#they both struggle with the concept of being left behind

[thatonegayship]

I had to

Wait, does the cheating thing on the bond always works? bcs that would be kinda freaky for R!Dipper like imagine you get pinned down by someone in the corner of a br or smthng and then said person kissed you and proceeded to explode into red mist and you literally have no idea what happened.

Also, would the constellation mark be a "cursed" Mark over the years, like you would give birth to a baby and the doctor says "😟 I am so sorry ma'am,,, I'm afraid your baby has the Cipher Companion mark. ( could also be something equally as science-y like Ursa Major, Constellation Calamation, etc idk)" And you just burst into tears.

Would that mean that dipper would get into a special program(demon wrangling program or smthng, demonologist? Maybe)? Or would the parents hide it away hoping that Bill would never take their child away?

(Sorry this au is just very interesting to me,,,, I hope u get more motivation, keep writing author 💪)

These are all options! The fun part of reincarnation AU being left ambiguous is that technically any of them could happen.

[mixingandmelting]

Hello! I was wondering if you'd quite something based on the bat boys (or just Jason) reaction to realizing they liked having a normal life?

Like they go to visit the readers' family for Xmas, but their family left without letting them know, so they had the whole house to themselves, so they got to play house. It was in a whole other state, so no needing to be vigilantes. Just them with their s/o getting ready for Christmas, being shown around and just living a normal life for a few weeks.

A/N: Hope you don't mind me not writing about Duke and Damian since they're both minors so legally speaking they can't really travel out-of-state alone. Plus to be real, I highly doubt Batman would want to leave Damian unsupervised considering what happens when he's alone 😔

Dick:

His whole life he was anything but normal, being raised in a circus and now, fighting crimes 24/7. Excitement, action, danger, and adventures are what defines him and how he had always dreamt of how his life would go on. But here he is, tasting “normal” for the first time in his life by spending the holiday with you in the house you were raised in. Snowball fights and building snowmen delays the process of clearing the snow. Not to forget the snow angels that are made once he playfully tackles you down into the snow after you manage to get more on him than yourself. Putting up the lights and decoration both inside and outside of the house was more fun than the times he helped out at the Wayne manor, while finding out shopping for anything during the holiday season is a battle of its own. Adding that to the daily routine that’s usually gone through on his days off every day,  it’s… quiet and peaceful. He doesn’t wake up to sirens or violence. He’s not worried about another mission, instead figuring out how he’ll get your present under the tree without getting caught. You greeting him at the door, placing a kiss on his cheeks that are slightly bitten from frost when it’s decided he’s moving the snow on his own makes him so fuzzy, he starts calling you honey over babe. The most mind boggling about this? He doesn't mind it. It’s hard to accept that he actually likes “normal”. He’s confused over liking a concept that’s completely foreign to him and with his personality, he won’t last long with living with “normal” forever. The happy couple/marriage vibe though? He’s on board and digs it, one-hundred percent. Especially in a house filled with childhood memories, it’s giving him ideas and changing what he perhaps would want in the future in ways he wouldn’t think of back then.

Jason:

Considering his childhood and how he went through the whole reincarnation cycle of dying and then reviving, it’s a desire he had as a kid but gave up right away. He didn’t even fathom that a day would come where he would experience what it would be like to be normal. Walking around and staying in the typical home most average people live in made him tense the first three days, even more so knowing this was where you lived since a child. Moving snow with you becomes his favorite pastime, where you’d distract from getting the job done and have him chase after you from the snowball that hits his back. Or bringing out steaming hot chocolate so his nose and hands would stop feeling as if they’re ready to fall off from the cold after cleaning up and helping you build a snow fort of all things. His hands are frequently on your waist from holding you up to string the lights and hang the decorations after you frown from his “aesthetic” way of placing them, pushing him to move aside so you could show how a real pro does it. It’s also his first time struggling to find time to get a present behind your back from being with you all the time. Eating meals together, taking walks together around the neighborhood and city, acting as bodyguard during grocery and Christmas shopping, spending time together as a couple in general in a house that’s warm, cozy, and peaceful as Jason Todd is a first. Not as Robin once dead and revived or Red Hood, the violent outlaw.  It’s a wish once buried in his heart on top of another where he’s spending time with you that comes true before the holiday. He’s emotional from being so happy, he doesn’t think of anything else other than wanting to live like this for the rest of his life.

Tim:

Contrary to the stereotypes depicted by the media, rich kids don’t spend time with their family; it's usually spent with their nanny as their parents leave them for long periods of time in a house too large for two people. Sure over the years he has healed with his friends and a new family. But it feels like a dream come true with you. He’s laughing and enjoying the soft fluffiness of white that gets all over him, freezing his nose and hands when he tries to clear the snow. He gets into it with you over how the lights and decorations should be placed inside and outside the house when you mentioned you want to outdo your neighbors, a set of blueprints and sketches drawn while debating that rainbow lights were better than the flickering, white ones. To much of his chagrin, he’s fumbling with all the things you toss at him when he helps you shop, him being in charge of the shopping cart as he stays in-line as you grab and bring back what’s needed in the store. Not that he’s complaining, his face suddenly tinted in red when you come back and slip your hand between his hand and the handle during the wait for the next opened cashier. Surprisingly enough, he doesn’t struggle with getting you a Christmas present and placing it under the tree. He had been keeping tabs since the day after Valentine’s Day on the things you’ve been looking at while relying on your habits he memorized to time things perfectly. Similar to Jason, he, too, wanted to live normally like any other person. Him getting to do that by prepping for the holiday with you heals the child in him, making him content and wishing the time the two of you currently have lasts forever.

[moirasdolly]

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Is This Guy Bothering You? ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟSevika x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Persistent is one way to describe the sleazy guy who won’t leave you alone. Fortunately for you, Sevika comes to your aid and you get to know each other a bit…

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), harassment, Sevika helps you out though, oral (r! receiving), overstimulation.

Listening ♪ ིྀ: Guess - Charli xcx

Notes: My first Sevika fic !! I hope you guys enjoy it :3 It’s inspired by How You Met Sevika by sleepdeprived101 on ao3. I loved the concept and had to write my own version of it ! Also thank you @chosprincess for the title name 😭 I was gonna think of something serious, but this was too funny to me.

About 5 shots in at the club and you were feeling a slight buzz that was enough to make you feel at least a little bit better. You had just about the shittiest day at work and you needed a little something to free your mind from all of your troubles. However, the alcohol you had consumed was not enough to be able to tolerate the grimy man beside you. He had been trying to get at you all night through desperate attempts to compliment you although everything that came out of his mouth were disgusting comments about your body. You were beginning to wish you hadn’t worn that tight, little, black dress that was hidden in the back of your closet.

“Fuck… that body of yours is amazing.” A predatory grin was present on his face as he said the hundredth variation of this phrase that night.

Once again, you let him talk at you as you threw back another shot. His words went in one ear and out the other, but it was getting harder to ignore his dirty implications.

This went on about 5 more minutes before you furrowed your brows together and snapped your head towards him. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Your words spat out like venom. Initially he was shocked, but his features quickly contorted into one of disgust.

“Fine. You aren’t even all that anyway.” He got up and grumbled something about you being a “stuck up bitch,” and disappeared into the crowd.

“God, finally,” you thought to yourself as he left. You decided that maybe shots weren’t the best idea after all. You settled for something with far less alcohol and thanked the bartender before taking a sip. A certain warmth was beginning to fill up your body as you nursed your drink throughout the night, and once you finished you were feeling much better than you were when you first arrived. You made your way to the center of the club and maybe it was the alcohol, or the music, or even a mixture of both, but you felt confidence surge through your body and you let your hips sway to the beat.

From where you stood you had a perfect view of Sevika, the object of all your desires. Of course she didn’t know you, hell, she probably had never seen you in her life, but that didn’t stop you from having your fantasies about her. There she was at her usual table, playing cards with fools who knew they didn’t stand a chance against her. You had been staring too hard apparently because her eyes shifted right to you and for just a moment, you held her gaze. Maybe you moved your body a bit more seductively while you had her attention, but that was something you’d never admit. She licked her lips before turning her attention back to her card game and it felt like your heart was beating out of your chest.

You were so caught up with her noticing you that at first you hadn’t noticed someone press up against you from behind. You whip your head around in confusion and once you realized who it was you began to panic. The man from earlier wouldn’t take a hint. He held his grip on your hips a bit tighter as you struggled to get away. You elbow one of his arms off of you and rip your body away from the confines of his other one and try to distance yourself from him. There’s not much space between you two though since the club was filled to the brim with sweaty bodies, it was a Saturday night after all.

He was beginning to close in on you and your eyes darted around for anything—anyone to help you out. He had such a malicious grin on his face that you had truly begun to fear for your life. You didn’t want to know what he’d do if he managed to get you in his grasp again.

Somehow Sevika’s gaze flickered to you once more and there was a flash of confusion in her eyes once they met your own fearful ones. She furrowed her brows before slamming her cards on the table, not caring if her hand was revealed or not. She stood up and whistled abruptly, the whole club quieting down almost instantly to look towards her. Her boots were heavy against the floor and it was the only sound that could be heard throughout the whole building. Your eyes widened as you realized she was making her way towards you… little old you.

She placed her mechanical arm on the man’s shoulder and tightened her grip on him. “What are you doing messing with my girl?” Her deep voice rumbled out.

The man in front of you that was so confident and persistent before was looking like he was ready for his soul to leave his body. He slowly turned around to face her, not wanting to aggravate her anymore than she already was. “I-It was just a misunderstanding!” He stumbled over his words like a fool in the presence of the taller woman. “I didn’t know she was your girl.” His voice growing quieter as he spoke. He was beginning to realize he probably wasn’t getting out of this in one piece.

She looks at you and your heart rate picks up tenfold. Her gray eyes meet your own and she silently nods at you as if to say play along. “Was he bothering you, baby?” She speaks up again, cutting the man off just as he was about to speak.

“Mhm…” You hum out in confirmation. You didn’t trust your voice right now, you were sure you’d be a stuttering mess.

The man shoots you a pleading look, but you barely even notice as you hold Sevika’s sharp gaze that only softened when she looked at you. “Well, you heard her. She said you were giving her problems.” Sevika had tightened her grip on his shoulder. By now he was wincing in pain, but didn’t dare say anything about it. “What should I do with you?” She lets go, and for a brief moment he tried to catch his breath, but before he could Sevika landed a harsh blow on his stomach.

A crack rang out through the club and he let out an ear piercing scream as he fell to the floor. You covered your mouth with your hands with a gasp and turned to Sevika. Her lips turned upwards in a cocky smile as if this was just another day for her, like he was just a speck of dust in her world. She looked over to him and gripped his hair, lifting his head off the ground. He groaned in pain as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

You were barely close enough to make out what she said, but what you heard made your cheeks heat up. “I don’t wanna see your face here ever again. Don’t ever think you’re good enough to touch my baby like that, or any woman for that matter.” She dropped his head with a thud for good measure before muttering, “Get the fuck out.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice because as soon as the words left her mouth, he was scrambling through the doors of the club.

“The fuck are you looking at?” She bellowed at the rest of the club-goers when she noticed everyone still watching the scene in front of them. Once everyone resumed minding their own business, Sevika had turned to you, giving you a concerned look. “You okay? He was pretty persistent.”

“Yeah… ‘M fine.” You look down, not wanting to keep eye contact with her. That didn’t fly with her though, oh no. She used her flesh hand to grip your chin and gently tilted your head up.

“Good. I wouldn’t want a pretty girl like you feeling all down.” God, she was so attractive you thought you might pass out. “Whaddya say we go somewhere a little more private?” Her deep voice sends butterflies straight in between your thighs.

“Yes!” You reply a little bit too eagerly and she chuckles. She places her organic hand on the small of your back and guided you to the back of the club and into a private room. You assumed she had taken plenty of girls back there before, but thoughts like that would only make you jealous so you wiped them away from your pretty little mind. The click of a lock brought you back to reality and only then did it really set in that you were alone with Sevika.

The room was a decent size with a nice big couch that filled up the space. Under the dim lights you could see her making her way to sit right in the middle of the couch before patting her spread legs as if she were saying, “Come.” Your brain was short-circuiting but somehow you managed to make it to her lap. The short dress you wore didn’t do you any favors as both of your legs draped over either side of her lap. It rode up instantly, exposing those little panties you wore just in case you got lucky tonight, and you did. Who knew it would be with the woman you fantasized about every time you saw her.

Her hands instantly found purchase on your hips and instantly gave you a firm squeeze, making sure to be a bit more gentle with her mechanical arm. “Shit…” she mumbles out when you whine softly at the sensation of her hands on you. “You’re a needy one aren’t you?” She chuckled at the pathetic look on your face. She had barely done anything and you were already incredibly worked up.

“Don’t tease me, Sevika. Please.” You were sure she could feel how wet you were, as you moved your hips against hers.

She faux contemplated for a moment before deciding teasing you would be useless for both parties. You were a needy mess and all she wanted to do was make you cum. In an instant your panties were shoved to the side and one of her thick fingers slid into you with no resistance.

“Oh God…” You whine out, your head falling against her shoulder as she pumped her finger in and out at a steady pace.

“Baby, I wanna see your face when I fuck you.” She slid another finger into you with ease and grasped your face with her mechanical hand. Your cheeks heated up at the lewd squelch of her fingers inside of you and you bit your lip to suppress a particularly loud moan.

Apparently nothing could escape the other woman’s watchful gaze because without warning she added a third finger into your velvety walls. The obscene noise that was just waiting to leave your lips slid out like honey and Sevika felt like she was in heaven. Your moans were like an angelic choir to her and she would do anything just to hear you even more.

A string of filthy whimpers left your mouth and Sevika couldn’t take her eyes off of your glossy, plump lips. Just a moment ago she wanted to keep hearing your sinful sighs of pleasure, but the sight of your lips made her hungry for a kiss.

In the heat of the moment she removed her hand away from your face and to the back of your head before pulling you in for a messy kiss. She slipped her tongue into your mouth and she swallowed up every little moan that tried to escape. You felt yourself clenching around your fingers and you parted from her with a gasp.

“I’m close, please.” You knew you sounded pathetic, but at this point you didn’t even care as long as you got off. It’s not your fault Sevika was so skilled, she’d probably done this a hundred times.

“I know baby, I know.” Her husky voice whispered into your neck.

Her voice did wonders for you and just moments later you were cumming all over her flesh hand. She slowed her pace ever so slightly so you could comfortably ride out your orgasm before finally removing her hand from between your thighs. You panted slightly as she placed a digit in her mouth, licking it clean.

You smacked her shoulder softly, “Don’t do that!” She smiled at your antics before doing it again to spite you. “Fuck, you taste good sweetheart. You mind if I get another taste?” She doesn’t wait for an answer before hoisting you off of her lap and instead on to the couch. As your back hits the sofa your legs fall open naturally for her to slot herself in between.

“These are in the way.” She grumbles before sliding your panties off and flinging them off haphazardly. She gave you no time to adjust to anything and instead gave your weeping pussy what it wanted. Her lips attach to your clit almost instantly and your thighs rest against the sides of her head as she flattens her tongue against you.

You were still sensitive from your first orgasm, so her mouth on you made you begin to feel overstimulated in the best way possible. Her tongue teased your entrance before dipping all the way in. The thick muscle reached the deepest parts of you and you were beginning to think the only words you knew were combinations of “Oh Sevika!” and “So fucking good!” because that’s all you could stutter out as she ate you out.

She hummed against you and the vibrations against your cunt only pushed you towards your second orgasm of the night. She was drunk on the taste of you, and as she lapped at your clit you felt that familiar coil of heat in your stomach.

Your back arched off the bed and your fingers tugged at her hair as you came for the second time. She didn’t stop though, she locked her arms around your thighs and savored everything you had to offer her until you were whining for her to stop. Reluctantly she pulled away and instead trailed soft kissed up your stomach as you caught your breath.

“Look at you, all fucked out, looking dumb and pretty.” She cooed as your eyes fluttered open to meet hers again. All you could do was hum in confirmation, not a single thought except for Sevika in your head. Eventually she had to get up and clean the both of you up from your intimacy. She used a wet washcloth to clean her mouth up and ran it gently in between your thighs.

“You okay to stand?” You nod as she lends you her arm to help you up. Your legs wobbled slightly just like a deer walking for the first time, “I guess I’ll just have to cling to you the whole night.” You grin mischievously.

“Who said you were staying with me tonight?” She had no ill intent though, she knew she wanted you by her side. “Well I doubt you’ll find someone else like me at the Last Drop.” You huff.

“Kidding, sweetheart.” Sevika gives you a pat on your hip. That’s when you remember you need to put yourself back together and make yourself presentable once more. “Where’d you throw my panties?” Your eyes darted around the room to try to find them, but you’re unsuccessful.

That shit-eating grin was back on her face in no time because she reached into her pocket and dangled them right in your face. You try to snatch them back from her, but she was quicker. “I think I’ll keep them.” She chuckles before stuffing them back in her pocket. Your cheeks were bright pink as you tried to argue with her. Your protests fell against deaf ears though because all she did was guide you back out into the club.

“C’mon, I got poker games to win.” She stared down at you and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You can be my good luck charm.” Any protests die on your lips the moment she looked down at you like that. Who were you to deny her the luck she totally needed? (Shejust wanted you on her lap the whole night.)

[vanishingstarrs]

loss of my life ( k. bakugo x reader, anxiety, depression, mourning, stages of grief, character death mentioned, some self deprecation OR your boyfriend laments the loss of his life and struggles through the reality of being the one left alive ) ( and what if i was feeling sad ) ( i’m actually so sorry omg xx ) ( play loml by taylor swift if u want this to hit extra hard </3 )

The sky was crying.

Katsuki Bakugo disliked nothing more than the rain, the whole concept of it made him feel extremely weak— useless. Not only did the heavy downpour make it harder for him to produce sweat and therefore harder to use his quirk, but being drenched made everything much slower and heavier, so cold and lifeless. He never understood what you liked about it so much.

Not until he was sitting on a bench, tears and rainwater blurring his vision, the two liquids blending together and making it hard to distinguish whether he was crying. He tilted his head back, letting the water pelt against his skin as he finally released his breath.

For a moment… it almost felt like the clouds were doing all the hard work for him, he didn’t even have to cry. A sudden crackle of thunder snapped against the sky, screaming so he didn’t have to, angry for him over life’s injustice.

He didn’t understand it. And then he did.

He could understand why you’d sit at the window for hours, staring out at the rain with a serene look in your eyes, your whole body at ease.

The text cursor blinked up at him mockingly as he remained frozen, looking at his phone, your contact pulled up. It was still favorited on his phone. He hit call after a few seconds, letting the other phone in his hands (one he paid for solely so he could keep doing this) go on and on, the special ringtone you’d picked out specifically so you’d know it was him calling played out. Over the speaker he heard it… your voice.

“Hey! It’s Y/N, I’m off saving the world right now so leave it at the beep and I’ll call back… or not ‘cause I hate phone calls… unless you’re my boyfriend… I’ll text ya! Okay bu— beeeeep.”

The recording cut off before you could fully say bye in that signature cute way that was simply so you, it was more of a buh-bye, with you dragging out the final vowel. If anyone else had said it that way he would’ve found it annoying, told them to speak normal. With you… well, he thought anything that you did endearing.

He wished he’d been strong enough to save you.

His finger twitched, and before he knew it his whole hand was shaking. He stared helplessly at it while his heart went haywire inside his chest.

Dying… he was definitely dying. He was dying and he would get to see you again—

“Kacchan?”

It was overwhelming. The tightening in his chest, the sense of nostalgia washing over him, the longing he felt for someone whose blood had run cold months ago.

A familiar voice broke him out of his reverie, Katsuki looked up to meet green eyes.

How he wished they were yours… he’d often get lost in the world behind your eyes, picturing where life would lead the both of you, together.

“What are you doing out here? You hate the rain.”

He was crying.

It was obvious to his childhood friend, even with the rain trying to disguise it. Izuku Midoriya knew him like the back of his hand, and he knew how much he was hurting with your loss.

“I know you don’t feel like celebrating right now, why don’t we go back inside?” Deku continued,“I’ll walk you to your room.”

He’d rather be in yours… a room now empty, it used to be filled with all your things— books, knickknacks, posters on the walls, photos you’d force him to take that he secretly loved being in because it meant you felt he was worth remembering for years to come… he used to love spending time in your dorm if not only for your scent, being enveloped in it made him feel warmer than he’d ever known before…

“She’s gone.” He finally spoke.

You really were gone. You weren’t coming back. You wouldn’t appear once more someday, jumping up from behind him to yell “sike” and laugh off just how good you’d gotten him. You’d never hold his arm again, or force your freezing cold hands under his shirt. Never text him from across the classroom how much you missed him despite having spent the whole morning in his room, getting ready and taking over his whole bed with your makeup. You wouldn’t whine about making the wrong shoe choice for the day and wait for him to begrudgingly let you jump on his back for him to carry you back to the dorms. He’d never hear your annoying laugh again, or stare at the little mole you had under your left eye. The days of flushing in embarrassment when you forced a bit of pda on him in the hallway before class were gone, and so were your secret moments behind closed doors. There was no more holding back, he was crying again.

He wouldn’t see you again.

Izuku gulped, frowning deeply,“I’m so sorry, Kacchan…”

He looked up, eyes somber.

You were the loss of Katsuki Bakugo’s life.

[purinfelix]

pretty as a picture - sim jake ˚⟡˖ ࣪

summary - in which your job as a photographer becomes unexpectedly difficult because of your new model ──── jake x photographer! reader || fluff, first meeting, they're both a little smitten || w/c; 566

a/n: idk what it is with my sudden bursts of inspiration to write for enha but i hope y'all enjoy this !!- the idea literally came to me as soon as i saw the first pic on pinterest lol

"Just a little to the left Jake."

"Like this?" you watch as his brows knit together, curving upwards as he follows your instructions obediently.

"Yes, exactly," you say with a smile, positioning yourself behind the camera lens once more.

You have to say he's one of the most difficult clients you've worked with so far, and being a professional photographer you don't say that often. Though it definitely isn't because of his inexperience or uncooperativeness - actually it's the complete opposite. He follows your instructions exactly, and you can tell he's not new to these sorts of photoshoots. The issue is that every time you find yourself looking through your camera, into his eyes you're caught off guard at the sight of him looking back at you so earnestly - making you lose focus.

It's to the point where this photoshoot, which was only supposed to take twenty minutes, has stretched out to an unbearable one-hour-long challenge. You told yourself you'd finish up soon, though there's something about this concept that you feel you're struggling to capture - or maybe it's the fact that your subject matter is too frustratingly handsome. Whatever it is, it's taking forever and you can feel fatigue taking its toll on you as you let out a soft yawn before walking towards him again.

"Actually, try going back to the right, and maybe straighten up a little," you say, chewing your bottom lip in thought. You're endeared by how obedient he is though - it's almost as if he understands exactly what you want out of him, and is more than eager to deliver.

Still, something doesn't seem right and you can't help but let out a soft laugh at how ridiculously tired you feel - though it's clear this intention didn't come across.

"Wh- am I doing it wrong?" he suddenly asks, round eyes flicking up to you in worry.

"Oh, no-" you rush to reassure him, "it's just, I'm sorry this is taking forever you must be so tired," you sigh.

He only offers a soft smile in response, and a small shrug, "I'm alright, it's not too bad."

You nod back, feeling spurred on by his suddenly genuine response, now determined to complete the shoot for the sake of repaying his patience with you. Before you realise it you're grabbing his wrist gently, pulling it up to rest on the block in front of him and guiding his chin into its hold. It's only when you snap out of your sudden burst of inspiration that you notice just how close you are to him and how softly his gaze lands on you, in a way that makes him look almost in awe with you.

"Like this?" he says, barely above a whisper and you can't help but feel a small amount of pride at the fact that he's only talking to you now.

"Perfect," you hum back, holding back a smile as you rush back to the camera to capture his pose. It's only once you're behind the lens that you notice the smile spread across his face and light blush tinging his cheeks, which you tell yourself is just the job of the makeup department. Though it's hard to deny the way he looks straight into the camera lens, almost through it to you - meeting your eyes warmly as you take his picture and without even checking it you know it's perfect.

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 14)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

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

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

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

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

Part 14 Someone like her

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

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

MDNI ☎️💚🏡

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

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

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

Wasteful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I just love you so much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you’d never! This is slander!”

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

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

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

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

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

Brenda was left fiddingly with her pearls in horror. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He was your burlesquer’s manager.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the smile for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got any hobbies?”

“Kenny.” Freeman chided.

“Sir.” Brady added it sarcastically.

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

Of course he did.  “Sports?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A mistake?

“Understood.” Pushing off of the wall.

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

“Beth’s.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How could they?”

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

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

“Those detectives! Accuse you of debauchery!” 

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chewed slowly, since the misunderstanding he was a little more nervous than usual. You didn’t want him to join you, were you worried Brady would see? He shook his head, confusing you.

“...excuse me?” You laughed, “No?”

His head popped up, he still sometimes forgot you were right there and not on a phone, “Sorry, I was thinking about what to do with myself. No problem, sweetheart. You can just call me when you’re ready and I’ll head back into town. I’ll stick around the house, get some stuff ready for winter.”

“Perfect!” Perfect. 

So it was decided. He would tell you tomorrow that Brady came by his office. And you’d tell him Saturday that you were in love with him. 

That was the short lived plan. He couldn’t manage to wait. When the silence of the night settled and you had turned over to try and fall asleep, he broke. 

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

You have secrets? You turned around and sat up. 

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

A beat of confusion, tense for Alastor but void of anything for you, until you burst into a relaxed laughter, “You’re ridiculous. You were really eaten up huh?”

“It isn’t funny!”

“It’s a litlte funny.” you pulled his head down onto your lap, “You coulda told me. It doesn't ruin anything. I told you he was going to look for you. I didn’t think he’d do it the next business day, but still.” He shifted his body to lie on his side and let you take off his glasses and set them on your side table. “Do you think he still suspects you?”

He thought about it. A little.

Maybe.

Brady seemed dejected when he had left, but he could see the wheels turning in his head as he was still searching for a way to make this puzzle pieces fit. 

“Probably. His partner seemed to believe me. A listener, it turns out.” Alastor pouted, still upset at your laughter. 

“That’s hilarious. I bet it pissed him off to no end, right?”

“He looked shocked. It was difficult to not laugh.” He let his legs fall off the side of the bed so he could turn onto his back and look up at you. “I told him you were a fling, that I had my fun and then disappeared because you were trouble. I said nude dancers getting beat up should be expected. I don’t mean that.”

“Of course you don’t. I remember your face when you saw through my makeup. Sure didn't look expected to me.”

His legs drew up, knees pressed together. “Was it still a good day?”

“You told me what was on your mind instead of driving yourself mad about it. It was a perfect day.” The open window let in enough light to see his stress melt away from the corner of his eyes. 

He sat up and kissed your nose, “Thank you. You can sleep now.”

“Oh, I've been asleep the whole time. You’re gonna have to do this all again in the morning.”

“That’s not funny.” 

You kissed his cheek and he smiled away the frown before settling back onto his side of the bed to earnestly sleep.

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

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

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

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

The panic didn’t settle for you either though. It just shifted to the confession from Brady. As if through osmosis, Brady was now Alastor’s main concern as soon as their hands shook. You were less scared, as he really did seem to be dismissed by his colleague from what you saw. Dejected and forlorn from what Alastor had described. 

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

And he felt like shit. When they left the radio station, Freeman gave him the silent treatment the entire ride back to work. He opened his mouth to offer an alternative theory, perhaps you or Alastor had a brother, but Freeman immediately shut him down.

“Stop. Enough.” He snapped from his desk. “It is over, Kenny. Let it go. Maybe some monster is out there doing all this crazy shit you think they are but it’s not this man nor this lady so just fucking drop it.”

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

Staring at his neatly folded map of downtown, his fingers slid over the last known locations of the various missing people over the past year. 

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

He went home to his wife and startled her with his promptness. While she was elated, he felt hollow. Purposeless. Freeman had warned him he’d invented this conspiracy to make work more interesting. Maybe that was right. Life was boring. Everything was so steady and stable. Nothing exciting anymore. It’s possible. He could have imagined a connection. 

But his wife accidentally stoked the dying flame of his suspicions. 

When he told her everything, about Alastor and the dancer he chased down and the missing Tommy, she hummed. 

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

Brady asked what she meant. 

“He killed all these people at his hotel. On the outside he was a very fine looking man! Respected doctor, or something.” She took her time to chew, leaving Brady waiting for the point, “Turns out his hotel had some secret dungeon where he killed people. I’m fuzzy on the details, but, he hung for it. Maybe your guy has a secret room in his house or a cabin in the woods.”

He would have kissed her but he was too tired to move. As she continued on, changing to the topic of novels and then movies, he pushed the potatoes around his plate. 

No way work would listen to him if he suggested it. He’d lost all of his goodwill. But, as a citizen, he could maybe just….look into the public records for the radio man. Any convenient structures he owned. No one needed to know, no embarrassment if he was wrong again.

Just, one more check. To be absolutely sure. For his peace of mind. 

“So he murdered the actress for threatening to reveal he was only half white! It was a real shock. I swear talkies just get more and more intriguing.” She beamed sweetly across the table, happy to have him home, “By Hitchcock. Isn’t that a hoot?”

He nodded absentmindedly, “Sounds fun, dear.”

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

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

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

Flawless.

Honestly, the easy part.

Alastor dropped you off in front of your building and you kissed him hurriedly. You didn’t need Ephi bounding down the steps and introducing herself. 

You didn’t need Ephi, full stop.

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

You waved him off and bounded up the steps. Ephi answered when you knocked, hair disheveled and still wearing the dress she must have worn out the night before.

A familiar dress.

“Who said you could wear my clothes?!” You kicked the door closed behind you.

Ephi fell back onto your bed with a creaking of the metal springs, “You didn’t say I couldn’t.”

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

Shoes off, you threw them on top of the closet out of her natural reach and searched for something flatter. Not too flat though. Alastor always looked too good for you to look like you didn’t care for what was fashionable.

Deep breaths, you grabbed the dresser with both hands and wretched it from the wall, startling Ephi back awake.

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

Relief as you saw the handkerchief still taped to the backboard of the shelf. Ripping it off, you shoved it into your bag. No need to count it, had Ephi found the cash the entire thing would be gone already. 

“Are you hiding money around your apartment…,” it wasn’t a question so much as an oddly worded accusation.

Your march to the door paused, briefly entertaining carrying your remaining clothes around with you but abandoning the idea. Let her borrow them for now, you were busy today.

You were gone without a goodbye, anger simmering away and evaporating with every block. 

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

He was in the kitchen splashing his face with water,  dusty from sweeping the porch, when he heard a car door slam shut. Not a normal sound for him to hear. Even more out of place than a ‘welcome home’. A moment of concern as he quickly dried his hands, maybe you had gotten a ride home already. It was possible he missed your call, but he’d kept the windows open to hear the phone. 

When he came to the front door, no one was there. A car was parked a ways behind his own though. Alastor stepped out and looked around the wrap around porch before turning back and going to the back door. Past the stairs and the kitchen doorway, he could see the shape of a man. He was standing in front of the greenhouse with both hands on his hips, staring at it. Bright hair reflecting the sun.

The screen door whined as Alastor opened it, announcing him much sooner than he had wanted. It was finally happening. The moment that was both inevitable and fiercely guarded against. 

“Census information is quite easy to find with a name like yours.”

Alastor tried to muster a hospitable smile, “Detective Brady. To what do I owe the sudden visit?”

Brady turned around and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, “I need to go get a warrant?”

The air between them tightened. “Not at all, did you want to come inside?” 

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

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

“Wasn’t expecting guests…,” he admitted as he came back down the clean steps. He was never expecting guests, but he had been expecting this. 

“Good.” Brady clapped his hands together, “Quite the building ya got here.” He followed Alastor in and immediately looked up to the tall ceiling. “An uncommon thing to have. Only seen them at real fancy public places.”

Alastor turned right, following the winding path of busy shelves and potted trees with a practiced ease. Brady watched him slip between two large plants and hesitated.

With a hand on his gun, be pushed through.

“Ya know what my wife and I were just talking about?” He followed close behind. He couldn’t see Alastor but he could hear the leaves rustling. “H. H. Holmes.”

“Another missing manager?” Alastor asked from the other side of some crowded shelves.

“It’s thought he killed 9 people up in Chicago.” Brady emerged from the makeshift jungle to see Alastor standing in the center. 

“Busy man!” Alastor stood with his hands behind his back, sheathed in his pockets. “This is where the magic happens!” He nodded to the stainless steel table. “My gardening space.”

Brady looked at the table, then up to the high ceilings again. He took a step toward the table and crouched down.

His heels sunk in. Standing, he pressed his shoe in the soil around the table. Backing off he then tested the ground some feet away. It was noticeably firmer. “Ground sure is soft over there.”

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

The whole thing could be expedited by letting him bleed out on the greenhouse floor. Just a few swipes and this could all be over. He could maybe even have him gone before you called. 

Another little secret. Just one. Brady’s life was an insignificant detail.

Plausible, the detective thought. Brady examined the floor closer, unaware of Alastor’s eyes locked on his neck. He didn’t see much of a soft spot. It’d be improbable to bury all the bodies in such a small space. He’d have to dig too deep. 

“So you actually do like to garden?” He asked.

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

Brady’s own laugh was dry in reply, the joke not funny or appreciated, “Night gardening?” He pointed his chin up to the light hanging above them.

“I prefer early mornings, before work.” Alastor leaned back on his heels, he’d waited for this conversation for years. It was almost fun. Brady didn’t know how predictable his arrival had been on some vague level.

Brady nodded and motioned for Alastor to lead him out. He didn’t want the man behind him.

As they snaked their way out again, Alastor fought the sickening feeling in his stomach to just do it. 

But he���d never acted quite so impulsively. He normally had a few hours to think it out beforehand. 

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

Alastor locked the door after Brady stepped out and Brady looked around the land. He couldn’t see any fences, but saw on his way in just how spread out the other homes were. 

“How far is the property line, if you don’t mind me asking? Seems to be quite a large parcel.” He had a rough idea from the paperwork he’d found. 

“It’s about 15 acres, from what I recall.” It was exactly 14.2 acres according to the paperwork. He knew every step by heart. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Detective Brady.” He corrected. 

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

Brady finally noticed the dwindling space between them and the shadow of the house creeping over Alastor’s face. “Maybe I should head out and get that warrant.”

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

Brady shook his head, not able to do much more. He couldn’t process the truth in what Alastor had said. “Have a good day, Alastor.”

“And you have a safe night, Kenneth.”

Brady stopped, hand curling into a fist that Alastor didn’t fail to notice. 

“Is that some kind of threat?” It was the way he dragged out the two words. The gleeful range in which he said them. 

“Not at all. A warning really, there’s been some unhinged man harassing dancers lately. Demanding their private information, accusing them of silly crimes. Has the station not heard?” Alastor’s finger came to his chin inquisitively, “Perhaps I should give them a call. Who was your boss again. Freeman, was it?”

Brady felt his stomach drop, “What did you say.” If Alastor hadn’t been with you since before the assault, how did he know that Brady had been struggling to track you down?

“As a man about town who runs in important circles, word travels fast of bothersome people. Helps us learn where to avoid.”

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

A man who ran in various circles of the nightlife scene. 

A man above the fray, a position afforded to him by the respect of his job.

A man people talked to often, therefore a man people saw everywhere. So it was never odd that he was always in the places where people went missing. He was ubiquitous. Where the jazz played, Alastor was there. 

A man with no wife to complain so his nights were free. 

A large piece of land. A chip on his shoulder. 

“You son of a bitch…I didn’t tell you Tommy had been involved in drugs. I was right.” The sentence got quieter and softer as he trailed on until he could only whisper, “You killed him.”

Alastor watched the color drain from Brady’s face as the realization hit, but the ‘son’ comment blanketed his frontal cortex and dampened impulse control, “On second thought; yes.”

It was just an expression, son of a bitch, but it’d been the wrong one to use so carelessly. Alastor’s heart was pounding in his ears and behind his eyes.

The detective kept his gaze locked on Alastor as he fished out his keys. His hand shook violently as he tried to get the car door key in his fingers. “Yes what?” Glancing down for a fraction of a second to check he had the right one. 

“That was a threat.”

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

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

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

Brady walked backwards to his car as Alastor advanced briskly with the blade still raised. When they reached the front porch Brady turned and booked it, glancing behind to see Alastor standing beside the porch on foot worn grass.

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

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

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

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

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

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@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[bengiyo]

Ben's Big BL Blurb 3: Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Blew It, But I Still Recommend It

I finished Blue Canvas of Youthful Days today, and I don’t like where we left off with this show. Let’s get into that, and then check in on some of the other shows I’m watching.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Didn’t Give the Audience Catharsis

I don’t begrudge the show going for a happy ending, given how so many other BLs from their home country end with sudden traumatic turns. However, I don’t feel like we got catharsis from the ending at all. I struggle to full articulate my frustration here, but I think I just really wanted an ending akin to Weekend (2011) or Gameboys 2 (2022).

I think these two were in a position where they were unable to be together now, and I think they should have ended on a separation. When Cairo and Gav had to separate at the end of Gameboys, it was the correct choice. They were still building their lives, and Gav wasn’t doing well on his on. Similarly, Blue Canvas established a scenario whereby Qi Lu did not have the power to stop his father from harming Qin Xiao. Likewise, Qin Xiao couldn’t keep the local gang from beating Qi Lu.

I would have preferred they have the boys confront that they were hiding things from each other, and how they both failed to protect each other from the horrors. I am disappointed that we didn’t get a poignant goodbye from them as they accept that they can’t be together right now. I wouldn’t have minded so much a blurb at the end of the show with the pitch for a season 2 that they didn’t get to film (though @thisonelikesaliens commentary makes even what they wrote dour). We didn’t confront the issue with the dad at all, and we didn’t deal with Qin Xiao losing all he’d worked for.

Genuinely, I would have been okay with them getting a tag at the end of the show with them seeing each other on the street again and sharing a meaningful look. However, we never saw them face the music of their double noble idiocy, and that sucks. It especially sucks because we had Let Free The Curse of Taekwondo this year, and so we saw the consequences of this. We could have had these two railing against the world and promising to see each other again. The tag at the end of the reuse of the fantasy sequence feels tacked on and unearned. That kinda sucks more.

Final Verdict: 8, Recommended With Reservations. I really liked most of this show, and I think they wrote some phenomenal characters until the finale here. Like @lurkingshan I ended up not pleased with this ending. I am disappointed in the lack of resolution about the withholding, and I think they needed to face the separation and goodbye. However, I really liked the cast, and I respect the team that worked so hard to get this to us.

On to the rest of the show, presented in no particular order…starting with the worst. I’ll put in parentheses what episode number I’m on as of this post.

Haunted Hearts is Boring (5/7)

Magic, mah friend! Your show is boring. I do not know why these boys won’t kiss, and at this point I feel like I don’t care anymore. They’re introducing yet another ghost next week and I just am so disinvested. I try so hard every time to support Oxin Films and Regal Entertainment, but they make it so fucking hard. Holy shit. There’s only so far the boys being cute can carry a thin concept like this.

City of Stars is Better Than I Expected (2/12)

I am catching up on this show. The acting isn’t great, but I’m really enjoying a lot of what’s happening here. I will report back when I finish.

See Your Love is Fun But Kinda Weird (7/13)

The visuals are great in this show, and the leads are filling in the aesthetic gap left behind by Jimmy and Tommy in a way that really works for me. There’s been way too many pratfalls in the last two episodes. We are at 1.5 pratfalls per episode at this point. The side couple is absolutely ridiculous. I’m having fun.

Caged Again is Becoming a Favorite (4/10)

Junior is the best protagonist of the year. I’m obsessed with this penguin boy. I love the way this show uses its supernatural elements to drive its storytelling forward, even if I think the plot got a little silly in episode 4. The friend group dynamics are so fun, and I haven’t enjoyed a group of Thai boys this much since Knock Knock, Boys! (no surprise, two of them are in this show, too).

Your Sky is a Weekly Delight (3/12)

The 2gether rewrite show is great, and I will be reading no commentary to the contrary. These boys are so great, and they are one of the best couples of the year. This show is doing fake dating in a way that’s just so excellent, because it’s real dating! The boys are genuinely trying to get know each other so they can pretend to be a better fake couple. This is so close to being excellent meta commentary about dating in the digital age, and how so much of dating for the current generation is about how others perceive the validity of your relationship. It’s actually so fun to watch a show where the characters are doing all the things you’re supposed to do when you’re trying to build something with someone, but one of them doesn’t fully understand what they’ve gotten into. This show is great, and I love it.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan is so Slick (5/10)

If there’s one thing a Japanese drama is going to get right it’s trauma! This show delivered on Kai’s horrors in a way that was so visceral that I needed to pause and catch a breath. I remain obsessed with the casting of Nagatsuma Reo as Kai, because he’s taller than Suzuki Asahi sometimes. I really love that they didn’t give us the BL height difference trope, and I like that they didn’t style Kai in a way to make him look more feminine. There’s a egalitarian physical balance between Fuma and Kai that I find extremely refreshing, considering the massive class, wealth, and suffering gap between the two characters. It’s no surprise that we’ve had a dearth of gifs of their sex scene, considering it doesn’t play to the kind of asymmetric aesthetics that folks seem enjoy in their pairings.

As always, the Rei and Kai friendship remains one of the best parts of this story, and I like the way this version of Sky talks to this version of Rain about the queer stuff. He feels like he’s being careful with his friend, and not just ghosting him on important conversations about his friend’s sexual awakening (one of my major gripes with the original Thai adaptation).

Our Youth is Taking Over My Brain (4/11)

I have not moved on from the “Infect me” line, and I am still obsessed with the plausible deniability of the “no homo” that Hirukawa relies upon as he continues to pursue Minase. Now that Minase has reached his breaking point, I’m so looking forward to seeing where we go next. We’re due for a major separation, and I’m ready for a Japanese BL to not fuck up a second chance romance attempt this time. Perhaps adapting Korean work could the solution?

Spare Me Your Mercy is a Welcome Return to the Sammon Feeling I Enjoy (1/10)

I just really love when Sammon shows feel like the mystery matters more than the romance, and this feels like it’s in the correct space. I loved the initial setup, and the potential for there to be multiple murderers. I really hope that they start killing younger people in this show, because they said there were only 40 palliative care patients, and we downed three of them in the first episode. I’m so happy to see JJ again, and Tor looks great. I am looking forward to the weekly watch and theorizing with this show. Most importantly, I’m looking forward to the complex meditation on euthanasia, which this story feels like it’s taking seriously.

Love is Like a Poison Finally has Given Us a BL Battle Couple Again (11/12)

We haven’t had a BL battle couple in what feels like forever. I love that this show continues to reward us for believing in Haruto and Shiba. Haruto’s dad is the absolute worst, and I really want him to lose. I love Shiba, and I love that the show continues to give him some of the visual tropes of a legal drama (like the pan up near the end). I’m in love with this show, and it’s going to be one of my favorites of the year, I’m sure.

Fragrance You Inherit Hurts Me Because Everyone is Doing The Right Thing (4/8)

This show is actually so painful sometimes, because no one is doing anything wrong. Everyone is being as emotionally honest as they can be with everyone they speak to about all of the things that are going on. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Sakura choosing to let go of her lingering crush on Mone now that they’re both moms and their kids are dating. Besides, we presume that Mone is still married! The conversation with On-chan makes me think that Mone misunderstood the relationship Sakura had with him in college (My man is ace but not aro! We love to see it).

I just really love that everyone is trying to do right by everyone around them, and I think all of the things that remain unspoken in this show have been withheld for completely valid reasons. There are no villains in this story, and that makes it even harder to watch really kind people treat each other politely in every scene. I’m just feeling a quiet scream in me the entire time I watch a good son by a thoughtful gift for his loving mother with the help of his supportive and lovely girlfriend, as he prepares a surprise from the old friend who clearly still cares about her friend and the unrequited/unexpressed feelings between them. This show is incredible. Go watch it right now. Thank you again to @isaksbestpillow.

Conclusion

That’s more shows than I’ve been watching in a while. It’s nice to have some Thai shows back in my rotation that I’m actually enjoying. I really want the Chinese to now fuck up their endings, but it seems like 2024 will not be that year. I’ll try to check in with the end of Love is Like a Poison when the Netflix release schedule completes so folks can binge it then. In the mean time, let me know what you’re enjoying, and what else I should consider picking up.

[littleredwolf]

The Sleepover

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 1,740

Summary: Bucky and Y/N have been dating for a while but he is yet to spend the night at her place. After breaking down barriers and allowing himself to drop his guard, Bucky soon decides it’s finally time to take the next step. 

Warnings: Mentions of Bucky’s PTSD/recovery 

A/N: This was inspired by the scene in TFATWS that shows Bucky waking up on his apartment floor. It’s such a visceral moment that sheds light on just how much trauma he carries with him, and I wanted to bring some lightness to that in the form of Y/N. Long story short, I just wanted our favourite super soldier to receive the comfort he so desperately needs and deserves.

--

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the unmistakable roar of Bucky’s motorcycle pulling up outside, and you launched yourself off the couch to greet him. The two of you had been dating for a little over four months now but tonight was the first time he was staying over and you were practically vibrating with excitement. 

You had met a year ago when you’d been paired together on a scouting mission in Bucharest, spending an intensive four weeks trailing a suspected arms dealer. After spending the better half of a month shacked up together in a dingy apartment, it was inevitable you'd open up to one another eventually. After months of skirting around your feelings and your friends encouraging you both to speak up, the two of you had eventually plucked up the courage to confess your feelings and the rest, as the saying goes, was history. 

Bucky had been a true gentleman from the very beginning and had confessed early on that he'd wanted to take things slow - it had been a long time since he'd courted a woman and thanks to his coloured past he'd all but given up on the prospect of love, so the concept of a relationship was one he still sometimes struggled to get his head around. 

You understood completely and had made every effort not to overwhelm him. You were fully aware of his trauma and the suffering he'd endured and endeavoured to provide him with a calm, safe space that allowed him to let his guard down in a way he was comfortable with.

Over the last few months he'd gotten much better with touch and now it was at a point where he practically craved it. Whether he was holding your hand, laying his head in your lap while you watched TV or wrapping his arms around you from behind while you were cooking dinner, Bucky loved touch and would always find an excuse to be near you or touching you in some way. You were more than happy to indulge his needs and fussed over him at every opportunity, joking that he was like an overgrown puppy when it came to affection.

You could have cried with how sweet he’d been when he’d kissed you for the first time - he was so careful as he’d tenderly pressed his lips to yours, as though expecting to break you, and in that moment it had dawned on you that he probably wasn’t used to being so gentle towards another human being. 

It was so fulfilling witnessing this once broken man rebuilding and flourishing in his new life, and you felt truly honoured that he wanted you to be a part of it. 

At the sound of a knock at the door your excitement grew to an almost immeasurable amount, and you took a moment to gather yourself before answering. 

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d gone to bed alone after spending an evening with Bucky, aching for him to be beside you, and although you understood and respected his reasons for not staying you couldn’t help the sting of loneliness that crawled in whenever he left at the end of an evening.

The sight of him standing in your doorway with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder was one you’d never dared to believe you’d witness, yet here he was, casually leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to answer the door. 

“Hey Buck,” you grinned, stepping forward to greet him with a kiss which he eagerly welcomed. Wrapping his arms around you, he guided you backwards into your apartment, dropping his bag and kicking the door to a close behind him. You were breathless when he pulled away, staring up at him in awe.  

“Wow, that was…just, wow,” you marvelled, completely lost for words. 

“I could hear your heartbeat so I thought I’d ease some of your nerves,” he smirked, and your cheeks reddened at his confession. 

“Dammit Barnes, I told you not to use your super hearing on me. What if I was in the bathroom!?”

“You think I haven’t heard you pee before?” His laughter - one of your favourite sounds - echoed around the room as you shot him a horrified glare, and he quickly pulled you into his embrace to ease your embarrassment. 

“I’m reconsidering this sleepover already,” you grumbled into his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist, breathing in his leathery scent. He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. 

“Come on doll, why don't you show me where I’ll be sleeping.”

You immediately perked up at his words - which you suspected was his plan - and with a grin you grabbed his bag and led him to the bedroom to unpack.

–

The evening passed like any other - you cooked dinner, played some board games, and ended the night cuddled up on the couch with a movie - but instead of falling asleep in Bucky's arms like you usually did, you felt wide awake. 

Bucky switched off the TV as you began to tidy away your empty glasses and snacks, and an awkward silence hovered over the room as you both pondered how to navigate the rest of the evening. 

"So, sweetheart…what do you usually do at this point?" Bucky broke the silence as he came to lean against the counter beside you.    

"Well, usually, once you've left I go to bed," you replied, realising that the suggestion of going to bed may be misinterpreted and quickly adding, "but we don't have to do that yet if you're not tired." 

Bucky's hand came to rest on your arm and you looked up to find him smiling reassuringly. 

"It's okay, doll. I'm happy to go to bed," he murmured, trailing his hand down to entwine his fingers with yours and leading you to your room. 

You were already in your pyjamas so you slipped straight under the covers while Bucky walked round to the other side of the bed and began undressing down to his boxers. You couldn't resist a sneaky peek while his back was turned, and as soon as you gave in to your temptation you regretted it immediately - Bucky's chiselled body was truly a sight to behold and one you were sad to have to tear your eyes away from. 

"Would you like me to strike a pose?" Your boyfriend's playful voice broke your train of thought and you snapped your eyes to his, finding him smirking at you with his hands on his hips. 

You'd been caught red handed, and red faced! Your cheeks were blazing and you pulled the covers up to hide your face as Bucky crawled in next to you. The embarrassment quickly dissolved once he was laying next to you, your mind suddenly too preoccupied to care, and you turned to face him with a grin. 

"You're here," you said gleefully, melting into his open arms. 

"I'm here," he echoed, his smile mirroring yours.

With a tender kiss he pulled you closer, tucking you under his chin in a firm but gentle embrace, and soon you found the tendrils of slumber pulling you into the sleepy abyss. 

– 

A few hours later you were awoken by a cold breeze at your back, and you reached your hand out in the darkness, heart sinking when an empty bed greeted you. 

Had Bucky left? Had he changed his mind about spending the night? Had you imagined the whole thing? 

Your thoughts teetered on a downward spiral as you sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, but your insecurity quickly turned to confusion when you looked to your side and found that not only was Bucky missing from your bed, but his pillow was too. 

Eyebrows knitting together, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up to try and solve the mystery, but you didn't get very far before your foot bumped into something solid. 

Bucky. 

The super soldier sat bolt upright at your touch, wide eyes staring straight ahead, and for a moment you feared he'd forgotten where he was altogether. He soon came to his senses, however, shaking off any remnants of sleep and looking up at you with a sheepish expression. 

"I, uh…sometimes find it hard to sleep," he offered, fidgeting with the blanket he must have grabbed from the couch. "Sorry, I'm still kinda getting used to the idea of a comfortable bed." 

He chuckled dryly and your chest tightened at his doleful expression - here was this brave, strong man who had been through hell, and he was apologising!? 

That just would not do. 

"Oh, Buck," you cooed, sinking to your knees in front of him and holding his face in your hands. "You don't need to apologise for anything." 

His eyes met yours and you hoped he could see the love and sincerity in them. The guards he worked so hard to keep up slipped just a tiny bit, and he gave you a tearful smile as he rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. Kissing the top of his head, you turned and reached up to grab your pillow off the bed, setting it on the floor beside his before reaching back again for the covers. 

"You don't have to do this, doll. You won't be comfortable," he protested once he realised you were intending to join him, but you simply waved a hand to quiet him.

"We're in this together now baby," you softly reassured, adjusting the blanket so it covered the both of you. "I'm right here with you every step of the way." 

You kissed him deeply and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down with him as he laid back on the hardwood floor. By no means was it comfortable and you knew in the morning your back would be aching, but none of that mattered while you were at Bucky's side. 

He'd been fighting his demons for so long, and he'd likely be fighting them for a long time to come, but there was no way you were going to let him continue fighting them alone. 

Tucked tightly into Bucky's side, your head on his chest and the sound of his heart beating in your ears, you fell back to sleep with surprising ease, and neither you, nor Bucky, woke again until morning. 

[bokettochild]

What is Legend’s and post-totk Wild’s relationship like? Does it change or is it the same?

Honestly, I keep trying to write an answer but all I have are inexplicable vibes.

It would change. Legend's the same as he was but Wild's grown up. Wild would be either 22 or 23 by the time TotK is over (in game we're told it's been 5 years since BotW) meanwhile Legend is still, at best, 17, but likely 16.

That's a 6-7 year age gap where before they were either the same age or very close.

Legend's still got his experience, but now Wild has the context of years, of knowing what normal looks like. Post BotW Wild has no concept of normal or peace, but post TotK Wild would have spent 5 years just existing and doing People Things. He knows what normal kids are like now. He's a teacher. He's a leader. He's an adult, even if he's still a young one. But he's got that frame of reference that Legend never has had of what life looks like after the adventure, but now also with the understanding that legend does have of the fact that heroes' can be ripped away any time, life uprooted to save the world again at any moment.

Wild has life experience that Legend can't fathom. Wild knows what growing up is like. Wild knows what peace looks like now.

Legend doesn't even know what the word "retirement" means, much less "stop" or "peace". He's used to having only enough time to heal between adventures before heading out again, if that!

I think Wild would come back, thinking he could slip back in, just to realize he can't see his brothers the same anymore. I won't dig in too deep, since you just asked about him and Legend, but for the vet I think he'd just get shocked at how young his brother really is, by how screwed up Legend's outlook on life is, and I think he'd be floundering because the guy he used to look to as a veteran, an expert and a role model, is actually just a teenager with too much responsibility on his shoulders.

I don't think he'd know what to do with that, because that's still his brother, but Legend's no longer his BIG brother, or at least not his peer. Legend's younger than him now, and much as he tries to see the vet the same way he used to, he'd just keep realizing how screwed up everything about Legend really is.

Meanwhile Legend, Mister Abandonment-Issues, would be over here struggling with the feeling of being left behind and out of the know and suddenly feeling small around a hero who used to make him feel so big. Wild's an adult now, but he's not supposed to be. Wild's matured now (but still Wild) and he's not sure what to do with that. Wild is wiser now, knows things, isn't charging in without thought anymore, and Legend has to adjust his whole perception all while wondering if this is even the same guy. All while trying his hardest not to let on that he feels that way because you bet your BUTT this kid has gotten enough grief over the years for not being the same kid people used to know that he has no wish to make anyone else feel that.

Like, adventures change you, a LOT. Legend's had a lot of adventures, ergo; he's changed a ton over the years and it definitely throws off everyone who knows him every single time. it's not his first rodeo, but it is the first time he's not been the one riding the bull that is change.

I think they'd both struggle a lot with this. I think there'd be a lot of frustration and fear on Legend's side and a lot of shock and confusion on Wild's. I think both would grieve, and I know Legend wouldn't be the one to know how to fix it.

Legend fixes problems, but the thing that sets him apart from the rest of the heroes is that he's never had time between adventures to actually process and learn healthy coping mechanisms or ways to express himself. Kid knows how to fix other people's shit, but never his own.

Wild would have to be the one to cross the divide between them, and as the older brother now, I think that would just make it all the weirder for both of them.

Anyways, congrats, I had enough brainrot about this that I wrote a dang fic and then sobbed for a good ten minutes in a public coffee shop T-T

Thanks for the ask!

[calypso-apologist]

Am I crazy if I ask for Zeus with Telemachus's twin sibling. Okay I'm heading out GOODBYE

get your ass back in here we balling

Zeus with Telemachus's twin sibling ♡

small cw: ending is left ambiguous, but it does have sexual and somewhat non-con implication. i don't think it's big enough to need a proper warning, but just in case.

Listen, we understand. No judging here.

The rule of xenia* can be really hard to maintain, especially for this damn long. And with the guests being like the suitors, not respecting xenia at all? Yeah, they are... a pain in the ass, to put it simply.

Trying to harass your mother, your family, your servants... Some even tried to get close to you or Telemachus to get to your mother. Others would just pick on you both. It was infuriating, and yet you both still tried... Until the fight between Antinous and your brother.

It was just far, far too much for you at that point. And yet, despite their disrespect, you couldn't just match it with your own.

So, you figured... perhaps you could ask for permission to do something about them.

And who could possibly give you such permission?

Why, King of Gods himself! Zeus Xenios*, the patron of hospitality.

With that in mind, you sneak out one night and head into his temple, with all the priests and worshipers gone, sleeping peacefully. You hoped this would make getting the god's attention just a little bit easier.

And surprisingly, it worked. A few cracks of thunder, sparks of lightning... and suddenly, a presence behind you. A big, strong hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you down onto your knees. You couldn't see his face, but the very gesture felt smug, very smug.

You stayed silent, waiting for him to speak first. You didn't doubt that it was, indeed, the Thunder Bringer himself. You could sense it, feel it in your very bones.

"Speak, [Prince/ss] of Ithaca*."

You stuttered a bit, earning a small chuckle from the god.

He put his other hand on your free shoulder, putting a bit more weight on you. It wasn't a gesture of comfort, no. More like a subtle mockery. You were so sure of yourself before, but the moment he appeared, you can barely get any words out. And he's enjoying it. A lot.

You could only hope the king of gods would be patient enough to wait as you collect your thoughts. So far, he seemed entertained by your very presence. By how quickly all your confidence vanished the moment he showed up.

Finally, you managed to speak, your head still low. You told him about all the ways the suitors disrespected xenia, your family and kingdom. How you tried your best to honor the rules of hospitality, but you felt like you should have the right to kick those bastards out, considering their behavior.

He was yet to speak again, but you could feel his smirk in the very air in the temple, his hands squeezing your shoulders harder, almost painfully. It was a struggle to keep your composure, but you managed to do so.

"My, my, little [prince/ss]... You're asking the God King to allow you to throw out your guests... What a brave soul you are..."

He slowly walked around you. One of his hands let go of you completely, the other's fingertips slowly moving along your body, from one shoulder to the other through the back of your neck, only to then hold your chin in a gentle yet strong grip. A clear message. Do not resist.

And so you didn't. As the Thunder Bringer stood before you, you didn't resist. As he raised your chin, tilting your head back so his bright, golden eyes could meet your own... you did not resist.

"Rise, [prince/ss] of Ithaca, child of Odysseus. I believe we have... much to discuss."

And you did not resist.

~

*Xenia - ancient Greek concept of hospitality, which demands that hosts must be hospitable and provide for the guests while the guests themselves must be courteous and not be a threat or a burden to the host. Of course this is a rather basic explanation, but you can read more about it on Wikipedia, there's even a section about Xenia in the Odyssey there.

*Xenios - one of Zeus's titles, used to emphasize his role as the patron of hospitality and guests, as well as avenger of wrongs done to strangers. Source: Wikipedia.

*[Prince/ss] of Ithaca - depending on what you prefer, can be read as Prince or Princess of of Ithaca. I couldn't find a gender neutral version that I liked.

[kitsunexgari]

Summary: You have been dating In-ho for quite awhile, and though things are amazing, there’s one fantasy you’ve always wanted to try. Something a bit darker than usual. One night he surprises you with your darkest desires. Tags: Edge Play, Torture, Fear play, Dom/Sub, Restraints, Consensual but pretty insane. Knife play, spanking, fingering, face fucking, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, humiliation, degradation, dirty talk, Read with Caution. Notes: This story is definitely not for everyone and may contain elements that people aren’t entirely happy with. Please read with caution. This story is for adult entertainment only. 

You have been dating In-ho for quite a long time now and both of you get along amazingly. Luckily when it all started you were both into the same things, wanted to explore the same concepts and eventually went from normal BDSM into edge play. Your sex life was anything but boring or vanilla but there was something in the back of your mind you always wanted to try. 

He always seemed kind of hesitant telling you that you wouldn't like it, that the fantasy was better than the reality. Not that he was really being dismissive or rude, just concerned that it could be too intense and scare you a bit too much. You reminded him that you had a safe word so if it got that way then it wouldn't matter but he didn't seem too keen on it. You figured that maybe he was right and you could live without that fantasy at least for now.

Still every time you entered the house alone it was on your mind. The thought of some intruder grabbing you, taking you somewhere “against your will” and forcing you into submission. Of course, the fantasy was for In-ho to do this while pretending to be someone else, and also, you knew he could because of who he was. You could see how it may not interest him, basically asking for him to “work” and also have sex with you but it never left the back of your mind.

In-ho had been out of town for a bit for work and you were returning from your own job. As you head into the kitchen to heat up some leftover food from the night before you are grabbed from behind. A knife presses into your throat as a hand covers your mouth. You scream and struggle until you realize you recognize this hold, you recognize this scent, you know exactly what and who this is even if you never expected it in a million years. Your heart is still pounding because he doesn't seem very keen on breaking the immersion of this fantasy despite your reaction.

"All alone?" He growls in your ear. 

"Yes I-" 

"SHUT UP!" he snarls, the knife pressing into your skin sharply cutting it just a bit. You hiss with pain but your body shivers with pleasure, completely stunned he's using a real knife but you have no complaints. He's done things like this before and you've always loved the little marks he's left to signify how much he owns you. "I know exactly what I'm going to do with you, little girl." 

You can feel him as he rubs against you a bit, how aroused he is already. You are a bit stunned as he always made it seem as if this scenario didn't interest him in the slightest but it is now clear that he'd been lying to you about it. He leans in and bites at your neck roughly, on the other side, as he keeps the knife pressed where it's already being held before he reaches up and grabs you by the hair yanking your head back so you are forced to look up at him at a nearly impossible angle.

"We are going to have a lot of fun," He grins. The switchblade he's holding is pocketed and you are pulled by your hair into the next room where he quickly pins you face first into a wall. "Such a pretty little cocktease you know I've been watching you for awhile." He grabs your ass, squeezing it painfully hard before yanking your arms behind your back and tying them at the wrists with some annoyingly rough and irritating rope but that just adds to the rest of the sensations that he is providing you. 

"Please-" 

"Please what? Do you think I fucking care what a little fuck toy like you wants? No...you're mine now and I will do what ever I please and you will do what I fucking say...got it?" He snaps though he doesn't give you any actual time to answer before he lifts you and throws you over his shoulder roughly. You squeal, not expecting that at all but he pays no attention to it. You are far too small and powerless to fight him, even if you actually wanted to, and now your arms are restrained behind your back making any effort futile. You kick your legs a bit which really only earns you a slap to your ass. Then another, then another. He's not being gentle either, in fact, he's using as much force as possible and it's harder than it's ever been. You are sure it will bruise but the idea of that only makes you wet. 

"Please...sir I don't want-" 

"The fuck did I just say about what you want?" He snarls and heads up the stairs with you. "Who's even gonna stop me, that weak little boyfriend of yours? Yes...I know." 

"He's-" 

"Oh no bitch...I'm your Daddy tonight." He cuts you off. You enter the bedroom and he throws you onto the bed with very little regard for your feelings, almost as if you are just a sex doll there for his pleasure. He looks you over with a gleam in his eye. The switchblade is once again removed from his back pocket. You whine and back up on the bed but there isn't much you can do with your hands tied like they are. The blade pops up and he joins you, crawling over you to hold the knife right where you can see it. Your eyes naturally focus on the weapon in his hand. "Going to be a good girl?" 

"Y-Yes..." You breathe but he slaps you roughly and then grabs your chin forcing you to look right back at him. 

"YES. WHAT?" He demands. 

"Y-Yes...Daddy." You whimper. 

"That's a good girl," He replies in a voice that is as sinister as it is soothing. He runs his tongue over the knife lewdly before he moves the blade down to your blouse, using it to slowly and meticulously pop off each button until he has it open. His strange grin gets even bigger when your breasts are partially exposed but he wastes no time cutting the bra open from the front to release them. "Fuck..." He leans in, starting to lick over your chest, seemingly making sure to leave behind as much saliva as he possibly can. 

"Please!" You beg pathetically, though what you really want is his cock you also don't know what kind of punishment you will get for not cooperating or what he'll do to you if you start begging like a pathetic little whore. 

"PLEASE! PLEASE HELP ME!" He taunts in a mocking voice before using the knife to make a cut across the top of your breasts, nothing that will scar or bleed too much but enough to sting. You cry out in pain and look away from him before he grabs your hair and turns your head back to look at him, roughly, and spits in your eyes. "You better start acting like the whore you are for him, you think I don't know huh? Bet you suck his cock real good little girl." 

"I...I don't-" 

"You don't what? I know what girls like you do...what you want...you fucking whore." He accuses moving the blade he's been using to your lips. "Give it a kiss...for Daddy." You whine and try to shy away but he persists until you have no choice but to kiss the blade. He laughs before violently stabbing the knife into the wall right by your head. Not expecting that you scream loudly, that seemed like a close call. 

"FUCK!" You yell then shy away from him as you notice that he didn't like a scream that loud in his face. 

"Fuck? Is that what you want? Thought you did, glad to see you're coming around on this." He grins. He pats your face roughly as if you are some sort of idiot lap dog before running his hand roughly up your thigh and under your skirt to your panties. "Looks like someone's hot and wet for Daddy..." He teases. You thrust up towards his hand and can't help but moan. He growls, shoving your panties aside to get two fingers in there roughly. You moan again and he leans in, capturing your mouth in a sloppy wet kiss. It seems he's intentionally being awful at this which only really makes it better.

"You think I'm really going to let you cum like this huh? Before me? Before DADDY?" He asks. You look at him, dumbfounded, then shake your head no slightly. He laughs, removes the fingers from your cunt and jams them into your mouth roughly, making you choke and gag, his other hand holding the back of your head in place so you can't possibly get away from this. "Think again...Daddy cums first and then maybe if you make it real good he'll let you cum too. Got that?" He pulls his fingers from your mouth and you gasp and cough trying to get your breath back. 

"Y-es Daddy...of course..." You pant. 

"Now...show me how you suck his cock." He tells you. He grabs your ankle and slides you down until you are on your back. Getting over you he unbuttons then unzips his pants, getting them down only far enough to get his cock out. He straddles you so he's right over your face, stroking himself a few times but he's already incredibly hard. Dripping precum. HIs hand moves to your jaw to pry it open before he jams himself in there angling his body in just the right way that he slips into your throat if you like it or not. "Oh yeah...fuck...that's a good little girl bet you don't ever let Daddy do this do you? No, you're too fucking good for that shit...stuck up little spoiled princess..." He's panting and even growling like an animal as he starts to fuck your throat almost as brutally as he'd fuck your cunt. It's restrained, of course, but it's still pretty rough. Not that you care, he hasn't ever done this before and you are in absolute heaven being used in such a fashion. 

"That's right...you're nothing but a dirty little bitch huh? I know you’re nice and fucking ready for me aren't you? But you aren't getting this cock...no you're just getting my cum going to take it like a good girl and like it." He pants and speeds up a bit. You know the best thing to do here is just relax and take it but luckily at this angle it makes it much easier for him to do what he's doing and keeps the gagging and choking to the minimum. You are already an expert at deep throating so that was never a problem but he's never attempted to literally fuck your throat. His groans are loud, coupled with angry almost feral growls as he continues his assault. Every so often he pulls back just enough to make sure you can get in a few gasps of air before going back to it until his hand grips at your hair tightly, yanking it back. 

He lets out an almost glorious roar as he cums but he makes sure to move back to get it in your mouth and then stroke the rest of it over your face and hair. You swallow when you get the chance, gasping loudly as you don't expect the rest of it. He smiles and sits back, admiring his work before he grabs your throat and shoves you until you are sitting up and looking him in the eyes as much as you can through the cum he left on your face.

"You pretend like you don't know what you're doing but you fucking know...I know all about girls like you. Get up." He snaps. All you can do is nod and scramble to your feet the moment he releases you. He gets up as well, tucking his cock away as you feel a sad pang that you won't be getting fucked with that tonight and yet, it'll still all be worth it, you are sure whatever he's about to do will make up for that. Grabbing your hair again he forces you down to bend over the bed. You struggle with your restraints and he shoves your skirt up over your hips to expose you from behind. He pulls the belt from his pants easily enough and lashes you a few times roughly. 

"Such a pretty little cunt...nice ass too...bet he loves that." He snarls and strikes you again causing another scream. "FUCKING THANK YOUR DADDY FOR TEACHING YOU A LESSON BITCH!" 

"T-Thank...Thank you Daddy! I deserve this!" You yell back without thinking. 

"Deserve it...for...what?" He demands punctuating the last two words with the most brutal slaps yet. You are sure he has broken the skin there and you become more positive as the belt drops and he grabs your ass again, squeezing it tightly. You scream.

"Thank you Daddy! I...I deserve this for being such a horrible...cockteasing...slut!" You sob, mostly because you are so desperate to cum it's painful and he's only denying you the pleasure you seek. He chuckles and slaps your cunt with his hand next as it is in the perfect position for that with how you are bent over the bed. For whatever reason, that's enough to send you over the edge to your climax. You squeal and writhe against the bed, pulling at the restraints around your wrists roughly. 

"Oh....no no little girl no one gave you permission to do that, you cum when Daddy tells you to cum," He breathes in a deliciously evil voice. His fingers penetrate you again, roughly but knowing exactly what you like. You squeal, as you are hypersensitive right now but he doesn't show any signs of relenting. He starts to use his thumb to stimulate your clit. You scream in pleasure and in pain almost unable to catch your breath, struggling to get away from him just as much as you struggle for more stimulation your body doesn't really know what it wants. "Aww is the poor little slut tired of cumming already?" 

"DADDY!" You screech but it doesn't matter, a moment later you a climaxing again and again, against your will but fuck...is it amazing. Pain, ecstasy, everything combined into one until you are certain you will pass out. Seemingly only after he's milked your body for every last orgasm it can possibly get he stops and removes his hand. He pats your ass gently and picks you up in his arms kissing your forehead. 

"You okay?" He asks softly. You glance up at him lazily, noticing his playful grin despite all his protests about not wanting to do this before you can see how proud he is of his own performance, and yours as well. 

"Yes," You whisper, "Thank you." 

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He says, then carries you towards the bathroom. You don't think you've ever experienced anything so intense with him before and you are grateful that this is the type of thing you two can share and enjoy together. 

[lovebeinaprincessworld]

Rough passion - Four

(Felix Volturi x reader)

Masterlist

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Another part of this slowly updating series, but as I said before they all have a happy ending so it can be read without all parts being finished!

Description: Felix and you finally try.

Warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), cum, bruises and broken beds

3788 words

It had only been a few hours after you two got “married” and you were kind of worked up now, thinking about that this could possibly mean he decided to try and have sex with you. But he hadn’t said anything yet, and you weren’t sure how to bring it up. You were laying on the couch again, some movie playing in the background, but you were just playing with your fingers mindlessly.

“Felix”, you finally got your throat to start working with you, having worked up the courage over the last hour or so. “Mhm”, he hummed, his hand on your waist encouragingly squeezing a little. “Remember like a month ago?”, you were talking like an idiot, how was he supposed to know what you meant. “You have to be a little more specific than that mia cara”, he chuckled and kissed your temple with his cold lips.

“I mean…uhm…when you said we would try…and now that we’re technically married…”, you let the rest of the sentence hang in the air, but going by the smirk on your mates face, he knew what you meant. “Try what?”, he feigned innocence and hummed when you blushed. “Don’t be mean!”, you whined, averting you gaze from his fiery one.

“Sorry love, I just love to see you blush”, he smiled and pulled you a little closer, your body not being able to do anything but relent. “We will try, but before that I will need to hunt tomorrow”, he explained and took your cheek into his hand softly, pulling your still blushing face towards him. The way he smiled down at you already made you want to rub your legs together, but you kept yourself from doing it. You didn’t want to come across as that desperate.

“So tomorrow evening?”, you mumbled, his lips already closing in on yours. He just nodded before sealing your lips with a kiss.

————————

Felix had left early, he told you he needed to hunt a few towns over to not rouse suspicion and it would take him until it was dark to come back. He wanted to make sure he drank enough, trying to do everything to make this easier. You were actually glad for the time so you could eat breakfast in peace and then right after lunch, you started to get ready.

That included showering, shaving (really neatly too, he could probably see and feel everything and you wouldn’t feel comfortable - eventhough he probably wouldn’t care if you would’t shave as it was a relatively modern concept), brushing your teeth, light makeup, moisturizing and styling your hair and then picking out your prettiest underwear. You made sure not to use anything heavily scented as he didn’t like when he couldn’t smell you.

You were still in the bathroom, a short dress thrown over your lingerie and brushing your hair one last time, when there was gust of wind and suddenly a large presence draped its arms around you from behind. You shrieked, your brush falling into the sink with a clatter and you heartrate was through the roof. “Felix!”, you scolded him, but when he littered kisses all over your neck you were struggling to remember why you even were angry.

“Sorry my love”, he mumbled against your neck, and he could hear your heartbeat calm down a little. “You look so pretty amore mio”, he was really looking forward to trying and seeing how you dolled yourself up had him hard in seconds. He had fed more than needed, just to make sure his thirst was down as much as possible, so he could concentrate on ruling in his strength and not both his strength and his thirst.

You met his eyes in the mirror, and the next second you were on your back on the spacious canopy bed with your muscly mate on top of you. “I told you we would try, but I can’t promise you anything”, Felix looked down at you with his bright red eyes, and you should’ve felt scared with such a dangerous predator on top of you, but it only made your small panties wet. “I know, let’s just try okay?”, you smiled gently and your hands found their way behind his neck.

He nodded and his lips feverishly pressed onto yours, cold but still pleasant and when his tongue softly slipped inside your mouth, you sighed happily, the thought of finally being so close to him making you rub your legs together. Since you were already wearing so little clothes, you started unbuttoning his shirt, glad that he wasn’t wearing anything else underneath. He shook it off once it was open and purred lowly when your small hands started to roam his perfectly sculpted chest and abs.

God, he already had trouble keeping his cool when he felt your warm hands on his body. You were so much smaller than him, and on one hand it turned him on unbelievably but on the other he was scared of hurting you. So he pulled back from the kiss and took a deep unnecessary breath before taking in your slightly panting and disheveled form. You looked like an angel, and his hands seemed to have a mind of their own, wandering up your thighs and waist and pushing your dress up in the process.

You could see his pupils blowing the moment your dress was high enough to show your panties, the lingerie making the tall male speechless and you giggled a little. “Fuck”, he mumbled, completely disregarding your amusement and hastily pulling of the whole dress, throwing it whereever.

His hands were gripping the mattress next to your body so hard he could feel the fabric give in, but the lingerie you decided to wear distracted him so he didn’t really care. This bed would be broken by the end of the night anyway. “Do you like it?”, you were blushing under his intense stare, and he could have cum in his pants at the innocent look you gave him. “Do I…love, you have no idea”, he chuckled, his gaze taking on a more predatory way.

His lips were on your neck in a second, sucking and kissing all the way down to your breasts that were perfectly pushed up by your bra. “All mine, my mate”, he growled against your hot skin, his coldness a stimulating contrast and his possessive words made the slick between your legs grow. His big hand snuck behind your arched back and your bra was gone just as fast as his mouth was on your nipple. You gasped at his sudden and speedy moves, your body reacting violently to your mate claiming you.

He switched to your other nipple, your hand gripping his hair which elicited a groan from him that vibrates against your skin, a shiver running through your whole body. “I’m way more undressed than you”, you panted, he was still wearing his black dress pants and you wanted them off. He didn’t seem to hear you so you pushed at his head with a whine, and he pulled back with a growl, making you shrink a little.

But your instincts seemed to find that primal possessive behaviour hot, and when you got even wetter you could see him inhale and close his eyes in pleasure. “Mia cara you smell so good, can’t wait to bury myself in your tight little pussy”, he looked feral, and you choked on your breath at the dirty words leaving his mouth.

“Please”, was all you could whimper, and he tried to distract himself from pouncing on you by getting rid of his pants like you asked him to. He could see the small wet patch on your panties from where he was kneeling between your legs and he shuffled down so he was laying between them, his face near your pussy. “Can I?”, he was practically vibrating with the need to satisfy his mate, and he couldn’t wait to taste you.

“Yes, yes please”, you were breathless, and his patience was thin, so he ripped the skimpy panties and threw them away, his eyes curiously glancing at your shaved pussy. His fingers glided over the soft skin in wonder. “Did you shave?”, he asked, the neediness slightly dimming down in favor of his curiosity. “Yes, yes it’s a modern thing”, you were growing needy and he snapped out of it when you opened your legs further, your pussy opening up for him and he growled.

He didn’t waste a second, his lips on you before you could even be self conscious about him seeing you like this for the first time. His tongue was cold like the rest of his body, and the feeling of the icy wet muscle sliding against your most sensitive part was making you moan loudly, you were glad there weren’t any neighbors. Your reaction had him gripping your thighs and pulling you even closer to his mouth, not having the need to breathe made him feel like he could just stay between your legs forever.

He was circling your clit with his tongue, the familiar warmth building inside your belly, but never before had it felt this good and this intense - not when you had done it yourself and especially not when previous boyfriends had touched you clumsily. He started sucking on your clit making you twitch slightly and when he took one hand of your thigh and pushed his cold digits into your slick and hot pussy you were a whimpering and moaning mess.

His hand on your thigh was gripping so tightly that you were sure there was going to be a handprint tomorrow, but you didn’t dare complain, he would most certainly stop if you did. His fingers thrusted inside of you relentlessly, curling every now and then and hitting that one spongey spot inside of you and the coil inside of you was on the verge of snapping.

“F-Felix I’m going to-“, you stuttered between harsh breaths and moans and when he growled against you and when you looked down to see that tall and strong man between your legs, his eyes looking up at you completely blacked out, you were pushed over the edge, a sharp cry leaving your mouth and you were clenching around him, your release drenching his fingers.

He was helping you through your high, completely feral and focused on your taste on his tongue, surprisingly the thirst wasn’t bothering him at all, but it was getting harder and harder to rule in his strength. When you were twitching around his fingers, your tight pussy still squeezing him, you whined from the overstimulation and pushed at his head, making him finally pull his fingers out and sit back on his knees.

The sight of his muscles moving underneath his porcelain skin while he was licking his fingers clean, got you all worked up again. What did you do right to have this perfect man about to fuck you. “Please babe, need you”, you were still panting slightly, but some primal instinct was begging to be filled by him and you couldn’t wait anymore.

His eyes widened at your words, his underwear gone in half a second and your eyes were widening slightly at his cock. He was caging you in with his arms and the veiny long dick was rubbing his precum on your lower stomach, it was cold too and the feeling was weirdly erotic. You anticipated him being big, but now that you saw him you were a little worried about it fitting.

Your hands reached out to touch him, but you heard fabric tearing were his hand was gripping the pillow tightly and his other hand shot out to stop yours. He took a deep breath, his eyes almost black now. “If you touch me now, I won’t be able to be gentle mia cara”, his jaw was flexing and he realeased the tight grip he had on your wrist, surely that would be another bruise. Somehow the idea of his marks all over your body made you clench around nothing.

You just nodded in response to his previous statement and instead cupped his cheek gently, pulling him down to kiss him slowly, hoping to calm him down a little. Felix appreciated the kiss, he knew he needed to take a moment before attempting to fuck you, his instincts were on the verge of taking over, the need to fill up his mate nearly forcing him to mount you right away.

When you needed to breathe he pulled back, his eyes softer now, and he pressed his forehead to yours. “You ready?”, he kissed your nose and you had to smile, your hands gripping his large biceps and holding on. “Yeah”, you confirmed and then you felt the head of his cock slipping between your folds, one of his hands gripping your thigh and pulling it up around his waist, the other leg following automatically.

When his dick caught your still sensitive clit your breath hitched, but the he slipped the head inside of you, and his coldness almost immediately soothes the slight sting his size caused in your virgin pussy. That was convenient, you thought in the back of your mind. Both your and his eyes were screwed shut, just taking in the feeling of him slipping deeper inside of you, splitting you open. When his heavy balls finally rested against your ass and he bottomed out, you realeased a breath you didn’t know you were holding. God, this felt so so good.

Felix on the other hand felt like he was going insane, your pussy was so hot around him, sucking him in and squeezing him like a vice. He gripped the headboard, but his hand went right through and it landed on the stone wall behind the bed instead, wood and a bit of stone tumbling to the floor. You gasped, your eyes opening and taking in the vampire on top and inside of you.

You pulled his head down into your neck, and held it there, stroking his hair softly to ground him. “Sorry”, he mumbled against your jaw, his lips brushing against it, making you clench around him. He groaned and you winced. “Sorry”, you repeated him, the irony not lost on both of you and you chuckled.

He braced himself on top of you again after a few more moments, basically mounting you more securely, and you laced your hands behind his neck. His first thrust was tentatively, but your breathless whimper seemed to encourage him, and so he picked up his pace, thrusting into you fast (for your standards - slow for his).

Felix couldn’t believe he went without this perfect pussy for over two millennia, he couldn’t even imagine living without you again, the thought alone making his hips snap harder into you, a gasp leaving your mouth when he brushed your cervix. “Fuck, you’re mine, aren’t you love?”, he growled above you and you nodded desperately. “Say it!”, he barked, lost in his pleasure, and you whimpered quietly.

“I’m yours, I’m yours!”, you sobbed, he adjusted his position and your eyes almost rolled back when he slipped even deeper inside of you, his head catching onto that one spot with every thrust. And damn his thrusts were fast, you were so going to be limping tomorrow.

He was losing it, he could feel you approach your high and he was close to, his control slipping with every thrust. He grabbed onto the post of the bed to ground himself in the moment, but he couldn’t rule in his strength in that movement and the wood splintered, the pole tumbling down to the floor with a loud crash but he didn’t even acknowledge it, his hand just gripping the mattress instead that immediately ripped.

You were too lost in your pleasure to really realize the bed slowly falling to your mates mercy, his body shielding your from any debris. You were so close, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust, drenched in a mix of your slick and his precum. Felix sensed you needed a little push to cum, and his hand snuck between you, circling your clit roughly, his cock relentlessly abusing your cunt. “Cum for me amore mio, cum for your mate”, he growled, a desperate moan leaving your mouth and after few more thrusts you reached your high, clenching around him and cumming with a sob.

The feeling of you convulsing around him so violently, sucking him in desperately made him snap too, a few more harsh thrusts and he buried himself as deep as you would take him, his balls tightening and his cum spilling deep inside of you. Neither of you noticed the bed giving in underneath you from his harsh thrusts, the mattresses right corner now on the floor.

You were still riding out your high and his cold seed flooding your pussy prolonged it significantly. You were surprised he could spill into you at all, but it felt too good to be claimed by this strong man to question anything.

When you two finally stilled, you were panting and your face felt incredibly flushed, but the vampire on top of you buried his face in your neck and was still. He obviously wasn’t out of breath. Your breath evened out after a minute and your hands started stroking his hair softly, making him basically purr. “Did I hurt you?”, he mumbled and you rolled your eyes with a smile. “No, No you didn’t”, you said with a satisfied smile on your lips.

“I love you”, his deep voice against your neck made you clench around him once more, another groan leaving his lips at that. “I love you”, you whispered and sighed contently.

————————

You had fallen asleep almost instantly from the exhaustion, only barely noticing Felix pulling out and cleaning you up. The fireplace had already been burning low then, so neither of you saw the extent of the bruises that started to cover your body. But damn we’re you glad Felix seemed to be outside when you woke up, because when you sat up, the sheet falling off of you, there were fingertipshaped bruises on your arms. And you knew if he had seen them, he would have felt so guilty and probably horrified he ‘hurt’ you.

So you rushed into the bathroom (and almost fell because of your wobbly legs) with the sheet wrapped around you and new clothes in hand before he could see anything. You took a shower before throwing on your clothes, the cardigan covering your arms and your pants covering the bruises on your legs and waist. This should work, at least if he didn’t want to fuck you again, then you’d have to turn of the light and pray his enhanced sight didn’t pick it up.

You two had been spending your day in the snow outside and curled up infront of the fireplace, but it was getting late and as you were yawning for the tenth time already, Felix chuckled and picked you up. “Let’s get you to bed”, he smirked and you didn’t complain, you were half asleep in his arms, an agreeing hum leaving your lips.

The bedroom was dark and he sat you down on the edge of the now fixed up bed, speeding to the dresser and back and handing you your pajamas. Your brain was running on low energy, so you’d blame what happened next on that. You stood up yawning, pulling your cardigan and shirt off, and your pants and socks came off next. You were about to unclasp your bra to put the pajama top on, when you felt the atmosphere shift so violently that you were shaken out of your half sleep.

When your eyes were fully open, they immediately zoned in on the bruises on your skin and then snapped up to the terrified look on your mates face. Shit, if you could see them, he could see them even clearer. “Felix”, you reached out for him, trying to comfort him but he pulled back quickly, his body rigid and frozen.

“I am so sorry (Y/N)”, he whispered and you almost didn’t hear him, but the heartbroken look on his face made you panic. This was bad. “Don’t be, please its not that bad!”, you tried to diffuse the situation, but he scoffed angrily. “Not that bad? Not that bad! There are bruises all over your body, god I should’ve never even tried to-“, he was rambling furiously and his muscles were flexing underneath his shirt.

“Felix please”, you tried again, quickly pulling your pajamas on before stepping towards him. “-even attempted this, I knew I’m too strong, I can’t believe I hurt you I-“, he didn’t even listen to you and you decided to take more drastic measures. “FELIX!”, you shouted, your loud voice breaking through his guilt and anger and he shut up immediately. Never before had you raised your voice in his presence, you were always the calm and gentle center in his world.

“Sit”, you basically ordered and sat down on the mattress yourself. You were kind of surprised that the giant and agitated vampire actually did what you told him to, but you guessed it was the shock. He sat next to you, careful to keep some distance between you two. You had none of that, taking his cold hands into yours and scooting closer, a serious look on your face.

“I want you to listen to me carefully okay?”, you were talking softly, trying to catch his eyes but he was looking at your hands instead, so you sighed quietly. “Felix, these are only a few bruises, even sex between humans results in bruises if they’re rough. You trust me don’t you?”, you asked, and finally he met your eyes, his red ones still full of guilt, but at least he had calmed down. “Of course”, he answered right away, making you smile hopefully.

“Then trust me to tell you if you hurt me”, you told him, “because you didn’t hurt me yesterday. Okay? You didn’t, everything was perfect.” He took an unnecessary deep breath, and nodded, making a smile light up your face. Crisis averted. “Also”, you giggled a little and his eyebrow quirked up in curiosity, you scooched closer to him and whispered, “I think it’s kind of hot to have your marks all over me.”

Felix couldn’t help but let out a shocked laugh, his little innocent mate having such dirty and possessive thoughts made him feel better about the situation immediately. “Let’s get you to bed mia cara”, he smirked and pulled you into his arms.

—————————

Hope you liked this filth, leave some love for my underrated boy!! I appreciate all your sweet comments so so much! <3

[hitomisuzuya]

I MADE IT TO THE OPEN ASKBOX HII HITOMIIIIII :3

threesome w childe & delusion childe?? i'm crazy over this concept

Childe x fem!reader. Delusion Childe x fem!reader. Smut. Threesome. Blowjob. Multiple cream pies.

Ngl, I am on my knees for Childe like I am for Scara. I got super high and this came out.

Delusion Childe looked down at you with hungry eyes through his mask. He stroked a hand through your hair, his eyes feasting on the sight of your soft, wet tongue curling and lapping around the head of his cock.

He let out a shaky groan, his hand grasping your hair as you started to suck on the tip. His hips jerked forward, pushing his cock all the way into your mouth.

You gagged, surprised when his cock suddenly hit the back of your throat. "Aw, what's wrong?" He cooed, keeping your mouth on his cock as you struggled to adjust your breathing. "For all that bluster about being able to take both of us at once, the fight in you sure died fast," His taunts made you vibrate a moan on his cock, making it pulse in your mouth.

Childe was positioning himself behind you, licking his lips as he watched you choke on Delusion Childe's cock. "This good girl always knows when to submit," He smacked a hand across your ass.

The sting of his hand on your ass made your walls clench around nothing, your sucks on Delusion Childe's cock turning more eager. Childe's fingers played with your clit for a few moments before taking both your wrists into one of his hands.

Holding your wrists behind your back, Childe thrust his cock into drooling cunt all at once, something akeen to a whimper sounding from him. You mewled happily on Delusion Childe's cock as he bottomed out, the head of his cock kissing into your sweet spot.

Childe thrust into you with reckless abandon, his hands squeezing tight around your wrists. Delusion Childe kept his hands on your head, guiding your mouth up and down on his cock.

Delusion Childe grunted and growled as he fucked himself into your throat. You flattened your tongue along the vein in his cock, tears stinging in your eyes as drool pooled from the corners of your mouth.

Your orgasm was threatening to overwhelm your body from Childe's relentless pace. His fingers occasionally dipped down to play with and pinch your clit, his husky moans of pleasure mingling with your muffled cries of bliss.

Delusion Childe's cum roped into your mouth as Childe's cock ribboned cum inside of you. Childe feverishly fucking his cum back inside of you as it seeped out made you cum squirting on his cock.

Delusion Childe's cock remained hard in your mouth as you swallowed his cum. You drug air into your mouth as he pulled his cock from your mouth. Childe's fingers scooped some left over back inside of you, delivering a pleased smack to your ass as he pulled out.

Childe let you recover for a moment before he lifted and lowered you onto Delusion Childe's cock. Even with the ample lubrication of cum, your hole struggled to fit Delusion Childe's cock. "That's a good girl, take all of my cock," He growled, feeling your sensitive walls tighten with every inch. Childe took his hands off your hips so Delusion Childe could finish stuffing his cock inside of you all the way.

"So..so big," You cried out, your legs shaking as Delusion Childe started to bounce you on his cock. Having not come down from your first orgasm, pleasure rocketed through your body again.

Childe gave your clit a wet smack, nearly making you cum again as you struggled not to sob from pleasure. He took one of your hands and put it around his cock.

Your second orgasm was building up so tight you could barely even think. Childe chuckled, and wrapped your hand around his cock. "She's so fucked out you might have to tell the slut what to do," Delusion Childe taunted, cursing as you suddenly creamed on his cock.

Childe admired the pussy was stretched on Delusion Childe's cock, his cock hardening again as you stroked and rubbed his cock. "Fuck, you look so cute stretched out like that, I may have fuck you full again," He caressed your cheek.

Delusion Childe held you down on his cock, your back arching in bliss as his warm cum painted your walls further white. He growled with approval watching his cum dribble from your cunt.

[tiddygame]

i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

[inkbitten]

DUNGEON MESHI WITH A DERE——TYPE READER. LAIOS.

( sorry for not doing asks! i keep getting the same character so i wanted to do something different for myself. u__u reader is a half orc because i like the concept! dungeon meshi has phones because i say so. )

LAIOS WITH A TSUNDERE.

laios doesn't.. entirely know what to make of you. that's not to say he doesn't like you! but, he struggles to find out what's going on in his teammates heads alone, and yours is the most difficult of all to figure out. still, when you're both at the bar, he approaches you without fail.

he is very intrigued by your species. half elf, half orc?! it seems about every time he sees you in the bar, he's throwing a barrage of questions at you. is your mother the elf? the orc? what was it like growing up?!

you aren't entirely used to being approached by others. to most, your very existence is viewed as bizarre. because of this, you're pretty much an outcast on the island you were born on. you're used to being alone by now, and aren't exactly.. ready to let anyone in.

“ ..are you an idiot? ” you mutter one day, slightly pointed ears turned pink.

“ eh.. eh?! “ laios's eyes widen, taken aback by your sudden utterance. did he say something wrong? all he remembers is factually mentioning that being half elf gives you a very unique beauty.

“ i'm.. sorry? haha.. ” a sheepish laughs leaves the blond's lips. “ did i—— offend you? or..? ”

“ wow. i was right. you really are an idiot. ” huffing through nostrils, your head turns from him. “ s.. some people would've thought you were flirting!" ”

laios immediately feels the way his earlobes turn red, warmth swiftly crawling up from the back of his neck. “ i'm sorry! ” he chokes out, animatedly waving his hands around.

“ tch! why are you saying sorry? ”

you stand there with your hands on your hips, and laios is no longer aware of what's making you upset. his brows furrow, lips pursed into an adorably confused expression. his cuteness totally pisses you off!

“ did you mean it? ”

“ uh, what? “

“ did you mean it?! ”

laios awkwardly scratches his cheek. “ i.. i mean, yes? i especially like the way your eyes look in the sunligh———.. ”

you're quick to get him off with an, “ i get it! ”

laios is.. confused. again. did you not want him to elaborate? before he can inquire, you're seizing his arm and rolling up his sleeve to write down your number with a pen you swiped from the bar counter.

“ call me, or else! ” is all you say before paying your tab and rushing out.

left behind, laios's level of confusion skyrockets. he feels the skin you touched tingle with the warmth of your fingers. he looks down at your number with the strange desire to never clean his limb again.

“ ..that's weird, “ he mutters, laughing at himself.

he might as well get on home to send you a call. is it too early? he just got it.. ugh. he should ask falin for advice.

[thevoidscreams]

Room for Growth Chapter: 2

Warnings: suggestive themes, mentions of pregnancy.

Lorgar roused earlier than you did. He was an early riser and his body as advanced as it was didn't require as much rest.

But he never left the bed until you were awake. He'd stay in your arms as long as possible. Pressed into your warm body by the firm grasp of your arms. He loved you. So deeply, so ardently, with all he had to give, he loved you.

His home and someday, he prayed, his wife. He'd never known love like this. Not that he could remember. His hearts raced at the idea that he might actually be tall enough soon to bed you properly. He'd been shocked that you'd noticed his growth. He'd noticed as soon as it had started. He was eager to see it persist.

His hands stroked your sides and hips, breathing in the calming scent of your sleep. Soon, he'd have one of his sons. And your unit would feel like a true family.

He shook his head. Not just his son. Your son as well. You would be the mother of his legion, and his sons would just adore you so. He knew it in the core of his being.

"I love you." Lorgar mumbled into your chest, the feeling of speaking his first tongue pleased him. He would have to teach you Colchisian. Then you two could be properly wed, and he could give you a child for him and you to love.

Not that you wouldn't love his gene sons. He was certain you'd love them all just as he loved them.

He felt your body begin to shift as your body came back to the waking world. He closed his eyes to enjoy the last few moments of peace before the day began.

"Lorgar~," you mumbled, and he opened his eyes as if he too had just awakened.

"Yes?" He asked.

"We gotta get up. I have a surprise for you today."

"What sort?"

"You'll see."

Reluctantly, the primarch let you go so you could rise and get ready for the day. His eyes tracked you as you went to the bathroom and he almost followed but stopped himself as the door shut behind you.

Soon, he was sure there would be no need for you to close the door behind yourself.

He trudged to the door and took one last deep breath of the concentrated scent of you in the room and then ducked out to properly dress himself for a day out. He wondered just what you had in mind.

I ran the brush over my teeth and spit out the frothy paste into the sink.

I was so excited to spend time with the only individual I knew personally who had a primarch. It had been a few months since I'd seen Shelby and Magnus.

Magnus was an interesting one, for sure. I understood that he had some kind of special power that he could utilize. But the way he'd explained it only left me more confused.

He was a good sport about it, though, not upset with me for struggling with his strange concepts. His human, a woman named Shelby who had taken him into her home had reached out to me on social media soon after I had welcomed Lorgar into my home. We met for coffee and after floating the idea by our respective primarchs found out that they got along well and that had led to the first of many meet ups. As many as we reasonably could. With Laws being what they were, the astartes and even primarchs were restricted to similar laws as children for a long time and legislation was just now beginning to change.

I hurried to get dressed and came out to find that Lorgar had already made a small breakfast for us both. "I hope it is adequate. We are out of bacon now." He smiled and plated the food. It smelled amazing. "It's perfect Gar, thank you." We ate and my primarch looked up at me with a strange expression before he dug into his own food. I felt that familiar warmth and squashed it down as best as I could.

The drive wasn't long, about half an hour in usual traffic. Lorgar picked up where half way through the journey and was practically glowing.

The car had barely been put into park before he was bounding out to greet his red haired brother. "Magnus!" "Lorgar!" They embraced fondly as they did every time. I got out much more composes and was shocked to see Shelby. "Oh my goodness! Are you!?" Shelby's smile brightened as she nodded. "Yep, pregnant." She hugged me gently. "Who? I mean, I thought you said you weren't seeing anyone." Shelby waved away the question and shrugged. "Things happen."

I took that as my sign to leave it be. We went into her home and I felt a similar pang of envy that I did every time. It was so nice, so big too.

"So what's new? We haven't talked in a while." Shelby gushed as I sat in her fancy sitting room and smiled. "I got a pretty significant raise cause I got the position I went it for." I explained and Shelby ooh'd and shared in my delight with me. "Also I'm looking at some places and I've put out to my social worker to see if any of Lorgar's sons are looking for placement."

It went back and forth that way for a while, just small talk and catching up.

Lorgar followed Magnus up to his own floor and grinned like a fool. "I see you have made good on your word brother." The word bearer spoke, his voice jovial and teasing. Magnus joined his smile with one of his own. "I will not bore you with the details but rest assured she and I have been thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Lorgar sighed, "Please don't hold your tongue on my account, do tell. I know how much you enjoy a good story." The brothers laughed and Magnus clapped his hands on Lorgar's shoulders.

"I can not wait for you to enjoy what I have brother, my abilities have made it easier for me, but soon I promise all of us, even our sons will be able to enjoy the fruits of Terra unbound by these ridiculous restraints. Lorgar nodded. "You are making good progress then, the humans are noticing." "Many are nervous." Magnus agreed, "But many more seem to thrill at the idea. And our father." Lorgar's head whipped up to stare down his brother. "You have reached him? Spoken to him?" "On the tides of the great ocean, yes. He is working under a guise to help push forward legislation for us. To improve our lives. Soon Lorgar, soon! We will not only have all the rights as the common man but when we are whole again, we will even have all the freedoms we desire. I will take my mortal woman, my Shelby as my wife, and you my brother, can have yours."

Lorgar breathed out a shaky breath, it was like a dream come true, to think he could marry the one he loved so dearly.

"She is going to bring one of my sons into our home, I can feel it in her. The desire, I know that soon she will have me as Shelby has had you." Magnus sat with his brother and nodded. "I have been looking into the tides to see the potential futures. It would seem most certain that she will. Give it some time brother."

Lorgar felt a tightness in his chest. "Every minutes feels a thousand lifetimes already."

His brother nodded. "I understand, but enjoy the time that you have her for."

The implications made Lorgar feel sick, of course he would out live her, but he did not wish to think of such things. So he changed the subject. "Have you thought of names?"

Magnus grinned and began his long explanation of each name he and his child's mother had chosen.

It was getting late into the afternoon by the time we had to go. I felt a certain kind of guilt as the brothers parted and we made our ways back home. "Did you enjoy your time with Magnus?" I asked wondering where the two had been all day. "Of course, I am always delighted to spend time with my beloved brother." "I'm glad to hear it. You want to help me make dinner when I get home?"

A domestic task he could share with you, even though he had enjoyed his time with his brother he still longed to spend the time with you as well. "Yes, I would enjoy that." His mind drifted as you drove and he imagined the future, where you were just as full of his children as Shelby was with Magnus's and it made his smiled only grow. He did so love you, and soon, he was certain you would know that.