite snack is warm cinnamon rolls.

Penelope Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/16pKoxC

Sophie (daughter of Stromboli) Sophie is a dancer and a gymnast, and loves performing. Like her father, she has a bit of a temper when she gets angry (but not as much).

She loves listening to music, and she loves wearing blouses. She is 14 years old.

Sophie Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/7s02Kxm

Chrissy (daughter of the Coachman) Chrissy and her father are almost polar opposites. She owns a small whip that her father has gifted her, she has vowed to herself never to use it to beat animals (she loves animals and would never treat them cruelly); she only uses it to practice whip-cracking tricks. Her eyes sometimes flash green when she's angry.

She is 15 years old.

Chrissy loves animals; she has taken in a baby donkey, which she has named Posy. (the Coachman was going to leave Posy to die, as he didn't need any more donkeys at the moment; Chrissy started to care for her)

(Chrissy w/green eyes) ↑

Chrissy Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/7rClPo2

Evelyn (daughter of The Blue Fairy) Evelyn is half-fairy, half-human. She is a rebel, and very sarcastic. She provides the dark humor in her friend group. Evelyn is very kind and supportive of her friends, despite being sarcastic. Despite magic not being used in Auradon, she uses her magic often; using her wand made from sapphire.

She is 16 years old, and loves black leather clothing (she thinks they make her look tough and cool); she also loves chocolate

Evelyn w/wings ↑

Evelyn Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/1TNx96G

Petunia (daughter of Lampwick -and Tiger Lily-) Requested/inspired by @casinotrio1965 (shared OC)

Petunia is the young daughter of Lampwick and Tiger Lily. She loves playing pool (and even has a custom billiards cue stick that her father bought for her) and is really good at it. She loves comfy clothes, and her favorite drink is warm ginger tea with honey and lemon.

Petunia's favorite color is lavender, and her second favorite color is green. She loves floral scented candles. (I apologize, I could only find a darker lavender in Gacha and not a lighter one lol)

She also does a bit of yoga as a way to relax and to keep in shape.

She is 14 years old.

Petunia Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/26PUsAF

Madelyn Hatter (daughter of the Mad Hatter) Everyone calls her Maddy/Maddie for short. Much like her father, she loves unbirthday celebrations and tea parties, and she's a child at heart. She loves to make her friends smile and help them out on their bad days. Maddy loves peach tea (especially iced teas), and her favorite snacks are jammie dodgers.

Maddy is 15 years old.

In her free time she sometimes likes to practice magic tricks (like card tricks); she's not very good at it though, but she tries anyway.

Maddy w/ her glasses ↑

Maddy Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/5eKcSLR

Sabrina Skellington (daughter of Jack and Sally Skellington) Sabrina loves practicing scaring tactics; her father teaches her scaring tactics and strategies. She's very confident, and often has her hair tied back in some way, shape, or form.

Her favorite candy is candy canes; she also has pyrokinesis (like her father). She loves Christmas, and it's her favorite holiday.

Sabrina is 15 years old.

Sabrina Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/3PZe4mn

Jacqueline Skellington (daughter of Jack and Sally Skellington) Jackie for short. She is introverted; she is a writer and loves to sketch, and loves reading. Like her mother, Jackie is a very talented seamstress and loves to sew. She also loves to make teas and potions.

She is 15 years old.

She loves wearing sweaters, and occasionally listening to relaxing ASMR.

She totally isn't Sandy Claw's favorite among Jack's kids

Jackie Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/5kDdJa5

Sterling Skellington (son of Jack and Sally Skellington) Sterling is 16 years old, and he is on the tourney team at Auradon Prep. He loves modeling men's clothing that Jackie sews (he especially loves the patchwork jacket he received as a Christmas present one year).

Sterling also loves playing some video games, and enjoys attempting to teach Zero new tricks.

Sterling Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/Di0FV4N

Bella (daughter of Oogie Boogie) Bella is crazy about anything neon/glow-in-the-dark; like her father, she loves gambling games and risk. (Her favorite game is dominoes)

She loves jazz music, and is a jazz dancer; she loves listening and dancing to show tunes. She also does some theater.

Oogie Boogie has gifted her a pair of dice.

Bella is 15 years old, and is a humanoid with burlap skin (but not filled with bugs, like her father is). Sometimes her friends call her Boogie Boogie.

Bella Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/MyQTE3p

Princeton Hoffman (son of Captain Phillip Hoffman/The Nutcracker and Clara Stahlbaum) He is a ballet dancer, and is on the tourney team; he is very strong physically, and athletic. Once Princeton becomes close friends with someone, he becomes very protective of them.

His favorite season is winter; he thinks it's very beautiful and no matter how old he gets, he loves to play in it.

Princeton is 15 years old.

Princeton Pinterest aesthetic board: https://pin.it/7hrtU6e

[shippershipperyshippyship]

Alter x Reader Headcanons (Strangers/'Friends'/Interest)

Listen, I'm in love with this monster - I've been trying to find content to consume for her and there hasn't been enough so here I am. Feel free to agree, disagree, make your own whichever. I'm only placing this so my brain chemicals is happy I finally let my love for her flow elsewhere other than playing the game LOL (she's my new main, sorry Wraith)

Strangers:

She doesn't care much for you. If you get physically in her way, you've been warned! Her unpredictable nature can either: make her simply ignore you, throw you against the wall, put you through a portal and placed in god knows where.

To her, you're insignificant, a rock - she'll forget you even breath or have you own thoughts. On the chance you do get to talk to her, she'd purposely say whatever she wants or scare you for fun. The only real way to get her to treat you like a normal person is if you fight her or prove yourself beneficial. Otherwise, be prepared to be the next death box when you see her in the hallways.

'Friends': Alter doesn't really have friends due to her unpredictable nature she can only count in one hand whom she'd consider friends and even then, her definition of friends is "useful until they're not." She'll know how to use you after all, she knows you want to stay close with her. Whatever it is she'll say what you want to hear to get what she wants - it's going to sound genuine every single time because you are a fool who believes the good in her. Her good moments while existing are often manipulative tactics to make you stay, it'll be small like:

Buy your favourite bubble tea when she visits you.

Says she missed you when she hasn't shown up for weeks.

She'll text you out of the blue of what she's doing before showing up unannounced from your work place to take you away.

And every single time she does, you'll let her talk. And talking is surprisingly one of the things she's good at. YOU will keep thinking she's changed or whatever delusion you sell yourself to stay being friends with her. At the end of the day, her selfishness always wins over making proper connections.

If you ever become friends with her - cut her off. You're just a stepping stone.

Interest: You'll only receive Alter's true undivided attention when you particularly challenge her or hate her guts and actively show it. Whether it be petty or deeply ingrained in you, the moment she discovers your feelings for her - she'll be more honest and ironically, cooperative and friendly with you. Her favourite is to get under your skin. She teases, sweet talks, or flirts. If you're ever brought up in a conversation, she'll mention how she 'loves' you in her own little Alter way.

She won't care about your status, she will kidnap you and take you to a grand adventure because she'd want someone who is 'feisty' or 'strong-tempered' by her side. Strangely enough, once you become enemies, she'll respect you and work harder to understand you. If you're strong enough to show your disdain to her, she thinks you're worthy of her time. It's even worse if you hold valuable information or skills: she will be more cunning, her words specifically crafted to convince you AND get under your skin. If you're an interest, good luck! You're her new plaything! God knows you'll need it for when she crawls through your window and attempt to talk you into another scheme while using that smile you hate the most.

In conclusion, she's just a fucking asshole and you should avoid her at all cost. But knowing the community, they will definitely not they're weirdos (it's me I'm weirdos.)