#THE TENSION IS DELICIOUS I CAN ONLY HOPE TO SURVIVE IT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

minkdelovely · 1 month ago

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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!! 😂

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.

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

I just love you so much.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.”

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.

“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.

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.

“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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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

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.

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.”

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.

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.

“Detective Brady.” He corrected.

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.”

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.”

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

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.

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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#THE TENSION IS DELICIOUS I CAN ONLY HOPE TO SURVIVE IT #AAHHH!!!#alastor x reader #human alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fan fiction #x reader #article by mink

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frannyzooey · 1 year ago

Text

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E

A/N: Thank you to the incomparable @bageldaddy who not only looked this over for me, but who also inspired the entire idea by being such a inspiring, delicious Joel Miller whore. This one is for you ❤

“Stop squirmin’,” he scolds, a hard hand on your hip.

You’re trying not to, but tension builds between your bodies, the solid wall of his chest rising and falling along your spine. So close you can feel heat leeching through his clothes, his warm breath skims along the nape of your neck and a damp throb beats thick and distracting between your legs.

Slow, steady breaths are all you have, and so you take them.

In and out. In and out.

His hips shift when he zips up the sleeping bag along the side and when his lap nudges you from behind, you hold your breath and clench your eyes tight, your thighs squeezing together.

The masculine scent pressed into his clothing fills your senses, the strength in his solid form enveloping you in a protective press when he slings his arm around you in an attempt to get comfortable, and struggling to quell the need building deep between your hips, you squirm.

Waiting a beat, you do it again.

“Come on now,” he scolds, impatience slipping into his tone. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s all we got. You need more room, or somethin’?”

That drawl of his is driving you crazy, just as arousing as the constant frown you know he has on his face right now. His sternness shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, and yet it constantly plagues you: is he always this stern? In every situation?

“No, I’m good,” you reply, letting out a sigh.

You’re really not, but in order for you to be okay, he’d have to be outside the sleeping bag, and so you try to still yourself again, focusing on the sounds of the night.

Weeks spent traveling together, it’s now a familiar background that often lulls you to sleep: the soft chirp of crickets, the rustling of leaves, the creaking of trees as they sway gently in the breeze. Up until now, you’d gotten away with sleeping separately on the ground but tonight marks the first truly cold one of the season and when he rolled out the single sleeping bag, you bit your lip.

“It’s a double,” he said gruffly, kneeling to spread it out. “Plus, it’s all we have.”

You knew it would be a tight fit, but this is unbearable.

His hand twitches, the heavy weight of it brushing just underneath your breasts and your nipples tighten into sensitive peaks underneath your layers. His hand is so close, you can’t help but imagine how it would feel if he slid it up just enough to touch you.

Taking another slow breath, you try not to move.

“You sure we can’t light a fire?” you ask.

“Now why am I gonna tell you no?” He sounds exasperated, a tone he uses more often than not with you.

The closeness of his mouth to your ear has his deep voice sending a shiver through your torso every time he speaks and needing him to be quiet if you’re going to survive this night, you don’t answer.

He lifts his knees, the front of his thighs coming in contact with the back of yours and the brush of his lap against your ass has you biting back a moan that almost crawls out of your throat. You fit the cradle of it perfectly, and if you really focus, you swear you can feel him through your layers of clothing.

With that image filling your mind, you try to press your thighs together in hopes of relieving the ache between them, but not only does the squirming ratchet the heat higher, it earns you another scold.

“You gotta stop.”

A slight plea to his words, his hand settles on your hip again, but this time his fingers accidentally brush the hem of your shirt up in his haste to stop you from moving and you bite your lip at the warm, dry heat of his palm on your bare skin. All sensation centers on that point of contact, and you feel a fresh wave of dampness creep into the crotch of your underwear.

“Sorry,” you apologize quietly.

Restless with want, arousal blooms through your system: starting slick and sticky between your thighs, it spreads low and heavy between your hips, travels with tingling heat through the tips of your breasts, and envelopes your head in a dazed cloud of need. You close your eyes, attempting to will it away, but it only makes all your other senses heighten.

You feel his presence even more: the weight of his arm around you, the damp heat of his mouth near the delicate skin of your neck, the sound of his breathing. Moving on their own accord, your hips shift again, connecting with his and he lets out a sigh.

“You sleepin’ on a rock, or somethin’?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow. Taking the space he’s left, you roll onto your back to face him and instant recognition registers on his face. He frowns, his stern expression causing another wave of sticky wetness to gather between your thighs.

“That why you’re so squirrelly?” The register of his voice has dropped lower, more intimate in the darkness yet no less forgiving. “If so, you’ll just have to deal with it later. You ain’t the only one who’s uncomfortable here.”

Your eyes drop down from his face to where you think his crotch must be, automatically seeking confirmation of his words as if you could actually see anything and his head tilts in silent reprimand at the action, his frown deepening.

“I told you no.”

He did. He said it weeks ago after you kissed him by the fire, again after you took his hands in yours and pressed them along your body in the saddle, again after you kissed him with urgency after a close call in the last town. Every one of those times he responded with his own need: blatant and wanting, all low groans and rough lips and hands and touches, until he pulled himself back.

“Wouldn’t be right,” he said.

“I’d be takin’ advantage of you,” he said.

Like you didn’t know your own body. Like you couldn’t make up your own mind.

He looks down at you for a long moment, the silence heavy between you in your wordless standoff and right when he’s about to lay back down, you speak.

“Please.”

You almost don’t recognize your voice with how helpless it sounds, breathless with need.

Dark eyes searching yours, they study your own for a weighted beat and the thing that’s been growing for weeks between your bodies pulls taut: a string, ready to snap.

You throb and ache, squirming next to him. So, so empty.

“If I do it, you’ll go to sleep?”

“I promise,” you hastily agree.

His jaw shifts under his sparse beard, his expression contemplative and then his eyes scan the darkness around you for a moment, making sure it’s all clear.

“Undo your pants.”

You’ve never obeyed a command faster in your life, already reaching under the covers to fumble with your belt. Your fingers trembling, his dark eyes drag down the parts of you he can see and his hand covers yours, stopping you.

“So needy.” The words are said to himself with a slight shake of his head that has you squirming again, and he pushes your hands out of the way, making room for his own. There is a weighted feel to them against your skin where his knuckles brush against your belly, his fingers working open the button of your jeans and you let out a shuddering breath, the liquid heat between your thighs flaring bright.

Jeans open for his access, he keeps his eyes on your face when he slowly slips his hand down the front of them, pushing beneath the band of your underwear. When his fingers find the damp, warm heat that greets him, a pained look crosses over his features.

“So fuckin’ wet, and I ain’t even hardly touched you yet.”

He is touching you, you want to argue, but the words are caught in your mouth when he slides his hold lower, his broad hand cupping you wholly between your legs. The thick tips of his fingers press heavily against your entrance, and you widen your legs to give him more room.

“Goddamn,” he breathes out, swallowing hard.

His middle finger dips into your slick seam, immediate wetness covering the digit before he drags it through your folds with a testing stroke and your back nearly arches off the ground, needing so much more yet not being able to breathe with what he is doing. He slips it inside you, just down to the second knuckle, and then he’s sliding his soaked finger up to your clit, finding it with ease.

Your hips jerk up to meet it, the calloused pad of his finger providing instant relief. Your head falls back, your throat straining with the effort to be quiet.

“Feels good, huh.”

There is a smugness to his tone that you think faintly should bother you, but it doesn’t. Instead, your body responds in a wholly different way, wanting nothing more to find out what else he seemingly already knows about how to make you feel good.

“Tell me, or I stop.”

The harsher tone of his words brings you back to the present, and you frantically nod, eager to obey.

“Yes. Yes, it feels good.” The roughed pad of his middle finger is swirling firm, neat circles just over your clit, the texture and intensity just right and when you answer him, he rewards you with a second finger. Arching your hips into it, your mouth drops open, a silent cry forming in your throat.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, his hooded eyes looking down at you.

His fingers speed up, quickly slipping down between your thighs to coat his fingers with arousal before bringing them back up again and your hands find his wrist beneath the sleeping bag, holding on while he swirls, swirls, swirls.

So wet you can hear it, you’re sticky and slick underneath his touch, and it’s almost clinical with how quickly he’s going to make you come. Your thighs starting to tremble, his dark eyes never leave your face and chasing his touch, you focus on the centered need he’s building deep within you.

Still so empty you could cry, your breasts tighten under your sweatshirt, and when you imagine how the cold air would feel on them paired with the contrast of his hot, wet mouth, you pull tight with your release, your hand tightening in its hold on his wrist.

“It’s –,” you beg him, “I’m so close.”

Your mouth slack as his thick, calloused fingers work, work, work, he dips his head, his mouth resting just beside your ear.

“Come on, honey. Just give it to me. I know you want to.”

The rough rasp of his voice is deep enough to pierce through the fog he’s built in your brain, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt to hold onto something as you start to tip over the edge. Right when you’re on the cusp, he slides his fingers lower and fills you swifty with three and the startled cry that breaks free from your throat doesn’t even hit the air before he covers your mouth with his.

He swallows every low moan, every hitch in your breathing, every hot puff of air you let out as he pumps his fingers to wring every last drop of release from your trembling body and even when he slides his fingers out, his mouth still doesn’t stop. Coated with your slick, his hand smears damp across your jaw as he presses you into place and takes, his tongue sliding hungrily against yours.

Your own taste is thick on your tongue when he pulls back, and breathless and spent, you’re finally blissfully pliant and loose beside him in the sleeping bag - but not for long.

Slipping his fingers into his mouth, you blink your damp eyelashes up at him as you watch him suck on them with a low, satisfied groan. The lewd action paired with the deep sound, his eyes are still on your face when he pulls them from his mouth to reach back down into the sleeping bag.

“Feel better?” he asks, and though you don’t even know how to begin to answer that question, you find yourself nodding anyway.

As if nothing happened, he grasps your jeans and gives them a perfunctory, swift tug, putting you back together. Lifting your hips in a daze, you let him.

Satisfied, he positions you on your side again, facing away from him and settling down behind you, he drags you tight to his chest with a thick arm banded around your waist.

A thick, solid heft is felt between the two of you, pressed against your ass and his usual gruff voice softens, but only just.

“Good. Now go to sleep.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut

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wandagcre · 1 year ago

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Sam’s Christmas kinks? pls 🥺

WARNING: temperature play, roleplay, use of gags, rope bondage, humiliation, spanking, face-sitting, overstimulation | 18+ men & minors dni.

you both didn't plan it really. or at least, you did not...

but it escalated to something frisky anyway! courtesy of sam doing the spanking and looking for miniscule excuses just so she can put you in her naughty list and spank you until your ass stings in mild pain and tender

at the couch, you're laying in your stomach at sam's lap. she softly ran her hand on your thighs up then your ass, hiking up your dress for tonight's celebration with your family

"know that song about 12 days of christmas? count 12 spanks for me, baby."

you miraculously pull through it and your ass hurts. sam only says 'treats come in later' but oh, you wanted to be fucked so bad. all you can think about while mingling is sam's touch...

sam knows all about it and was internally gloating at the thought. she's surely going to surprise you even more later

in theme for the christmas spirit, you have a nice and naughty gift boxes. nice contains something nonsexual, a thoughtful gift that moves your heart.

and naughty? contains an object for your bedroom activities – making your pussy twitch. you didn't think sam was into this — she gifted you a collar. it had her name and a bell right in the middle.

sam is super into the holiday spirit and she blew your mind how far she was willing to incorporate it in the bedroom!

"the bell? it's multipurpose, baby. it will help me know whether you moved when i strictly ordered you not to. and well... i also need to hear a reminder how exactly rough i'm fucking you with its relentless ringing along your screams."

safe to say you're soaked wet now at sam's teasing. you're hoping that you will survive this goddamn supposed wholesome gathering. you cannot wait to be railed by sam already as she deliciously elaborated.

"guess i am your gift," it was a silly get-up at first, but the glint of absolute delight in sam's eyes and her mouth agape as you presented the slutty santa claus outfit... it fueled the tension even more. it was so rewarding!

sam replaces the santa hat on top of your head with a reindeer headband. "there. much more fitting since i'm going to use you, riding you all night baby."

and sam doesn't stop there. she quipped, "thought you were my present. why don't i see a ribbon all over you?" and proceeds to tie you up with rope and a makeshift bow out of a ribbon she found lying somewhere else, placed on your mouth as a gag 😮‍💨

sam is so into it, you're laid down while you she makes you eat her out. riding your face until you feel all of her weight challenging your neck and mouth that is coated with her arousal 😵‍💫

she doesn't stop there, sam gets up and left you in confusion for few minutes. she comes back with a bowl of ice cubes, some aphrodisiac strawberries and teases you with it, trailing them over your now-shivering body

she didn't hear the bell make a sound. you stayed still as she wanted. "aw, my good girl barely moved?" you preened over the praise ;(

she targets your erogenous areas. she makes you eat some first but orders you to suck the strawberries before biting through them. then sam traces an ice cube on your neck and lower tummy

while tied up you can't do anything but squirm ahh ;( your brain is all fuzzy bc you wanted it to be over AND you didn't want to, at the same time

your nipples aren't safe either. the cold hitting you in such spot made you moan so loud and arch your back helplessly to which sam deviously chuckles at. it's so humiliating ;( but you wanted to be nice - a good girl for sam - so you refuse to complain, only whimpering in gratitude

sam takes a bite of the aphrodisiac strawberries too, removes the poorly made ribbon gag, and pulls you in for a rough kiss. the sweetness and distinct taste of sam that lingered in your tastebuds? both of you were so turned on and felt frenzied, sooo worked up

you're so turned on as sam wanted and you reason out how you have been nice and obedient. sam takes pity and finally takes care of your throbbing pussy.

"it's the giving season, after all. so, I won't stop fingering you until I think you had enough." you came for four times already and sam hasn't shown any signs of stopping just yet.

the collar on your neck won't stop ringing as she fingers you into oblivion 🤕 it was a rather moany christmas indeed ;)

#headcanons #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x fem reader #wlw #lesbian #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter imagines #requested

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detectivereads · 6 months ago

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Delicious in Dungeon vol 7 by Ryoko Kui

#$!@/5 (my heart was ripped out; the volume is great.)

This post is for fan entertainment, I’m not being paid.

This volume is thicc! Dungeon Meshi Thursday!!!!!!

Ok there is a lot of tension between Chilchuck and Izutsumi, I am hoping in the future they will get along better but for now I can see them butting heads more. But during the fight with the Ice Golem, they do know how to put their differences aside and work together to get the job done.

At first, I felt sorry for Izutsumi, they wanted to be change back to their normal form. Also, I was reading more in The Adventurer’s Bible, understanding their back story a bit more, and I was shocked on what I found out on the part of who placed the curse on Izutsumi. (I will do a separate post on The Adventurer’s Bible; I highly recommend the book.)

Izutsumi seems to have a hard life that leads to major trust issues and will only help if it benefits her and her goals. But she has the pallet of a child that refuses to try new things and will throw a fit if she doesn’t get what she wants.

It also makes me wonder what her life was when she was with Shuro’s group, I mean we do see Izutsumi and the other ladies interact and it does seem that Izutsumi pushes stuff she doesn’t want to do/want on too Tade (even though when Tade fell off the roof, no one asked her to go up and do that chore, she just wanted to be useful.)

Now some of the middle chapters, I am now greatly worried about the group The Canaries. This group seems to have an impressive resume that even Kabru knows and has deeply affected him.

This whole group is elves, and from previous volumes they are looking for the secret of eternal life. That it seems that elves take over dungeons when they get out of hand, and from what Tansu has said that the elves want this dungeon back.

When I got the village part of the volume, I was surprised to see how a village managed to survive in this dungeon for so long. (I know that it’s Sissel magic that is keeping them alive.) But I pity them when they just farm to farm and do not really enjoy the product of their work. Like their sense of taste is so dull and with magic they have no reason to eat.

(Good lord if I couldn’t taste food I would be devastated, I love food and seeing something that you love like sushi or pizza and not being able to taste the cheese sauce and crust and spices, I would be beyond depressed.)

With that aside, these chapters we got a lot of information about Sissel, how he came to Degal kingdom, how he got into magic. How dedicated he is to try to find King Degal.

When Laois’s group got into the village, we meet Yaad, the grandson of King Degal and he is ruling the village they are in currently. Ever since Degal left for the surface, there has been a rift between the surviving Degal family and Sissel.

Yaad explains a prophecy about a person with a winged sword who would come and stop the mad mage and become the ruler of the dungeon. However, they need the help of a winged lion (that is their god that Degal’s people worshipped). But, Sissel has it locked away in the lower levels of the dungeon.

So, Laois has a choice to make.

At end of this chapter after Yaad helps the group leave, we see Sissel asking in a very scary way who was Yaad talking too.

This part makes me worried for Yaad.

The last chapters of the book…. *cue hysterical crying* POOOR SENSHI!!!!!!!!!!!! *uncontrollable sobbing* Oh lord his back story!!! His fear!!!! My god this must have tortured him for so long!!!!

You never see Senshi cry!!!!

Now (*Dries tears*) I do have some conflicted feelings with Laois in this chapter.

I can see where he is coming from, (and maybe its just me being overprotective of Senshi) but when discussing the death of Senshi’s old group, I do wish both Chilchuck and Laois exercised some tact, like talking in private out of ear shot of Senshi.

Laois is thinking is hard to follow sometimes, let’s eat the griffin and see if it tasted like the one from your past, if does yay you didn’t eat your teammates or oh no this doesn’t taste like that meal so that means I ate a team-mate.

However, I did like what Chilchuck said to Laois, that he really needs to stop. This was what I was talking about in my last post with Shuro and communication skills.

Chilchuck has good communication skills, he will not hesitate to call Laois on things that are delicate.

Though when re-reading the chapter again, I am glad that Senshi had such a great teammate to put Senshi who was at the time the youngest in the group.

DON’T MAKE SENSHI CRY!!!!!!! My poor heart can’t take it!!!!!!!!

#book review #books recommendations #fantasy #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi thursday #laois touden #marcille donato #shuro dungeon meshi #izutsumi #chilchuck #senshi of izganda #kabru of utaya #the canaries #sissel

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nitrateglow · 1 year ago

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Thoughts on Five Miles to Midnight (1962)

Movies like this are why I don't take critics seriously. I really enjoyed this one so much more than I expected. It's not a perfect movie-- I found myself wishing Hitchcock had directed it instead-- but it's a deliciously dark psychological thriller.

Sophia Loren and Anthony Perkins are Lisa and Bob, a married couple living in Paris. Bob is a possessive, emotionally unstable jerk. Lisa can't handle the abuse anymore and wants a divorce, but Bob refuses. When Bob takes a flight to Casablanca, the plane crashes midway, reportedly leaving no survivors.

Before Lisa can feel liberated, Bob returns to their apartment days later, bloodied and bruised. Turns out he survived, but he doesn't want her to tell anyone because his life insurance policy will make the two of them rich beyond their wildest dreams. Lisa just wants Bob out of her life, so the two make a deal: Lisa will hide Bob in her apartment while going through the process of collecting the money and then Bob will start a new life elsewhere, never darkening her doorstep again.

Several factors complicate this simple plan: a nosy kid peeking into the apartment from across the street, a sleazy neighbor hoping to put the moves on the now available Lisa, Bob's aggressive sexual jealousy towards his repulsed wife, and Lisa being at her wits' end as her husband tries to convince her to stay with him despite everything.

I was fascinated by the two main characters in this movie. Bob is a narcissist of the highest order and Lisa is vulnerable but manipulative in her own way (we learn she mainly married Bob to escape a bad situation, a truth which makes Bob bitter). Their messy marital drama blended well with the crime element, giving the film the grim vibe of noir.

My only issue is that some of the suspense scenes could have used a surer hand and more tension. I really think Hitchcock would have done a great job with this story. However, as it is, the performances are good and the story kept my interest. I don't get why it's considered such a dud. Maybe it's because none of the characters are super sympathetic? I don't care-- they were INTERESTING and Lisa was sympathetic enough for all her faults, so I was invested.

Also, I love Perkins' sunglasses and leather gloves look. What an aesthetic!

#five miles to midnight #thoughts #anthony perkins #sophia loren #gig young #anatole litvak #thriller

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roosterbox · 6 months ago

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A Quiet Place Day One “Review”

Okay, so

Such a good movie! I’m putting the rest of this under a cut, just in case. Spoilers ahead!

The EMOTIONS. Hell, MY EMOTIONS. I fucking cried, man. These characters were incredible. I wish Hospice Nurse guy could have lived, but yeah. I figured he was toast, mainly because I know how these story beats work, but also because the hype was focused on Lupita and Joseph. Which… fucking fair. They were both amazing.

Joseph, baby boy 🥺😭😭

I can’t fault Eric even a little bit; if I was in his shoes, I would have reacted the EXACT same way. World goes crazy? Find the nearest adult and follow them around like a scared puppy. Especially if they’re a cat person. Probably would have asked to hold her hand too, but he was slightly braver than me, lol. I mean, if I’m truly the only competent adult present, I can try my best to pull everything together, but generally? Terrified little bunny, no good in a true crisis.

Also, she gives him her sweater. IT WAS HER DAD’S SWEATER. That’s when the tears started pouring, lol. And ERIC LIVED, holy shit. I won’t lie, I was pretty convinced that he wouldn’t. Just because it’s typically my luck, to have my favorite character die. And I knew going in that he would be my favorite, by virtue of being played by my boi. Also, Joseph is an incredible onscreen crier, damn. Every time he gets emotional, I do too. Please someone protect that sweet boy 🥺😭

Schnitzel is an incredible cat actor - no cat I’ve ever known would have put up with any of this, lmao. I figured he would survive too. Not just because we got that (very spoilery) shot a few days ago of Joseph in the yellow sweater, holding the cat, obviously from the ending (which also spoiled that Eric would probably live too, of course). No, I didn’t think they would kill the cat just on a hunch. Despite the first movie being very famous for killing a child in the opening scene, I knew in my heart that Frodo was safe.

I want to see so much more of these characters, even though Sam was obviously doomed, if not from the creatures than from her illness. But Eric and Frodo though… Part of me says “No! *whacks hand with a ruler* Leave it!” But still… I don’t want to leave them yet.

My only real criticism is that, for a horror movie, I didn’t find it all that scary. Maybe it’s just the premise in general that doesn’t scare me that much. If I eventually watch the other two movies and don’t find them scary either, I’ll know that’s the case. Not a dig against John Krasinski or anyone else who wrote/created it, but it’s hard to truly scare me with horror movies anymore - I’m too much of an old hat at this. Good tension and build up though! That scene with Eric and Frodo in the sort of nest-like area? Damn, son. Good stuff.

Overall, absolutely great film. Lupita and Joseph are amazing, and have superb chemistry, and I hope they do more films together eventually. Schnitzel is a good boy and deserves many, many delicious cat treats. And, thankfully, you don’t need to have seen the other two movies to understand what’s happening. That was a slight concern of mine, lol.

8/10

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thedestructionofgrace · 2 years ago

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Tlou ep7 spoilers:

(I’ve referred to bella as they/them in this post)

To all those who doubted Bella Ramseys portrayal of Ellie before the show even fucking aired, I sincerely hope you have the maturity to admit that you were fucking wrong. Not only did you doubt Bella but you also doubted Neil druckmann (the creator) AND Ashley Johnson (OG Ellie) when they gave their approval of bella and their performance. There is no other word than outstanding to describe bella, their acting was spot on in this episode, it has been in the other episodes too but this one… this one right here I mean they gave us everything, the little side glances, the smiles, the admiration and love towards Riley was just amazing. All those little details and bella didn’t drop the ball once, throughout the entire episode you could see feel every emotion that ellie was feeling and aw man Rahul kohli put it best, “Bella Ramsey is one of the most talented and exciting actors emerging from the next generation”.

While Pedro had like five minutes in this episode he too was amazing, Joel demanding ellie to leave, find Tommy and pushing her away, absolutely fucking gut wrenching, and his face when he realised she never left him 😫😫😫

Storm Reid, bloody hell, again the casting in this show is fucking delicious, like I don’t know how else to describe it. They just don’t get it wrong. Her Riley was great, and even though (any who’s played the game) we know what’s coming for her character, she still delivered this absolutely heart breaking performance, when she notices Ellie’s bite, then lifts her own hand!!!!! I wanted to cry so bad. Storm and Bella did not miss at all and their sapphic tension was so beautiful and I love that it wasn’t shyed away from in the show, I hope they both get recognition and awards because that is the least they deserve.

This episode had some of they most beautiful shots and the lighting was to die for, cinematically it was just gorgeous. When the mall lights came on and it cut to Ellie and her reaction 🤌🏼 I’m sure we all had the same look on our face while watching it. The shot when the two were playing in the arcade and it pans to the runner/clicker, like I was DONE!! even if you hadn’t played the game, you just fucking knew what it meant and you’re left with dread for the rest of the episode, you’re on the edge of your seat waiting for it all to go wrong and it finally comes and your feeling defeated. You’ve just watched two kids share there first kiss only for them to be sent to their doom within the next few minutes, only for us to know that ellie survived and Riley didn’t. I played left behind when I was 14 just like ellie, I’m now 21 and I got thrown back 7 years ago to my teenage self and I remember feeling so fucking mad and upset for her, all the same emotions came back tonight as I sat and watched this episode, it doesn’t matter that I already knew what was going to happen because Bella and Storm have just elevated this story to a whole other level with their acting ability and no one, no one could have done a better job than those two

The shot of Ellie holding Joel’s hand, their hands curled around eachother, oh my gosh, I know there are people who don’t think that the show can give us anything more than what the game already has but it is fucking giving, it’s giving us all those extra details and insights to all the relationships that are formed and forming that we never got in the game. I mentioned this in my previous post regarding ep 6 but we get more background on Maria,her baby, her job, her marriage and pregnancy. Joel and him being a contractor, and having panic attacks and nightmares, the jokes and the glances between ellie and Joel and ellie and Riley, there’s just so many little things that give us so much more context and understanding and so many more things to love about these characters that we’ve already loved for so many years. and I just cant describe how much I appreciate it, I’m totally rambling at this point but I can’t stop.

Small points I want to shout out:

Mortal kombat!!!!

The clown and wolf mask

Ellie and Riley talking about lingerie 😂

The jumping between rooftops, I would’ve fucking loved to do that as a teenager

Ellie having to stitch Joel up, I’m not really squeamish but I did feel my face scrunch when I watched it

Ellie’s little smile then instant apology after kissing Riley 😫 “for what” 😭

When the dead body fell through the floor, not gonna lie it made me jump a lil, thought it was gonna come alive for a second,

Them stealing alcohol off a dead body 😂 like that’s fucked up

The photo both scene, aw man I wish the photos printed better for them 😢

Just Ellie being fucking gay, every smile or look towards Riley, especially on the carousel, like girl you’re so fucking in love

I like how we got to see how Ellie ended up in the fight at the start

The purple lighting in the arcade was gorgeous as well as the carousel 💜😍

Take on me!!! Who doesn’t love foreshadowing? This song is playing while Ellie is with the first girl she’s in love with, Joel’s gonna teach her how to play it on guitar at some point and then one day she’s gonna sing it to Dina, my heart can’t take this it’s too much!!! 😭😭

Um Ellie and Riley’s lol dance scene together was so fucking cute

My eyes fucking widened and my jaw dropped when I saw those bombs on the shelf!!! Like Marlene why are you letting this kid handle home made bombs??!!

THE GAP

I keep forgetting how much Ellie doesn’t know about the world before, first when she’s in the car for the first time, then the escalators then her Riley not knowing about screenshots lol, it’s really freaking adorable. Electric stairs.

Also did Riley say she is almost 17? That kinda threw me a lil bit

If I got assigned to sewage detail I would run away too

I don’t know why but when captain kwong said to Ellie that he sees a leader in her i thought it was interesting

The naughty dog logo!!! The paw on the keys kwong has on his desk

Dawn of the wolf

Those freaking dolls in the doll store where the infected was, that was actually really creepy to me

This entire episode was just so well done, beautiful shots, lighting, music, cast, and Bella and Ellie were fucking phenomenal, I can’t wait til we get to the next episode, also kinda scared too cos we know what’s coming

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fortifice · 7 months ago

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An unconventional relationship leaves a lot of space for unanswered questions. Such things that might be more basic for even a friend to ask that of another, but even the Fool wouldn't necessarily say that they are friends. Such a bond would suggest trust && care well beyond what the mercenary has begrudgingly handed out. As he once uttered while pressed against damp skin, a pool of water with ripples that might have matched that of his racing heart — Sampo wants to trust Gepard.

Delicate matters of the heart aside, spoils are somewhat easier as his fixated avarice has little to do with the tangible rewards. He can part with his earnings under the right circumstances, && in this case he's gone ahead && purchased some flowers for a special occasion he was never properly informed of. For the Landau's birthday, Sampo acquired a bouquet of flowers. While he knows that Gepard struggles with the ones he keeps within the apartment, these are for the fleeting joy of existence. The type of Elation that will undoubtedly grace a smile upon a loved one's visage. After all, the particular picks in this arrangement tie in with romance && celebration. Or so he'd been told after struggling with picking any out. Being familiar with roses, the red petals would've been too obvious a choice, so he went with an expert's opinion. Even he could dare to bruise his own ego in hopes that it might speak to one of his lover's interest.

This is placed beside a homemade cake on Gepard's dining table. A cake that was crafted by Sampo in this very kitchen. Sampo's hands were outstretched as he gestured openly towards the gifts, guard's heavy footfalls filling the abode. Sweetness of the moment is interrupted by the Fool spinning on his heel to ensure that the oven itself is no longer heated && focusing back upon Gepard. His bare hands resting on the back of the nearest chair. ❝ Happy birthday, Gep~ ! Did you really think I wouldn't have figured it out ? ❞ Out of all the people in Belobog to know, Sampo's newfound knowledge came as the result of snooping in papers && files he shouldn't have been. The Captain of the Silvermane Guard needn't know such details, what Sampo would like to express in the moment is appreciation && thoughtfulness... Even if the notion of belonging is still quite fuzzy to the two.

It wasn’t imparted for how much time had passed since his birthday had commemorated anything other than his abundant accolades & survival against the conflict that remained unrelenting. upon the advent of a text from Serval, buoyant & pervaded with excessive exclamation marks, a revelation dawned upon him. under the sempiternal gaze of falling snow another year was affixed to his uniform, as if it were an aureate emblem commending him, lacking the warmth that may only dwell in the lives of those who did not walk the path he had. where once vestiges of hope had resided, that they could all return to their family’s estate and celebrate together, was the irrefutable knowledge that the tension that desiccated the roots of that noble family would not accommodate such a gathering. His gratitude comes in the form of a concise reply & a sticker to diminish the severity of his contrasting punctuation, a subtle smile that lasts only for a breath as he tucks it back into his pocket.

What he had not anticipated as he arrived home, easing out of his boots, not wanting to trek icy mire across the floor, was the aroma of something delicious baking. It took him a moment to discern and then rationalize the source, gloved fingers becoming inert between tugging off one boot then regarding the next with exhausted exasperation. his nonplussed gaze followed the stream of wan light that unfurled from his kitchen to its origins, prying his leg free from the boot’s vice and quietly padding up the hall, dubiety in the slight furrow of his brow, the searching sweep of his gaze. As the familiar sights of his kitchen come into view he should be relieved but the emotion he feels in its place is debilitating, his steps hesitate. For how frequently they shared that space should Sampo’s presence not be similarly familiar, yet, his eyes widened a little, the flutter of golden lashes incredulous. The scene before him played at a stagnant pace, as if his mind were justifying it, seeking reason where it was not necessarily needed. stepping into the room is like being plunged into a pleasant dream, the closer he ventured the more prominent the delectable aroma became, his gaze hitching on the meticulously arranged bouquet, the delicate & diaphanous petals of ball peonies. if the raucous hammering of his heart were any louder he’s certain the other would have heard it from across the room.

“ you did ━ all of this ?” disbelief, not because he harboured doubt but because the immensity of it felt so surreal. the other’s contagious, languorous grin holds him captive for a moment. “ for my birthday ?” as if it were baffling & he was still unravelling it. As he turns to the oven, scrutinizing it as if it may still be cooking in his absence, Gepard closes the distance between them in short, brisk strides. Sampo turned back to him, lithe fingers reposing atop the arch of one of the kitchen chairs, Gepard’s reach for him, gloved fingers grazing along his jaw, kissing him on the mouth to silence his blithe greeting. the kiss is long, tender, caressing the keen line of his jaw, only when his lungs sear with denied breath does he withdraw, his eyes searching. “ How did you ..” impossibility seemed an abstract concept in the hands of one as enigmatic as belobog’s resident mercenary. his expression was soft, inexplicably so. “ do I want to know ?” but it was uttered upon a breath that held within it the impression of laughter.

#six weeks later <3 #。 ‧͙*̩̩❆ ✧ in character ‚ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʷⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ﹐ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢᵏ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ / ᵃˢᵏˢ #dupliciti #he will not kill these flowers he wont he wont he ━

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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

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The Match - Part 6

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You deal with the aftermath of your decision.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: There’s a little bit of smut in here, not too filthy though I guess???

A/N: VOILA NO ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER, only tension teehee anyway I hope this doesn’t disappoint and I am looking forward to seeing everyone’s rage about this part lmfaoooo

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

The last time you lost sleep was back in your days at the university, when you were working on your thesis. And that was years ago so now that you were wide awake at two in the fucking morning, it was frustrating you.

What was even more frustrating was the fact that you were up because of a guy, and not just any guy— Bucky Barnes.

You didn't know whether you made the right decision of rejecting him like that, without even giving the relationship a damn chance. But you were right, weren't you? That making it official with courtship was going to make your corporate life a living hell.

Perhaps you were overthinking?

You groaned out loud and sat up on your bed, grabbing your phone from the night stand and opening up your messaging app.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean those things that I said.

Delete, delete, delete.

Can we talk again?

Delete, delete, delete.

I already miss you.

"Really, now?" you chuckled to yourself, albeit sarcastically.

When did you ever chase a guy? Never in you entire life did you put your walls down for a fucking guy. What would make Bucky an exception? Sure, he was rich as fuck and handsome as hell but those wouldn't give him an immunity from your pride.

Throwing your phone under your pillow, you decided to stand by your verdict about keeping things professional between you and Bucky.

The universe seemed to hate you because aside from losing sleep, you also forgot to set your alarms and now you were running late for the mancom meeting. You really had to confront Bucky like that a day before the meeting, huh?

By the time you reached the conference room, the meeting was already in progress. Heads turned to you upon your arrival, the entire room silent as you whispered your apologies. When you looked around, you realized that the only seat available was the one next to Bucky.

Great, just great!

You could feel his eyes on you as you carefully made your way towards him, mumbling another apology for your tardiness before sitting down. You knew how much Bucky hated it when people were late, whether for a meeting or for a rendezvous. The last time you were late, he denied you of your orgasm when he fingered you in his car.

Was he thinking of the same thing now? If not for last night's discussion, you would probably be bent down on his desk by lunch time. You cleared your throat and squeezed your legs uncomfortably, a gesture that Bucky noticed right off the bat.

You crossed your legs and focused your attention on the presentation until you noticed what Bucky was doing beside you. You tried to be discreet when you checked him out through your peripheral vision; he was leaning back against his seat with his legs wide apart. He seemed to be paying attention to the presentation but then he started stroking his chin in a certain way that made you remember all the times he did that whenever he had his eyes on you.

"Mister Barnes? What do you think about this suggestion?" the head of operations asked.

Bucky hummed lowly as he stroked his lower lip, nodding his head in approval before saying in a rough voice, "I like it."

"I like it."

"Like what?" you asked innocently, lifting a curious brow at Bucky when you entered his office one night in a tight fitting skirt with a slit that showed off the garter of your stockings.

You knew that it was going to drive Bucky insane if you walked around the office wearing something so teasing like that. To hell with the HR, you actually received a memo for wearing such at a workplace but whatever. The reward from Bucky would surely be more than enough to make this decision worth it.

"Playing coy now, are we?" Bucky asked, standing up from his seat and then walking over to you.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bucky." you teased.

Bucky smirked and kept his eyes on you when he knelt down in front of you, his rough palms sliding against the skin of your thighs before tugging at the edge of your stockings.

"I'll show you what I'm talking about." he said before he bunched up your skirt, licking a stripe against your lace-clad pussy.

You exhaled heavily at the memory and shook your head. Fuck no, you weren't going to give in! You weren't even sure whether Bucky was intentionally teasing you. Nope, definitely not giving in so easily.

You survived the entire day, despite being on the receiving end of Bucky's subtle teasing. That motherfucker was testing you alright, you were damn sure of it. He really went to the pantry during lunch, when you were washing your mug at the sink. And he had the audacity to stand behind you, pretending to be reaching for something from the cupboards.

Janet the snitch was there too! Thank fuck she was preoccupied with her salad and didn't notice when Bucky pressed his crotch against your ass, his breath fanning against your neck when he whispered "Excuse me." in that delicious, rough voice of his.

Thinking that you were finally free to head home, you started gathering your things until you received an e-mail from none other than Bucky. It was a little past seven in the evening already and you've submitted all your reports earlier. What does he want now?

Come see me in my office. Now.

Regards, Bucky Barnes

A surge of electricity coursed through your veins, your entire body going cold and you weren't sure whether you should be nervous or excited. Or aroused, even. You weren't going to lie but you sort of hoped that his e-mail contained another dick pic again, something to let you know that everything was fine between the two of you.

Who were you kidding though, you were the one who asked for this set-up.

You adjusted your skirt and went straight to the elevator, counting the seconds until it reached Bucky's floor. Every step you took towards his office felt heavier and heavier as you neared his door. What does he want?! You couldn't think of anything that he needed to talk to you about.

"Shit. Okay, bitch you got this." you mumbled to yourself before knocking.

Bucky didn't even tell you to come in, he just opened the door and left it ajar as he went back to his seat behind his desk. He seemed agitated but god did he look good. You really needed to get a grip of yourself.

"You need anything, Mister Barnes?" it felt strange to address him like that.

He heaved out a sigh and shrugged, "I'm very disappointed in this report." he said, slamming the folder on top of his desk before looking up at you.

"I don't understand. I followed every instruction and even included charts to make it easier to understand." you explained, slightly offended that he was questioning your hard work.

You worked hard on that report, and he knew how much. Was he power tripping you now?

"That's the thing, you followed every instruction. Sometimes you have to make certain changes, that doesn't mean it's automatically wrong as long as the outcome is the same." Bucky explained.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was insinuating something and you knew exactly what it was. You preferred not to focus on it and straightened up, trying to play it cool.

"I don't get it." you shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest.

Bucky heaved out sigh, "Come take a look. I'll show you where you went wrong." he said, raising his eyebrow at you, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

Oh no. Oh fucking no. He was giving you the look. You tried not to falter and maintained your professional behavior. Slowly, you walked around his desk until you stood beside him.

"See this part? Too detailed, I don't need to know about this. I just want to see the results." Bucky explained casually.

"Another thing is the graph you made. It's good, but again, too many details. You see this?" Bucky asked, glancing up at you.

You squinted your eyes, not wanting to stand too close to Bucky. Even from where you were, his perfume was invading your senses. It reminded you of all the times that scent was all that you could smell, especially whenever Bucky was on top of you, fucking your brains out. Or whenever he took you from behind, his face buried into your neck and—

"Are you listening?" Bucky asked.

You cleared your throat, "Yes." you immediately responded.

"Here, take a look at what I'm talking about." Bucky said, casually placing a hand on the small of your back as you bent down to look at your report closely.

It's as if everything happened so fast. You were trying to see what Bucky was talking about when you heard his chair screech against the floor, followed by his strong hands gripping your waist, pulling you down to sit on his lap.

You gasped out loud when you felt his hard cock against your ass. A slight whimper slipped past your lips when Bucky slightly moved, thrusting his hips upward while his hands on your waist kept you still.

"Bucky, fuck I..." you panted.

And then suddenly, the contact was gone and Bucky was pulling you away from him as he stood up. A shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he feigned innocence.

"I'm sorry, I totally forgot. We're supposed to be professional now. That's what you wanted, right?" he asked mockingly, shaking his head and then fixing his suit.

You stood there, gawking at him incredulously at the stunt that he just pulled on you. Did he really just...?

What the fuck?

"Anyway, I want the revised report by my table end of the day tomorrow." he said oh so casually, as if he didn't just pull you down to sit on his fucking lap while he had a damn erection.

He sat back down and continued with his shit as you stood there, disappointed (at yourself actually) and just feeling like a fucking fool.

"I can't believe you just did that." you softly said, turning around to leave.

"Just say you want me and this will all be over." Bucky said.

You looked back at him with a scowl and saw how smug he was staring at you. His lips curled up into a grin, eyes glinting with mischief. You wanted to kiss that fucking smirk off his face, maybe sit on it and ride it until he's out breath, until the skin on your inner thighs burned from how his scruff was scratching against it.

But again, you were too proud to do that.

"Thank you, Mister Barnes. I'll see you tomorrow."

What do you call it when a girl is left high and dry? Is there a female version for having blue balls? You needed to know because that was something you've been going through for two weeks now.

Two fucking weeks.

Since that night in Bucky's office, things have gotten worse for you. Bucky wanted you to give in first and damn, he was giving it his fucking all when it comes to making you cave. The man even texted you a shirtless photo of him at the gym. By accident, he said.

And here you thought that the both of you were going to be professional moving forward.

Bucky always teased you whenever he could, made sure that you'd be reminded of the times you spent together. Whether it was with how he spoke or looked at you, he was subtle but he went all out. One time during a meeting, Bucky started to play with his fucking mouse. His middle finger doing things to his scroll wheel, moving back and forth all the while he was staring at you with a sleazy grin.

As if you needed any more reminder how much his fingers felt so much better against your cunt as compared to your own.

Friday came quickly and you couldn't be more grateful for it. It had been very busy at the office and Bucky was edging you even without having the need to touch you. You needed a break from him, needed some time to yourself and rethink about the certain decisions you made.

You stood by the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor when Mark approached you.

"Been a hectic week huh?" he asked, adjusting the strap of his laptop bag on his shoulder.

You sighed, "Very hectic, thank goodness the week is over." you said with a chuckle.

"Any plans for the night?" Mark asked, turning to you.

You shook your head, "Not really. You?"

Mark smiled widely at you, "No plans either. But I do remember you owe me a night at the bar." he reminded you.

You mentally facepalmed because fuck, you totally forgot about that. Mark wasn't so bad actually, he was kind and seemed like a lot of fun to hang out with. You just...you just weren't attractive to him.

Maybe you should give it a try? Just to keep your mind off of Bucky even for a while. That man was driving you insane, honestly.

"Of course, yeah. I remember." you said with an awkward laugh.

"Do you want to go tonight?" he asked at the same time the elevator doors opened.

Lo and behold, Bucky Barnes was inside as well. Fucking hell.

"Mister Barnes." Mark greeted him before gesturing for you to step inside first.

You saw the look that Bucky gave both you and Mark. Suddenly, hanging out with Mark didn't seem like a good idea anymore. You prayed that Mark wouldn't bring it up anymore, at least, while Bucky was inside the elevator.

It felt like you were being ushered into the pits of hell when you stepped inside. Even with Mark's presence, you felt nervous being around Bucky. God knows what this man could do when provoked.

"Anyway, how about tonight?" Mark repeated his question, much to your dismay.

Bucky was standing behind the both of you and yet you could feel his eyes digging holes against the back of your head. He was waiting for your response.

"Come on, you promised me a date." Mark just had to imply.

Bucky coughed and Mark turned to him all of a sudden, "You ever been to the bar down the block, Mister Barnes?" he asked.

"Yes." Bucky curtly responded.

"They serve the best drinks, right? So come on, let me take you there. You won't regret it. What do you think, Mister Barnes?"

Mister Barnes will fucking whoop your ass, Mark, you thought to yourself. You suddenly started sweating bullets, feeling your armpits dampen beneath your blouse because jesus christ, was this really happening? You just wanted for the ground to swallow you up. Should you pretend to faint instead? Just to get out of this awkward situation?

"Yeah, a promise is a promise. Why don't you let Mike take you out tonight?" Bucky said, stepping in between you and Mark.

Mark made a face, "It's actually Mark, Mister Barnes."

Bucky though, kept his attention on you. His expression unreadable but his jaw was tensed. You were so fucked. And not in a good way. He was trying so hard to stay calm but when you glanced down, his hands were balled into fists.

"What do you say to that date with Martin?" Bucky asked again.

Mark lifted a finger, "Mark." he chimed in again.

"Yeah, whatever Michael." Bucky waved him off with his hand before turning back to you. "So, what do you say?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked past Bucky's shoulder to check on Mark, he didn't seem suspicious though. He looked hopeful, actually. But you pitied him because he just made it to Bucky's list of employees to keep an eye on. Aside from Janet, of course.

"I...um..." Fuck it.

"Yeah, okay. A date it is then." you awkwardly said, forcing out the driest laugh you ever produced in your entire life.

Mark excitedly pumped his fist in the air, "Great! Thank you, Mister Barnes. Guess she just needed a little push." he said.

Bucky feigned a smile and nodded, taking a step back from you. "A little push. Yeah, I guess so."

Finally, the elevators reached the ground floor and you were ready to sprint out of it when Bucky said his parting words.

"You enjoy your date with Marty now. Totally nothing unprofessional about dating a co-worker." Bucky told you and before the elevator doors closed, you saw the scowl that appeared on his face.

Shit.

"Mister Barnes is acting weird, don't you think?" Mark asked as the both of you walked out of the building.

You forced a smile and walked ahead of Mark, "Definitely not weird. You know what? I badly need a drink or two, an entire bottle of tequila maybe so let's just go now."

As if on cue, your phone buzzed and the message that showed up made you want to stop in the middle of the street, lay down on your back and await your demise.

You're playing a dangerous game. Well, two can play at that.

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @suchababie @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun @iloveshawnieboi @learisa @borikenlove @scarlet-natasha89

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky

#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

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forcefulkitten · 4 years ago

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bare my burden

[illumi zoldyck x fem! reader]

summary: feeling powerless and out of control due to his mission not going as planned, Illumi makes you feel the same way.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, rough sex, deepthroating, face-fucking

word count: 1,956

It had been a week since your husband, Illumi Zoldyck, left the estate to complete a mission. He said he’d be back two days ago, and he wasn’t back yet. Punctual as he is, he normally arrived before he estimated. You liked to lie to yourself by thinking he did this to surprise you by his early arrival, but you know that he actually used his timeframes as a deadline and made sure to complete things before then.

The weather out was gloomy on this evening.. Storm clouds filled the sky and heavy rain fell right onto the buds of the beautiful flowers in the Zoldyck Estate. It was always such a sight to see. You had just finished taking a relaxing bath, enjoying a cup of tea and were laying down under your warm comforter when you heard a familiar knock at the door. This knock was Illumi for sure, his signature way to let you know it was him and not one of the butlers. As unapologetic as he was, he always made sure to knock before entering. Two days after his predicted arrival, you were thrilled to finally have him back after missing him and being so worried that things had gone awry.

“Illumi~.” You sang in a tired voice when you heard your door open. Turning around to face him while laying in your bed, your eyes followed his muscular build walk straight into the bathroom as he closed the door behind himself. You thought nothing of this since Illumi loved to jump straight into the shower after he returned from a mission. As you lifted the comforter off your legs, you heard the bathroom door lock. ‘That’s weird’ you thought to yourself. Illumi never locked the bathroom door, since you two always showered together upon his return from a mission. It was routine that you’d jump in and help him clean off and unwind. You then heard the shower water start, and decided to lay back down. He was 2 days late and locked the door behind him, perhaps he needed some time alone. The sound of heavy rain hitting the windows, the warm comforter over you and the subconscious protected feeling of having Illumi back home quickly lulled you to sleep.

“Get up, Y/N.”

“Wake up. It’s too early to fall asleep for the night right now.”

“Y/N.”

You were woken up after hearing Illumi speaking sternly beside you and feeling his grip on your arm shaking you back into reality. You sat up rubbing your eyes and looking over at the time. It had only been an hour since you’d fell asleep and were grumbling that Illumi wouldn’t allow you some rest especially since he needed some as well.

“Illu.. I missed you. You were gone longer than you predicted. Did everything go as planned?” Finally opening your eyes completely and meeting Illumi’s glare, you took note of the scowl on his face. His glare was colder than normal, and if looks could kill then you’d be dead. This could’ve meant a million different things but you assumed it was regarding his mission and attempted to slice the tension in the room by leaning over to kiss Illumi. He leaned back and grabbed you by your chin. “No. It didn’t. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Illumi’s tone was sharp and full of annoyance. He knew that you could pick up on his moods and were always analyzing him to figure things out because the nature of his personality. It was going to be a long, merciless night. Illumi rarely became stressed out about his job. Years of torture masked as “training” subjected him to so many different scenarios that the man could quite possibly survive and endure anything. But when he felt powerless or out of control, you were the one person who felt that wrath while things were temporarily out of his reach. Illumi would always be sure to complete the job even if he has to restrategize, but not before subjecting you to the same feeling he has at the moment.

Illumi leaned back against the headboard and sighed. You crawled over and onto his lap, looking into his eyes that could burn a hole in hell if he wanted to. You wished he would melt into your touch but his frustration engulfed his tense body just like your desire to help him feel better. You fell into his hands so easily all the time, making it your number one responsibility to always ease Illumi into feeling like the human he never got a chance to be. You began to straddle his waist and wrapped your arms around Illumi’s shoulders, leaning your breasts against his chiseled chest. Threading your fingers through his hair while kissing and licking his neck, Illumi didn't give in to your ministrations. “Y/N,” Illumi spoke out, voice void of any emotion like usual and you leaned off of him to meet his gaze. He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your lips into a harsh, needy kiss which made you moan out at the unexpected force. His tongue delved into your mouth aggressively, tongues dancing and heavy breaths eliciting from you that filled the previously strained room with lust. Illumi’s free hands grabbed your ass, playing with your cheeks before spreading them and bringing his hand to your already soaked pussy. He swiped at your wetness and brought his deft fingers to play with your clit. His fingers swirling perfectly, the coil in your stomach began to build while you moaned his name out desperately. Your hips grinded harder against his hand and you leaned in to make out with him, needing something to ground you from your growing orgasm. A few more ruts onto his hardened cock, swollen lips fighting each other and his fingers precisely rubbing your swollen bud made your orgasm hit quicker than you hoped and you rode out your high as much as Illumi allowed.

Your face was flushed, mind clouded and full of desperation for him to make love to you but you were snapped back into reality when he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up while scooting himself off the bed. He took his briefs off, long slender cock springing out while you positioned yourself on your knees. When he looked down at you it was with dangerous eyes. You knew the pleasure you felt previously was only a build up for whatever merciless fuck he wanted to put you through right after he used your throat.

You began swirling your tongue around the tip of his length before attempting to take him in fully. Illumi’s cock is big, and you always had to focus on not hitting the back of your throat too quick. Before you could even bring Illumi’s sex fully into your mouth, he weaved his fingers in your hair and began bucking his hips into your mouth. Drool spilled out the sides while you’re focusing your breathing through your nose & bobbing your head back and forth. Low grunts left his lips and hearing his husky, lust filled noises made your entire body feel warm. You didn’t understand how gagging on his cock could bring you such euphoria. Bracing yourself to deepthroat him, you repositioned yourself to get the best angle and began slipping your mouth further onto his cock. You wanted to send him over the edge. This was a dangerous game to play with Illumi. His fingers that were laced in your hair found their way to your scalp and he then moved one hand to the back of your neck before slamming his cock all the way into your throat, your nose touching his body. Illumi’s quite literally fucking your face at this point, and you’re trying so hard not to pass out, squeezing his thighs with your fingers in hopes that he’ll notice you’re nearly past your limit. He continued his ministrations, bucking into your mouth hard just to chase his release. Black is starting to encompass your vision and you think you’re going to pass out before he pulls you off his cock. A slick line of spit from your mouth to his penis breaks and falls onto your chest and you finally bring air back into your lungs. Illumi looks at you with a dangerous, cold look, before grabbing your soaked chin and making you look at him. “Up, now.”

Illumi began kissing you while guiding you backwards onto your comfortable bed. Pushing your shoulders down once you fell seated onto the bed, he crawled above you, caging you between his arms. You leaned up, sucking and biting Illumi’s neck, trying to mark him up. Much to your surprise, he wasn't complaining or resisting even though he always verbalized how much he hated the look of hickies. Humping you slowly, you feel his aroused length prodding your inner thigh and shudder. You want him so badly. He can see that you’re practically begging him to have his way with you, release some tension, you want to feel close with him, you want him to know that he can let go of his frustration with you.

Illumi lined his cock up with your wet slick, rubbing the tip against your clit deliciously before inching himself all the way into your cunt. The stretch always so pleasantly painful. He began thrusting at a slower pace, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder and hitting the perfect spot that made you moan out his name incoherently. Illumi leaned towards you, kissing and biting your neck, repaying you for leaving marks on him. You can hear his breathing hitch in your ear and it sent more arousal to your core. “Fuck.” Illumi moaned while continuing to thrust into you with perfect precision. Physically you were there with him, mentally you were on cloud 9. “You’re, squeezing me, so tight.” Illumi emphasized every word with a hard slam into your pussy, all of which threw you back into reality.

Grabbing both of your legs and folding them onto your body as far as they would go, Illumi brought you into a mating press. Using your ankles as leverage, he slammed into your abused cunt with all of his body weight. Each thrust forced a whimper out of your mouth and Illumi loved the helpless look on your face as he overpowered you. You could do nothing but enjoy the onslaught in this position. The room was filled with your wanton moans, his heavy breathing and it felt like everytime his cock hit your cervix that you were about to be sent over the edge. A few more heavy and hard thrusts caused the coil to break again, your orgasm coating your inner walls and spilling all over Illumi’s cock. He continued fucking into you as you came down from your high, so overstimulated at this point. His orgasm hit soon after, and his grip on you became even tighter. Desperate to ride out his orgasm, he continued plunging into you, slower and gentler while he filled your core with every drop of his seed. The feeling of his dick twitching in your cunt was amazing. Pulling out of your cunt, you missed the feeling of him inside you already. He released your legs from his hold, your legs falling onto the bed as he looked at you all fucked out and beautiful for him. Chest heaving, heavy lidded eyes, you stared back at him with adoration. “Feeling better, Illu?” Your words sounded desperate, almost sorry, and definitely vulnerable. Illumi leaned forward and kissed your forehead, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “A little, but I’m not done with you yet.”

#hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck #hxh smut #hxh imagines #illumi x reader #hunterxhunter #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #illumi smut #n/sfw #hxh scenarios #hxh #hxh writing #hxh x reader #hxh illumi zoldyck #hxh fanfic #hunterxhunter fanfic #hunter x hunter fanfic #forcefulkitten

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americasass81 · 3 years ago

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A Well Deserved Treat

Warnings:- Smut {m/f), Oral {male receiving], Mild Aftercare, Very Mild Fluff, Mild Spanking, Mild Degradation, Use of Pet Names. 18+ only. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are entirely my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note:- This was written especially for @ozarkthedog who sparked the idea after posting the remark pictured below. While nowhere near the standard of the exceptional creations you’ve graced us with Ozzie, I can only hope this brings a smile to your face as your fics have done for so many of us. Thank you so so much for not only allowing me to attempt this, but for sharing your wonderful imagination with us in the first place. The joy and escape you and all the other writers here create can never be measured or repaid.

Synopsis:- Can your marriage survive the discovery of a secret and an unexpected surprise?

Pairing:- dark-ish/soft!Andy Barber x Named Female Character x dark-ish Steve Rogers

Word Count:- 3,652

How you'd ended up here was anybody's guess, but at this moment in time, it didn't really matter. If you had known that morning what lay ahead you might have paid closer attention to what was going on around you, but then would it have made any difference? Waking up early to surprise your husband with breakfast in bed, something had seemed . . . off. A bit too cheerful for someone who's case was ending today, his eyes tracked your every little movement, but his face remained that of the professional lawyer you knew him to be. Never flinching, never giving away his inner thoughts.

Eating up the delicious meal you prepared for him while talking about his plans for the day, you should have seen the warning signs when his usual affection was somewhat lacking. Oh sure, he kissed you good morning like he always did, but there was no quick rumble in the sheets like there normally was. Putting it down to the importance of his case and shrugging off your concerns, another alarm bell should have gone off when Andy asked if you'd be home that evening.

Knowing that today was your usual night out with the girls, he had never once asked you to miss it or change your plans for him, and still he didn't do it this time either. But something told you he wanted you there when he came home. So that just gave you another thing to ponder. Seeing him off to work in the usual way before starting into your daily routine of household errands, by two o'clock all was done and you went about calling up the girls to cancel the night's activities. Just getting off the phone with Juliette, Andy's number popped up and despite the little niggling in the back of your mind you couldn't hide the smile that graced your features or the love in your voice as you said hello.

"Ozzie honey, how's your day been? Good I hope?" he asked and your nerves settled somewhat as your ears acknowledged the lack of tension in his voice. Relaying to him that everything was well on your end, he hummed accordingly before telling you that things were looking good with the case and he should only be a couple more hours. Then telling you that he had something special planned for both of you, he said his goodbyes and left you thinking about what you would wear for the night ahead. Lightly moving around the house while wondering what your wonderful husband had planned, a text on your phone three hours later, told you that Andy had won his case, was stopping by the bar for a quick celebratory drink and would see you in an hour. Giving you ample time to make your preparations without knowing exactly what he had planned, twenty minutes before his arrival found you sipping on some wine and scrolling through your phone while your midnight blue dress hugged your figure beautifully.

Standing by the kitchen table as the door opened however, you were both shocked and confused when looking over your shoulder you saw, not your loving husband, but the new partner that had joined his firm a few months back. Recalling that the man before you was called Steve from the few times your husband had mentioned him, you held tighter to your phone and looked past this stranger to the open door behind him. Gauging the distance between your current location and your only escape, all thoughts of leaving were temporarily pushed from your mind however as Andy suddenly appeared before you. Smiling at you before taking off his jacket, your anxiety continued to rise as Steve just stood there like an Ancient Greek statue while Andy closed the door.

Wondering what exactly was going on, Steve threw a smirk your way and looked you up and down as you successfully sidled past him to reach your husband. Placing your hands against his shoulders as he placed his jacket on the couch, his expression stopped any words from leaving your mouth as his eyes raked over your satin covered body. Bringing his hand up to caress your cheek, his lips then kissed yours tenderly before taking your hand, spinning you gently and drawing you back against his body.

Now facing the other man in the room, your thoughts were brought into sharp focus once again when his voice finally broke the silence. "You're totally right Andy, she is a babe. But one has to wonder what's hiding underneath?" he added as your husband's warm hands held you close and roamed over your trembling form. Moving his fingers towards the dip by your cleavage, the words of "trust me" whispered in your ear did little to stifle your squeal as his fist closed around the fabric and pulled it apart. Standing now before both men in your dusky blue lingerie, you tried to move your hands to cover yourself up, but Steve's tutting as he walked closer stalled your moving limbs.

"Good girl, sweetheart." he smirked as he stopped before you and reached out to capture your chin. Gazing into your confused expression as Andy reached for your hands and laced your fingers together, your brain suddenly misfired when the man before you leaned forward and planted his lips against yours. Kissing you roughly as Andy still held you close, your world tilted on its axis as the man you loved told you to open up while his colleague wormed his other hand down your body and cupped your panty covered mound.

Moaning out as his fingers danced around your nether regions while your husband's impressive package made its presence known against your back, Steve took full advantage of your distraction and sucking on your tongue, then used his own to explore your mouth in a dance as old as time. Moaning now himself as his tongue tasted hints of the wine you had just consumed while Andy continued to whisper words of encouragement against the shell of your ear, you felt Steve's lips smile against you as your body relaxed slightly under their skilled assaults.

Pulling back to let both of you breathe, you now saw the same look on Steve's face as you saw on your husband's when both of you were lost in each other's arms and as he reached out to take you from Andy, his next words told you that a kiss was more than what was on his mind. "Sweetheart you taste exquisite." he complimented as he pulled you gently towards him and rested his chin atop your head while his hands reached down to squeeze your ass. Glancing over your shoulder now to look into the lust-blown eyes of your husband, your mind went temporarily blank as Steve's hands continued to roam over your naked body while Andy reached up and ever so slowly removed his tie. Enjoying seeing this hidden side of your husband's personality was something of a shock but nowhere near as shocking as what happened next.

Moving far quicker than someone of his size should have been able to, you suddenly found yourself picked up by this powerhouse and deposited by the kitchen table as chairs were unceremoniously shoved aside to make room for what happened next. Bending you over the smooth surface and holding you easily with one hand as the sound of a belt and zipper rang clearly in your ears, you had little time to focus on what was happening behind you as Andy came to stand before you. Kissing you fiercely with a passion that only made an appearance within the privacy of your bedroom, his mouth easily captured your yelp when Steve's fingers closed around your panties and ripped the fabric from you.

Whimpering now as those same fingers delved between your intimate folds to discover your secret, shame blossomed in your core when a laugh emanated from behind you and a booming voice relayed your betrayal to the man before you. "Dammit man, she's soaked." Steve confirmed as he moved his fingers up and down your dripping folds. "I don't even have to get her warmed up. Is it always like this?" he asked and his degrading tone repulsed and turned you on in equal measure. What really blew your mind however and caused a fresh wave of arousal to leave your core was when Andy winked down at you, reached a hand forward and licked your slick off Steve's offered fingers. Groaning out at the sight as your neck craned back to enjoy the show, your eyes widened in fear as you caught a glimpse of the weapon Steve was packing. Though slightly shorter than your husband's, the meat was certainly thicker and you swiftly closed your legs and clenched your thighs in hopes of staving off what they clearly had planned for you.

Laughing at your feeble efforts as Andy released his fingers with a satisfied pop, Steve easily pried your legs apart and this time used his considerable frame to keep them open. Now grasping his leaking, throbbing rod and sliding it through your wet folds, Andy knelt before you and brought your attention back to him just as Steve lined himself up with your entrance and plunged home in one powerful thrust. Screaming at the sheer girth, having never had anything that thick inside you, his first few movements had you sliding along the table until Andy cradled your face in his hands and awakened a previously unknown side of you with his mocking and degrading tone.

“Look at you takin’ such a big cock, Honey. Bet that sweet cunt’ll be so loose by the time he’s through with you.” he whispered against your ear while his thumbs wiped the moisture leaking from your eyes. "Do you think you'll still feel me in there after this. I know I'm longer, but damn honey . . .," he smirked, moving down to lick your lips as your mind tried to figure out where this new Andy had come from while your body desperately tried to adjust to the wide load stretching your insides apart. "guess we'll find out later. In the meantime . . ." he added and with that, Andy stood back and swiftly divested himself of his suit as Steve took full advantage of having you all to himself.

Groaning above you in unison with your moans and pants, Steve removed one hand from your hips to unhook your bra and then somehow to the amazement of your sex-addled brain, flipped you over onto your back and rested your legs against his chest without ever leaving your core and continued to push you nearer and nearer to the most powerful orgasm you could ever remember having. Now having little else to do but take in the man plowing into you, you couldn't believe how handsome he truly was as his hands took hold of your thighs while his hips continued to pump into you. Winking down at you while Andy reached a hand forward to remove your bra, you now acknowledged the other differences between both men. Though both powerfully built and packing impressive schlongs between their robust thighs, Andy's chest and arms sported a light covering of what you knew to be soft hair, while what little was exposed beneath his shirt indicated that like his face, Steve's skin was as smooth as the day he was born.

Wanting so badly to reach out, rip open the material and explore the glorious body hidden beneath, this proved impossible as Andy moved into your field of vision and cut off any sounds or protests coming from your mouth as he took hold of your head and slotted his cock between your lips. "That's better honey." Andy mocked as his hips remained still and his hands moved down to play with your newly exposed breasts. "You were starting to get a little loud. You just lay there and keep me warm while Steve pulls you apart. Okay?" he questioned, though how he honestly expected you to answer was anyone's guess. Then discussing their meetings for the week ahead as Andy pinched, kneaded and slapped your tits while Steve increased the pace and strength of his thrusts, you never felt more like a whore but the fire in your loins and the slick leaking out around Steve's erection told your brain that you were right at home with how they were treating you.

Breathing through your nose as their ministrations tightened every muscle in your body, you couldn't stop the scream that left your throat as Andy removed his cock while working his talented fingers over your clit which helped Steve throw you into your first orgasm of the night. Continuing to work you through your high as Andy slotted himself back inside your mouth while gently placing your arched back down onto the table again, your brain temporarily short-circuited as your orgasm failed to subside and the guys kept working you towards another release. Bending down to place a kiss on the side of your mouth that was currently wrapped around your husband's length, your eyes ballooned as Steve looked up at Andy before speaking. "Inside . . . uhh or . . . out?" he questioned between pants as you felt the change in his thrusts that signaled he was about to come.

Gazing down on you with a look you recognized as him seriously considering his options, Steve laugh sent a real shiver down your spine as your body began to trash beneath them. Finally taking pity on you, Andy bent forward and placed the tenderest of kisses on your forehead before addressing his colleague. "Pull out pal, if you don't mind. I don't think she's quite ready for that yet," and while you appreciated this change in developments, the word 'yet' did give you pause for thought. Smiling and nodding back at both of you as he returned to the task at hand, Andy took hold of your hands and moving one up to cup his balls while his lips sucked hungrily on the fingers of the other, another powerful orgasm rocked through you as Steve replaced his cock with his fingers and worked both of you to completion before spraying his load across your chest and stomach.

Eventually reaching his own high as Steve now shoved most of his hand into your dripping snatch, you wanted to protest at the over stimulation but was unable as Andy pushed the final inch down your throat and released his cum down your windpipe. Being extremely careful pulling out of you as Steve pulled another orgasm from your exhausted body, Andy kissed his fluid from your swollen lips as he rested your hands across your tits. Looking into his ocean eyes, you tried to ask if they were done but Steve easily answered that question for you.

"Well Barber," he stuttered as he removed his hand from your pussy and stepped back to finally remove his pants and briefs, "you got enough in the tank to reward your best girl?"

"Oh I think I can rise to the challenge, Rogers." he countered and now that your mouth was finally free, you were determined to make the love of your life see sense.

"Andy baby," you whined, leaning up on your elbows and surveying the streaks of white fluid dripping down the valley between your peaks, "I don't know what's come over you," you panted as your eyes tracked him moving to take Steve's place between your now dangling legs, "but this isn't us." you continued, hoping to appeal to the kind, wonderful man who loved and cherished you more than life itself.

"Isn't it honey?" he asked as his elbows came down to rest on either side of your hips as Steve coaxed you to lick your cum off his hand while the other began massaging his cum into your skin. "You never heard of an app called Tumblr? I swear Steve, you should see some of the filthy little things my girl dreams up." he said as your mind frantically tried to figure out how he could have found out about your writing blog. Hoping he hadn't connected the dots between your hobby and the girls you should have been meeting tonight, this hope was swiftly dashed as his booming laugh reached your ears. "Oh honey, quit thinking. It didn't take me long to figure out who the rest of your inner circle included. Don't worry, secret's safe with me." he winked as he lined himself up with your overused flower and slotted home until his tip kissed your cervix

Crying out around Steve's fingers as they both began stimulating your body once again, a shiver ran through you and your protests began again when Steve moved behind your head and tapped his still hard rod against your lips. Coaxing himself down your throat as Andy hit particularly hard, your hands and Steve's relocated to your tits as his words filled the room. "Don't you mean us, Andy? Her secret's safe with us." he panted as he started working himself in and out of your warm hole while your husband continued to work you towards another orgasm you could no longer keep count of.

"You're right Rogers. Though let's just enjoy tonight to begin with." he replied and had your mouth not been full of his colleague's cock, you all would have heard your sigh of relief. As it was, you could only lay there and continue to be used as loud, wet squelching noises filled the room, while these two powerful men engaged in acts reminiscent of a bygone era. Moaning out when both of them felt you tighten around them as indication of another onslaught, your body quaked and quivered once more beneath them as you came once more this night. Hoping now that your ordeal was over but remembering that both men had not yet finished, you audibly whined as Andy sped up his thrusts and attacked your clit as Steve continued pumping his hips while telling you over and over again what a good girl you were.

Finally releasing within you as all three of you came together yet again, your body shook and your breathing remained labored as Steve pulled out and kissed you tenderly while Andy continued to gently work his cock in and out of your throbbing and sensitive pussy. Thanking you for a wonderful night as Andy then directed Steve towards the downstairs bathroom before telling him he could show himself out, Andy successfully picked you up while still attached to his erection and walking both of you upstairs, only released you upon entering the en suite. Carefully holding your tender body and placing you gently on the toilet while he reached beside you to turn on the shower, you tried not to fall asleep as your body finally acknowledged all it had just been through.

Then turning around to lift you carefully to your feet, Andy slowly moved you to the shower and washing every part of your aching body with the utmost care, continued to heap words of love, praise and encouragement on you before turning off the water, wrapping you in a towel and placing you on the couch in the bedroom. Slipping back into the shower to clean himself off, he then dried quickly and returned to dry you off and lather your skin with the lotion he knew you loved before slipping both of you into bed.

Relaxing into the warm, comfortable bed beneath you, you lay down on your back and smiled up at your husband before finally speaking. "What really happened tonight Andy? Where did all that come from?" you asked, taking one of his hands and lacing his fingers with yours as a sigh left his lips.

"Part of it was definitely finding your blog Ozzie. But I also wanted to fulfill a fantasy I don't think you'd ever admit to having.." he answered, bringing his lips down to yours.

"A fantasy of mine?" you questioned. "Andy baby, you know you're more than enough for me, right?" you questioned, looking into his beautiful blue eyes for any doubt.

"Oh I know that Ozzie," he laughed and you found yourself relaxing once again as your own fears evaporated with his reassurance, "but I saw the way you and Steve looked at each other during the summer barbeque the firm had and I know my work causes me to neglect you too much. I thought you deserved a treat." he smirked and you honestly couldn't hide the laugh that left your throat that bringing you another dick was considered a treat.

"Okay well that is an . . . interesting treat." you giggled as you kissed him passionately before rolling over onto your side. "But next time, maybe discuss something like this with me first. Not that I'm complaining."

"Oh, next time." Andy laughed as he pulled your body against his and wrapped his arms securely around you. "I don't remember guaranteeing there'd be a next time, Ozzie." he whispered against your hair as you brought your hands up to slink around his biceps.

"True. But you're not retiring any time soon so I'm sure there'll be plenty more opportunities for me to feel lonely and neglected while waiting for my wonderful husband to come home." you giggled as his head moved down to the juncture between your neck and shoulders and he used his talented lips and glorious beard to tease and tickle your pulse point until tears of laughter streamed down your face and you became putty once more in his skillful hands. Eventually not being able to take any more, Andy kissed your forehead, eyelids and lips once more before moving onto his back, resting you gently against his chest and pulling the covers over both of you while waiting for sleep to claim your tired yet satiated bodies.

Tagging:- @ozarkthedog

#dark-ish/soft!Andy Barber x Named Female Character x dark-ish Steve Rogers

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under-sedationnn · 4 years ago

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zuko x non-bender! reader: captured and enamored pt. 4: altercation

Word Count: 3093

Warning: there are mentions of blood, slight violence and emotional manipulation!! if you feel as though that may trigger you in any way then scroll away, i completely understand. it is also important for me to note that the reader within this story is using feminine pronouns since that is what was requested :) thanks and enjoy!

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

tag list: @marvelous-revengers @rqseycheeks

if you would like to be added to the tag list: comment, send me an ask, or send me a message :)

Since my argument with Zuko, our interactions with one another have gone back to what they originally were. Cold, distant, reserved. Done only for the need of survival. Iroh has always disliked the tension, but he seemed to be able to sense a change in feelings towards one another. We now had sentiments, heavy ones.

Admittedly, however, I was enjoying watching Zuko struggle to survive underneath the conditions of a normal citizen living off of the earth. It was like watching a fish out of water; he squirmed, writhed, gasped for breath. I laughed.

Weeks out from Azula’s betrayal, we sported longer hair, dirtier faces, and dark green robes. The semi-fluorescent blue hues of my original clothes had been destroyed by months of hassle and dirt and grime. We now blended in with the farmers and poor, disguising Zuko and Iroh from the Fire Nation as expertly as we could.

As Iroh and I sat in a small, dirt clearing, Zuko emerged from thick bushes that lined the area. He huffed, frustrated.

“I didn't find anything to eat! I can't live like this! I wasn't meant to be a fugitive.” He raised his fists to the sky, and shook them comically. “This is impossible!”

“Not impossible,” I began, shifting my weight onto one of my legs, “you just don’t know how to survive without servants, is all.”

He was about to reply when his focus was shifted to Iroh, squatting down next to a small plant with a singular white flower.

“Uncle, what are you doing?”

Following his gaze, I found Iroh staring intently at the flower, mesmerized and obviously in deep thought.

His voice full of wonder, he said, “You're looking at the rare white dragon bush. Its leaves make a tea so delicious, it's heartbreaking. That, or it's the white jade, which is poisonous.”

Impatiently, Zuko said, “We need food, not tea. I'm going fishing.”

“You sure you can manage?” I called behind me.

Turning around, he answered, “I need you to stay here with Uncle; see that he doesn’t do something stupid.”

“You mean you don’t need me to supervise you, too?”

Without another word, Zuko stalked into the woods in hopes of finding us breakfast.

-----

I didn’t immediately realize Zuko’s return, his footsteps bringing my attention away from the white jasmine flower and to his feet behind Iroh and I.

“Zuko,” Iroh started, “remember that plant I thought might be tea?”

“You didn’t…” Zuko said, disbelief in his tone.

“I did,” Iroh said, turning around, “and it wasn’t.”

Zuko shrieked and fell back, dropping the branch he used to catch his fish.

Excitedly, Iroh called out, “At least I was not alone in my endeavors!”

I could feel Zuko’s eyes on my back, a smug look playing across his features. I am never going to live this down.

Shifting slowly, the dirt underneath me dusting my pant legs, I looked at him. He sat tall, proud, in the pale sun of the morning. The shame of the singular fish he managed to catch was washed away by the pure naivety I not only possessed, but so spectacularly exhibited when he left me with Iroh. If only I hadn’t been so smug about my survival skills.

With a small chuckle, he stood from his spot on the ground and looked into my flushed and swollen face.

“Well Y/n, how are you feeling?”

With a sigh, “Not too well, Zuko, thank you for asking!”

Cutting our conversation short, Iroh intervened. “When the rash spreads to our throats, we will stop breathing.”

Shocked, Zuko and I shot him a look of intense worry. Sensing our discomfort, he tried, “But look what I found! These are bacui berries, known to cure the poison of the white jade.” Small pause. “That, or maka'ole berries that cause blindness.”

Snatching the berries from Iroh’s grip, Zuko yelled, “We're not taking any more chances with these plants! We need to get help.”

“Okay, where?” I asked, taking back by his sudden concern, “We’re kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

“Well there has to be someone around here who can help! I’m not letting either of you die.”

Iroh bent down to vigorously scratch his legs, making my own rashes flare up. “We're enemies of the Earth Kingdom and fugitives from the Fire Nation.”

“If the Earth Kingdom discovers us, they’ll have us killed.” Zuko added, resting his chin between his thumb and forefinger in deep thought.

“Yet, if the Fire Nation finds us,” I started, scratching the top of my arm and neck furiously, “we’ll have Azula to deal with, and she wants me dead.”

With a shared look between the two of them, they decided that daring the Earth kingdom was our best bet at staying alive. Though the journey was not far, my legs began to swell, making it difficult for me to walk very far at all. Although I wanted to, I didn’t fight when Zuko offered to carry me.

“Zuko, really, you don’t have to,” I tried, but he persevered.

“Y/n, hop on my back, now,” he said, squatting down and bracing himself for the weight, “we can’t have you collapsing, and we’re not leaving you behind.”

With a small huff, I climbed onto his back and held onto him by gripping his chest, my legs wrapped around his thin waist. “Comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” I responded, and we journeyed forward. I made note of the small smile that formed on Iroh’s face, and allowed myself to mirror his actions. Despite his antics, Zuko truly was… sweet. He could be a jerk, but whatever was underneath was kind and gentle and simply troubled. This thought and the rhythmic beat of his heart nearly coaxed me into a sleep, the warmth of his back seeping through his cloak and onto my chest. However, the feeling of his hands holding onto my thighs began to sting slightly, and I eventually asked to be put down.

“Are you sure? I can always hold you in a different way,” he paused to think, “like bridal style!” Realizing the implications of what he said, he blushed slightly and began to stutter. “Well, I mean, not like bridal style because we’re not getting married or anything, at least not anytime soon- I mean, I won’t ever marry you, which isn’t to say that you won’t get married because- I mean, well, you’re really pretty, wait- no, your face isn’t like terrible so you’ll find someone who-”

Cutting himself off, he turned and began walking once again without another word, the tips of his ears blushing a dark red. Iroh only snickered at this display, and I began walking side by side with him, the two of us behind Zuko. “You know, my nephew, you could always carry me instead! I'm sure I would make an excellent example of a blushing bride.”

I chuckled, my face donning its own shade of scarlett. Zuko replied, “Pass.”

Eventually, our journey brought us to a small clinic within the Earth Kingdom. I sat beside Zuko, watching as a young healer smeared cream onto Iroh’s worsening rashes. Although my own were not as bad as his, the inside of my throat began to tighten and the rashes burned instead of itched.

Zuko’s smirk caught my eye, making me turn my head to face him. “And what are you looking at?”

He only chuckled slightly, “You, and your very swollen face.”

I huffed in response, “How was I supposed to know it was poison?”

“Well, I thought you knew so much about living it rough in the woods that, you know, I figured I better not question your judgement.” His sarcastic tone would have usually sent me into somewhat of a frenzy, especially since we had been at each other’s throats constantly for the past few weeks. This time, however, I couldn’t help but think about how worried he was about the two of us.

“Either way, thank you for leading Iroh and I here, and for quite literally carrying me.”

Smiling softly, he shifted his gaze toward his feet. “No big deal, I didn’t mind.”

I mirrored his actions, looking down at my hands, picking carelessly at my cuticles.

“Miss, you’re up next!” The healer who had just finished another patient’s cupping treatment called me over, patting the table with her hand. I plopped myself down on the table and she smiled sweetly, beginning to examine the rashes on my face and arms.

“Where does it itch?” she asked.

“Um… everywhere. My throat is sore, too.”

I heard Zuko chuckle at my response, and I sent him a playful glare.

The other healer piped in, “You three must not be from around here. We know better than to touch the White Jade, much less make it into tea and drink it.”

She flicked away Iroh’s hand as he tried to scratch his worsening rashes. “Whoops!”

My healer turned from the others slightly, redirecting the conversation. “If the rash is all over, I will need you to remove your top and bottoms.”

I shot a look at Zuko, who returned the same wide eyed expression. Realizing, I whipped my head back to the healer and tried to regain my composure. “Okay, um, is there a divider that we could use? For privacy?”

Understanding my concern, she responded, “Oh, of course! One moment!” She rushed from the room, and the conversation returned to normal.

“So where are you traveling from?” Iroh’s healer asked, and the tension in the air heightened.

“Yes, we’re travelers,” Zuko repeated, completely avoiding the question.

“Do you have names?” she asked, pressing further.

I could see Zuko beginning to panic slightly, sweat forming on his temples, “Names? Of course we have names. I'm, uh ... Lee and this is my Uncle, uh ... Mushi?”

Iroh shot Zuko and irritated glare at the name choice. “Yes, my nephew was named after his father, so we just call him Junior.” He smiled mischievously at Zuko.

I clapped my hand over my mouth in order to keep from laughing. Zuko moved his thumb across his throat, signalling that he would kill Iroh. So dramatic.

“And your name?” she asked, turning to face me.

“Her name is uh…” he paused, looking around the room until he found something that could suffice as a name, “Silk!” I followed his gaze, landing on an abandoned robe that lay across the back of a small chair.

As she turned to place the cap onto the jar with ointment in it, I gave Zuko an incredulous look. “Silk?” I mouthed, to which he raised his arms in a shrug.

“Mushi, Junior and Silk, huh. My name is Song. You three look like you could use a good meal. Why don't you stay for dinner?”

“Sorry, we need to be moving on,” said Zuko, suddenly serious.

“That’s too bad, my mom always makes too much roast duck,” she said, giving Zuko a sweet smile, “and your friend here isn’t even patched up, yet.”

"Yeah, Junior," I teased, "what's the rush?"

Just then, her mother returned with the divider and set it up in front of my bed. Removing my shirt with the healer’s help, I heard Iroh ask, “Where do you live exactly?”

I guess we’re staying for roast duck.

Later, we all sat around a small table as Song’s mother presented us with a large platter of roast duck. “So, my daughter tells me you’re refugees? We were once refugees, ourselves.”

“When I was a little girl, the Fire Nation raided our farming village.” Song started, “All the men were taken away. That was the last time I saw my father.”

“I haven’t seen my father in many years,” Zuko responded. He didn’t meet her eyes, gazing intently at his bowl. Iroh watched the scene from his seat, slurping a bowl of noodles.

“Oh, is he fighting in the war?”

His eyes softened. “Yeah.”

Realizing he didn’t want to speak on the matter any longer, Song shifted her attention to me. “Silk, has your experience with the Fire Nation been just as troubling?”

I made quick eye contact with Zuko and Iroh, wringing my hands nervously underneath the table. “Uh… yeah, kind of.”

With expectant eyes, she urged me to go on. “Not very long ago, a large fleet of Fire Nation soldiers raided my village and burned it down. I was able to escape with friends, but I had to leave my family and home behind.”

I thought of the men, women and children who were left burned and bloody in the streets, the scared infants screaming in terror, and the smell of smoke that lingered on my hair for weeks. I reeked of horror.

"It was... disgusting. A disgusting display of power. The Fire Nation must be growing more insecure with each passing day."

“And these two,” she motioned to Iroh and Zuko, who looked as though they were hanging on my every word, ready to pounce, “are these the friends you speak of?”

Huffing shortly, I fixed my gaze on Song and replied, “Not entirely, but as we said earlier, we are all refugees. I… met them along the way.”

I quickly returned to my meal, not wanting to push my luck with Zuko and Iroh. Are they my friends? Can I really trust them? It was hard to tell. They act as though they care about me, but they still tote me around like luggage half of the time.

Excusing myself from the table, I stood up and walked outside. “I just need some fresh air.”

“I’ll join you,” said Zuko, and he walked to the opening in the wall. Placing a hand on my back, he shifted me forward slightly in order to make room for the door to slide shut.

Lowering myself to the top step, I took a seat directly next to Zuko. We hadn’t sat this close in weeks, and today is the first day since our argument that we have really talked. Although, I was worried that my comments inside might have worsened the situation. His expression was sour as he looked out past the open gate into the dark.

Lamplight from inside the small house filtered in through the panes of the walls, casting soft shadows across his features. It diminished the sharp lines of his cheekbones, his jaw; but his eyes remained hard, fixed. Fireflies raced around the yard, flickering in and out of existence against the dark backdrop.

"I wanted to be alone."

"Well, that's not what you're getting."

"It doesn't seem like any of my concerns are taken into consideration."

No response. Nothing other than the croaks of mature frogs and the sound of wind across wind chimes answered me. I continued the conversation.

“Zuko, what am I to you?”

Looking down past his nose, he answered honestly, “I don’t know, Y/n.”

He let the answer hang in the air for a few moments. “What am I to you?”

With a small, humorless chuckle, I said, “I don’t know.”

“Well, at least we can agree on one thing.”

Giggling genuinely this time, I knocked my shoulder against his and gave him a small smile.

“There’s just… a lot of luggage for me to unpack. With you and Iroh, honestly.”

“I know,” he said, “and I’m sorry that it has to be that way.”

Taking his hand in my own, I brought his knuckles to my cheek, “It doesn’t. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“How so?”

Taking a deep breath, and steeling myself for defensiveness, I answered, “You could change it, the Fire Nation’s reputation. You can change what they stand for.”

“But in order to do that, I have to restore my honor. I have to capture the Avatar-”

“That’s the problem!” Raising my voice, grabbing his attention, “You’re looking for someone else to ‘restore your honor’ when in actuality, you still have it! You have to fight for yourself, Zuko.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing! Why do you think I took you, huh?”

He was in my face at this point, his eyes sharp and his tone accusing, hurt. I could feel his breath on my nose.

“I know why you took me, I want to know why I’m still here.” His eyes softened, and my voice dropped. “Since you know I won’t ever give my friends away to you, why do you keep me here? Why are you dragging me along to no prevail?”

“Because-” he began, “because you’re-”

“Because why?”

“You’re changing me!” he whispered, “You’ve opened my eyes. So many people have been hurt and killed with no remorse because of us, because of me.”

“And yet, what, you still want to become like your father? Obviously I’m not doing too much good, staying around.”

His eyes narrowed once more, and he winced at my tone, shifting away from me.

“Thank you for the duck, it was excellent,” Iroh said, and the door slid open once more. He, Song and her mother filed out onto the small porch, flooding the area with warm light.

“You’re welcome. It brings me much joy to see someone eat my cooking with such… gusto.”

Iroh happily patted his stomach. “Much practice.”

Without another word, Zuko turned to leave, making his way down the front steps.

“Junior, where are your manners? You need to thank these nice people,”Iroh scolded.

He turned and bowed. “Thank you.”

I did the same. “Thank you, it was delicious. I’m sorry I had to excuse myself early, memories are hard to cope with.”

Stepping closer to me, Song placed a hand on my shoulder. “I know it seems like there is not any hope left in the world, but there is hope. The Avatar has returned.”

“We know,” Zuko responded bitterly from behind me.

Zuko led Iroh and I away from the porch, but stopped when he saw an ostrich horse tied to a post. Walking to it, he quietly unfashioned it and mounted the animal.

“Zuko, what the hell are you doing?” I asked.

“These people just showed you a great kindness,” Iroh reasoned, but Zuko did not listen, nor did he care.

“They’re about to show us a little more kindness,” he motioned for us to mount the animal with him, his expression resentful and impatient, “Well?”

Reluctantly, Iroh and I mounted the animal and we set course. Riding, I broke the awkward, tense silence.

"Zuko, I want to go home."

"Too bad," he responded, voice cold and detached, "I burned it all down."

TO BE CONTINUED

#atla imagine #atla fanfic #atla #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko fanfic #avatar zuko #zuko #prince zuko

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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years ago

Text

Sorrow

Yandere Siren/Fae!Hawks x Reader

Warnings: Yandere content, survivalism, pain, slight blood, suggestive adult content

A/N: This is one of the fics I was gonna post in October, but didn’t finish it on time, but I guess that means I can be a spooky dude all year round.

Tears may be cheap, but you keep them sacred.

Your captor has taken almost everything away from you: your body, your mind, your freedom, but you will not be giving him your sorrow. That will stay buried, locked away inside your chest, where the key lies somewhere he will never get to. You know he wants it. He’d told you as much.

“I’ve committed all of your expressions to memory,” he’d said one night after you nearly bit his tongue off. He’d used his song to ease you into a half-lucid state, where he kept you in his lap, wrapped tightly in his arms, shrouded in his wings. “The scorch in your hateful eyes when you wish you could fight me. The tremble in your delicious pout when you wish you could resist me. The furrow in those beautiful brows when I have you forfeited to the pleasure I give you after a battle you wish you could have won.”

Air-light fingers brushed down your cheek. He’d grabbed you by the chin, and tilted your head so that your gaze was locked in with his.

“Do I really gotta sing every time I want you to surrender, little dove?”

His fingers tip-toed down your chest, past your opened blouse. His thumb encircled your nipple until it puckered for him. He’d given it a teasing pinch. You’d stifled a moan lodged in your throat. He’d noticed.

“Aren’t you sorry for hurting me?”

You remember how good it felt to have him kneading at your chest. How his breath was nothing short of intoxicating. How you wanted nothing more than to lean into him—to kiss him—to put your hands all over him. You also remember that the only reason you wanted any of that was due to his song—his sweet siren lullaby.

“Tell me you’re sorry, angel,” he’d said, cupping your face with his free hand. His thumb slid across your cheek, under your eye. You’d known he wanted to see you cry so badly. You would not.

You’d shaken your head, and took note of the twitch in his feathered eyebrows.

His hands had moved through your hair then, lightly pulling through your roots. That was when he’d parted his lips, and began to sing.

Kiego has three songs committed to memory: one to lull you to sleep, one to make you more suggestable in the bedroom, and one to beckon you to him. The song he’d sang for you that night was the suggestable one—the mesmeric tune that made you turn around so that your knees were on either side of his thighs, the one that made you melt into his embrace, the one that made you his.

You’ve always wondered why? Why you? Out of anybody in the world, the siren had grown to have an obsessive infatuation with you. At times, you have thought that if it hadn’t been you, it would be another unfortunate soul in your place—somebody else that might not be able to withstand him, or somebody else who would actively enjoy his company. But during the times he sings for you, you don’t think. You don’t have to.

When he sang to you that night, all you could think about was giving him everything he wanted; however, the stubborn sore in your heart still clung on to the idea that he would not have you in tears.

“Say you’re sorry,” he’d commanded again between slow, sensuous kisses.

And you’d responded with: “never.”

Since then, you’ve been good. You’ve been obedient. You’ve given him everything except your tears. If you don’t stick to your ideals, then you really do have nothing.

However, when one only has so little to lose, and so much more to gain, one becomes reckless. First, your recklessness comes in mere thoughts—creeping visions of harming your winged abuser, which proves as dangerous, seeing as he’s stronger than you, faster than you, and has that pesky siren song. Then, you’ve begun thinking about running. The closer, more agreeable you become, the more he lets his guard down. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve begun learning his schedule: when he eats, when he hunts, when he sleeps, and what wakes him.

Comfort and praise seems to be the ticket to getting him to trust you more. Each night, you stroke his wings, you kiss his neck, you tell him his voice is gorgeous, fathomless, and irresistible. He thinks he has you under his spell—maybe he does, a little bit—but you’re not completely lost to him. You know that you have to leave. You know that you will leave. You’ve just got to figure out when.

It happens early in the morning.

The night before, he’d brought home spirits for you and him to drink. The two of you toasted to each other, danced together, and drank together. But he hadn’t seen that most of what had been in your glass went discarded in one of the potted plants full of herbs and berries he has allowed you to tend to. He hadn’t seen when you spiked his glass with a concoction you’d been working on for weeks with the herbs and berries he’d allowed you to tend to. He hadn’t noticed when his eyes grew drowsy, and he fell into bed with you in tow, you eased away from him, waiting for his breathing to slow.

The sun’s not up yet, but you know you have to leave. When you’re ready, you tie your boots, stock some food and water, and despite everything he’s put you through, you kiss him. Once. A sort of farewell, thanks for the memories, I won’t be missing you, you piece of chicken shit.

The departure is soundless—something you’re not used to due to Kiego’s constant singing, crooning, and happy little chirps. His guard had been down the night before, so there aren't as many safety precautions to heed as you silently maneuver your way to escape his loft.

When you’re out, you’re out. Free. Running. The most you can do to not shriek with glee and alert him of your escape is to keep your goal in mind: Find civilization. Find help. Hide. Keep running. Whatever you need to do to keep your safe stead.

At least, that’s always been the plan. You hadn’t accounted for the landscape. In fact, you’ve only ever seen a fraction of the surrounding parameters of his loft. You don’t know about the drop-off point by the outer edge of the woods. The whispering oranges of dawn have only just cracked through the trees, so you don’t see the danger when you slip on some foliage and are sent spiraling. Falling, rolling, screaming, until you catch yourself on a tree. Rather, your body wraps around a tree, which nearly knocks the wind out of you.

Groaning, you lay there for a while and breathe. The air filling up your lungs is frigid. Deadly. A part of you wants to fall asleep, find warmth in your dreams. A part of you knows that if you do that, you might catch hypothermia and die.

So you stand.

The world is dizzying. Trees tilt, while shrubs and rocks spin around you. Your first few steps are a sideways hustle. You’re like a toddler first learning to walk. There’s a sharp pain in your leg, and it takes everything out of you not to look down. If you think you’re seriously injured, you’ll give up. You hadn’t packed anything for first aid, and even if you had, you’ve lost your water and food during the fall.

You’re not sure which way to walk for a few minutes. You’re dawdling, finding your footing. The destination should be away from the drop-off, so you slowly make your way down the hill, sitting and scooting when you’re unsure if you’ll fall again.

It’s only when you find solid ground again that you hear him. His song. Some new hypnotic tune, miles away, reverberating throughout the forest. It’s nothing short of haunting and you don’t spare another second to listen. He’s awake. He knows you’re gone.

The next mile is clumsier than before. Though you’re sure not to fall, your balance is off, and your body slams into a dozen trees. Sometimes it’s because you can’t help it, while you often just need one to hold you up so you can breathe. Your palms cover your ears the entire time, and even still, his song gets louder. Invasive. He’s growing nearer. If you don’t hide, he will find you.

By nothing short of a miracle, you find a large tree where the trunk is hollowed out. You crawl in, allowing your hands to touch the ground, away from your ears for only a moment, but a moment is all the song needs.

Suddenly, you’re struck with an aching. It’s anguish. Mourning. Sorrowful remembrance. Your chest constricts with a dire need to release, but you don’t go so far to ponder exactly what it is trying to crawl its way up your esophagus. You hold back your emotions with what’s left of your strength, while you try to keep your breathing steady.

Through the cracks in the trunk, you see a flash of brilliant crimson. The ground thuds with his landing. It’s silent for a moment, until his song starts up again. You keep your palms clamped over your ears while you bury your head between your knees. You’ll stay like that for however long is needed. You will not allow yourself to be seduced or lulled or beckoned. You will not be found.

There’s no telling how much time has passed. Seconds crawl to minutes, and minutes crawl to excruciating tension. You’re not aware of the end of his song until you use your hand to wipe at your leg. It’s sticky, probably from blood, but you won’t think about it until you’re safe.

It has to have been awhile since he’s scoured the area. You army crawl out of the tree, chest scraping away at the frosty, dirt floor. The sun is barely peeking up through the trees, and you allow its warmth to touch your mud-caked skin.

In the distance, there’s smoke. With a bit of walking, you see a fire pit, and someone in a black, wool cloak sitting by it.

Picking up your pace, you call out to him, but your voice cracks to only a squeak. Still, the hooded man looks up at you. You hope he can see that you’re hurt, recognize that you’re in need of first aid. He can shelter you, take you back to civilization, and save you.

But while you half-hazardly bound towards him, you’re pushed to the side. Rather, you’re zooming through the air, unable to utter a scream, until your back slams into a tree.

Despite the pain, the loss of energy, you writhe and howl under Keigo’s harsh scrutiny. His wings spread out, taking a predatory stance, while desperate amber eyes search your body. Though his face doesn’t show a hint of malice, you know the trouble you’re in. His lips part, and an unfamiliar melody begins.

“No!!!!!” Your hands fly up to your ears, but he catches them in a vice grip, pinning them back against the giant tree’s trunk. He begins to sing and you know you’ve lost.

Loss. That’s what this is—his song. Unbridled, unrelenting grief. The tune sweeps across your feet, slowly creeping up your body. It hugs your waist as it wraps around you, squeezing as it coils. You choke as the substantial heartache clogs your throat with the emotions you’ve been repressing for months.

Tears burn your lower lashes and your vision blurs. You blink, and a hot stream runs down your cheek. Though Keigo continues to sing, you see a subtle tilt to his mouth. While your body slackens, too tired to fight him off any longer, he cups your face and pulls you into him before you can crumple. He pets your beat up, bruised back, and coos.

“Sneaky little bird.” There are two octaves in Keigo’s voice as he speaks to you, as if two people were speaking at once. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

A part of his statement is true. You can feel it. His songs reflect his emotions and desires, and he wouldn’t be able to create this relentless melody unless he, too, felt the way it made you feel. But you also hear the triumph on his tenor. He has obtained what he’s always wanted: the key to that sacred place in your heart you wouldn’t allow him to venture to. There’s no saying that he doesn’t now own you completely.

“My sweet angel, what am I going to do with you?” As he speaks, you cling to him, knitting your nails into his shirt.

“I’m s-sorry.” It’s a faint croak, but it’s all you have to offer him. It’s all you can do to stop more renegade tears from staining his shirt. His chest shakes as he chuckles.

A twig snaps in the near distance. Keigo sharply turns towards the noise, and wraps an arm around your waist, one of his wings shrouding you slightly. Through his puffed out feathers, you see the man from the fire pit standing near a tree. He eyes the both of you with intrigue, but not concern. You cast him a pleading look, and you know he sees you, but all he does is sigh.

There’s a low, sort of echoing growl coming from deep within your captor’s chest. It’s menacingly territorial, but the cloaked man doesn’t react. Instead, he steps back and into the tree. Not like he stepped into the tree, rather, at one point he was a man, and now he is the tree. Two separate objects becoming one.

Keigo lets out an annoyed grunt, and in one swift movement, hoists you into his arms, carrying you in bridal style. He looks down at your leg, which you can now see has a giant scarlet puddled gash in it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says while his wings begin to flap. The gusts blow foliage around you as you lift off the ground, and Keigo offers you a sort of sweet, conjugal smile. “After that, we can discuss your...punishment.”

A sob tears out from your throat. Keigo tuts, cradling you closer to his chest.

“You don’t have to worry, little dove. Though, I do promise to be gentle, don’t expect me to act like a gentleman. You’ve put us through the ringer today, and once you’re healed and healthy, we’ll work on all the ways you’ll be apologizing. Until then, let’s go home.”

Home. The place where Keigo will have you locked away in his birdcage of a loft. The place where you give him your body, your mind, your freedom, and now, even your sorrow.

While the two of you take flight, you think to cry some more--to let it all out of your system before you have your captor’s undivided attention. But as he flies, he hums a tune, and soon your eyelids fall, and you slacken in his embrace.

#yandere bnha #yandere!hawks #hawks x reader #yandere!hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #bnha x reader #siren!hawks #siren!hawks x reader #yandere male #bnha oneshot #yandere!keigo takami #yandere x reader #suggestive content

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