#but i guess at first glance it might seem more like i drew on the phantom's relationship with christine for this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafedarling · 14 days

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𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰

pairing: drew starkey x reader

based on this request: Drew and reader! After watching Outer Banks season 1, out of curiosty because the reader finds him attractive, she goes on his instagram but accidently presses ''Follow'' but panics and unfollows. She wants to play it cool you know, and not be that ''fangirl'' incase she ever bumped into him. Not that she thinks she would ever have a chance, but you know? She is surprised when he follows her a few hours later since she is just a 'normal person' and not a celebrity or influencer. He sends her a message and kind of jokingly being like ''Was I that boring to follow'' or something and a conversation just takes off | word count: 1,2k

warning: english is not my native language.

au: like, reblog, comment & feedback are much appreciated 🥹 | taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @mileyraes @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy @enjoymyloves @stuffyownswrld

You had just finished watching the first season of Outer Banks, and to say you were hooked would be an understatement. The show had everything—drama, adventure, and a cast that was undeniably attractive. But there was one character who had particularly caught your eye: Rafe Cameron, played by the actor Drew Starkey. You weren’t sure if it was the intensity he brought to the character or just his piercing blue eyes, but either way, you found yourself thinking about him long after the credits rolled.

Out of curiosity, and maybe a little bit of a crush, you decided to check out his Instagram. You were sure it was just harmless fun, a way to see what the actor was like off-screen. After all, it wasn’t like you were ever going to meet him in real life. You were just a normal person, living a normal life, far removed from the glitz and glamour of Hollywood.

You typed his name into the search bar and quickly found his profile. As you scrolled through his photos, you couldn’t help but notice how different he seemed from his character. He had a warm, genuine smile in most of his pictures, and the captions were often humorous or thoughtful. It was refreshing, and it only made you like him more.

Without really thinking, your thumb hovered over the “Follow” button. Before you could second-guess yourself, you pressed it—almost instinctively. But as soon as you did, panic set in. Oh no, what did I just do? Your mind raced. I wasn’t supposed to actually follow him!

In a frenzy, you quickly unfollowed him, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you couldn’t believe you had been so careless. What if he saw? you thought, mortified. You weren’t trying to be that person—just another fangirl who accidentally reveals her crush on a celebrity.

You put your phone down, trying to distract yourself with something else, but your mind kept drifting back to that split-second decision. He has millions of followers, you reassured yourself. There’s no way he would notice one random person following and unfollowing him.

Hours passed, and you had almost managed to forget the whole thing when your phone buzzed with a notification. You glanced at the screen and froze. It was a notification from Instagram: @drewstarkey followed you back.

Your heart skipped a beat. Wait, what? You stared at the screen, blinking in disbelief. Drew Starkey, the Drew Starkey, had followed you? But why? You were just an ordinary person, not a celebrity or influencer. The thought that he might have actually noticed you made your stomach do a little flip.

Before you could fully process what was happening, another notification appeared—a message from him. With shaky fingers, you tapped on it, your heart racing.

Drew Starkey:

Was I that boring to follow? 😅

You stared at the message, completely floored. He noticed. He actually noticed. And not only that, he had messaged you, joking about it. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry, but one thing was certain: you needed to reply.

Taking a deep breath, you started typing.

You:

Oh my gosh, no! It was totally an accident. I swear I’m not a weirdo or anything…

You paused, rereading the message. Great, now I sound like a weirdo, you thought, rolling your eyes at yourself. You quickly added:

You:

I was just checking out your profile after watching Outer Banks. But then I got nervous and unfollowed because I didn’t want to seem like a fangirl.

There was a brief moment of silence as you watched the three little dots indicating he was typing. Your heart was in your throat, and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Drew Starkey:

No need to be nervous. I’m just a regular guy who happens to play a crazy one on TV. 😄

You felt your nerves ease a little at his response. He seemed so down-to-earth and genuine, which only made you like him more.

You:

Well, you’re really good at playing the crazy guy. I didn’t think I’d ever root for Rafe, but you made him so compelling!

Drew Starkey:

Thanks! That means a lot. It’s always fun to play characters that are so different from who I am in real life.

You:

I can imagine. It must be challenging, though.

Drew Starkey:

Definitely. But it’s also rewarding when people like you notice the work that goes into it. By the way, what did you think of the show?

The conversation was flowing so naturally, it was almost surreal. Here you were, chatting with Drew Starkey like you were old friends, and he was genuinely interested in what you had to say.

You:

I loved it! It was such a wild ride from start to finish. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. And the cast is amazing—I can tell you all have great chemistry.

Drew Starkey:

We really do. It’s like a little family on set. I’m glad that comes across on screen.

There was a brief pause, and then another message came through.

Drew Starkey:

So, since we’re already chatting, mind if I keep following you? 😉

You couldn’t help but smile at the cheeky tone of his message. He was clearly teasing you, but there was something sweet about it, too.

You:

Well, I guess I can allow that. 😏

Drew Starkey:

Good to know I’m not banned from your profile. 😄

You:

Not at all. But now I feel like I have to step up my Instagram game. 😂

Drew Starkey:

No pressure! I’m just here for the good vibes and dog pics, if you have any.

You laughed, feeling completely at ease now. This whole situation had gone from panic-inducing to utterly charming in a matter of minutes.

You:

Well, you’re in luck. I do have a dog, and she’s very photogenic.

Drew Starkey:

Now I’m really glad I followed you. 🐶

The two of you continued chatting for a while, sharing stories about your pets, favorite shows, and the little things in life that made you happy. It was easy, comfortable, and fun—like catching up with a friend you hadn’t seen in a while.

Eventually, you noticed the time and realized how late it had gotten.

You:

I should probably let you go. I didn’t mean to keep you up all night!

Drew Starkey:

No worries, this was fun. I’m glad you accidentally followed me. 😁

You:

Me too. Thanks for being so cool about it.

Drew Starkey:

Anytime. And hey, don’t be a stranger. Feel free to message me anytime.

You:

I will. Goodnight, Drew.

Drew Starkey:

Goodnight, Y/n.

You set your phone down with a huge smile on your face, your heart still fluttering from the unexpected turn of events. What had started as a simple curiosity had led to something much more—an actual conversation with Drew Starkey. And the best part? He’d followed you first.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x oc #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x y/n

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januaryembrs · 4 months

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Bugsy and Spencer tea!!

the one with the card counting | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

description: Bugsy and Spence quarrel while playing Old Maid

length: 700 wds

set in the trouble almost all my life universe

“Spence, I love you, but if you try card counting in Old Maid one more time, I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the flight,” Bugsy snipped, staring down at the man over their deck of cards, his hazel eyes narrowed and concentrated as he flicked through his hand. The joker card glared down at him from the dead centre, where he’d strategically placed it so she’d be more likely to take it when her turn came, though he’d been unsuccessful so far.

She didn’t need to see his lips to know he was chewing them in frustration, eyes darting between the pile on the table of already used hands, the rest of the deck they were picking up from, and how many cards she had in her hand.

“I’m not, and even if I was, it’s just math,” He replied in a defensive tone, knowing she’d already caught him out as he looked up at her, the red back designs fanning over her mouth and nose, though her annoyed expression was still clear as day to him. For a guy who rarely understood what people meant until they spelled it out verbally for him, Bugsy had always just seemed to make sense in his head, “I’m not cheating,”

He said it like someone who was trying to convince himself it was true, his eyes as innocent and none threatening as they would go, though he got that little notch between his brows that said he knew exactly what he was doing and felt bad for lying to her.

Huffing, she drew her cards to her chest and setting her elbows on the table, Hotch to her left with an amused smile drawing at his lips as he tried to catch some sleep on the way home from a case, though the sound of the two agents bickering gave him some inflight entertainment at least.

“Oh, really?” She asked, daring him to repeat himself even though saying it the first time had been hard enough, and Spencer simply nodded with a small ‘Mhm’, “Alright, smart guy, if we’re playing it like that then I’m taking this card,” Bugsy said, pulling the ace of spades he had sitting beside the joker with a pointed look on her face, “And the reason I want this one and not the one next to it is because I know that's where you put the old maid,”

Spencer swallowed, the tip of his nose turning a blush, as he grit his teeth together in annoyance, “I guess the joke is on you, Miss Prentiss. I don’t even have the old maid,” He said, forcing his voice not to quake, and he sounded somewhat believable, at least that’s what he thought until he saw her brow raise, and he knew he was fucked.

“Yeah? Government names is it?” She asked again, giving him chance to fix his error, only he doubled down with a second nod, his lips pursed. Her finger shot out to point to the joker card, where she could only see the intricate pattern that matched every other in his hand, “So this isn’t the Old Maid?”

Spencer blinked once, the two of them exchanging a heated look like they were waiting for the smallest of breaks in character, and his breathing even despite the fact it was under duress, his expression abnormally calm as the jet went entirely silent, “Yes,”

“Bullshit,” He quickly collected his cards to his lap and scrambled to shuffle them well enough that she wouldn’t guess which one was the dead card, his scowl spreading over his face.

“You cheater, you must have seen my cards, there’s no way to count where I put the joker, that is entirely by chance-” Spencer snapped back, flipping them between his long, lithe fingers as Bugsy giggled into her hand.

“Play nicely, boys and girls,” Rossi chided where he had his nose buried in the newspaper, only glancing up to see Spencer glaring at the girl who sat opposite him with a victorious smirk.

“Face it, Spencer Reid. You might be good, but I’m better.” Derek bit his lip to stop himself from laughing where he was eavesdropping on their game on the seats behind them, and he thought he might have to take it to his deathbed that he and the younger girl had swapped Spencer's cards out the second he went to the bathroom. Or maybe save it for a rainy day, when he really needed leverage against the stubborn girl and let them squabble in peace.

Bugsy didn't tell him until a year later, the week before she left for London.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #bugspence #matthew gray gubler x reader

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rabbitbandit05 · 6 months

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this has been a thought in my mind forever, but can we get a modern mizu x reader who is getting bullied or made fun of at college or whatever. rumors are spread about the reader at parties, and in general the reader is having a tough time dealing with all of the false rumors or like bullying, and mizu just FLIPS and puts matters into her own hands? :3 (if you dont write modern mizu, thats okay, i just thought this would be a fun idea getting to see a protective mizu)

Anon, thank you for this request! I genuinely had such fun doing it, and had so many ideas that I tried to capture as many as I could (so it might be a bit over the place- sorry 😬). And I in fact do write modern Mizu!

The dynamic I was going for was Nana and Hachi (from Nana- if you know them ily)- and just kinda rolled with it. I also tried to use Y/N instead of reader or ‘you’, and I think I prefer it, however am open to feedback.

Also, again, Requests are open!

Enjoy!!

Word count: 3229 words

Warnings: Bullying, rumors, drama, I’m not sure what else to warn about

“I heard that she’ll sleep with anyone who offers themselves to her”

“No, really? Well, I guess when you look like that, you get desperate for attention..”

No one besides Y/N was really sure how the rumors had started. It was as if over night, the quiet, sensitive Y/N that everyone knew was erased and replaced with a much more sinister outlook on her.

“She never struck me for the type, not with her non-existent social life-”

“I wouldn't be too sure. She doesn't associate with people on campus, but have you seen her at the parties recently? There has to be some merit to the rumors with the way she dresses.��

But Y/N could pinpoint the exact moment they had started. It started with Y/N and Mizu meeting.

Campus was huge, and completely new to Y/N, who was still trying to find her way around. Y/N was a transfer student completing her bachelors after transferring from a community college in her area. To make matters worse for the already social awkward Y/N, she came in during spring semester- the middle of the academic year. By then, new students and transfers from fall had already formed their social groups, and that left Y/N to once again, be outcasted.

However, Y/N had already made a promise to herself that she would find friends and go out more often. And so when she heard of a Valentines day party that one of the Sororities on campus was hosting for students in her year, she decided she would go. Worst case scenario would be that she left if the vibe wasn't for her.

And so the fateful evening came and Y/N found herself getting ready for the party. That was how she had met Mizu. Y/N could still remember the sight of her. She had walked into the small, cramped house that was blaring with music. She couldn't walk two steps without bumping into someone, and couldn't hear her own feet hit the floor. It was a change from her usual solitude and quietness, and becoming dizzy with all the movement and sound, Y/N made a beeline for the nearest door leading outside, which happened to be to the backyard. In the backyard, the music from inside was muffled to a tolerable noise level, and Y/N took a deep breath in and out. And then, as if by some magic, she looked up and there she was, with a red solo cup in one hand, her hair in a half up and half down style that perfectly framed her sharp features, and the bluest eyes that Y/N had ever seen. Mizu drew Y/N to her with just a single glance, and call it fate, but Y/N (for the first time in her life) had the courage to go and introduce herself to the loner who stood at the edge of some makeshift garden.

After some talking and discovering that despite Mizu being a year ahead of Y/N, they both were studying the same major. They quickly exchanged phone numbers, and when Y/N woke up the next morning, Mizu had texted her asking if she would like to grab lunch. After having lunch, time seemed to pass quickly. Summer came, and they spent it together at one of mizu’s friends family summer home (His name was Ringo, if Y/N remembered correctly). Just them and the beach. There were times when they would both dive in the water, with Mizu going underwater and staying there long enough that Y/N would panic and wonder if she drowned. Luckily, that never happened and Mizu would emerge just as Y/N would dunk her head underwater to check for her.

And the fall came, and the happy times just… ended. The leaves turned brown, the flowers started to wilt and die off and Mizu’s schedule was packed fall semester with classes that she needed to take.Aside from the occasional meet up, they mostly conversed through text. Still, Y/N looked on the bright side and smiled when she would receive a text from Mizu. That was always the best part of her day. When she would receive the text messages that asked things like “did you eat today?” “Have you done your homework or are you procrastinating again?” and the rare “I miss you” text, Y/N would giggle and kick her feet, as if it was her lover asking her these things and not her best friend. She was sure, if Mizu had asked her to follow her to the ends of the world, Y/N would have. Is this how having a first love felt?

—-

The rumors made their way through campus, particularly though Y/N’s class and her major. It had started after Y/N had received a text messages in the middle of one of her classes from Mizu, asking if she was out of class yet. Y/N quickly responded back that she had 5 more minutes but before she could send that text, she heard a voice whisper something.

“Who is so important for her to be texting in the middle of class?” Y/N ignored it, as the person who whispered it didn't need to know and she hit send.

At the end of class, before Y/N could stand up to leave, she was confronted with the girl who had whispered wondering why Y/N was texting, and a few of her friends.

“Its rude to text during a lecture. What could be so important that it couldn't wait?”

Another one pipped up “What do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“Who im dating is none of your concern.” Y/N should have just said sorry and left it at that, but after hanging out with Mizu, she had found a new confidence in herself.

“So you were texting your boyfriend?”

“Thats rude to make assumptions-” Y/N started but was quickly cut off before she could get another word in.

“Oh so it was a hookup then? Never took you for the type.”

“I wasn't-” Y/N was cut off again

“How pathetic- so desperate that you have to text in class.” And finally, after the last berate and Y/N refusing to say anything, they all left, leaving Y/N to breath out a shaky sigh and stand up on her shaking legs.

After that day, Y/N received texts from unknown numbers asking her to hook up. She ignored them, playing it off as a prank, but then rumors started to go around campus, and those were harder to ignore. Y/N wont like and say that it was easy to ignore them, but she had been bullied for almost all of middle school and throughout high school, so she had thicker skin. However, what she wasn't expecting was a text. A week after the initial spread of the rumors, Y/N received a ominous text from Mizu:

‘we need to meet up.’

Y/N stared at the text for a good 10 minutes, thinking of how to respond. Should she deny the rumors? What if the reason why Mizu wanted to meet up wasn't because of the rumors but was to catch up? That would be self-centered of Y/N to think that Mizu wanted to meet up because of the rumors. But then why else when they hadn't seen each other for weeks? It had to be about the rumors going around.

This couldn't be happening to her. The only good thing in Y/N’s life ws Mizu, she couldn't lose her too. So with shaking hands, she typed as quickly as she could.

Y/N🌸:

‘Ok, how about we meet at luna’s?’

Mizu 🌊:

‘Does tomorrow morning- 10am work for you?’

Y/N🌸:

‘Yeah! Sounds perfect.’

Y/N shut off her phone before she got the urge to write anything else. She flopped onto her bed, and buried her head into her pillow. She hoped that this meeting with Mizu would clear the air and wouldn't break their friendship apart.

——

Y/N had arrived 15 minutes early at where they were supposed to meet- a tiny coffee shop near campus that they would go to in the spring. She decided she would get in line and order both of their usuals. When both drinks came out, Y/N sat down at an empty table and waited. The wait was horrible, though she knows that she was the one who decided to arrive early, and really she would only need to wait a few more minutes. And at exactly 9:58am, Y/N looked up and saw her.

“Hey Mizu,” Y/N waved the blue-eyed girl down from where she sat. Mizu took notice of Y/N and made her way over to the table, a small smile on her face. She had her hair up in a bun and wore casual attire, which somehow she looked even better in.

“Hey Y/N- how have you been?” The question was definitely loaded and Y/N wasn't sure how to respond to it. Y/N could feel Mizu’s eyes scanning her face, waiting for some sort of reaction or sure sign. Y/N shrugged her shoulders casually.

“I've been…. Well.” She said hesitantly, and then looked up into Mizus eyes. Judging by Mizu’s glare, she did not buy that. “Actually, it’s been a bit… rough lately…”

“I bet… I’ve heard what’s been going on…” her voice was calm. There was no ill will or anger mixed in her voice.

“How??” Y/N asked as concern reached her voice. Bad scenes ran through Y/N’s head just imagining how Mizu reacted when she found out. It would be even worse if it was the mean girls and her friends who told Mizu directly.

“I overheard Taigen saying something about it…” she closed her eyes and sighed in frustration. Y/N looked down and started fidgeting her her own fingers. “Do you have anything you wanna say or add?”

“The rumors… the- they aren't true. I would never…” she stopped to compose herself before continuing “Whats being said isnt a reflection of my character. I would never do any of the things that anyone is saying.”

“It doesn't matter, thats your own personal business Y/N, and you don't have to defend yourself.” She reached her hands out to calm Y/N as she could see her friend getting worked up. Mizu had meant well with her words. She had meant to phrase it as if there was nothing wrong even if the rumors were true, but Y/N shook her head fiercely as if objecting to her statement.

“It does matter for me!” Mizu’s eyes widened at the sudden voice raise from Y/N. She had never seen Y/N so angry about anything, and it worried her. “ I care about how you think of me… and right now, all I've been hearing is how I'm some slut making her way through the campus…I don't want you to see me like that, because thats not me. I want you to know the real me.” she paused. She could feel the tears in the corner of her eyes and hated the way that no matter how many times she blinked, they wouldn't go away. She took a deep breath in before finally saying “And I just want to know one person actually believes me… I’m so tired of being told what I am and what I’m not…”

“I believe you.” Mizu firmly said after thinking for a minute.

“Y-you do?” Y/N asked, hesitant at Mizu’s answer.

“I do. Over the past few months that we’ve talked, I never took you for the type. And I like to think I'm able to read a person very well. Regardless of what anyone else says about you, I like you…” Her words rang in Y/Ns head. They were warm and truthful and honestly, it made majority of Y/N’s fears disappear. Still- Y/N stared at Mizu in shock, not sure how to respond. The way Mizu stared at her with a small smile of reassurance and the gentleness of the hand that was placed atop of hers made this feel like a more intimate moment than it originally was. Then a cough erupted from Mizu-

“I mean- I like hanging out with you and you are really cool…” she placed a hand behind her head, a little bit of an awkward pose, and Y/N giggled responding back

“I like you too.” With that, Mizu sighed out and felt reassured by the pat of Y/N's hand on the back of her own. She had never been good with affection…

“So.. Now I guess we should start talking about how to solve this situation…” Mizu prompts, and Y/N raises an eyebrow.

“Solve it? How do we do that?” Y/N asked. She had tried to ignore it and that hadn’t worked, and Y/N standing up for herself made her worry that she would be bullied and targeted even more.

“Well, there are many ways we can do that, however it all depends on who started this and why? Do you know anyone who isn't particularly keen towards you? Anyone who would want to damage you reputation?” Mizu started tapping her fingers on the table, and Y/N shrunk her shoulders in embarrassment.

And so Y/N explained it. She started from the beginning, of how she had received a text (she left out that it was mizu’s text that started this), and how some of the girls in her class had made it their priority to ruin her reputation within their field of work all because Y/N had tried to stand up for herself.

There is a quiet that hangs in the air as the tap of Mizu’s finger stops. That instills more fear in Y/N than anything that Mizu could have said to her, as the blue eyed woman just stares at her intently. And then, as if in slow motion, Y/N sees it register in Mizu’s eyes what to do, and she starts babbling, saying anything she can to talk Mizu out of whatever she had planned.

“I-its not that big of a deal Mizu, Im a big girl and can handle myself- Besides i've heard much worse sa-” But before Y/N can ramble anymore, Mizu lays a gentle hand over her mouth. Not hard enough to truly silence her, but close enough that Y/N gets the hint and stops mid-sentence.

“Shut it. Nothing you say or do will change my mind.” Yeah, Y/N knew that. Knew better than anyone that when Mizu is set in her ways, she bends others to her will to achieve her goals. And so, there was really nothing that Y/N could do to change her mind, but even then, that was a hard pill to swallow.

“So… what are you planning on doing now?” Y/N asked, after Mizu removed her hand.

“Hmm. You'll see.” She shrugged as she stood up, gathering not only her things, but Y/N’s as well, and throwing it over her shoulder.

“I don't like the way that sounds… Also- where are you taking my things???” Y/N stood as well and stared incredulously at Mizu’s back as she walked away.

“We are going to go get dinner- my treat.” Y/N couldn't argue with that, and if she did, there is no doubt Mizu would walk away with her belongings and leave her without a computer or her textbook, so Y/N followed. She couldn't stay mad though, dinner was good and it tasted better knowing Mizu believed her and still wanted to see her.

—------

The next day, Y/N attended class, with her head down low, and trying to be as noticeable as possible, though that proved harder than she thought. Throughout the class she could hear students whispering about her. She couldn't make out exactly what they were saying but she knew what they were talking about. As the class wrapped up and the first student left, a familiar figure walked through the door and made a straight line towards Y/N.

“Mizu?” The shock of seeing the woman here had Y/N speechless “How did you know that I have this class today? And that I get out at this time?” Y/N asked Mizu, as Mizu picked up her bag for her. This was becoming a regular occurrence and Y/N wasn't sure weather she liked it or made her worry for Mizu’s back (especially with all the books she carries).

“That one day we were texting and you said you got out in 5 minutes? I made it a point to remember your schedule after that day.” Y/N blushed, and just gave a small ‘thank you’. Before either of them could get away though, they were both stopped.

“Hold it right there-” Mizu turned around, murder on her face, and Y/N shivered. She had to make a mental note to never get on Mizu’s bad side. And as she turned to look at who had stopped them, the fear she had of Mizu vanished and a cold ran through her.

It was her… the one who had started the rumors about Y/N and put her in this place in the first place. She felt so many emotions, mainly ranging from anger to sadness. Mizu on the other hand, just saw red.

“So what? Are you dating now too? I didn't know that Y/N slept around with both guys and girls-” Her high pitch voice rang in Y/N’s ears, and she felt her ears go red at the question and just the thought of it. However, Mizu’s face showed no indicator that the question had affected her at all. In fact, she gave a sly grin, and before Y/N could answer the question for the both of them, Mizu responded.

“Sure we are. Actually- Im the boyfriend that is being referred to…” The girl widened her eyes, as if not believing what she was hearing. Actually, Y/N was quite sure that a majority of the class who had not left were now focusing on their conversation after hearing Mizu publicly announce her affiliation with Y/N. Not only her affiliation- BUT THAT THEY WERE DATING?! “Not that that should matter to anyone else, especially not garbage like you.” A few gasps emerged from the students. No one dared to defend the girl against Mizu. And in a swift fashion, Mizu reached an arm around Y/N’s waist and brought her closer. “And I can assure you, that whatever rumors are flying around are false-”

Before anyone could argue against Mizu, Mizu was practically dragging Y/N away.

‘M-mizu?!” Y/N whispered as they both walked away, Mizu’s hand pressed on her back feeling heavier and more prominent than it probably was. This would surely gain the attention of not only the students in her class but now the upper class, now that Mizu was involved.

The only response that Y/N received was a barely an explanation: “If they want something to talk about, we’ll both give them something to talk about.”

————-

Hello reader, this was honestly a hot mess- and definetly not grammatically correct. Still, hope I got the general idea of this across!

#mizu x reader #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #bes #headcanon

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concussed-to-pieces · 10 months

Text

Wolves At The Door; Epilogue

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes.

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our final installment! I'd like to thank you all for reading, and for having faith in me to see this through safe and sound. Never fear, you will always have your happy ending 💚 Enjoy!

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x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

8. Backslide

9. Tender Gray Light

10. Hubris’ Weight

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of mental and physical duress and sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

You hadn't been counting, but if you had, it would have been sixty-seven days. Sixty-seven days since Karl had vanished, sixty-seven days since you had heard another human's voice or even seen another person.

Sixty-seven days. You weren't counting.

Spring was fully upon the forest, buds erupting on the trees and the river swollen with runoff from the melting snow. It was one of your busiest times of the year between scavenging fallen trees, resetting the snares and sorting through your seeds to plant. You were extremely busy and you didn't think about it at all.

Not even when the Duke made his first appearance of the season.

…

“It brings me joy to see you once more, my dear! This winter was long and harsh.” The large man exclaimed, mopping his sweaty face with a handkerchief. “I'm wondering if you might assist me with a small problem. It seems someone may have suffered a bit of an incident, a turn of bad luck.”

Despite this being the thing he always said when he had found an animal for you to nurse, your heart still gave a traitorous little jump in your chest. That is, of course, until a small doe limped around the rear of the cart.

“What's wrong, my dear?” The Duke queried, and when you glanced at him his expression was strangely stoic. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, I…” You hesitated. “I guess not. What's happened to this little girl?”

“She claims that she got her fore left leg caught in the fork of a tree. The woods have been so peaceful as of late though that, aside from the pain, she wasn't scared,” the Duke mused thoughtfully, a swollen hand resting gently on the animal's head. “Apparently her leg would have been broken had she panicked. She had to remain still for several hours to get free.”

You were always entertained by the way the merchant acted like he could understand the woodland creatures he brought to you, but if nothing else he clearly had a way with them. The black horse that drew his cart, for instance, had never balked or shied away in all the times that the Duke had rattled his wares around behind the creature's head.

You squinted upwards at the Duke. “So I'm salving and wrapping her leg?”

“Indeed, a simple fix.” He bent down, giving you a look so intent it made you a little uncomfortable. “And I'll give something to you as a token of my appreciation.”

“Huh?”

He simply winked, then gestured at the doe.

You were burning with curiosity. What could he be granting you? And for free, no less! Ablaze with possibilities you didn't dare hope for, you nonetheless dutifully tended to the small scrape on the deer's thin leg.

“A familiar task for you, I'd wager.” The Duke finally spoke again, cigar smoke wafting around his head like a cloud. You gave him a confused look, quirking your brow, yet his face remained amicably bland.

You eventually settled back onto your haunches, wiping a few beads of sweat from your brow. While the weather had yet to truly warm up, the sunlight was beaming through the still-leafless trees.

The doe staggered to her feet, bleating at you loud enough to make you jump. The Duke laughed as if in reply, that large hand landing on the animal's head once more. “Off you get now, little hind. You know the way home.” He murmured, giving her another pat before she departed. “She said thank you, by the by.” The large man informed you almost absently, already searching through his pockets for another cigar.

“Oh of course,” was your dry response, making him chuckle. “What's with all this cryptic stuff, though?”

“Ah, to business.” The Duke rubbed his hands together, his rings jangling discordantly as he did. “A favorite subject. Regrettably my gift is nothing really physical, it is instead a message.” His keen eyes felt suddenly sharp, as though he was seeing through your soul itself. “That iron horse does not forget its master so easily, especially one so gracious as you, my dear.”

You stared up at him blankly. Horse? What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

The Duke seemed entertained by your bewilderment, the man grinning and leaning back on the bench of his cart. “Perhaps it would be more apt to dub him the feral mutt you've brought to heel. After all, kindness and a warm meal are lures potent enough to drag in even the most stoic of men.”

“That's not funny.” You said in a curt tone, hating that you could feel your lower lip quivering slightly. “I…that's not funny, Mr. Duke.”

He was abruptly serious. “I don't jest lightly, my dear.”

“Then why would you say that?!” You snapped, getting to your feet and dusting off the knees of your pants. “I didn't help out just so you could sit up there and make fun of me-”

“My dear I assure you, I'm as sincere as the day is long.” The Duke insisted, knocking some ash from the end of his cigar. “Call it a…perhaps a merchant's intuition. After all, it's important to have a certain level of foresight, to be able to read the ebbs and flows of the market and adjust to demand ahead of schedule. How else would I keep my clientele?”

“You're not making any sense.” You growled, now frustrated with your corpulent visitor.

He tipped his head back, expelling another waft of smoke upwards. “Have a little faith, will you? Creature of habit that you are, have faith in the unseen, the unknown.” The Duke jabbed his cigar at you. “Or continue to wallow in your discontent, counting the days that you claim mean nothing.”

You recoiled physically as if he had struck you, taking in a deep breath to deny his words. But instead all that came out was a soft, pitiful, “I miss him.”

The Duke nodded, oddly sympathetic all of a sudden. “Have faith, my dear.” He clasped your hand between his own enormous paws, eyes sincere. “The spring is upon us, and new life grows eternal in these woods. Keep your lanterns lit.”

…

Damn, it's quiet.

It echoed in his ears, a looping nothingness like static. Abruptly his heartbeat interrupted it, thudding deafeningly in his skull. What the hell had the good-for-nothing organ been doing before that?!

The beat was slow, much slower than it ought to be. His thoughts were barely there, sluggish and disjointed.

Rain hammering what was once his face, the boom of thunder and the grinding shriek of metal–

No, no, he had dealt with that already. Where was he? It was so frustrating not being able to think, to string along a process to its conclusion.

He flexed his right hand, confused by how numb it was. Pins and needles lurched down the limb in a wave, making him shudder and grunt. That shudder dislodged…something, a huge, sharp something that, from what he could struggle to put together, was what had pinned him to the wall he was currently pressed against.

It didn't seem to matter if he opened his eyes or kept them closed, either way he was effectively sightless and plagued with vertigo. Had he gone blind?

A groan rattled dryly out of his throat. The skin on his lips cracked with the exhale, and he felt liquid begin to dampen them. His tongue flicked out on reflex, the man tasting rust and dirt. Unbidden came a warm flash as if from a dream, cinnamon and brown sugar, plum spice cake.

Standing was a challenge. More of a slow, creaking shift into what could be vaguely considered an upright position. Fingers scratching at the mud around him, the man levered himself off the ground with the help of what was left of his enormous hammer. The handle of it felt more brittle than he had expected, the scent of rust filling the air when his fingers gripped down.

How long has it been?

And then, a new thought occurred, one that seemed to fully shock him to life. Have I just been dreaming this entire time?

Had you just been some vivid hallucination? Had the Duke even scraped him off the ground and brought him to safety, or had he just crawled back into his burrow to die once the saga of he and Winters’ fracas had played out?

Was any of it real?

The ground squelched wetly beneath whatever was left of his boots as he staggered forward, but it also crunched in a grim manner. He didn't want to think too hard on that, instead focusing on sending out pulses of his power. He couldn't truly see, but at least he knew where metallic objects were in proximity to him and he could use that knowledge to keep from toppling over.

He wasn't certain how long he meandered through the sunless wreckage. Was it hours, or weeks? Slowly, painfully, one shuffling foot in front of the other, he continued on aimlessly. He wondered to himself if this was how earthworms felt, wriggling through the cold earth in search of sustenance and never deigning to see the sunlight.

He barely even noticed when it started to become brighter around him, reasoning that he must simply be imagining it when faintly from far, far above came a distant dawn chorus of birdsong. The man paused, straining his eyes to see in the dim light, and he could only just make out a faint glow in the distance. His legs, all but atrophied from disuse, protested mightily when he tried to up his pace, so he was forced to maintain the speed of a snail moving through cold molasses.

It was a long, hard trek. The rubble-laden floor angled slightly upwards to the…hole? cave in?, leaving the man to simply flounder and scrape his shins on the detritus he was too weary to lift his legs over.

As the light strengthened, he came to the sudden realization that he was all but naked. What was left of his clothing was in ribbons, caked with ichor, old blood and mold. His boots seemed to be coming apart at the seams, blooming white patches of mold eating into the remnants of the leather. He then shivered as the first bracing breeze of the outside world graced his lungs, and the coughing spasm it startled out of him seemed to dislodge more than it should have.

When he finally was able to straighten back up, his spine settled into place, releasing an earsplitting pop! as it did. Relief flooded his body, the pain dulling to a manageable throb. He took a few more tentative breaths, noting as he did how much brighter his surroundings had become. Had he been walking through the night, and just reached the entrance at dawn?

It doesn't really matter, he decided, squaring his shoulders. The only thing that matters is…

“I have to go back.” He grimaced at the rasp of his own voice, swallowing and trying again. “I have to…make sure it wasn't all in my head.”

I have to see them. And when I do, I…

His heart lurched painfully in his chest. What if it had all just been a dream? Some wild wish-fulfillment of a gentler, kinder existence while his body slowly repaired itself after his glorious defeat at the hands of Ethan Winters?

His empty stomach felt like it was caving in, fear and resignation warring in his gut, but after a moment of hesitation he shook the hair out of his eyes and stepped out into the cool yellow light of a spring morning.

The first thing he noticed was no humanoid footprints, to his absolute delight. No wolf prints, no footprints, nothing. At least he hadn't failed in that regard. Unless he had imagined it and those fucks who put up the fence had also been the ones to eradicate the lycans and their pets.

Gods, his head hurt. The sun, just barely over the horizon now, seemed like it was burning his retinas clean out of his skull. He shaded his eyes with his palm, grimacing in pain. He would go check the bulkhead he had entered through, he decided. Check the bulkhead, see if it even existed, then check for fresh tracks there. And then…and then…

He slumped against the rubble of the caved-in factory wall, running a hand over his face. His facial hair was extremely unruly and matted with grime, and he doubted the rest of him looked any better. Once he departed the village, put some distance between himself and this…malodorous valley, he would have to clean himself up. If you were real, if he hadn't imagined you in a fit of self-indulgent madness, he doubted you would be overly impressed with him showing up half-dead, reeking of stale sweat, mold and wet dog.

To say nothing of the fact that his clothing was in tatters.

It was a slow, zig-zagging walk back to where he had descended into the factory previously. At least he knew for certain that the bulkhead existed, the man reasoned with himself while he scrutinized the ground around the bulkhead that hadn't caved in. Again, nothing. No fresh marks, no scrapes, no scuffs. Not so much as a sparrow's tiny claw marks graced the ground. Seemingly the local wildlife gave the valley a wide berth, which made sense. Between Miranda's crow forms and the various nightmarish denizens of this place, it was only logical for normal creatures to avoid it.

He straightened up, squinting against the sunlight once more. He could only just make out that ridiculous fence way off by the outskirts of the valley, and if he remembered the fence…

The man gripped the remains of the haft of his hammer and began walking. It had only taken him a few hours of running to get here before, but after his…rest, it would seem that running wasn't in the cards for today. Or ever again, if the screaming in his calves was anything to go by. So walking it was, doing his best to ignore the tremor in his legs as he went.

He mainly left his attention on the ground, familiar enough with the valley that he could afford to do so. Back around the swamp he went, nearly losing the sole of one of his boots to the sucking mud that surrounded the area.

He had to get to you. He had to know whether you were real. The fear and hope cycled in his head, back and forth, round and round, and he wondered hazily if he had snapped (or snapped more).

Climbing the rise felt like an impossible task and yet eventually he stood at the top, sweating and panting but there.

Without an ounce of finesse, Karl Heisenberg gracelessly tore open a section of the fence and made his escape out into the forest, never once looking back at the village that had been his home for so many years. No, all that his thoughts could stay latched onto was the memory of plum spice cake and the way you had looked at him that night.

He had to get to you. He had to make sure that you were real. And…

He had to apologize.

He had to make this right.

If you hated him, that was fine! It was your right. He would hate him. What he had done was stupid. You made him feel something that he didn't understand, and for someone as self-assured as Karl, that was terrifying.

Cut them off at the source. More like run from a problem he didn't think he could handle, like some cowardly bitch. The man snarled at himself in discontent, his pace picking up to some sort of lumbering jog. Deer fled before him, nimble bodies flitting through the undergrowth as he did his best to retrace his steps. At least he had the river to follow, if nothing else.

Speaking of which.

Karl knelt beside the rushing water, grateful that he couldn't see his reflection. He had a decent imagination, he didn't need to confirm it.

It was cold as ice, the chill of it taking his breath away. Karl took another breath and shoved his head underwater, closing his eyes to keep…whatever was in his hair out of them. The man then flipped the soggy hair back over his head, finger-combing it away from his face.

Karl proceeded to drink greedily from the river, the frigid water a shock and blessing all in one. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was, the man finally sloppily wiping his mouth and beard and then getting to his feet once more. The handle of his hammer remained on the ground beside the river, forgotten, as Heisenberg continued onward along the bank.

He felt like he was actually awake now, like he'd emerged from some kind of dream (or nightmare) into these woods. His footing grew more sure, atrophy fading as his muscles warmed up both from use and from the strengthening sunlight streaming through the trees.

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The day was so young, the sky overhead a vibrant blue and the moss beneath his boots a lush, fluffy green. It was honestly beautiful and Karl had no idea how he had never seen it before. Had he been wandering through life with his eyes shut until now?

No, he thought firmly, he had only begun to open them when he met you. You had done that. You had been worth it, had been worth him taking actual notice of the world around him.

You had to be real. You must be. None of the other phantoms he had encountered in his life had any substance to them, but you…

Heisenberg clenched his fists, urging his body to move faster.

…

Keep your lanterns lit.

And so you did. The Duke had left you with a physical gift despite his claims to the contrary; a sturdy metal lantern with a large cutout shaped like a horse. Every night as the sun was setting, you went out to where it hung on your front gate and lit the candle inside it, which, curiously, never seemed to get any shorter. You, admittedly, didn't have much faith, you just assumed the Duke had been trying to comfort you with some platitude.

It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. You would take what you could get. You often lingered out by the fence for a while, telling yourself you weren't really listening as you strained your ears to hear anything, anything at all. You knew it was futile and you weren't actually expecting anything to come of it, yet still you persisted in wasting time by the front gate.

With the lengthening days you were occasionally out past dusk, cutting wood or finishing house repairs. On one such day, a floorboard on the porch that had begun creaking in the winter finally annoyed you enough that you decided to attempt to fix it.

You spent most of the day carefully foraging drips of pine pitch from nearby trees, intending to make a batch of pine tar in the evening. Board couldn't creak if it couldn't move, right?

You set up your highly-technical ‘refining station’, which definitely wasn't just an old beans can nestled down into the dirt beneath your fire pit, a slightly-larger tomato can with holes poked into the bottom of it resting on top. Then, after dropping all your resin in the upper can, you carefully built the fire up, placing a rock over the top of the can to act as a lid. The melting process could take a few hours, depending on the fire, so it was after sundown when you began to cautiously sift through the charcoal. You would need a few good, clean pieces to mix in with the now-filtered resin, in order to ensure some pliability remained.

You had interrupted the task at sunset, moving in an automatic way from the firepit to the fence to light the lantern. You could see the glow of it now out of the corner of your eye, even while you pored over the char.

Maybe it does nothing but make me feel a little less alone.

You stared down at your gloved hands full of blackened wood, blinking furiously when tears began to blur your vision. You continued, albeit a bit more clumsily, to separate out the cleanest chunks of charcoal, doing your best to make a neat little pile.

A boot abruptly landed squarely in the middle of the pile and you couldn't help the terrified noise that left your mouth, scrambling to try and get to your feet. Before you could, though, the person dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around you, trapping you in place. Wiry unkempt facial hair scuffed your cheek while you just sat there, frozen stiff with fear.

“Sugar.”

Karl.

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt his entire body shudder. “I couldn't remember if you were real.” His voice cracked. “I followed the light, but I couldn't–I'm…I'm so sorry, sugar. I'm so, so sorry, I don't know if I can ever make it up to you, I-I just-”

You silently returned his hug, sure that you were leaving charcoal stains on his clothes but not able to find it in you to care all that much. Karl stopped trying to speak after a few moments, the man sagging against you with his forehead resting on your shoulder. “Tell me in the morning, okay?” You whispered, relieved when he nodded. “Let's just get you inside.”

It wasn't much of a struggle to get him indoors, and he bedded down on his old cot without so much as a peep of complaint. He was filthy, but now wasn't the time for your hygiene regiment. He was clearly stripped for energy and worn out. Better to let this particular sleeping dog lie, at least for now.

…

Karl woke suddenly, whatever dream he had been having rapidly fading from his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, momentarily perplexed. Pine truss beams running lengthwise, the pattern of knots and wood grain achingly familiar.

Sugar.

He shoved himself into a sitting position, body still heavy from sleep, and saw you.

You weren't really doing anything all that impressive. The stove door was ajar and you were busily tending the fire. But at that moment, Karl was certain he had never seen a more beautiful sight. “Sugar,” he rasped, voice gruff and drowsy.

You turned to look at him, your eyes softening upon meeting his own. “Hey, Karl.”

Oh, he could fucking cry. Heisenberg huffed out a breath, feeling his heart twist in his chest. You lugged over the basin of water that had been sitting next to the stove (maybe to keep it warm?), toting a washcloth and the bar of soap as well. “Talk with me once you've sponged off.” You said, not unkindly. “You kinda’ smell like BO and dead animal.”

“I doubt it's a kind of level of smell.” Karl admitted wryly, making you snicker and nod. “Sorry about all this. You tend to smell like death if you're dead for a little while, after all.”

“I don't know if I would call two months and some change a ‘little while’. Also, dead?” You raised an eyebrow.

Karl stared at you. Two months. Over two months. Gods almighty.

You, seeming to register that the news was a shock to him, patted his knee. “Y'know what, worry about it later. Focus on the first thing and we can go from there. I'll make us some lunch.”

“Lunch?”

You nodded, turning your wrist so he could see your watch. It was indeed a little after one in the afternoon. “Get washed up,” you reiterated softly.

So Karl attempted to do so, flushing a little once he'd stripped and realized just how dirty he actually was. “Sugar?” He called, using the remains of his clothes to cover his groin just in case you turned around. Sure, sure you had seen him entirely naked before, but…

From the kitchen you replied, “yeah?” He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that you didn't look at him.

“I'm just going to throw myself in the river. I don't think this glorified bucket is going to cut it.” He reasoned.

“Okay, you know where the towels are. Just make sure you go downstream a ways.”

The freezing water in the river was a far cry from the lukewarm comfort that the basin had held, but Karl was a little more certain in his cleanliness once he emerged, teeth chattering and body pink from scrubbing, from the pool that swirled and eddied alongside your far fenceline. Spreading out the worn towel once he had mostly dried himself off, Heisenberg took a moment to lay back on the riverbank and examine the new scars.

The cadou had healed him, of course, but now he was riddled with scars. He'd prided himself previously on his ability to guard quickly, to be able to adjust during a fight and use his powers to shield himself. But that many lycans, vârcolaci, in essentially total darkness…

He knew he was lucky to be alive at all, and that he shouldn't be so unsettled by a few new marks. He still couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had never worried about his looks, it had never crossed his mind. His confidence in his abilities was so all-encompassing he hadn't considered the possibility, but what if you had only been attracted to his looks? You had vocalized interest in his appearance, after all.

Karl frowned, rubbing a hand over his face and noting even more unfamiliar raised areas. Maybe he would feel better once he got his facial hair under control. Once he looked like himself again, or some sort of approximation of it. First things first though, he would need to beg some clothes off of you.

…

You tore into a thick slice of bread, slathered with a little of the precious squirrel fat you had left and a healthy sprinkle of salt. Karl had vanished into your bedroom with the haircare kit, stating that he “felt more human, but could use a shape-up”.

He looked much too good for someone you had convinced yourself to be mad at. Truthfully your confusion and anger at being…well, abandoned, in your own terms, had ebbed substantially upon his arrival. He had seemed–breakable wasn't quite the right word. Maybe fragile? He had clearly been through hell, if nothing else. At that moment, you had decided to be merciful. You would hear him out. If you didn't like his answer, you could always show him the door.

Another bite was crammed into your mouth, and you focused on chewing furiously before your thoughts could wander any further. Cool it, hotshot, you scolded yourself mentally. Try to be normal about this.

Once Karl emerged from your room he gingerly settled into the seat across from you at the table. Wearing some borrowed, slightly ill-fitting clothes and sporting some uneven edges to his facial hair, the man didn't exactly cut an imposing figure.

God, you had missed him so much.

To your surprise he entirely ignored the food in front of him, instead reaching across the table and clasping your free hand between his own. The look he leveled at you made you want to break eye contact, but stubbornly, you refused. He owed you this much, you reminded yourself with more than a touch of irritation.

“I'm sorry.” His voice was still raspy, but it seemed to be from disuse. “I…sugar I fucked up. I own that. I was scared.”

You gaped at him, thrown entirely off balance. The man who had faced down a horde of lycans, the man who could control metal with a look, a gesture–

Scared?

He wasn't done clearly, his grip on your hand tensing as he leaned in with an earnest expression. “You deserved better than what I did. You were–gods, you were so kind to me. Opened your home to me when I didn't know who I was. Opened yourself to me.”

Were you blushing?! Dammit!

“I know we didn't mean fuckall to one another, I get that it was…I guess a convenience, using each other for mutual benefit. But I-” Heisenberg paused, leaving you reeling. It was true though, wasn't it? Convenience. No emotions involved in it. “-I don't know what the hell happened.” He finally admitted, his voice soft. “I don't know when it changed for me. Whether it even changed at all, or if it was always like that and I was just ignoring it. I'm, uh, not exactly experienced here, and I guess I can blame it on that.”

“‘Experienced’ how?” You managed to ask, a hysterical giggle escaping you when he stuttered and fell silent. “Seriously?”

“This isn't how I-look, sugar, I figured me dying, me wiping out all those lycan freaks and probably dying in the process–I mean it wasn't great, but I thought I could at least be useful. I'm not…good.” His voice faded to an awkward mumble. “Good, like how you are.”

One thing at a time. You could process that later. “All the lycans?” The woods had been peaceful the last few months. You hadn't really thought…damn.

Karl nodded, his jaw set in a grim line.

“You…You really thought you were gonna’ die?” You felt a little nauseous when he nodded again. “How? You're so tough!”

“I'd never fought the horde on their turf. They holed up in my factory after-” he gestured at himself. “-everything.” The man sighed heavily, rotating his shoulder. “Brought the house down on top of them and me. Not sure how long I fought them before then.”

“You've got to be shitting me.” You planted your palms on the table, shoving your chair out behind you from the force as you stood. “You went back there and nearly got yourself killed-”

“Yes.” Heisenberg cut you off. “I did, sugar, and I'd do it again.”

“Why though?” You exclaimed, incredulous.

“You really don't know?” He asked, sounding just as incredulous. “You try coming to a realization like I did when you're fucking–balls deep in someone!” His eyes widened, the man dropping his head to thud against the table after a moment of stunned silence. “Dammit,” he snarled, his voice muffled.

“W-what realization?” You knew you should probably leave it alone. It was an invasive question and, despite the intimacy the two of you had shared, an apology was already on your lips when it was cut off by a loud groan from Karl.

“That I–that you–” the man floundered, then suddenly jerked his head up to fix you with an appropriately-intense look. “I think I love you.”

What.

What?!

Your shoulders dropped, hands slack on the tabletop. You stared at Karl, but all he did was stare back at you, his gaze one of weary resignation.

I think I love you.

“S-So–” Gods, when had your mouth become so dry?! “So you don't know?” You half-squeaked, half-choked on the words.

“I've never felt this way before,” was his blunt reply. “I can only infer from the evidence.” He didn't seem thrilled about the circumstances, but maybe that could also be chalked up to his lack of experience.

“Is it…are you okay with it?”

Karl's brow furrowed, and then he offered you a slow, firm nod. “...yeah. Had a lot of time to think during my walk back. Even if you…I mean, if you think I'm gross-looking now, that's okay. I'd understand.”

You blinked, entirely baffled. Gross? Sure, he had a few new scars on his face. They only stood out to you because the tissue was still pink, unlike the silvery lines that had littered his visage before. But that wasn't gross, not to you anyway.

Karl was still talking however, and it seemed that he was picking up speed. “Sugar, I showed up, an unknown, a starving wolf at your door and yet you showed me kindness, even if it was just a favor for that fat bastard at first. You fed me from your own damn plate, let me take comfort in you.” His words hitched momentarily when he continued, “I was just so–so twisted and broken, I didn't understand that you could offer with open hands. I didn't understand what you had given me and then I realized as I was throwing myself at the lycan hive that…I was an idiot. It wasn't that I wanted to die, I wanted to live! I'd never wanted to live so much in my damn life, so I could get back to you, so I could apologize, so I could–” Heisenberg's fists clenched, the man soldiering on doggedly, “so I could tell you how I…felt. How I think I feel.”

“So you could tell me that you love me.” You were reeling.

“Yes.” His broad shoulders caved a little, the man shrinking into himself. “And now you know. Now I know. But I don't know what to do. I've never…this hasn't happened before.”

You picked up your glass of water and drained it in one long gulp, attempting to buy time while your brain ran through a million possibilities at once. Your main takeaway, however, was simple. He loves me. A warm sensation flooded your body, tingling down to your fingertips. He loves me. “Want me to offer some input?” You asked, your steps light as you rounded the table.

Heisenberg nodded dully, his eyes fixed on the bowl of stew in front of him. You gently brought your hands up to cup his chin, tilting his face so you could meet his gaze. You found no regret in that stare, only apprehension, which was immensely heartening.

“Next time you have a realization like that, talk to me.” You said in a sweet tone, the ‘loving’ pat you gave him on the cheek not quite a smack. “Don't pull something like that again…and I'll let you stay with me.”

“You…what, seriously?” Karl demanded, his eyes widening. “You'll let me stay here? Even after-”

“Don't push your luck,” you warned, blowing a raspberry at him when he began to laugh incredulously. “This isn't a vacation, after all! You'll need to fix holes in the roof, help me with the supplies every year, check the traps-”

Karl swept you up in a hungry kiss, effectively cutting off your eternal to-do list. “That all sounds wonderful, sugar.” He murmured against your lips. “Let me finish lunch and I'll get right on it.”

Thoroughly flustered, you stammered out in protest, “i-i-it's not going to be easy, Karl! Don't agree to this unless you understand the burden of responsibility you're taking on.”

“I do.” He insisted around his first mouthful of bread. “I pr’mise.”

…

He wasn't certain where your underwear had gone, but he was immensely grateful for its absence. You leaned forward, taking his dick out of your mouth for a second to catch your breath and Karl forced your knees to slide out on either side of him with his forearms so he could draw his tongue along your cunt. His thumbs spread you open, the man rumbling when he felt your breath hitch. Then, Karl delved his tongue into you, making you moan and whimper around his dick while he slowly, slowly ate you out.

Karl could feel his heartbeat in his neck when your thighs suddenly snapped shut around his head, hips rocking back and forth as you ground yourself against his mouth. Finally, someone who could be as greedy as he was.

His own hips bucked upwards, driving his cock into your throat mercilessly while you continued to attempt to crush his skull. Your thighs were trembling, body undulating helplessly. All Karl could do was urge you onward and that's exactly what he did, his voice a low burr against your cunt as he demanded that you come for him. It didn't matter that you'd already come before, it didn't matter that you were still sloppy and fucked-out from his previous, extremely enthusiastic efforts. Karl wanted more and he knew you did too.

Your pelvis lurched abruptly, breath coming in sharp little gasps as you began to climax. The former Lord growled in satisfaction, clasping his hands up over your thighs to pin you where you were as you rode out your orgasm.

“Mmm, told you that you had one more in you,” he hummed, grinning when you whined your annoyance at him. “Shh, no complaining sugar, or I'll wring another one out of you for fun.” As if to prove his point Karl slid a finger into you, using it to massage your still-trembling walls. You whimpered but made no attempt to wriggle away from him, so Heisenberg simply carried on gently stroking his finger in and out of your entrance. “One more, sugar, c'mon, match me.” The man teased, his eyes half-lidding when you took his dick in hand once more.

“You're ridiculous-” You panted. He could hear the laughter in your words despite your evident breathlessness. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sugar.” Karl patted your leg, guiding you to turn around and slide back down to straddle his thighs. He then sat up slightly, meeting you halfway in a hungry kiss. “I love you,” he sighed, finding his eyes still searching your own for reassurance.

But then you smiled at him, knocking your forehead gently against his own. “And I love you, Karl.”

I love you.

“‘Course you do,” Karl breathed, half to himself. You rolled your eyes at him and your wry chuckle was music to his ears, as was your singsong reply.

“Of course I do.”

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #slow burn #epilogue

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honeydazai · 2 years

Text

Dazai/reader -> recording

content: nsfw, dom Dazai, semi public sex, recording, fingering, degradation, exhibitionism | reblogs & comments appreciated!

~1,9k words | ao3 link | kinktober masterlist

You assumed there would have been some survival instinct that prevented you from making deals with the devil, and yet you found yourself right by Dazai's side once again, his arm curled around your waist.

His hand lingered just a tad too low for it to be an entirely innocent touch; your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as he guided you away from the crime scene, his smile sly.

Ranpo seemed to have solved the case already, anyway.

No one was going to notice you two disappearing into some shady alleyway.

Right?

As if somehow reading your mind, Dazai glanced at you. “You're not getting shy all of a sudden, are you, bella?” His voice had a teasing lilt to it; the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smirk.

You raised your shoulders in a shrug, uncertainty bleeding into your features. “I don't know, maybe we shouldn't—, I mean, we're here to support Ranpo, aren't we? We should just wait until we're home.”

“But where's the fun in that?”

You did your best not to flinch as, suddenly, his hand slipped underneath your blouse, lithe fingers pulling lightly at the lace of your bra.

“Besides, this way, you might not be supporting Ranpo, but you get to help me out in a special case. Isn't that nice?”

“I—, yeah. I guess so.”

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it, love. I promise I'll even be the one to explain to Kunikida where we ran off to.”

And, well, when he phrased it like that, who were you to protest?

Besides, you would have been a liar had you claimed that arousal wasn't already licking at you, having bloomed hotly in your abdomen ever since Dazai had begun to whisper terrible terrible ideas, promises, into your ear.

Despite having been in public, with Ranpo and some police officers mere meters away from you both, he didn't seem to have any issues with telling you in great detail just how he intended to make you come later; on his tongue and on his fingers until you were all but sobbing with pleasure, tears dripping down your flushed face.

Just the mere thought had you squeezing your thighs together in need and, while you had thought that Dazai, being the tease he was, had remained entirely unaffected by his own fantasies, that assumption was quickly proven untrue.

If he wasn't just as pent-up as you were, there would have been no reason for him to suggest a quick fuck in some dirty alleyway, after all.

“Alright, fine. Let's just be quick about it before anyone comes looking for us.”

Dazai chuckled, the noise soft. “Of course, bella.”

Mere moments later, you found yourself pinned face-first to a wall, the bricks cold against your skin, and you most likely would have complained about the more than uncomfortable position if it hadn't been for Dazai's fingers, which were quick to push against your cunt through the fabric of your panties.

“My, my, you're so wet already”, Dazai cooed, his voice sultry as he rubbed over your folds; you gave a low moan in response, your eyes fluttering closed. “That's quite naughty, bella. We were in public until just now, you know?”

You gasped as his thumb drew lazy circles around your clit, back arching on instinct despite the sensation still being dulled by your underwear. “Dazai—”

As if on cue, Dazai pulled away just a little, his fingers hooking underneath your panties and pulling to let them snap back against your skin. “Let's get rid of these, yes?”

God, you felt breathless already.

With a nod, you stepped out of your underwear and, before you were able to think about where to put it for now, Dazai all but snatched it from your hands, a smirk that never meant anything good on his lips.

“You won't be needing these for a while, bella.” Your panties vanished into one of his pockets, pink lace only barely peeking out, and your cheeks flushed with heat. His eyes sparkled with amusement while he flipped your skirt up, all but exposing you in damn public, though, luckily, no one seemed to be around. “Now, where were we?”

Before you had any chance to respond, one foot of his nudged your legs further apart, his grip on your hip keeping you balanced as you were forced to rest more of your weight against the wall.

Your breath caught in your throat when his free hand cupped your cunt from behind and, when he purposefully rubbed over your throbbing clit, a noise that sounded more like a sob than anything else left your throat.

“God, Dazai—”

“Quiet, love. We're not at home, you know?” he chastised, mirth dripping from his voice as two thin fingers were pushed into you with a wet squelching noise. Your thighs trembled. “If you're too loud, one of those pesky police officers might just come to investigate the noise he heard. You wouldn't want that, right?”

Despite the way you quickly shook your head in response — as much as you were able to anyway, with your cheek pressed to the wall —, you clenched around his fingers on instinct, wet walls pulsing, and Dazai chuckled.

“Oh? So you'd like that after all? My, how terribly naughty.” His breath was warm against your neck as he leaned forward, his lips ghosting over your throat in a mockery of a kiss. “I have no interest in sharing you, however. Not today at least. So try and be quiet, yes, love? Otherwise I'll have to gag you.”

He snickered as you tightened around the digits instinctively. Entirely unhelpfully, your mind provided you with the thought of him forcing your own panties into your mouth and, God—, you really had to get a grip.

“Please”, you whined, voice breathy, “Come on, Dazai, stop teasing—”

At this point, your arousal was sticking to your inner thighs with how much you were gushing, your clit was aching with need, and, despite not being able to see it, you just knew Dazai's smirk widened at your plea.

“Ah, well, if you ask me this nicely, belladonna; how could I possibly deny you?”

Moments later, after he crooked his fingers inside of you on purpose once, rubbing over that one special spot, he pulled the digits out, only to push his dick into you a moment later.

The fat head of it spread you open, bullying its way into your cunt, and, luckily, you were wet and needy enough to be able to handle the stretch even without lube.

Dazai gave a low moan as he bottomed out inside of you, narrow hips flush with your ass, and you whimpered; your back arched into an elegant curve. God, he always filled you out so well, and you rolled your hips back against him, trying to get more stimulation, more pleasure. Needy.

“You really are impatient today, love.” Dazai's chuckle was mocking enough for your face to grow hot. His fingers feathered over your spine, the touch barely there yet everything you were able to focus on apart from how your chest was heaving. “Usually, you would have never agreed to doing this out here. What did it for you, I wonder? When I told you I want you to sit on my face that badly? Or the fact that I said just that in public?”

He already knew the answer and so did you; your high-pitched mewl was enough of a response. Seconds later, he pulled out only to thrust into you again, setting a hard and fast rhythm so very unlike his usual teasing pace; you cried out each time the tip of his cock hit that one spot inside of you, causing your sight to blur.

“Dazai”, you choked out, your voice shaking just as much as your body was, “Fuck, Dazai—”

One of his hands suddenly slipped underneath your skirt yet again, rubbing steadily over your clit; the direct stimulation had you flinching, though there was nowhere for you to go, not with the wall and Dazai's larger body caging you in from both sides.

“Ah, you're so tight, bella.” The raspy note to Dazai's voice made you shiver with pleasure. His following chuckle made you all but burn up from the inside out, liquid heat underneath your skin. “It's almost like you're sucking me in. Quite a greedy cunt you've got there.”

The words were terribly humiliating; tears welled up in your eyes from embarrassment alone. Despite wanting to respond, the only coherent thought you managed to think of was Dazai's name, which you were steadily choking out, your voice high-pitched.

Steady circles were drawn around your aching clit, feeling like overwhelmingly much and too little at once, though, seconds later, Dazai paused in his movements.

Suddenly, there was an odd clicking noise; it took you a few seconds to place it, though once you did, a whine caught in your throat. Your brows furrowed into an unhappy frown as Dazai snickered, mirth all but dripping from his voice; just like your arousal was dripping down your thighs, sticky and wet.

“Smile for the camera, yes, belladonna?” he crooned, smirk evident in his tone alone, and, God; instead of doing just that, you were quick to hide your face in the crook of your arm, though Dazai's triumphant chuckle told you he already got a good shot of your fucked out expression.

“Dazai—, don't be a jerk, don't, ah—”

“Oh, quit whining, love. It's not your face I'm filming right now, that's for sure.” Dazai merely laughed in response, breathy and low.

His dick twitched inside of you as you whimpered again, the noise pitiful. His pace was slower than before, though he at least kept thrusting into you; a quick glance over your shoulder revealed that, now, his phone was angled between your legs, and you clenched around him on instinct at how terribly lewd that was.

The thought of him catching everything on camera — how wet you were, how needy, how your cunt was all but speared open on his dick and what embarrassing noises steadily fell from your lips — caused heat to lick at your insides, the thought humiliating yet terribly arousing, and Dazai chuckled.

“You take me so well, don't you, bella?” he crooned, fingertips ghosting over the curve of your hip. “Such a good girl. It's like you're made to take my cock.”

Suddenly, he once more rubbed over your clit, his thumb pressing down on it, and you cried out as you came, your sight blurry.

Moments later, Dazai reached his own orgasm, though you were too out of it to notice anything but him eventually pulling out and buckling his trousers back up.

Another clicking noise; you didn't even have the energy to protest as Dazai snapped some more pictures of your cunt, now loose and gaping around nothing. Pearly globs of cum dripped out of you and down your thighs; your face flushed with heat.

You vaguely noticed that your skirt was smoothed out again; your legs felt unstable as you stood upright again, clutching onto his arm for support.

“That lovely video will certainly keep me company during lonely nights.” Dazai's smirk was cheeky. Then, he reached into his pocket, only to spin a piece of pink lace around his finger. You all but sputtered at the sight. “Ah, and this will too, of course.”

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blueberry-cheese-pizza · 3 months

Text

The Double 墨雨云间 book scene- ML's first step into the 'play'

This scene is too long, so I can't post the Chinese version for this part even though it's written beautifully. The setting: Jiang Li and her uncle face unexpected danger in the woods behind Tong Xiang after rescuing her father's (Xue Huai Yuan) loyal staff from the mines. Ambushed by two groups of assassins, one sent by Princess Yong Ning and the other by Jiang Li's stepmother, Madam Ji, they become separated. Jiang Li finds herself confronting Madam Ji's deadly assassins alone in the dark forest. Guess who appears?

“Second Miss, there’s no need to look around for another way out,” the leader said with a peculiar malevolence. “Madam ordered us to use every method to torture you before killing you. But you’re so pure and lovely, wise and brave, we wouldn’t want to use any terrible methods on you. How about something more... comfortable?”

The surrounding men laughed sickeningly in agreement. Jiang Li didn’t need to guess what despicable ideas were running through their minds.

For an instant, she felt as if she were back in the Shen family’s courtyard, the same feelings of humiliation and rage that had consumed her in those months of near-death. These men were dredging up her most vile memories.

Her eyes darkened, and she sneered, “Do you think you’ve already won? Do you really believe I have no other way out?”

The leader laughed again. “I know you’re trying to buy time, but Master Ye is already injured, held up by Feng Yutang’s men. And your horse moved too quickly for him to follow. He doesn’t know this forest, and he won’t find you. Right now, it’s just us and you.”

His arrogance was blatant. Jiang Li had led three assassins into the swamp because she knew the terrain, but even if Ye Mingyu escaped the assassins, he wouldn’t know where to find her—Tong Xiang was entirely unfamiliar to him.

But Jiang Li merely smiled, “Who said I was waiting for Master Ye?”

The man was stunned.

Her voice, clear and laced with amusement, echoed through the forest.

"Lord Duke, after watching the performance for so long, how about coming out to meet us?"

Her clear voice echoed through the forest at night. The moon hung low, almost reclining on the treetops, illuminating Jiang Li's delicate face. Her eyes were bright and clear, devoid of the panic one might expect in a dire situation. Instead, she appeared relaxed and clear-minded, as if she had everything under control.

The men in black observed her, and their leader chuckled, "Second Miss, why the pretense..." Before he could finish his sentence, a soft laugh emerged from the depths of the forest.

A crimson figure gradually stepped out of the darkness. Under the moonlight, the darker it got, the more magnificent his red attire appeared.

The moonlight shone on the black-gold butterflies embroidered on the hem of his robe, making them seem ready to take flight, their beauty almost sinister in its extreme. Ji Heng walked out of the night at an unhurried pace, holding a gold-threaded folding fan, a smile playing on his lips. "Nothing escapes you, does it?"

Ji Heng’s appearance immediately drew the attention of the assassins hired by Ji Shuran. Several of them pointed their swords at Ji Heng. Jiang Li’s earlier call of “Lord Duke” had not escaped the assassins’ notice.

Ji Heng's appearance was overwhelmingly striking, almost unnaturally so. His sudden presence in the dark dense forest made him seem like a bewitching forest spirit, exuding a dangerous allure. Perhaps it was their assassin's intuition about danger that made the leader in black ask Ji Heng, “Who might Your Excellency be?”

Ji Heng, however, didn't acknowledge them. Smiling, he looked at Jiang Li and said, “Second Miss, your acting skills have become more impressive.”

“If the show isn't captivating, how could it attract your attention?” Jiang Li glanced at the leader in black, her smile widening. “My lord, they are pointing their swords at you.”

Ji Heng was the kind of person who wore a perpetual smile, yet beneath that facade lay a ruthless and cold-hearted nature. His arrogance made the act of pointing a sword at him an outright insult. The leader of the black-clad men caught a glimpse of Ji Heng's gaze and felt an inexplicable urge to step back. His fingers involuntarily tightened around his sword, sensing that something was terribly amiss. Ji Heng paid them no mind, continuing to smile at Jiang Li.

"Second Miss, why attempt to divert trouble towards me? I have told you, I am not a part of the play."

"After watching so many of my performances, would you simply let this one go? If I were to die here today, would you not regret never seeing another of my plays?" she asked, looking up at him.

Her face was fair, her eyes bright and lively, filled with endless appeal. When she spoke in a soft, pitiful tone, even a deity might be moved.

However, Ji Heng was no deity; he was a demon crueler, more callous than any deity. He merely watched Jiang Li with an amused expression and said, "It’s a pity, but I will not be a part of the play."

The look of pleading in Jiang Li's eyes vanished instantly. It was hard to believe that the captivating demeanor she had displayed could be withdrawn so quickly.

Jiang Li felt a twinge of annoyance. In her past life as Xue Fangfei, she had a face that could launch a thousand ships. While she didn't think much of it, her beautiful appearance often smoothed her way through conflicts. People would often relent upon seeing her face, not pursuing matters further. A beauty only needed to pout a little, and everything would fall into place. Though she disliked using such tactics, Xue Zhao often chided her for wasting her looks, saying she could have easily gained a reputation as a femme fatale.

Now, she found herself forced to play the part of the pitiable and lovable, but it seemed that her charms were lost on Ji Heng. His response was as clear and unaffected as ever, leaving her deflated. Ji Heng continued to smile at her, speaking lightly as if he saw nothing wrong in his decision to let her fend for herself. His long, narrow phoenix eyes, beneath which a crimson mole added even an air of seduction, glimmered invitingly in the night.

The leader of the assassins seemed to come to his senses at this moment. He addressed Ji Heng first, "Since Your Excellency has no conflict with us, this will be simple."

He then turned to Jiang Li, saying, "Second Miss, it seems your reinforcements aren’t planning to help you. Let’s not waste any more time, shall we?" With that, perhaps fearing Ji Heng’s presence might lead to unforeseen complications, he lunged at Jiang Li.

The silver tip of his sword gleamed with deadly intent, stirring the leaves into a flurry as they fell.

Seeing that the situation was beyond repair and her supposed ally remained detached, Jiang Li gathered her resolve and shouted, "Lord Duke, I know why you are associating with the Prime Minister and Prince Cheng! The court is divided into three factions. Though the Emperor may appear weak, but he is no fool. To gain his sole trust, you must support Prince Cheng. With threats on all sides, the Emperor will rely on you heavily. This entire tripartite standoff is your creation!"

Jiang Li's rapid and urgent words left the black-clad assassins dumbfounded. What Prince Cheng? What Prime Minister? What was she talking about?

The smile on Ji Heng's lips froze.

end of part 1~

part 2

#the double #cdrama #marriage of the di daughter #嫡家千金 #墨雨云间 #I can't let go of this scene #their dynamics was supposed to be like this from the beginning #i love the author's descriptions of Ji Heng #this part is basically where Ji Heng is forced to enter the “play”#the rest won't fit in the same post #so part 2 will come later #i used my own understanding + translator to help out #i swear i only wanted to post an excerpt #but then...

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kaoharu · 6 months

Text

hello friends welcome to my milgram outfit observations 👍 im your host yves and im a totally seasoned clothing analyzer

anyways onto the observations themselves warning for incoming long post cause im a rambler o7

tagging @urrvw & @monopoisonous ^–^ !!! hi guys

alrighty now then as you can see in the newest milgram art, all the male prisoners seem to be wearing the Exact Same suit at first glance however there are some stark but also miniscule differences in both the type of suit and style of the outfits as a whole on each of them ( at least to me anyways )

some of the more noticeable parts of the suits that are different for each would be the pockets , buttons , and vents while some smaller things wld be the lapels , shoulders , seams , and collar type + tie as well as shoes

( i drew up a helpful graphic for the suit jacket parts for your convenience using fuuta as an example since we can see the most of his suit 👍👍 )

— MIKOTO

so based off the details we can see of mikotos jacket, he is Most Likely wearing some variation of a two / three buttoned single breasted notched or closing front lapel sports jacket or blazer with flap pockets. he also has front darts ( front seams ) going up the whole front of his jacket, as opposed to the side seams i highlighted on fuuta's jacket

his jacket also appeared to be a fitted silhouette as the shoulders are sligjtly defines and lifts slightly up, unlike a structures or sack jacket. as for his shirt, he seems to be wearing some type of cutaway collared shirt with a four in hand knot tie ( its very hard to tell to be honest im guessing on the general size of the knot ) his collar is neatly done and more reminiscent to how an office worker might wear theirs

finally we have his shoes, seemingly very similar to harukas, but i believe they are plain toe derby loafers since the shape is more rounded than it is sharp like a wingtip

— KAZUI

next we have kazui who im guessing is wearing two button single notched lapel suit with jetted pockets. the jacket is prob a fitted silouhette as it goes across the shoulders in a relatively straight line but kinda ? showing off his shoulders in a way. i believe he has side seams as well if you look closely to his shoulder not being covered by the bouquet 👍

his shirt seems to be a (semi)spread collared shirt with a (?) half windsor knot <- once again its hard to tell really 🤷‍♀️ then unlike all the other dudes, kazui actually has a suitvest underneath his jacket this is usually only done for formal events such as weddings, galas, or high profile business meetings . . . his collar is neat and closed tho not as much as shidous

then we have his shoes, which i think are cap toe derby loafers, his shoes are very similar to shidou, like how mikoto and haruka had similar ones, but the overall shape of kazui's shoe suggest a more casual derby rather than an oxford

— SHIDOU

shidou has a six buttoned double breasted notched lapel blazer jacket with jetted pockets. the jacket seems to be a structured sihoulette since the shoulders go pretty much straight across rather than dipping at all. he also appears to have front darts starting from his breast pocket, tho it doesnt span the whole front like mikoto

his shirt wld appear to be either a classic or spread collared shirt and an oriental tie / simple knot 👍 this a knot that is often done by wives for their husbands iirc . hrm !! his collar is completely closed as well

and like i mentioned in kazuis section, i believe shidou has cap toe oxford. these are often seen and worn in mainly formal settings

— FUUTA

fuuta has a two buttoned single breasted notched lapel blazer jacket with flap pockets. it would also appear that it has a fitted silhouette, and as pointed out in the graphic i drew he has side seams running from around the underarms to the bottom of the jacket

his shirt underneath is most likely a full cutaway w a four in hand knot ? its tied rather loosely compared to the other tho as uu can see his collar is more open than kazuis

fuuta is so silly cause he has pennyloafers ( i love these shoes btw theyre basically slip ons and once broken in theyre very comfy in my experience 👍 anyways tho ) these are often worn in business casual setting

— HARUKA

haruka has a three buttoned single breasted notched lapel sports jacket with flap pockets, tho he has a noticeable lack of seams that are used to fit the jacket on a perskn better. this makes the jacket look slightly ill fitted to him but it cld also be intentional as the shoulders imply that its a sack silhouette type

as for his collar, it looks most similar to a classic one w a kelvin knot, done a bit looser than normal but still tighter than fuutas tie

finally, im pretty sure haruka has wingtip derby loafers, as mentioned in fuutas section, as overall design of the shoe is similar to fuuta but the tipe is slightly more pointed looking

aaaaand thats pretty much it ❓️ i dont have any connections to make so yepp . . . sorry these got shorter and shorter LOL

#✧ chatting !#wahoooo my singular contribution to the milgram fandom #no maintagging for me. feel free to maintag addons tho mutuals #idk if that works for reblogs but yeag

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basu-shokikita · 1 year

Text

Kloktober 2023 Day 10

Came Back Different

I wasn't really sure what to do for today so I decided to try something new for it aka no Skwistok today

This entry features Murderface and…someone he would really like to see again, especially after the events of Army of the Doomstar.

“With our cutting-edge technology we actually managed to reconstitute his body, well, what was left of it. We did have to replace several parts with metal because the skin was completely unsalvageable. Some organs have been artificially replicated too to allow him to subsist as…” The surgeon seemed reluctant to say the word. “Human being.”

“How could you hide this from us?!” Nathan looked at Charles in complete disbelief.

“There was, uh, a lot going.” Charles said, straightening up his clothes. He was no longer wearing that monk robe, instead returning to his old suit and his old job too. “As you can imagine, I didn’t really have the time to inform you guys.”

“Still!” Nathan complained.

“We tha’t he was dead!” Pickles added.

“He explodeds right in our faces!” Toki said, before replicating the explosion noise. “We saws it!”

“I, uh…didn’t sees anythingks because I was unskconstcious.” Skwisgaar scratched the side of his neck. “But they tolds me he was dieds.”

“Dood, it was pretty horrible-”

“I hads you in my arms, Skwisgaar.”

“You don’ts has to says it like dat.”

“Skwisgaar, you were seriously just out.”

“I fucking knows!”

“It’s nuthin’ ta be embarrassed about!”

“Ams not-”

“Isch it true?” Murderface raised his voice to be heard amongst the ruckus. They all turned to him and then back to the surgeon.

“Well,” The man cleared his throat. “Like I said, we essentially patched him back together so we’re unclear about the side effects so far. But he’s alive, yes.”

“Can we schee him?” Murderface asked, for once not making an inappropriate comment or cracking a rude joke. His left fist was clenched and his eyebrows were furrowed together though not out of anger.

It was guilt.

The surgeon and Charles exchanged glances and the surgeon gestured at his assistant, who quickly left through the door.

The guys stared at each other in disbelief, chattering between each other. Toki kept insisting on telling Skwisgaar the heroic details of when he carried him on his back for God knows how long. Pickles threw in random guesses of how their friend would look like now and Nathan listened attentively. Murderface didn’t participate, just stood there, thinking and feeling his palms get sweaty. Fuck. Fuck, was it true? Was it really true?

Less than a minute later, the assistant came back, his hand on the doorknob as if to keep it from opening preemptively.

“Alright.” The surgeon looked at Dethklok. “Just remember, guys, he might be a little different. So be patient. Also-”

“Just shut up and let us see him!” Nathan demanded.

“Just do as they say.” Charles said, shaking his head with resignation.

The assistant opened the door and in came…

Dick Knubbler, looking pretty much the same as when they last saw him. Well, his legs appeared to be exclusively made of metal now, as well as his neck. His eyes had now been updated with some sort of futuristic-like visor. “Long time no see, babes!” He greeted them, and there was a metallic texture to his voice, too.

They all stared at him astounded for a good 10 seconds until…

“Holy shit!” Nathan went first. “It’s fucking real! You’re alive!”

“It takes more than a bomb to kill me, babe.” Knubbler smirked, striking a pose.

Murderface walked up to him, unable to contain himself. “Knubbler, I…I’m schorry.” He said with heaviness in his voice. “I did thisch to you…I’m schorry.”

Nathan frowned. “Murderface-”

“Oh, Willy!” Knubbler wrapped his arms around Murderface’s neck. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m better than ever, babe!” His face drew close to Murderface’s, smiling.

“Woah…” Nathan stepped back in surprise.

“Dood…”

“Dat’s…” Skwisgaar started.

“...Gays.” Toki finished.

“Oh, yeah!” Knubbler glanced at the others without letting go of Murderface. “I’m feeling totally gay, babes! While they were putting me together, I had a lot of time to think, you know? And I thought, life is pretty short to not be gay!” His ‘eye’ winked at Murderface. “How about it, babe?”

Murderface’s cheeks turned red. “G-G-G-Get the fuck off me!” He said, trying to shove Knubbler. “I’m not gay!”

“Now, Willy,” Knubbler shook his finger. “We both know that is not true, don’t we?” He said, hugging Murderface by the waist.

“Huh…” Nathan, raised his eyebrows while the other three just watched agape.

“What the fuck are you talking about, man?” Murderface weakly tried to resist the affection, with a nervous chuckle. “He’sch totally out of hisch mind!” He whispered to his bandmates.

“Right.” Charles adjusted his tie, visibly uncomfortable. “Let’s give Murderface and Knubbler some, uh, some privacy.”

There were mumbles of agreement and the boys followed Charles to the door.

“What?!” Murderface yelled, while the assistant took notes on Knubbler’s behavior. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Don’t leave me alone with thisch fucking lunatic!”

Nathan was in the doorframe when he turned his head. “You’re fucking gay, Murderface. Just get over it.”

“Yeah.” Three voices said in unison.

“Oh, fuck you, guysch!” Murderface yelled when the door closed. “You’re the gay onesch!”

“Come on, Willy, just give me a kiss.” Knubbler insisted, puckering his lips.

“God damn it!” Murderface moved his face, flustered. “Schtop being gay, Knubbler!”

“After you kiss me, babe.”

“No!”

#kloktober2023 #kloktober #metalocalypse #dethklok #william murderface #dick knubbler #dickface #army of the doomstar #no beta we die like men etc #my writing

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silverofthunder · 3 months

Text

☆ tattoo in my mind ☆

Secondo x Copia

1,266 words || tattoo!AU, fluff (in a way), a bit of teasing, flirty Secondo, SFW

i was really pissed off yesterday and wanted to write something controversial, so here we go… obviously, this is an AU and should be treated as such. mistakes are possible as i wrote this so fast.

if this isn’t your jam, don’t read this

this is my way of showing support to those who have been getting some criticism about the things they like (and write about). you do you, you're allowed to enjoy things however you want ♡

Copia felt the nervous sweat on his skin as he finally sat down on the chair, ready to get his first tattoo. The tattoo artist was speaking to him but half of the words seemed to blend into a incoherent mumble as Copia focused his gaze anywhere else but the equipments. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, squeezing his shirt in his fists.

”You ready?”

Copia glanced at the tattoo artist – a lovely woman, who smiled at him kindly – and nodded.

”Yeah.”

He drew in a deep breath, releasing the air slowly and the woman got to work, placing the tattoo machine on his chest. Copia tensed slightly, waiting for the pain but relaxed soon as it wasn’t as bad as he had thought.

The bell rang after a while and Copia’s eyes went to the door, seeing as an bald, older man stepped in. He was wearing only a white tank top and black trousers, and tattoos covered both of his arms, traveling all up to his neck. Copia swallowed as the man’s gaze briefly stopped to him – he looked a bit grumpy and the odd contact lense in his other eye only highlighted it.

”Nice to see you again, Secondo.” Another tattoo artist came from the back room, greeting the man. Copia watched as the man just nodded, walking straight to the chair on the opposite of Copia as the tattoo artist followed him. Copia’s eyes were glued to the man – he had obviously spent several hours under the needle as he was basically now a canvas filled with ink.

The man’s gaze found Copia’s again, the expression on his face staying grumpy as his eyes traveled to Copia’s bare chest. Copia swallowed again, now tearing his gaze away, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks.

Oh fuck. Of course something like this would happen to him even in a tattoo shop. Every time some hot guy would even look at him, he would turn into a blushing mess. A string of curses run through his head as he fiddled with his shirt and then he heard a low, quiet chuckle coming from where the man was.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

”First time is always the hardest.”

Copia’s gaze moved back to the man – he was still looking at him but this time he had the tiniest of smirks on his lips and Copia could feel his blush deepen as he mumbled something that probably wasn’t even a word. The man looked amused and Copia had a hard time staying still but somehow he managed to do so. It wouldn’t be nice if his tattoo ended up being messed up.

”Be careful, soon you might end up getting covered in tattoos.”

Copia blinked, his brain completely short circuiting for a moment. And then he heard that low chuckle again and the sound of it seemed to reach deep and Copia felt like he could melt on the spot.

Fuck.

”Secondo, please, don’t tease my customer,” Copia’s tattoo artist said. However, there wasn’t real annoyance in her voice.

Secondo just gave a slight shake of head, a small smirk still on his lips.

”I was just stating what might happen.”

”I don’t think I will take that many tattoos,” Copia stated, not really knowing how he managed to get anything sensible out.

Secondo’s brow quirked up.

”But you’re planning taking more?”

”Yeah, I guess,” Copia answered.

Secondo then made a face and Copia moved his gaze for the first time from the man’s face to his hand that was getting tattoeed. Or more specifically, his fingers. That must have hurt. But it wasn’t like the man had much other choices to take a tattoo on his upper body. And Copia couldn’t really see that he would tattoo his bald head first, though the man probably would pull that off, too.

Copia dared to take a look at his tattoo, the black ink now adorning his chest. It wasn’t anything big or complicated and it seemed that soon it would be finished for which he was glad of. He really could use some fresh air and technically he could have asked for a break but he didn’t dare as he didn’t want to make himself seem silly.

Luckily for him, the time went fast and Copia was ready to pay and leave. He could feel Secondo’s gaze on him as he walked to the counter. After paying he got a instructions of how to take care of the tattoo until it was healed and after the last thank yous and good day wishes he headed to the door and stepped out of the shop.

He didn’t get very far when he heard a familiar voice and stopped right in his tracks, turning slowly around. Secondo was standing close to the door of the shop and Copia raised his brows as he walked to him.

”Yes?”

Secondo shifted, clearing his throat, then moving his hand behind his neck and for a moment he looked like he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Copia offered him a small smile, trying his best at ignoring the way his heart made little jumps in his chest as he waited for Secondo to speak.

”Uh, I’m not good at this shit…” the man started, shifting nervously. ”Would you want to… go out with me?”

Secondo lowered his gaze and Copia blinked as the words slowly sunk in, though he still needed to pinch himself to make sure that he wasn’t just dreaming or something. No, he was wide awake and this was real. And the hot guy had just asked him out. Copia felt the way too familiar burn on his cheeks and let out a tiny, nervous laugh.

”Yes,” Copia answered, and Secondo let out a sigh, the tension leaving his body as his gaze met Copia’s again.

”Great,” Secondo stated and dropped his hand from his neck and put it into his pocket, taking then his phone out. ”Give me your number.”

Copia had to take a moment to think what his number was as the whole situation was really messing with his rational thinking – which was nothing new of course. As he eventually remembered the number, he said it slowly to Secondo.

”Uh, I don’t think I caught your name.”

”Oh, it’s Copia.”

”Copia,” Secondo repeated and Copia nodded, watching as the man typed it down and then saved his number. After that Secondo put his phone back into his pocket and awkwardly motioned towards the door of the tattoo shop.

”I have to go back but I guess we’ll see soon.”

”Yeah,” Copia stated, trying his best to smile. Secondo flashed him a crooked smile and nodded and then opened the door, going back into the tattoo shop. Copia stared at the door in awe for a while before shaking his head and turning on his heels. While he started walking away, a smile rose to his lips and his heart was fluttering in his chest, the excitement bubbling at the bottom of his stomach.

It was still kind of hard to realize what had happened but Copia certainly had no complains. Though there still was that little thought in the back of his mind, reminding him that asking out and actually having the date was a different thing.

Secondo might even not show up when they eventually would be supposed to meet but Copia didn’t want to worry about it now. This little moment of enthusiasm he now felt would surely keep him going for a few days and it was all that mattered.

#secondo x copia #copiia #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics #this is kind of silly but anyway

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violet-shadows · 2 years

Text

Grounded (Part Three)

Masterlist

Summary: Azriel meets a stranger in the library and finds the course of his life forever altered.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: graphic description of violence and death, canon typical misogyny and gender-based violence, wing clipping

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Azriel woke early the next morning, flying first to Windhaven, then working north through the smaller camps. Each new group greeted him much the same, with the more experienced warriors making themselves scarce while novices puffed out their chests, making a show of their hubris so that they might be thought of as brave. But one look at his shadows, dark and writhing around his hands, had them shrinking back every time. The camp lords tolerated his presence for the most part, but he was not welcome, nor did he wish to be.

When he reached his fifth and final camp for the day, he knew immediately that something was different about this settlement. The women and novices were notably absent, with only the warriors coming out to receive him. The camp lord, an older Illyrian with a reputation for traditionalism, seemed especially displeased with his arrival. He allowed Azriel to tour the camp regardless, but the Shadowsinger was acutely aware of several sets of eyes on him as he roamed the grounds.

Just as he was about to leave, a quiet whistle from a nearby window caught his attention. He moved closer, stepping out of view of the others, and saw a female peaking out of a crack in some shutters. He gave her a pointed look, prompting her to say her piece. “I’m sorry to disturb you, my lord, but this might be my only chance. My niece was taken to Velaris a few years back, she was injured gravely. It’s a slim chance, but perhaps you know if she’s alright. Her name is Y/N.”

Azriel froze, taking a moment to process her words. This was Y/N’s aunt, which meant the males who maimed you were somewhere in this camp. His shadows drew in close, coiling like serpents preparing to strike. “I know her. She’s well,” he told your aunt. He decided the cost of your recovery would be yours to share. “I need you to tell me who her father is, and who helped him clip her.”

The female's eyes went wide, brimming with tears as she shook her head frantically. “You can’t,” she whispered emphatically, “her father is the camp lord.” Azriel opened his mouth to argue, to tell her he’d burn down all of Illyria before he let that monster walk free, but the sound of approaching footfalls had the Y/N’s aunt hastily closing the shutters.

A few warriors, including the camp lord’s right hand, rounded the corner. “Done nosing around?” he asked.

“Actually, I have some business with your lord before I go,” Azriel replied, his siphons blaring bright. The warriors exchanged a suspicious glance but led him to the training rings nonetheless.

“What do you want?” The camp lord, Y/N’s father, asked, leveling a glare at the Shadowsinger.

“Rumor has it you’ve been clipping wings,” Azriel called out.

“Of course not. Wouldn’t dare defy the almighty High Lord,” he spat the title like a slur, sarcasm dripping from his voice. The gathering crowd of males chuckled in response.

“You and I both know that’s bullshit,” Azriel replied, stepping several paces closer. “So, I’ll ask you again, have you been clipping wings?”

“Maybe,” the male replied, drawing a blade from his belt, “And if I am, what business does that half-breed and his dogs have meddling in the natural order of things, anyway?”

“Wing clipping is punishable by death,” Azriel said, loud enough for the onlookers to hear. A hush had fallen over the gathered crowd, the atmosphere shifting as bloodshed seemed imminent.

“With proof, it is,” the camp lord spat, “see any proof ‘round here?”

“Oh, I have proof,” Azriel bared his teeth, a wild glint in his eyes. “I have all the proof I need.”

The camp lord’s face fell, surprise quickly giving way to anger, “Let me guess, that little bitch daughter of mine went crying to the High Lord.” Any restraint Azriel had hoped to show dissolved at your father's words, and before your father could blink, he was on him.

He could have driven Truth Teller through his neck right then and there, but such an end felt far too merciful. Instead, he landed blow after blow, utterly satisfied at the sound of bones crunching under his siphon-clad fists. The camp lord bucked, throwing the Shadowsinger off of him as he swiped with his blade, but Azriel could not be deterred, grasping the male by the neck and slamming him back into the earth with a thud. The other warriors knew not to intervene, to do so would undermine their camp lord’s honor, and bring them certain death.

“Is she your whore?” the camp lord spat, blood pouring from his ruined nose, “is that how she got you to come after me?” He lurched forward, but Azriel sidestepped, grabbing his wing in the process. With a roar, the shadowsinger pulled, snapping his wing bones and twisting them until they tore through leathery flesh. The male screamed in agony, stumbling out of the Shadowsinger’s hold.

“Or is it the High Lord she’s fucking? Or maybe it’s all of you, always struck me as the type to open her legs fo—,” Azriel didn’t let him finish, placing a rib-snapping kick to the center of his chest that had his opponent toppling backward. The male rolled, struggling to get his feet under him with one wing now hanging limp at his side, but the Shadowsinger was far beyond the point of showing mercy. He grasped his uninjured wing and yanked it, forcing it backward until he felt tendons and muscles pop and tear beneath his grip. The camp lord screamed again, but all Azriel would think of was you. He reckoned this was still a mercy compared to what you had endured, and he felt no remorse as he pulled the male into a kneeling position by the collar of his leathers.

Azriel drew Truth Teller and turned to address the observing crowd, intent on making his message clear. “The Night Court Law is clear: wing clipping is forbidden without exception. Let it be known that this will be the fate of anyone found to have violated that law.” Azriel turned to the camp lord and leaned down, speaking lowly in his ear.

“You deserve far more suffering than this plane of existence can offer,” he spat, grabbing the male by the hair to expose his neck. “I can only hope there is more in store for you where you’re headed.” With that, he plunged Truth Teller into the male's neck, severing his windpipe in a single stroke. Death came quickly after that, and after a few choked gurgles, Azriel let him drop, his body falling limp into the blood-soaked mud.

Silence fell over the observing crowd, and they backed away as Azriel advanced, allowing him to leave uncontested. For a moment, he thought some of the higher ranking warriors might advance on him, but bloodshed was the language of the Illyrians, and Azriel’s message had been clear. He passed your aunt’s house on his way out of the camp and briefly entertained the idea of knocking. Speaking to her now would implicate her, though, and he couldn’t risk her safety. Later, once he spoke to Rhys and came back to finish off the males who helped clip you, he would invite her to come to Velaris permanently. For now, he had to figure out how to explain himself to Rhysand, and how to tell you he had killed your father.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Azriel didn’t stop back at Windhaven, flying through the night all the way back to Velaris, utterly exhausted by the time he landed at the House of Wind. It was still early morning, so he was able to avoid Cassian and Nesta, going directly to his room to bathe, cleansing his skin of the blood he had shed. He knew he needed to talk to Rhysand, and then to you, but his body was too weary to do anything but lay in bed after he washed. So, despite the adrenalin still coursing in his veins and the emotions warring within him, he fell into a fitful sleep.

In his first dream, he was on a beach somewhere, lying in the sand with his wings outstretched, soaking up rays of golden sunlight. In the distance, the cry of gulls could be heard over the rush of the incoming tide. You were next to him, your head resting on his chest as you absently traced patterns into his bare skin. Behind you was a set of Illyrian wings, whole and unscarred, stretched out in the sun like his. Even his shadows were at peace, pooling around the two of you in a blanket of soothing darkness. “I love you,” you murmured, and Azriel smiled, so content at that moment he could have purred like a housecat.

Then, the dream shifted with a crash of thunder in the distance. Azriel’s eyes flew open and he looked up at the rapidly darkening sky. The sea, calm and bright cerulean only moments before, had turned dark, with white-capped waves now crashing against the shore. ‘Danger’, his shadows hissed, prodding at his shoulders to spur him into action. He looked around the beach, head on a swivel as he searched for the threat he knew was coming.

“Azriel?” you murmured, this time sounding frightened. He rose up onto his knees, keeping you tucked to his chest as he tried to get his bearings. In the back of his mind, he had a sinking feeling that he was missing something, like a critical piece of information had slipped his mind. “Azriel!” you said again, this time more urgently.

Finally, he looked down and gasped at what he saw. You were pale and limp, slumped against him with half-lidded eyes. His arms, still wrapped around your torso, were slick with blood. He looked down, searching for the source, and gasped. On the ground lay two Illyrian wings, shorn from their owners back at the base, with jagged white bone protruding from ruined flesh. He turned you gently, bile rising in his throat as his horror mounted, and when he saw your back, he began to scream.

Your back was flayed open, with two deep lacerations where wings should have connected. Blood flowed freely from the wounds, pouring over his arms in a deadly waterfall. Red-coated stubs an inch or two long jutted out from each side of your spine, left behind when the wing bones were sawed through. Azriel looked up, preparing to call out for help, and found the scene around him had changed. He was no longer kneeling on the bank, but in the mud of a training ring, the one in your home camp. He craned his neck in search of aid, but what he saw made his stomach twist in horror.

Bodies littered the ground in every direction, filling the training ring in mangled heaps. Each was an Illyrian female, dead, with their wings ripped from their back. Blood pooled on the ground around him, mixing with the mud to create a putrid slop. Azriel looked up, to the edge of the ring, where a familiar male stood watching him. Your father grinned maniacally, a blood-soaked sickle in his hands. A female knelt at his feet, weeping with her head in her hands, and Azriel watched in horror as he grasped one wing and brought the blade down upon it, severing it at the base. “Stop!” Azriel screamed, willing himself to stand and intervene, but it was as though he was shackled in place, unable to do anything but watch as the other wing was severed. Your father cackled as he pulled the female, now limp and lifeless, up by her hair. “No!” Azriel choked, finally seeing her face. Your face.

It was then that he realized he recognized the bodies that were piled around them. They were all wearing the same thing: a white lace blouse and blush-colored skirt, the same as the one you wore to the restaurant. Their hair was the same as well, identical to yours in length and color. He looked at the nearest one, lying on her front in the mud with her head turned towards him. Her face was mottled with the hues of death and her eyes were glazed over, but he recognized her, recognized all of them. They were all parfect copies of you, bloodied and broken beyond repair, piled around him as monuments to his failure.

He looked down at the version of you in his arms and found you had gone still, the color drained from your face to match the greying complexion of the bodies around you. Azriel sobbed, shaking his head as he rocked your cooling corpse. Beneath you, his shadows were pooled with your blood, as if they, too had been drained of life. “Please, please, please,” he cried out, though he wasn’t sure what he was asking for. For you to wake up? For your forgiveness? For the mother to strike him dead?

A hand rested on his shoulders and he turned to see a figure looming over him, a sickle identical to the one your father wielded in hand. It took him a moment to recognize the face, for it had been hundreds of years since he last saw it. It was not your father that stood over him, but his own, as stone-faced and cruel as the day he last saw him. “Please,” Azriel whispered, feeling very much like a child again, trapped in infinite darkness and pain.

His father’s eyes were dead and unfeeling as he raised the sickle, bringing it down on both of Azriel’s wings in one devastating blow. He roared in agony as the appendages were shorn from him, joining yours in the mud. He didn’t let go of your body, falling to the side as he wailed, blood pouring from the wounds on his back. He looked up again, ready to beg his father for a merciful death, but when he looked at the hands holding the blade, he realized they were covered in familiar scars. His eyes lifted, and he stared in abject horror upon his own face, twisted in gleeful malice as he slit his own throat.

He woke screaming, hurdling from the bed onto the stone floor of his bedroom. His stomach heaved and he emptied it onto the ground, retching until only bile came up. He collapsed onto his side, his entire body shaking and covered in sweat, and he realized his face was slick with tears, still falling freely of their own volition. He lay there for some time, waiting for his breath to even out as he came back to realize. “Just a dream,” he whispered to himself, “not real.”

Even after he’d cleaned up his sick and washed the sweat from his skin, the relief that usually came after one woke from a nightmare evaded him. Azriel had his fair share of bad dreams in his life, but none that came close to this one. The vision of you in his arms, cold and lifeless with your wings shorn from your body, came to him with every blink, as though seared into the back of his eyelids. His wings ached, and if he focused on them too much he could swear he felt the phantom pain of a blade driving through bone. He did not try to go back to sleep, preferring exhaustion to the horrors that might await him in his dreams. Instead, he decided a visit to his High Lord was in order, both to answer for the killing of your father and to make some demands of his own.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated. Click here to check out my other work.

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idontknowreallywhy · 10 months

Text

Estera - Ch 23 - Jump

Ok, I lied. I accidentally finished another chapter.

Have been looking forward to this one for a while 😁

What went before

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

He spotted the gap in the hedge and pulled into the small car park, stopping the car a little way away from a huddle of harnessed and helmeted people gathered at the back of a van. He’d assumed from the limited message he’d received Estera was attending some kind of social event, but this looked a lot more like an Activity of some kind… given the proximity of the sheer cliffs this part of the coastline was famous for, perhaps abseiling?

Quite chunky harnesses for abseiling though.

He couldn’t quite spot her among the group and hoped he hadn’t come to the wrong place. Pulling at the sweater to make sure it was definitely hiding the waistcoat, he left his warm but completely inappropriate tailored wool coat in the car and walked as casually as he could towards the van. One helmeted head snapped around as he crunched across the gravel and he felt a rush of relief which partly but not entirely overcame his uncharacteristic self-consciousness. She gave a tiny wave and mouthed “two minutes” before turning back to focus on the person giving instructions. Scott paused where he was and watched as the briefing seemed to finish and the group sprang into action to unload a series of tightly wrapped silk bundles from the van.

His jaw dropped. He knew what those were. Estera turned back and caught his eye and he pointed to the edge of the clifftop and raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. She nodded and grinned slightly maniacally. Then beckoned him over.

He drew alongside and murmured “I thought you weren’t a fan of heights?”

“Just airplanes” she whispered back. “This way you get the rush without needing to get into one. Just, err, don’t mention it to the school kids.”

He chuckled. “Not going to lie, I’m quite envious.”

“Don’t you do this kind of thing all the time? Given your day job?”

“Not for fun. It’s hard to enjoy the moment when someone’s trapped or injured or something and they are waiting for you.”

She looked thoughtful. “Give me a minute.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“We have a rig spare though don’t we? Robin hasn’t turned up.”

“That doesn’t mean we can just let a randomer jump, Tez, you know that. He’s not done the training.”

“He’s done this kind of thing a lot, though, for his job.” She looked round to see Scott happily chatting to a couple of people and suddenly realised that maybe he wouldn’t appreciate losing his anonymity right now. So she fudged it. “He’s in… outdoor pursuits” she invented rapidly “really extreme stuff. In, uh, Australia.”

“Unless he can show me a qualification… the insurance company would string me up if something happened.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

She knew the disappointment was showing on her face and the wheedling was beneath her. She wouldn’t usually push, but… she glanced back over at Scott… she had a sense that he might need this as much as she did today. Mentally slapping herself for being outrageous but ploughing ahead anyway she pulled out her best puppy dog expression and watched Gary crumble.

“He’ll have to go tandem. I’ll take him. And he needs to do the E-learning first.”

“I’m sure that would be fine!”

The stocky instructor approached Scott who stood to attention, being about 8 inches taller than Gary she could see his reaction over the shorter man’s head. Estera could guess the order of conversation from his open-book facial expressions - the grin and sparkling eyes would be in response to “you can jump”, the slight frown probably meant the news that he’d have to go tandem had been delivered and the hastily suppressed cringe was very likely indicative of worse news re the e-learning requirement. Scott nodded seriously, said something she couldn’t hear and accepted the offered tablet, immediately starting to read.

“Tez!”

She jogged over.

“When he’s finished that you brief him on the geography. And get him kitted up.” Gary looked pointedly at Scott’s very-much-not-BASE-Jump-Association-approved trousers and sighed pointedly. “At least his shoes are alright.”

Scott was sat on the footplate of the van, studiously focussed on the iPad but she was sure he blushed slightly. Gary marched off to oversee the setting up of the jump point.

“In fairness I have done far crazier things in similar trousers.”

She tried and failed to suppress a snort of laughter. “I’m sorry… I’m sure if you told him who you were he’d let you do what you liked.”

Scott smirked. “I did consider it. But… he’s not actually wrong. I don’t know any of your equipment, we do a LOT of training with ours. I don’t know the jump site and it isn’t as if I can scan it to get the data to an HUD. It would be pretty awkward if I misjudged and ended up a greasy smudge on the Devonshire coastline… given the day job.” He jerked his head in the direction Gary had disappeared in “Apparently the paperwork would ruin his week.”

Estera spluttered and he grinned up at her. “Just promise me you won’t tell a soul? I’ll never hear the end of it if Gordon or Alan find out. Anyway TEZ…” she screwed up her face at the awful nickname and he winked “aren’t you supposed to be briefing me?”

She pointed at the iPad and tapped her foot. He shrugged.

“I can take in both. Go ahead.” The last two words had a certain… commanding quality to them. Which she guessed made sense. Given the day job.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“John. I believe there might be a Situation with Scott.”

John nearly inhaled his crème d’oursin and was halfway to his feet before his brain engaged. It was entirely possible he was catching the smotherhen from Scott. Penny had of course remained composed and asked EOS to elaborate.

“Certainly, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. I have been monitoring the life signs at the coastal location his rental vehicle reached. There are 16 life signs and I believe one represents Scott Tracy and another is highly likely to be Estera Hermaszewska.”

“Is he injured?

“It appears not, John.”

John placed his cutlery down delicately. “EOS… why? I haven’t asked you to monitor him. In fact I believe Scott specifically asked you not to do so.”

“Scott asked me not to monitor his vitals and location via his personal comm unit. He did not make any reference, positive or negative, to remote monitoring of his vehicle and its environs.” The AI’s voice had a petulant edge to it.

“Reference spirit of the law versus the letter of the law”

A few seconds passed.

“Oh.”

“You still haven’t explained why you are monitoring.”

“I am interested in the development of human friendships and believe Scott Tracy and Estera Hermaszewska would make an informative study. I am simultaneously monitoring three weather fronts, a wild fire in Peru, a developing coup in a Eurasian separatist state and I have learned 14% of the rules of cricket.”

“Still going on the cricket, EOS? It’s been a week?”

“I am determined to master it, John. It is the only sport where my understanding remains incomplete.”

John nodded and glanced at Penny who had been holding her napkin to her lips for rather longer than necessary to wipe the non-existent food residue from her face.

“Dare I ask what the Situation that concerns Scott is, EOS?”

“Yes, John.”

A pause. He clarified:

“What is the Situation, EOS?”

“All 16 life signs appear to have fallen over 100 vertical metres from the clifftop to the beach, John. All 16 remain viable and highly mobile which is anomalous in the circumstances.”

John frowned and ran a quick search on popular outdoor pursuits at the location. Then nodded. And sighed deeply.

“EOS, you need to stop monitoring Scott. He won’t thank you.”

“But John, what about…?”

“The only cause for concern here is that my eldest brother has found a friend as ridiculous as he is.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Scott leapt back in surprise and cursed loudly as the frigid water did its best to give him immediate frostbite.

Their harnesses and other equipment had been abandoned along with their shoes just above the tideline. The thrill-seeking group were dealing with the adrenaline comedown by rolling their trousers above the knees in order to sample the waters of the English Channel in late April. Which was clearly a lot closer to the Arctic Circle than his knowledge of geography had previously suggested.

He mock-glared at Estera who was unflinchingly shin deep in the gentle surf and doubled over laughing at him.

“Can’t we just jump off the cliff again?”

“I thought you lived by the sea?”

“Not this kind of sea!” Oops that was edging closer to a whine than he was proud of. Come on Tracy, man up.

He edged cautiously back to where the waves lapped over the pebbles and gritted his teeth to suppress the shudder as the nerves in his toes gave up and died on the spot.

“Last night I went for a swim and it was 72 degrees…” he quickly converted “about 22 Celsius.”

“Aaah this would be about 10.”

That figured.

“You should come back at Christmas, it’s tradition to swim in it on Boxing Day, sometimes we break the ice to do so.”

“Yep, I’m increasingly convinced the British are insane.”

She kicked icy water at him. He shrieked in an incredibly macho way and responded in the only way a self-respecting Commander, CEO and Responsible Big Brother could:

Competitively.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #tb estera #estera #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #EOS #The Commander and the Murderbot #John Tracy #cricket is unnecessarily complicated #i got a bit carried away #but enjoyed myself

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alj4890 · 2 months

Text

Rough Start

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart One Shot

Rewriting Chapter three of Book One if Tobias was there instead of Ethan Ramsey

A/N @jerzwriter what have you done to me? Making me rethink everything 😂 Keep it up 😉

Masterlist

"It doesn't feel like I got any sleep at all last night." Sienna whispered. "I was too excited about finding us a place."

"Me too." Chris whispered back. "I can't wait to check out that place you found. If it has a bedroom and an actual full bath, I might break down and cry and then offer you my first born for finding it."

The two drew stares from their fellow interns when they began to giggle. They quickly sobered when Zaid glared at them and patiently waited for a late Dr. Carrick to join the group.

"Here he is!" Ines exclaimed with a little relief. "Good morning, Dr. Carrick."

"Dr. Delarosa." He grunted in greeting. "Dr. Mirani."

He leveled his furious gaze upon the interns.

Chris was shocked that this was the same man she'd met the day before. There was no encouraging smile, no humor, nothing but an irritated aura of anger radiating off of him.

"Are these the ones I have to listen to?" He grumbled.

Ines's jaw dropped. She quickly recovered when he cocked an impatient eyebrow at her.

"Yes." She stammered. "These are the new interns."

"A friendly reminder." He said to the group. "Everyone you're about to tell me about was alive when they came in. Think about that before you decide on any type of treatment."

"That's encouraging." Chris drily remarked to Sienna.

"Something you want to say, Valentine?" Tobias narrowed his eyes at her.

Chris could feel her temper snap. Biting back a scathing retort, she forced herself to speak calmly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

Ines gasped and shook her head no at Chris from behind Tobias's shoulder. Even though it was rare to see, she knew to give Dr. Carrick a wide path when he was in a bad mood.

Chris ignored the warning. "I think it's unfair of you to try and shake our confidence before we've even had a chance to present our patients."

Her gaze never wavered from his.

"Shouldn't we at least have an opportunity to prove how good we are?"

Tobias folded his arms. He allowed the silence to stretch making everyone squirm, except Chris.

"Okay." He jerked his head towards the east wing. "Since you're so eager to prove yourself, Dr. Valentine, let's start with your patient."

Head held high, Chris walked past him and led the way to her patient's room.

Refusing to show anything other than her best professional manner, she presented her case. She didn't wince once as he barked out questions about the internal bleeding and the way she and Landry were treating it without surgery.

Tobias's irritation seemed to double the more he listened to Landry stutter on about needless information.

Without a word of praise, he left to hear all the others.

Chris sagged against the wall outside of her patient's room when he left with the other interns.

"What the hell is his problem?" She mumbled.

Marlene paused on her way in to check on another patient. "He probably didn't get laid."

The nurse snickered, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he was nowhere near to overhear anything she was about to say.

A startled laugh escaped Chris.

"Really?"

"That's my guess. Danny also saw him covered in coffee when he first came in. I think he's had a rough start to his day."

Her eyes twinkled with humor. "No sex and no coffee can make Dr. Carrick a very angry little boy."

Chris struggled to keep from laughing as she hurried to rejoin the others. It was difficult to do during the rest of the rounds, especially since every biting remark made her believe what Marlene said.

The no sex scenario seemed likely. After all, she saw him leave by himself last night. It was a shame he'd insisted she think about what kind of relationship she could handle. They'd both probably be in more relaxed frame of mind.

When he glanced at Chris, she smiled at him. He blinked, momentarily forgetting what he was going to ask Elijah about his patient.

Shaking his head to clear it, he dismissed the group.

"Not you, Valentine." He called out. "You have one more patient."

"Is it you?" She couldn't resist teasing.

"Excuse me?" Tobias knew he shouldn't be surprised by anything she said, but it still made him almost trip mid step.

"Is it you?" She repeated. "Are you my patient."

"No." He was unable to think of a witty response.

"That's a shame." Chris followed him down the hall. "You look like you could use a doctor."

Tobias spun on his heel to face her. "I know I'm going to regret this, but why do I look like I could use a doctor?"

"I don't think just any doctor will do in this situation." She tapped her chin as if seriously considering the problem before her.

Tobias found himself lost in her humor filled eyes.

"Maybe you need one who can prescribe you the right medicine." She added.

His eyebrow lifted. Folding his arms, he leaned against the wall to wait on her to elaborate. A part of him knew where this was going and he was dying to see just how far she dared to go.

"So? What sort of medicine do I need?" He asked. "I'm perfectly healthy at the moment."

Her eyes darted down his body. "No argument here."

He snorted, unable to keep his smile from appearing. "Then I think we agree I don't need any medicine."

He led her into another patient's room and introduced her. After a quick consult, the pair walked down the hall together once more.

"You do need something." She argued. "It isn't something I would prescribe to just anyone, but you definitely could use a dose or two."

"And that is?" He prodded.

"Coffee." Her smile grew when he groaned.

"No thanks." He responded with a slight shudder. "Coffee and I had a major falling out this morning."

"I heard." Chris clucked her tongue in sympathy. "How bad was it?"

"It went everywhere." Tobias replied. "All over me and the interior of my car. I could have handled it all over me, but I'd gotten the car detailed yesterday."

"That is awful." She tilted her head, studying his profile. "But coffee is not the only thing I'd prescribe for you."

Here we go, he thought with anticipation.

"I'll bite." He said with his typical smirk.

"I bet you would." Chris whispered.

He cleared his throat and looked pointedly at her. "What else would you prescribe me?"

"A time machine." She promptly answered.

"What?" He stopped in his tracks.

"A time machine." She repeated. "To go back to," she glanced at her watch, "about ten and half hours ago."

"Ten and a half hours?" He mumbled.

"See, there was this moment when you could have had a dose last night of your needed medicine." Her smile turned flirty. "Probably a few doses."

She stepped closer and tapped her clipboard against his chest. "If you'd have given in to what was before you, you probably wouldn't have snapped at everyone you encountered today."

She walked off, casting a final wink at him over her shoulder.

"Might want to consider that the next time you're offered the right kind of medicine, Dr. Carrick."

A slow smile formed as he watched her walk away.

"I'll consider it." He said mostly to himself.

#choices open heart #tobias x chris #tobias carrick x mc #tobias carrick #open heart fanfic #choices the stories you play

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miasmaghoul · 2 years

Note

i uh. i am entirely too gay for this shit. aether in bootyshorts was excellent, but now i raise you..the big boys in thongs? dew gets his fair share of feminization, but how about swiss walking around with the straps of a thong peeking out of his sweats?

huehuehue

HUEHUEHUE

@bluravenite drew the ghouls in thongs once did u know that

delightful

under the cut for slut activities, but no actual smut (gasp)

Swiss struts into the common room mid-morning, whistling and picking at a claw. Mountain and Dewdrop are there, the former buried in a thick book and the latter watching garbage television with a casual hand in his boxers.

"Mornin' boys," he says, sauntering to the fridge and scratching at his bare chest. He sees Dew's head tip back out of the corner of his eye, sees how Mountain peeks out from behind his pages.

"What the fuck?" Dew snorts as Swiss bends to grab a handful of grapes. Swiss smirks as he pops one in his mouth, striding over to lean on the counter as Dew shuffles to his knees. He stares blatantly at Swiss's hips as he crosses his arms over the back of the couch.

"What, see somethin' you like?" Swiss winks as Dew rolls his eyes. Swiss cants his hips forward and Dew's ears go pink. He hooks a thumb into the waist of his low-slung sweatpants and eats another grape.

"Is that what I think it is?" Dew asks incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

"Depends on if you think it's a bright pink thong, I guess," Swiss chuckles, watching Dewdrop's blush spill to his cheeks. He tugs one of the straps sitting high on his hips and snaps it against his skin.

"Where did you even get that?" Dew tilts his head unconsciously as Swiss repeats the motion, entranced. Swiss shrugs.

"It was in my laundry. Think it's Sunshine's."

"Then why are you wearing it?" Dew's voice cracks a little and Swiss grins.

"I'm outta clean undies, I guess. This was all I had left." Swiss gestures at himself. "Hence the laundry day attire. I gotta say, it's comfy. Plus is makes my ass look even more fantastic than usual." Dew makes a gagging sound, flushing red right down his neck as Swiss turns around.

"Oh yeah?" Dew chokes out, clearing his throat. Swiss is endlessly amused by how flustered he seems - their positions are reversed often enough behind closed doors, but something about Swiss in women's underwear seems to be pulling a certain thread for the little ghoul. Swiss looks back over his shoulder to find Dew honed in on the curve of his ass in his gray sweatpants.

"See for yourself," he purrs, tugging his sweats down to his knees much slower than necessary. He rolls his hips and arches his back, and Dew makes that gagging sound again as he leans over the counter.

Dew starts grinding his hips against the couch, and Swiss is certain he isn't aware he's doing it. His eyes are blown out, his mouth hanging open. Dew's claws are dug into his own forearms.

"Oh, she likes it," Swiss croons and Dew seizes, fangs digging into his lip to hold back the moan Swiss can see in his throat. Swiss stands and rubs his fingertips over where the elastic digs into his skin. Swiss turns to face Dew and the fire ghoul sounds like he might choke on his own tongue.

"I-is-," he swallows hard, hips twitching harder, "is that -"

"A rainbow unicorn," Swiss chimes in with a grin, glancing down at his crotch. "Like I said, think they're Sunny's."

"Lucifer," Dew breathes, and Swiss is sure he isn't meant to hear it. He looks over his shoulder. "Mount, you seein' this shit?"

Swiss had forgotten the earth ghoul was even here, still face-first in his book. Mountain peers over at them without so much an interested eyebrow raise. He flags his page and sets his book down, adjusting his glasses. He tilts his head, thoughtful.

"Not bad, if you like that sort of thing," Mountain says as he stands, casual as anything. He tugs his pajama pants over his hips and Swiss's jaw hits the floor. "I prefer something more like this."

Mountain is in a pair of lacy black panties, the fabric stretched over his half-chub. They sit low on his hips and press so very perfectly into the slight softness of his sides. Dew sounds like the wind's been knocked out of him. Swiss's grin turns predatory as he watches the fire ghoul's chin drop to his chest, watches him start rutting against the sofa with purpose. He winks at Mountain.

"Someone's learning about themselves this morning," he teases, and Mountain smirks. "Shall we teach him?"

"Absolutely," Mountain rumbles. They descend, and Dewdrop sobs.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlet #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul

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buckyssoldat · 3 months

Text

Chapter 54: Tempting

Warnings: smut, strong language, mentions of grief

A/N: This is part of my series, Forsaken - The Fallen Soldier. If you wanna be tagged in this, just send me an ask or a message. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :)

Your head lies, full of fire

I'm risin' up, risin up

My heart loves, full of fire

Love's full of fire, love

Six months had passed since Alice and Steve first slept together. Since that day, Alice basically lived with Steve in his apartment. They had a happy life – during the day, Alice went to work at the coffee shop while Steve helped those who were affected by the Snap, including going to a support group near his apartment. And the nights were filled with late night movies, cuddles, and sex. It all seemed perfect. Steve might not be Bucky, and Alice might not be Peggy, but it was great, nonetheless. They had to move on, or at least try.

At those support group meetings, Steve never talked about Alice. He didn’t want to make it all about him, or make the other members feel bad.

“What about you, Steve?” the leader of the group, Jimmy, asked him since he had been quiet since the beginning of the meeting. “Got anything to share with us?”

“Umm…” Steve hesitated for a bit. “Yeah, I uh… I’ve been seeing someone,” he finally admitted, his gaze fixed on his clasped hands.

The group perked up, exchanging glances of surprise and curiosity. Jimmy leaned forward, his brows raised in interest. “That’s great, Steve! Moving on… that’s why we’re here. To help each other move on, to give advice and share our experiences.”

The others were already buzzing with excitement, throwing out questions like rapid-fire. Sarah, a young woman with bright eyes, chimed in, “Come on, Steve, give us something! How did you two meet?”

Steve sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this easily. “Uh, we… I guess you could say we met at work,” he mumbled, feeling the weight of the group’s anticipation.

“And how long have you been seeing each other?” Ron, another member of the group, asked, leaning back in his chair with a knowing grin.

“About six months,” Steve replied, his voice a little firmer now. “But it’s… it’s still pretty new.”

“Six months? That’s serious!” Sarah exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement. “How did you know she was the one?”

Steve shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “I… uh, I don’t know if she’s… the one, per se,” he stammered. “But she’s… she’s special.”

The group erupted into playful teasing, urging Steve to spill more details about his mystery girlfriend. And despite his reluctance, Steve found himself smiling, warmed by the friendship of the group. Maybe it was time to start opening up a little more about Alice.

Steve cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts. “Well, uh… she’s… she’s really into movies,” he began, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We have these movie marathons, and she always falls asleep halfway through, but she insists on staying up till the end.”

A chorus of chuckles rippled through the group, and Steve continued, feeling a bit more at ease. “And, uh… she’s got this… this laugh that’s just… contagious, you know?”

Sarah sighed dreamily. “She sounds lovely, Steve.”

“And she… she loves to cook,” Steve added, a fondness creeping into his voice. “I swear, every time I come home, there’s something new on the stove. And even though… even though most times it’s a disaster, she always insists it’s the best thing she’s ever made.”

The group laughed again, nodding in understanding. Jimmy leaned forward, a gentle smile on his face. “Sound like you’ve found someone pretty special, Steve. We’re happy for you, really.”

Steve nodded, his gaze softening. “Yeah… yeah, I think I have. Thank you.” And for the first time, he felt a sense of gratitude for the support group, for giving him a space to share, even when it felt uncomfortable.

As the support meeting drew to a close, Steve felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Opening up about Alice, even just a little, had been surprisingly liberating. He exchanged farewells with the other members.

As he stepped out onto the city streets, Steve’s thoughts drifted back to Alice. Maybe it was time to take the next step, to let her in completely. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found her name.

With a deep breath, Steve dialled her number, his heart racing with anticipation. After a few rings, Alice’s voice filled his ear, warm and familiar.

“Hey, Steve,” she greeted, her tone soft with affection.

“Hey, Alice,” Steve replied, a smile spreading across his face. “Listen, I was thinking… how about dinner at that Italian place downtown? My treat.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Alice didn’t know what to answer – on one hand, she liked being with Steve, it brought her comfort. On the other hand, she didn’t want to move fast too soon. But maybe it was for the best – it was no use waiting for Bucky, he was not coming back. “Sounds perfect, Steve. I’ll meet there in an hour.”

But Steve sensed slight hesitation in Alice’s voice, a hesitation he couldn’t ignore. “Hey, uh, Alice… would you like to go as, you know, a date?”

There was a moment of silence before Alice responded, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “Steve, I... I would love to go on a date with you.”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat at her acceptance, his smile widening. “Great! I’ll see you there in an hour then?”

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Alice confirmed, her tone more assured now. “Looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” Steve said, feeling a surge of excitement. “See you soon, Alice.”

As they hung up, Steve couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Maybe their relationship started off a drunk night, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Alice had accepted, and he couldn’t wait to spend the evening with her. With a lightness in his step, Steve set off to meet Alice, his heart full of hope and anticipation for the future.

Steve made his way to the Italian restaurant, his mind was abuzz with thoughts of Alice. Despite the initial uncertainties, he was eager to take this step forward with her.

Arriving at the restaurant, Alice scanned the room, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Steve sitting at a cozy corner table, his smile radiant as he waved her over.

“Hey,” she greeted as she reached his table, a nervous yet excited grin playing on her lips.

“Hi,” Steve replied while getting up from his chair, helping Alice sit on hers, his eyes never leaving hers as she took her seat. “You know,” he began, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips, “I can’t believe you’re wearing the same dress from that night.”

Alice chuckled. “I figured it was fitting,” she replied, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

Their conversation continued late into night, each moment spent together feeling like a treasure. And as they shared a plate of tiramisu, Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that Alice had worn that dress to mess with him. His suspicions were confirmed the moment he felt Alice’s foot slowly caress his leg, then his thigh, and finally his groin. This action almost made him spit out a bit of tiramisu, which made Alice chuckle.

“You okay there, Cap?” she teased him.

Steve’s heart raced as Alice’s foot continued its tantalizing exploration under the table. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure despite the unexpected sensation.

“Yeah, you just caught me off guard,” he managed to reply, his voice slightly strained as she shifted in his seat.

Alice smirked. “Maybe I should have warned you,” she teased, her foot still tracing light patterns against his leg. “And maybe you should punish me once we get home.”

Steve’s mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions and desires. He couldn’t deny the thrill coursing through him. Leaning in, he whispered, “Maybe I will punish you later. You’re dangerous, you know that?”

Alice’s grin widened, her gaze smouldering with intensity. “You have no idea,” she whispered back, her lips brushing against his ear.

As they left the restaurant, Steve couldn’t resist the urge to reach for Alice’s hand, intertwining their fingers as they walked side by side.

“You look really handsome tonight,” Alice began, keeping her gaze on the path in front of her.

Steve stared at her, curiosity showing in his eyes. “What’s up with you tonight? First you decide to wear that dress, then you decide to mess with me at the restaurant, and now you’re complimenting me? What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything…” she replied nonchalantly, a small smirk playing on her lips.

The rest of their walk was silent, with only sexual tension coursing through the air.

As they reached Steve’s apartment building, she turned to him with a playful glint in her eyes. “So, Captain,” she said, her voice low and husky, “are you ready to deliver that punishment you promised?”

Steve’s pulse quickened at the suggestive tone in her voice. He couldn’t deny the desire that burned within him, the need to lose himself in her completely.

With a smirk, her pulled her close, his lips brushing against hers in a tantalizing kiss. “Oh, I think I can come up with something,” he murmured against her lips, his hands trailing down her back.

The elevator ride to his floor seemed like an eternity, even though it was only five stories. Steve couldn’t wait to get home and finally have his way with her, the way she wanted him to. As soon as the elevator doors opened, he rushed to his front door. Always the gentleman, he let Alice in first, but once he closed the door, he pushed her against the wall and kissed her passionately, grabbing her hands and pinning her.

Alice gasped at the intensity of Steve’s kiss, feeling a surge of desire as he pressed her against the wall. His hands, strong and steady, held her wrists firmly above her head. She couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as his lips moved from hers to her neck, trailing hot kisses along her soft kiss.

“You’ve been very bad tonight,” Steve murmured against her ear, his voice low and commanding. “And bad girls deserve to be punished.”

Alice’s breath hitched, her eyes darkening with anticipation. “What are you going to do to me, Captain?” she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement.

Steve didn’t respond. Releasing her hands, he moved them down her body, savouring the feel of her curves through the thin fabric of her dress. He took a step back, his eyes locking with hers, filled with a mixture of lust and determination.

“Turn around,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Alice complied, her heart racing as she faced the wall, feeling the cool surface against her flushed cheek. She heard the rustle of fabric as Steve slowly unzipped her dress, his fingers grazing her skin with tantalizing slowness. The dress slipped off her shoulders, pooling at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her lacy underwear.

Steve took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, his gaze intense and hungry. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his hands caressing her back before settling on her hips. “Now, bend over.”

Alice’s heart pounded in her chest as she bent over, pressing her hands against the wall for support. Steve’s hands traced a path down her spine, lingering at the small of her back, making her shiver with anticipation.

“Good girl,” Steve whispered, his voice a deep, commanding growl that sent a thrill through Alice. His hands moved to her hips, gripping them firmly as he positioned her just right. He could feel her body quiver under his touch, a response that only fuelled even more his own desire.

He leaned in, his lips grazing her ear. “Tell me, Alice, do you know why you’re being punished?”

Alice’s breath hitched. “For teasing you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s right,” Steve murmured, his hands slipping around to her front, tracing the edge of her lacy underwear before tugging them down. “And do you think you deserve it?”

Alice bit her lip, her body trembling. “Yes, Steve. I deserve it.”

A satisfied smile tugged at Steve’s lips as he straightened, his hands returning to her hips. “Good,” he said simply, delivering a sharp, stinging slap to her right butt cheek. Alice gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through her body. He repeated the action on her left cheek, her soft moans filling the room.

“Do you like that?” Steve asked, his voice a husky whisper as he continued his ministrations, each slap making Alice’s body arch in response.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice shaky with need. “I like it.”

Steve’s hands soothed over the stinging flesh, his touch gentle and comforting. “Then let’s see how much you can take,” he said, a teasing edge to his voice. He continued to spank her, alternating between sharp slaps and soft caresses, driving Alice to the edge of her control.

Each strike sent waves of sensation through Alice, her body straining against the onslaught of pleasure and pain. She could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs, her arousal growing with every touch. Steve’s name fell from her lips like a mantra, each gasp and moan a testament to the effect he had on her.

Finally, when he sensed she was nearing her limit, Steve paused, his hands soothing over her reddened skin. “You’ve done well, Alice,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “I think you’ve had enough punishment for now.”

Alice’s body quivered with relief and lingering desire. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Steve turned her around to face him, his eyes dark with need. He lifted her chin, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. “Now, let me reward you,” he said against her mouth, his hands slipping between her thighs to find her wet and ready.

Alice’s knees nearly buckled as his fingers expertly teased her, her body aching for release. “Please, Steve,” she begged, her voice a desperate plea. “I need you.”

Steve didn’t need to be asked twice. He scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her to the bedroom where he laid her down on the bed. She watched him, eyes wide with anticipation as he undressed, his movements deliberate and controlled.

Steve’s gaze was intense as he joined Alice on the bed. He kissed her deeply, his hands exploring her body with a mix of tenderness and urgency. The room filled with the sounds of their desire, each touch and kiss heightening the connection between them.

As he positioned himself above her, their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and husky, laced with need.

Alice nodded, her breath hitching as she felt him press against her entrance.

“I need to hear an answer,” Steve said in a serious tone.

“Yes, I’m ready,” she finally managed to reply.

He entered her slowly, savouring the sensation of her warmth enveloping him. They moved together in a rhythm that felt both new and achingly familiar, each thrust deepening their bond. Alice’s fingers dug into his back, her nails leaving marks as she pulled him closer, urging him deeper.

Their pace quickened, the intensity building with each passing moment. Steve’s breath was hot against her ear, his whispered words of encouragement and love driving Alice wild. She felt the pressure building within her, her body responding to every movement, every touch.

“I’m close,” she gasped, her voice breaking with need.

“Me too,” Steve replied, his own voice strained with effort.

With one final, powerful thrust, they both tumbled over the edge, their cries of release mingling in the air. Waves of pleasure washed over them, leaving them breathless and trembling in each other’s arms.

For a few moments, they lay entwined, their bodies still humming with the afterglow of their climax. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Alice’s forehead, his heart swelling with affection.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

Alice smiled, her eyes shining. “So are you.”

They spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other’s arms. As they drifted off to sleep, Alice couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. With Steve by her side, she would never be alone again.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm flow over the room. Steve woke first, his body comfortably entwined with Alice’s. As he watched her sleep, memories of the previous night replayed in his mind, a mix of pleasure and concern settling over him.

Carefully, he disentangled himself from her embrace, not wanting to disturb her rest. He lay on his side, propping himself upon one elbow, and gently brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. As if sensing his gaze, Alice stirred, her eyes slowly fluttering open. She smiled sleepily when she saw him, a look of contentment on her face.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep.

“Good morning,” Steve replied softly, his brow furrowing slightly. He then noticed the faint purple bruises in the shape of his hands on Alice’s butt cheeks. Guilt twisted in his stomach, and he quickly approached her, his expression turning serious.

“I’m so sorry. Look at these bruises… I didn’t realize I was that rough.

Alice placed a finger on his lips, silencing his apology. Her eyes were warm and reassuring. “Steve, you were perfect. I loved every moment of it.”

“But still,” Steve insisted, his voice tinged with worry. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

Alice’s eyes sparkled with affection as she took his hand and led him to the mirror in the bedroom. “Let me show you something,” she said, turning him so his back faced the mirror.

Steve’s eyes widened when he saw the angry red scratches running down his back, courtesy of Alice’s nails. “Wow,” he breathed, a mixed feeling of surprise and understanding.

She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “See?” she whispered. “We both got a little carried away. You don’t need to apologize.”

Steve turned to face her, his hands gently cupping her face. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, his voice filled with admiration.

Alice smiled up at him, her eyes filled with warmth. “I know,” she smirked, leaning in for a tender kiss. “Now, how about breakfast?”

With a lighter heart, Steve nodded, allowing himself to relax. “Breakfast sounds perfect,” he agreed, slipping into his boxers and grabbing a t-shirt while Alice just put on a big shirt.

As they moved to the kitchen, Alice playfully smacked his backside, making him jump. “And remember, next time is me who does the punishment.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at Alice’s playful remark. “Deal,” he replied with a grin, pulling her into a tight hug. “But just so you know, I might not enjoy being punished as much as you did.”

Alice chuckled, leaning into his embrace. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Together, they set about making breakfast. As they cooked and joked, Alice couldn’t shake the feeling of contentment that settled over her. Maybe Steve wasn’t Bucky, and she wasn’t Peggy, but in each other, they had found something special.

“I’m gonna meet Natasha later today,” Steve shared as he ate one of the pancakes Alice had made. “You could come with me, she misses you.”

Alice smiled at the mention of Natasha. “I’d love to see her again,” she replied, a warmth in her voice. “It’s been too long since we last saw each other.”

Steve nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, it has. She’s been through a lot too. It’ll be good for both of you.”

Later that day, Steve and Alice made their way to meet Natasha at the compound. It had been a year and a half since Alice had last seen her. During that time, they would occasionally text each other, just to say they’re okay, but they hadn’t seen each other.

Steve was the first to enter the briefing room of the compound, with Alice following behind him. Natasha was sitting at a desk, typing something into the computer.

“Hey there,” Steve greeted her.

Natasha rose from her seat, returning Steve’s smile with one of her own. “Hey,” she replied, stepping forward.

“I brought someone to see you,” Steve announced before the scootched to the left, showing Alice standing behind.

Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise as she took in Alice’s presence. “Alice! Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s you!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to envelop Alice in a tight hug. “It’s been way too long!”

Alice laughed, returning Natasha’s hug with equal enthusiasm. “I know, right? It’s so good to see you, Nat.”

Natasha pulled back, studying Alice with a mix of curiosity and affection. “You look great,” she said sincerely. “How have you been?”

Alice smiled, a warmth in her eyes. “I’ve been good, thanks. Just taking things one day at a time.”

Natasha nodded, her expression understanding. “I hear you. Well, I’m glad you’re here. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Well, I’m gonna give you ladies some time alone,” Steve began as he grabbed his bag. “I’ll be at the gym if you need me.”

As Steve left the room, Alice and Natasha settled into comfortable chairs. When Alice sat down, she moaned in pain due to her previous night spent with Steve. This made Natasha raise an eyebrow in suspicion, but she didn’t say anything about it.

Their conversation was flowing easily as they caught up on each other’s lives. They talked about everything.

“So, how did you and Steve find each other?” Natasha asked. “You guys had a pretty bad fight, I thought you were not gonna speak to each other for years.”

Alice chuckled, remembering the argument she had with Steve. “Yeah, we did have a rough patch,” she admitted. “But we both realized we said some pretty bad stuff. We accidentally met each other at a bar a few months ago.”

“A few months ago?” Natasha asked in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it,” Alice replied. She didn’t know if she wanted to tell Natasha about her and Steve. “We apologized for the stuff we said and then drank together. But enough about me. What about you? What have you been up to?”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. “Well, you know, same old, same old,” she replied with a small smile. “Dealing with the aftermath of the Snap, trying to keep things together. It hasn’t been easy, but we’re managing.”

“I can imagine,” Alice said softly. “But you’re strong, Nat. You always find a way to make it through.”

Natasha’s smile softened. “Thanks, Alice.” She hesitated for a moment before continuing, her expression growing serious. “Listen, I know things have been tough for you too, especially after… after everything that happened, and loosing Bucky…”

Alice’s heart clenched at the mention of Bucky’s name, a pang of sadness washing over her. “Yeah, it’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m trying to move on, you know? Trying to find some semblance of normalcy.”

Natasha reached out, squeezing Alice’s hand in a gesture of comfort. “I get it,” she said softly. “And I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

Alice smiled gratefully, feeling a surged of warmth at Natasha’s words. “Thanks, Nat. It means a lot to me.”

Their conversation continued late into the afternoon, the hours slipping away as the shared stories and laughter. By the time Steve returned to the briefing room, shirtless and sweating from the gym, Alice and Natasha were deep in conversation, their bond stronger than ever.

“I take you ladies have talked about everything you needed to,” Steve said as he wiped some sweat from his forehead with a towel.

“Yeah, we did,” Natasha shared a smile with Alice.

Steve turned around to go to the kitchen and grab a cup of water. This made Natasha see his back, filled with scratches.

“Steve, what happened with your back?” she questioned suspiciously.

Steve froze, caught off guard by Natasha’s question. He glanced back at her, trying to think of a plausible explanation. “Oh, uh…” he stammered, his mind racing. “I, uh, fell yesterday. Nothing serious, don’t worry.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her expression sceptical. “You fell, huh?” she said, her tone teasing. “Looks more like someone got a little too carried away.”

Alice’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized Natasha had noticed the marks on Steve’s back. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unsure of how to respond.

“Well, you know how it is,” he said with a nervous laugh, trying to play if off. “I just slipped and fell.”

That was the moment Natasha put all the pieces together – the scratches on Steve’s back, Alice moaning in pain when she sat down, and they arriving together at the compound.

“Oh my gosh,” Nat’s eyes widened as realization dawned her. She glanced between Steve and Alice, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “You two…” she began, her voice filled with amusement.

Steve shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “Nat, it’s not what you think,” he protested, though his tone lacked conviction.

Alice couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “Yeah, it’s exactly what you think,” she admitted.

Natasha chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you two are sleeping together,” she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, I’m happy for you both. It was time to move on. And you make a cute couple.”

Steve and Alice exchanged sheepish glances, their embarrassment quickly giving way to amusement. “Thanks, Nat,” Steve said with a sheepish grin.

“We’re still figuring things out, but we’re happy,” Alice added.

“Well, I won’t keep you two lovebirds any longer,” Natasha said, standing up from her chair. “But we’ll definitely have to catch up again soon.”

“Definitely,” Alice agreed, a smirk tugging at her lips.

As they said goodbye to Natasha and made their way out of the compound, Steve couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the awkwardness of being caught, he was grateful to have Natasha’s support and acceptance.

“So, that went well,” Alice commented as they walked side by side down the street.

“Yeah, surprisingly well,” Steve agreed, a hint of relief in his voice.

Alice bumped her shoulder against his playfully. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s only a matter of time before Rhodey, Carol, Okoye, Nebula, and Rocket know about it.”

Steve chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he admitted.

tags: @capswife

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#forsaken the fallen soldier #marvel fic #marvel oc #marvel series #marvel fanfic #steve rogers smut #captain america smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #mcu oc #mcu series #mcu fanfic #marvel

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