#BEFORE I SAY ANYTHING ELSE. The long hair is clearly better. i am happy to have the original image over my stupid phone edit.

[slugandthorn]

Annoyed in a very normal way that his portrait from school is the same length as his hair during the game. Don't worry about what's in the tags I'm sure it's a normal amount of text.

[skulla-rxcks]

Was that message for me?

Paring: friend!bang chan x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: PIV, mutual msturbation, friends trope, chan thinks the message wasn’t for him, slight daddy kink, oral, fingèring

Asking best friend!Chan for help orgasming.. but he thinks the message wasn’t for him

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

“Heyy can you come over? I need help :(”

“Why? You okay? What do you need help with?”

“I can’t seem to cum. Every time I try to orgasm I just seem to can’t, it’s like I’m stopped.”

“Were you meant to say that to me?” Chan asks typing his fingers across his phone, clearly confused. This message wasn’t meant for him.. right?

“Wdym?”

“You asked for help with.. you know.. uh things. That wasn’t meant for me right?”

He looks at his phone, his brows furrowing in confusing as he reads over the explicit question asked.

“Chris just come over please. It’s easier to talk in person”

I sigh my mood changing to regret as I can already see the confusion in his face even though I can’t physically see him through my phone. I end up receiving a thumbs up in response ‘thank god I didn’t just mess up our friendship completely’ I sigh in relief; and about twenty or so minutes later I hear the door bell ring; getting up from my bed and exiting my room I go and answer it, opening the door to Chan, clearly questioning what the fuck just happened not too long ago.

“So im guessing it was for me if you asked me to come over..? You did use my name after all.” He steps inside, making his way to my living room and taking a seat on the couch, I sit down next to him, both of us completely flustered.

“I’m really sorry for bringing this up I know it’s probably a bit uncomfortable talking about something like this but-” Chan cuts me off, looking at me with concern.

“No no don’t worry it’s fine! I uh, get like that sometimes I understand.. do you not own toys or anything that could.. give you a hand?” I shake my head, looking embarrassed for bringing this ‘issue’ up to someone who I’d probably consider my guy best friend.

“No.. I mean, I use the handle of my hair brush sometimes but I’ve never had this issue before.” I blush, why am I asking him about something like this? I feel like I’m going to cry out from embarrassment.

He sighs, noticing how uncomfortable I am and how much I trust him to even bring up an issue like this.

“Have you tried anything else? Pillow humping?.. uhh… maybe use more fingers if you.. never mind I’m so sorry I sound really perverted giving suggestions haha.” He laughs, trying to lighten the mood and get some of the tension out of the air that’s filling the room.

“No! Don’t worry Chan it’s fine.. I’m finding it helpful to talk about this stuff..” I mumble under my breath.

“Okay well.. are you stressed? Maybe that’s the reason I’ve heard that stress can stop people from orgasming sometimes?” He suggests, trying to get to the bottom of whatever’s happening. “I’m not sure. Can you give me a hand and see if that’s the problem maybe? I uh, maybe if someone helps me I’ll be able to..”

Chan nods slowly looking into my eyes for permission before reassuring himself with his words. “So you want me to.. help you cum? Like you want me to touch you or..” He scrunches his face, a hint of lust glazing over his features, his soft lips puckering with his expressions, a mix of frowns and smiles cover them.

I Look away, fiddling with my own hands. “If that’s okay.. hopefully it doesn’t ruin our relationship or anything.” I blush, fluttering my eyelashes at him, silently pleading for more. “Of course if that’s what you need to make you feel better then I’m happy to oblige, especially if I’m the one who can make you cum.” He chuckles, the top of his ears turning red.

I smile, beginning to take off my sweat pants along with my panties, watching as he strips himself of his bottom half as well.

“So what now..?” I ask. “Maybe we should start with mutual masturbation.. don’t wanna rush things, you know?” He smiles politely. What a gentle man he is, not rushing into anything fast, even though I’d be happy for whatever he wants to do first with me. “Okay” I nod, picking up our pants and bringing him to my bedroom and sitting down with him. “You know how to do this right?”

“We just.. masturbate side by side?” I look at him. Receiving a nod. I look at him as he starts to wrap his fist around his cock, pumping it slowly before picking up speed, the site of his dick making my insides ache and my cunt twitch with need. Watching him, I slowly thrust two fingers inside of my hole, curling them up to hit my g spot, my eyes however, are hooked onto his dick, watching him like he’s some sort of drug to me, drawing me in more and more with every stroke.

“You’re staring quite a bit, you okay?” He giggles, rubbing his spare hand on my thigh reassuringly. “Yeah yeah it’s just.. wow, I never expected to do something like this with you.. I mean, you’re probably one of my best friends after all” I shuffle closer to him, my pussy twitching around my fingers as I think about how his dick would feel inside of me; raw or protected I don’t care, I wonder how good he’d feel inside of me with his thick length, if he’d let me cum immediately or if he’d dominate me and use me to his liking; controlling whether or not I’m allowed to cum as I squirm under him.

I finally decide to let my horny thoughts get a hold of me. “I want you.. but I still can’t seem to..”

“You have me, princess. What’s on your mind?” He says, looking into my eyes with concern, noticing how needy I’m getting. He probably noticed how I was twitching around my fingers and lost in my thoughts. “I’m wondering how.. how your..” I try to get my words out but they’re tied back against my throat. “How my what?” He teases, clearly enjoying this side of me. “Tell me or I won’t give it to you, yeah?”

I nod, “I’m wondering how your dick would feel inside of me.. e-every inch and the thickness of it stretching me open.. how you’d treat me differently while I’m under you or on top.” I look away after finally spilling my words out, feeling my cheeks get hot. There’s so much more I want to say but it would take hours.

“Do you wanna stop wondering and try it out? Id be lying if I said I wasn’t wondering similar things about your pretty little pussy.. wonder how tight you are and how your face contorts as you make a pretty mess all over my dick.” He teases, reaching over into my lap to stroke his fingers over my clitoris, making me squirm with need.

“Please Chan.. Please Chris..” I beg him, using both of his names. “Good girl. Protection or no protection?” He asks, wanting to know my preference or if I want him to fill me up with his hot seed or not.

“As much as I want to risk it.. I don’t wanna accidentally you know, get impregnated and regret it once I’m not extremely fucking horny.”

“Mm that’s okay.. hopefully one day you’ll let me pump that cunt of yours up full of my cum, hm?” Chan smirks, enjoying making me into a soaking wet needy mess with his words.

He lifts his shirt over his head exposing his bare muscular body as he climbs on top of me. “Be a good girl and take your bra off for me, let me see those tits..” “yes da-“ I pause, realising what almost came out of my mouth. “Daddy huh? Fuck that made me so turned on.” He groans, reaching into his bag and finding a condom before rolling it onto his dick. While he does that I obey his order and unclip my bra, my breasts now being on display.

He licks his lips at the site of me now laying under him completely naked and vulnerable, dripping and ready for his cock. Chan positions himself at my entrance and pushes in, making me let out a moan of pleasure.

“Chris oh my god..!” I cry out, savouring the feeling of how his cock fills up my dripping needy cunt perfectly, slowly calming the urges inside of me but slowly making me want more. “Shh you’re okay.. just focus on how good I feel inside this pretty pussy, okay?”

“M-mhm..” a whimper leaves my mouth before feeling Chan press his lips against mine, his tongue parting my lips and our tongues now dancing and tangling together as his hands slowly creep their way down to my breasts massaging and playing with them making me squirm under him with even more need pulsing through my body as a result of his actions. “So fucking tight just for me..” he murmurs Into the kiss, beginning to plunge his dick in and out of my hole harder and faster. “Y-yes only for you daddy… I’m all yours ” I moan, parting away from the kiss to look into his eyes, my brain studying every scrunch and frown of pleasure lurking upon his face.

Fuck, I imagine how he must feel pounding and ruining me raw, without protection; every vein and every pulse as more blood runs to his dick making him grow and twitch inside of me. God, how I want him to fill me up and impregnate me with his children so Fucking badly. It’s definitely not right for our first time being intimate though.

“Whatcha thinking about now baby girl?” He teases again, pumping his length deeper into my pussy, I can’t even get a solid response out of my mouth it feels so fucking good. “So loud.. you gonna cum? You gonna make a mess all around my dick?”

“A-ah.. yes.. yes.. soon!” I cry, feeling myself tighten around him as I creep up the road to reach my peak. “So loud..” he chuckles, connecting his lips to my breast sucking gently on my nipple as I let loose a soft scream that turns into a loud moan as I feel him pound his length deeper Into me.

My back arching slightly from the pressure, tears starting to well up in my eyes as a loud string of moans leave my lips.

“Come for me baby~ Come for daddy~”

And so I did, screaming and crying louder than I ever had before, clenching him tighter, cumming around his cock. HARD.

Not long after I feel Chan reach his too, filling up the condom, making me feel a little bubble inside of me before pulling out, tying it up and properly disposing of it. “You sound so pretty when you cum baby? May I eat you out? Show you I can make you cum in more ways than one?” He chuckles, clearly amused with himself at the mess he’s created

“Please..” I pout, the thought of his plush soft lips against my clit and his tongue thrusting in and out of my needy little hole making me go feral.

“Only for you.” he smirks. I shivering as he slowly makes his way down to my cunt, licking and trailing his tongue down from my breasts until he reaches his desired destination. He grips his hands around my thighs, gently prying them open before attaching his lips to my now swollen clitoris flicking it with his tongue as his beady brown eyes look up at me and watch while I throw my head back in pleasure. “C-Chris..! Ah..”

“You taste just as good as you look..” Chan groans into my pussy, making me whimper even more this time due to the vibrations of his voice flowing through me and my pussy. “Fuck! You’re ruining me..!~” I sob out in pleasure, my hand reaching down to push his face deeper into my folds, needing more of his mouth, which only causes him to start moving his tongue and lips faster.

“Chris!! Don’t do that ill-“ I try to warn him but it’s too late, I’ve already made a mess of myself all over his face.

“Well at least you’re not complaining are you?” God, even his way of words makes me so horny.

I shake my head. “Good girl. My good girl.” He grins, moving his head up from my crotch to my face, forcing his lips on mine making me taste myself. “Mmph!?-“ I gasp against his lips as he pushes two fingers inside of me, bending them and moving them back and forth against that sweet spot inside of me.

“You like that baby girl? Tell me what you like about my hands.. since you stare at them so often you must have some naughty thoughts about them, yeah?” Chan pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting our lips as he waits for my response.

“Y-yes.. I.. i Imagine your fingers in me as I touch myself, but f-fuck they’re so much better and faster than mine.” I connect my lips back to his, our tongues beginning to swirl and twirl again. “Get on your knees for me.” He demands me, I let out a whine of disappointment as he pulls his fingers out of my pussy. “Mhm..” I smile, getting down on my knees and looking up at him. “I ate your pretty little pussy so now it’s time for you to wrap that mouth around me.,”

“Yes”

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Such a good girl you are, already knowing your place” he praises. I wrap my mouth around his already dripping cock and start taking him Into my mouth, sucking him. The flavour of his precum hitting my taste buds making me feel special, making me feel that I’m maybe definitely more than a friend to him.

“You wanna take me deeper? Think you can do it?” I nod, my mouth filled with his dick, I take him deeper and deeper, slowly beginning to deep throat him. Accidentally gaging around his length in the process.

“Your throats so tight baby. Im Gonna cum soon fucking swallow every drop of me.” I look up at him, he’s biting his lip as he spills his seed down my throat, I swallow it all, hungry for every bit of his cock, I whine slightly as he pulls out of my mouth, a tiny bit of his semen still dripping down my chin, I lick it up greedily.

“Good girl. Did you get what you wanted? Happy you could finally cum?”

I nod, now laying down with him and snuggling my head against his chest like a lost kitten.

“If you ever need help again don’t hesitate to call me baby girl.”

“Same for you Chris.”

[hxnbi]

⸻ ❀°。wind breaker boys if you had braces

requested by anonymous: "I recently got my braces in and although I do not regret saving up the money to get it done. It really hurts lately. And I am very much bummed out that it hurts so much. I was wondering if you could write something related to it?"

pairings requested: suo, sakura, umemiya, togame, and choji x gn. reader

note: as someone who had braces before a few years back, ik that it can freaking SUCK so i hope it gets better for you <3

❀°。SAKURA HARUKA

At first, he really didn’t know what to do when you came back from your dentist appointment, only to look like you could audition for a role in a zombie movie. Sakura can hardly manage taking proper care of himself, so what would he know about taking care of other people? Does he even deserve to take care of you...? But he shakes off those thoughts, because, on the other side of the room, you were suffering, practically melting into the couch while your head was unseen from the large pillow on your face, squishing your face in hopes of dulling the pain. Which didn’t help much.

“Hey, uh, ahem… you need anything?” he asks awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

You murmur something short and nearly incoherent, and Sakura, determined to be helpful, tries to scour the kitchen for anything that might ease your pain. You wonder what he was doing, but you can find it in yourself to open your mouth, in pain, to say anything. He eventually brings you a cold compress and some soft, mashed potatoes, hoping it might help. Long story short, they don’t taste very good. He’s a little confused, but he's got the spirit. 

❀°。SUO HAYATO

The second Suo peers over at you and sees you lying on the couch, you are hardly recognizable—well, not literally, but you clearly do not look like yourself, and that worries him deeply. It hurts to see you like this, and his heart sinks seeing you in such discomfort.

“Y/n, you have to eat,” he says gently, holding a bowl of soft soup that he painstakingly prepared just for you.

“I know…” you mumble, shifting slightly while attempting to cover yourself and your metallic mouth with a blanket.

He sits beside you, patiently spooning small portions, coaxing you with the spoon moving closer to your mouth.

Suo tries his best, while not forcing you, to eat. After all, if you didn’t have food in your system, you would feel even worse, and he didn’t want that. He, above all, wished for your happiness.

❀°。UMEMIYA HAJIME

Umemiya attends to every need in the world. Husband material through and through, he becomes your personal nurse. He prepares all the homemade cold smoothies and soups in the world to smooth your pain, makes sure you take your pain medication on time, and even neglects his Furin duties just to spend it all with you to keep your mind off the ever-present pain from the metals in your mouth.

“You feelin' okay? Need anything else?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face and clasping your hand in his.

You can't help but smile weakly. You feel incredibly lucky to have someone like Umemiya. He makes sure your comfort is his top priority above all, attending to every small detail with the utmost care and affection. To him, nothing is more important than your happiness, and he’s more than willing to make it happen.

❀°。TOGAME JO

Granted, Togame doesn’t push you to talk much, always trying to be considerate about his own feelings. You don’t need to talk; he’ll be at your side at all times, making sure that you are properly cared for, and constantly attentive as your boyfriend. Togame tries to take your mind off the pain by doing little things that make you happy, like playing your favourite music or perhaps watching your favourite show on TV. Without a word, he sits next to you, gently holding your hand and caressing the insides of your palm.

Whenever you grimace from the pain, he squeezes your hand reassuringly and whispers softly that he’ll stay with you through it all.

❀°。TOMIYAMA CHOJI

“Huh, it hurts? Where?” Choji asks, looking genuinely puzzled with both his feet crossed in a rather childlike fashion.

You point to your mouth, muttering a few words, and he finally understands. Oh right! You did mention that you would be getting braces on today. His face immediately sinks, seeing your discomfort. Oh, you must be in pain...

And so, with that plaguing his mind the entire rest of the day, seeing you in pain with your braces, Choji decides to make food for you in hopes that it’ll make you feel better. After all, food solves everything! But when he finishes his so-called dish, a “nuclear disaster,” as Togame deadpanned, you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, maybe cooking isn’t my thing,” Choji admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “B-But it tastes better than it looks! I tried it!”

Despite his culinary skills—or lack thereof—his attempt to cheer you up works wonders in making you smile for the first time that day. And in the end, while coming home, he brings out something that is more fitting for you to consume—a pack of store-bought pudding instead from across the street, sitting beside you and sharing it. 

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Boyfriend

Written for @hinnymicrofic November 2023 - Prompt 1

So this didn't go in quite the direction I thought it would, and ended up being a bit less micro than I expected. Hopefully the Hinny isn't too tangential!

It was late by the time Harry made his way back to the Gryffindor dormitory. This had nothing at all to do with his desire to avoid both Ron and Dean, and everything to do with spending as much time with Ginny as physically possible - but he couldn’t deny it was a very happy side effect.

He took a moment to make sure his shirt was properly buttoned again, and tried to flatten his hair in a futile attempt to make it look like he hadn’t spent the past however-many-hours with Ginny in a variety of locations around the school grounds resolutely not discussing the Ravenclaw match. 

In the distance, he heard a door open, followed by a chorus of high-pitched squeals that cut off sharply as the door closed again. Clearly Ginny had reached her own dormitory. A soppy grin spread over his face as he thought of her again, no longer needing to imagine the taste of her lips, or the feel of her body pressed close to his. Unfortunately, this thought ensured that he needed to take a few more moments to compose himself before heading into his own dormitory.

When he finally pushed open the door, it was to discover that there was both good news and bad news. The good news was that Neville was already fast asleep, and (even better) neither Dean nor Seamus was there. Quite where they were given it was now well past curfew was a problem for someone else - Harry was perfectly happy to take the win. 

The bad news was that Ron was very definitely there, and even more definitely awake. He was lying on his bed, fully clothed, hands behind his head, trying (Harry thought) very hard to look nonchalant. 

Ron acknowledged his arrival with a nod. “Evening.”

“Evening,” replied Harry. He paused momentarily, then tried just as hard to look nonchalant as he strolled over to his own bed, and opened his truck to put his cloak back inside. Maybe, he hoped against hope, Ron wasn’t going to say anything else.

“So,” said Ron. 

Fuck, thought Harry.

“You and Ginny.”

“Uh huh. Me and Ginny,” replied Harry, hoping that his tone was as light and non-committal as he intended.

“You’re her boyfriend now, then?” asked Ron. 

Ron sounded conversational. Unconcerned. Calm. Harry was not fooled, not for one second. He shrugged awkwardly. He closed his trunk, then took as long as humanly possible to locate his pyjamas under his pillow. “Umm. Yeah. I guess so.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know so?” he asked, sharply.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Uh - no, I am,” he scrambled. “I definitely am.”

Ron cocked his head to one side. “Huh.”

Silence. Merciful silence. So why, Harry thought, was he suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to fill it? He fought it as hard as he could but ultimately, failed dismally.

“I mean, I asked her, officially, if that was what she wanted. And she said yes. So… Yeah, I’m her boyfriend. And… I really like her. I have done for ages. I… I’m not just messing about.”

More silence. Ron nodded thoughtfully. 

“So are we… y’know, are we still good?” asked Harry, hopefully.

Ron gave him a hard stare. “Well that depends, doesn’t it?”

Harry swallowed hard. “It does?” 

Ron’s brows wrinkled. “Yeah. Obviously.” 

“Umm… what on?”

Ron looked at him as if he was exceptionally dim. “Harry, come on! She’s my sister! There are rules!”

Harry felt his heart sinking. This was the exact thing that he’d been afraid of, that had held him back for so long. And just when everything seemed to be falling into place. “There are?”

“Yeah. Rules,” confirmed Ron.

Harry couldn’t help himself. It was like he could see the headlights of the approaching lorry, and he just couldn’t seem to get out of the way. “And the rules would be….?”

Ron sighed. “Okay, if you’re going to make me spell it out for you.” He held up his hand, fingers splayed, ready to count them off. “Firstly, you don’t hurt her. Ever. In any way.”

Well that one was straightforward enough. “Got it.” 

“Secondly,” counted Ron, “whatever it was that I saw in the common room before, I don’t want to see that ever again.”

Well, that one might be a touch trickier, but he was sure they could be discreet. “Er… Okay?”

“Thirdly,” continued Ron, pointing at his middle finger, “you have to escort her to and from all her classes, carry her bag and her books, serve her at mealtimes, give her your coat if she’s cold, do any shopping she needs. You know, just generally look after her properly.”

Harry frowned. That sounded a bit full on, but even then, it wasn’t so much that he wouldn’t do it, more that he couldn't imagine Ginny letting him. “Er, Ron?” he began.

But Ron wasn’t listening. “Fourthly, you can’t be alone with her at any time. You need a chaperone, permanently.”

Harry blinked, hard. How on earth did Ron think that could possibly ever work? “What? Ron, I don’t think…” he protested.

Ron just ignored him. “Fifthly, you don’t touch her. Ever. Anywhere. I’ll let you off with the common room thing because we hadn’t talked, but you can’t lay another hand on her. Or any other bit of you, for that matter.”

And at that point, Harry decided he’d had enough. “Oh come on, Ron! This is ridiculous! You can’t really expect…” he began, hotly.

But before he could continue, a horrible strangled noise came from Neville’s bed, making him jump. He jerked his head towards the sound, then realised that Neville was shaking violently under his blankets.

“Oh my god, Ron! I think he’s having a fit!” Harry dashed to Neville’s side, visions of Ron convulsing in Slughorn’s study flashing through his head. Where was he going to get a bezoar this time? 

Harry pulled back Neville’s blanket and rolled his friend onto his back. Neville’s face was bright red and screwed up as though he was in pain. Except wait - no, that wasn’t pain, was it? It was… hang on, was it laughter? 

Utterly confused, Harry turned to look at Ron, to find that he, too, was now laughing so hard he was practically doubled up with it.

“I’m sorry, Ron,” gasped Neville. “I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. That was brilliant! I don’t know how you kept a straight face.”

“Oh, Harry - your face! It was priceless!” said Ron, tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t worry, Neville. I was running out of fingers anyway.”

“You mean… all those rules? You were making them up?” Harry couldn’t decide whether he was furious or relieved.

“We were talking while you were out, about how far Ron thought he could push you,” confessed Neville.

“Well, you just snogged my sister in front of pretty much everyone,” agreed Ron. “I reckoned I deserved a bit of payback.”

“So you’re not pissed off with me?” Harry checked. 

Ron shook his head. “Nah. If you’re nuts enough to actually willingly go out with Ginny, I reckon that’s punishment enough.” Then he looked thoughtful. “Though I really would appreciate you keeping the snogging to a minimum while I’m around.”

Finally, relief won out, and Harry’s face split into a grin of his own. “Deal.”

[yappingyuta]

You have to tell me these things

Miguel O'hara (spiderman-2099) x Black f! Reader Oneshot

Warnings: Smut with plot (i guess), angst, 2nd thoughts, nipple play, oral (female receiving) -their might be typos-

This is my first time doing this or posting, so please be nice and i am also open to any advice. The reader is also telepathic and often doesn't use her gift.

Miguel has came back home to his lovely fiancé after a day of saving the city. Sexual tension and lust is in the air but will Miguel be able to communicate the things he wants her to know.

You were in the kitchen going through the cabinets when you had heard the door to your apartment open and shut… Your fiancé, Miguel, would be home. He grumbled out of stress, but his face softened and his aura became friendly when he saw you… He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist firmly, planting the gentlest kisses against your neck… 

“Good evening, my love.” 

was heard after he buried his face into your neck… You couldn’t help, but smile… It almost sounded like he was desperate for something. 

"Good evening, how was your day?" You say smiling and holding on to the arms wrapped around you. 

“…Rough… but seeing you makes it better!” 

He smiled, giving you a few more gentle kisses along your neck… he then pulled back, looking down at you… his gaze was gentle, yet he blushed a bit before looking away. 

“How was your day…?” 

"Mine was lonely without you as always mi amor." 

He could only smile, a big warm grin on his face… you noticed his hair had come undone, it was quite messy and untied… oh how you missed it! 

“Ah… you sound just as beautiful as I remember you… did I tell you you’re the love of my life?” 

He would say, pulling out a rose from his jacket… he had a bouquet of flowers, so many flowers that he was about to give you… 

“Here.” 

"Thank you Miguel, it's beautiful." 

He seemed pleased… looking down at you once more before a playful smile spread across his face… 

“Anything for my love…” 

He leaned down to kiss you passionately, and he didn’t pull away… it was a long one to cherish… 

"Me haces sentir muy bien." You say as you pull away from his kiss, looking up at him. 

“Good… I want you to feel good… to be happy and feel loved… I want you to feel just how much you mean to me, mi amor…” He would then kiss your forehead, smiling softly and gently playing with your hair. 

"Miguel?" 

“Hm? What is it, mi vida?” 

He turned to look down at you… you could see the love in his eyes… he really was going to spend the rest of his life with you. 

" I need you." You huff it out. 

“And I need you, darling….” 

Miguel pulled you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder… he wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving you all the comfort that you could ask for. It was so comforting and relaxing… he couldn’t do anything else but just hold you close… you were his everything, he couldn’t wait to call himself your husband, and he couldn’t wait to call you his wife. 

"Miguel I don't think you understand me." 

Miguel paused for a moment, slowly coming to the realizeation… he gave a small smile, looking down at you while you blush slightly. 

“Oh, mi amor… did I misunderstand you? You meant that, correct?” He gave out another soft, small laugh. 

"Sí, papi." 

His hand immediately went to cover his face , he was extremely turned on by the comment 

“M-Mira!” 

Miguel would exclaim, pointing in your direction with a wide grin on his face… he chuckled nervously, clearly not knowing how to respond. 

" Miguel, stop playing hard to get just fuck me already." You say in an impatient tone. 

Miguel was absolutely stunned into silence at the words he had just heard… then he blushed slightly, a flustered frown appeared on his face as he tried to process just what was happening. 

" Do you not want to touch me mí sol?" You said as you caress his face with a hand. 

“B-But… s-sweetheart, this is all so sudden… I-I wasn’t expecting this… at all…” 

Miguel said, still blushing but slowly building up a grin on his face… it seemed this was just something he had to get used to. 

You move your hand as you start speak "Okay, I get it. I shouldn't be s-" 

“No, no, no! That’s not what I meant!” 

Miguel would try to assure you, taking your face in his hands to gently cup it with both of his soft hands… he looked down at you, blushing… there was something about you he just couldn’t resist… 

“Dios mío you’re so beautiful…” He said, his voice was a bit softer and more gentle compared to before… 

" Confío en ti con toda mi vida." You say as you hold on to his wrists. 

“I-I trust you with my life as well… I-I do… you make me so happy… you make me feel safe… even when you make me blush… you make me feel like I’m in heaven…” Miguel paused for a moment before leaning down for another gentle kiss… he held it for a few moments and then pulled back.. 

"Please miguel...please." A soft tone on you lips. 

“Anything for you… mi amor.” 

He would respond before giving you another long, passionate kiss. He pulled back, giving you a gentle smile and stroking your hair. 

“I love you so much…” 

"I love so much mi príncipe." You say. 

Miguel’s face glowed with happiness at your words… his heart beat steadily, his eyes filled with joy and adoration… everything you said filled him with so much love… enough love to last a lifetime… you had melted Miguel’s heart once again… 

“I love you, too…” 

He would say, kissing you again, the kiss long and passionate… he couldn’t bring himself to break it until it had lasted several minutes. 

" Now will you fuck me." You say as you grab his hands and start to led him towards your Shared room. 

Miguel didn’t respond, but he kept hold of your hands as he was led away… he couldn’t say a word to you, it was as if he was in a trance… it was all happening so rapidly… he was completely enraptured by you. 

As you stop in front of the bed you look up at him as his figure towers over you and grab his chin "I need you to say it, yes or no." 

“Yes.” 

He would whisper, but he hadn’t really thought about what would happen afterwards… he hadn’t really expected to say it out loud, let alone so softly and quietly… though, he felt safe and comfortable with you and no one else. 

"Then take me." 

Miguel was still very flustered, though, he was taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, he let out a nervous chuckle before grabbing your waist and gently laying you down on the bed, slowly following you to lay beside you… he was looking down at you with a small, soft, and shy smile… 

“Is this what you wanted, my love?” 

" Sí, mí vida." Looking up at him. 

Miguel's lips gently caressed yours, gently, slowly, and lovingly… he couldn't take the feeling… he was so overwhelmed by love… by pure, unconditional love… it was everything he could have asked for… 

“You're all I could ever ask for, mi amor…” 

He whispered to you, gently pressing his forehead against yours, blushing immensely. 

"Eres todo y más pedí para Miguel." You guide your hands under his shirt and pull it over it his head as you both shiver for release. Your hand caresses Miguel's face as he is bathed in moonlight. "Take off my clothes Miguel." 

Miguel would do what you tell him to, removing your clothes with great care while slowly trailing his hands across your body… he looks you in the eyes the whole time as his heart pounds, but he was taking his time… he was going so slowly… 

“You’re so beautiful, mi amor…” 

He whispered, his breath shaking a bit… he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, you were everything to him and he was so grateful to be able to call you his one and only. 

"Lay on your back for me" 

Miguel didn’t question it, he simply followed your instruction… laying down on his back, he looked up at you with a gentle smile… there was so much trust and love in his eyes. 

“Of course, I would do anything for you… anything you wished…” 

He said, waiting for what you were going to do next. 

You looked at his bare strong chest, he was always so built and bulk. 

You love his chest so much watching him breathe in and out as air traveled. You move down to his waist and grab his pants and boxers pulling them down in one go. 

He was already leaking with pre-cum at the tip and swollen. How could he look bigger than before, Miguel's size has never been a problem...You loved it. 

"I want this to be out while I do this to you" 

You move back up to his chest and begin to lick his nipples. 

He became warm at the feeling of your tongue… he felt his heart race and his breathing become much heavier and faster… he couldn’t help his reactions as he gave out a quiet whimper, feeling your tongue against him was very exciting. 

“I-I… h-ah…” 

You heard his heart beat pounding in your ears, he closed his eyes and he let out a gentle moan, he hadn’t had any sort of reaction to anything like this… it felt weird but… he liked it… 

" Do you like when I do this to you, I wonder how you'll react if I suck on them." 

You feel him buck his hips up causing his cock to graze your opening. You moan out as you suck on one nipple while playing with the other flicking it back and forth. 

Miguel felt his blood rushing through his body… was this… this felt nice… his heart was pounding… he was feeling so many things… all these new and different emotions was a bit much to take in. He couldn’t say a word to you, he was too overwhelmed… 

You look down and can see he is cumming as he grunts and whimpers. You take your mouth off of his nipples 

"Ay, mi pobre amor, eres un desastre." you start to kiss his jaw as you rub his lower stomach. 

" I haven't even touched your cock yet Miguel and you've already cum, so needy" you say as you look him in his now blood red eyes, fangs showing as he pants heavily mouth open. 

He was panting, trying to catch his breath… Miguel couldn’t say a single word, his entire mind was just filled with a massive amount of emotions… he felt so warm… so free… like nothing else could bother him… 

“B-But… y-you…” 

He blushed, he just couldn’t get the words out… it had all happened so swiftly… he was feeling things like he was in a dream… 

"Can you eat me now?" Miguel looks fucked out as he grabs you and puts you your back while his talons graze you. He spreads your legs apart and hovers over your cunt practically drooling. 

"Habla de mí, pero aún así tu coño está tan húmedo y no te he tocado, mi linda zorra." he says this to you and it makes your stomach fill with butterflies. 

Without saying a word, and not wanting to turn you off, Miguel began to lower down his face… he wanted to be able to please you, he wanted to make you feel good, even if he couldn’t speak at this moment. 

He starts to lick at your lips back and forth, stopping at the end to suck on your clit while bringing up a finger to dive into your hole. 

"Ahhh..oh dios mios Cariño, mmhmh" you say as you moan with praise. 

“Mmhm… you like it when I do that, do you…?” 

Miguel said, looking up at you with a smile… his face was hated over, though he sounded less nervous and even a bit happy… even when he was flustered he still wanted to please you. 

“I’ll have to do it more often…” He says as he adds another finger into you. 

"Yes, you wil-" you moan out as he dives back in. 

“Mmhrr… you like feeling pleasure, don’t you…?” 

Miguel was talking to himself more than you but he was hoping you could answer… he didn’t know if the pleasure he was giving you was good or not. Either way, he enjoyed doing it to you, so he only continued to go faster… he wanted you to feel good… 

"Es tan buena ... tan jodidamente buena mi bello." You mutter as he continues to pleasure you. 

He quickened at your compliments… he couldn’t help but feel good himself… you were so happy because of his actions… he only continued, it was all for you. 

“Todavía no he acabado, mi amor. I’m not done with you, not yet~” Miguel laughed a bit, it was cute how he chuckled a little as he said that… 

You grab his hair and push him in deeper as you hiss from the pleasure below. 

Miguel’s face turned crimson, he was feeling nervous and excited all at once… he was having second thoughts about what he was doing.. he should have said ‘no,’ but he was too scared. 

“M-Mi amor… s-slower… p-please…” 

You read his mind by accident while being unfocused. You let go of his hair and try to move away " Miguel, ss- stop." 

Miguel slowly lifted his head, as he pulled back and took a deep breath. 

“Ah, I’m sorry… d-did I do something wrong…?” 

Miguel said, he only wanted to make you feel good, he didn’t want you to be upset… that’s the last thing Miguel would ever wish for… he would never want to upset you, especially when this was something you both wanted. 

"What did I ask you when we first got in here." Your eyes glassy as you look at him. 

Miguel looked a bit surprised by your question, he tilted his head out of confusion, though after a few moments he realized what you were asking, and he was feeling more embarrassed… he couldn’t even look you in the eye while feeling so. 

“You asked me to please you… mi amor…” 

He whispered softly, his face turning a deep shade of red… it almost hurt just how badly he was drunk off lust.. 

" I asked you yes or no, that I needed you to tell me with your own words and you said yes, so if you were didn't want to have sex why didn't you say no" you said as you try to keep yourself from crying. 

stopping at your words… he felt like he betrayed you, your trust… he wanted to break down, he wanted to run away… Miguel was feeling such a mix of emotions and he didn’t know how to get the words out to you. 

“No lo quería decir...”, Miguel said hesitantly in a low voice, he barely got the words out but he finally said it. 

"Baby, you should have said something, ahora parezco un maldito tonto Miguel." You say as you get off the bed and start to walk away. 

Miguel was stunned at your reaction, he felt his heart breaking, he never wanted to hurt you… he got off the bed and walked over to you, he placed a hand on your shoulder and he bent down to get to a similar eye level. 

“No lo eres, por favor… no digas las cosas como esa…” he said as he gently caressed your cheek… he wanted nothing more than to make this better… to make you happy. 

"Miguel, tus sentimientos son lo primero, especialmente cuando se trata de mierdas como esta cuando tenemos intimidad, si no estás deprimido, deberías decirlo." You say as you look into his eyes angry while crying. 

Miguel was hurt to see you in this state… he didn’t want to ever see you upset or angry… he looked up at you with tears forming in his eyes… he didn’t want to disappoint or hurt you… he knew that he should’ve spoken up, and he just got so excited to please you, he just forgot… it was all his fault. 

“Tienes razón… mi amor…” 

He whispered, holding your hand as he gently wiped away your tears. 

“I love you… I’m sorry…” 

"It isn't your fault, you just need to talk to me, we're getting married how will you communicate these things when it get deep." You say through your tears. 

Miguel sighed, but he couldn’t disagree… he needed to speak up… he couldn’t let his excitement get the better of him when it came to your feelings… 

“Tienes razón… voy a hablarte más, para que no pasen estas cosas nunca más… te prometo…” 

He gave you a loving smile, he felt so bad about everything… your feelings should always come before anything else… you were too important to hurt… he didn’t want you upset or saddened in any way. 

You wipe your face of tears as you go to the closet to grap one of his shirts to put on, when you slip it on it's huge on you as always "I'm going to the kitchen, i'm hungry." 

Miguel couldn’t help but smile as he saw you in one of his shirts, you always looked so cute no matter what you tried on, it was just too adorable… Miguel looked at you as you wiped your tears away… he would never forgive himself for making you cry, and he would never do something like that again, he only wanted to make you feel loved and cared for… to let you know that you never had to worry… that you were perfect to him. 

“I love you, mi amor… I’m sorry… so, so sorry…” 

As you walk out of the bedroom Miguel following behind " I try not to read your mind because I love you and I want you to have privacy but pleas-" as you turn around Miguel is still naked with cum all over his lower body, you look at him and say " Can you please go clean up and put some boxers on." 

Miguel went silent as he saw the look on your face…he looked down at his lower body, he was completely dazed… he didn’t know what to say, he just stood there. He had never felt so unveiled before… he felt so exposed and vulnerable… 

“...y-yes, mí amor...’” 

He replied, getting off the bed and walking towards the bathroom, badly hiding the fact he was just naked… the walk of pride. 

"thank you cariño." You said to him in a soft tone as he turned around "God I love his body." You thought as he walked away, you sat in the kitchen and waited for him. 

Miguel came back… he had wiped himself clean and put on pants, but he was still very embarrassed, he looked over at you and he gave a halfhearted smile. 

“All done… I uh… sorry for that… I-I feel a bit silly now…”, he said as he sat on a chair, he looked down in the table and sighed. 

“How long have I left you waiting for…?” 

"It was only 20 mins perro tonto." You say smiling. 

Miguel sighed, he felt relieved that you weren’t too angry at him still… he hated for you to be mad at him… the last thing Miguel ever wanted was for you to dislike him… he had a soft spot for you, he couldn’t just let you down. 

“That’s still a bit of time, mi amor…” 

Miguel smiled slightly as he turned to look at you, he couldn’t help but think you were really cute when you were annoyed. 

"Anyway how was your day being spiderman CEO and all" You said as you sat next to him at the table rubbing his arm 

“It was alright, I’ve had to deal with a bit of stress lately… people from the media trying to dig up my identity … it’s starting to feel more like a full time job… but as long as I’m with you…” 

He gave you a bright smile as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. 

“I’m happy.” 

"Ay, mí vida" You say as you cover your face. 

He giggled a bit as his ears turned slightly red. 

“Oh… you really do know how to make me blush still…” he muttered. 

“You're so sweet… you’re the love of my life and there’s nothing in the world I’d rather be doing then spending time with you…” 

Miguel leaned forward and kissed the top of your head. 

“You make me happier then I ever knew I could be.” You both say at the same time as you look each other in the eye.

[cookstorys]

hi I just found your blog and your the only one that I’ve seen that does outerbanks. If it’s not to much trouble could I request a rafe Cameron x sunshine male reader, were he wants to be a better person because the guy he’s crushing on never have up on him.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝙼𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛

_____________

Character- Rafe Cameron

Show/Movie- Outer Bands

Warning- Rafe being crazy 😝☝🏾, haven’t watch outer banks in a while so I had to remember what I could 🕴🏾, sunshine reader showed a lil dark side at the end😰

Author Notes - Im genuinely so sorry for the long wait, you’ve been waiting so long and you’ve been so extremely patient, thank you! Part 2? 🤭

Females dni

_____________

The time was 2:45 am. Granted the [hair color] haired boy should’ve been in bed enjoying his weekend but when he got a worrying text from his friend he awoke immediately. On your way to his location, you could only imagine what he had gotten into. For all you knew he could’ve killed someone. God, you hoped he didn’t kill anyone.

You slowly pulled up to a boat dock. Putting your car in park your heart almost immediately fell to your stomach. You’re the mayor’s son, alone in the dark, with nothing to protect yourself but a rusty pocket knife. ‘He’s your friend, and you love him’ you mumbled to yourself. After a few more minutes in your car, you nervously got out. Your footsteps were the only thing that could be heard as you hurriedly walked toward the docks.

If there wasn’t a light pole near the end of the dock you wouldn’t have been able to identify Rafe at the end of the dock staring down at his reflection. Slowly walked towards him, not wanting to scare him. Once you’ve beside him you spoke. “It’s pretty nice out huh?” His head snapped to look at you, obviously startled at your presence. “You came?” You chuckled at the dumb question. You gently shoulder-bumped him with a smirk. “What else are friends for.”

His stomach fluttered with butterflies. Friends. He could never quite get used to that word. He huffed out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Do you… do you think I’m a bad person?” Your eyes pulled away from the stars to observe his face. His eyes twinkled with sorrow, and his lips stayed still, as his jawline clenched and tightened. You concentrated your eyes back on the shining moon. “Everyone’s a bad person in some way. Yes, some out-way others. However, no one’s completely a good person. Not to mention what makes someone a bad person?” You could feel his confusing eyes land on your calm persona. “I’m lost.” He replied.

“Think of it like this. Someone who steals is considered a bad person correct? But what if they’re stealing to pay for their mother’s medical bills? Some might say stealing is stealing, he belongs in jail. Others might say he’s stealing for genuine reasoning so it’s ok.” Rafe chuckled at your tiny morale rant. “So, does that mean I’m a bad person?” Rafe asked and for the first time that night, you looked at each other. “You tell me, Rafe, are you?” His eyes purposefully pulled away from yours, clearly trying to not say something.

“I don’t know,” he cried. “I’ve been trying to be a good person to make you happy, but I can’t keep this up.” He burst into tears. You pulled him into one of your amazing hugs, his head rested on your shoulder as he continued to cry. “I almost drowned Sarah [name], my fucking sister. What the fuck is wrong with me.” He sobbed. You tried to keep your calm composure but the newly learned information took you aback but you refused to show it.

You pulled him away from your touch, taking his head between your hands. “You listen to me Rafe Cameron, you are not a bad person. Just someone who’s made mistakes. Now answer me this…is she dead?” You asked shaken up. “No, Topper stopped me before I could do anything more.” He answered finally calming down. “Good, Rafe where is Topper exactly?” Rafe had to think for a second but finally answered. “He should be at his vacation house until his dad’s back from business.” You smiled at this newly learned information, pulling Rafe back into a hug.

“Ok, remember Rafe I’m always here for you.”

[sweetestlittledarling]

Always Loved

Rating: PG

Summary: Sparrow has an interesting encounter in the garden

Note: Sliding in a close one for @vesuviaweekly's prompt 'To be Loved is to be'

              Sparrow could not believe her eyes. There in the shadow of the moon lit garden was a young woman. The young woman in front of had Sparrow’s eyes, her hair, and her face. This person was an exact copy, but clearly…younger. “You’re- “she began but the younger girl cut her off.

              “Are you…me?” the younger asked hesitantly.

              “I think so. But how- “

              “The spell worked!” The younger took Sparrow’s hand and held them tight, brimming from ear to ear. “I casted a spell to come to the future and it worked!” Her face fell at Sparrow’s clear confusion. “Don’t you remember?”

              “It’s...” Sparrow began but then realized that some things are better not known. She instead smiled gently. “A lot has happened, and I don’t always remember things like I used to but it’s okay. One memory that I do have is that the time spell if it is the one I am thinking of doesn’t last long correct.”

              “Only a couple minutes,” the younger sighed, “so I have to be quick. I am glad to see we haven’t changed our style too much.”

              “Can’t improve too much on a good thing already,” Sparrow chuckled brushing a hand through her hair in dramatic fashion.

              “And our brothers are they- “

              “Robin and Lark are doing well. Actually, much better than ever before.”

              “I assume Robin and Master Asra are still a thing?”

              “More than a thing, though I wouldn’t go saying anything just yet.”

              “And what about us and Freddy? Did he come back from the sea? Did we get married?”

              Sparrow felt a slight sinking in her stomach. Oh, so this version of herself was from THAT time. Oh, this might not be pretty then. Sparrow sighed as she squeezed the young woman’s hand. “I don’t think that you will remember this but…things don’t work out with Freddy.”

              “What?” The younger’s voice is already wavering with tears.

              “We become good friends years later but, in the end, up marrying someone else.”

              The emotions came quick now as the younger begins to sniffle and wipe as the oncoming flood of emotion turmoil. She lets go of Sparrow’s hand in order to wipe at the flow, but it is no use. “Why?” she sobs, “Why do they always leave me? What am I doing wrong?”

              “Nothing, you are doing nothing wrong,” Sparrow soothes as she takes the younger by the arm and leads her to a nearby bench. Once seated she is able to help with the tears. “Please don’t cry, it will be okay.”

              “How can you say that?” the younger said, pouting. “Freddy is gone! No one ever stays! I read books and try to do everything right!  I don’t know what else to do!” There is a small hiccup of emotion as the younger waves her hand. “I just want to be loved like in those stories!”

              Those words hit Sparrow in the heart as she suddenly had a moment of saying those very words. Was it this exact moment? She couldn’t be sure. But what she could be sure of was the fact that hearing them now brought back a few different memories. Memories of a tall pale man with wild red hair and stormy gray eyes…and Sparrow smiled as she once again took the younger’s hands into her own. “My dear Sparrow, you will be loved.”

              “R-r-really?” the younger sniffled through tears.

              “Yes, you will be loved in the most wonderful way by someone who will see you and change you for the better. He won’t seem like the prince in your stories at first, actually more like a villain but I assure you that they are kind and good, with a heart that loves deep and fierce. He loves us and in that we are happy.”

              “You are happy?”

              “Extremely.” Leaning her head against the younger Sparrow closed her eyes, focusing so she could share her warm feelings with her other self. “Please don’t cry Sparrow. Your love will come you just have to believe.”

              The younger sniffled again but there was a clear up turn in her voice as it faded away. “Thank you.”

              “Sparrow, there you are! I was looking for you my dear!”

              Sparrow opened her eyes and as she looked up at her love, she could already see the panic forming on his face. She hadn’t realized that she had begun to cry. She stood and reached for his face, placing them directly on either side of his face to stop him before he could form the anxiety filled words. “These are happy tears,” she said, leaning up and giving him a kiss. “I am loved and for that I am thankful.”

…

Author Notes: -Originally I was going to do this like a list and I did start one (which I might have to share snippets of) but I was thinking about things, especially since it is Mabon (the Fall solstice) which is a sabbath that is supposed to be about the harvest and being thankful.

-Another inspiration was Sparrow’s journey and song ‘That’s the Way It Is’ from the ‘&Juliet’ soundtrack that made me think of an older encouraging a younger to have faith in love even if it seems hard.

-This story was going to have a whole harvest celebration with everyone coming together at Portia’s Garden to celebrate the changing of the season as well as togetherness and thankfulness. May flesh this out one day into a longer story, though I’m debating if this was a dream or real in terms of what Sparrow is seeing. I kind of like it vague to tell you the truth.

-Sparrow has always had some of the most interesting growth for me. She started out as a dramatic young lady who was always giving out her heart only to have it break. After death she became more closed off, more focused on keeping what she had. Then Julian crashed in and along with Mazelinka, Portia, and all the rest Sparrow was able to open her heart again to the idea of being loved by someone. She’s calmed down quite a bit and become more of a motherly in a way (which is good because she is the first to become mom in the Songbirds, having both a son and a daughter).

[sesamestreep]

New Taylor Swift prompts! 16, Matt/Foggy

16. I’ve missed you all this time (from this prompt list) I don't know what this is, but it's technically set in the 60s, even though I did not make that explicitly clear anywhere in the text and it serves no purpose beyond just...vibes. I mostly just wanted to write silly new year’s fic, don’t worry about historical accuracy or world-building, everyone be cool! happy 2024, you silly and sultry geese! on ao3 here 🥂✨

Matt can still hear the noise of the party, barely dampened even when he's several rooms removed. He’d be able to hear it from the lobby of the building, truth be told, but here he can still make out conversations without having to focus that hard. He tries to direct his senses somewhere else—somewhere with less overlapping chatter and clinking glasses and shuffling feet over plush carpets—and breathe deep, so that maybe he can regain some equilibrium and hopefully go back to the party in a few minutes and act normal. It’s almost midnight, after all, and who goes to a New Year’s Eve party just to ditch out before midnight?

“Matthew Augustus Murdock,” a voice calls out from the far end of the paneled hallway.

“Not my middle name,” Matt says, smiling, “as you already know.”

“But wouldn’t it be better if it was?” Foggy asks, as he slides down to sit next to Matt. 

“Yes, I imagine I’d have lived a much easier and more successful life, if only my middle name was…what was it again?”

“Albert,” Foggy says, “or something. Who cares?”

“Good point,” Matt says, pressing his shoulder into Foggy’s happily. “How’d you find me?”

“I used the one and only superpower God graced me with: I’m like a homing pigeon for you specifically. I always know where to find you. It’s eerie, frankly, and damned useless, but—“

“Not to me,” Matt interjects, too readily. “I mean, for what it’s worth.”

Foggy nods, his overly long hair that he keeps meaning to get cut rasping over his shirt's stiff collar as he does. “That’s a good point.”

“I make those occasionally.”

“Occasionally,” Foggy repeats in a comically shrill, tiny voice, like he’s doing an impression of a cartoon mouse, for whatever reason. He’s a little drunk, clearly, which Matt could tell from the way he’s talking and the way he’s moving and the way he smells and, well, that’s probably enough evidence. 

“If I’m ever in trouble, I know who to call,” Matt says, which is maybe too honest, but Foggy doesn’t have to know that.

“You wouldn’t even have to call, Matt,” Foggy replies, solemnly grasping his shoulder. “If you’re ever in trouble, I’ll know and I’ll come running.”

“I would pay real money to see you actually run anywhere.”

“You’d have to, my man. I imagine it would take a massive breakthrough in science for you to see anything at all, and those things tend to cost a pretty penny,” Foggy says, grandly. “And also, on a much more serious note, go fuck yourself.”

Matt laughs and collapses against Foggy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I just know how much you hate running.”

“Which means you’ve entirely missed the inherent capital-R romanticism of me offering to do it for you! Classic Murdock. Absolute philistine behavior. I should expect it by now.”

“Your gallantry is wasted on me,” Matt agrees, still doing that thing of being too honest.

“I know,” Foggy sighs, theatrically, “and yet, here I am.”

“Why are you here, anyway?”

“Missed you, came looking. Same as ever.”

“Aw,” Matt says, leaning into his side even more. “You’re right, I really don’t deserve you.”

“I never said that. You said that,” Foggy says, poking him. “But anyway, I lied and the real answer to your question is that I got tired of girls coming up to me and asking where my handsome friend had got to.”

Matt knows two things with a decent degree of certainty: Foggy hadn’t been lying when he gave his first answer (Matt would have heard it in his heartbeat and likely noticed any other number of tells that Foggy has when he does lie, besides) and that no one would have had to ask him to go looking for Matt after he disappeared. His joke about homing pigeon-like tendencies is more truthful than either of them would like to acknowledge. When Matt goes missing—as he very frequently does at these types of things—Foggy always comes to find him. Matt’s been doing this since way before he met Foggy—having overly heightened senses does not make crowded social functions more manageable in general—but he can probably admit that he does it more now that he knows someone will come looking for him.

He also knows that girls like Foggy a lot more than Foggy thinks they do. He’s always talking about how girls seek him out to get in with Matt, but Matt doesn’t really believe that. There have been a few girls, here and there, certainly enough that Foggy’s right to be a little paranoid about it, who have turned their sights from Foggy to Matt, which on top of being unkind is just bad business sense. Anyone with a brain in their head would see that Foggy’s the better option of the two of them. And Matt’s got plenty of flaws, but he’d certainly never take up with anyone who hurt his best friend, so it doesn’t work out the way anyone hopes it will, anyway, when they do. Still, he's sure Foggy could have found a nice girl to keep him entertained until Matt got back to the party, if he put his mind to it, and that maybe he'd just been looking for an excuse to duck out himself when someone asked about Matt.

“This is where I got to,” Matt says, with a slightly pathetic shrug.

“Who says I meant you?” Foggy asks, absently. “I have other friends that are handsomer than you!”

“Not only do you not have a single handsomer friend in all the world,” Matt says, belatedly unsure if ‘handsomer’ is even a word, but otherwise too confident to turn back, “you don’t even have another friend at this party.”

“I’m exceedingly charming, Matthew,” Foggy over-enunciates. “Everyone at this party is my new best friend.”

Matt loops his arm through Foggy’s and leans his head back against the wall. “Sounds like I’ve got a lot of competition.”

“You’re not having fun?” Foggy asks, the change of topic so sudden and his tone so unexpectedly serious that Matt has a brief moment of confusion that he means with this joke they’ve got going. It takes a second to realize he means at the party in general.

“It’s fancy.”

“Too fancy, you mean…”

“You know I don’t go in for all this stuff,” Matt says, shrugging. 

“Like I do, you mean?” Foggy asks, lightly, even though Matt can feel him warming with embarrassment. 

“Like I used to,” Matt clarifies, and trusts his meaning to be clear.

“Right,” Foggy says, and the tone in his voice is the one he uses exclusively when he refers to Matt’s ex-girlfriend from junior year who almost caused him to drop out. “Fair enough, I suppose.”

“You can head back. Really, I don’t mind. I just need a few more minutes.”

“No, you’re right. It’s…a bit stuffy, isn’t it?” Foggy muses. “I mean, I didn’t even know people still had apartments like this, outside of, well, the Rockefellers.” 

The apartment belongs to the parents of one of their friends from law school and the only reason they have free rein over the place is because the parents are vacationing in Aspen with friends. Even without being able to see it, Matt can tell it’s a swanky place. The rug he’s currently sitting on is so plush that he can basically sink his entire hand into it. Every table he passed on his way to this hiding place smelled so strongly of Pine-Sol that there has to be a maid on staff, if not a team of them. He’s fairly certain this random hallway he discovered is actually a back passage to the kitchens, so the servants don’t have to be seen coming and going. He's not sure if he asked their host about it that they'd even know it existed. And Matt’s shoes, as well as most of his clothes, are secondhand.

“You were having fun until I made you feel bad,” Matt says, tucking his chin onto Foggy’s shoulder and trying to look contrite.

“No, I mean—I like having you around, Matt. You keep me honest,” Foggy laughs. “Two and a half years of law school, four years at an Ivy before that, I think I’ve just made peace with having to go to parties in uncomfortable clothes and to make conversation with people I don’t really like. I don’t think I’d call it fun, but it’s a social life of some kind, I suppose.”

“We should have gone to Josie’s,” Matt says, holding onto him too tightly, even with the excuse of a few drinks.

Foggy snorts, thinking of the beloved dive bar they sneak off to in Hell’s Kitchen whenever they can, whenever they’re home. It’s only a matter of blocks to get there, but sometimes, at school, it feels farther away than all that.

“I don’t dare imagine the caliber of our prospects for a kiss at midnight there,” Foggy says, with an exaggerated shudder.

“Can’t be any worse than our prospects here,” Matt replies. 

Foggy whistles, low, under his breath. “You’re going to be disappointing a lot of nice girls with that kind of talk, Murdock!”

“Better to disappoint them now than later,” Matt says, fully burying his face in Foggy’s shoulder now. He gets like this when he drinks. Foggy's used to it.

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t do the whole ‘going steady’ thing anymore,” Foggy says, leaning in conspiratorially. “You’re too damaged and that means you’re never going to get married, so you’d rather not lead anyone on.”

“You say that like it’s not true,” Matt whispers back.

“It isn’t true, you moron!” Foggy laughs. “One day, some beautiful girl is going to turn your head so quick, you’ll have neck problems for the rest of your life!”

“Sounds uncomfortable,” Matt says.

“And I’ll be there,” Foggy continues, like Matt didn’t even speak, “laughing.”

“Well, as long as you’ll be there, Foggy.”

“Did I mention you’re a moron?”

“Yes. A few times now, in fact.”

“Then, I’ve done my duty.”

“And what about you?” Matt asks. “When’s somebody going to turn your head?”

“Somebody turns my head every goddamn day, it feels like,” Foggy grumbles. “The problem isn’t my head. It’s everybody else’s.”

“There’s plenty of girls who’d be more than happy to trap you in matrimony.”

“Hmm, well, I’m sure that’s true enough,” Foggy replies, thoughtfully. “I guess it’s more about finding someone you wouldn’t mind being trapped with.”

“And you haven’t found her yet, I take it?”

“No,” Foggy says, sadly. The girl he dated for most of their sophomore year—the one everyone had been certain Foggy was going to end up marrying—had just gotten engaged last month. Foggy still wasn’t entirely over it, Matt was pretty sure.

“And you’re certain she’s not here?” Matt asks, encouragingly.

“Unlikely,” Foggy says. “None of the girls here would be caught dead with me in the daylight. One of them might be unscrupulous enough to let me kiss her at midnight, though.”

“So, go back,” Matt replies. “Find the girl in that room with the lowest standards and lay one on her!”

“I will if you will.”

“I don’t know this for sure, but I do have serious doubts that any girl in the room will let the both of us kiss her at midnight.”

“I meant, you should—you know what I meant!” Foggy exclaims, embarrassed again. 

“I was trying to be funny!”

“‘Trying’ being the operative word there…”

Matt sighs. “What’s the point of kissing someone at midnight when there’s almost no chance of seeing them ever again after tonight?”

“You’ve just described the point yourself! It’s just for fun, to start the year off right! There’s no pressure!” Foggy says, disbelieving. "What’s gotten into you? I thought zero expectations romance was your specialty!”

“Maybe I’m just not a New Year's kind of guy.”

Foggy hums thoughtfully. “Can I tell you my theory?”

“Your theory? About what?”

“About you, and New Year's, and all of that.”

“Oh. Sure. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re afraid,” Foggy says.

“Afraid?” Matt asks. “Of…New Year’s Eve?”

“You don’t want to participate in these silly little rituals, like kissing someone at midnight, because you’re secretly terrified that something good is going to happen to you, and then you won’t know what to do with yourself.”

“Really, Foggy. Be serious!”

“I am serious,” Foggy replies, casually. “You’re scared of being hit over the head with it again.”

“Hit over the head with what?”

“Love,” Foggy says, simply. “You felt it once and it nearly derailed your whole life, so now you avoid any situation where you might accidentally meet someone interesting or have more feelings than you’ve carefully rationed out for yourself for that particular day.”

Matt swallows, feeling utterly exposed. It’s not something he would have been able to say for himself an hour ago, but the words feel true to him coming from someone else. He doesn’t like anybody knowing him well enough to know all of that, though, and if it wouldn’t be so utterly obvious, he’d pull away from Foggy right now just to be safe. Like that would even help, he thinks reluctantly.

“You missed your calling not going into psychiatry, Foggy,” he says, stiffly, once he’s gathered his wits enough to form sentences.

Foggy’s hand, warm and a little damp, closes over Matt’s where it’s still resting on his arm. Matt wants nothing more than to flinch away from it, but he controls the urge in the interest of saving face.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Foggy says, quietly, like there’s a chance they might be overheard somehow and he wants Matt to be the only one who hears this. “I’m just trying to tell you that, in avoiding fun and frivolous things, you are not sparing yourself from being hit over the head. If you’re meant to get hit over the head, it’ll happen whenever and wherever Cupid so chooses. It’ll happen at the deli or the bank or while you’re waiting for the bus. Which means that the only thing you’re ultimately sparing yourself from is fun and frivolity, and that’s a stupid way to live your life. That’s all.”

“I think you just called me a moron again,” Matt says, weakly. He doesn’t know what else to say. The rest of it is...too much to consider.

“I called you stupid, actually, but I see your point.”

In the distance, Matt hears the noise of a crowd of people all simultaneously trying to shush each other, with limited success. He imagines even Foggy can hear it too a moment later when they all begin counting aloud.

“Last chance…” Matt says, tipping his head backwards in the direction of the room where everyone’s gathered.

“It doesn’t matter,” Foggy says, apropos of nothing, as far as Matt can tell. He’s about to ask what he means when Foggy continues, anyway. “I have someone who meets your criteria.”

“My criteria?”

“Yeah. You’ll only accept a kiss from someone you’ll see again after tonight, right?”

“Uh, I don’t think I said ‘only’, I just meant—”

“Too bad,” Foggy says, as the countdown reaches its conclusion. “Happy New Year.”

Matt’s halfway through formulating a question or an objection of some kind, which is the only reason he turns in Foggy’s direction at that moment. It’s clear from the noise of surprise Foggy makes that he absolutely had no intention of kissing Matt right on the mouth and was probably, in fact, aiming for his cheek, trying to be funny and charming after Matt was such a spoilsport about the whole kissing at midnight thing. If Matt hadn’t moved, there’s no doubt in his mind that that’s what Foggy would have done and then it would have been over and they’d already be laughing about it and moving on. But Matt did move and, even awkwardly off center, Foggy is kissing him on the mouth right now and they’re both just frozen like that, shocked and useless.

Matt doesn’t give himself much credit for genius. He’s reasonably smart, and can be even smarter if he applies himself to a subject and really studies up on it, but there’s plenty of people in any given room smarter than he is, most of the time. He has his moments, though, and this is one of them. He sees very clearly the two paths available to them. Down one, this moment stretches awkwardly and they allow it to become a source of discomfort and then outright pain that they'll avoid talking about for years, or maybe possibly forever. Regardless, it has the power to ruin their friendship and Matt simply can't abide that. Down the other, they don’t flinch from it and they don’t make it any stranger than it has to be and it becomes one weird but not fully objectionable moment in their long and storied relationship. They’re not going to trot it out as an anecdote at parties, sure, but they’re not going to become crazy about denying it happened either. If Matt can steer them in the direction of the latter, he thinks maybe it will all be okay, but it’s going to require him not to make matters worse. For whatever reason, the only way he can think to not do that is by kissing Foggy back.

It’s immediately apparent that, momentary genius or no, while it does not technically make things worse, it also does not make them better. Then again, Foggy makes a sort of interested noise as he feels Matt return the kiss, which Matt is infinitely better off for knowing about and having heard and being able to think about some other time when he’s alone preferably. 

They don’t take it any farther than just that. They’re not necking in some random person’s hallway or doing anything truly objectionable. They just stay there, mouths pressed together so that Matt can smell (and sort of taste) the champagne Foggy’s had and the last cigarette he smoked and a hint of that sugary gum he always chews, even though he hasn’t had a piece since before they came to the party. It mostly feels, more than anything else, like they’re breathing together and it’s not sexy the way wild, passionate groping in the dark can be, but it’s intimate in its own unique way. Matt, against his own better judgment, puts a hand on Foggy’s cheek, and he doesn't really know why beyond just really wanting to and that seems to be reason enough.

Foggy doesn’t try to slip his tongue into Matt’s mouth—despite the alarming reality that the moment Matt realizes that’s not what he’s doing, he also realizes he’d let him—or try to escalate matters one bit. His hand is still grasping Matt’s collar from when he first pulled him in, but his other one doesn’t roam. His lips, still pressed to Matt’s, only move to exert a little more pressure and to alter the angle at which they meet slightly. He takes precisely zero liberties and makes no effort to get fresh with him at all. It’s very gentlemanly, and Matt doesn’t know what to do with himself because it doesn’t feel awkward or fumbling at all. It feels like restraint, and once he knows that, everything is different.

The tune of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ reaches him from the other room, but it’s drowned out almost entirely by the sound of Foggy’s heartbeat in Matt’s ears. Foggy must hear it too, though, because he breaks their kiss with the worst sort of gentleness, pulling back only enough for them both to have space to breathe but not far enough that Matt can’t feel that breath on his face.

Matt traces his thumb over the curve of Foggy’s cheek before dropping his hand back down into his own lap and licks his lips as he slowly turns away. 

“Happy New Year,” he says, aiming for calm and unaffected and likely missing it by a lot.

“You too,” Foggy says, even though he already said it first. His heart is still beating too fast and too close and too loud for Matt to read his tone, which is too bad, because he’d really like to know how Foggy feels right now and if he feels anything like Matt does.

Because Matt feels like he’s been hit over the head.

✨

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Circle None can Break- Part Twelve

Summary: Selene and Edwin have a small heart-to-heart before heading down to the Hammer and Anvil's barroom to drown their collective sorrows, Firetome finds out an interesting tidbit that will help his own schemes and all the dwarves of Fangthane have noticed that the mountain's unhappy about something as it won't stop tremoring.

Words: 2,487

Warnings: None that I can tell. Enjoy the shippy fluff that's in here.

Notes: I am very pleased to have found out what motivates Firetome to do what he does in Fangthane's Folly and the Anvil's Fall. in the meantime, I need to go give Edwin a hug

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @sparrow-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @writeblrsupport, @writeblrcafe

Firetome drummed his fingers on the desk impatiently. It had been hours since he’d sent young Gurrisdottir off to the Archives to find those records for him. True, it the records he was after were probably highly restricted, but surely the Archivers would be happy to help her once she showed them the note he’d given her. 

A Shaper? Here, in Fangthane? Either Kherillim had seen fit to Bless a different family due to the apparent doom that was coming for the world, or his was not the only family left in the mount with a connection to the Purged. He would know for certain either way if the girl would just hurry up with those records already!

Firetome’s mind spun with the possibilities. While Gruksdottir had clearly been raised Moradhir, was her family simply low-lying Throffites like his own? If so, then perhaps they could be convinced to join him and his fellows in unseating the Heretical Goldseeker line for good. The High Inquisitor seethed at the old memory that bubbled up to the surface:

“But Da, if Moradin’s not even really from Titan, why do we even have to worship him?” the beardlet protested. He yelped as his father swiftly clipped him around the ear,

“Hold yer wheesth, lad!” the older dwarf hissed, “D’ye want to be taken away, like yer uncle was?” Skarld’s eyes went wide with pain and fear and he fervently shook his head. His father nodded in satisfaction, “Then don’t go around saying such things where folk can hear. All you need to ken is that Moradin overthrew the Goddess that created us and the king and his family agree with Him.”

While Firetome now knew his father had greatly simplified the matter, the fact yet remained that the royal family were responsible for allowing an Outsider God into the midst of the people of Fangthane, no matter how much they now insisted that Throff was still just as revered as their supposed Dwarf Father. He was startled out of his thoughts as the door to his office swung open,

“I finally got the records ye asked for, yer Eminence.” Gurrisdottir’s voice called from the doorway, “I’m sorry it took so long, I had to spend an hour arguing with one of the Archivers, and it took them an age to find the one you were after.” The younger dwarf frowned as she placed the slates onto the desk in front of Firetome, but said nothing as she waited for permission to leave. Firetome smiled at her,

“Thank you very much for getting this for me, Birghe.” he said in his most fatherly tone, “Please don’t worry about it taking so long. Ordinarily I’d ask Vera to get these for me, but she’s out on a training exercise. I’ll have a word with the Archivers and see that this sort of nonsense doesn’t happen again.” The sandy-haired Acolyte bowed deeply,

“Thank you, sir. Do you need anything else?” she asked. Firetome shook his head,

“No, thank you, Birghe, you’re free to return to your duties.” he said, “Please pass on my apologies to Sister Imraksdottir for keeping you away for so long.” He gave the younger woman another indulgent smile as she bowed again, then walked out of his study. The smile dropped from his face the moment she closed the door behind her,

“I suppose I’d better keep an eye. I don’t need Ragnarsson questioning why I’m even after these.” he muttered, sliding the protective slate to one side and peering at the family tree that was now laid out before him. The High Inquisitor’s eyes slid up from the bottom, tracing the line from Gruksdottir herself until he noticed a name familiar to him from his grandfather’s stories,

“Well now. I wonder how long the Church was going to keep that little tidbit under wraps.” he murmured, stroking his beard as he stared at the dotted line that had been crossed through between ‘Merewin Stonespeaker’ and ‘Ragnar Goldseeker’. “Looks like I need to ask the Record Keepers some questions.” Smiling to himself, Firetome pulled out a drawer and picked up the winged eye necklace from it,

“If all goes to plan, then Fangthane will be ours by the end of the year, my Lord. Then we can finally oust the Usurper Gods from this world for good and reinstate the Natural Order.” The necklace grew warm in his hands,

Firetome’s smile fell, what a disappointment. He nodded,

Well done. However, do not rely on the help of the Shaper girl. She has been too corrupted by the Usurper to be useful to our cause. Be careful around her.

“Of course, my Lord.” he murmured, gently placing the necklace back in the drawer and locking it. He glanced back at the Record on his desk. Well, if nothing else, he had evidence that King Jotunn’s decree hadn’t entirely wiped out the Redhammer heritage from Fangthane. Oh what a delight it would be to throw that in His Majesty’s, and the Church’s faces. Satisfied, Firetome returned to the paperwork he’d abandoned upon getting the news about Gruksdottir, feeling much better about his chances.

Edwin grimaced as he watched Selene throw her belongings into her personal Bag of Holding,

"I'm so sorry that I couldn't help any more." He sighed, "Will you be alright to make it back to Toreguarde alone?" He asked. Selene huffed out a stressed sigh,

"Getting back is the easy bit." She said, her voice strained, "The hard bit is going to be telling everyone else that there's nothing I can do about the Seal, aside from hoping for yet another Divine Intervention. At least I've got time to organise a full evacuation for when…" she trailed off, shaking her head and gulping down her emotions. 

Edwin his fingers over his brow. Selene didn't need to finish her sentence. He knew full well what would be coming the minute the Seal failed entirely. Gods damn it all, why was king Storri being so damned stubborn? The cleric felt the floor under his feet vibrate, a low dangerous growl emanating from the earth below. While he was no devotee of Moradin or Throff, he'd lived in Fangthane long enough to know what such a thing portended. He cautiously laid a hand on Selene's shoulder, his heart squeezing painfully at her dejected slump,

"While His Majesty is being unreasonably stubborn, I believe that his mind can, and will, be changed." He said softly, "Don't give up entirely. Not yet." He said, his voice soft. Selene leaned back into the touch, shuddering out another sigh. She looked up at him with a small, fragile smile,

"I'll try." She said, "If he does, can you let me know? I'd rather know if I need to call off any evacuation efforts than take the risk that he won't, or will leave it until the last possible moment." Edwin nodded,

"Of course I will." He said, squeezing his old friend's shoulder. Selene leaned her head against the cleric, briefly closing her eyes,

"Thank you." She murmured. Edwin resisted the sudden urge to kiss the woman's forehead. Where had that even come from? He settled for hugging her instead,

"No matter what happens, I will be here any time you need me." He told her, "Even if you get told I'm busy, keep insisting. I'm not leaving you to face this alone." The cleric's resolve hardened as Selene nodded. He couldn't, and wouldn't, allow disaster to befall anyone else. He'd already failed Alexis and Fai. He wasn't going to fail Selene. Edwin felt oddly disappointed when Selene finally broke the hug,

"Sorry, I should be getting on with this." She said with a half-hearted chuckle, "Don't want His Royal Pain In The Ass sending over his kingsguard to kick me out." Edwin shook his head to clear it,

"I seem to recall you saying he was giving you another day." He pointed out, "At least stay until morning, Snorri and Gruk are going to be right upset if you leave without saying goodbye properly." His heart skipped when Selene snorted, looked back at him and smiled,

"I suppose it would be a bit rude to up and leave without having a few pints for the road." She agreed, "Let me just make sure I've got everything, then we can head down to the bar."  

Archlector Vanskleig sighed as he felt the floor under his feet vibrate violently. While he was of a mind to march up to the palace to give the young king of Fangthane what for following his little tantrum at the meeting earlier that day, the wrath the mountain was channelling was not Moradin's. It was Throff's. The elderly dwarf settled into his armchair and picked out another biscuit from the box next to him, dipping it into his tea to soften it. Best to leave Her to it, he decided, he could help deal with the cleanup after.

Half the mountain was abuzz with rumours that the elemental of Fangthane was getting restless as the tremors continued throughout the afternoon. The landlord of the Elemental's Crack spent most of that time making sure that everything in the pub was utterly secured and couldn't fall off if the Elemental did decide to go for a walkabout. 

Gruk frowned as he felt the floor under his feet vibrate again. Despite his father having been a Stonespeaker –one of the best of his generation – the ability had skipped a generation, leaving the smith unable to figure out what in the Pit was going on with the mountain he called home. It didn’t help that the one family member who could hadn’t felt like coming to her uncle’s pub for almost a month. Snorri placed Gruk’s stein in front of him, breaking the younger man out of his reverie,

“What’s on your mind, wean?” The elder Ironforge asked, sitting down heavily in the seat next to Gruk. Gruk snorted,

“I wish ye’d stop calling me that. I’m not even the youngest one.” he protested.Snorri chuckled,

“Well, if Ufgi showed up more often, I wouldn’t need to.” he pointed out, “So, I’ll ask again, what’s on yer mind?” Gruk looked at his older brother incredulously,

“Aside from my youngest daughter stressing herself out to the hells and back, the fact that we ken that, unless she gets out there to help, that we’re gonna have another Demon War on our hands and now the mountain’s complaining about something and neither of us can tell what in the Pit’s wrong with it?” he replied, ticking off each issue on his fingers. Snorri shrugged,

“Well, I think I can help with the last one.” he said, “Word in the vein from the Stonespeakers that’ve turned up here rather than risking the Crack is that summat’s gone and upset it. They can’t say what because, apparently, it’s talking nonsense and no one can figure it out, but that seems to be the general gist.” Gruk scoffed,

“Da probably would’ve figured it out hours ago.” he said bitterly, “Knowing our luck it’s because that damn Seal’s already given way.” 

“Given I haven’t had any panicked Scrys sent to my personal mirror in the last hour or so, I very much doubt it.” Selene’s voice stated from behind the two dwarven men. Snorri grinned at her,

“Well, that’s a relief, but it still doesn’t answer the question of what the hells is up with the mountain.” The ex-slayer’s face fell when he noticed the pack lying at Selene’s feet, “Ye’re leaving already?” he asked. Edwin grimaced as he joined the group at the table, two pint glasses already in his hands,

“His Majesty has decided that he’s had enough of our visitor and is giving her until tomorrow to pack up and get out.” he sighed, placing the glasses on the table. Gruk’s frown deepened further,

“What, did ye insult his honour or summat?” he asked. Selene shrugged and necked half her pint before answering,

“He started it.” she replied shortly. Snorri slowly got up and sent his brother a look,

“I’ll go get Reggie to deal with the bar tonight.” he said, “I’ll be right back.” Gruk cocked his head as he returned his attention to the Grand Magus and the Abouna,

“What even happened?” he asked, already dreading the answer as the vibrations in the floor became stronger. Selene downed the rest of her pint, huffed a stressed sigh and spent the next ten minutes informing the increasingly outraged smith of what had transpired in her meeting, quietly leaving out the location of the God Clay at Edwin’s suggestion.

“So, in summary, I’m free to go get the godsdamned clay if I feel like it, but His Majesty will be damned if he’s going to actually help.” she finished. The whole pub had stopped to listen into the wizard’s rant the moment it had started, after all such rants were normally extremely entertaining. This one, however, had not been. Right as voices started to rise in protest, the floor jerked violently once, then fell still, causing the voices to die almost immediately. Edwin, who had been leaning on the table, shaking his head as he listened to Selene’s rant, shot upright, jolted from his thoughts as a shock of divine power rippled through the magical weave. A dozen other dwarves followed suit seconds after, most of them lower level clerics and paladins of various faiths. Selene, looked around the room, frowning as she felt a smaller ripple in the weave,

“What was that?” she asked, a pit of dread building in her stomach. Edwin shook his head,

“I’m… not sure.” he admitted, pulling out his Holy Symbol and muttering a prayer to it. He sighed in relief when Galana immediately answered his call, a soothing river of warmth filing him from head to toe.

My sister’s taking care of things.

Edwin blinked. It was rare for Galana to give him any direct messages, especially one as short and straightforward (yet still frustratingly vague) as that. He shrugged at the perplexed look Selene was giving him,

“Apparently Throff’s taking care of matters.” he said, “I’ve no idea how.” he added as Selene opened her mouth. The wizard grimaced,

“Well, at least it’s something.” she grumbled. She glanced over to Gruk, who was frowning into his stein, “You alright there Gruk?” she asked.

Gruk peered into his beer as though it held any answers to the questions that now ran through his mind. He was no cleric- he hadn’t once felt the Call like Meredith had, and he had never had any inclination to get involved with the divine in any way, shape or form-and yet he knew he’d felt something at the same time as all the clerics and paladins had. His stomach twisted uncomfortably right as the doors of the Hammer and Anvil were slammed open.

[chaeyablood]

I Know the World's a Broken Bone Part 4

vampire chaeya au

chapter masterlist

words: 1492

CW: slight gore, unsanitary handling of wounds

The vampire had hardly noticed the actual bullet coming out until he saw Tartaglia about to toss it in his mouth—blood and all—like a piece of candy. "Stop-!" He quickly sat up and snatched the man's wrist, immediately confiscating the bullet. "Don't you know that ingesting vampire blood would turn you?!"

Tartaglia simply pouted. "It looks so tasty though."

The vampire sulked, but he couldn't deny that he was worried about another attack so soon. Even though he could easily handle getting shot three times with silver bullets, he was going to have a few hours of downtime while his body repaired itself.

"Do me a favor and pretend to be asleep. I'm going to tell my family that you're an injured hunter. Don't say anything, don't open your eyes. They won't notice anything wrong if you cooperate, okay?"

"Do you kidnap injured humans frequently?"

"No," the question made Tartaglia laugh, "but it wouldn't be the first time. Don't worry, you're in safe hands." The vampire only huffed in response.

It wasn't long before the two arrived at Tartaglia's family home. He smiled a bit to his family, not minding their faces of surprise.

"Ajax..." His mother frowned, apprehensively eyeing the seemingly unconscious man.

"Mama, he will be just fine. Don't worry."

"That's a lot of blood," commented his brother, having briefly poked his head in to see what Ajax had brought home for dinner.

"He's a hunter, Anthon. There was an accident but it's not that serious. He'll be okay."

"No dinner?"

"No game this time. Sorry. I'll cook something else for you."

"Big brother!" A higher pitched voice exclaimed suddenly after running into the room. "Did you finally catch the vampire??"

Tartaglia laughed a little. "Nope, Teuce. It evaded me once again. But you'd better not go out into the woods or it'll eat you up."

There was a disappointed sound from the little boy but he seemed to know better than to argue with his oldest brother, if the vampire had to guess. He could also smell the presence of another kid, but they were silent and Kaeya could feel their eyes on him. It was slightly unsettling. All he could do was wait for Tartaglia bid them goodnight and carry him away from their prying eyes and ears.

It wasn't long before he set the vampire down on the bed, seeming pleased with the bit of blood that was now staining the white sheets. The vampire sat up as soon as it was out of the man's arms, not seeming happy to be stuck indoors in an unfamiliar house full of unfamiliar people. It said nothing, but the apprehensive look in its eye was enough for Tartaglia.

"Don't worry..." He tried to soothe the vampire again. "None of them are going to bother you. Unless you count me."

The creature scoffed. "I don't even get to be alone?"

"My house, my rules. Not that I think you would hurt my family, but I won't be too careful. I don't intend to find out the hard way."

"Ugh. You humans are so annoying. I just ate a few days ago. I have no need to feed again so soon."

"Is that so?"

"It is. We feed every two weeks or so."

"Hmm, I see. Well," Tartaglia grinned as usual. "That isn't going to stop me from keeping an eye on you."

The vampire huffed. "You're the worst."

"Thank you!" The ginger's grin only grew wider. The vampire could only look at him with contempt in return.

"When am I going to be able to call you by your name?"

"Never." The man with blue hair half glared at him. "You don't need to know it. Don't try to be so buddy-buddy with me. I have no interest in being close to you."

"And yet you trusted me to help you when you needed it."

"I could have fought them off if I had wanted to. I didn't need your help."

"Sure, sure... and you don't think you need a place to rest and yet you let me bring you here. Why is that?"

"Stop arguing with me. You clearly are the type of person who wants to play the hero, so I let you. End of story."

"How kind of you to indulge me, comrade." Tartaglia laughed. "Indulge me a little longer and let me get these bullets out of you."

"Sure. Go ahead." The vampire shrugged off Tartaglia's coat and his own shirt so that the ginger could properly access the bullet wound in its shoulder. He did somewhat bask in how Tartaglia looked over his torso. He knows how beautiful others find him, and despite not seeing it himself, the reactions of others were somewhat validating.

The vampire scrunched his face up a bit as Tartaglia began to pry the scab off of his first wound. Vampire blood is thicker than human blood so it took a bit of digging even just to separate it from the cool flesh. Not to mention that he'd have to reach inside of it since the goal was to retrieve another bullet.

"Does it hurt, comrade?" Tartaglia didn't seem concerned. He had what might have been a hunger in his eyes. What a strange person he was indeed.

"No," came the stoic reply.

"Indulging me again? Don't you think you should quit doing that?"

"I'll do what I want. Are you complaining?"

"No, of course not." The ginger swallowed. "Think you could cry for me?"

The vampire glared at him. "Of course not. I said it doesn't hurt."

"It would be quite an enjoyable show, I'll admit."

"Forget it. Just get the bullet out and fuck off."

"Ah ah ah, so hasty. I don't even get to patch you up?"

"I'm not human," the vampire spat. "As you can see, the healing process is much faster than yours. Bandages aren't necessary."

"Only willing to play along for so long... I have to wonder if it was ever really an act."

"You cannot seriously think that you could actually cause me pain." He huffed flatly.

"Is that a challenge?"

"No. God—" The vampire coughed a bit as if the word physically ailed him. "You're so fucking annoying."

"Pushing buttons is what I do best, comrade." Tartaglia's smile widened once again.

"Find a new hobby. This isn't cute."

"You think I'm cute??"

"What-" The vampire glared up at him. "That is literally the opposite of what I just said!"

The ginger laughed a bit. "Defensive much? It's okay. At least your eye seems to work well enough."

"I swear to god—" The poor thing was sent into another short coughing fit— "I am going to kill you the next time you show up in my part of the woods."

"Really??" Tartaglia seemed to get his hopes up. The vampire could almost swear the threat made the ginger perk up visibly. He wasn't just going to give this weirdo the satisfaction. He just stared blankly at Tartaglia, who grinned back. "There's nothing I love more than a good fight."

"You couldn't possibly survive a fight with me. I'm much more powerful than you. Even if I tried to go easy on you, your neck would still probably get snapped."

The hunger in Tartaglia's eyes returned stronger as he dug his finger deeper into the wound. "Is that so?" The vampire squeaked at the sudden movement and quickly shut his mouth, glaring up at the other.

"It is."

"How cute..." Tartaglia seemed genuinely happy to have gotten such a reaction out of him. He seemed less tense and more adoring as he continued to slowly reach for the bullet. "Ah, there it is." He stopped and removed his finger when he found it, needing something smaller to be able to grip it properly. The vampire stoically watched Tartaglia, noticing right away that his pupils had expanded slightly when he'd shown his pain. He supposed he should stop questioning that the hell was wrong with this man or he'd continue to ponder it every time Tartaglia did anything ever.

He'd hardly noticed the actual bullet coming out until he saw Tartaglia about to throw it in his mouth—blood and all—like a piece of candy.

"Stop-!" He quickly sat up and snatched the man's wrist, immediately confiscating the bullet. "Don't you know that ingesting vampire blood would turn you?!" Tartaglia simply pouted.

"It looks so tasty though."

"Please..." The vampire spoke exasperatedly. "Please tell me you weren't going to swallow the bullet." Tartaglia wasn't (he had found that he liked to click bullets between his teeth sometimes), but it wasn't like the vampire needed to know that.

"I've passed worse things."

The vampire just stared at him, looking for any trace of dishonesty. He searched well, and the longer he looked, the longer he wondered how this man was even alive. He said nothing as he broke the eye contact and sighed.

"I don't even want to know."

"What, you're not even the least bit curious?"

"You humans sure are weird. I've heard enough. I don't want to know."

Tartaglia pouted a little. "Hmph. Fine, I'll never tell you."

"Good." The vampire knew that the question would unfortunately stay on the back burner in his mind, and Tartaglia knew it too.

[quinntessentiallyglee]

Rachel: Testing. One, two, one, two. *clears throat*

Mazikeen: Do not sing.

Rachel: But-

Mazikeen: The mic works. Move on. Some of us have people to do.

Jonathan: Don't you mean things to do?

Mazikeen: *grins* I said what I said.

Quinn: *takes the mic from Rachel* And on that note-

Rachel: *grumbles* What note?

Quinn: *pats Rachel's arm* Later, Rach. We'll do Karaoke later. Promise.

Santana: That 'we' better not include me.

Dani: Don't be like that. You love Karaoke, we all love Karaoke, and we all love a happy Rachel.

Santana: *sighs, grumbles, nods her head* Fine. But I get veto on Rachel's first three song choices.

Rachel: What? Why! I have exce-

Tamsin: *clears throat, raises hand* Not that y'all shouldn't have that conversation, but can we maybe focus on why we're all here right now? Especially given how long it's been since the last time we did anything together. *looks pointedly in Mun's direction*

Mun: …

Everyone else: *stares at mun*

Mun: Tamsin's right. We should focus on why you're here today *mumbles "and definitely not me"*.

Tamsin: *crosses arms over chest* Mmhmm *turns back to the rest of the group* Anyway, as I was saying-

Mazikeen: Can we move it along already.

Tamsin: Not how I would have put it, but yes. I've got cupcakes in the oven and they'll need to come out any minute if everything is going to be ready for tonight.

Aurora: *takes mic from Quinn. gives the group a quick bow then, in proceeds in a clearly practiced voice* And what is happening tonight

Jade: I've seen Vega give a more believable performance

Distant voice: Hey!

Tamsin: *ignoring both as she turns to Aurora. Speaks into the mic* I'm so glad you asked. Tonight we're having a house party to kick off Pride Month!

Hannah: WOOHOO! Go Pride!

Tamsin: That's the spirit! Go Pride!

Hannah: Will there be Jello at this party?

Tamsin: Yes.

Hannah: WOOHOO! Go, Jello!

Melody: Hannah, Sweetie, Focus.

Hannah: I am focused.

Lennox: On something other than your stomach.

Guinevere: Well there be Jello shots?

Melody & Lennox: Not helping

Angela: Says you. I too would like to know the jello shot status of this party.

Tamsin: There will be drinks and snacks or all kinds, and I sent you all a menu for review a week ago so if there's something you want that isn't on there it's your own fault. *brushes her hair back behind her shoulder before giving a sharp "Shush" to quite the several grumblers in the background, then nods at Aurora*.

Aurora: *picking up as if the interruptions never happened* Pride month is a great reason to celebrate. Don't you agree? *Looks off to the side*

Mal: …

Aurora …

Aurora: *under her breath* That's your cue

Mal: …

Tamsin: Mal?

Mal: Why did I let you drag me into this?

Tamsin: Because we're family, and you love us

Mal: No, seriously.

Aurora: Because Evie heard us trying to convince you and she said it sounded like a great idea and you caved because you love her and would do anything to make her happy.

Mal: …

Mal: *heavy sigh* fine. But I'm doing this for Evie, not for you two.

Tamsin: Don't care.

Aurora: Still counts. *clears throat* Pride month is a great reason to celebrate. Don't you agree?

Mal: *in a monotone* You've got that right. *sees the looks from Tamsin and Aurora, sighs again. Smiles then repeats herself with much more enthusiasm*You've got that right! *grunts as she's immediately embraced by Tamsin and Aurora*

Santana: Wow. That was-

Rae: More than you for Pride?

Mazikeen: Are we done here?

Selina: Not going to stick around for the party?

Mazikeen: Like I said, I have people to do.

Aubrey: Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Mazikeen: Where's the fun in that? leaves

Angela: Can we circle back around to the shots question?

Rebecca: Come with me. We'll make some together. *heads off to the kitchen with Angela*

Tamsin: Oooh, I'll come with. Got to check on my cupcakes. *follows Rebecca and Angela towards the kitchen*

Hannah: Dibs on the extra frosting! *follows Tamsin*

Lennox: Do not let her have more sugar! *follows Hannah*

Melody: I better go and keep Lennox stays away from the knives *follows Lennox

Selina: I'm going to get a quick little catnap in before the party *heads to her room*

Rachel: I'm going to pick out my song list for Karaoke--Without any vetoes! *Rushes off to her room, with a protesting Santana fast on her heels*

Dani and Quinn: *look at each other, shake their heads and, smiling, follow Rachel and Santana*

Jonathan: I should pick out something to wear for tonight. *heads to his room*

Lucas: Same.

Guinevere: Maybe shave off that beard while you're at it.

Lucas: What's wrong with the beard? I think it makes me look distinguished.

Guinevere: I makes you look like you don't own a razor.

Rae: I like it. I think it's sexy.

Lucas: *points to Rae as he heads for his room* See. Sexy and Distinguished.

Guinevere: *Laughing as she pushed Lucas towards the hall, looks back over her shoulder and shakes head at Rae*

Rae: *following behind Guinevere* I can't help it. I like scruffy. It's Genetic!

Jade: Was that a werewolf joke?

Raven: Probably. Mun has a lousy sense of humour.

Jade: Is that why you only got one line?

Raven: shrugs

Jade: You weren't kidding. *stands and heads for her room* I've heard better jokes out of Vega.

Distant Voice: Hey! Again!

Aurora: *looks around the nearly empty room, then lays head on Mal's shoulder* Well it was fun while it lasted.

Mal: Was it?

Aurora: Oh shush, you know you love us. And Evie will be here any minute for the party. We're going to have so much fun tonight. *dances away towards the kitchen where the sounds of several arguments can be heard*

Mal: There is no we. You and the other one are staying ten, no twenty feet from Evie at all times.

Aurora: *laughs*

Mal: *drops down onto couch* And they called me evil. *feels her phone vibrate and pulls it from her pocket. Smiles at the text from Evie confirming her arrival time for the party.

Mal: Beware, foreswear, Love is love everywhere.

~~~~~~~~~

A post? An Apartment verse post? With everyone (Sorry Raven)?

I know, I'm as shocked as you are. And apparently extremely rusty. Anyway, Happy Pride month to all. Love *is* Love, everywhere.

[minkdelovely]

MUAHAHAHAHA I AM SO SATIATED!! Something I have been praying for has finally come to fruition, and I am BEYOND pleased.

Hazel, my dear, you continue to astound me. This was such an ENTERTAINING chapter. You really let the bitch flag fly, and I truly couldn’t be happier.

And don’t even get me started on the beginning or the middle between Alastor and Autumn… ughhh they really are too sweet with each other. Their love is so palpable and I’ll never get tired of reading about it 🥺♥️

I won’t say anything else here, because the chapter just needs to be read by y’all but~ screaming down below, per usual 😮‍💨

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Forehead pressed against the wall of the bathroom, Alastor’s hand gripped the base of his cock and squeezed.

AAAAND WE’RE OFF 👀

He couldn’t mentally stay in a romantic mindset when it was just fingers and running water.

there’s something about this that’s really getting me like… he enjoys ‘making love’?? Not even trying to out that connotation on it, but it’s like a subconscious acknowledgment? does this make sense? 😭✨

He wasn’t going to knock up the drain or make the shower quiver so this seemed just wasteful. 

and then this is just so on point for him, comically and logically 😂♥️

Your laugh at watching Alastor march through the bedroom sopping wet and butt naked choked you when your eyes lowered to see he was also rock hard.

the way I actually see this in my mind right now omg…

“I didn’t want to waste it.” His hips rutted into your side, the evidence of every place he touched were large dark spots on your clothes. “Do you want to —?”

THE DARK SPOTS! THE PASSION!

You always forgot his strength when looking at him. Until he was holding you up by the hips, for example, fucking you against the bedroom wall. Wet skin slapping against your thighs, panties swinging around your ankle with every thrust. A lovely way to start a Monday. 

JESUS FUCKING CHRISTTT 🫠❤️‍🔥

The weekend had been spent with a very attentive and clearly apologetic Alastor. His hands had been more present on your body, always holding your hand or pulling your legs over his lap as you both read. Dinners with his feet tangled with yours. Nights with his head buried in your hair.

ughhh this is too sweet… even though he’s all torn up. The gestures are just so cute and intimate 🥺

Every time you sighed his name, he clenched his teeth to keep it back. He wouldn’t weaponize it. He’d struggled to keep the compelled confession buried into your lap before, but he could keep it together until the moment was happy and without the bitter taste of his disappointment still lingering on your tongue.

STOPPP I AM WRITHING AAHHH!!!

He felt you tighten around him, yes, a much better use of arousal. The good thing about his years of experience before you was he had time to learn. To know when to quicken his pace and when to focus on depth. 

I actually can’t get over that even if he was going through the motions with others, he was still determined to make sure that it wasn’t sub-par and that’s really on brand for him.

His mind stayed there long after you finished and went into work. Leaving you behind was difficult, a small wiggling worm of fear deep in his skull that’d you’d vanish if his body wasn’t touching yours. 

hey remember how I actually told you TO STOP??

“Hush.” You warned him, and he pretended to zip his lips shut and slip the imaginary key into your skirt pocket. 

I’M GONNA FUCKING CRY I CAN PICTURE THIS TOO WELL

Brady would be popping up as soon as possible, you warned. There was no way he was dropping the issue. He’d be knocking on Alastor’s office door in no time.

Kenneth is incessant, and it’s genuinely what you want in a detective but also maybe go touch grass my guy.

Brenda far too loudly announced two detectives were there for him. She was side eyeing them with a sneer he could almost appreciate when she popped her head in to yell it. 

BRENDA!! You’re a real one omg

“I’ll be right out.” Alastor set his work down and took a deep breath. Every piece of him wanted to rush from the room and strangle Brady on the office floor. He’d seen him many times before but the pesky detective didn’t know that. A tremble of excitement he shook away. Smile on, he left the office.

LET’S GET READY TO RUUUUMBLEEE

Bright eyes. Tired. Light hair. Pale. Clothes wrinkled. Sweat stains even though it was autumn already. 

what did I say? Kenny needs to take to the air

“Good afternoon, detectives. Alastor. It’s a pleasure.” He extended his hand but only Freeman moved to shake it.

KENNETH YOU REALLY ARE SO FUCKING BOLD — you can’t even TRY to fake it??

“Edward Freeman. I am a big fan, sir. Your voice is made for radio.” Freeman shook Alastor’s with both of his own, not noticing his partner’s wide eyed horror. “Such a pleasure. I promise we won’t take too much of your time.”

AAAHHH EDWARD IS ONE OF US!! AHAHAHAHAHA FUCK YEAH!!

Alastor could have cackled directly into Brady’s face but managed to keep himself in check, “A face for radio too! Ha ha ha,” his laugh was loud, genuinely amused with himself, “Well it’s always a treat to meet a listener.”

he’s good at playing bitchy and humble — I am VIBRATING

Brady thought he’d black out. He’d began his day humming with anticipation, the high of having a name and occupation making him dizzy all weekend. The shock of Freeman immediately cozying up to his prime ( and sole ) suspect was throwing him off balance.

yeah, you got the rug pulled out from right under you. Tough luck, sport!

A string bean of a human in thin circular glasses was charming the wits off his partner.

KENNY THE HATER

“Girlfriend?!” Brenda choked on her coffee, her desk just some feet beside them. “You’re confused. I’d know if he had a girl.”

BRENDA!! 😂

“But you’d never! This is slander!”

when Brenda clutches pearls it’s honestly so endearing — I love her! 😭✨

Brenda was on her feet, a second from foaming at the mouth, “Out! You get out of this office at once!” 

I AM CACKLING!! SHE’S REALLY OUT HERE TELLING THESE COPS TO LEAVE! 😂🙏🏻♥️

“Thank you, Brenda!” Alastor hissed, “Let’s continue this in my office, gentlemen.” His arm swung out to gesture to the open door. 

Brenda was left fiddingly with her pearls in horror. 

ACTUALLY CLUTCHING PEARLS!! AAAHH!!!

“So, now that we’re … free from that, what were you saying?” He tried to chuckle away the chaos, one hand gently smoothing his hair back.

suavecitoooo 😮‍💨

“Wouldn’t go that far… I’m embarrassed to admit it but yes I did take out a singer some time ago. Dancer too, I was told. But, I,” his hands slid in his pockets and he shrugged his shoulders, “I had a lovely time with her.” He gave Freeman a shy smirk, “I just didn’t want anything serious. Paid for her cab last time I saw her but I didn’t give her a dime for anything else.”

OOOHHH WHAT A COVER. It’s embarrassing but clever

“We were told you’d been seeing her for quite some time.” Brady had been prepared for every reply.

OF COURSE

“I loved going there. I first noticed her over a few weekends. Asked her out there, too. But after a few nights out she seemed a little… not worth the trouble, I’ll say.” He grimaced, “I really sound like a rake, huh?” He looked to Freeman, asking for the man’s acceptance with his eyes.

A RAKE!! This is one of my favorite little terms — it’s fitting hehe ♥️

Freeman chuckled at the suggestion, “Not at all! Good looking man such as yourself, nice job, no wife. I’d be sowing my oats so to speak too. We’re just hunting down some people for questioning regarding a missing manager.”

SOWING MY OATS!! EDWARD!! 😂

A twitch to the corner of Alastor’s smile, “Sorry detective, I assumed this here was your superior. He just has … an aura of experienced professionalism to him. Now where was I… a manager,” he shook his head, “Was he at The Bandstand by any chance?”

ALASTOR YOU FIEND!! 😮‍💨😂

Brady rolled his eyes. Alastor was definitely the man Beth mentioned; a daisy. The kind of man to fret over a stained tie or wet shoes.

So sloppiness is the height of masculinity, is that what I’m getting Kenneth? And wet shoes are a sensory fucking nightmare 😩

“People in …those kinds of establishments can’t expect civility.” His nails were digging through the cotton of his pants. It made him sick to say it. How many days did he kiss your bruises? How long had they lasted? Longer than Tommy, that was for sure. Outlived him by quite some time. His smile spread. Brady noticed it, clearing his throat. 

UGHHH I feel sick too, but you’re doing so well my darling 🥺

Freeman turned back in his chair to look at Brady once more, this was his impromptu interview. He’d begged Freeman to take the early lunch. Brady promised him this was the guy and that if it wasn’t, he’d never bring it up again.

OH FUCK you really cornered yourself here, Ken.

This man in front of him was soft. He was feminine in some aspects, definitely quite lanky and seemingly devoid of real muscle. Brady hadn’t imagined his killer to be concerned about style or fashion, yet this man clearly put a lot into his appearance. He couldn’t imagine him killing anyone… perhaps a gun?

A GUN?? If this is your serial killer, you’d think people would have mentioned hearing guns popping off intermittently through NoLa, but go off I guess…

Alastor whistled, “Besides jazz and piano? I fish. Uh,” Alastor looked for threads of truth to add to the web, “I garden quite a bit, actually. Love to dance.”

A man of many talents 🥹♥️

“Born and raised, detective. Native son if there ever was one.”

He slipped out his notepad and slapped it against the fleshy part of his hand. Brady’s spirit was withering. 

I can hear the tone of voice that did it too hehe

“Call anytime, but word to the wise. Brenda will answer first.” Alastor let out a loud and singular ‘ha!’

MY DARLING BITCH 🙏🏻♥️

Alastor took back his hand from Brady and wiped it off against his vest as soon as the men were turned around.

HAZELLL what a lovely way to incorporate this 😮‍💨✨

She warned him of people with heaviness,  people who gathered bad energy like rain on a flat roof. That weight attracted likewise things. A gravity would form and pull in more and more darkness. 

You’d mentioned a storm, and now Alastor was seeing that drip drip drip of the cracking roof. 

THE IMAGERY! DEAREST YOU’RE PAINTING WITH WORDS AGAIN! 😩❤️‍🔥

A chill, insidious and violent made him turn on his heels and shut the door with force. There it was again, that fight or flight feeling. Twice in nearly as many days. Never did Alastor feel insecure in situations of life or death, not literal life or death that was. He didn’t care about dying. 

SPOOKED! Kenneth is a wraith and you’re SPOOKED my darling 😰

If fear was a lark in his chest it’s little spine cracked and popped as it grew and mutated into a rageful osprey, anger opening his lungs and sinuses as blood rushed with renewed vigor. This was Brady’s fault, entirely. He was ruining everything. Alastor finally had what felt like everything he wanted and deserved (anger dampening his usual insecurity of what was meant for him) and Brady was going to tear it apart. 

I’m getting “let’s begin” vibes but also I really need to you take a breath my love — don’t be rash!

“Those detectives! Accuse you of debauchery!” 

He imagined telling her how his morning started, fucking the nude dancer against his bedroom wall, arleady shacking up out of wedlock. Maybe it’d kill Brenda? That’d be convenient. 

that would, in fact, make her suffer cardiac arrest Alastor 🙈✨

“Welcome home!” You waited for the car door to close before greeting him, worrying over the timing. He froze between the car and the wooden steps. You stopped your swinging on the porch swing, noticing how odd it was to see someone completely still like that. You remembered the deer along the road. “What’s wrong?”

Every thought flew out his head and into the early setting sun. An odd deja vu came over him. He hadn’t heard those words in literal years. “No one has said that to me…since my mother died.”

FUCK THIS HIT ME REALLY HARD

Another moment as you parted and both of you realized how odd the situation was. The killer and his dancer playing house. For a brief second, maybe heaven mistook you for something normal and good.

YOU DESERVE YOUR HAPPINESS DAMN IT ;A;

“Oh, did you want company? I don’t mind going out.” His little smile made it hard to deny him.

OMGGG HOW DID YOU STAY STRONG???

“I really hate keeping secrets from you.” His fingers were pulling and pushing at the edge of the blanket. 

his nervous little ticks are gonna be the death of me, they’re too endearing

“Brady and his partner came by today to my office, like you’d expected. I didn’t want to ruin our day, knowing how rarely we will live traditionally. But it’s just bothering the hell out of me.” His hands came to cover his cheeks and crawl into his hair out of stress. An overreaction, the weekend having truly discombobulated the man. 

YOU’RE NEVER GONNA STOP HUH?!

Flowers, you thought. You should buy flowers on Saturday, too. 

MY SOUL IS LEAVING MY BODY OMGGG HE DESERVES FLOWERS!

Alastor nerves hadn’t settled yet, even if he slept well beside you. Every day he came home and you were still there felt like he’d been holding his breath the entire drive home. During lunch he’d call the house so you could talk and eat together, in a sense. The conversation eased him, a confirmation you still liked him. An embarrassing fear he couldn’t let you on to. 

I REALLY FUCKING CAN’T WITH YOU 🫠♥️

He didn’t understand you spent the week calling record shops in search of something specific. Plotting exactly how you’d do it. You’d mastered the phonograph in the room beside the kitchen and found an old vase in the back of the cupboard. 

really digging the knife in oh my god 🥲

Alastor was honest with you that he left work early to check on Brady midweek. He was practically dancing through the kitchen when he reported Brady went home on time for the first night in what could have been weeks. And he did so looking like shit.

HA!

He sat quietly the rest of the work day, thinking over everything again. It still felt right, but Alastor didn’t look right. Maybe it was a group, some new gang in town. Perhaps Alastor had some business with them.

He’s not wrong, but I hate that he’s also going based of Alastor’s looks? Like THAT’S what’s gonna shake you up? 😂🙈

Is downtown just inherently dangerous, he wondered. He supposed the map lined up with the jazz scene, and where there is dance and liquor there’s crime.

KENNETH THE RELENTLESS OVER HERE

“He could be like that Holmes man in Chicago.” She smiled from across the meat and potatoes she’d slow cooked over the day.

YOU KEEP H.H. HOLMES OUT OF THIS!!

She let misplaced comment go, and moved to turn on the radio. Something to fill the silence. She wondered if her favorite program was on, though it was a little late for that. 

imagine Alastor’s voice booming through your house Kenneth? You were spared by the narrative

The day finally came, your highly anticipated and scheduled confession. Saturday morning you slipped on your shoes, pushing back thoughts of everything they’d seen, and slid into the car. You had a game plan. Apartment, get your stash and change out your shoes. Head to the phonograph shop on Calliope and grab the record. Flower shop, something bright and fragrant. Stop by the theater for a bottle of whatever they were willing to part with. Call him from there to pick you up behind the building.

I AM GOING INSANEEE THIS IS SO SWEET

You didn’t need Ephi, full stop.

I meannn 💀💀💀

“I’ll call you from the theater so I can wait inside. Lo-,” Your mouth opened to say it, as you’d been practicing it in your head all week, “Lucky me I’m still welcome there.” A quick save.

I NEARLY CHOKED OH MY GOD

Barely a second into the room and you were already reeling with anger. What a skill she had.

I’d say! Calling it a skill is too kind

“What the fuck? Are you taking the furniture?! It’s a fucking dress.”

that’s honestly the least of your concerns you little bitch 😂🙈

As the distance between your problem and you became greater, the gap was closing in on Alastor and his.

LOVELY SEGUE

He was in the kitchen splashing his face with water, dusty from sweeping the porch, when he heard a car door slam shut.

THE CAUCASITY OF KENNETH I SWEAR TO FUCKING GODDD

Past the stairs and the kitchen doorway, he could see the shape of a man. He was standing in front of the greenhouse with both hands on his hips, staring at it. Bright hair reflecting the sun.

THE CAUCASITY, I SAY! Fuck Ken, you just went straight to the greenhouse?!

Brady nodded, a smug smile and a wink, “Sure do.”

I’m actually fucking seething???

Alastor returned to the kitchen for the key, grabbing a small paring knife and placing it in the back pocket of his slacks. Sharp and quick. 

BABY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T SUCCUMB TO THIS

“Water! Turns out plants love the stuff. Who knew!” Alastor’s fingers curled around the knife’s handle, “I prune, propagate, and repot them here and rinse it off after. Due to the shade of the table, the ground tends to stay wet longer.” He wondered if Brady had told anyone where he was. Maybe Freeman? 

yeah, please convince yourself someone knows where he is my love — I really need you to keep it cool and just keep antagonizing this man 😭

Alastor laughed, “No, that was a lie. This is all meticulously maintained for aesthetics.” 

YES KEEP IT UP

He’d been thinking this out for months now in a way, though, hadn’t he?

DON’T

As he watched Brady eye the land with a dismissive glance, he realized he’d never killed anyone at his home. It didn’t seem to be a good idea. Like they’d taint the land. Plus, killing the cop in the backyard was about as opposite of what you’d asked of him as he could get. 

THIS IS GOOD — PLEASE DON’T, MY HEART IS SO TIGHT

The detective slapped his notebook against his palm and whistled, “Radio pays well, huh?”

“Better than a detective, maybe. But this was all my mother’s land.” He said it with pride, one hand leaving his pocket to gesture at the house and beyond. 

that’s my bitch!! ♥️

“Your mother. And she… how exactly did someone like her get her hands on a plot like this?” Brady squinted at the tree line, knowing full well how he said it. “Quite a bit of land for someone of her… background.” He quickly turned his full body to Alastor, “You see that movie, ‘Murder!’, by Hitchcock? My wife was saying how interesting it was over dinner the other night. Your receptionist mentioned you like the movies.”

THIS FUCKING BIGOT I SWEAR TO GOD

Alastor bristled, he’d seen the film and picked up the tone being taken,  “Did you want to see anything else, Kenneth? Or did you drive all the way here to quiz me on your wife's morbid interests?”

“Detective Brady.” He corrected. 

NO. You heard our baby right KENNETH.

“Maybe in the Orleans parish.” Alastor took a step toward him. He reveled in the confused expression Brady made. “Oh you didn’t realize when you crossed the lake? This is St. Tammany. You’re out of jurisdiction.” Another step. “So I’ll call you whatever I damn well please.”

YESSSS!!! FLAY HIM WITH YOUR WORDS MY DARLING ♥️

Alastor’s arms went out in a shrug, “Ah, well, good luck finding a judge to approve you harassing a law abiding land owner for…what exactly? A drugged out criminal who stopped showing up to work? Forgive me for not holding my breath. Now kindly get the fuck off my mother’s property. “

This is getting dangerous! I never wanted the bitchfest to get dangerous!

Brady was still holding onto hope that Alastor was your man but now, his throat ran dry. He got more than that.

GOD DAMN IT!! FUCK!

Alastor’s hand twitched, he fought the rage bubbling up his throat. His vision was beginning to turn red around the edges. He could hear Aubrey squeaking out the first syllable of that damn word just behind his left ear.

Perhaps he was the blade hanging over Brady’s head. 

FUCK!!!

With even paces he walked over to the stump where he chopped wood and pulled the axe out, “Ya know! Something about you makes my fucking skin crawl.” He pointed it at Brady, the detective taking note of the arm strength needed to hold the unevenly heavy tool steady and parallel to the ground. “I do hope for your sake this is our final meeting. You should leave now.” His head titled to the left, “And keep your nose clean, Kenneth. It’s a dangerous time for bad men in New Orleans.”

ALASTOR!!! FUCK!!!

As the car started Alastor dropped the axe until it’s flat top of the blade rested on the ground and he leaned his weight onto it akin to a cane. His free hand’s fingers waved goodbye before dropping down to his side limply. He stood there with eyes fixed and body still as a predator waiting for its opportunity. How many gators had Brady watched from the shore with just that look? He peeled out, sight unseen as he blindly backed onto the unpaved road, and made a beeline to the nearest phone. 

He had to tell someone. He was right. He had been right the whole time. Alastor killed Tommy Dupre. And there was no doubt in Brady’s swirling mind that you knew that fact. 

GGASAAHAKZNSIZJNSHS FUUUUCKKK!!!! I wanna be happy about another gator mention but A BITCH IS STRESSED!

A Doe in Fall (Part 14)

⟢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 smut💦📍

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

Where we left off: Alastor and Reader had a misunderstanding and a heavy talk on the back porch. He’d let it slip how deeply he felt but it was muffled by your thighs.

Part 14 Someone like her

Brady says the magic words after finally meeting his elusive radio man. But was that a good thing?

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, masturbation, Ace Alastor is trying his best, little smut to start the day, Brenda exists, Reader is also trying her best but it’s less hot, mentions of abuse, thinly veiled racism, Insecure Alastor, an axe, Alastor is the deer and gator」

MDNI ☎️💚🏡

Forehead pressed against the wall of the bathroom, Alastor’s hand gripped the base of his cock and squeezed.

He’d been trying to masturbate more, hoping to prolong things when with you, but the action was just so pointless. Yes it felt good, but so did scratching his back when he had an itch. But there was no itch here. He couldn’t mentally stay in a romantic mindset when it was just fingers and running water. What intimacy existed there? What was the point? Male orgasms were for procreation and pleasure, were they not? He wasn’t going to knock up the drain or make the shower quiver so this seemed just wasteful. 

Images of your pleasured face ghosted behind his eyes. Nothing pointless about that. A twitch to the otherwise bored flesh in his grip. 

Wasteful.

Your laugh at watching Alastor march through the bedroom sopping wet and butt naked choked you when your eyes lowered to see he was also rock hard.

“Oh.” Was all you managed before his shower was soaking through your cotton top and powder blue skirt. “Oh.” Ravenous mouth at your jawline.

“I didn’t want to waste it.” His hips rutted into your side, the evidence of every place he touched were large and dark wet spots on your clothes. “Do you want to —?”

His fingers were already crawling down your thighs and gathering your skirt up. 

You always forgot his strength when looking at him. Until he was holding you up by the hips, for example, fucking you against the bedroom wall. Wet skin slapping against your thighs, panties swinging around your ankle with every thrust. A lovely way to start a Monday. 

The weekend had been spent with a very attentive and clearly apologetic Alastor. His hands had been more present on your body, always holding your hand or pulling your legs over his lap as you both read. Dinners with his feet tangled with yours. Nights with his head buried in your hair.

The words were moaned through his own mind, scared to let them go again.

I just love you so much.

Every time you sighed his name, he clenched his teeth to keep it back. He wouldn’t weaponize it. He’d struggled to keep the compelled confession buried into your lap before, but he could keep it together until the moment was happy and without the bitter taste of his disappointment still lingering on your tongue.

An enlightened gasp dripped into a breathy moan as you realized this must be the make up sex the ladies always talk about. You’d never understood the concept before then. 

He felt you tighten around him, yes, a much better use of arousal. The good thing about his years of experience before you was he had time to learn. To know when to quicken his pace and when to focus on depth. Quality over quantity, he thought.

His mind stayed there long after you finished and he went into work. Leaving you behind was difficult, a small wiggling worm of fear deep in his skull that’d you’d vanish if his body wasn’t touching yours. 

You’d taken off some time from work, partly out of sheer embarrassment and partly to keep the theater safe from Brady. Which meant when he left for work, you kissed him goodbye at the door. You both laughed into the small space between your lips immediately afterwards. 

“Hush.” You warned him, and he pretended to zip his lips shut and slip the imaginary key into your skirt pocket. 

Alastor was happy to hear Brady had been told he had a handful of nothing but he knew his clock was ticking. You’d recounted your time in the station and how angry and disappointed the other detective had seemed with Brady. Brady would be popping up as soon as possible, you warned. There was no way he was dropping the issue. He’d be knocking on Alastor’s office door in no time. 

Much sooner than Alastor had prepared for, but he was ever the performer. 

Brenda far too loudly announced two detectives were there for him. She was side eyeing them with a sneer he could almost appreciate when she popped her head in to yell it. 

“I’ll be right out.” Alastor set his work down and took a deep breath. Every piece of him wanted to rush from the room and strangle Brady on the office floor. He’d seen him many times before but the pesky detective didn’t know that. A tremble of excitement he shook away. Smile on, he left the office.

His observations came quick and loud as he saw Brady’s face in the daylight for the first time.

Bright eyes. Tired. Light hair. Pale. Clothes wrinkled. Sweat stains even though it was autumn already. 

The man beside him was new to Alastor, and Alastor couldn’t tell yet what to do with him. Taller, older, darker complexion. His expression was relaxed in comparison to Brady’s stressed one.

“Good afternoon, detectives. Alastor. It’s a pleasure.” He extended his hand but only Freeman moved to shake it.

Brady was staring with blatant scrutiny. Alastor was quite tall, and much leaner than he had anticipated. His hair was perfectly in place, with clean skin and neat glasses. Was this the right man?

“Edward Freeman. I am a big fan, sir. Your voice is made for radio.” Freeman shook Alastor’s with both of his own, not noticing his partner’s wide eyed horror. “Such a pleasure. I promise we won’t take too much of your time.”

Alastor could have cackled directly into Brady’s face but managed to keep himself in check, “A face for radio too! Ha ha ha,” his laugh was loud, genuinely amused with himself, “Well it’s always a treat to meet a listener.”

Brady thought he’d black out. He’d began his day humming with anticipation, the high of having a name and occupation making him dizzy all weekend. The shock of Freeman immediately cozying up to his prime (and sole) suspect was throwing him off balance.

He’d brought him along so he could show him he’d gotten the right man. He’d thought —- he’d been so sure Alastor would be some second rate employee with rough hands and thick arms. Not the pretty host working behind some desk. Weren’t there large spools of cable and big contraptions radio station employees lugged around? Where were those men?

A string bean of a human in thin circular glasses was charming the wits off his partner.

“Brady. We’re here to discuss an important matter regarding your girlfriend.” Brady leaned in to separate the other two men and their budding camaraderie.

“Girlfriend?!” Brenda choked on her coffee, her desk just some feet beside them. “You’re confused. I’d know if he had a girl.”

“Thank you, Brenda.” Alastor said through a forced smile, “She is right though. I am unattached. Lifelong bachelor.”

“That’s interesting. Because when we picked her up at the burlesque theater,” he was cut off by a shriek.

“Nude dancing?! Sir! My—-you! Alastor would never! He is a man of means and class! I-,” Brenda’s hands were aimlessly shuffling time cards. “The only theater he frequents is the cinema.”

“Brenda.” Alastor laughed, not taking his eyes off of Brady, “Please. Let the man finish.”

“But you’d never! This is slander!”

“No slander. We picked her up for prostitution and her,” again he was drowned out by the receptionist. 

Brenda was on her feet, a second from foaming at the mouth, “Out! You get out of this office at once!” 

“Sure, why don’t we take this to the station.” 

“You want a local celebrity,” Alastor’s eye twitched as Brenda screeched out the words, “to be marched down there like a common criminal! I’m calling the station, you’re mad.” 

“Thank you, Brenda!” Alastor hissed, words heavy, “Let’s continue this in my office, gentlemen.” His arm swung out to gesture to the open door. 

Brenda was left fiddingly with her pearls in horror. 

Alastor followed the men in and leaned back against his desk casually, offering them the two chairs. 

“So, now that we’re … free from that, what were you saying?” He tried to chuckle away the chaos, one hand gently smoothing his hair back.

“We took in a woman last week for prostitution. Charges dropped but  — her friends said you were her beau.” Freeman leaned back too, crossing his legs at the ankle as they stretched out in front of him, “Radio man named Alastor? Not too many of those so, thought we’d just come by and check.”

Brady stood near the door, refusing to sit. “So. Gonna tell me there’s some more Alastors in New Orleans? Or gonna be straight with us?”

Alastor nodded, sighing through his nose. You’d filled him in already on the story.

“Burlesquer, right? Pretty thing with the long lashes and sharp tongue?” He looked up at Brady over his glasses, looking as boyish as a man his age could. 

“So you are her fella?” Freeman’s back straightened. He hadn’t expected that.

“Wouldn’t go that far… I’m embarrassed to admit it but yes I did take out a singer some time ago. Dancer too, I was told. But, I,” his hands slid in his pockets and he shrugged his shoulders, “I had a lovely time with her.” He gave Freeman a shy smirk, “I just didn’t want anything serious. Paid for her cab last time I saw her but I didn’t give her a dime for anything else.”

Brady stared at every inch of the man before him. His white button up was loose at the arms but wasn’t appearing to hide some powerful physique that said ‘I drag bodies around town.’

“We were told you’d been going to see her for quite some time.” Brady had been prepared for every reply.

Alastor furrowed his brow and pretended to think, hand coming from his pocket to adjust his glasses, “Talking about the nice little joint near the park?”

“Yeah.” Brady smiled. “So you admit it.”

“I loved going there. I first noticed her over a few weekends. Asked her out there, too. But after a few nights out she seemed a little… not worth the trouble, I’ll say.” He grimaced, “I really sound like a rake, huh?” He looked to Freeman, asking for the man’s acceptance with his eyes.

Freeman chuckled at the suggestion, “Not at all! Good looking man such as yourself, nice job, no wife. I’d be sowing my oats so to speak too. We’re just hunting down some people for questioning regarding a missing manager.”

Brady thought his head would snap with how quickly he turned to Freeman. He was saying too much.

“He’s uh, drats what’s her name?” Freeman turned around to Brady. Brady looked up to Alastor expectantly.

“Oh! She gave me some fake name. Winter or… August. I didn’t press the matter.” Alastor walked back to his desk and sat down, trying to get eye level with Freeman who was the easier of the two to play, “Missing manager? I frequent a lot of clubs looking for talent. Maybe I knew the guy. What’s his name?”

“Tommy Dupre.” Brady said it sternly. “And I’m the one leading the investigation.”

A twitch to the corner of Alastor’s smile, “Sorry detective, I assumed this here was your superior. He just has … an aura of experienced professionalism to him. Now where was I… a manager,” he shook his head, “Was he at The Bandstand by any chance?” His fingers were flipping through his rolodex of business cards. Brady noted how clean his nails were. But not suspiciously so, not something that seemed overly tended to. He shook his head again more firmly then. “No, never formally met the man at least.”

“He was your burlesquer’s manager.”

Alastor leaned back and crossed his arms, “I never went to her work and I truly don’t visit burlesque theaters. Can't risk my reputation.” Few people out of the club scene knew his face and name so that was a load of shit, but he hoped they wouldn’t stop and consider that much. “We run a clean show here.”

“Here’s the issue, sir.” Freeman patted the tops of his thighs, “Your Ms. Doe-,” Alastor’s brow furrowed in momentary confusion.

“Oh! Ha, clever. I see what you did there.” He laughed, it was light and made Freeman nod his head in thanks.

“She got roughed up real bad by Mr. Dupre around the time ya’ll were seen together.  He disappeared soon after. So, naturally….we wanted to see if you knew anything about what happened to him.”

“Doesn’t shock me to hear that.” Alastor's voice was high pitched and airy. His nonchalance was grating to the younger of the two detectives.

Brady rolled his eyes. Alastor was definitely the man Beth mentioned; a daisy. The kind of man to fret over a stained tie or wet shoes.

“People in …those kinds of establishments can’t expect civility.” His nails were digging through the cotton of his pants. It made him sick to say it. How many days did he kiss your bruises? How long had they lasted? Longer than Tommy, that was for sure. Outlived him by quite some time. His smile spread. Brady noticed it, clearing his throat. 

“What’s the smile for?”

“Ah,” Alastor hid his mouth with the back of his hand, he couldn’t bite back the glee of remembering Tommy beg, “Sorry. I’m just feeling quite grateful I didn’t stick around to be pulled into some dame’s drama. This is exactly why I remain untethered.”

“Wish I’d had that foresight…I’m only joking. My Donna’s a blessing and a half.” Freeman quickly retracted the comment. 

A moment of quiet as they all looked at each other. A natural dead end.

Freeman turned back in his chair to look at Brady once more, this was his impromptu interview. He’d begged Freeman to take the early lunch. Brady promised him this was the guy and that if it wasn’t, he’d never bring it up again.

So he was staring at his partner waiting for the never again to start. 

Brady chewed the inside of his cheek, mind bouncing through thoughts and theories and observations.

This man in front of him was soft. He was feminine in some aspects, definitely quite lanky and seemingly devoid of real muscle. Brady hadn’t imagined his killer to be concerned about style or fashion, yet this man clearly put a lot into his appearance. He couldn’t imagine him killing anyone… perhaps a gun?

“Got any hobbies?”

“Kenny.” Freeman chided.

“Sir.” Brady added it sarcastically.

Alastor whistled, “Besides jazz and piano? I fish. Uh,” Alastor looked for threads of truth to add to the web, “I garden quite a bit, actually. Love to dance.”

Of course he did.  “Sports?”

“I don’t watch nor listen to much of that.”

“No,” an exasperated sigh, “Do you play any sports?”

“Oh!” Another casual laugh that grated Brady’s senses, “No, no. I wouldn’t pretend I’m an athletic man.” 

“Hunting is a popular pastime around here, you ever go out shooting?”

“No sir, not my scene.” Alastor leaned back and swiveled his chair side to side. 

No hunting, really? Brady’s brows rose in suspicion, “….you from New Orleans?”

Freeman crossed his legs, a simple act that somehow conveyed a rising loss of patience.

“Born and raised, detective. Native son if there ever was one.”

He slipped out his notepad and slapped it against the fleshy part of his hand. Brady’s spirit was withering. 

A mistake?

“Understood.” Pushing off of the wall.

“Sorry to cause all this fuss over … my tryst with a dancer not too long ago.” Another bashful bachelor smile. “But it was just that. Fun. I never met her employer. I never even went to her shows. As for the place by the park-,”

“Beth’s.”

Alastor grinned to hide the flinch, “My doe, as you put it sir, was a real canary. But I haven’t been back there since I stopped seeing her. I’m sure if you asked they’d tell you the same.” The phone rang and Alastor apologized, putting a finger up, “Yes, Brenda?” The incessant woman asked what was taking so long. He smiled and nodded, “Thank you, tell them I’ll just be another minute.”

“We’ll be heading out. It seems I need to— to re-examine some things. Dig a little deeper.” Before Brady could retrieve his card to offer it to the radio host, Alastor was handing him his.

“Call anytime, but word to the wise. Brenda will answer first.” Alastor let out a loud and singular ‘ha!’

He rose to walk them out and Brady extended his hand again for him to shake, his stomach curdling at the touch. When the detective squeezed and shook his hand so hard his arm was moving up to the elbow he just laughed. He kept his own grip loose.

The limp and slender hand in his was disappointing. A final nail in his coffin, soft metal bending as it was struck.

Freeman smiled and hopped up, “Been a pleasure!”

Alastor took back his hand from Brady and wiped it off against his vest as soon as the men were turned around.

“Apologies for the disturbance, ma’am.” Brady kept his gaze down as he passed Brenda. Freeman set his card on her desk as he walked past.

“That’s a bunch of applesauce.” She hissed, refusing to stand.

Alastor’s mother taught him many things. Of this world and the other. Of the spirits always roaming and waiting. Of blue ceilings and birds hitting windows.

She warned him of people with heaviness,  people who gathered bad energy like rain on a flat roof. That weight attracted likewise things. A gravity would form and pull in more and more darkness. 

You’d mentioned a storm, and now Alastor was hearing that drip drip drip of the cracking roof. 

He’d been taught to steer clear of those people with that darkness, because you don’t want to be there when the roof caved in. 

She’d likened it to the sword of Damocles, don’t be so close you get cut when the blade finally drops. Don’t become collateral damage. 

When his skin touched Brady’s, he felt that heaviness. The gravity. We’re you both slipping down the sloping pull of his swirling negativity?

He felt the urge to spit, which was uncouth and unlike him. Brenda was talking loudly to him but she was deep under the ocean and muffled perfectly well. His drunken mind had been wrong about many things, but one line of thinking had been on the money.

Something had to be done. An accident playing out in slow motion before him, threatening to take you both down with it. 

A chill, insidious and violent made him turn on his heels and shut the door with force. There it was again, that fight or flight feeling. Twice in nearly as many days. Never did Alastor feel insecure in situations of life or death, not literal life or death that was. He didn’t care about dying. 

The thought of losing you was that first trigger, but what was causing this one? What was his gut trying to warn him about now?

Distance was needed. He needed to get as far from that detective and his gravitational pull as possible. Perhaps not physically, but in every other sense. There was safety in that, he could feel it just over the disorienting whirl of fear. 

If fear was a lark in his chest it’s little spine cracked and popped as it grew and mutated into a rageful osprey, anger opening his lungs and sinuses as blood rushed with renewed vigor. This was Brady’s fault, entirely. He was ruining everything. Alastor finally had what felt like all of the thj he wanted and deserved (anger dampening his usual insecurity of what was meant for him) and Brady was going to tear it apart. 

There was a struggle to decide how to proceed. He thought perhaps telling you would bring him clarity, but if you asked him to not do anything at all he couldn’t be sure he’d be able to stop from lying to your face about his intentions. 

A flash of confidence knowing he’d never lied to you died quickly, oh, he had lied to you. He’d lied to you in the alley before leaving to prepare to kill Tommy. He’d said it was the greater good of the community. A stain on his otherwise pristine morality when it came to you. 

“How could they?”

Alastor’s head popped up, Brenda had opened his door unannounced and continued her raving. 

“How could who do what?” He asked, smile small.

“Those detectives! Accuse you of debauchery!” 

He imagined telling her how his morning started, fucking the nude dancer against his bedroom wall, arleady shacking up out of wedlock. Maybe it’d kill Brenda? That’d be convenient. 

“I wonder if they are even real cops…I promise, I won’t let that nonsense back into this office, Alastor.” She gave him a thumbs up and left, leaving the door ajar. 

Daylight was already creeping away sooner and sooner as the seasons began to change. The first day Alastor was gone and you were completely alone in his home for an extended period of time was passed in an awkward boredom. There wasn’t much to do…his house was kept tidy, food didn’t take much time, and you had no means to get into town. So you listened through his record collection, carefully turning the vinyls over with delicate fingers. You’d heard oils from your hand could ruin the grooves. No idea if that was true, but you couldn’t risk it. Alastor’s job kept relatively regular hours, so when you knew he had most likely left work you headed out front to wait. It was a foreign thing to do, and a little embarrassing. Dogs waited for their masters to come home. You stuffed the comparison down, knowing you were once again comparing apples to oranges. Worse than that, dogs to yourself. 

“Welcome home!” You waited for the car door to close before greeting him, worrying over the timing. He froze between the car and the wooden steps. You stopped your swinging on the porch swing, noticing how odd it was to see someone completely still like that. You remembered the deer along the road. “What’s wrong?”

Every thought flew out his head and into the early setting sun. An odd deja vu came over him. He hadn’t heard those words in literal years. “No one has said that to me…since my mother died.”

Oh. 

Oh. That was….sad. You grimaced. “Should I not say it then?”

“No!” He came to life, “I mean, yes. No, You should say it. If you want. It’s nice.” Staccato sentences as he took the three steps in just two. He leaned over on a novel instinct for a kiss, and you leaned up to meet him.��

Another moment as you parted and both of you realized how odd the situation was. The killer and his dancer playing house. For a brief second, maybe heaven mistook you for something normal and good. When you smiled, trying to not say the obvious as you always did, he decided to not mention Brady. His first night coming home to you shouldn’t have to compete with that news. Tomorrow, he decided. He’d just….leave out which day Brady had stopped by. Not a lie, just an excluded, superfluous detail.

As you ate your dinner and he recounted his day, you made a decision of your own. 

“Hey, Saturday, can you drop me off downtown for a bit? I need to change my shoes and do a little shopping.”

You needed the gift, to set the mood for your confession. You’d survived your first fight, you didn’t combust into a ball of fire when you kissed him goodbye for work, it made sense to do it now. 

“Oh, did you want company? I don’t mind going out.” His little smile made it hard to deny him.

“Ah well, my friend is still staying over at my place and she may get uneasy with a man around. And my shopping….is at the kind of places men shouldn’t go. Frilly lacy places.” A terrible liar. “You should do something fun for Alastor! I’ll be maybe…four hours or so.”

He chewed slowly, since the misunderstanding he was a little more nervous than usual. You didn’t want him to join you, were you worried Brady would see? He shook his head, confusing you.

“...excuse me?” You laughed, “No?”

His head popped up, he still sometimes forgot you were right there and not on a phone, “Sorry, I was thinking about what to do with myself. No problem, sweetheart. You can just call me when you’re ready and I’ll head back into town. I’ll stick around the house, get some stuff ready for winter.”

“Perfect!” Perfect. 

So it was decided. He would tell you tomorrow that Brady came by his office. And you’d tell him Saturday that you were in love with him. 

That was the short lived plan. He couldn’t manage to wait. When the silence of the night settled and you had turned over to try and fall asleep, he broke. 

“I really hate keeping secrets from you.” His fingers were pulling and pushing at the edge of the blanket. 

You have secrets? You turned around and sat up. 

“Brady and his partner came by today to my office, like you’d expected. I didn’t want to ruin our day, knowing how rarely we will live traditionally. But it’s just bothering the hell out of me.” His hands came to cover his cheeks and crawl into his hair out of stress. An overreaction, the weekend having truly discombobulated the man. 

A beat of confusion, tense for Alastor but void of anything for you, until you burst into a relaxed laughter, “You’re ridiculous. You were really eaten up huh?”

“It isn’t funny!”

“It’s a litlte funny.” you pulled his head down onto your lap, “You coulda told me. It doesn't ruin anything. I told you he was going to look for you. I didn’t think he’d do it the next business day, but still.” He shifted his body to lie on his side and let you take off his glasses and set them on your side table. “Do you think he still suspects you?”

He thought about it. A little.

Maybe.

Brady seemed dejected when he had left, but he could see the wheels turning in his head as he was still searching for a way to make this puzzle pieces fit. 

“Probably. His partner seemed to believe me. A listener, it turns out.” Alastor pouted, still upset at your laughter. 

“That’s hilarious. I bet it pissed him off to no end, right?”

“He looked shocked. It was difficult to not laugh.” He let his legs fall off the side of the bed so he could turn onto his back and look up at you. “I told him you were a fling, that I had my fun and then disappeared because you were trouble. I said nude dancers getting beat up should be expected. I don’t mean that.”

“Of course you don’t. I remember your face when you saw through my makeup. Sure didn't look expected to me.”

His legs drew up, knees pressed together. “Was it still a good day?”

“You told me what was on your mind instead of driving yourself mad about it. It was a perfect day.” The open window let in enough light to see his stress melt away from the corner of his eyes. 

He sat up and kissed your nose, “Thank you. You can sleep now.”

“Oh, I've been asleep the whole time. You’re gonna have to do this all again in the morning.”

“That’s not funny.” 

You kissed his cheek and he smiled away the frown before settling back onto his side of the bed to earnestly sleep.

Flowers, you thought. You should buy flowers on Saturday, too. 

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

Alastor nerves hadn’t settled yet, even if he slept well beside you. Every day he came home and you were still there felt like he’d been holding his breath the entire drive. During lunch he’d call the house so you could talk and eat together, in a sense. The conversation eased him, a confirmation you still liked him. An embarrassing fear he couldn’t let you on to. 

He didn’t understand you spent the week calling record shops in search of something specific. Plotting exactly how you’d do it. You’d mastered the phonograph in the room beside the kitchen and found an old vase in the back of the cupboard. 

The panic didn’t settle for you either though. It just shifted to the confession from Brady. As if through osmosis, Brady was now Alastor’s main concern as soon as their hands shook. You were less scared, as he really did seem to be dismissed by his colleague from what you saw. Dejected and forlorn from what Alastor had described. 

Alastor was honest with you that he left work early to check on Brady midweek. He was practically dancing through the kitchen when he reported Brady went home on time for the first night in what could have been weeks. And he did so looking like shit.

And he felt like shit. When they left the radio station, Freeman gave him the silent treatment the entire ride back to work. He opened his mouth to offer an alternative theory, perhaps you or Alastor had a brother, but Freeman immediately shut him down.

“Stop. Enough.” He snapped from his desk. “It is over, Kenny. Let it go. Maybe some monster is out there doing all this crazy shit you think they are but it’s not this man nor this lady so just fucking drop it.”

He sat quietly the rest of the work day, thinking over everything again. It still felt right, but Alastor didn’t look right. Maybe it was a group, some new gang in town. Perhaps Alastor had some business with them. 

Staring at his neatly folded map of downtown, his fingers slid over the last known locations of the various missing people over the past year. 

Is downtown just inherently dangerous, he wondered. He supposed the map lined up with the jazz scene, and where there is dance and liquor there’s crime.

He went home to his wife and startled her with his promptness. While she was elated, he felt hollow. Purposeless. Freeman had warned him he’d invented this conspiracy to make work more interesting. Maybe that was right. Life was boring. Everything was so steady and stable. Nothing exciting anymore. It’s possible. He could have imagined a connection. 

But his wife accidentally stoked the dying flame of his suspicions. 

When he told her everything, about Alastor and the dancer he chased down and the missing Tommy, she hummed. 

“He could be like that Holmes man in Chicago.” She smiled from across the meat and potatoes she’d slow cooked over the day.

Brady asked what she meant. 

“He killed all these people at his hotel. On the outside he was a very fine looking man! Respected doctor, or something.” She took her time to chew, leaving Brady waiting for the point, “Turns out his hotel had some secret dungeon where he killed people. I’m fuzzy on the details, but, he hung for it. Maybe your guy has a secret room in his house or a cabin in the woods.”

He would have kissed her but he was too tired to move. As she continued on, changing to the topic of novels and then movies, he pushed the potatoes around his plate. 

No way work would listen to him if he suggested it. He’d lost all of his goodwill. But, as a citizen, he could maybe just….look into the public records for the radio man. Any convenient structures he owned. No one needed to know, no embarrassment if he was wrong again.

Just, one more check. To be absolutely sure. For his peace of mind. 

“So he murdered the actress for threatening to reveal he was only half white! It was a real shock. I swear talkies just get more and more intriguing.” She beamed sweetly across the table, happy to have him home, “By Hitchcock. Isn’t that a hoot?”

He nodded absentmindedly, “Sounds fun, dear.”

She let the misplaced comment go, and moved to turn on the radio. Something to fill the silence. She wondered if her favorite program was on, though it was a little late for that. 

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

The day finally came, your highly anticipated and scheduled confession. Saturday morning you slipped on your shoes, pushing back thoughts of everything they’d seen, and slid into the car. You had a game plan. Apartment, get your stash and change out your shoes. Head to the phonograph shop on Calliope and grab the record. Flower shop, something bright and fragrant. Stop by the theater for a bottle of whatever they were willing to part with. Call him from there to pick you up behind the building.

Flawless.

Honestly, the easy part.

Alastor dropped you off in front of your building and you kissed him hurriedly. You didn’t need Ephi bounding down the steps and introducing herself. 

You didn’t need Ephi, full stop.

“I’ll call you from the theater so I can wait inside. Lo-,” Your mouth opened to say it, as you’d been practicing it in your head all week, “Lucky me I’m still welcome there.” A quick save.

You waved him off and bounded up the steps. Ephi answered when you knocked, hair disheveled and still wearing the dress she must have worn out the night before.

A familiar dress.

“Who said you could wear my clothes?!” You kicked the door closed behind you.

Ephi fell back onto your bed with a creaking of the metal springs, “You didn’t say I couldn’t.”

Barely a second into the room and you were already reeling with anger. What a skill she had.

Shoes off, you threw them on top of the closet out of her natural reach and searched for something flatter. Not too flat though. Alastor always looked too good for you to look like you didn’t care for what was fashionable.

Deep breaths, you grabbed the dresser with both hands and wretched it from the wall, startling Ephi back awake.

“What the fuck? Are you taking the furniture?! It’s a fucking dress.”

Relief as you saw the handkerchief still taped to the backboard of the shelf. Ripping it off, you shoved it into your bag. No need to count it, had Ephi found the cash the entire thing would be gone already. 

“Are you hiding money around your apartment…,” it wasn’t a question so much as an oddly worded accusation.

Your march to the door paused, briefly entertaining carrying your remaining clothes around with you but abandoning the idea. Let her borrow them for now, you were busy today.

You were gone without a goodbye, anger simmering away and evaporating with every block. 

As the distance between your problem and you became greater, the gap was closing in on Alastor and his.

He was in the kitchen splashing his face with water,  dusty from sweeping the porch, when he heard a car door slam shut. Not a normal sound for him to hear. Even more out of place than a ‘welcome home’. A moment of concern as he quickly dried his hands, maybe you had gotten a ride home already. It was possible he missed your call, but he’d kept the windows open to hear the phone. 

When he came to the front door, no one was there. A car was parked a ways behind his own though. Alastor stepped out and looked around the wrap around porch before turning back and going to the back door. Past the stairs and the kitchen doorway, he could see the shape of a man. He was standing in front of the greenhouse with both hands on his hips, staring at it. Bright hair reflecting the sun.

The screen door whined as Alastor opened it, announcing him much sooner than he had wanted. It was finally happening. The moment that was both inevitable and fiercely guarded against. 

“Census information is quite easy to find with a name like yours.”

Alastor tried to muster a hospitable smile, “Detective Brady. To what do I owe the sudden visit?”

Brady turned around and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, “I need to go get a warrant?”

The air between them tightened. “Not at all, did you want to come inside?” 

Brady nodded, a smug smile and a wink, “Sure do.”

Alastor returned to the kitchen for the key, grabbing a small paring knife and placing it in the back pocket of his slacks. Sharp and quick. 

“Wasn’t expecting guests…,” he admitted as he came back down the clean steps. He was never expecting guests, but he had been expecting this. 

“Good.” Brady clapped his hands together, “Quite the building ya got here.” He followed Alastor in and immediately looked up to the tall ceiling. “An uncommon thing to have. Only seen them at real fancy public places.”

Alastor turned right, following the winding path of busy shelves and potted trees with a practiced ease. Brady watched him slip between two large plants and hesitated.

With a hand on his gun, be pushed through.

“Ya know what my wife and I were just talking about?” He followed close behind. He couldn’t see Alastor but he could hear the leaves rustling. “H. H. Holmes.”

“Another missing manager?” Alastor asked from the other side of some crowded shelves.

“It’s thought he killed 9 people up in Chicago.” Brady emerged from the makeshift jungle to see Alastor standing in the center. 

“Busy man!” Alastor stood with his hands behind his back, sheathed in his pockets. “This is where the magic happens!” He nodded to the stainless steel table. “My gardening space.”

Brady looked at the table, then up to the high ceilings again. He took a step toward the table and crouched down.

His heels sunk in. Standing, he pressed his shoe in the soil around the table. Backing off he then tested the ground some feet away. It was noticeably firmer. “Ground sure is soft over there.”

“Water! Turns out plants love the stuff. Who knew!” Alastor’s fingers curled around the knife’s handle, “I prune, propagate, and repot them here and rinse it off after. Due to the shade of the table, the ground tends to stay wet longer.” He wondered if Brady had told anyone where he was. Maybe Freeman? 

The whole thing could be expedited by letting him bleed out on the greenhouse floor. Just a few swipes and this could all be over. He could maybe even have him gone before you called. 

Another little secret. Just one. Brady’s life was an insignificant detail.

Plausible, the detective thought. Brady examined the floor closer, unaware of Alastor’s eyes locked on his neck. He didn’t see much of a soft spot. It’d be improbable to bury all the bodies in such a small space. He’d have to dig too deep. 

“So you actually do like to garden?” He asked.

Alastor laughed, “No, that was a lie. This is all meticulously maintained for aesthetics.” 

Brady’s own laugh was dry in reply, the joke not funny or appreciated, “Night gardening?” He pointed his chin up to the light hanging above them.

“I prefer early mornings, before work.” Alastor leaned back on his heels, he’d waited for this conversation for years. It was almost fun. Brady didn’t know how predictable his arrival had been on some vague level.

Brady nodded and motioned for Alastor to lead him out. He didn’t want the man behind him.

As they snaked their way out again, Alastor fought the sickening feeling in his stomach to just do it. 

But he’d never acted quite so impulsively. He normally had a few hours to think it out beforehand. 

He’d been thinking this out for months now in a way, though, hadn’t he?

Alastor locked the door after Brady stepped out and Brady looked around the land. He couldn’t see any fences, but saw on his way in just how spread out the other homes were. 

“How far is the property line, if you don’t mind me asking? Seems to be quite a large parcel.” He had a rough idea from the paperwork he’d found. 

“It’s about 15 acres, from what I recall.” It was exactly 14.2 acres according to the paperwork. He knew every step by heart. 

As he watched Brady eye the land with a dismissive glance, he realized he’d never killed anyone at his home. It didn’t seem to be a good idea. Like they’d taint the land. Plus, killing the cop in the backyard was about as opposite of what you’d asked of him as he could get. 

The detective slapped his notebook against his palm and whistled, “Radio pays well, huh?”

“Better than a detective, maybe. But this was all my mother’s land.” He said it with pride, one hand leaving his pocket to gesture at the house and beyond. 

“Your mother. And she… how exactly did someone like her get her hands on a plot like this?” Brady squinted at the tree line, knowing full well how he said it. “Quite a bit of land for someone of her… background.” He quickly turned his full body to Alastor, “You see that movie, ‘Murder!’, by Hitchcock? My wife was saying how interesting it was over dinner the other night. Your receptionist mentioned you like the movies.”

Alastor bristled, he’d seen the film and picked up the tone being taken,  “Did you want to see anything else, Kenneth? Or did you drive all the way here to quiz me on your wife's morbid interests?”

“Detective Brady.” He corrected. 

“Maybe in the Orleans parish.” Alastor took a step toward him. He reveled in the confused expression Brady made. “Oh you didn’t realize when you crossed the lake? This is St. Tammany. You’re out of jurisdiction.” Another step. “So I’ll call you whatever I damn well please.”

Brady finally noticed the dwindling space between them and the shadow of the house creeping over Alastor’s face. “Maybe I should head out and get that warrant.”

Alastor’s arms went out in a shrug, “Ah, well, good luck finding a judge to approve you harassing a law abiding land owner for…what exactly? A drugged out criminal who stopped showing up to work? Forgive me for not holding my breath. Now kindly get the fuck off my mother’s property. “  

Brady shook his head, not able to do much more. He couldn’t process the truth in what Alastor had said. “Have a good day, Alastor.”

“And you have a safe night, Kenneth.”

Brady stopped, hand curling into a fist that Alastor didn’t fail to notice. 

“Is that some kind of threat?” It was the way he dragged out the two words. The gleeful range in which he said them. 

“Not at all. A warning really, there’s been some unhinged man harassing dancers lately. Demanding their private information, accusing them of silly crimes. Has the station not heard?” Alastor’s finger came to his chin inquisitively, “Perhaps I should give them a call. Who was your boss again. Freeman, was it?”

Brady felt his stomach drop, “What did you say.” If Alastor hadn’t been with you since before the assault, how did he know that Brady had been struggling to track you down?

“As a man about town who runs in important circles, word travels fast of bothersome people. Helps us learn where to avoid.”

Brady was still holding onto hope that Alastor was your man but now, his throat ran dry. He got more than that.

A man who ran in various circles of the nightlife scene. 

A man above the fray, a position afforded to him by the respect of his job.

A man people talked to often, therefore a man people saw everywhere. So it was never odd that he was always in the places where people went missing. He was ubiquitous. Where the jazz played, Alastor was there. 

A man with no wife to complain so his nights were free. 

A large piece of land. A chip on his shoulder. 

“You son of a bitch…I didn’t tell you Tommy had been involved in drugs. I was right.” The sentence got quieter and softer as he trailed on until he could only whisper, “You killed him.”

Alastor watched the color drain from Brady’s face as the realization hit, but the ‘son’ comment blanketed his frontal cortex and dampened impulse control, “On second thought; yes.”

It was just an expression, son of a bitch, but it’d been the wrong one to use so carelessly. Alastor’s heart was pounding in his ears and behind his eyes.

The detective kept his gaze locked on Alastor as he fished out his keys. His hand shook violently as he tried to get the car door key in his fingers. “Yes what?” Glancing down for a fraction of a second to check he had the right one. 

“That was a threat.”

Alastor’s hand twitched, he fought the rage bubbling up his throat. His vision was beginning to turn red around the edges. He could hear Aubrey squeaking out the first syllable of that damn word just behind his left ear.

Perhaps he was the blade hanging over Brady’s head. 

With even paces he walked over to the stump where he chopped wood and pulled the axe out, “Ya know! Something about you makes my fucking skin crawl.” He pointed it at Brady, the detective taking note of the arm strength needed to hold the unevenly heavy tool steady and parallel to the ground. “I do hope for your sake this is our final meeting. You should leave now.” His head titled to the left, “And keep your nose clean, Kenneth. It’s a dangerous time for bad men in New Orleans.”

Brady walked backwards to his car as Alastor advanced briskly with the blade still raised. When they reached the front porch Brady turned and booked it, glancing behind to see Alastor standing beside the porch on foot worn grass.

As the car started Alastor dropped the axe until it’s flat top of the blade rested on the ground and he leaned his weight onto it akin to a cane. His free hand’s fingers waved goodbye before dropping down to his side limply. He stood there with eyes fixed and body still as a predator waiting for its opportunity. How many gators had Brady watched from the shore with just that look? He peeled out, sight unseen as he blindly backed onto the unpaved road, and made a beeline to the nearest phone. 

He had to tell someone. He was right. He had been right the whole time. Alastor killed Tommy Dupre. And there was no doubt in Brady’s swirling mind that you knew that fact. 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

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

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[shanicebergania]

"She who Drowned"

Drowning. A word that sums up what I feel as I swim through the turbulent ocean called Bachelor of Secondary Education major in English.I fixed my clothes. Then, I combed my hair through my fingers as I practiced smiling in front of a small reflecting screen. ‘7:55 AM’, written at the top left part of my phone. With a deep breath and clammy hand, I clicked the button that read “joined the call.”

There, I was welcomed by faces which were mostly unfamiliar. Some of them were countenances that stared right into the camera, while others were square-shaped graves of varying colors with two letters carved on them. “Good morning, class,” uttered the sweet yet stern voice of the woman in a pixie hair cut. I was actually having the time of my life– excitedly diving into the sea of knowledge our instructor prepared for us. Too happy even. Too happy not to share my ideas regarding the questions she posed. However, that happiness didn't last that long. I felt a lump forming in my throat and my breath became shallow and fast-paced.

I panicked and tried to hide behind the comfort of the screen for the rest of the meeting. Another 20% of my grade slipped through the virtual hand. Frustrated that I couldn't express myself in the language I am majoring in, I kept blaming myself for being too incompetent.

Then, months passed. Different course, different instructor, same experience. Every time I tried to be part of the discussions, I felt like I was reincarnated to the 2017 version of myself, who despite not knowing how to swim slid into a pool. In a flash, my vision was filled with feet, my breath was running out, and my nose was clogged with water. I began to feel scared, thinking that it would be my last day on Earth. So, I wiggled my hands for help. To my dismay, I was far from the bars and everyone else was having fun playing in the water. That's why, I just stood up and tiptoed my way to survival.

In the present time, I did the same thing. Realizing that I couldn't continue living in anxiety, I stood my ground to keep on fighting my fear. Even if my voice trembles, my hands shake, and my feet wiggle in fright– I will speak.There are still times that I feel like I'm drowning, but compared to before it was more of an information overload case from having to take multiple courses that last three hours each in a single day. I think it was because we had a better schedule in the previous years. Not only that, all our classes and activities which mostly focused on reporting, writing poems, essays, reflection papers and analyzing texts were done and submitted online. Also, some of our professors from before gave us time to breathe even if it was just for five minutes. As for my fear of speaking in English, I think I became better at handling it. I was even complimented by some of my classmates when I reported my assigned topic. They said that I explained it clearly.

Although I am still far from being fluent, I can feel and see my progress. I am no longer that student who hides behind her screen or lets a day pass without saying anything. At last, I can now enjoy swimming in the ocean called Bachelor of Secondary Education major in English because I made an effort to learn how to swim. I made an effort to speak.

[yamahex]

Not The Right Time Pt. 4

Summary: You and Riah meet someone new.

A/N: It’s a long one but we gotta build up the drama and sorry for taking so long to write it😅

“Baby who’s this?” Your attention turned to door frame and you were met with a tanned skin woman with curly hair. Jack turned around to face the voice. His heart instantly dropped at the sight of Tori.

“Tori what are you doing here?” She walked up to the chair he was sitting in and you felt your defenses go up. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“What do you mean what am I doing here? I came to watch you preform.” Her eyes scanned your resting figure then landed on your face. There was animosity in her eyes.

Jack’s head turned back to you quickly studying your aura before speaking.

“Y/N this is Tori.” Tori’s expression was quickly replaced with a clearly fake happy reaction.

“Oh I know you, this is the girl who you were grabbing in those pictures.”

“What pictures?”

“Someone took some pictures of us arguing outside the store and posted them.” A nervous expression appeared on your face, wondering if Riah was in the pictures. It’s almost as if Jack knew what you were thinking. He shook his head, subtly telling you she wasn’t.

“Well I should be going, it’s getting late.” You stood up and walked in front of Jack. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and unblocked him on social media.

“Whenever you’re ready to get together for what we talked about, hit me up.” Jack quickly stood up ignoring Tori.

“Yeah for sure, can I have your new number?” He pulled out his phone and brought up his contacts. You nodded and put your number into his phone.

Tori watched from behind feeling jealousy rise in her.

“Have a good night.”

“Goodnight Y/N, drive safe.” You nodded before walking out of the room. The tension immediately left your body, something about that girl rubbed you the wrong way.

“Jack who the fuck is that and why did you ask for her number?!” He sighed and sat back down.

“Tori it’s none of your goddamn business, why the hell are you really here?”

“Because I missed you, and I wanted to talk to you about those pictures.”

Just being around Tori made Jack want to drink again.

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” She huffed in annoyance.

“Yes it is. It’s my business as your girl to know why you’re seen with some other bitch.” Jack’s head snapped towards her.

“Watch your mouth. You ain’t my girl Tori, and you outta do your best to put respect on her name. Matter a fact, we’re done here.” She smacked her lips and walked in front of him.

“ I really miss you J.” Her hand went out to caress his cheek but was intercepted by his hand.

“Goodnight Tori.” He dropped her hand, grabbed his stuff then made his way out the door and to the car.

Tori was left there alone, anger fuming and plotting brewing. She spoke to herself.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll fix everything.”

You quietly unlocked the door to your house, knowing Riah would be asleep. You took off your shoes and locked the door behind you before making your way to Riah’s room. Carefully opening the door you quietly walked in then placed a kiss on her sleeping forehead.

Your mom was waiting for you once you came out.

“How’d it go?”

“It went well, better than expected.” She walked with you to your room.

“So you’re gonna let him meet Ri?”

“Yeah I am, he seemed genuine.” She smiled, easily being able to tell your feelings for him were still there.

“So did you talk about anything else?” Your cheeks flushed at the thought of him saying he missed you.

“He asked if I was single then said he missed me.”

“He might want to get back together with you.”

“He has a girlfriend.” Her expression dropped.

“Oh well, at least you can co parent. Anyways I’m gonna head off to bed. Goodnight love you.” She kissed your cheek while hugging you.

“Goodnight love you too.” You sighed and went to change into your pajamas when you heard a ding from your phone. After changing you went to check it.

“Hey, just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” You smiled and saved Jack’s number.

“I did, thank you.”

“No problem. I’m sorry bout Tori.” You moved to lay in your bed.

“No it’s okay, I didn’t know you had a girl.”

“Nah I don’t, she’s just old fling who can’t take a hint.” Slight happiness filled your mind at the thought of him being single.

“Well thank you for checking up on me but I gotta get my beauty sleep.”

“Lol you don’t need it but Aight, goodnight big head.” Your heart fluttered at the old nickname.

“Goodnight J.”

Jack had to decided to prolong his stay in Vegas, in order to get close to you and Riah for the time being. Which Neelam was not happy about, but she managed to book him some shows so his fans had something to look forward too.

Over time you and Jack began reconnecting over the phone and you could feel yourself falling in love all over again.

“Do you want to come to the studio and see everyone again?”

“I’m not sure, won’t it be awkward?”

“Was it awkward with Urb?”

“No but..”

“Don’t overthink it.”

“Alright. Do you want me to bring Ri?”

Jack felt a sudden wave of anxiety.

“Yeah I’d love that, I’ll meet you in the lobby so that way we can do the introduction just the three of us.”

“Alright sounds good. Send me the address and we’ll be over in like a hour.”

“For sure.”

You spent the next 20 minutes getting ready and making sure Riah was ready too. But you could help to feel nervous.

What would she think?

Would she accept him?

You sighed and walked into her room to get her.

“Mama, you ready?” She got up from her toys and nodded. Your crouched in front of her and smoothed down her hair.

“So you’re gonna meet someone new today Ri, alright? And I’ll explain it to you when you meet him.”

“Okay mommy!” You smiled then picked her up and walked to the door.

“Good luck!” Your mom hugged both of you.

“Thank you.”

The closer you got, the more your nerves set in. Once you pulled up at the building you texted Jack. He was quick to read the message and walk into the lobby.

Upon walking in, he saw you talking to Riah. She turned her head and looked at him.

“Mommy it’s the guy from the store!”

“Yeah babe it is.” Jack walked up to the two of you and crouched at her level.

“Hi Riah, Nice to meet you.”

“How do you know my name?” She looked at you confused.

“Babe remember how when you started school this year and you came home asking why you didn’t have a daddy like other people in your class?” She nodded.

“Well Ri, you do. It’s just that sometimes people get mad at each other and don’t talk for awhile.” She turned her head to look at Jack.

“Is this my daddy?” Her head turned to look back at you and you nodded.

Silence overtook the atmosphere.

“Riah are you okay-“ Riah ran into Jacks arms and hugged him leaving you shocked.

Jacks arms instantly wrapped around her while a few tears slid down his cheeks. This image was burned into your brain, and you knew you would remember this forever. When you found you were pregnant, six years ago this was the only thing you wanted to come out of it. A family.

A smile appeared on your face as you wiped your tears. Jack stood up with Riah in his arms and lightly rocked back and forth. He looked at you and held out one of his arms allowing you to join in on the hug. You subconsciously leaned into his touch as your arms wrapped around Riah.

After a couple of minutes Jack led you and Riah to the room, holding her little hand. They got to know each other during the walk. When Jack opened the door to the recording room you were met with PG. Your heart seemed to do backflips. Six years had gone by without talking to your friends. You were so happy to see them.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N, the milf.” 2fo joked making the room crack up. “Hey guys, it’s so good to see you all.” You made your way around the room giving hugs and making convos. Jack handed you Riah and you introduced her.

“Baby these are mommy’s friends from school and back home.” You set her down. She walked up to the group of guys and shook their hands in adorable way, making them chuckle at her cuteness.

Jack walked up to you.

“Feel awkward?”

You looked up at him.

“Not at all.”

“So Y/N what have you been up to these days.” You sat on the couch and Riah walked up to you and stood between your legs.

“Just taking care of this lil munchkin.” You bent down and kissed the top of her head. The moment was interrupted by Tori entering the room, once again making your defenses go up.

“Oh isn’t this a cute lil moment we got going on here.”

To Be Continued…

Tags: @nye18 @moody4world @skybridgerton @slut4jackman @kalaharlow @yonduismarrypoppins @divalicious-jessa-blog @primadxna-girl @letmebeyoureuphoria

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny Pt 2

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny (Pt 2). The morning after and basically wayyyy to long so the smut is gonna have to be in pt 3. (word count: a little over 2k)

pt 1 here

TW: Yandere themes, day after dub con, reader is held against their will

You were sore. Your hips, wrists, back, pussy, everything ached. A silky sheet was the only thing covering your bare form. You could feel that you were alone in bed, Toshi's bulkiness was no longer weighing down the mattress. It must be mid morning because light was streaming through the curtains. Maybe if you remained still you could absorb into the mattress. Not only because of your tender body, but because you would prefer to never see your boss again. But speak of the devil. "Are we staying in bed all day?" You groaned. Hating how he worded his question. We. It was condescending, patronizing, and somehow filled you with butterflies. Something was placed on the bed, definitely not heavy enough to be Toshi. And then you realized, not something but a tiny someone. Baby Izuku crawled over to you, babbling, and tapped your sore shoulder. "Morning, Zuzu," You mumbled. Your joints crackled to life and you tightened the covers so you could face the little one. Behind him the clock read 11:00 am. "I need to get dressed." The villain cocked his head, "I tossed your clothes in the laundry do you want me to go get something from your closet?" No, you didn't want him running through your belongings. He would probably make a mess. "Just give me one of your shirts." That provided you enough modesty to get to your room and you were surprised the menace didn't follow. You scrubbed your body raw under the shower, subconsciously punishing yourself for taking pleasure from the night before. You were frustrated. Clean and covered in giant sweat pants and a hoodie you stormed into the living room where Toshi sat watching izuku entertain himself. "I quit." There was a pause. You tried not to look at the child. He would sway your resolve. This didn't have anything to do with him, it was between you and his father. "Alright." Oh. He wasn't going to challenge you? Figures, the man got what he wanted from you. You turned on your heels and rushed back to your room. You didn't own much so it wasn't hard to shove your belongings back into the suitcase. Opening your bedside drawer you froze. Your keys and phone were missing. This was their spot. The dedicated key-and-phone drawer. You check the room once, twice, then Izuku's room, the playroom, the kitchen. "Where are my keys?" You hissed, to hell with the phone you could buy a replacement. "Why would you need those," His voice was taunting. You felt your fists ball up and your nails dug into your palms. You stomped your foot like a frustrated child. "Because I'm leaving, I quit, now give me my keys." "I agreed you can quit, if that's what makes you feel better. I didn't say anything about leaving." The tension could be cut with a knife. He wasn't speaking or moving, he was eerily looming. In the other room Izuku was getting fussy. It knotted your stomach not going to check on him, but you kept your eyes on the villain. Toshinori was the first one to move, he went to check on his son. Clearly you weren't a threat. You could do without the keys, even sacrifice your suitcase. You made it all the way to the front door where you expected him to be, but he wasn't. He was with Izuku. With a twist at the knob the door didn't budge. You tried once more before angrily shaking the door. All Might called for you, "I told you that you aren't leaving. It's a two way security system but feel free to keep trying." When did he install this? You didn't see anything obvious like a box or camera indicating a security system. You could've thrown a fit or tried to break open the window but you had a feeling you wouldn't make it far. "What are you getting at?" You asked, rejoining the father-son duo. "Nothing aside from what we discussed last night in bed," he was making your cheeks burn red. "Making sure we stay a happy family." By the tone of his voice you knew there was no room for discussion. He didn't chastise you for slamming the door your room. He didn't pester you through out the day. He didn't even open your door to tell you he made dinner. He came by later to tell you (through the door) that he left you a plate in case you get hungry. By midnight you were. You tip toed down the hall, peeking into to the nursery to see Izuku fast asleep. You scarfed down the food before crawling back to bed. --- The next day you shuffled out of bed and into Izuku's room where you picked up the quiet but awake baby. You were gentle as you combed through his green curls with your fingers. He was still warm the way babies gets when they sleep. Holding him soothed you. Toshi melted when he saw you two curled up on the couch. He didn't want to ruin the mood so he stayed out of your line of sight for a few more minutes. Finally he entered the threshold of the room, "I'm heading out for the day but I won't be out late." You could've ignored him, but Izuku's grubbing hands were grabbing for his daddy. You had been defeated by the toddler. You weren't a monster. You moved toward your now ex-employer so he could tell his son goodbye. Goodbye before he goes off to commit atrocities. Toshi kissed the child’s chubby cheeks without removing him from your arms. He was too close for comfort. You took an awkward half step back before his huge hand caught your hair. With a tug, your chin jutted forward and he pressed his lips to yours. "Zuku, keep an eye on mommy," Chuckling as he stepped out the front door. Your mind was fuzzy for a moment before looked down at the boy on your hip who was giggling and clapping his hands together. --- The jovial villain was focused at work. He was on edge, quiet and irritable. Eager to return home and help you with his son. All Might wasn't delusional — well at least not entirely. He anticipated that this would be a rough time for you, but you were a good girl, you would adjust.

When he placed that ad to scout for someone to watch Izuku he didn't plan for this. But you were so perfect. He ached for you in a way he never hurt before. Had you been anyone else he would've killed you when you found out his villainous ways. But no, he could never bring himself to harm you. God, you even took the news in stride. Yeah, you weren't thrilled and may have walked out of their lives if he hadn't stopped you; but you weren't trashing his house or treating Izuku any differently.

And you were so pretty underneath him, whimpering while you took his length, your nails digging into the man's shoulders when he released into you. You slept like a rock afterwards, rolling unconsciously into him. Your body sought his comfort, knowing you were safe with him. He just needed to give you time to adjust.

--- It didn't take long for you to stop leaving the room any time he entered. And soon you were back to your normal routine of caring for the child and keeping up with the house. You resumed playing around with Izuku and began reading a ton of books to the boy. You told Toshi that Izuku could even pick which books he wanted you to read. It was nice that you were talking to him again, sometimes making jabs at his life choices and always kept a distance between yourself and him. Izuku was becoming quite the talker, well the babbler because he hasn't said his first word yet. He was figuring it out though. He knew he could say 'Ap-ap' for apple or to get picked up. You were sure he would say his first word any day. --- The three of you were in the living room when it happened. Izuku was watching some baby show, the first "lesson" was colors and the little one did his best to make nonsensical noises. The next subject was family members. Siblings, sister, brother. Parents. Mom, mommy, mama. Dad, daddy, papa. Grandma, grandpa. Aunt, auntie. Uncle. Over and over again until the show was done. Toshi looked at the izuku who was wearing the face of a thinker. He looked at his dad, the little one was trying to get something of importance out. You both cheered for him once he finally got out the word "papa." It was cute to see the man beam with pride, even though he was a villain. The butterflies were breaking out of their cocoons again. --- Toshi didn't get much alone time with his son and he liked it that way. That meant you were with them. But when he did get time with son he worked on teaching the boy that you were the mommy. Mama. And Izuku would try to repeat but hadn’t quite got it. --- You were struggling to maintain your composure in between watching the news and cooking dinner. All Might was robbing a bank. There were hostages. You recognized the location immediately as a bank you passed almost daily before working for Toshinori. Did you know anyone inside? A small part of you worried for the man, probably because you were thinking of him as Izuku's father rather than a villain. You shut the TV off when you heard Izuku start to wake from his nap.

That night you couldn't help but notice a slice on his arm; it was superficial, not even bleeding but enough to draw out the question: Why do you do it? It's easy, he shrugged. All Might never initiated an attack unprovoked nor directed his actions towards helpless civilians. He stole, dabbled in the black market, and made sure everyone knew not to mess with him or anyone in his circle.

You just couldn't understand. When Zuku gets older he will ask questions. All little boys idolize their dads. What if someone tried to hurt the boy? 

The two of you were whisper yelling with each other. You more so than Toshi but he was still running low on patience; it had been a long day, after all. Izuku was picking up on the changing atmosphere, watching you both through furrowed brows, the quiver in his lip worsening. You stopped when you heard the whimpering begin. He was a sensitive child. Maybe you just needed to sleep. Toshi picked up the baby, bouncing Zuku in the way that always prevented tantrums and wails. He kept babbling and you could tell he was doing his best not to cry. You started to head towards your room when a cry broke out for 'mama.' This time it wasn't Toshi “putting you in your place”. This time it was Izuku.

"It's okay, Zuzu," Toshi soothed. "Mommy just needs a minute."

The crushing realization of just how trapped you were knocked the wind out of you. You couldn't leave the house. Toshi was always being too kind and patient. Somehow he managed to teach Izuku that you were his mommy. The most infamous villain had ensnared you and no matter what he wasn’t letting go. You would never be able to convince him to leave you alone and you'd never be able to leave Izuku.

You were tired of stubbornly holding out. Pathetic tears cascaded down your face, gentle and oddly relieving. Izuku practically leapt into your arms. The tot clung to you and his crying calmed down. you turned away, not able to look at the man.

"Are you going to think the worst of me forever?" Toshinori whispered. Maybe? Probably not. It was hard to tell. You didn't want to.

He continued, "I'm a good father, I would never let anyone hurt Izuku. Or you. Sure I don't have a lot of redeeming qualities but there are some."

You were tired of being stuck inside. It wasn't good for Izuku either. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't so sure you would abandon them even if given the chance. You were tired of trying to hate the man behind you. Tired of pretending you didn't fantasize about that night when you were alone in bed. Toshi moved right behind you and you relaxed against his huge chest. He was surprised and hesitant to move in case he frightened you to your senses. He couldn't just stand there though, that would be weird. Two thick arms wrapped around waist. "Tomorrow I wanna take Izuku to the park," You whispered. Toshi was equally defeated.

"Okay."

---

After putting Izuku to bed you made your way down the hall. The shower in Toshinori's bathroom was running. That was fine. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. If this was going to work without you feeling like a hostage he was going to have to be open to loosing the reigns. 

He was surprised to see you in his room when he exited the bathroom in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants. 

"More fighting?" He cocked an eyebrow. 

You shook your head, "I hate All Might, just as much as I hate every other villain. But when you come home I don't see All Might, I just see Toshinori, Izuku's dad. That's the man I care about and no matter how much I fight it I can't stop caring."

It was hard to keep eye contact with him but you continued, "I want to be with you and Izuku, not with All Might. And I want to be here on my own accord. I want to be able to go out with Izuku and with you. Can't we just try that?" 

You didn't come in here to berate him again? Or to demand to leave? His heart softened as he realized that the person he wanted, wanted him back. You were willing to remain in their lives. 

"I can try that." 

Toshi trained his eyes on your body, fighting every instinct to close the space between. But you moved first, gingerly placing your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you straddled his lap.

"Can I sleep in here tonight? I want you to hold me," You whispered.

He nodded and rested his forehead against the crook of your neck. "Is that all you want from me tonight?"

[rose-pearls]

Senior prom at Hawkins

Summary: Steve asked you to go to prom with you after overhearing a conversation between you and Robin, which leads to the best night of you life. (Robin is the same age as Steve here!)

Senior prom was just a month away from now and yet everyone seemed to think that it was going to happen tomorrow; all the posters for prom queen and king were up and everyone was talking about their dresses and costumes and how to spike the punch bowl. 

Don’t get me wrong prom is something that I enjoy but the thought of ending my high school career going to prom without a date wasn’t the most fun idea. It’s cliché but I guess I always wanted to have a high school sweetheart.  But luckily, I had the most amazing friend – her words not mine – Robin Buckley who also didn’t have a date, so we are going together with some other friends.

“So did you hear?”, I jumped at the voice and saw that it was Robin. “Well, you probably didn’t so let me tell you my dear sweet friend!”, I laughed softly as I closed my locker and let her take me to her next class as I had a free period.

“Apparently Steve Harrington got his ass kicked by Billy Hargrove and is still dateless for prom! Can you believe it?! The people of Hawkins are going crazy over it”, Robin was practically screaming in the corridor while playing a dramatic version of the person she probably heard it from.

“Well, I do hope that he is doing well because Hargrove clearly has some anger issues.”, Robin snickered at that and told me that he wasn’t looking pretty.

“As for his date to prom, we don’t either so we can’t really say anything”, Robin rolled her eyes at that. “Plus, he is the hair Harrington I am sure that he will find someone I mean even if he isn’t the top bitch in this school anymore, he is still the most handsome!”, Robin started covering her ears as I said that while faking vomiting.

“Please don’t ever tell me that he is handsome! I mean I already have to see you look at his ass every time he walks by so don’t make this worse”

“And I don’t say anything when you look at Tammie Thompsons boobs”, Robin shot me a glare at that.

“Please she has great boobs and way better hair than Harrington’s”, I scoffed at that.

“No, she doesn’t! He was literally nicknamed ‘the hair’!”, Robin muttered under her breath something that seemed to be the word ‘details’. 

“Fine, I will let you fantasize about Harrington’s great butt and hair while I go to geometry!”, before I could say anything else she was already running into her classroom, god she was going to kill me one day.

“So, you fantasize about my ass?”, I felt my blood run cold as I heard the voice of Steve Harrington just behind me.

As I turn around, I see Steve looking at me with a big smirk on his face like the cat that got the cream.

“W – What? No! Definitely not, Robin was just saying that as a joke!”, I was a blubbering mess, and my cheeks were getting as red as his sweatshirt. 

Steve let out a soft laugh and hummed softly.

“So, you don’t like my ass?”, he asked with his smirk still in place. If I thought the blush, I had was bad before that my cheeks were now a flaming red.

“No? Well, I mean you have a great… Oh god why am I saying this”, Steve started laughing at that and I joined him (for me mostly out of embarrassment).

“Thank you for that I needed the ego boost”, I let out a huff at that and he gave me a big smile that turned a bit shier at the end. “And the laugh.”, I was surprised to hear that but then again, he probably didn’t have an easy year with Nancy Wheeler leaving him for Byers and Hargrove stealing his crown and now beating him up.

“Well, I am happy that my embarrassing statement made you laugh!”, Steve chuckled at that and passed a hand through his hair; god that hair was amazing.

“Thank you it takes a long time to get it to perfection!”, Steve sends me a wink and I suddenly feel like dying right here right now.

“God sorry I guess that all the studying makes me say somethings that I shouldn’t say.”, I hope that he buys the explanation because that is better than telling him I have a crush on him since third grade.

“Well, it doesn’t bother me at all in fact I quite enjoy it”, I groaned softly of course he was enjoying this with that stupid smirk of his.

I was going to tell him that I had to leave to go to the library when he looked at me with his big brown eyes looking like Bambi and I felt myself wanting to stay.

“You know we were in English together last year?”, I smiled softly at that he was always the one to try and make the class a but funnier than it was. 

“Yeah, I remember that class was boring!”, Steve laughed at that and looked back up from his shoes.

“I remember your presentation at the end of the school-year about your idol and I was so invested in it.”

“You were probably the only one then”, Steve scoffed a bit at that and shook his head.

“I am sure that I was not! But before that day I hadn’t really noticed you but after that I started seeing you everywhere!”, he seemed hesitant to continue. 

“It’s funny how you can go from not seeing someone to suddenly seeing them everywhere.”, I felt a blush coming on my cheeks as he said this, but I was also asking myself where he was going with this.

“I’m probably not making any sense right now, but I want to ask you if you would like to go to prom with me?”, he seemed scared to utter the last words, but he looked at me with a hopeful look.

I was in shock, not only was he admitting that for about a year he was seeing me everywhere, but he was also asking me to prom.

“I totally understand if you don’t want to, I mean I’m not ‘King Steve’ anymore and my best friend is a middle schooler…”, he continued to ramble and stopped when I said his name.

“Steve, I don’t care if you are king Steve or if you aren’t! You are an amazing person and sure you hang out with middle schoolers, but I don’t see the real issue with that, half of our class are assholes, so I understand your choice!”, Steve let out a soft chuckle at that, but he seemed nervous.

“As for your question, I would love to go to prom with you Steve”, to say he was shocked was right because he was looking at me like a fish out of water.

“Really? Oh, wow okay!”, I laughed at his rambling and the way he passed a hand through his hair messing it up.

“That is incredible! I just have to drop Dustin of at his dance but then I can come and get you! You also must tell me what color your dress is for my tie and your flowers!”, Steve continued to say what we needed to do while I smiled softly at the boy in front of me.

“Steve! We have one month before prom I think we can arrange it in time!”, I tried reassuring him. He nodded at me and gave me a blinding smile.

“You are right, sorry! We could go on a date to plan everything out?”, he asked this question with the most innocent smile on his face, and I had to restrain myself from kissing him right there.

“Mmmh I think that is a good idea we do have a lot to plan! But maybe we could also get to know each other better?”, Steve gave me a big smile at my words and took a step towards me.

“Well, what about Friday night?”, Steve was suddenly in front of me and put a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“I am free”, I gave him a shy smile and he gave me a large one back. 

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up at seven?”, I gave a soft nod and Steve let out a soft sigh of relieve.

“Well, I’ll see you Friday then! Can’t wait”, I felt a bit cold as Steve stepped away from me, probably going to his class.

“Me neither hopefully it will come quickly!”, Steve smiled and wished me goodbye while still looking at me and stepping away.

As he turned the corner, I suddenly remembered that Robin wanted to go to the movies Friday; she was going to kill me!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was finally prom night and after enduring exams and Robin whining about me spending too much time with Steve, I was ready for it to start.

“Alright how do I look?”, I turned to Robin while doing a little spin.

“You do clean up nice!”, I scoffed at that but let out a laugh.

“You look fabulous and everyone in there is going to be so jealous! Get ready to be prom queen!”, Robin let out a laugh at my disgusted face.

“Thank you, you look beautiful too! Get ready for the crown my dear”, Robin smiled at that and started doing a fake acceptance speech as if she had won prom queen. I smiled at that and felt a bit guilty at not going to prom with her anymore.

“Hey, I’m sorry that I dropped out of our friend prom to go with Steve. I mean I am so happy to go with him, but you are also my best friend, and I don’t want you to forget that!”, I breathed out a sigh after saying that and felt the bed dip under me.

“Trust me I will not forget it, I mean we are still planning on eloping to Vegas and getting a fake wedding, so you are stuck with me”, I laughed at that and took her in my arms. 

“You are incredible Robin don’t you ever forget that!”, Robin looked at me with teary eyes before slapping me on the arm.

“Don’t make me cry I wasted to much time on getting ready”, I started laughing at that while she got up to try and get her hair under control.

“Please you took ten minutes”, Robin smiled at me through the mirror.

“Exactly ten minutes lost at doing this instead of other things!”, before I could say anything the doorbell rang.

As I went downstairs, I heard my mother open the door and heard her talking to Steve.

“You look beautiful!”, I felt a blush rising on my cheeks at his words and at his look of awe.

“Well, you are looking quite handsome!”, Steve gave me big smile before kissing me softly on the lips. 

“Ew not in front of me! And your mother! Have some respect!”, Steve and I started to laugh at Robin’s words and my mother let out a soft laugh while shaking her head.

“You are looking good too Buckley”, Steve smiled at Robin while putting his arm around me.

“You don’t look so bad yourself dingus! Now are we going or not people?”, all three of us cheered and started going to the car before my mom stopped us and started taking pictures of us.

After what felt like an eternity, we were finally at Hawkins high senior prom. Robin went to talk to some people that she knew from band and Steve dragged me to the dance floor. While Steve was good at basketball, he wasn’t the greatest at dancing! 

A slow song started playing and Steve took me in his arms while looking down at me with a loving smile. 

“I can’t believe you said yes to go to the prom with me!”, I let out a scoff at that and Steve laughed.

“Well, I can’t believe you asked me!”, it was Steve’s turn to let out a scoff at my words.

“You know going on dates with you and learning to get to know you it really has helped me getting up the courage to ask you something”, I was smiling at Steve words while wondering what he was going to be asking.

“So, my question is would you like to be my girlfriend?”, Steve was looking nervous at the question.

“I am shocked that you even need to ask me this question! Of course, I want to be your girlfriend!”, Steve let out a soft ‘thank god’ and kissed me on the lips.

“You do know you will have to see Robin much more then, right?”, Steve laughed at that and nodded solemnly.

“I think we came to an agreement the both of us, she calls me dingus and I annoy her with my stupid hair”, I laughed at his response and started telling him that his hair wasn’t stupid when the music changed.

“Guys!!”, Robin came running towards us on the dance floor with several people glaring at her for pushing them. 

“It’s our song! Well not yours dingus but it could also be yours!”, Steve looked like a happy puppy at these words and suddenly I heard the first words of the song.

“It is our song! It’s Running Up That Hill!”, I shook Steve a bit to make him understand and he started laughing.

The three of us started singing the song and as the night went on, I felt myself not being able to stop smiling. Robin and Steve were doing some ridiculous dancing on Lay all your love on me by ABBA and took me to the dance floor when Every breath you take came on to dance.

Safe to say it was the best night of our high school time.