#he’s like save the show? I’ll do it myself lol

[underestimated-shadow]

Of all the showstoppers Death Rattle Dazzle had to offer on opening night, Oliver Putnam's unexpected, yet epic entrance onstage was the showstopper.

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 

he can feel the man swallowing. 

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 

limply, they fall to the floor. 

chuuya rushes over to you. 

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 

but you… you’re different. 

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 

dazai hums. “you the leader?” 

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

[kanmom51]

Jikook in bed - Part 1

I am pissed and in a not good way.

Worked over 4 hours writing this post, saved to drafts only for the whole damn thing to just disappear.

Did I mention I am pissed?

Cause I am.

Ok, let me take a breath and try to put down on paper my thoughts, hopefully I will remember some of them.  Sob sob.

Jikook in bed. 

Who would have thought that I would be writing a post about Jikook in bed? 

Please don't answer my rhetorical question, lol.

Who thought after the Jikook drought we got in 2023 that we would be getting this, eh?  And yet, here we are.  Me losing count of the number of posts I’ve already written about episodes 1 and 2 alone of Are you sure?! And I’m not done yet.  And another episode is coming today!!!

Did I mention just how overwhelmed I am?  In the very best way.  Well, other than being pissed at Tumblr for throwing away my hard work. 😭😭

I’ll be breaking this down into 2 parts because damn it, there is so much to say about these two short clips we get of the two in bed.  Both playful.  Both sus as shit.  If shit is sus – I guess we can ask JM on his thoughts about that – yes I did go there.  Poor man is not going to live this down, and now I understand why he kept asking if this could air – not because he was worried about their flirty handsy moments.  NOPE.  But because of the shit, lol.

Ok, so part 1 will be focusing on the brushing teeth in bed, while part 2 will focus on the handsy cuddly butt wacky master bedroom action.

When watching the whole brushing teeth in bed I had to ask myself a multiple why’s?

Why brush teeth in the bedroom? 

Or more so, why in that bedroom?

Why not in the bathroom?

Perhaps because we would see they are both using the master bedroom ensuite?

It’s not that we couldn’t deduce that from the footage, but that would take more looking into, which let’s be real, most army don’t do.  They watch it once or twice and many don’t pay attention to the details.  A lot of details need us to view the footage multiple times something that most army are not into – they don’t care to find out more.  They see the surface, JK and JM being cute, and that’s enough for them to say “oh, they are so brotherly…. Such brotherly love…” without wanting to see anything else.

But if you do look closer you see A LOT.

You see that JM does the tour of the house, showing us 4 bedrooms, first one being a master bedroom with a king size bed and an ensuite he shows us.

An ensuite we later see JK in while preparing to go out shopping.

So yes.  They were both using the same bathroom in that huge modern fancy house with 4 bedrooms and obviously more than one bathroom that happened to be the ensuite to the master bedroom.

And perhaps they didn’t want it to be too obvious.  Because why use that same bathroom? 

*side note: at this point, when JM goes to check on JK there is clearly a staff member in there with them. The way the camera moves the angle of filming changes, it's clear that is not a static camera, unlike the ones we got from the bedrooms and hallway at night and in the morning. It looks like the staff member is using JM's go pro to film that and as JM walks out of the bathroom the camera changes hands and JM has it. And I state this because most of the time there wasn't staff in the house with them. For a lot of the time they had the house to themselves. My educated guess would be that just like we saw they had control over the cameras in the house, could easily turn them on and off (JK with the hallway camera), they were the ones to decide when the staff can join them in the house to film or resume filming.

Another possible reason why we got the bedroom scene would be that they didn’t want to place a camera in the bathroom, which they obviously didn’t. I mean, that bathroom was rather small – you know, as ensuites usually are, and having them both stand there and brush their teeth would be cramped and uncomfortable (we saw that in Sapporo we did have them place that camera for us to see them brush their teeth side by side).  Also, obviously they wouldn’t want permanent cameras placed in the bathroom for privacy reasons – duh.  Even if they did have control over turning the cameras on and off. In Sapporo it’s clearly a camera they set up themselves, one they could just pick up and take away. They placed it there for the purpose of filming themselves brushing their teeth side by side. 

So basically, imo, this whole brushing teeth in the bedroom JK was supposedly sleeping in was a combination of it all.

They wanted us to see them brush their teeth prior to going to sleep.  They didn’t want us to see that they were sharing the ensuite bathroom (the bathroom connected to the room JM was sleeping in).

And the cherry to top it all is showing us this is where JK is going to spend the night.

Because that was somehow something they needed to show us.

Unlike the cabin with the one bed, that didn’t ‘allow’ for another option, the two spending the night in the same bed while there are another 3 lovely empty rooms available, would be too much perhaps.

You know, deniability and all. 

Makes even more sense seeing this was filmed in July 2023, and the two did not know just yet what lies ahead of them when it comes to their enlistment.

Let’s talk about that for a sec, why don’t we?

Those cameras in the house, they were placed ahead of time.  Before the two arrived.  I’m talking about the permanent cameras – the ones downstairs, the one in the hallway, the one in JK’s bedroom, the one in the master bedroom.

This was decided ahead of time – that they will not be sharing a bedroom.  Not on camera anyway. And this wasn’t their decision!

I don’t think that JM asking while standing in that room whether to sleep together with JK, adding a comment about getting hit was an actual contemplation on his part.  I think it was him signalling that it’s definitely an option and perhaps the reason why he won’t be is because of not wanting to get hit.  Him doing all of that when JK is there in the room with him (probably going through his luggage which was probably there too – we don’t get to see, but it makes sense seeing how small the other room was and the fact that JK was using the ensuite).  We also see JK throw something onto the bed – perhaps a heat pack he took out of that luggage?  But he’s there and they leave the room together shortly after.

"Should I sleep next to Jungkook tonight? Will he hit me again?"...

Again, let me be clear here with what I’m saying.  JM asking this was a mute question, and he knew it, seeing that they were both well aware of the fact that cameras were already placed in the two bedrooms expecting them not to be sharing that bed.  At least not on camera.

And you know where else you see that bemusement about the separate beds?

In the trailer where we get them in Sapporo the two standing in the hotel room JK asking JM which bed he wants to choose.  JM’s reaction super telling. 

And what about the house in Jeju?  Clearly that second bed was brought up from the room downstairs (we know that from the original layout of the house).  Yes, Tae was joining.  But wouldn’t that be less sus them sharing a bed?  We’ve seen them all share beds in previous content.  Tae literally shared one with his mates back in 2022.  I guess that the idea was to show us that when there is an option they won’t share a bed?  That the CT cabin was a ‘must’ as there was only one bed and there was no choice?  Strange, seeing that there were other options for cabins that were not 1 shared bed.  Well, never mind that.  In any case I guess there was need for the deniability, seeing as to how cozy those two were the next day in that one bed in the master bedroom. 

Seeing that plus knowing they shared a bed could be construed as too much perhaps.

Btw, you know what that whole scene in bed reminded me of?

Remember that time JK was asked what his favourite memory from their trip to Tokyo?

Remember his answer?

JM staying up until 5 am on his phone and sleeping in the next morning?

Sorry, but that constant smirk on JM's face... to die...

and

Yes Jeon. "He" didn't sleep at night. That's why both of you overslept the next day.

*Side note: at the end of the interview/sit down JM won a gift which guess who was given straight away?

Well, them in bed together there in CT, seeing those few seconds we were allowed to see (with the many cuts) – that is how I picture them in Tokyo on that trip.  Those calm almost boring moments in bed together.  On their phones.  Snuggling.  Playing.  Just enjoying being next to each other, just the two of them, outside world be damned. 

That is what JK loved most in Tokyo. That is what was most memorable to him (our introvert sweetie).

And he got that here as well.

You could argue: "what's the difference here from the two spending time together in bed in Seoul at either of their palaces?" And my answer to that would be:

EVERYTHING.

How can you even compare? Being back in Seoul, with all the playing around their schedules and stress and pressures and anxiety that still linger even when you are home, even when you are together with your loved one. You can't compare it to this. JM taking the time off to be with him. JK taking the couple of days off during his promotions for his first solo debut. Getting away from it all. Spending those 3 days together alone. No work. No stress. No pressure. Even with JK feeling physically off and JM's diarrhea. Just the two of them, away. Away from everything and everyone. Having those tiny every so important soft moments.

Or in layman's words: having a cuddle at home is not the same as having that cuddle when away, taking that time to spend together as a couple. It's just not the same. It's so much more. And that is also why it was so memorable for JK back in 2017.

I’m getting kind of emotional here folks.  Don’t mind me.

Let’s get back to the brushing teeth in bed, shall we?

Again, in the second bedroom and not the master, even though it’s the master ensuite they are using as a bathroom!!

Why not see them brush their teeth on the master bed?  Yeah, I think I answered that one already.  We weren’t supposed to deduct that JK was using the master ensuite.

We were to know that JK was sleeping in that room, we even got to see him go to sleep and wake up there.  It was very important that we see that.  Not make a mistake that maybe, just maybe, they spent the night together.

What do I think, you ask?  I will tell you, even if you didn’t ask, lol.

I think that JK probably did sleep in that bed for a bit.  A BIT.  Like a really really short bit.

I also think that they spent much time together in that one bed in the master bedroom.  They got the pre-sleep cuddles (that we didn’t get to see) and they got the post-sleep cuddles (that we also didn’t get to see – and I’ll get into that in the next post – just saying that JK walking into the room and out of it after he woke up – the first time he goes in and out – there was a HUGE chunk cut out of the footage).

Oh, and they got the post-JK eating crap for breakfast- cuddles too.

This isn’t going the way I wanted it to, lol.  I’m talking too much about stuff that is meant for part 2 of Jikook in bed.  You see, this is why it is all intertwined and if there wasn’t an issue with image limits or readers losing focus with too long posts this would all be one post.  But 'tis what 'tis and I have to stop talking about the master bedroom!!!

So, back to the toothbrushing.

This was them:

JK literally pulling JM down to lie on the bed.

The giggles (oh, what I want to say now and am holding myself back).

Their playfulness is on another level.

Add the legs over shoulder.

After JM laying his legs on JK's shoulders, JK grabbing the legs and pulling JM even closer in.

I love how with Jikook we live on moments that remind us of other moments. And this one kind of reminds me of another moment back from 2019 during rehearsal for the LY concerts, JM coming in behind JK to hold him and JK pulling JM's arm in for an even closer hug.

And we have cuts, of course.

So many of them.

Including this one.

And this one.

The cuts.  We should talk about them for a sec. 

There is hours and hours of footage, and obviously there are things that are deemed to end up on the editing room floor.  Footage that might be boring or irrelevant to whatever it is they want to be showing us.  There is also a time constrict that needs to be kept.  Understandably not everything can be left in.

But it’s some decisions that make you raise an eyebrow.  Some of those editing decisions that make you think – why cut this?  Why not leave the flow? 

And these moments are exactly those type of moments.

Obviously the fans will go crazy for seeing them be so playful and mucking around.  They are brushing their teeth and it’s clear this isn’t something that is going on for too long of a time.  So, why not allow us to see the FULL interaction?  I think we know the answer to that, don’t we?  Once again it’s those two being too much.  Too obvious.  Too handsy. Too couplie.

How exactly does JK end up with his back to us?

Why is he with his back to us?

Why is the whole scene with JM’s legs hanging over JK’s shoulders cut short?

And why does JK continue to be with his back to us after this has clearly ended and JM is sitting on the edge of the bed?

I kind of think that I know why JK was sitting with his back to us, and why it’s cut at that point and we never get to see them get out of that bed.

Great time to sign off.

See you for part 2 of Jikook in bed.

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 8)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

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

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

Part 8 - Trust

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

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

forgot to tag you in the deleted scene for TRDFAHS

M👻D☠️N👽I😈

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

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

Brady bit his tongue, wanting to say something sharp.

 I don’t see any ladies here.

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

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

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

“Autumn I’ll go with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

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

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

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

Brady rolled his eyes, “Of course not.”

“Then? What gives you the right?”

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

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

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

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

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

“If you don’t turn up tomorrow-,”

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

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

The conversation ended there, Brady leaving with a huff.

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

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

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

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

“….” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m coming over to the theater.”

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

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

“Alastor, that’s reckless.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” You shook your head.

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

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

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

“Did he say my name?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

“Did you me-?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“No I interrupted you-,”

“Not at all pl-,”

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

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

“Alabama?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Autumn.”

“Really? Never heard the name Autumn before.”

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

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

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

“And where can I find her?

“Corner of North Villere street and Piety.”

“And your address?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And who was that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too bad he’s not here to confirm.”

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“Beth’s dive.”

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

“He stopped coming when you stopped singing.”

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

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

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

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

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

Brady’s pencil stopped moving. 

“And his name?”

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

“John.”

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

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

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

“When you find him let me know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A standstill. 

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

Maybe he had been running himself ragged. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if he gets one?”

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

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

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

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

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

Would he be mad? Or maybe offended?

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

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

You tried to see him without directly turning your head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fingers.”

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

“Yours.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oooh, who is he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel l , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

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[slut4thebroken]

Exposure Therapy pt. 8

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | You make the poor choice of teasing Dr. Crane, so obviously he has to punish you.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, hickeys, praise, edging, crying (but in a hot way), consensual sex, orgasm denial, cockwarming?, emotions? idk, neither does he tbh, bestie has no idea how to comfort you💀

Words | 3.6k

Notes | Trying really hard to keep his character accurate😓 lmk what y’all think lol

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 7

Neither of you mentioned his confession again. He seemed to be acting mostly normal and only a little awkward and withdrawn so you tried to remain the same to assure him that nothing changed. You were sitting on the couch, doodling with a spare piece of paper he found as well as an extra pencil, when you broke the silence. 

“Where are you planning on sleeping?” You asked, eyeing the large space that was empty save for a desk, a chair, and a couch. 

“The couch.” He said, not looking up from what he was working on. 

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” You asked, making him sigh and turn his gaze to you. “For now you may sleep on the couch, I doubt I’ll be sleeping much anyway.” 

“Oh. Don’t you have an apartment? A bed?” 

“The cops are going to be looking for everyone that escaped, including myself- especially myself, because I created what caused all of that.” 

“Oh… What if I go? I can bring you back some clothes so you don’t have to stay in that and anything else you need? I doubt I can lift a mattress on my own though.” 

“You want to go to my apartment in the middle of town, wearing that?” He asked, raising his brows. You looked down at your outfit and frowned, just now remembering that you’re wearing it still. 

“People are dumb enough to hang their laundry up outside. I’ll just take something before getting downtown.” You suggested, but back tracked when he was silent for a moment. “I don’t have to, it was just an idea.” 

“What will you do if the police show up?” 

“Um… I’ll tell them you’re my boyfriend and I left something there that I need.” That made him scoff. 

“They won’t believe that.” 

“Fine. Ex boyfriend. Who’s been so busy working that I had to just go there myself.” You shrugged and he narrowed his eyes at you for a moment. 

“Fine. Know that if you get caught, I have no power or leverage anymore to help you.” Honestly you didn’t expect him to agree. You figured he might want to keep you within his sight at all times but that wasn’t the case. Trying not to read into this new found trust, you were going over the plan in your head. 

“Wait, is it even within walking distance?” You realized, worried the whole plan just fell apart. 

“It’s not on this island, so no. And the train is still down because of the bat.” 

“Oh… I can probably walk, it’ll just take me longer I guess.” The sun was rising anyway, so it’ll probably be fine. “Or I’ll ask someone for a ride.” 

“Do not do that.” He said sternly, making you frown. 

“Why not?” 

“Because this is Gotham and you are a young, attractive woman. You will more than likely be kidnapped, raped, or killed.” 

“What am I supposed to do then?” He let out a heavy sigh, and got something out of his desk drawer. When he told you to come to him, you stood, leaving the pencil and paper, and walked over. 

“Give me your hand.” You held your arm out to him and he gently grabbed your hand to put on a very weird shaped bracelet on your wrist. “In case you don’t have time to put the mask on, point it away from your face and hold your breath, then push this.” He pointed to a lever near the heel of your hand and you reached for it, trying to test the motion and get used to it, but he stopped you. 

“Not- now.” He strained, uncurling your fingers. 

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly. 

Then you were leaving, finding clothes that looked about the right size and changing in an alley behind a dumpster. The tricky part was the shoes but they’re subtle enough that they shouldn’t draw very much attention. You found an empty paper bag near the dumpster and put the mask in it then started looking for someone to drive you. You spotted an older woman getting into a car and immediately walked toward her. 

“Excuse me?” You said, making her pause. 

“No change, sorry.” 

“Oh no, I was actually hoping you could give me a ride. I have a job interview downtown and it probably wouldn’t make a good impression to show up all sweaty. But I understand if it’s too much trouble…” 

She only hesitated for a moment before agreeing, telling you to get in the back and asking for the address. You read it off the paper to her and ten minutes later you were pulling up in front of an apartment building. 

“You sure this is it?” 

“It’s for a small business.” You explained, quickly getting out of the car. “Thank you so much.” You dropped the smile as soon as you turned around to walk into the building. “Fuck,” You groaned, “I don’t have a fucking key.” How could you have forgotten that part? You decided to just walk inside, breathing a sigh of relief when you spotted a front desk. 

“Hi, I lost my key and my boyfriend’s out of town and I’m supposed to feed his cat,” 

“What number?” The man asked, bored. 

“178.” He reached back and grabbed a key, handing it to you impatiently. “Thanks...” He wasn’t lying when he said everyone and everything is corrupt or just doesn’t care. 

You made your way to the elevator and pushed 17. As you waited, you went over the list he gave you. Most of the stuff was easy, an extra pair of glasses in his desk drawer, a few pairs of clothes, shoes, a toothbrush as well as the extra one under the sink for yourself, etc. But you were mostly worried about the safe and the papers he wanted. What if you can’t open it? What if you grab the wrong ones?

The elevator opening with a ding removed you from your thoughts and you made your way to his door. You worked quickly, not wanting to increase your chances of getting caught, but you took the time to fold his suits, worried he’d be upset if you just threw them in his duffel bag. You opened the safe on the second try, putting the money that was in there in the duffel bag. 

Then you made your way to the desk. Even though the rest of the place was completely tidy, the desk was covered in different papers. He said they would be on top, not in a drawer, so you grabbed everything just to be safe. 

Before leaving, you went through his dresser, praying he wouldn’t be pissed, and got some shirts and sweatpants for yourself, as well as a hoodie and socks. 

The ride back was much easier since you had money to take a cab, but you still had to walk a few minutes, not wanting to be dropped off right in front of his “hideout” just in case. 

“No trouble?” He asked, barely glancing up from what he was writing. 

“Well I realized I forgot to ask about a key- speaking of which, you should probably move because the guy at the front desk just gave it to me.” The corners of his lips turned up and your cheeks went red, still not used to it. 

“Good job.” You stared at him in shock, feeling your cheeks heat up even more, but you tried to play it off. 

“Did you just compliment me?” You scoffed teasingly. 

“Don’t get used to it. Did you bring the papers I asked for?” 

“Oh- yeah.” You set the duffel bag on the desk and he opened it to inspect the contents. “I- I hope it’s okay, I brought just a few shirts and pants for myself too.” You said nervously. When he didn’t respond, you figured that meant it was okay. He started looking through the papers, then turned to you with raised brows. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring the wrong thing so I just took all of it.”

“Thank you.” He said, making your eyes widen. 

“Mhm.” Was all you could say in response. “Oh- here.” You said, suddenly remembering the wristband and taking it off to give it back. 

“Keep it.”

“What?” You choked out. “You- you’re not worried I’ll use it on you or something?” You asked, staring at him with furrowed brows. 

“Of course not.” He scoffed, then set the papers down and took out a suit and the shoes as you just waited awkwardly, not sure what to do. “Are you just going to watch?” He was teasing you, but there was still an edge to his voice. 

“N- no, sorry.” You blushed, turning around and staring at the ground, listening to the sound of clothes rustling behind you and thinking about how you’ve only ever seen his face, neck, hands, and cock- nothing else. The thought made you frown. “Unless it’s okay… then I’d like to watch.” You said quietly and the rustling stopped. 

“Why?” His tone was guarded. 

“I just- I haven’t seen you yet and you’ve seen all of me.” You explained meekly. “Nevermind, sorry.” You waited anxiously as you heard no movement from the man behind you. 

“Go ahead.” He said in a measured tone. You tentatively turned around, finding him in just a pair of dress pants, straight jacket on the floor and shirt in hand. The first thing you noticed was how lean he looks without his suit. The second were the small scars littering his torso. The third was his happy trail, leading down into his pants, teasing you. 

“Satisfied?” You looked up at him when you heard his voice, not able to read his expression. When all you could do was nod, his lips curled up into a small smirk. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll fuck you stupid over the desk.” He warned, voice laced with arousal. 

“Is that a promise, doctor?” You purred, stepping closer to him, setting the wristband on the desk to have both hands free. He stiffened, but allowed you to move until you were right in front of him. Staring deep into icy blue eyes, you slowly raised your hands, as if you were approaching a wild animal who could attack at any second. His eyes moved to your hands, watching, but he didn’t say anything. So you slowly moved them closer until you could almost feel the heat from his body against your palms. His eyes moved back to yours and you searched them for a deterrent. When you found nothing, you placed your hands on his chest, sliding them down his stomach, making sure not to linger on any scars. You reached his pants and brushed over the button teasingly before snaking them back up his body. 

“You’re playing with fire.” He said lowly. Your hands reached his shoulders and you trailed them down his arms. Once you reached his hands, you grabbed the shirt and set it on the desk, then took both of his hands in yours, moving them around your waist. 

“On the contrary, Dr. Crane. I’m getting exactly what I want.” You placed your hands on his stomach again to snake around to his back. 

“Oh? And what’s that?” He said coyly, playing along. 

“You can let me keep teasing you to my heart's content or you can punish me. Either way I win.” You smirked, moving your hands down his back to his pants and following the waist line around his body until they met at the button. 

“You think you’ll enjoy however I choose to punish you?” He scoffed. 

“You said it yourself, doctor. You don’t want to hurt me. So I’m sure I can take it.” His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight enough to make you wince as he pushed you against the desk. 

“Foolish girl. You underestimate my desire to watch you crying and begging for my forgiveness. I have no problem torturing you, in fact, I’ll enjoy it.” You faltered at that. “Does that frighten you?” He asked, tilting his head. 

“You don’t scare me anymore.” You said quietly, feeling the arousal in your stomach quickly make its way between your legs. 

“That’s not what I asked.” He teased and you swallowed thickly, squirming under his gaze. 

“No.” You tried to keep your voice steady. 

“Maybe not yet. But I’m sure it will soon.” He reached a hand up to wrap around your neck, squeezing and pulling you forward as your breath hitched. “I don’t have to hurt you to torture you. You should know that by now.” He said quietly, gaze straying to your lips. 

“I can take it.” You said, equally as quiet, not even believing the words as they left your mouth. 

“You think so?” He cooed and you nodded in response. “I guess we’ll find out then.” He took a step back and you whined at the loss of his touch, reaching out for him. “Pick it up.” He said, gesturing to the straight jacket. Your eyes moved anxiously between him and the garment, hesitating. “This is the only warning I’m giving you— You don’t want me to tell you again.” You leaned down and picked up the straight jacket, then waited for his next command. 

“Put it on.” 

“Dr. Crane,” You whined, but he raised his brows, making you close your mouth and reluctantly slide it on. He stepped closer again then started buckling the restraints. 

“You seem to think that pain is the only form of punishment I’ll inflict. I guess given my history I shouldn’t be surprised but you need to get that idea out of your head right now or things will only get worse for you.” You stared at him with wide eyes but his gaze remained on the task of restraining you. “There are plenty of ways I can punish you.” He said clinically, like a doctor explaining something to a patient. “Like denial, for example. Not just orgasm denial… You can’t touch me either.”  

“Please- I’m sorry.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes that did not work at all. 

“I bet you are. I bet you’ll say whatever it is you think I want to hear right now. Unfortunately, the only sounds I want from you are moans and cries.” He led you over to the couch and kneeled in front of you to pull down your pants and underwear before having you sit. He discarded your shoes so he could fully remove your clothes, then pulled you forward to the edge of the couch and spread your legs embarrassingly wide. 

“I think you also underestimate my patience. I am more than willing to do this as long as it takes.” He started dragging his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you, never getting close to where you wanted him.   

“Please.” You whined as your hips started squirming. 

“Come now… We haven’t even started and you’re already begging? At least save that until the actual torture begins.” 

“Don’t want torture.” You muttered. 

“No? I thought you said this would be a win for you? That you can take it.”

“Please.” You whined, much brattier this time— all but throwing a fit.  

“There’s that attitude.” He chuckled. “Keep that up. It makes it more fun for me when you break.” His hands snaked up your thighs, then back down, teasing you. You whined and squirmed, but surprisingly, it worked. He moved a hand between your legs, swiftly pushing in two fingers and rapidly curling them against your walls. You let out a choked moan from the sudden pleasure as your head rolled back onto the couch and your hips bucked. He pulled you even farther down the couch, then leaned down and took your clit in his mouth. 

“Oh fuck,” You said through a moan, hips flinching as he groaned against you in response. Lifting your head to look down at him, you found his eyes already on you, making you blush and squirm under his gaze. After getting so turned on and not coming when you sucked him off before, your orgasm approached quickly. The volume of your moans increased as you started trying to rut against his face. He suddenly pulled back, his fingers halting, making you whine. 

“Please, I was so close.” You pouted. 

“I know.” He leaned back down, resuming the motions of his fingers as he started working your clit over in his mouth again. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, but you let out a choked sob when he stopped. 

“Please!” You cried. 

“Shh. Be a good girl and take your punishment.” He muttered before leaning back down and continuing. You weren’t sure how many times you were on the cusp of pleasure before it was ripped away from you, but you knew it was at least five— after that you weren’t able to concentrate on counting through your crying and desperation. He pulled back but continued moving his fingers as you babbled out incoherent pleas. 

“I have to admit, my patience is wearing thin so I’ll only keep this up for a little longer.” You sobbed in relief at his words. “Once I’m ready to come, I’m gonna fuck your ass. Remember how much you liked it before? It won’t be nearly as pleasurable this time and you certainly won’t be able to come from it.” 

“No- no, please.” You said, panicked. The thought of being empty was enough to intensify your crying. “Please- I don’t care if I don’t come, just please fuck me.” You whimpered. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He said softly, but you just shook your head. 

“No, I- I need your cock- please!” 

“How do I know you won’t come?” He asked, slowing his fingers to a stop before removing them, making you whimper at the emptiness. 

“I won’t! Please- I promise I won’t!” He watched you cry for a moment before cursing under his breath and working on taking his cock out of his pants. 

“Can’t fucking say no to you.” He muttered, helping you to lay down on the couch as he crawled over you. The second he pushed in, you let out a relieved sob that turned into a whine when you tried to move your arms. 

“Please- I want to touch you. Please let me touch you.” You whimpered, watching the way his brows furrowed as his mouth opened in a silent moan when he was all the way in. 

“I can’t, you still need to be punished.” He said breathlessly and you sobbed the hardest you have all night so far.  

“Please! Please- I’m sorry!” You cried and he shushed you as he brought a hand up to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. 

“I know, it’s okay.” He cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you as he slowly started moving. Trailing kisses up your jaw to your ear, he whispered, “You’re doing so well, little one. Making me feel so good.” You sobbed harder at the pet name— not used to such affection from him. 

“Oh god,” You moaned, already feeling close again. When he picked up the pace and began kissing and marking your neck, you started panting again. You tried to at least tone down your sobbing a little bit, but after you started, it was really hard to stop. 

“Fuck- I’m already close.” He whined, rutting into you desperately now. His hands never left your body as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out quiet moans and shaky breaths. When he stilled with a low groan, your cunt ached at the way his cock was twitching inside you, painting your walls with his come. After a moment, his moans stopped and he was panting heavily into your shoulder. When he started pulling out, you sobbing intensified. 

“No! Please- please don’t- not yet.” You whimpered. 

“I need to get this off of you.” He said, lifting his head from your neck to look at the straight jacket. 

“I don’t care- just please don’t leave yet.” You cried. 

“Okay- It’s okay. Sit up like this.” He maneuvered you so that he was sitting on the couch and you were straddling his hips, his cock never leaving you. He started working on the straight jacket, unbuckling all of it until he could slip it off if you and toss it on the floor. Now that your hands were free, you realized that you couldn’t even do anything with them, not without making him uncomfortable. So you continued crying. 

“Okay, just- come here.” He muttered, pulling you down to lay on his chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders tight as you turned your cheek, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his skin. His hands fumbled around for a moment before eventually settling on your hips and you knew that he was probably miserable right now. Honestly you’re surprised he didn’t just throw you off of him instead. 

“I’m sorry- I…” He shushed you, not letting you continue babbling out apologies. 

“Just breathe.” He said softly and you couldn’t help but obey. You let out a slow shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. “That’s it. Just focus on breathing. You did so well for me, I’m very proud.” You let out another quiet sob at the praise and shushed you again as he moved a hand up to your hair, lightly stroking it to soothe you. 

“You’re okay.” He said softly. “Just breathe— you’re okay.”

Part 9

(For the sake of the plot, bestie is no longer taking oral contraceptives because he had her get an iud or something back in Arkham lol)

[put-them-thangs-away]

while i figure that out, not sure if anyone has done it yet, but i want to do a little dive into the basics of the tarot cards used in this jack & joker episode, now that i actually have a moment and can do more than just the basic off the top of my head readings. i’ll be using the golden thread tarot deck mostly because i like how concise it is and also its more accessible to me right now underneath my sleeping dog than my shelf of decks in my room lmao. this is gonna be,,,, real long probably so all the details will be under the cut, if you wanna join me for my rambling:

fun little sidenote before i get started: when i went to begin discussing why i love the use of tarot and nang’s characterization specifically, my card of the day that i drew was the Queen of Swords which is like 100000% The Nang Card™️ lol [complexity, perceptive, clear mindedness etc.]

“a woman of immense complexity, sometimes considered cold-hearted, but also sharp of mind and wit, independent and possessing great powers of organization and analysis.” i won’t go down the rabbit hole of sword suits as a whole bc that’s not the point of this post and so far the show hasn’t gone into minor arcana, so i’m just gonna say HMMMMM very inch resting timing,,,,, anyways,,,

now, of course i have to start with joke’s card and its myriad of double meanings. in just about any piece of media, if you see The Fool card it should automatically be flagged as a red herring. it’s meant for you to look at it and take it at face value based on the words and image…. much like our four little idiots did when first shown their cards. like JOKE YOU GOT THE FOOL BECAUSE YOU’RE A DUMBASS LOL! and he’s the joker so of course he would also be the fool, yes? unfortunately for our little baby clown, the actual symbolism of the card is childlike innocence and naivety, often to their own detriment. it speaks of blank slates, new beginnings, and the start of a journey. “he does not know the dangers that can beset him during his travels, and thus he stumbles forward with complete optimism, never suspecting that he may be walking in a thin tight rope.” oof yikes. sound familiar? nang rly read that boy for filth huh,,,, aside from the obvious heavy handed post-prison clean slate, we’ve also got the metaphor connected to jack’s forgiveness and starting their relationship over. there’s a lot more to be said here as well about how naive joke can be when thinking he’s doing the right thing and that his choices are for the sake of someone else, without clearly seeing the consequences their may be for that person as a result of his actions. at the risk of Never Shutting Up About It, i will have to make myself move on.

i’ll get into tattoo’s card next because it’s really interesting to me that he was assigned The World, which I kind of would have thought would be a card assigned to jack instead. i see what they were going for in this episode with it, i think, but it felt a bit shallow in comparison, so there may be more in relation to this that we have yet to see. as The Fool is the first card (0) in the major arcana, The World is the final card (21). this card symbolizes an ending of a cycle of life, specifically before the beginning of a new cycle of life. it’s an indicator of major and inescapable change. throughout this episode, we see the shift in tattoo’s heart and priorities being held up in comparison to their past heist through some pretty straightforward parallels, so from that angle, The World makes perfect sense. (especially since one reading of The World when in reverse is inertia & stagnation) tattoo wanting to run in and save joke when he thinks he’ll be caught in the heist is our window in to see The World changing. that being said i find it interesting that this card would be chosen for him since it sort of,,,, kickstarts the journey for The Fool and is generally somewhat,,,, final. so i’m just reeeaaaalllllyyyy hoping that this does not mean tattoo has to actually end his cycle in any way other than metaphorical for the other to continue. the man has grown on me, what can i say? 😭 we’re just gonna ignore all those warning bells in my head and choose to go with the “accomplishment and fulfillment from both inner and outer sources” reading. yup.

then we’ve got arun, whose card is The Moon, which is double fun because arun’s name means dawn/sunrise. there’s a lot of meaning that could be extrapolated here, but based on tattoo’s card seeming on surface level to be about the state of his heart and his involvement in this little found family, i’m going to guess that arun’s is the same. The Moon card symbolizes intuition, the unconscious, illusion, and deception. it can be read as a signal of something being not as it appears, a truth you cannot admit to yourself, instincts that we have buried in our unconscious, among other things. this card being chosen for arun actually actively makes me more nervous than tattoo getting The World lol. if we choose to read it at surface value, could just be that in this heist he had to follow intuition, and got himself turned around in the process (eagle statue etc), or just generally that he did not previously appear capable, but here he is helping this mission be pulled off. with the opening scene of arun crying about missing his dad and that,,,, not really getting resolved actually,,,,,, that makes me wonder about some alternate reading options, but like,,,,,, i don’t want to. so. Simply going to close my eyes on that one! no thanks!

then of course there’s everyone favourite head empty good boy, hoy, who was assigned The Star card. out of all the card readings, this boy got the most straightforward one and i’m trying not to read too much into that since they were all assigned by nang and my brain hasn’t quite caught up to [handwaves] whatever she and hoy have got going on over there. this card is symbolic of faith, optimism, and hope. so….. yeah hoy in a nutshell. not a whole lot more to add in there.

skipping The Heirophant card and The Tower card to come back to later because i have Some Theories there and they may make more sense after i go back and rewatch a few things

ANYWAYS if you read to the end of this thank you and i’m sorry please feel free to yell at me about it

[sunnys-out]

Your damn cherry chapstick | Alex Morgan

a/n: from this prompt list. Let's pretend that voicemails can actually be this long lol.

Prompt Request: 10. I still remember how you taste...

Warnings: Implied Smut, MDNI, cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 573

Part 2 here

You have one new message

“God, I shouldn't even be doing this, fuck, how long since we talked talked?... I shouldn’t have had that stupid fucking wine... Fuck, like it matters, you probably are going to delete this once you see it’s from me…I’m not here to say congrats on marrying Servando…nah you know that’s not very me.”

Pause

“I regret introducing you to Servando, I really do…I would’ve been the one dancing with you at that Gala. I was just sitting there drinking away at that cheap ass, champagne they gave us and overlooking the campus while you were having the time of your life.”

Pause

“Funny, he looked so happy having you in his arms that day when not even hours before I was in between your legs, Morgan. I thought I had you back completely but you broke up whatever we had and went running to him once we got to the end of the year Gala for Cal Soccer”

Pause

“Do you remember that last time? You showed up at my apartment after skipping your Philosophy lecture wanting to “see me again” after ignoring me for weeks because you were with Servando. Hell, talking lasted 6 minutes before you pushed me against the wall begging me to kiss you…”

“I still remember how you taste, Alex…even the taste of your damn, cherry, chapstick. The sounds you made for me then are ingrained in my head...God, I’ll never forget. The way that it was all because of me and I was the only one who could make you feel that way… you said it yourself. Fuck, I wouldn’t have let you go that morning if I had known it was the last time; maybe things would have been different.”

Pause

“Nah, you knew what you were doing. It was just a fucking goodbye, wasn’t it? Got my hopes up and just broke it the moment you saw Servando?!? Fuck, Alex, you know what, I’m glad I had that career-ending injury in  Portland, I saved myself all that time pining over you, wishing to have your back…”

Pause

“That sounded pathetic of me…’I still remember how you taste, Alex’ like that isn't the sound of pining over someone. Hell, you wouldn’t have said the same for me maybe because I didn’t let you…I was just happy tasting you and having you all to myself.”

Pause

“You know Servando actually texted me asking me if I wanted to be invited to the wedding. Said that I slipped through the cracks in planning…Funny, wonder if that was intentional on your part, babe. Afraid that you’ll leave Servando immediately if you see me. I mean you did that but to me back all those years ago…why wouldn’t you do it again?”...Anyways, Sev, pushed the idea that I give a speech of how I introduced you two…I declined of course…said I was busy.  

Pause 

“Is it cocky for me to assume I was the best you ever have? Probably… Anyways good luck on this marriage thing. Tell Servando that his ass should be happy that I introduced him to “the love of his life”. I hope you remember me the way that I remember you, I love you Alex Morgan, I’ve always had…it’d be ironic if I said don’t be a stranger because you do that all on your own…”

“Don’t you dare text me…I swear to God, Alex Morgan”

End of Message

[unnaturalequilibrium]

Capítulo 2 & 3

- Mafin rewatch (Sueños de Libertad)

Watching the de la Reina siblings is a hoot. It's all so deliciously dysfunctional. Damian's three porcelain dolls, all dressed up and filled with generational trauma. How could that not be fun to watch?! I enjoy that Marta is the action oriented one of them. The boys bicker, but she refuses to play their game, instead tries for a solution and an action forward. It’s notable that both brothers turn to her as if her agreement, her word actually holds sway. They’re already making a point of this being a man’s world, but these men, even if it’s a means to play out each other, hang on her word and give it weight.

I’m kind of sad Jesús is such a right villain, because I enjoy him and Marta together. They play off each other well and you instantly get the nuances between them, making it super easy to envision how things were before Andrés return. The way they’ve kept that business afloat, probably stood side by side against their father on a number of occasions. I feel like they’ve kept each other alert, maybe a bit too guarded, but also with a sense of mutual respect despite all of the other muddled feelings of jealousy and resentment and old-fashioned sibling rivalry. In a world where Jesús wasn't such an evil man I think this could have been one of my favourite relationships on the show, if they'd taken the time to develop it more. Especially in the way she yields to him in the beginning and how her character growth comes into play later on.

Carmen is the boss you want to have before she’s even anyone’s boss. The way she is straightforward and stands up to Marta for her own and her fellow workers sake and safety. I wish she was my workplace Union rep. She’s such a competent lady and I'd gladly line up behind. But why throw fucking caveman Tasio around her neck like a noose I’ll never understand. Though I’m getting ahead of myself, or ahead of the show at least.

I mean seriously, what’s up with that opening credit?! Of all the characters, they get a two shot. In bed. The two of them who at this point in time have nothing to tie them together. A flimsy string of connection through fathers, through work. I wasn’t here from the start, but I assume they were shipped from day one? Granted by my arguing maybe Gaspar and Tasio should be shipped too, but at least those two aren't in bed together. And no, don't enlighten me if there are people who do ship them. Some things I'd rather go through life without knowing. This would be one of those.

Lol, Luz is so no-nonsense as she saves Damian's life. “Stop praying and let me stab him with a giant needle, you rich fools!”. Her and Begona sharing the medical field and a bit of empathy with each other is nice too. An ensemble cast that is balanced between men and women seldom leave room for a lot of female friendship, but this one does. I appreciate that.

Fina establishing from the very beginning what she thinks of men, and especially the fool ones like Carmen's deadbeat boyfriend. I feel you. And I am in love with the way she throughout all the episodes to date will be used as a way of voicing what the tired lesbian feminist in all of us wishes she could say, out loud.

If trolls exist, you know like proper giant ones, the kind that can be mistaken for a mountain, covered in moss and trees and then suddenly just opens its eyes and stands up to stretch. You know the kind of trolls you think of when listening to Grieg's In the Mountain King's Hall - yeah those. I imagine if they existed then they'd sound exactly like a sickly Don Damian, like a melodic stone avalanche. That said I’ve never envision mountain trolls to sound Spanish before now. But maybe that’s on me.

Joaquín is a bit of an ass, calling Fina (and the rest of them) lazy - my eyes are narrowed. It wasn’t actually something he developed when he got on my shitlist by flirting with the secretary while having a cute as a button wife or pointing a gun at Marta. Apparently the assery was a pre-existing condition. It’s interesting though that Luis is the one talking about taking over the company, yet he still comes off as the decent one of them.

“You don’t notice the boys?”- Petra, you blonde little snake, don’t call my Fina out like that. Maybe we're allowed to know she's a lesbian, but don't flaunt it in front of the entire canteen like that. It’s kind of funny though how Fina is so clear about Luis not being her type, yet there are so many common denominators between him and Marta both in personality and in physicality (except of course the most important one in this case, their sex).

I know he’s supposed to be one of the good guys, but honestly, Andrés is a bit of a douchebag, isn’t he?! Or maybe that's a bit harsh, but he comes across as pretty smarmy. He's like what the wall behind your stove would be if anthropomorphised, kind of greasy, kind of sticky and in constant need of being hosed down. But yay for not letting the roof drop on your employees, I guess.

[copias-girl]

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter VII

**NEW SONG**

A/N: *chanting* SLEEPOVER CHAPTER SLEEPOVER CHAPTER SLEEPOVER CHAPTER 👏🏻 Also! I actually have the pyjama set in real life lol just google ‘garage bored pyjama set’ and you can see pics of it lol ♥︎

All chapters <3

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

You were excited, getting everything ready for the sleepover you had planned with your girlfriends, desperately overdue for some much-needed girl time. Ever since Cardinal Copia’s arrival, you hadn’t exactly been on the same page as your friends. It’s not like you were a saint; you enjoyed gossipy shit-talking just as much as they did, but you just couldn’t stand the way they ruthlessly bullied Copia. And in some respects, you were even bullying him too. However, you were doing it in a completely different way than they were; you were sexy-bullying the poor man. And admittedly, you were enjoying it far too much.

You missed how things used to be between you and the other sisters, but they were acting like total assholes to someone who didn’t even deserve it. You were the youngest out of them, yet they were the ones acting juvenile. So you were hoping that, with any luck, this fun sleepover would help to get you and the other girls on the same wavelength once more; allowing you to all wind down, let loose, and have some laughs.

The only rule? No boys allowed.

And you were ecstatic when all the girls enthusiastically agreed, because that meant Rob wouldn’t somehow find himself there; as much as he would probably enjoy that.

You were currently making your way to the ministry kitchen, where your friends would be gathering some various snacks for the sleepover. You were especially excited for the pink heart-shaped marshmallows you’d gotten at the grocery store. You had yet to try them and this night seemed like the perfect occasion.

However, as you neared the kitchen, you could hear exclamations of panic and frightened screams.

“What’s going on, is everything okay?” You rushed through the door, not knowing what to expect. A kitchen fire? Did someone get cut with one of the sharp knives?

However, you weren’t at all prepared for the sight with which you were met.

Emily, Mable, Lilith, and Ava were all standing on the kitchen counter screaming. And- Sweet mother of Satan, even Rob was up there too, screaming like a little girl and wielding a broomstick.

“What in Satan’s asshole is going on?!” You asked incredulously, looking around and not seeing any source of imminent danger.

“It’s a-” Mable cried.

“A r-” Lilith was so horrified she couldn’t even finish her sentence.

“A rat!” Emily shrieked.

You turned, half expecting to see poor Copia just trying to grab a snack, but he wasn’t there. It was then that you heard the squeaking, which sent your friends into another fit of screams and helpless cries.

“Hurry, come up here or it’ll get you!” Ava shouted, all of them holding your hands out to you.

“Girls, stay here. I’ll jump down, grab her, and lift her up onto the counter.” Rob declared solemnly, as if he were about to jump into a volcano and save you.

“No, Robbie, it’s dangerous!” The sisters all cried.

“It’s a risk I have to take.” He stated. “I’ll be quick.” He rolled up his sleeves, no doubt just trying to show off his muscles. “Here, baby, when I jump down lemme just grab you and-”

“You’ll do no such thing.” You responded calmly. “Besides, I’m perfectly capable of climbing onto the counter myself. I do it every time I have to get something out of the cabinet.”

“But you can’t just stay there, the rat’s down there!” Lilith pleaded with you.

“What are you doing?!” Emily shrieked in horror when you got on your knees, opening the bottom cupboards and making a “pspspsps” sound.

“I’m trying to find the rat, duh.” You responded casually. “Pspspspsps.”

“Good idea, babe, you lure it out and I’ll hit it with the broom.” Rob nodded at you.

“Don’t you dare! I’ll shove that broomstick straight up your ass if you try anything like that.” You shot him a dirty look, continuing your search. You followed the squeaking noise; obviously the rat was frightened by all the commotion.

“Alright, alright, Satan..” Rob murmured.

Grabbing a piece of cheese from the fridge, you opened a cupboard and caught a glimpse of it. You hushed everyone, kneeling on the floor and holding out the cheese.

Within a few moments, a little sniffing nose and some whiskers poked out from inside a cracker box. The rat cautiously made its way out, instantly bringing a smile to your face.

“Hi there. Want some cheese with your crackers?” You giggled. The adorable agouti hooded rat made its way over to you, sniffing around you before climbing right into your lap, taking the chunk of cheese into its little hand-like paws and nibbling away at it with fervour.

You couldn’t help but grin, as it finished the cheese, sniffing around you and looking up at you expectantly as if to ask for more. Carefully, you picked the little creature up and held it against your bosom, petting down its back and stroking a finger along its cheeks.

“Aren’t you precious?” You cooed before turning to your friends, who were still huddled on the counter, watching you with wide eyes and terror-stricken faces.

“I honestly can’t believe you guys are so scared of such a cute little thing.” You rolled your eyes, going back to lavishing the rat with attention, giggling when it began licking you to show its affection.

“What’s your name, huh?” You baby-talked it. “Oh, you’re just so cute!”

It wasn’t long before you heard a panicked voice and hurried steps coming from down the corridor.

“Biscotti?? Biscotti???” The voice called out worriedly. “Biscotti, dove sei??”

You grinned, recognizing the voice to be none other than Copia. From what you could tell, he had bumped into someone yet again.

“Ah, shit! M-mi dispiace! I-I’m very sorry but, ah… W-well I was looking for someone- eh, something, actually. H-have you seen a little rat around here?” He stuttered nervously.

“Um… no?” The sibling responded.

“N-no?? But… eh.. are you sure? She- she’s white with a grey head, si? A very good rat, eh.. sturdy, you know? Like a potato?” He attempted to describe it, and although you couldn’t see him, you were sure he was gesturing wildly with those gloved hands of his.

“No, um… I haven’t seen any rats around, sorry…” The sibling awkwardly replied.

“O-okay.. ehm.. thank you..” Copia sighed, continuing his frantic search once more. “Biscotti? Come out, Biscotti!”

Suddenly, the Cardinal burst into the kitchen, his mismatched eyes frantically looking all around before spotting you. His gaze landed first on your face, and then on the rat you were holding, who was currently nuzzling into your chest.

“S-Sorella!” The man gasped.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Enter Rat #2. Maybe you can hit this one with the broom.” She scoffed, causing Rob to snort out a laugh.

You got to your feet, a gentle and inviting smile gracing your pretty face as the Cardinal approached you.

“You found Biscotti!” He softly exclaimed, a relieved grin pulling at his lips.

“I sure did.” You beamed, holding the rat against your chest with one hand, still petting it with your other.

Your back was to the counter where your friends were, and just as Rob swung the broom down to try and hit Copia, your free hand shot out and blindly grabbed the stick before it could hit the Cardinal. Without even changing your kind expression, you ripped the broom out of his hand and tossed it across the kitchen where it clattered to the floor.

Everyone was shocked at your lightning-fast reflexes, especially since you couldn’t have even seen what Rob was doing.

“Guys, would you stop being embarrassing and get off the counter?” You glanced over your shoulder at your friends momentarily.

Copia swallowed nervously as you stepped closer to him. You gently took one of his hands, placing it onto the rat.

“Look, Biscotti, Daddy’s here.” You giggled.

The Cardinal’s pink blush instantly turned to crimson as you referred to him as ‘daddy’, although he felt utterly ashamed for having dirty thoughts about the innocently cute comment you’d made.

“S-si, I was so worried about you. And so was your best friend, Crema.” He murmured.

You smiled; Cookies and Cream. Satanas, this man was adorable.

“So the rumours are true. You do keep rats.” You remarked.

“Ehm, yes..” Copia nodded nervously.

The two of you stood close, comfortable silence falling between the two of you as you both pet Biscotti and scratched behind her ears.

“She likes you.” The Cardinal smiled, shy painted eyes flicking up to your face for a moment.

“I really like her too.” You replied quietly, stepping even closer to Copia.

“I, eh, I never thought you would be the type to like rats….” He remarked, eyes once again scanning over your face for a split second, lingering on your lips for just a moment longer.

“They’re my favourite, actually.” You nodded, giggling when the rat began licking you again.

Copia bit his lip. Lucifer below, you were perfect, absolutely perfect. He couldn’t find a single flaw in you if he tried.

“Sweet Satan…” Emily shook her head. “For Yule, you’ll probably be handing out cards that have pictures of you and Cardinal wearing matching sweaters, holding his rats like they’re your children.”

Rob and the other sisters laughed, and even you let out a giggle.

“You know, I’d actually like that.” You smirked. “What do you think, Cardinal?” You asked, playfulness twinkling in your eyes.

He bristled with nervousness under your gaze, finding it hard to meet your eyes but impossible to look away. “W-well I… S-si, I too would like that, Sorella.”

Both Copia and your friends were waiting for some sort of snide punchline from you, but it never came.

Your friends were confused at the fact that you’d actually want to take cheesy pictures like that, while the Cardinal got butterflies in his stomach just from the thought.

“Well, I better get back to my sleepover preparations.” You smiled, sensing the other girls’ impatience.

“Ah, okay..” Copia nodded awkwardly, trying to scoop Biscotti off your chest without groping your tits.

You didn’t let him get away too easily; subtly pushing your chest out, relishing in the feeling of his gloved hands rubbing against your tits and the panicked expression on his face. After finally getting the rat into his grasp, you gently grabbed his wrist, leaning down to kiss the sweet little creature.

“It was very nice meeting you, Biscotti.” You giggled. The Cardinal grinned, a mixture of disbelief and excitement bubbling inside him; no one had ever been so welcoming towards his rats.

“Here, she really seemed to like these.” You handed him the cracker box that she had chewed through.

Copia huffed out a laugh, taking the cracker box from you before giving Biscotti a pointed look. “You naughty thing, you..” He shook his head endearingly.

“Eh.. Grazie, Sorella. I don’t know what I would have done if you would not have found her. Not everyone is so… welcoming of rats.” The Cardinal gratefully looked into your eyes, breath catching in his throat when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m really glad I could help. I’ll have to meet your other ones sometime?” You offered.

“R-really? Y-you would.. You would want to?” The man perked up. “I-I’m sure they would love to meet you, Sorella…”

“It’s a date then.” You stated simply, making Copia blush terribly from the mere mention of the word ‘date’. He nodded eagerly before stuttering out an awkward goodbye, turning on his heel and making his way out of the kitchen while murmuring something to Biscotti.

You grinned, shaking your head and turning back to the other sisters.

“Alright, so we got all the snacks?” You enquired.

“Yup, all set to go!” Ava clapped her hands excitedly.

“Are you sure you guys aren’t gonna need any help eating all that tonight? Or.. help with anything else?” Rob asked, trying to put an arm around you.

“No boys allowed!” You chirped, slipperily wiggling out of his grasp as you and the other sisters grabbed your snacks and ran to your room.

•𖤐•

The sleepover was going great so far. You were wearing a cute pyjama set; some tiny black silk shorts with pink piping, and a cropped black silk button down shirt with short sleeves. It also had pink piping and it said ‘Bored’ on the back in pink embroidered cursive.

You and the girls were eating snacks, playing games, watching movies, and of course: gossiping. Seemingly all at the same time, too. Thankfully, though, you had kept the sisters away from the topic of Copia; instead talking about other interesting drama that was happening around the abbey.

“I think I saw Kenzie trying to flirt with Dexter. Kind of out of her league, isn’t he?” You commented, shoving another black liquorice jujube into your mouth while rolling the dice. You moved your piece, the iron, three spaces, landing on Park Place.

“No way! How embarrassing for her. He’s way out of her league.” Emily scoffed, the other sisters all in vehement agreement.

“Ava, gimme two hundred dollars?” You asked.

“Um, I think you have to mortgage one of your properties before I can give you any money…” She responded.

“Come on, what do you want me to do? Become a Monopoly stripper so you’ll give it to me?” You sighed, holding out your hand expectantly.

“Alright, fine.” The brunette rolled her eyes, placing the two crisp $100 Monopoly bills into your hand.

“Thanks!” You smirked.

“Hey!” Mable scoffed. “I knew Ava shouldn’t have been the banker, she’s a pushover for you.” She laughed.

“She’s persuasive!” Ava held her hands up in defence.

“By holding her hand out and threatening to become a stripper in a board game?” Lilith prodded playfully.

“No, no! With that devilish look in her eyes!” Ava giggled.

“Hey… where are those pink heart shaped marshmallows I got?” You suddenly asked, looking around.

“Hm.. I don’t see them…” Mable hummed, rifling though the stash of snacks.

“Oh, we must have forgot them in the kitchen when we spotted that rat!” Lilith remembered.

You groaned. “Alright, I’ll go get them.” You stood, putting your slippers on and heading out into the dark corridor.

•𖤐•

Finally nearing the kitchen, you saw a light shining from the doorway. You padded into the kitchen and saw none other than the Cardinal, sitting at the counter and having a snack. It was then that your eyes drifted to what he was eating.

“Well well well!” You exclaimed, causing the poor man to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Ah! S-S-Sorella!” He stared at you with wide eyes.

“What do we have here?” You stalked up to him, snatching the bag of your marshmallows out of his gloved hand. “A little rat.” You smirked.

“W-what? Eh, n-no! I-” He tried to protest, but you said nothing, only hooking your finger in the collar of his cassock, beginning to drag him out of the kitchen and down the hall.

“W-wait, Sorella, what are you-!”

“Well, I’m gonna have to explain to my friends why the bag is open and half the marshmallows are gone!” You grinned wickedly. That was a lie; the bag was still full. The poor thing had only eaten a few.

“P-please, Sorella, I’m sorry, I-I-I-” The man pleaded, weakly struggling against you as you dragged him up the stairs.

You rounded on him once you got to the top, pushing him against the wall, so close that the tip of your nose was touching his.

“Quit stuttering, Rat.” You whispered, lust dangerously swirling in your eyes.

The Cardinal let out a whimper, but before he could do anything, you were tugging him along by his collar once more.

Finally, you reached the door to your room, opening it and pulling Copia inside. You now held him by the back of his collar, as if you were holding him up by the scruff of his neck.

“Look what I found stealing our snacks! A little rat!” You proudly declared.

The sisters all looked at you with wide eyes as you dragged the man inside, giving him a little shove and causing him to stumble forward. You shut your door, once again sitting amongst all the pillows on the floor, taking Copia’s gloved hand and pulling him down to sit next to you. Admittedly, he was scared. He did feel like a rat. A helpless little rat about to be batted around by a bunch of cats.

“If you wanted the marshmallows so bad, you could have just asked for an invite.” You smirked.

“I-I d-didn’t know they were y-y-yours, Sorella! I-I’m sorry, p-please forgive me…” The Cardinal profusely apologized, the lines on his face deepening with guilt, and a bit of fear. Oh, but you knew; you knew that the sweet man didn’t know any better. You just missed teasing your dear Cardinal so much and you wanted an excuse to bring him to the sleepover.

“I thought we said no boys allowed??” Emily reminded you, not hiding the annoyed look on her face.

“Hmm, we did. But he’s not a boy, he’s a rat.” You grinned, stroking a finger under Copia’s chin and making him shiver, his pouty lips parting as a quiet, pitiful gasp escaped him.

“Is that right, hm? Are you a man or a mouse, Cardinal?” You playfully prodded at him.

“Ehm…” Copia paused, staring at you with wide, unsure eyes.

“Maybe a bit of both?” You prompted, to which he nodded shyly.

“That’s what I thought.” You cooed, biting into a marshmallow, popping the other half of the heart into his mouth.

“Mmm, isn’t it delicious?” You hummed, feeling reckless and flirtatious and dangerously sinful.

Entranced by you, Copia nodded in agreement, his cheeks already on fire and burning cherry red.

“Well, what’s next on the roster?” You asked. You’d already played Aggravation and Monopoly, gossiped, and watched Rosemary’s Baby, which had you and the other sisters sighing dreamily about what a blessing it would be to carry the Dark One’s child.

“Truth or dare!” Emily smiled wickedly.

“Perfect!” You hopped up, moving to sit on the plush area rug next to your bed, the black one with the pink pentagram on it. Everyone followed, sitting on your rug in a circle, Copia following nervously and sitting in the circle across from you.

“Have you ever played this?” You asked Copia.

“Ehm.. No.” He responded shyly, wringing his gloved hands in his lap, his plump lower lip bitten and flushed a delicious shade.

Oh Satan, what had the Cardinal gotten himself into?

•𖤐•

You had a few black candles burning around the room, and of course your Ghoul Friend candle from Bath & Body Works. The sweet scent filled the air, flames glowing and creating a pretty ambiance around the room.

The game started off pretty tame, with just dumb girly things. Ava dared you to do a flip on the bed, which you executed immaculately, and you dared Emily to snip off a little piece of her hair. Mable dared you to hold your nose and sing part of a song, which had you chanting a particularly nasally rendition of, “Belial…. Behemoth…. Beelzebub! …Asmodeus…. Satanas…. Lucifer!”

You couldn’t get past that part before you all burst out laughing. Even Copia, as nervous as he was, found it to be quite amusing.

The Cardinal had wracked his brain to try and think of something, and he finally dared you to say the first word that came to mind.

“Fuck!” You’d shouted, immediately clapping a hand over your mouth as another chorus of wild giggles filled the room.

“I dare you to leave.” Emily told Copia.

“I dare you to stay!” You countered when he began getting up.

And after a while of picking dare, you decided to pick truth.

“Do you have a crush on Rob?” Emily asked, causing the Cardinal to perk up.

“Um. Does it seem like I have a crush on Rob?” You raised your eyebrow incredulously.

“Answer the question.”

You could feel everyone’s intense eyes on you, especially Copia’s. He awaited your answer on bated breath, admittedly nervous to hear the truth. He knew you didn’t exactly act like you liked Rob, but some people behave that way when they do like someone. Copia thought that, perhaps by being nice to him and snubbing Rob, maybe you were just trying to make Rob jealous and tease him. Copia’s biggest fear was that your kindness towards him might be part of some kind of cruel trick.

“Of course I don’t.” You scoffed, and the Cardinal released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Truth or dare?” Mable asked you, and once again you picked truth.

“What exactly don’t you like about him?” She asked curiously.

You shrugged. “Honestly? He’s just not my type.”

Copia was relieved, but also intrigued. It seemed as though everybody thought Rob was particularly handsome, with that perfectly styled dirty blonde hair, muscular build, tall height, and winning smile. It left the Cardinal wondering… if you didn’t like Rob, who did you fancy?

“Alright let’s kick it up a notch, dare me to do something disgusting or whatever.” You laughed, wanting some excitement.

“Alright, I have a gross one for you.” Emily smirked deviously, catching your interest. “I dare you to kiss the rat man. On the lips.”

The other sisters immediately gasped in horror, while Copia’s eyes grew as wide as cherry pies. His gaze whipped to you, trying to gauge your reaction, before staring down at his lap, trembling and ridden with anxiety.

“Emily, don’t make her do that!” Lilith whisper-yelled.

“Well she asked for a gross one, so there ya go.” Emily defended herself with a shrug.

“Yeah, but-” Ava began to whine, all of the girls giving you their sympathies, not even considering the way it would make Copia feel. They were acting like kissing him would be the worst punishment on earth. The poor man felt terrible about himself; even more so than usual.

The sisters were so busy lamenting on your behalf, and the Cardinal was so busy feeling guilty, that none of them even noticed you getting up and crossing the circle until you were already standing over Copia where he was sitting criss-cross applesauce.

Seeing your bare legs in his peripheral vision, he slowly looked up up up your legs, past your sinfully tiny shorts and cropped pyjama shirt, until he was staring at you with wide, sorrowful eyes; once again nervously twisting his gloves in his lap.

The room fell silent, and without a word you slowly sank down to straddle his lap. Your hands found his shoulders, and for a few moments you did nothing, only observing as he grew more and more anxious under your stare. Your fingertips ghosted down his arms, taking his gloved hands and placing them on your hips. Copia’s breath hitched at that, his whole body going stiff as he gazed fearfully into your eyes, but he didn’t dare move a muscle.

Your eyes swept over his pretty face. How cute, his deep blush made his little freckles more prominent.

Your lack of movement and the way you were studying him had Copia on edge, his heart pounding louder and harder with each passing second. He truly did feel guilty that you were being forced into doing this, and he was just about to tell you not to feel obligated when suddenly you were bringing a gentle hand up to stroke your fingers along the cleft of his chin, his jaw, his cheek. Your fingertips danced along his sideburn, and after a moment you were knocking the biretta off his head.

It hit you then that you’d never seen him without his biretta before; and sweet Satan his hair was gorgeous. It was thick and fluffy, and he wore it slicked back. Once a dark chestnut brown, it was now greying; with lighter little silvery wisps coming in near his temples. You grinned to yourself, realizing that his hair was the same colour as an agouti rat’s fur.

You could feel the timid Cardinal’s hands trembling where they rested on your hips, and he flinched when you delicately cupped his flushed face in your hands.

He was beginning to panic as you slowly leaned in, your eyes half lidded, tip of your nose brushing against his. What should he do? He had never kissed a girl before, he didn’t know how, didn’t have time to practice and now he was going to make a fool of himself to you. Oh, Satan, how mortifying. He was a 50 year old man and he had no idea how to kiss. He could speak Latin and perform rituals, but all of that seemed dismally, frightfully irrelevant now. How could he know how to do those things when he didn’t even know how to kiss? He really was pathetic, wasn’t he?

His mind was racing a mile a minute, but then you finally closed the gap, pressing your delicious lips to his, and Copia swore he felt an electric shock run through his entire body and short circuit his brain.

The Cardinal felt lightheaded, already drunk off you, off your intoxicating perfumed scent, afraid he might faint right then and there. You tenderly moved your lips against his, and he let out something between a soft gasp and a whimper when your tongue darted out to swipe across his delicious lips. When his mouth opened, you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, a little moan slipping out of you.

Copia’s mismatched eyes had rolled back and fluttered closed, feeling oh so helpless against your sinfully sweet ministrations. He was still worried about not knowing what to do, but the way you were sucking on his tongue had him letting out a pathetic little whimper of surprise. You softly hummed in satisfaction. He tasted like cherry coke, while the Cardinal noted that you tasted like bubblegum.

Now, this. This was a first kiss. There would be no doubt in Copia’s mind after this; no wondering, no technicalities. He could hardly believe he was finally having his first kiss. And with you, the girl of his dreams. Copia felt like the luckiest man on earth. And just when he thought it was over, you kept going; tangling your fingers into his soft hair, tugging slightly before hungrily sucking his plump bottom lip into your mouth.

You swallowed each and every one of his little moans, humming in delight as you devoured him. Your sweet Cardinal gasped as you nipped at his lip, subsequently deepening the kiss once more so your tongue could swirl around his again.

Your friends all looked on in a mixture of horror and morbid curiosity, wincing as they watched you make out with Copia in earnest. Even Emily felt bad; she had only meant for you to simply peck him on the lips, but you were going above and beyond.

You elicited yet another wonderful moan from Copia as you sucked his tongue right into your mouth, getting frisky and biting at him a bit harder, the feeling of his moustache against your skin driving you crazy with need. What was once a deep and sensual kiss was slowly growing more passionate.

Alarm bells rang in the poor Cardinal’s head once more as he noticed the maddening throbbing between his legs, realizing in a panic that his cock was fully hard and pressed right against you. Surely you could feel it, since you were just wearing those tiny little silk shorts. How embarrassing. It was leaking precum like a faucet, making a sticky mess in his pants, so hard and sensitive that it was almost becoming painful. And as you continued kissing him it felt like he would cum.

You did, in fact, feel the thick, hard length of his cock pushing against you, but you resisted the urge to grind on him because you relished in the fact that the little perv had gotten so hard just from kissing you.

Copia’s big cock just couldn’t stop twitching in his pants, all for you you you. You and those beautiful lips, that sinfully delicious tongue. You were candy, sugary sweet, and the Cardinal was hopelessly addicted.

Oh, Lucifer below! He almost came just then but thankfully he was able to hold himself back. It was really getting him going, the way you kissed him so deeply, so thoroughly. You always acted as if you weren’t disgusted or annoyed or repelled by him, but poor Copia definitely thought that your true feelings would come out when faced with this challenge. He thought you were going to wince, bracing yourself while giving him the quickest kiss on the lips, before wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. The Cardinal had never been so thrilled about being wrong.

Finally, you pulled away for air; a thick, glistening string of saliva still connecting the both of you. Copia’s eyes fluttered open, the poor man was dazed and confused as you both stared at each other, panting. You leaned in again, pressing a soft little kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another, followed by you nipping at his lower lip once more, causing the Cardinal to let out a pathetically shaky little moan.

You glanced downward then, toward the obscene bulge that was pressing right into your pussy.

“Pervert.” You murmured with a smirk.

Copia’s eyes widened, crimson cheeks burning bright with humiliation as everything came crashing down. He was absolutely horrified that you could actually feel it. But, Satanas, you were right. He was a pervert, he was he was he was. A 50 year old man getting all worked up and horny over being kissed by a daisy-fresh, young little thing like you. And all because your friend had dared you to do this, no less. Copia felt like a dirty old man, ashamed of himself.

As you stood, the man became painfully aware of how tight his grip was on your hips once he was forced to let go. You hoped you’d have marks there the next day. You left him, then, with tousled hair, bruised lips, and glossy eyes. Not to mention, an undoubtedly painful erection which Copia scrambled to hide, adjusting his cassock and placing his hands over his lap as an attempt to conceal the large bulge.

Both your and his lips were deliciously swollen; shiny and spit-slicked, and the Cardinal could hardly believe his eyes as you licked your mixed saliva off your lips instead of wiping it off with your hand. The other sisters winced, glancing among themselves in disgust.

“Truth or dare, Rat?” You asked with a smirk.

“T-t-t-truth, please.” He stuttered.

“Was that your first kiss?” You got straight to the point. And, oh, you knew it was cruel to expose the poor man like this in front of all your mean friends. But you just couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t know for sure, but judging by his ultra timorous demeanour, you could only assume that your dear Cardinal had never been intimate with anyone before.

The poor man looked at you with puppy dog eyes, still dazed and in shock from the kiss, but you just weren’t letting him catch a break from your relentless teasing.

“S-si, it… It was.” Copia answered honestly, ashamed and humiliated and admittedly so needy for you. He stared down at his lap, wringing his hands. He wished he had the guts to dare you to kiss him again.

“Really?? Your first ever kiss?” You gasped. “How old are you again?” You asked coyly.

“E-ehm-” Copia looked taken aback by your question. “F-f-f-fifty…” He murmured quietly, shame written all over his precious, flushed face.

You grinned triumphantly, relishing in his delicious anguish. “Did you like it?” You dared to ask.

Your friends all stared at you, utterly puzzled, growing more confused by the second. They genuinely couldn’t tell if you were flirting with the man, or if this was your own special way of torturing him.

Copia swallowed nervously, biting his lip trepidatiously before his painted eyes timidly met your gaze once more.

“Y-yes.” He nodded.

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

Taglist: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @zombiequeenblog @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @mister-girl @faeeeeh @rubyserpentine @ramblingoak @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @my-mummy-dust @angelconservation @yourlocalghouleh @gh0sty6 @nikolaiology @thenick100 @mothsdraw @ivyanddaisies @gothdaddyissues @moonlight-fern @copiaslittleratty @nocturnal-birb @creepyalbatross @lightbluuestars @delta-is-here @1kirby1 @dawnghoul @kyberj @esmiephan @not-ya-girl @notmanagingmymischief @averagecrastinator @anubidian @peripheralviision @morbid-personality @rewin-d @madisyn-grace @oops-hyper-fixated-on-slashers @androidwitchbitch @lilithsgirlfriend @xhorror-nerdx @pxl8ed @gothicwonderlust @i-wanna-perish @r3dc4ndy @justageek @moansforpapa

[cokoweee]

Okay last one I think…lovely stuff as always, I’m just juggling another brainrot right now, but I was itching to make some remarks. First off I’m glad midwesternvibes mentioned the text thing in the most recent update, because I was tickled to see that too! Probably the first time he had color since before their “spat” in the kitchen. As much as I know it’s still a roadblock in his recovery, I’m glad to see the voices coming back for Donnie. I kinda get this feeling they are hanging out with him until they know he’s going to be “okay”. And I have this little idea to myself, that when Donnie is able to start healing and processing his trauma, he stops hiding from them and is no longer afraid to see them. Of course that would be when they would start to slip away. (And that would be so rough for Donnie) Grief is kinda like that too. Sometimes you can be okay for a long time and you’ll have bouts where you still miss that person(s) even when you know you have accepted and moved on.

So I’m curious what is the situation that Donnie is on a watch. Is it just Draxum’s concern? Is it in case Donnie gets catatonic again? Is it in case he gets violent again? Is it to save his liver (those supersoldier genes only thing keeping it from failing)?

Also Draxum fixing Donnie’s sweater like a dad (only for Donnie to have his femme fatale shoulder thing as soon as the door is closed)

I’m a little surprised that this is the first time Kendra has seen Draxum do his mystic vine magic…or… he just hasn’t had too…or…all the mystic stuff happening lately has made Kendra more aware to it…or… but whatever the reason…appropriate reaction, lol

So something I have noticed that has me enticed is Donnie has been wearing his hand prosthesis more often.

Before the trauma induced episode, the only time we ever saw Donnie wearing it was when he was out or in “mission mode”. It makes sense, he needs to be able to save his ninpo for more than just temporary fingers. So why now… I was gonna suggest he is on edge, but I also remembered, as I was writing this, that you mentioned him having a slight disconnect to his ninpo…so yeah fingies is not a luxury he can afford right now. In any case…. Hmm…Donnnie….you know…if you didn’t shut your second dad outside…he mighta told ya that Kendra went out…ya know…? Also not sure if it’s just clueing us into Kendra still being sick or that trope of “if you sneeze three times it means someone is talking behind your back.” ? (I quote this one when I sneeze a lot, I’ll go “okay who’s trash talking me?!”)

Anyway please take care! Also p.s. if you do start to play Minecraft I hope you have fun. (I tried to play it but my laptop is too old and it crashes, so I can’t give much advice on it) also p.p.s I found a WIP of a thing I started writing for this AU in July, and I kinda…forgot I had it. It’s gonna be so out of place if I ever finish it, so just heads up for whatever was the hot topic then… <_<

GAHH I ANSWERED THIS BUT THE APP CRASHED AUGHHH. Let’s see if I remember what I said

I think I showed it a few times that despite Donnie constantly wanting said voices to stop, whenever they actually do, he feels uneasy. It’s quiet and he feels alone. I don’t write every single voice he hears all the time but just ones that feel right to show. There’s a lot he hears. The good the bad and the horrible.

Dancin a bit in that prosthetic part it’s a bit of a ref to sumthin y’all like to tickle a good bit sometimes lol

DRAXUM! A man not meant to be a father but ended up being a guardian. He hasn’t used his mystics cause there’s no need! Also Draxums reasoning for putting pickle boy on watch isn’t just his!

Casey is one that enforced it so harshly. That episode at the farmhouse was technically the first time she’s EVER seen Doobie in that state. Literally witnessed him break down, almost wipe out a farm and try to tear apart his own body. Both want no risk of not being able to get to Dibble so keeping him out of the lab that he can lockdown is a must for them

OOF THIS IS LONG HOPEFULLY I MADE SENSE. Cause I forgot a bit of what I said before

[madangel19]

Trans Aether and Trans Sunshine trading tips and hyping each other up and also that's why they weren't there for the Re-Imperatour, because they both wanted to transition at their own pace :)

I wasn't quite sure what to do with this for a bit, but I finally thought of something, Anon! They would totally hype each other up while at home and they would always give their pack updates on their progress. Hopefully I wrote trans characters okay here :D

Content: Top surgery mentioned, top surgery scars for Aether, breast growth for Sunshine, mostly non-sexual nudity, some slight suggestive material mentioned, trans Aether, trans Sunshine, Sunshine being a ball of sunshine lol

Word Count: 691

“So, how’d the show go tonight?” Aether asked, smiling back at Dewdrop on his phone. He had made sure to video call him every night of this tour to check in on everyone and give them updates on life back at the ministry. 

“Amazing as always, big guy. It’s just not the same with you and Sunny here. Phantom and Aurora are amazing, but I miss you guys,” Dewdrop replied.

“Just a few more weeks and you’ll be back with me, firefly,” Aether crowed, smirking as he thought of the exciting news he wanted to share with him. So much had happened over the past few weeks that he hadn’t told Dew and the rest of the pack about. 

“Is there something you wanna tell me, Aeth?” Dewdrop asked.

Before Aether could open his mouth, his bedroom door burst open and a shining light filled his room. Aether turned around, seeing a brightly lit Sunshine standing in the doorway. She wore a tanktop that she had pulled down to reveal a small but noticeable amount of cleavage.

“I finally have tits!” Sunshine exclaimed. 

“What the fuck is happening over there?” Dewdrop called out, one of his eyes taking up the screen.

Aether was silent for a moment before his smile grew and he turned his phone around to show Dewdrop the beaming ghoulette. 

“Looks like the hormone treatment is finally showing some results. They look nice, Sunny,” Aether crowed.

“Are they gonna get bigger?” Swiss’s voice called out from behind Dewdrop.

“I sure hope so!” Sunshine giggled, her glow going down as she bounded over to sit next to Aether. Aether rolled his eyes in amusement before grunting in discomfort when Sunshine butted her head against his chest. It had been several weeks since his surgery, but he was still very sore. 

“Still hurts there, Sunny,” he murmured, petting the top of her head.

“Aw shit, sorry. I thought they would be fully healed by now,” Sunshine said. 

“Can I finally see the scars, Aeth?” Dewdrop asked, getting close to the screen once again. Aether grew quiet for a moment. He wanted to save that reveal for when the pack returned home, but Dewdrop had been asking over and over to see it for himself. It was getting harder telling him no.

“You gotta wait, Dewy. Just know that his scars look fucking amazing and I get to have him all to myself until you guys get back,” Sunshine giggled, wrapping her arms around Aether’s belly and giving him a gentle squeeze. Aether chuckled as Dewdrop growled, flipping Sunshine the bird and she returned the favor, sticking out her tongue at him and giving him two birds. 

“It’ll be a special surprise for you guys. You can wait for another few weeks, yeah?” Aether smiled. Dewdrop’s annoyance melted away as he sighed.

“It’s gonna be so long but it’ll be worth it,” he grumbled.

“It will be, firefly. I love you,” Aether cooed.

“Love you too, Aether,” Dewdrop replied. 

“And I love you both,” Sunshine giggled, pecking Aether’s cheek.

“Welp, I’ll leave you two alone then. I’m sure Aether is gonna give those tits some nice attention, Sunny. Tell me everything about it tomorrow,” Dewdrop said, winking at them before ending the call. 

“You wanna see them, Aeth? It’s not much but I’m getting somewhere,” Sunshine asked as Aether put his phone away.

“I’d love to, Sunny. You’ve been wanting this for so long and now you’ve made progress,” Aether said, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his nearly healed top surgery scars to her. Sunshine’s eyes widened at the sight of them, her smile growing.

“Fuck, your scars look amazing, Aeth. Dew’s gonna be all over them when he gets back,” Sunshine said while scooting back and taking her top off as well. Aether couldn’t help but stare at the ghoulette’s perky little tits and he felt his heart swell with pride and joy. 

“They’re beautiful, Sunny,” he cooed, eager to get his hands on them.

“You can touch mine if I can touch yours,” Sunshine said, inching closer to him with a playful smile.

“Deal, but be gentle,” Aether purred.

[queenofmistresses]

I want you there

a/n requested by anon! so excited to write all of these requests, I think I’ll keep them in the order of the request on the ask just to help me out lol! Hope you like them!!!!!!!!! Unfortunately I can’t write like I’m it’s based in Ireland- i was raised to talk like i’m middle class even tho we’re poor 😂

I was getting so excited for prom. I had picked my dress, decided how I was doing my hair, and makeup, everything. It was all planned out. It was amazing.

Until James told me that the Doctor Who convention is on the same day. Right when I’d finally plucked up the courage to ask him. What am I meant to do now? I was so excited, even if we were going as friends. It was going to be one of the best nights of my life.

Now, I’m stuck with the guys who asked me. A guy who is an absolute arsehole. Apparently I would rather go with him than alone. I don’t want to go alone. Not after I told Michelle how excited I was about who my date was going to be- avoiding the fact that it’s her cousin.

So here I am. Waiting on the steps in my house. In the dress I spent hours choosing and taking in to fit perfectly. My hair perfect, my make up perfect. And my date barely having spoken to me since he asked me out.

Oh. And he’s late.

Maybe it’s better if he’s late. Maybe it’s better if be doesn’t come at all. Maybe I should take everything off and tell my mum to pretend I’m sick if he does come.

I give up pretty quickly, I never wanted to go with him. I sigh and head up to my room. I stand in my room for a bit, just staring at my reflection in the mirror. I had never felt like I looked nice in anything I wore before. But I went all out. I saved every penny I could so I’d be happy with how I look.

But the more I keep staring at myself, the more I hate how I look. The longer I stand there, the more imperfections I see. I don’t know how long I stay there but before I know it I’m crying. All my friends were out having fun, probably not even noticing that I’m not there. And James is probably having fun at his convention.

I want to take everything off, get into my pyjamas, curl into bed and sleep. Then I can forget about this night completely. I start with my hair, slowly taking the pins out and letting my hair fall down.

Before I get very far I hear a knock on my door. Already frustrated I yell out, “Mum I told you I’m fine. I’m just going to bed and I’ll forget about it.”

“Um- y/n? It’s James.” I hear in response. I quickly scram to wipe my face.

“Hold on! I’m um- changing!” I yell out. When I’ve done the best job I can (which isn’t a very good one to be honest), I open the door and am faced with James. In a suit. And a Doctor Who scarf. With his hair done. Looking so, so handsome.

“James? What are you- why are you- huh?” I splutter out, unable to gather my thoughts.

“Wow. You look amazing. I- wow.” That takes me by surprise. After a moment he shakes his head and realises I’m still waiting for an answer. “Oh! Your mum called, she said your date didn’t show up.”

“Oh. It um really doesn’t matter. I didn’t like him anyway.”

“T-then why do you look like you’ve been crying.” I chuckle at that.

“It doesn’t matter. What about your Doctor Who convention? You were so excited for it.” He shrugs.

“I’ll go to the next one. Do you er, wanna go to prom together?” I almost start crying again at that. He looks so goddamn handsome, I want to mess his hair though.

“I look a mess, you’ll have to give me 10 minutes to fix all this.” I indicate towards my face. He walks towards me, just a few steps, looking almost nervous. “But yes, I’d love to.” He breathes out, smiling. “You can just sit on the bed if you like, and I’ll um try to fix this.”

He nods a little and sits on the bed while I get started on pinning my hair back. I think I can feel him staring at me, one quick glance tells me I’m right. “What?” I laugh, seeing him just watching me.

“You’re just- pretty. I mean you always are but you put a lot of effort into it and you just. You look perfect.” I can’t not blush at that, so I look away and finish off the look.

“Ready?” I ask him. He stands up and holds his hand out for me to take. I slide my hand into his and smile, standing up.

“Let’s go then.”

[takochan-writes]

Fucked-up World - Negan x Reader

Pairing: Negan x f!reader

W/C: 2k

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, kissing, grinding, allusion to sex (no sex actually happening), just some a bit of comedy I guess lol

A/N: I’m winging it now. 

I thought I was alone in this fucked-up world….

I just stood there, watching my best friend get bitten by a zombie, and then I ran. I ran into the woods. I didn’t care about anything except my dead best friend. Then, I stumbled on a rock and fell. I cried, attracting more zombies. They got closer and closer. I cried even harder, hoping death would come soon and free me from this madness. 

But no, he saved me. Negan saved me. He swung his barbed-wire bat at them, blood splattering all over me. I was so shocked that I even stopped crying. 

After he finished, he turned to me, offered his hand, and said, "Doll, what are you doin’ cryin’ in the middle of the woods?”

I’ll never forget that memory. I replay it over and over in my head. It’s always warmed me, even though the bad parts still haunt me. Now, I’ve worked for him for five months as his second right-hand ‘man’. I know he’s an asshole and has six wives just for himself, but I still admire him because of that memory. I wouldn’t dare say no to him when he asked me to do something. Tonight, I’m supposed to scavenge some stuff from Alexandria and other places. So, I prepare myself, knowing it’ll be a long night. As I’m getting ready, Simon knocks on my door. 

“It’s time.” he said with a hurried voice.

I follow the others to the truck, but suddenly, a hand grabs my jacket. 

“Come with me for a sec. On my truck.” I turn and see Negan smirking at me with his perfect teeth. I nod and follow him into his truck. 

This is my first time riding with him. He orders me to sit with him in the back seat while Dwight drives. I sit beside him, Lucille resting on his leg. I look straight ahead, trying hard not to be nervous. I don’t want my feelings for him to show. Does he know I admire him as my hero but also have a crush on him? I only told Simon about the admiration, not the crush. It’s taking a long time to reach Alexandria since it’s nighttime. We sit quietly until Negan breaks the silence. 

“Why are you so fucking quiet all of a sudden? Did Simon cut your tongue or somethin’, doll?” I turn to him and see his big smile. 

He knows I’m close with Simon since I don’t have many friends in the Sanctuary. 

“I-I don’t know what to talk about...” I drop my gaze to my feet. 

“Well then, how about we talk about how you really fucking admired me because of that accident in the woods?” His face gets closer to me. 

I snap. I look at him in shock. Did Simon tell Negan? But he promised not to tell anyone. 

“H-how did you— Did Simon tell you about that???" 

“Hell yes. I want to know how you settled in with my boys” His grin widens. 

He’s enjoying this. I can’t lie to him. He trusts Simon and can tell when someone is lying. 

“Y-yes, I really admire you. But please, don’t talk about it. Please, Negan” I grab my pants to stop my hands from shaking. 

He looks at me, confused for a second, then grins again. “I really like the way you say please, doll. How about we go back to the Sanctuary and chit-chat?” He grabs his walkie-talkie and tells Simon to scavenge without us. 

He orders Dwight to drive back to the Sanctuary. When we arrive, he orders me to follow him to his room. My hands still shaking, I follow him quietly. He opens the door to his room and sits on the black leather couch. 

“Sit,” he orders. 

I sit opposite him, but he gestures for me to sit beside him. I obey. 

“Talk to me,” he says, placing his hand behind me and grabbing my shaking hand. 

I look at him, confused. I’ve never seen this side of him before. Is he really this sweet? I break into tears and hug him tightly. Then I remember he’s still my boss. 

“I-I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to.” As I start to break the hug, he hugs me back. 

“Don’t be.” I cry even more onto his chest. He rubs my back to calm me down, and it works. 

“I fucking knew from the start you were a tough gal. When I found you crying in the woods, I knew you’d been through some shit. I was really worried about you and I was certain that day that I wanted to help you. Really. And I promise you that I’ll protect you whatever the cost, doll” He lifted my chin to see his worried face. 

I nod. “In my entire life, I’ve never allowed myself to cry like that because I knew I had to be tough when things got bad. Just like... then...” My eyes water again, but I try to hold myself together. 

“What really happened that day, doll?” He cups my face and circles his thumb on my cheek. 

“My best friend died and I saw it happen right in front of me. He was like a brother to me. We’d been best friends since kindergarten.” He wipes my tears and I continue. 

“He helped me survive in this fucked-up world. We scavenged together. He taught me how to fight and fire a gun. Then, when we were scavenging, I let my guard down, and a zombie almost bit me. He saved me but got bitten himself. I just stood there like an idiot. He shouted for me to run, so I did.” I start to shake again. 

Negan holds me tight. “Stop right there. You’re safe with me now. I promise.” He kisses my temple gently. 

I hug him back tightly. “Negan, thanks for everything. Thank you for saving me back then and—" 

“Shh... don’t mention it, doll.” He cups my face and smiles at me sincerely, not with his usual asshole smile. 

I nod, and we try to get up at the same time, tangling our feet. We fall back on the couch, with Negan on top of me. I blush immediately. His face is close to mine. He smirks. He can probably see my face turning red. 

His face gets closer, and I place my hand on his chest to push him back. “N-Negan, I—” 

“Shh... doll, don’t be shy.” He insists, trying to kiss me, but I hold him there. 

“No, Negan, it’s not like that... I—” 

“Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop. Don’t worry” I blush even harder and clasp my hands over my face. 

“I… I don’t know if you’re gonna judge me or not… it’s just--”

“Don’t tell me… you’re still a virgin, doll?” He asked worried but intrigued

I blushed immediately and tried to cover my face

“Fucking hell, doll, that’s hot. It makes me even harder. But I need your consent. It’s your call.” He smiles and kisses my cheek. 

I don’t know how to answer. I want to do this, but I’m scared. “Don’t be scared, alright? And don’t worry about my wives,” he says sincerely. 

“J-just do it.” 

“What was that?” 

“Just fuck me already.” I look at him, still blushing. 

“There you go,” he grins. “I’ll go easy on you. I’ll make you feel good, doll.”

He starts to rub my sides and kiss me again. Now, I don’t resist anymore. I kiss him and throw my arms around his neck. He licks my bottom lip, and I open my mouth for him. Our tongues tangle, exploring each other’s mouths. It gets sloppy, and I break the kiss to breathe. 

“On the bed,” he orders. 

I obey as always, and he chuckles, whispering in my ear, “You’re very good at being submissive, doll. I’ll enjoy every minute of it.” 

I lie on the bed, watching him undress eagerly. When he pulls down his briefs, his length springs free. My eyes widen. I’d imagined how big he’d be, but not this big. 

“Do you like what you see, darlin’?” he chuckles. 

He gets closer, hopping on the bed to close the gap between us. I moan. He kisses my neck and grabs my breasts. He flicks and pinches my nipples until they’re hard. It seems unfair that I’m still in my clothes, so I try to pull my shirt off, but Negan grabs my shirt. 

“Doll, let me do it for you,” he says, continuing to kiss my neck. 

He slides his hands under my shirt, making me moan in impatience. He’s taking his time. He grabs my breasts under my clothes and gently massages them. 

“N-Negan, please,” I plead. 

“Please what?” He looks at me with the biggest grin. He’s enjoying this too much. 

“Please... fuck me already.” 

“Whoa, slow down, baby girl. So eager.” He finally pulls my shirt and bra off, looking at my breasts with excitement. “Damn, fucking gorgeous.” 

He sucks my nipple and plays with the other. I gasp at the feeling. I’ve never done this before. He switches to the other nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue like a pro. His hand slowly caresses my stomach and moves to the front of my pants. He presses lightly and chuckles. 

“You’re soaked through these pants,” he says, chuckling.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Ugh! Who the fuck is it?!” Negan exclaimed.

“I-it’s Dwight, boss,” came Dwight’s muffled voice.

“Fucking ruining our little party, huh?” Negan winked at me. “Wait here, doll.” He got up from me and the couch, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist to hide his erection. He half-opened the door. “What the fuck is it?! It better be a fucking good one!”

“I-it’s Rick, boss. He stole our guns again.”

“WHAT?! YOU TELLIN’ ME HE GOT OUR FUCKING GUNS AGAIN?! WHERE THE FUCK IS SIMON?!”

“Simon is on it, boss. He said to inform you, so I—”

“Fucking hell, D! Okay, get the fuck out, I’m busy!” Negan slammed the door. I shifted on the couch.

“Everything's okay?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t heard anything.

“Yeah, just stupid Dwight. Let’s continue, shall we?” He smirked at me as he got back into position. I nodded and made room for him. I placed my hand on the towel and rubbed him through it, teasingly slow. He groaned, rubbing himself against my hand.

“Negan, I need to feel you,” I moaned. He quickly undid my pants and underwear.

“Oh baby, you are soaked! I fucking love it,” he whispered in my ear, slowly dragging his hand from my stomach to my clit. I gasped, feeling his rough hand on me.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you? Fuck yeah, you do,” he said, rubbing his thumb on my clit harder. I moaned, throwing my arms around his neck and lifting my hips for more access. “Say my name, baby,” he whispered.

“Negan... fuck... Negan.” He groaned, sliding his hand from my clit to my entrance. As he slid his middle finger inside me, the door slammed open wide. Negan and I jumped and looked at the door. Negan would be furious once he found out who did that.

“NEGAN! Oh… shit...” It was Simon.

“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?” Negan screamed and threw me the towel to cover myself. He got up, naked and with a raging boner, walking towards Simon at the door. Simon backed up a bit, unsure.

“Why the FUCK did you do that, Simon? You better have something SO IMPORTANT that you interrupted me at this time!” Negan said, almost screaming again. I could see he was about to snap if Simon said the wrong thing.

“It is important, boss. Rick’s men are IN the Sanctuary. But I took care of it. They’re in the cell now. And I’m sorry about… that,” Simon said, looking at me with a smug expression. Fucking Simon.

“Well, can you fuck off? I’ve been interrupted twice now! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING ROOM!” Negan slammed the door in Simon's face. He stood there for a minute and then looked at me over his shoulder. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’ll lock the door now.” I heard the click of the lock, and he walked back towards me. “Well, well, where were we?”

[louhilainen]

Why King of Scars sucked, part 1.

So after finishing the duology a few weeks ago, I finally feel I’ve healed enough to rant about it, lol. I don’t have the energy to talk about everything I hated about the duology, because I don’t want to waste too much of my energy and time on the bullshit called King of Scars. But since I’m such a bitter bitch, I’ll talk about some issues I had with it. Mind you, I might remember some things wrong, and I have to admit that I don’t want to reread the books in detail, so this can be taken with a grain of salt. 

So firstly let’s talk about Zoya, and more specifically her past and why it failed me (and I think lots of other readers as well) to feel any kind of sympathy for her. So in the original trilogy we learn that Zoya had an aunt and niece in Novokribirsk, a town that the Darkling destroyed in an attempt to show off his powers to foreign emissaries. That made her ally herself with Alina, despite her being originally hostile and mean to her out of jealousy. No other information is provided about her past, and we do not learn anything about her aunt or niece. IMO Zoya was a fine side character in the trilogy. She’s bitchy, full of herself, but she’s not insufferable, and I liked the growing friendship between her and Alina. I will always remember Alina squeezing Zoya’s hand when Alina and the gang feared being buried alive in the tunnels. 

In the duology… Well, we all know what she’s like there. She’s mean, but not in an entertaining way, but in an exhausting way. She loses her temper so often that whoever made her the general of the second army must have been out of their mind (Looking at you, Nikolai), yet everyone still gushes about how beautiful and competent she is (Despite there being no evidence whatsoever about her being a good soldier or a leader, expect that she’s kick ass strong Squealer I suppose.). Everyone fears her, but for some reason they love her. (Or so we are told by who else but Nikolai). 

In the duology Zoya’s tragic past is extended beyond the trilogy. We learn that she was a child bride, sold by her own mother to a wealthy and rich man, and her aunt saved her from being married and took her to Little Palace as her powers surfaced. Oh, she’s also half-Suli, but can pass as Ravkan. But I could not bring myself to care about Zoya’s sad past. I’ve tried to think about why that is, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s because Zoya’s past has no effect whatsoever on the story.

How her past/trauma is handled is a stark contrast to how Kaz's trauma is shown in SoC (Mind you, I have my own issues with Kaz and SoC, but let’s not go there). In the SoC we learn there’s something behind Kaz’s ruthlessness and drive in making money. We also learn he cannot touch other people with his bare hands and that there’s something going on with him and Pekka Rollins and it’s personal. All the hints make the reader curious about Kaz’s past and what exactly happened. Later on, it’s revealed that Rollins swindled him and his older brother out of all their money. Weakened, Kaz’s brother died to an epidemic and Kaz almost too. The whole experience molded him into what he was.  

(Excuse me, but this part of my rant may be foggy, because I cannot pinpoint exactly why I hated the way Zoya’s sad past was written, but I’ll try my best.) But Zoya’s tragic background isn’t shown like Kaz’s. It’s just told. Yeah, we already know Zoya had relatives in Novokribirsk, so there’s no mystery there like in Kaz’s case. But I argue that if the author could still have written in a more interesting way. As it is now, it just doesn’t work. Zoya’s sad past is just some kind of decoration, of which purpose is to make us feel sorry for her. I felt Zoya’s past didn’t explain or add anything meaningful about her character. If anything, it left me angry, because clearly I was supposed to side with her, but I couldn’t.

Kaz’s trauma is closely linked to who he is. If what had not happened to him, he would be an entirely different person. But all Zoya’s background offers her the reason to join Alina and to hate the Darkling. You could argue that it’s part of the reason why Zoya is so mean, because she doesn’t want to get hurt by caring about people (But she was mean before losing her family so…). But if that’s the case, then it was poorly written. As it is now, It doesn’t explain her behavior. If you took her sad past away from her, it would change nothing. (The only scene I remember making a difference was when Zoya got mad at the pilgrims, and made a storm that made her, Nikolai and Yuri to be trapped with the saints). So why even add it there? Who knows. My best guess is to earn pity points from the reader.

So I hope this makes sense. I really could have elaborated this more, but I just don’t want to, lol. But next time I’m going to talk about the holy trinity of the Darkling’s victims: Zoya, Alina and Genya. Amen.

[sordidmusings]

Update! (Again lol): plans, loss, and music

Howdy doody! I’ll get to the fic stuff lickety split cuz I imagine that’s the most pertinent for most. Next TLC soon to be posted and the part after that under way again! Just have to finish up checking up the next section as it was done before but was one of the fics claimed by one of my cringy “want to delete my existence” moods 💀🤡 that’s where my ao3 and masterlist went too so whoops lol did save my stuff from getting posted under someone else’s name once so sometimes that cringe instinct works out for the better 👌🏻 still trying to kick the habit tho 💀 but yeah just gotta clean it over and get it back up again! Thank you for your patience 🤍

Comfort fic with Croc is well underway! Sorry that that’s taking longer than expected and an even bigger sorry to the request for Croc and reader team bonding smut cuz that boys been taking ten million years. Both of you, I appreciate your patience too and hope to make it worth the wait!!

X Marine reader headcanons almost done in their first part! Doing the first installment as general headcanons/vibe and the backstory for them, the second being a detailed how they met, and the third being a big event for the relationship like a confession or one saving the other or coming to terms with the relationship being doomed etc etc. it kinda spiraled out of control on ideas as I have a tendency to do sorry 😅

Besides a Law fic, those are the priorities right now tho there’s also kinktober to discuss. I’ve always always wanted to do kinktober but I’m still not good enough. I’ve been trying to do some prep for it and think I may be able to get many headcanons out for the month on it but again I’m not at a quality or in life circumstances where I can make it happen with actual fic this year.

And with life circumstances, yeah there’s business with jobs and obligations and taking care of people and trying to take care of myself, but my great struggle for the past stretch of weeks and onwards is the death of my mentor, friend, and father figure who was my piano teacher. He was older but it was very sudden and we’ve all been scrambling to contend with the loss of him and try to keep all the programs he was running afloat and keep his memory and influence alive. His reach in the music community and the genuine depth with which he connected to others is now a huge wound for many of us. He was a person of exceptional quality and heart. There’s a memorial concert for him mid October that I’m one of the performers in and I’m glad it’s forcing me to practice because piano has been really hurting. Everything has been. I was already struggling to keep on top of things and in the face of this I really am floundering pretty bad, despite trying to take care of it myself cuz I know I was already asking much of others having to listen to me sometimes and most people go mute in the face of death and I don’t want that to be my experience with others right now.

So to share something more positive in this experience, here is a snippet of the piece I’m polishing back up for the memorial concert.

You’ll hear me mention briefly in the middle a “church bells section”. I was talking with @gingernut1314 about this piece while showing her some other stuff and so I gave context about why I chose it for his memorial. For ease imma just pop in a copy of that lol

{This is from the piece that I’m polishing back up for Ian’s memorial concert! It’s the second movement of Debussy’s Images for Piano. I finished learning all three with Ian. The first is likely my favorite, the third is a MONSTER (but that atm just kinda makes me want to get that back up again too to Conquer it lol), but the second one has the right mood for a memorial and is the one I spent the most time working on with him for expression (took forever to get it right and some of it was still only like just almost there when my recital came around 🤡) and it was the one I think he was happiest with how I played in the end. The final bit of the movement is just breathtaking and peaceful tho it does end sad. Ian talked about his time studying in Europe and visiting France and church bells echo on the mountainside there and that that’s the type of imagery to evoke there. He was a devout man himself and I thought that that being the end to something I play for his memory would make him happy.}

Thank again sweet pea for your time listening to me play and talk about classical piano and such in general!!! I appreciate you 🧡🧡🧡 and thank you to any of you who give this vid a listen and have this post a read. I hope to bring actual substance and treats to you all soon!!! I working on it I swear 💀💀💀

On a final note that sums basically all this shit up, that mentioned Law fic is something I’ve been mucking through to process some by engaging with a death that isn’t related to me. So! It is a fic where reader helps Law finally open up all the festering feelings and thoughts he wouldn’t let himself express around Cora’s death. I’ll give a more proper shout out there, but thank you to the people who have shown me kindness and understanding and friendship in the past couple months. You all know who you are (hopefully haha) - I try to impress these things directly to you as well but it felt right to say it here as well. Interacting with you all has impacted me positivity and you all make the world a more welcoming and loving place 🤍🤍🤍

I’d also like to extend a thank you to anyone interacting with any of my posts! I often feel invisible and unworthy so acknowledgements even small and passing are a nice !!!! to my brain and I appreciate it❣️

Talk to yall soon!

Oh and as a stupid ps cuz I forget things and have nowhere else to put this random thought - expect some One Piece crochet content sometime dhdjfhkdnd I’m finally almost fuckin done with a damn Bepo design that’s been fighting me forever 😤😤😤 same with a Cora swan lol might sneak some regular crochet and more piano in there too for shits and giggles but we’ll see - anyone else get The Guilt when you post things that don’t feel like the thing you promised or should ehcjfjldmccl cuz this bitch do and it keeps me from doing like anything cuz I’ve got a clinical case of the Brain Sillies 🤷🏼‍♀️ anyway - smooches!!!!

Oh and if you’re afraid to comment or like cuz the death topic - I won’t think anyone is being an ass for not mentioning it lol I brought it up for context and because he is so important to me not because I expect people on a post to do something about it. So as with all my content, no worries!! This is a Chill Zone that just so happens to have sad hours semi regularly but we vibe lol

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

Poems of Love pt.3 (GazxF!reader)

Here is the final part for Gaz in the Love Letter series! Apologies for taking 80 years lol! It feels lack luster but I’ll let you guys be the judge of that! Please enjoy!

Warnings: Language, some sexual content, Ghost being Ghost

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the last one comparing him to Poseidon and Apollo, he had enlisted the help of Ghost. Took less than a week to convince him, the large man finding the situation hilarious.

Ghost was quite literally a shadow and his help would be useful. Kyle was relieved when he said yes to helping find the mystery letter writer, even showed him a letter to see if he could figure out the handwriting, figuring he'd possibly know since he sees reports just like Price does.

“Looks like it might be Hanson, the ‘I’s and ‘F’s look the same. You said they come with different perfume smells too?” Kyle nods, “Yes sir. The last one I got smelled like roses. Know anyone with rose scented perfume?”

Ghost thinks for a minute, “Got a few in mind, but if I’m honest not a single one’s got the brains for the kinda stuff in these letters. Kinda jealous if I say so myself Garrick.” “I’m sure there’s someone out there writing poems for you LT.” Ghost grunts and shakes his head.

“I'll see what I can do.” Kyle nods. ”Thanks LT, I appreciate the help. I know ‘s not a serious matter but I gotta know if…” Kyle scratches at the back of his head and sighs. “You gotta know if it’s her?” Kyle nods while Ghost hums in acknowledgment, “Don’t want ya to be disappointed Garrick.” 

“Think they’ll show tonight?” Kyle shrugs. “Honestly they come at random. No knocks or anything, just a letter slipped under my door when I’m not here or when I’m in the shower.” Ghost nods and they devise a better plan.

-Your POV-

You were sat at your desk going over the finishing touches on your next letter to Kyle. There was no shortage of words you could use to describe him, the man was certainly more handsome than anyone you could find in your hometown. An actual dreamboat.

A heavy sigh leaves you. You knew that keeping this ever growing crush on Kyle was stupid, but how could you not? He has stood up for you, saved your ass countless times and vis versa. Especially after one of the older sergeants ruined a book you had just gotten stating you ‘didn’t need to read that filth when you had plenty of men to pick from.’

You still remember the sound of the man’s wrist cracking and the view of watching him hit the ground when Kyle had decked him for being a disgusting pig. Maybe this would be the last letter you send.

As you sign off on the letter and seal it a knock sounds on your door. You spritz the letter with perfume, lilac and lavender this time, before answering. In your semi haste to open the door, you forget to place the letter away.

Ghost stands there, arms crossed over his chest. “Evening LT. What can I do for you?” He looks at you for a minute, scanning across your room, eyes landing on the brightly colored letter on your desk before going back to you. “Knew it was you.” He motions to the letter. You look at Ghost for a minute and then the letter you had stupidly left in plain sight.

”Would you believe I was sending it back home?” “Not a chance, sergeant.” You sigh and run your hands through your hair. “I’m not in trouble am I? I promise this is the last one. Just wanted to make his days a little better is all.” Ghost watches you rub your hands together nervously.

”Not in trouble. He asked me to help him find out who was leaving the letters. My advice, just give it to him in person. Especially if you plan on this being your last one.” You look at Ghost, stunned by his admission to Kyle having asked for his help, but you nod none the less.

”Or I could catch you in the act and drag you and the letter to Garrick’s room.” “Uh no! No that won’t be necessary LT. I’ll give it to him, promise!” Ghost stares at you for a minute before nodding, “I know. I’ll be watching from around the corner.” With that he stalks off back in the direction of Kyle’s room. Guess the jig is up, time to give Kyle his last letter.

You quickly shower and change before gently grabbing the letter off your desk and heading to Kyle’s room. Nervousness floats around in your stomach at all the possibilities. What if he rejects you? What if he becomes disappointed that it was you?

‘Oh god what if he thinks I’m some kind of weird stalker?!’ Someone clearing their throat snatches you from your thoughts and you spot Ghost lingering in the corner. It dawns on you that you’ve reached Kyle’s room and you can feel yourself beginning to sweat.

Turning to face Ghost again he makes a shooing motion essentially telling you to get a move on. Grumbling under your breath, you raise your hand to knock. Waiting for Kyle to answer is torturous as you shift back and forth on your feet.

It feels like hours before he finally opens the door and you're all but shoving the letter into his hands, face full of heat as you speak a jumbled, hurried confession. “Woah woah, slow down luv.” Finally looking into the dark eyes of the man you know you love, your blush deepens.

As he places his hands on your shoulders to calm you down, he looks for Ghost around the corner, spotting him and waving, mouthing a thank you. Ghost nods and takes his leave as Kyle begins leading you into his room and seating you on the bed.

-3rd person-

Kyle sits with you on the bed, letter in one hand as he tries to calm you down enough to get a clear hold on what you’re saying. It’s a confession he knows that much but it’s a hurried mess of words and you look like you’re on the verge of tears, or passing out judging by how red your face is.

”’S okay luv. Take a deep breath for me, yeah?” You nod and breathe with Kyle for a minute and rub your hands across your face to try and reduce some of redness and heat. “Good?” “Yeah. Yeah I’m good now. I’m sorry Kyle.”

”Sorry for what? You’re not in any trouble. I was…” Kyle scratches the back of his neck before grabbing your hand. You can feel how clammy his hands are, he’s nervous, “I was hoping it would be you. In part to say those letters have done me worlds of good and that you’re absolutely off your rocker. ‘M not worthy of being compared to gods and renaissance statues.”

You grasp his hand tighter, moving instinctually, getting into Kyle’s personal space. “But you are worthy! You remember that time I took a couple days off for my family?” “Course. Johnny wouldn’t shut up about not havin anyone to talk shit with.” “Well, we went across Rome and Italy and I gotta say, every statue had your face. My mom even gave me shit for staring too long at a naked statue…”

You reach a hand up to cup his cheek, gently running your thumb over the skin. You’re so close to Kyle you could kiss him, lips brushing his in a whisper. “If any man could make a god jealous, it would certainly be you Kyle.” By now you were practically in his lap, his hands gripping your hips for dear life.

Kyle closed the distance, kissing you with a passion you’ve only felt when writing the letters to him. Kyle’s hand grasped the back of your head, tangling in your hair as he brought you impossibly closer, tongues meeting in a tangled dance.

Parting for but a moment, breath ragged and heavy, “I love you Kyle Garrick. I love the way the sun hits your eyes and they look like the smoothest, molten chocolate.” You kiss him before pulling back again.

”I love the way you stand for what you believe in and what you want. Your voice like the deepest wind chimes, the tolling of a bell. Sweet and melodic.” Kyle was getting dizzy, not just from your kisses but your words.

Making out turns into grinding, the hurried removal of clothes, moans ringing out as You sang Kyle’s praises, flesh meeting with a force found only in romance novels and sonnets. Kyle didn’t know making love could be like this but he was intent on never letting it go.

Kyle’s groans grow louder as do your moans, both nearing a rapid climax, Kyle can’t help but rapid fire his confession. “I love you… fuck, fuck! I love you s-so much! Ohh, gods!” His hips never falter meeting your’s as he pours ‘I love yous’ over your skin, from kisses to bites. “Ah! Ah I…I love you too! Please! Please let me give you a love worthy of epics!”

With both hands you grasp Kyle’s face and bring him into a searing kiss, the sweat on his brow rolling over your fingers, breaths mingling as you reach your end, Kyle following shortly after with a loud moan of your name, buried to the hilt inside you.

”I mean it Kyle. I love you, more than anything. Probably even more than Narcissus loved himself.” He huffs, looking into your eyes. “Impossible. His name wasn’t Narcissus for a reason. Guy loved himself so much he died over it. On that note please don’t die for me.” You hug him close and sigh against his cheek, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You both share a final kiss before falling into a peaceful slumber, wrapped in each other’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @cumikering